Len This Country Quotes

In the South, Christianity was as ubiquitous as sweet tea and country music. Questioning my religion meant questioning how the entire world worked and my very identity.

As a side note, I hate assassination. It looks way too much like a dirty word. Either that or the name of a country populated entirely by two donkeys.

Understand that relativity is everywhere, and that we view everything through its lens - rose-colored or otherwise. When you meet someone in a different country or city and it seems that you have magical connection, realize that the enchantment might be limited to the surrounding circumstances.

I find it sickening that these men can face their congregations and their families and their college campuses and feel OK with trusting Donald Trump with their voice and their vote and their country—and still somehow explain it away through the lens of the teachings of Christ. It boggles my mind.

When diasporic Asian writers move to their ancestors' countries, they become Asian correspondents for the American media companies they work for, and the stories of contemporary Asia are told through their lens rather than that of journalists who grew up in that place. Sometimes I get the feeling that we aren't real people to them, merely inhabitants of a place where the real story is one about how they reconnected with their ancestors' culture.

Most people who haven’t had direct contact with the leadership of their own and other countries form their views based on what they learn in the media, and become quite naive and inappropriately opinionated as a result. That’s because dramatic stories and gossip draw more readers and viewers than does clinical objectivity. Also, in some cases “journalists” have their own ideological biases that they are trying to advance. As a result, most people who see the world through the lens of the media tend to look for who is good and who is evil rather than what the vested interests and relative powers are and how they are being played out. For example, people tend to embrace stories about how their own country is moral and the rival country is not, when most of the time these countries have different interests that they are trying to maximize. The best behaviors one can hope for come from leaders who can weigh the benefits of cooperation, and who have long enough time frames that they can see how the gifts they give this year may bring them benefits in the future.

When countries negotiate with one another, they typically operate as if they are opponents in a chess match or merchants in a bazaar in which maximizing one’s own benefit is the sole objective. Smart leaders know their own countries’ vulnerabilities, take advantage of others’ vulnerabilities, and expect the other countries’ leaders to do the same. Most people who haven’t had direct contact with the leadership of their own and other countries form their views based on what they learn in the media, and become quite naive and inappropriately opinionated as a result. That’s because dramatic stories and gossip draw more readers and viewers than does clinical objectivity. Also, in some cases “journalists” have their own ideological biases that they are trying to advance. As a result, most people who see the world through the lens of the media tend to look for who is good and who is evil rather than what the vested interests and relative powers are and how they are being played out. For example, people tend to embrace stories about how their own country is moral and the rival country is not, when most of the time these countries have different interests that they are trying to maximize. The best behaviors one can hope for come from leaders who can weigh the benefits of cooperation, and who have long enough time frames that they can see how the gifts they give this year may bring them benefits in the future.

If we analyze white supremacy from the philosophical lens of Star Wars, then it is all the Sith Lords, the Empire, and the First Order commanded by the Dark Side of the Force. It wants to dominate and impose its will on all galaxies, even those far, far away. Let’s just call this insidious force THE WHITENESS. The Whiteness’s ability to inspire fear and anger is so strong that it corrupted many well-​intentioned people, including people of color, to vote for an incompetent vulgarian in 2016 and 2020. It deludes many liberal and “moderate” whites into believing that they are the “good” ones who are committed to social justice as they talk about white privilege but never actually give up any of it. Still, they’ll have these discussions about racial equality with their white friends in establishments with white patrons from white neighborhoods—​without including the rest of us. The Whiteness has always played for all the marbles. It’s not interested in diplomacy, a representative government, free and fair elections, equitable pay, and a delicious buffet of meals from a multitude of countries. It needs a border wall, a Muslim Ban, and affirmative action for wealthy white students at Yale University. It’s a system, a structure, a paradigm, an ideology whose ultimate goal is domination and submission by any means necessary.

I drove to the bar Theodosha had called from and parked on the street. The bar was a gray, dismal place, ensconced like a broken matchbox under a dying oak tree, its only indication of gaiety a neon beer sign that flickered in one window. She was at a table in back, the glow of the jukebox lighting her face and the deep blackness of her hair. She tipped a collins glass to her mouth, her eyes locked on mine. “Let me take you home,” I said. “No, thanks,” she replied. “Getting swacked?” “Merchie and I had another fight. He says he can’t take my pretensions anymore. I love the word ‘pretensions.’” “That doesn’t mean you have to get drunk,” I said. “You’re right. I can get drunk for any reason I choose,” she replied, and took another hit from the glass. Then she added incongruously, “You once asked Merchie what he was doing in Afghanistan. The answer is he wasn’t in Afghanistan. He was in one of those other God-forsaken Stone Age countries to the north, helping build American airbases to protect American oil interests. Merchie says they’re going to make a fortune. All for the red, white, and blue.” “Who is they?” But her eyes were empty now, her concentration and anger temporarily spent. I glanced at the surroundings, the dour men sitting at the bar, a black woman sleeping with her head on a table, a parolee putting moves on a twenty-year-old junkie and mother of two children who was waiting for her connection. These were the people we cycled in and out of the system for decades, without beneficial influence or purpose of any kind that was detectable. “Let’s clear up one thing. Your old man came looking for trouble at the club today. I didn’t start it,” I said. “Go to a meeting, Dave. You’re a drag,” she said. “Give your guff to Merchie,” I said, and got up to leave. “I would. Except he’s probably banging his newest flop in the hay. And the saddest thing is I can’t blame him.” “I think I’m going to ease on out of this. Take care of yourself, kiddo,” I said. “Fuck that ‘kiddo’ stuff. I loved you and you were too stupid to know it.” I walked back outside into a misting rain and the clean smell of the night. I walked past a house where people were fighting behind the shades. I heard doors slamming, the sound of either a car backfiring or gunshots on another street, a siren wailing in the distance. On the corner I saw an expensive automobile pull to the curb and a black kid emerge from the darkness, wearing a skintight bandanna on his head. The driver of the car, a white man, exchanged money for something in the black kid’s hand. Welcome to the twenty-first century, I thought. I opened my truck door, then noticed the sag on the frame and glanced at the right rear tire. It was totally flat, the steel rim buried deep in the folds of collapsed rubber. I dropped the tailgate, pulled the jack and lug wrench out of the toolbox that was arc-welded to the bed of the truck, and fitted the jack under the frame. Just as I had pumped the flat tire clear of the puddle it rested in, I heard footsteps crunch on the gravel behind me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a short, thick billy club whip through the air. Just before it exploded across the side of my head, my eyes seemed to close like a camera lens on a haystack that smelled of damp-rot and unwashed hair and old shoes. I was sure as I slipped into unconsciousness that I was inside an ephemeral dream from which I would soon awake.

With the lens of Jobs to Be Done, the Medtronic team and Innosight (including my coauthor David Duncan) started research afresh in India. The team visited hospitals and care facilities, interviewing more than a hundred physicians, nurses, hospital administrators, and patients across the country. The research turned up four key barriers preventing patients from receiving much-needed cardiac care: Lack of patient awareness of health and medical needs Lack of proper diagnostics Inability of patients to navigate the care pathway Affordability While there were competitors making some progress in India, the biggest competition was nonconsumption because of the challenges the Medtronic team identified. From a traditional perspective, Medtronic might have doubled down on doctors, asking them about priorities and tradeoffs in the product. What features would they value more, or less? Asking patients what they wanted would not have been top of the list of considerations from a marketing perspective. But when Medtronic revisited the problem through the lens of Jobs to Be Done, Monson says, the team realized that the picture was far more complex—and not one that Medtronic executives could have figured out from pouring over statistics of Indian heart disease or asking cardiologists how to make the pacemaker better. Medtronic has missed a critical component of the Job to Be Done.

you view the current status of the human body as a whole, many countries, like the United States, now confront a novel paradox. On the one hand, more wealth and impressive advances in health care, sanitation, and education since the Industrial Revolution have dramatically improved billions of people’s health, especially in developed nations. Children born today are far less likely to die from infectious mismatch diseases caused by the Agricultural Revolution and they are much more likely to live longer, grow taller, and be generally healthier than children born in my grandfather’s generation. As a consequence, the world’s population tripled over the course of the twentieth century. But on the other hand, our bodies face new problems that were barely on anyone’s radar screen a few generations ago. People today are much more likely to get sick from new mismatch diseases such as type 2 diabetes, heart disease, osteoporosis, and colon cancer, which were either absent or much less common for most of human evolutionary history, including most of the agricultural era. To understand how and why all this happened—and how to address these new problems—requires considering the industrial era through the lens of evolution. How did the Industrial Revolution along with the growth of capitalism, medical science, and public health affect the way our bodies grow and function? In

Mary viewed the world through the lens of religion. To her, the loss of her child was a sign from God. She interpreted it as a punishment for the toleration of Protestant heretics she had shown in her country.

The markets in Israel and Denmark would have allowed Better Place to reach a sustainable commercial scale within a manageable geographic scope. But as excitement around the company grew and scores of government delegations from around the world came to explore what Better Place might do in their own countries and regions, management attention shifted. Yielding to the temptation of fast, global growth, Better Place launched pilots and spent resources across the world from Australia to the Netherlands, Hawaii to Japan, China to California to Canada.

You don’t need to live in the 1800s or an impoverished war-torn country to gain perspective and gratitude, but you can simply learn about them. And maybe that’s all you need to adjust the lens through which you view your current situation.

I was watching the news when I was about eight, and they were debating whether the wealthy in America contributed enough in taxes. One side argued that the rich, as a class, contributed more than ninety percent of total taxes collected. That about half of the country paid nothing in taxes, or received money in food stamps and welfare. Whereas the top earners, after all was said and done, had about half of their income confiscated by the government. “The counterargument to this was that it wasn’t fair that these high earners made so much. They could afford to give up even more of their income. And that they couldn’t have possibly made their fortunes working hard and taking risks, like Steve Jobs. They could only have done so by cheating and stealing from others, or exploiting them.” Craft paused. “So I asked my father where he came out on the debate.” “And?” “He told me to imagine I had a test in school and I studied for an entire week, night and day. My friend spent the entire week playing video games and having fun at the beach. I ended up getting an A, and my friend got an F. So what if the teacher said, ‘it’s not fair that Bren got an A and his friend got an F. So we’re going to give you both C’s. Still passing, right? So it’s no big deal. Still plenty of cushion away from an F. The A earners shouldn’t be greedy.’ “My father let me think about this and then asked me what I’d do the next time a test came around. How would I prepare for it? It occurred to me that if I knew I really couldn’t earn an A, what was the point of killing myself? I told my father, and he agreed. In fact, he told me that soon the entire class would be getting Cs, and then Ds. And eventually Fs. Socialism at work.

So they found out all these exciting things about me, like: I drove an old pickup truck with cages in the back for my bird dogs, or I wore a Wal-Mart ball cap, or I got my hair cut at the barbershop just off the town square—somebody with a telephoto lens even snuck up and took a picture of me in the barber chair, and it was in newspapers all over the country.

Increased immigration and diversity are not only inevitable, but over the long run they are also desirable. Ethnic diversity is, on balance, an important social asset, as the history of my own country demonstrates.

Creating new songs is such a strange experience. Knowing that other people will hear your words. They might interpret them in a completely different way than you originally intended. The melodies might bring them great joy or aching sadness. We all interpret creative works through the lens of our own experiences, so they’re getting a piece of me and blending it with a piece of themselves. It’s beautiful. There’s so much division in the world. I love the thought of two people in different cities, countries, or continents listening to the same song at the same time. There’s magic in that.

The only lens through which she viewed politics was “will the issue in question serve the interests of the American people and make the country better?” That was it. Plain and simple.

Hardys set off for the Morton farm at five o’clock. When they arrived, the group learned that Chet had piled hay into his father’s truck, so they could all go on an old-fashioned hayride to the amusement park. “Len is going to drive us,” Iola announced. A big cheer went up from the boys. Len Wharton, a good-natured former cowboy, had recently come to work at the Morton place. Len grinned. “Shucks, I figured that if I was seventeen I sure wouldn’t want to be stuck with the drivin’” Zigzagging through the back-country roads, Len stretched the trip to Elkin

Only looking back at the scene through an adult lens do I see in the cracks of her face the sweet pain Ma Ma must have felt in those moments. Gratitude for the little she had. Heartbreak for needing it. Confusion over what our lives had become.

I did a study, called Men, that I’m hoping to make into a film. It’s about testosterone and how it acts in homogenized groups of male leadership. It’s about looking at what happens when you just have men at the fore of the political, financial, religious and cultural systems of the world. Historically, these systems were-and let’s be honest, still are-run by men: mostly white men. The continuation of this could be the end of us, because it’s one of the reasons we’ve had such intractability around climate change. In a closed system of male-dominated leadership, men’s testosterone and cortisol levels rise, which produces a really negative cascade of effects. It produces an acute focus on short-term threats and a very long-lens focus on long-term threats: so terrorism feels very, very immediate, but climate change-which is much more likely to be the bigger catastrophe-is put off. Men also fire dopamine and serotonin when they engage in conflict, so in these situations they exhibit much more risk-taking behavior. Women have somewhat of a different leadership style, so when you inject a tipping point of 30 per cent women into a ruling system of men, the entire group changes biochemically-communication, collaboration and consensus-building becomes more possible. My big theory is that, if more women were involved in the leadership of the world, in every country, we might see less war and more action on some of the direst threats. There are studies that bear this theory out; the countries that have the most progressive policies toward women generally have more women in office and in business. These countries also have the highest gross domestic products, they have the highest happiness indices and they have the lowest incidences of war. The countries that have the most repressive policies towards women are in endless cycles of war and tend to be doing very, very poorly.

Human beings are curious by nature, but over time we are at risk of losing our drive to understand new things. And it’s hard to learn if you already know. That’s why outsiders to any existing system (a family, a company, a country) bring such a valuable new lens. They know that they don’t know!

Some people loved the cities, with their culture, art, and endless opportunities for interesting social interaction. Some like the country, its simplicity and wide open spaces. But Alyssa Aronson only truly felt at peace when she was surrounded by the mightiest of earth’s living things. And with the possible exception of the Sequoia Forest in Northern California, teeming with trees that made the tallest, thickest specimens anywhere else look like adorable little babies, no place was more majestic than the Hoosier National Forest, two hundred thousand acres of soaring central hardwood trees, primarily oak and hickory.

Like all societies in history, all Western nations have racism in their histories. But that is not the only history of our countries. Racism is not the sole lens through which our societies can be understood, and yet it is increasingly the only lens used. Everything in the past is seen as racist, and so everything in the past is tainted.

Every nation has a narrative—a story composed of historical interpretations, deletions, and fabrications that engender beliefs and traditions. And every national narrative has a “bad guy,” a scapegoat to take the blame for group and national failings, a bad guy against whom to unite the whole, to serve as a symbol of what the nation is not—thereby defining what the nation is. The antiwhites are products of this narrative, and the bad guy is my people, our people, the White race and our biospiritual expression: Western Civilization. Our most vulnerable members—our children—are the narrative’s primary victims. The Regime can never permit us to escape the role as the bad guy. It’s too important to the narrative. The narrative explains, defines, frames, and predicts the world as seen through the Regime’s self-serving lens. It also unites the diverse peoples that live in our countries. Without a common enemy at whom to direct unifying anger, an enemy who “oppresses” and “exploits” them, they would turn on one another—as has already begun in many areas where we are too few to blame. This Antiwhite Narrative cannot be altered, and it will not end well for us and our children. Either we jump off the pages of the narrative that stigmatizes us as the bad guy, the scapegoat, or we follow that story to its grisly conclusion. Our alternative is the pen and the blank page on which to write our own story, a story where we are not demonized for embracing our dignity, identity, and inheritance, where we are not vilified and discriminated against, where we can practice our culture, civilization, and religions the way we want to practice them, without being made to feel guilty for our preferences and history—a story where we are the good guys, the heroes, and where we have a future that is bright and safe for our children.

With a wide-angle lens, this book traces the political, economic, racial, and sexual divisions in modern America, but also the cultural and technological changes that confronted and contorted the country along the way. Following these fault lines, in both senses of the term, we examine the history of our divided America.

The story isn’t just about murder. It’s about love and yearning and seduction and passion, fulfilled and unrequited. It is a portrait of a country torn apart by devastating defeat. And it focuses a remarkably attentive lens on the cultlike world of the Japanese tattoo, in all its glory and gruesomeness. Takagi explores every aspect of this “living art.” He gives us the tattooed and the tattooists, the enchanted novices and the manic collectors who pay money in advance to “harvest” the design from its “wearer” when he or she dies, an item they then mount and frame. Takagi introduces emotionally complex characters from all walks of Japanese life, each ensnared in his or her own way by an obsession with this veiled realm.

Environmental historian Valeria Fogleman wrote that perhaps the early Christian colonists saw themselves figuratively as the wolves’ prey based on the New Testament’s anecdote of Jesus sending his followers out as sheep among wolves. Their antipathy and fear toward wolves was a physical manifestation of their spiritual protectiveness, she wrote, for “wolves were considered capable of murdering a person’s soul.” Wolves were also viewed through a religious and cultural lens as animals that made pacts with the devil, thereby garnering them the stigma of being full of trickery and evil. Livestock damages may have been the rational argument for clearing wolves from the woods around settlements, but wolves likely also symbolized a potent religious threat in the minds of some early colonists. The Native Americans did not view wolves so negatively, and some even tattooed images of wolves - along with moose, deer, bears, and birds - on their cheeks and arms, according to William Wood, writing about New England in 1634, described the “ravenous howling Wolfe: Whose meagre paunch suckes like a swallowing gulfe” in a passage that imparts the belief that wolves consumed more prey than was necessary. Wood wished that all the wolves of the country could be replaced by bears, but only on the condition that the wolves were banished completely, because he believed wolves hunted and ate black bears. He also lamented that “common devourer,” the wolf, preying upon moose and deer. No doubt, the colonists wanted the bears, moose, and deer for their own meat and hide supplies. Yet Wood also observed the wolves of New England to be different from wolves in other countries. He wrote that they were not known to attack people, and that they did not attack horses or cows but went after pigs, goats, and red calves. The colonists seemed to believe the wolves mistook calves that were more coppery colored for deer, so much so that a red-colored calf sold for much less than a black one.

Secondly, ex-combatants shouldn’t be seen—or be encouraged to see themselves—as victims. One can be deeply traumatized, as firemen are by the deaths of both colleagues and civilians, without being viewed through the lens of victimhood. Lifelong disability payments for a disorder like PTSD, which is both treatable and usually not chronic, risks turning veterans into a victim class that is entirely dependent on the government for their livelihood. The United States is a wealthy country that may be able to afford this, but in human terms, the veterans can’t.

A so-called Len Bias case is based in federal law. Under that law, a person who supplies drugs that cause a fatal overdose may be charged with a conspiracy that results in death—a charge that carries a twenty-year prison sentence. Cops have to prove the person died from the suspect’s drugs; a chain of custody has to be established. But if they can do that, they have a powerful prosecutorial tool and one that was getting a closer look in many parts of the country as the opiate epidemic and fatal drug overdoses spread across the nation. One place that refined the strategy was Portland, Oregon. The benefit prosecutors see in Len Bias is that it allows investigators to work up a chain of drug distribution. To save himself from a Len Bias prosecution, a dealer needs to flip, and quickly, burning the dealer one link above him in the chain, hoping for leniency at sentencing time. The last man detectives can trace the drugs to faces the twenty years if convicted—a fateful game of musical chairs.

The reason the loanable funds story is not in sync with reality is that it asks us to treat the federal government like a currency user. When we reject this naïve lens, we see that countries like the US aren’t dependent on borrowing to fund themselves, nor are they at the mercy of private investors when they do sell bonds.17 Uncle Sam is not a beggar, who must go hat in hand, in search of funding to support his desired spending. He’s a muscular currency issuer! He can choose to borrow (or not), and Congress can always decide what rate of interest it will pay on any bonds it decides to offer. That’s not true of all countries, but it is true of those with monetary sovereignty.

Your ‘thoughts’ convert to words, words become your actions; your actions are transformed into habits, and habits form your values – which make your destiny. M.Gandhi Thoughts are our destiny, it is the reality of the life, Mahatma Gandhi (151st birthday today) is being celebrated in India and many more countries of the world. Such and many more inspirational thoughts have been elaborated in the book 'Through The Lens - Santosh Chadha)