Friendship

Yes I find that too.

Thanks for the laugh, guy and lady.

So if you’ll excuse me now. I’m having a conversation with myself, but I don’t feel any smarter for it.

Later, JC

Yes I find that too.

LOA;

Good Un, Ya got me. I quit My Lady.


Camac

PS:
Do you find when talking to yourself, that you don’t learn anything, that you didn’t already know?

Yes I find that too.

LOA;

Good Un, Ya got me. I quit My Lady.


Camac

Thanks for the laugh, guy and lady.

So if you’ll excuse me now. I’m having a conversation with myself, but I don’t feel any smarter for it.

Later, JC

You guys just crack me up...I needed a good laugh and you guys just gave me my first one of the day...Thanks

LOA

JC.

I did find out that it is OK to talk to yourself, just don't answer. Thats' when the nets come out.


Camac.

This is not so silly as you think. Lots of people talk to themselves, and the exercise of getting it out into words often does clarify things. It's not nutty either -- it works especially well for people whose attentional problems they might have had in childhood carry forward into adulthood. It does help collect and stabilize a train of thought, and you really can uncover something you didn't know you knew.

I'll confess that I have a fairly concrete "other self" who is a younger version of me, a child actually (no, she doesn't go into Walmart and come out with three hundred dollars worth of candy while I have amnesia ) and we decide on things all the time. I have to say we get along very well. I think of it as a coping behavior -- a way of thinking that is a child's point of view, and that prevents me from taking myself or the world too seriously.

Neither one of us can stand Ralph Nader, btw.

Camac -- I love Kipling. That long poem at the very end of the second Jungle Book, when Mowgli leaves his three great animal friends and goes to live among his own kind, has me in tears any time I read it. Each of them gives advice and a blessing; then Baloo, Bagheera and Kaa all sing together:

On the trail that thou must tread
To the thresholds of our dread,
Where the Flower blossoms red;
Through the nights when thou shalt lie
Prisoned from our Mother-sky,
Hearing us, thy loves, go by;
In the dawns when thou shalt wake
To the toil thou canst not break,
Heartsick for the Jungle's sake:
Wood and Water, Wind and Tree,
Wisdom, Strength, and Courtesy,
Jungle-Favour go with thee!

This is not so silly as you think. Lots of people talk to themselves, and the exercise of getting it out into words often does clarify things. It's not nutty either -- it works especially well for people whose attentional problems they might have had in childhood carry forward into adulthood. It does help collect and stabilize a train of thought, and you really can uncover something you didn't know you knew.

I'll confess that I have a fairly concrete "other self" who is a younger version of me, a child actually (no, she doesn't go into Walmart and come out with three hundred dollars worth of candy while I have amnesia ) and we decide on things all the time. I have to say we get along very well. I think of it as a coping behavior -- a way of thinking that is a child's point of view, and that prevents me from taking myself or the world too seriously.

Neither one of us can stand Ralph Nader, btw.

Camac -- I love Kipling. That long poem at the very end of the second Jungle Book, when Mowgli leaves his three great animal friends and goes to live among his own kind, has me in tears any time I read it. Each of them gives advice and a blessing; then Baloo, Bagheera and Kaa all sing together:

On the trail that thou must tread
To the thresholds of our dread,
Where the Flower blossoms red;
Through the nights when thou shalt lie
Prisoned from our Mother-sky,
Hearing us, thy loves, go by;
In the dawns when thou shalt wake
To the toil thou canst not break,
Heartsick for the Jungle's sake:
Wood and Water, Wind and Tree,
Wisdom, Strength, and Courtesy,
Jungle-Favour go with thee!

When compared to any Bush, i'd come out of the "closet" for Ralph Nader. (That is if I were in the closet, it's too crowded in there.)

And the poem is grand.

JC

Stoirmeil;

I know next to nothing about American Scouting but here in Canada we adopted the British system started by Lord Baden-Powell. He based alot of the cub programme on the Jungle Book. The Cub Master was called Akaila, and his assistants were Baloo, and Bagheera. We had to know the story of Mowgli and his friends in the Jungle and follow the Law.
Why Kipling was never made Poet Laureat of Britain I will never understand. I guess not fancy enough. His poems of life in the British Army must have upset alot of sensibilities in there day.


Camac.

"For the strength of the pack is the wolf
and the strength of the wolf is the pack."

Yes -- the military stuff with the tricky dialects is kind of "common", and that's really the point of it. But some of the other poetry is beautiful and formally very sophisticated. Another one that I love is Darzee the Tailorbird's song at the end of Rikki-Tikki-Tavi: you can hear the bird's exultation that the cobra is dead, and the rhythm of the long lines is actually "woven" in and out with long and short phrases. Masterful technique.

Darzee's Chant

(Sung in honor of Rikki-tikki-tavi)

Singer and tailor am I--
Doubled the joys that I know--
Proud of my lilt to the sky,
Proud of the house that I sew--
Over and under, so weave I my music--so weave I the house that I
sew.

Sing to your fledglings again,
Mother, oh lift up your head!
Evil that plagued us is slain,
Death in the garden lies dead.
Terror that hid in the roses is impotent--flung on the dung-hill
and dead!

Who has delivered us, who?
Tell me his nest and his name.
Rikki, the valiant, the true,
Tikki, with eyeballs of flame,
Rikk-tikki-tikki, the ivory-fanged, the hunter with eyeballs of
flame!

Give him the Thanks of the Birds,
Bowing with tail feathers spread!
Praise him with nightingale words--
Nay, I will praise him instead.
Hear! I will sing you the praise of the bottle-tailed Rikki, with
eyeballs of red!

Stoirmeil;
I must thank you deeply. You have reawaken a long dormant love of Kipling. I had almost completely forgotten how much I enjoyed him. My Dad use to recite him all the time when I was growing up.

Camac.

Stoirmeil,
These are beautiful poems.

Camac we have another poem lover here with us.

Thanks for sharing Stoirmeil and BTW I love the Rikki-tikki one.


LOA