The mental disease of the century is narcissistic sociopathy manifested in having no empathy. I wanted solitude for no one's more hated than he who speaks the truth. Our self-image is trashed early, determining all that we attract later to confirm that bad identity. The smarter one is the more messed up they get when wires are crossed, hearts broken, rejected. Cross a narcissist and it's their entire goal to hurt you as much as they can so don't get involved man. Cover design by Karen Kellock, inside art by Fox Design and Blaze Goldburst
"In this science fiction thriller, brothers are pitted against each other as a pandemic threatens to destabilize world governments by exerting a subtle mind control over survivors"--
Of Mice and Men es una novela escrita por el autor John Steinbeck. Publicado en 1937, cuenta la historia de George Milton y Lennie Small, dos trabajadores desplazados del rancho migratorio, que se mudan de un lugar a otro en California en busca de nuevas oportunidades de trabajo durante la Gran Depresión en los Estados Unidos.
A new theory in psychology with a formula: all disease obstruction, all recovery elimination, all success attraction. The three obstructions are explained in detail: people, habit and food. What messed us up? The influence of other people. With trauma we swallow them whole/mimic evil. What is the Dunning-Kruger? It's the dumb thinking they're smart--most dangerous for sure. We mal-adapt by taking on another part but through elimination we get a fresh start. Cover design by Blaze Goldburst
T'AI-CHI CHUAN is a Chinese martial art based on consciously aligning with the unforced balance of Yin and Yang energies that underlies all things. Whether or not you are interested in martial arts, T'ai-Chi principles of balance can be applied to any life activity to increase performance, efficiency, health and enjoyment. T'AI-CHI FOR GENIUSES is a practice companion, not an instructional training manual. Rather than presuming that the reader is a "dummy" or "complete idiot," author Gene Burnett asserts that there is an inner "genius" within everyone. This genius is a wellspring of intuitive knowledge vastly more intelligent than our conscious minds. Burnett encourages the reader to listen to this inner genius while he breaks down the often confusing and mysterious T'ai-Chi training into four levels of work: Bone, Muscle, Energy and Spirit. Applying these levels of work to solo form training, partner work, weapons training, and daily life, Burnett shows how you can improve the quality and clarity of your practice, eventually becoming your own teacher and student.
If that was a fair judgment, what are we to say to the modern work, which includes thousands of names too obscure for mention in its predecessor? When Mr. Lee speaks of the 'commemorative instinct' as justifying his undertaking, the enemy replies that a very small minority of the names deserve commemoration. To appeal to instinct is to repudiate reason and to justify monomania. Admitting, as we all admit, the importance of keeping alive the leading names in history, what is the use of this long procession of the hopelessly insignificant? Why repeat the familiar formula about the man who was born on such a day, was 'educated at the grammar school of his native town,' graduated in such a year, became fellow of his college, took a living, married, published a volume of sermons which nobody has read for a century or two, and has been during all that time in his churchyard? Can he not be left in peace, side by side with the 'rude forefathers of the hamlet,' who are content to lie beneath their quiet mounds of grass? Is it not almost a mockery to persist in keeping up some faint and flickering image of him aboveground? There is often some good reading to be found in country churchyards; but, on the whole, if one had to choose, one would perhaps rather have the good old timber crosspiece, with 'afflictions sore long time he bore,' than the ambitious monuments where History and its attendant cherubs are eternally poring over the list of the squire's virtues and honours. Why struggle against the inevitable? Better oblivion than a permanent admission that you were thoroughly and hopelessly commonplace. I confess that I sometimes thought as much when I was toiling on my old treadmill, now Mr. Lee's. Much of the work to be done was uninteresting, if not absolutely repulsive. I was often inclined to sympathise with the worthy Simon Browne, a Nonconformist divine of the last century. Poor Browne had received a terrible shock. Some accounts say that he had lost his wife and only son; others that he had 'accidentally strangled a highwayman,'—not, one would think, so painful a catastrophe. Anyhow, his mind became affected; he fancied that his 'spiritual substance' had been annihilated; he was a mere empty shell, a body without a soul; and, under these circumstances, as he tells us, he took to an employment which did not require a soul: he became a dictionary-maker. Still, we should, as he piously adds, 'thank God for everything, and therefore for dictionary-makers.' Though Browne's dictionary was not of the biographical kind, the remark seemed to be painfully applicable. Browne was only giving in other words the pith of Carlyle's constant lamentations when struggling amidst the vast dust-heaps accumulated by Dryasdust and his fellows. Could any good come of these painful toilings among the historical 'kitchen middens'? If here and there you disinter some precious coin, does the rare success repay the endless sifting of the gigantic mounds of shot rubbish? And yet, by degrees, I came to think that there was really a justification for toils not of the most attractive kind.
The largest social movement by people of Mexican descent in the U.S. to date, the Chicano Movement of the 1960s and 70s linked civil rights activism with a new, assertive ethnic identity: Chicano Power! Beginning with the farmworkers' struggle led by César Chávez and Dolores Huerta, the Movement expanded to urban areas throughout the Southwest, Midwest and Pacific Northwest, as a generation of self-proclaimed Chicanos fought to empower their communities. Recently, a new generation of historians has produced an explosion of interesting work on the Movement. The Chicano Movement: Perspectives from the Twenty-First Century collects the various strands of this research into one readable collection, exploring the contours of the Movement while disputing the idea of it being one monolithic group. Bringing the story up through the 1980s, The Chicano Movement introduces students to the impact of the Movement, and enables them to expand their understanding of what it means to be an activist, a Chicano, and an American.
