dlokalist - Tumblr blog

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(via ⚡'HASAN POLATKAN ANADOLU LİSESİ ‘ŞİDDET VE OKUL’ KONULU SEMİNER PROGRAMI.' sunumu)1/3

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This video exposes myths everyone (even you!) believes about Texting and Driving. Watch it to learn the truth! Thank you Sharbel Nahed for sharing

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İzmir Gourmet Guide Lezzet Senfonisi / The Sounds of Turkish Food

Published on Sep 28, 2013 Mandal Ajans & İzmir Gourmet Guide Gururla Sunar. https://www.facebook.com/izmirgourmet... 

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Kalbi İzmir İçin Atanlara… İzmir Gourmet Guide Lezzet Senfonisi.

Published on Oct 1, 2014 -İzmir'in Tadına Varın…

www.facebook.com/izmirgourmetguide 

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Manisa da ki Moris Şinasi hastanesinin hikayesi

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RAKI İÇMEK İÇİN YÜZ SEBEP

1. Can bu, çeker. 2. Uzaklardan bir dost gelir. 3. Mesai uzar. 4. Aşıksındır. 5. Rakısız memlekete gideceksindir. 6. Terfi etmişsindir. 7. Kerahet vakti gelmiştir. 8. Uğurlayacak birileri vardır. 9. Bünyenin “reset”lenmeye ihtiyacı vardır. 10. Günlerden pazartesidir. 11. Bir hayalin gerçek olmuştur. 12. Ortamda herkes rakı içmektedir. 13. O gün, doğum günündür. 14. Cemreler düşmüştür. 15. Abin gelmiştir. 16. Canın eve gitmek istemez. 17. Bira hamallıktır. 18. İçin kıpır kıpır, deniz kıpırtısızdır. 19. Yabancı arkadaşların gelmiştir. 20. Günlerden salıdır. 21. Akşam ne pişireceğini bilmemektesindir. 22. Evlenmişsindir. 23. Bir karar vermen gerekiyordur. 24. İstifa etmişsindir. 25. Rüyana çilingir sofrası girmiştir. 26. Birilerinin doğum günüdür. 27. İşe girişinin yıl dönümüdür. 28. Arkadaşların evlenmiştir. 29. Efkâr basar, bazen. 30. Günlerden çarşambadır. 31. Kar yağar, beyaz çağrışım yapar. 32. Akşam yemeğini yakmışsındır. 33. Arkadaşların arar, çağırır. 34. Terk edilmişsindir. 35. Sevdiğin birinin ölüm yıl dönümüdür. 36. Diş ağrısı tutmuştur. 37. Çarşıda gezerken birden gözüne balıklar ilişiverir. 38. Nostaljik hissetmektesindir. 39. Aileye bir bebek katılmıştır. 40. Günlerden perşembedir. 41. Sevdiğin kız sana abi demiştir. 42. Kovulmuşsundur. 43. Kamyonlar rakı taşır, sen hep onu düşünürsün. 44. Rakısız memleketten dönmüşsündür. 45. Evde dünden kalan zeytinyağlılar vardır. 46. Tuttuğun takım süper goller atmıştır. 47. İlham perilerini çağırmanın zamanı gelmiştir. 48. Karpuz kabuğu denize düşmüştür. 49. Patronundan papara yemişsindir. 50. Günlerden cumadır. 51. Liseden arkadaşlarla toplanacaksınızdır. 52. Evde elektrikler kesilmiştir. Rakı soğuk içilir. 53. İş yetiştirmen gerekiyordur. 54. Boğaz'a bakmaktasındır. 55. BüyükKeyif.com'a girmişsindir. 56. Dünyanın çivisi çıkmıştır. 57. Proje yetişmiyordur. 58. Henüz denemediğin bir sürü rakı vardır. 59. Yeni yıl gelmiştir. 60. Günlerden cumartesidir. 61. Piyangodan para çıkmıştır. 62. Dünya Rakı Haftası'dır. 63. Maaşlar yatmıştır. 64. Ağaçlar çiçeğe durmuştur. 65. Tuttuğun takım ligden elenmiştir. 66. Rüyana Dario Moreno girmiştir. 67. Muhsin Bey'i izlemişsindir. 68. Gökte dolunay vardır. 69. Felekten bir gece çalmak ister gönül. 70. Günlerden pazardır. 71. Biri sana ehlikeyif hediye etmiştir. 72. Neyzen okumaktasındır. 73. Barbunya pilaki yapmışsındır. 74. Çayıra çimene gidiliyordur. 75. Mısır'daki akrabalarından miras kalmıştır. 76. Dolapta öylece sana bakan bir şişe vardır. 77. İnceden bir yağmur yağmaktadır. 78. Ege'desindir. 79. Selvi Boylum Al Yazmalım'ı izlemektesindir. 80. Az zamanda çok işler başarmak istemektesindir. 81. Damar şarkılar çalıyordur. 82. Akdeniz'desindir, başın döner. 83. Mesleğin barmenliktir. 84. Baldan tatlı bir muhabbet edesin vardır. 85. Birileri canını sıkmıştır. Rahatlaman lazımdır. 86. Bahar gelmiş, erik çıkmıştır. 87. Gökyüzünde yalnız gezen yıldızlara karışmak istiyorsundur. 88. Varoluşsal problemler yaşamaktasındır. 89. Feleğin tekerine çomak sokasın vardır. 90. Sabahtan beri “Yine mi Çiçek” şarkısını mırıldanıyorsundur. 91. Her şey yolundadır. 92. Doktor “her akşam bir tek at” der. 93. Rakım 1500'dür. 94. Ağız tadı nedir bilmektesindir. 95. Şaire özenmiş, şişede balık olmak istersin. 96. Ege kıyılarındasındır, çarpar. 97. Daha önce denemediğin bir meze vardır. 98. Arkadaşların arar, çağırır. 99. Yeni kadehler almışsındır.  100. RAKI İÇMEK İÇİN BAHANEYE İHTİYAÇ YOKTUR.

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Rakı, balık ve kadın

Herkes rakıyı erkekler içer zanneder. Oysa bence rakıyı en güzel kadınlar içer. Rakı kadındır, kadın da rakı. Birbirlerinin halinden, tadından anlarlar. Hiç konuşmadan anlaşırlar. Yalnızlık zor ve çekilmez geldiğinden ikisine de, yanlarında mutlaka balık ve peynir ararlar. Ufak tefek tatlardan ve hatta acılardan da haz aldıklarından, yanında mezesi olmadan duramazlar. Kadının içindeki beyazdır rakı. Buğudur, dumandır. Mesafedir. Hem şeffaftır, hem bulanık. Temkin ister. Alışmak için zaman ister, alıştın mı da dikkat ve özen ister. Kadın o yüzden pek güzel içer rakıyı. Kadınlığının içinde saklanan erkektir rakı. Güçtür. Meydan okumadır. Elinde rakıyı erkek gibi tuttun mu, gözdağı verdirendir. Dik durmaya zorlar adamı. Eşitliktir rakı. Doğu'nun içindeki Batı, Batı'nın içindeki Doğu'dur. Anadolu'dur. Anadolu kadar yaşlı, onun kadar çeşitli, renklidir. Politikadır, yenilen kazıktır, şikayettir, isyandır. Kalabalık sevdiğinden doğurgandır. Bir kişi başlarsın bazen içmeye, bakmışsın olmuş masada 10 kişi. Hiç bilmediğin nağmeleri öğretir rakı. Bildiklerini unutturur. Mucizedir. Türk sanat müziğidir. Durup dururken ağlatır, olmadık yerde kahkaha attırır. Kadın ruhludur rakı. Daldan dala her türlü duyguyu tek kadehte yaşatır. Kafayı buldun mu, bet sesindeki buğulu nağmedir rakı. Masadan kalkmadan, yıkılmadan, rezil olmadan darmaduman olmaktır. Kadın gibidir rakı diyorum ya, çünkü içmeyi bilmeni ister rakı. Kolay değildir. Dalgaya gelmez, hassastır. “Şerefe!” dedin mi, o sofrada anlatılan her şeyi sır gibi tutacağına dair “şeref sözü” verdiğin namustur rakı. Kandırılmak istemez. Yalandan haz etmez. Gerçekleri ortaya döker rakı. Hesaplaşmadır. Yüzleşmedir. Rahatlamadır. Rakı-balık masasında yoksa kadın, masadaki erkeğin dilindedir, havasında vardır. Rakı kadınsız olmaz. Haremlik selamlık durmaz. Bir tek önyargı rakıyı erkek içer zanneder. Rakıyı erkek gibi kadın da içer. Bu toprakların parçasıdır rakı. Dil, din, ırk, köken bakmaz, tanımaz, ayrımlarla uğraşmaz. Uhu'dur rakı; birleştirir. Sarı Zeybek'tir, Yeşil Efe'dir, eskiden kalma ama Yeni'dir rakı. Beyaz leblemizdir. Geçmişten bugüne, bugünden geleceğimize mirastır. Gelenektir. Yasak tanımaz. Özgürdür. Hicazdır, nihavenddir. “Makberdir”, “Bir ihtimal daha var o da ölmek mi dersin” diyerek hayata avaz avaz tutturandır. Deşarjdır, “İkinci bahar”ımızdır bizim. “Kalamış”tır. Bizimdir, bizdendir. Eskimiz, yenimiz, tarihimizdir. Yadigardır. Sözünü esirgemeyen kadın gibidir. Benim gibidir... Rakı.

[dlokalist]

The Nothing Box: This explains a lot that has puzzled men & women thru the centuries. Enjoy.

(thanks, Doreen, for passing it along)

[dlokalist]

EuroEnglish

The European Union commissioners have announced that agreement has been reached to adopt English as the preferred language for European communications, rather than German, which was the other possibility.

As part of the negotiations, Her Majesty’s Government conceded that English spelling had some room for improvement and has accepted a five-year phased plan for what will be known as EuroEnglish (Euro for short).

In the first year, ‘s' will be used instead of the soft 'c’. Sertainly, sivil servants will resieve this news with joy. Also, the hard ‘c' will be replaced with 'k.’ Not only will this klear up konfusion, but typewriters kan have one less letter.

There will be growing publik enthusiasm in the sekond year, when the troublesome ‘ph' will be replaced by 'f’. This will make words like ‘fotograf’ 20 per sent shorter.

In the third year, publik akseptanse of the new spelling kan be expekted to reach the stage where more komplikated changes are possible. Governments will enkourage the removal of double letters, which have always ben a deterent to akurate speling. Also, al wil agre that the horible mes of silent ‘e's in the languag is disgrasful, and they would go.

By the fourth year, peopl wil be reseptiv to steps such as replasing 'th' by 'z' and 'W' by 'V’.

During ze fifz year, ze unesesary ‘o' kan be dropd from vords kontaining 'ou’, and similar changes vud of kors; be aplid to ozer kombinations of leters.

After zis fifz yer, ve vil hav a reli sensibl riten styl. Zer vil b no mor trubls or difikultis and evrivun vil find it ezi tu understand ech ozer.

Ze drem vil finali kum tru.

[dlokalist]

Bisikletlilerin de hakları var yaaw!

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A retrospective on desire...

When I was in jr. high, all I wanted was a girl with big breasts. In high school, I dated a girl with big breasts, but there was no passion. 

So I decided I needed a passionate girl. In college, I dated a passionate girl, but she was too emotional. Everything was an emergency, she cried all the time. 

So I decided I needed a girl with some stability. I found a very stable girl, but she was boring. She never got excited about anything. 

So I decided I needed a girl with some excitement. I found an exciting girl, but I couldn’t keep up with her. She rushed from one thing to another, never settling on anything. She was directionless. 

So I decided to find a girl with some ambition. After college, I found an ambitious girl and married her. She was so ambitious, she divorced me and took everything I owned. 

Now all I want is a girl with big breasts.

[dlokalist]

The Pillars of the Temple

Then Almitra spoke again and said, And what of Marriage, Master?

And he answered, saying: You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore. You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days. Ay, you shall be together even in the silent Memory of God. But let there be spaces in your togetherness, And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.

Love one another, but make not a bond of love: Let it be rather a moving sea between the shores of your souls. Fill each other’s cup but drink not from one cup. Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf. Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone, Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.

Give your hearts, but not into each other’s keeping. For only the hand of life can contain your hearts. And stand together yet not too near together. For the pillars of the temple stand apart, And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other’s shadow.

The Prophet, Kahlil Gibran

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Bir Dost...

Saate bakmaksızın kapısını çalabileceği bir dostu olmalı insanın… 

“Nereden çıktın bu vakitte” dememeli,  Bir gece yarısı telaşla yataktan fırladığında;  Gözünün dilini bilmeli, dinlemeli, sormadan, söylemeden anlamalı…  Arka bahçede varlığını sezdirmeden,  Mütemadiyen dikilen vefalı bir ağaç gibi köklenmeli hayatında;

En mahrem sırlarını verebilmeli,  En derin yaralarını açıp gösterebilmelisin.  Gölgesinde serinlemelisin sorgusuz sualsiz.  Onca dalkavuk arasında bir tek o,  Sözünü eğip bükmeden söylemeli,  Yanlış anlaşılmayacağını bilmeli.

Alkışlandığında değil sadece,  Asıl yuhalandığında da yanında durup koluna girebilmeli.  Övmeli âlem içinde, baş başayken sövmeli.  Ve sen, öyle güvenmelisin ki ona övdüğünde de sövdüğünde de  Bunun iyilikten olduğunu bilmelisin.

Teklifsiz kefili olmalı hatalarının,  Günahlarının yegâne sahibi.  Seni senden iyi bilen, sana senden çok güvenen bir sırdaş,  Göz bebekleri bulutlandığında, fırtınayı sezebilmelisin.  Ve sen ağladığında onun gözlerinden gelmeli yaş…

Yıllarca aynı ip üstünde çalışmış,  İki trapezci gibi güvenle kenetlenmeli elleri…  Parkurun bütün zorluklarına rağmen,  “Dostluğumuzu koruyabildik,  Acıları birlikte göğüsledik ya  Yenildik sayılmayız” diyebilmeli…

Issızlığın, yalnızlığın en koyulaştığı anda,  Küçücük bir kâğıda yazdığımız  Kısa ama ümitvarî bir yazıyı  Yüreğe benzer bir taşa bağlayıp  Birbirimizin camından içeri atabilmeliyiz.  “Bunu da aşacağız! -bir dost”

Degerli dostum Berna Kaya tarafindan paylasilmistir.

[dlokalist]

The Meaning of Life, as relayed by the Little Prince

The meaning of life can come to us from many sources. Whether it be a book, a song, through meditation, in a dream, or by some other means. I found it in the following passage:

But it happened that after walking for a long time through sand, and rocks, and snow, the little prince at last came upon a road. And all roads lead to the abodes of men.

“Good morning," he said.

He was standing before a garden, all a-bloom with roses.

“Good morning," said the roses.

The little prince gazed at them. They all looked like his flower.

“Who are you?" he demanded, thunderstruck.

“We are roses," the roses said.

And he was overcome with sadness. His flower had told him that she was the only one of her kind in all the universe. And here were five thousand of them, all alike, in one single garden!

Then he went on with his reflections: “I thought that I was rich, with a flower that was unique in all the world; and all I had was a common rose. A common rose, and three volcanoes that come up to my knees-and one of them perhaps extinct forever… That doesn’t make me a very great prince…”

~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~

And he lay down in the grass and cried. it was then that the fox appeared.

“Good morning," said the fox.

“Good morning," the little prince responded politely, although when he turned around he saw nothing.

“I am right here," the voice said, "under the apple tree.”

“Who are you?" asked the little prince, and added, "You are very pretty to look at.”

“I am a fox," the fox said.

“Come and play with me," proposed the little prince. "I am so unhappy.”

“I cannot play with you," the fox said. "I am not tamed.”

“Ah! Please excuse me," said the little prince.

But, after some thought, he added:

“What does that mean-`tame’?”

“You do not live here," said the fox. "What is it that you are looking for?”

“I am looking for men," said the little prince. "What does that mean-`tame’?”

“Men," said the fox. "They have guns, and they hunt. It is very disturbing. They also raise chickens. These are their only interests. Are you looking for chickens?”

“No," said the little prince. "I am looking for friends. What does that mean-`tame’?”

“It is an act too often neglected," said the fox. "It means to establish ties.”

“'To establish ties'?”

“Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world…”

“I am beginning to understand," said the little Prince. "There is a flower… I think that she has tamed me…”

“It is possible," said the fox. "On the Earth one sees all sorts of things.”

“Oh, but this is not on the Earth!" said the little prince.

The fox seemed perplexed, and very curious.

“On another planet?”

“Yes.”

“Are there hunters on that planet?”

“No.”

“Ah, that is interesting! Are there chickens?”

“No.”

“Nothing is perfect," sighed the fox.

But he came back to his idea.

~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~

“My life is very monotonous," he said. "I hunt chickens; men hunt me. All the chickens are just alike, and all the men are just alike. And, in consequence, I am a little bored. But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the color of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat…”

The fox gazed at the little prince, for a long time.

“Please-tame me!" he said.

“I want to, very much," the little prince replied.

“But I have not much time. I have friends to discover, and a great many things to understand.”

“One only understands the things that one tames," said the fox. "Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy things all ready made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends any more. If you want a friend, tame me…”

“What must I do, to tame you?" asked the little prince.

“You must be very patient," replied the fox. "First you will sit down at a little distance from me-like that-in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. But you will sit a little closer to me, every day.”

The next day the little prince came back.

~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~

“It would have been better to come back at the same hour," said the fox. "If, for example, you come at four o’clock in the afternoon, then at three o’clock I shall begin to be happy. I shall feel happier and happier as the hour advances. At four o’clock, I shall already be worrying and jumping about. I shall show you how happy I am! But if you come at just any time, I shall never know at what hour my heart is to be ready to greet you… One must observe the proper rites…”

“What is a rite?" asked the little prince.

“Those also are actions too often neglected”, said the fox. “They are what make one day different from other days, one hour from other hours. There is a rite, for example, among my hunters. Every Thursday they dance with the village girls. So Thursday is a wonderful day for me! I can take a walk as far as the vineyards. But if the hunters danced at just any time, every day would be like every other day, and I should never have any vacation at all.”

So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near “Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry.”

“It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you…”

“Yes, that is so," said the fox.

“But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.

“Yes, that is so," said the fox.

“Then it has done you no good at all!”

“It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields." And then he added:

“Go and look again at the roses. You will understand now that yours is unique in all the world. Then come back to say good-bye to me, and I will make you a present of a secret.”

~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~

The little prince went away, to look again at the roses.

“You are not at all like my rose," he said. "As yet you are nothing. No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one. You are like my fox when I first knew him. He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But I have made him my friend, and now he is unique in all the world.”

And the roses were very much embarrassed.

“You are beautiful, but you are empty," he went on. "One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you-the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose.”

And he went back to meet the fox.

“Good-bye," he said.

“Good-bye," said the fox. "And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”

“What is essential is invisible to the eye," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.

“It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.”

“It is the time I have wasted for my rose-" said the little prince, so that he would be sure to remember.

~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~

“Men have forgotten this truth," said the fox. "But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose…”

“I am responsible for my rose," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.

- The Little Prince,  Written and illustrated by  Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

This is it then, we are here to ‘tame’ others and allow them to ‘tame’ us. For till this happens we are nothing but a back drop - cosmic props so to say - in other peoples plays and they are given the same status in our grand production. But when we reach out beyond our small bubble and touch the hearts of others, then we find the true magic. At this point we become real and the wall that separates us all falls.

At that moment we can hear the music that underlies the universe and have found a partner to dance to it with…

[dlokalist]

Eflatun'a iki soru sormuslar...

Birincisi: “Insanoğlunun sizi en çok şaşırtan davranışları nedir ?”

Eflatun tek tek sıralamış:

"Çocukluktan sıkılırlar ve büyümek için acele ederler.Ne var ki çocukluklarini özlerler…"

"Para kazanmak için sagliklarini yitirirler. Ama sagliklarini geri almak için de para öderler…"

"Yarindan endise ederken bugünü unuturlar. Dolayisiyla ne bugünü ne de yarini yasarlar."

"Hiç ölmeyecek gibi yasarlar. Ancak hiç yasamamis gibi ölürler…"

Sıra gelmiş ikinci soruya: “Peki sen ne öneriyorsun?”

Bilge yine sıralamış:

"Kimseye kendinizi "sevdirmeye" kalkmayin! Yapilmasi gereken tek sey, sadece kendinizi "sevilmeye" birakmaktir…"

"Onemli olan; hayatta "en çok seye sahip olmak" degil, "en az seye ihtiyaç duymaktir"

[dlokalist]

Homage to Saint. Ex

At the tender age of twelve, I was introduced to this “children’s book” by my French class teacher, at the ‘preparatoire” of Saint Michel. Her name was Mademoiselle Liliane. I owe her my love for -and knowledge of- ‘Francais’. She was one hot ‘bubba’leh. I would learn anything she taught, so long as they let me look at her…

The book is a classic, and it is called ‘The Little Prince’. If you have never read it, get a hold of a copy now and read it! If you have read it - read it again! I promise, you will find another wisdom hidden in it that you did not notice the first or second time you read it. I must have read it a dozen times since 1971, in three languages, and flipped through its pages hundreds of times and I still enjoy it!

This post is dedicated to the memory of Mademoiselle Liliane, The Little Prince and The Fox that we are all in need of taming.

[dlokalist]

A Message to Garcia

Years ago, when I was in boarding school in Israel, my father (rest in peace) sent me a newspaper clipping from a Turkish newspaper. It was an editorial that started with a story. The story was titled ‘Garcia’ya bir Mektup’ or in English: ‘a Letter to Garcia’. It left a deep effect on me that carried into my later years. I think it was the combination of the strength of the message and the fact that my father thought of clipping it and took the time of mailing it to me. Since he was a man of few words, typical of fathers of those years, it impressed me as a sign that he cared. I still have that clipping stashed away somewhere. When i find it I will post it here for my Turkish friends to read the original. So you can imagine my amazement and joy, when I stumbled into its English version on the net one day. I am posting it here for the young minds to read and hopefully benefit from it as I did when I read it for the first time 25 years ago. This page is dedicated to my father, who cared.

In all this Cuban business there is one man stands out on the horizon of my memory like Mars at perihelion. When war broke out between Spain & the United States, it was very necessary to communicate quickly with the leader of the Insurgents. Garcia was somewhere in the mountain vastness of Cuba- no one knew where. No mail nor telegraph message could reach him. The President must secure his cooperation, and quickly. What to do! Some one said to the President, “There’s a fellow by the name of Rowan will find Garcia for you, if anybody can.” Rowan was sent for and given a letter to be delivered to Garcia. How “the fellow by the name of Rowan” took the letter, sealed it up in an oil-skin pouch, strapped it over his heart, in four days landed by night off the coast of Cuba from an open boat, disappeared into the jungle, & in three weeks came out on the other side of the Island, having traversed a hostile country on foot, and delivered his letter to Garcia, are things I have no special desire now to tell in detail. The point I wish to make is this: McKinley gave Rowan a letter to be delivered to Garcia; Rowan took the letter and did not ask, “Where is he at?” By the Eternal! there is a man whose form should be cast in deathless bronze and the statue placed in every college of the land. It is not book-learning young men need, nor instruction about this and that, but a stiffening of the vertebrae which will cause them to be loyal to a trust, to act promptly, concentrate their energies: do the thing- “Carry a message to Garcia!”

General Garcia is dead now, but there are other Garcias.

No man, who has endeavored to carry out an enterprise where many hands were needed, but has been well nigh appalled at times by the imbecility of the average man- the inability or unwillingness to concentrate on a thing and do it.

Slip-shod assistance, foolish inattention, dowdy indifference, & half-hearted work seem the rule; and no man succeeds, unless by hook or crook, or threat, he forces or bribes other men to assist him; or mayhap, God in His goodness performs a miracle, & sends him an Angel of Light for an assistant. You, reader, put this matter to a test: You are sitting now in your office- six clerks are within call.

Summon any one and make this request: “Please look in the encyclopedia and make a brief memorandum for me concerning the life of Correggio”.

Will the clerk quietly say, “Yes, sir,” and go do the task? On your life, he will not. He will look at you out of a fishy eye and ask one or more of the following questions:

Who was he?

Which encyclopedia?

Where is the encyclopedia?

Was I hired for that?

Don’t you mean Bismarck?

What’s the matter with Charlie doing it?

Is he dead?

Is there any hurry?

Shan’t I bring you the book and let you look it up yourself?

What do you want to know for?

And I will lay you ten to one that after you have answered the questions, and explained how to find the information, and why you want it, the clerk will go off and get one of the other clerks to help him try to find Garcia- and then come back and tell you there is no such man. Of course I may lose my bet, but according to the Law of Average, I will not.

Now if you are wise you will not bother to explain to your “assistant” that Correggio is indexed under the C’s, not in the K’s, but you will smile sweetly and say, “Never mind,” and go look it up yourself.

And this incapacity for independent action, this moral stupidity, this infirmity of the will, this unwillingness to cheerfully catch hold and lift, are the things that put pure Socialism so far into the future. If men will not act for themselves, what will they do when the benefit of their effort is for all? A first-mate with knotted club seems necessary; and the dread of getting “the bounce” Saturday night, holds many a worker to his place.

Advertise for a stenographer, and nine out of ten who apply, can neither spell nor punctuate- and do not think it necessary to.

Can such a one write a letter to Garcia?

"You see that bookkeeper," said the foreman to me in a large factory.

"Yes, what about him?"

"Well he’s a fine accountant, but if I’d send him up town on an errand, he might accomplish the errand all right, and on the other hand, might stop at four saloons on the way, and when he got to Main Street, would forget what he had been sent for."

Can such a man be entrusted to carry a message to Garcia?

We have recently been hearing much maudlin sympathy expressed for the “downtrodden denizen of the sweat-shop” and the “homeless wanderer searching for honest employment,” & with it all often go many hard words for the men in power.

Nothing is said about the employer who grows old before his time in a vain attempt to get frowsy ne’er-do-wells to do intelligent work; and his long patient striving with “help” that does nothing but loaf when his back is turned. In every store and factory there is a constant weeding-out process going on.

The employer is constantly sending away “help” that have shown their incapacity to further the interests of the business, and others are being taken on.

No matter how good times are, this sorting continues, only if times are hard and work is scarce, the sorting is done finer- but out and forever out, the incompetent and unworthy go.

It is the survival of the fittest. Self-interest prompts every employer to keep the best- those who can carry a message to Garcia.

I know one man of really brilliant parts who has not the ability to manage a business of his own, and yet who is absolutely worthless to any one else, because he carries with him constantly the insane suspicion that his employer is oppressing, or intending to oppress him. He cannot give orders; and he will not receive them. Should a message be given him to take to Garcia, his answer would probably be, “Take it yourself.”

Tonight this man walks the streets looking for work, the wind whistling through his threadbare coat. No one who knows him dare employ him, for he is a regular fire-brand of discontent. He is impervious to reason, and the only thing that can impress him is the toe of a thick-soled No. 9 boot.

Of course I know that one so morally deformed is no less to be pitied than a physical cripple; but in our pitying, let us drop a tear, too, for the men who are striving to carry on a great enterprise, whose working hours are not limited by the whistle, and whose hair is fast turning white through the struggle to hold in line dowdy indifference, slip-shod imbecility, and the heartless ingratitude, which, but for their enterprise, would be both hungry & homeless.

Have I put the matter too strongly? Possibly I have; but when all the world has gone a-slumming I wish to speak a word of sympathy for the man who succeeds- the man who, against great odds has directed the efforts of others, and having succeeded, finds there’s nothing in it: nothing but bare board and clothes.

I have carried a dinner pail & worked for day’s wages, and I have also been an employer of labor, and I know there is something to be said on both sides. There is no excellence, per se, in poverty; rags are no recommendation; & all employers are not rapacious and high-handed, any more than all poor men are virtuous.

My heart goes out to the man who does his work when the “boss” is away, as well as when he is at home. And the man who, when given a letter for Garcia, quietly take the missive, without asking any idiotic questions, and with no lurking intention of chucking it into the nearest sewer, or of doing aught else but deliver it, never gets “laid off,” nor has to go on a strike for higher wages.

Civilization is one long anxious search for just such individuals. Anything such a man asks shall be granted; his kind is so rare that no employer can afford to let him go. He is wanted in every city, town and village- in every office, shop, store and factory.

The world cries out for such: he is needed, & needed badly- the man who can carry a message to Garcia.

-THE END-