Rich Brian Quotes

You will find joy, frustration and sorrow in your quest. Never forget that friendship and loyalty are more precious than riches...Happiness can be brief, but it knows no time in the land of dreams.

I have never yet known a man admit that he was either rich or asleep: perhaps the poor man and the wakeful man have some great moral advantage.

Yes, it is a rich language, Lieutenant, full of the mythologies of fantasy and hope and self-deception - a syntax opulent with tomorrows. It is our response to mud cabins and a diet of potatoes; our only method of replying to... inevitabilities.

The sad fact is that people are poor because they have not yet decided to be rich. People are overweight and unfit because they have not yet decided to be thin and fit. People are inefficient time wasters because they haven’t yet decided to be highly productive in everything they do.

But before Christianity was a rich and powerful religion, before it was associated with buildings, budgets, crusades, colonialism, or televangelism, it began as a revolutionary nonviolent movement promoting a new kind of aliveness on the margins of society.

I have never yet known a man admit that he was either rich or asleep.

If there is one thing I know, it is this, rich people are remarkably unremarkable.

On a clear day the Oregon coast is the most beautiful place on earth—clear and crisp and clean, a rich green in the land and a bright blue in the sky, the air fat and salty and bracing, the ocean spreading like a grin. Brown pelicans rise and fall in their chorus lines in the wells of the waves, cormorants arrow, an eagle kingly queenly floats south high above the water line.

Even the poorest House can be rich in loyalty. Allegiance that must be purchased by bribes or wages is hollow and flawed, and could break at the worst possible moment. Allegiance that comes from the heart, though, is stronger than adamantium and more valuable than purest melange.

Are you very much attached to money?’ asked Stephen. ‘I love it passionately,’ said Jack, with truth ringing clear in his voice. ‘I have always been poor, and I long to be rich.

I wonder, James, whether it is not too easy for a rich man to despise money

A rich man, was one who spent a million.

People kill to get power, they kill to keep power, and they kill if they think they might lose it, which is pretty much always. Even if you and I both stay out of it, even if we both die, whoever came after us will keep coming. They’ll find the next threat, the next worrisome voice, the next person with the wrong name or the wrong skin. Maybe they’ll go after the rich for their coin or the peasants for their rice, the Bascans because they’re too dark or the Breatans because they’re too pale—it doesn’t matter.

We’ve probably all heard that traditional Chinese women were basically powerless, and only started to claim their rights with the dawn of Westernization. But there’s another side of Chinese tradition, where the folklore is rich in goddesses, immortal women, and female heroes.

Baron Vladimir Harkonnen had made a lifetime career of seeking new experiences. He dabbled in hedonistic pleasures - rich foods, exotic drugs, deviant sex - discovering things he had never done before. But a baby in Harkonnen Keep...how would he handle that?

I should probably give up pretending I'm going to be somebody someday, he said, but a rich fantasy life is one of my best qualities. —Fantasy Life

Imagine if organized religion organized billions of people and trillions of dollars to tackle the challenges that our economic and political systems are afraid or unwilling to tackle—a planet ravaged by unsustainable human behavior and an out-of-control consumptive economy, the growing gap between the rich minority and the poor majority, and the proliferation of weapons of all kinds—including weapons of mass destruction. “Wow,” people frequently say when I propose these possibilities. “If they did that, I might become religious again.” Some quickly add, “But I won’t hold my breath. It’ll never happen.

If the intention is clear the mechanism will appear

A man is only as rich as the people around him

As you fulfill your own dreams, you make a difference in the world around you. When you become a master of life, you have the power to affect the lives of others inn unimaginable ways!

Robin’s experience is his love for his fellow man. He was in the fortunate position of having plenty of money, yet it wasn’t just money that he was willing to give away; he gave something far more important – his time and energy. There is little doubt that, were he still alive, he would be planning more ways to help those in need. Whether rich or poor, we can all do more than we do to help others.

For people who are poor at being spiritual (which is most people), this announcement really is good news. But do you see how counterintuitive this is? The kingdom of God is coming on earth, and who would we think would be the first ones invited in? The religious. The devout. The observant. The ones rich in spirituality. The ones good at being spiritual. But that’s not how Jesus issued the invitation, and it’s not what happened. It was the spiritual elites, the Pharisees, Sadducees, priests, scribes, and Torah lawyers who had the most trouble with Jesus. The company of Jesus’s followers was largely comprised of people for whom being spiritual was not their primary identity—fishermen, tradesmen, tax collectors, and a wide variety of sinners.

Perhaps the best way to understand the book of Revelation is that it is a prophetic critique of civil religion. By civil religion I mean the religion of state where the state is the actual object of worship. Civil religion is religious patriotism. Christians are called to practice responsible citizenship but to renounce religious patriotism. In the practice of civil religion, the truth that the state is what is actually being deified and worshiped is usually carefully concealed. Instead of directly worshiping the state as God, worship of the state is expressed through sacred symbols, myths, and personifications of the state treated with religious reverence. The tendency to deify the state is particularly pronounced in empires—rich and powerful nations that believe they have a divine right to rule other nations and a manifest destiny to shape history according to their agenda. God’s contention with empire is one of the major themes of the Bible. From Egypt and Assyria to Babylonia and Rome, the prophets constantly critique empire as a direct challenge to the sovereignty of God. This prophetic tradition of empire critique reaches its apex in the book of Revelation. John the Revelator tells us that Rome’s claim of a divine right to rule the nations and of a manifest destiny to shape history is the very thing that God has given to his Son, Jesus Christ. Thus the drama of Revelation is cast as an epic conflict between the Lamb (Jesus) and the Beast (Rome).

Brian orders us both Grandpa's Turtle Sundaes, a classic with vanilla ice cream, hot fudge, caramel sauce, whipped cream and nuts, topped with a house-made turtle candy instead of a cherry. Sigh. So much for getting out of the elastic waistband pants anytime soon. But the thing is, it works. Decadent, insane, over the top, but so freaking delicious. Cold ice cream, fluffy whipped cream, the mingling richness of fudge and caramel, perfectly tempered with the salt and crunch of toasted pecans and peanuts. A weirdly perfect food.

Whatever the water touched was riparian: that moist layer of air and rich earth along the shore was an Eden for many forms of life. Some drowned in a daily flood, while those that knew how, thrived. There was something riparian too about the people who spent most of their time on the water. Those whose language and equilibrium had been dictated by the elements around them. Who’d learned to hang on in the ever-shifting swell and drift of water under their feet. Contrast and contradictions abounded for those who had learned to meander despite limited space or to be still in the midst of all that rocking.

If enough individuals are full of despair and anger in their hearts, there will be violence in the streets. If enough individuals are full of greed and fear in their hearts, there will be racism and oppression in society. You can't remove the external social symptoms without treating the corresponding internal personal diseases...Pope Francis draws our attention to the 'invisible thread' of the market, which he describes as 'the mentality of profit at any price, with no concern for social exclusion or the destruction of nature.' This mentality generates inequality, which in turn generates 'a violence which no police, military, or intelligence resources can control'...changed individuals cross racial, religious, ethnic, class or political boundaries to build friendships. These friendship work like sutures, healing wounds in the social fabric. They 'humanize the other,' making it harder for groups to stereotype or scapegoat. They create little zones where the beloved community is manifest...They help people envision the common good--a situation where all are safe, free, and able to thrive. As my friend Shane Claiborne says, our problem isn't that rich people don't care about poor people; it's that all too often, rich people don't know any poor people. Knowing one another makes interpersonal change and reconciliation possible. (p. 167-168)

You wouldn’t think this, but I almost never went to the beach as a kid, even though it was only a few miles away. The first time I ever went to the ocean I couldn’t believe it. My dad took us, and I was so scared at the size of the ocean. Also, I had light skin that burned easily and I didn’t like squinting against the sun for hours. Once I went with my friend Rich Sloan and I kept my jeans on so the sun couldn’t get to me. And there was barely any surfing either. I tried once and got conked on the head with the board. So Los Angeles and California were more about the idea of going in the ocean than they were about actually going in the ocean. I liked to look at it, though. It was sort of like a piece of music: each of the waves was moving around by itself, but they were also moving together.

Inspired by the punched railway tickets of the time, an inventor by the name of Herman Hollerith devised a system of punched manila cards to store information, and a machine, which he called the Hollerith Machine, to count and sort them. Hollerith was awarded a patent in 1889, and the government adopted the Hollerith Machine for the 1890 census. No one had ever seen anything like it. Wrote one awestruck observer, “The apparatus works as unerringly as the mills of the Gods, but beats them hollow as to speed.” Another, however, reasoned that the invention was of limited use: “As no one will ever use it but governments, the inventor will not likely get very rich.” This prediction, which Hollerith clipped and saved, would not prove entirely correct. Hollerith’s firm merged with several others in 1911 to become the Computing-Tabulating-Recording Company. A few years later it was renamed—to International Business Machines, or IBM.

SPIEGEL: You have a lot of respect for the Dalai Lama, you even rewrote some Buddhist writings for him. Are you a religious person? Cleese: I certainly don't think much of organized religion. I am not committed to anything except the vague feeling that there is something more going on than the materialist reductionist people think. I think you can reduce suffering a little bit, like the Buddhists say, that is one of the few things I take seriously. But the idea that you can run this planet in a rational and kind way -- I think it's not possible. There will always be these sociopaths at the top -- selfish people, power-seekers who want to spend their whole lives seeking it. Robin Skynner, the psychiatrist that I wrote two books with, said to me that you could begin to enjoy life when you realized how bad the planet is, how hopeless everything is. I reached that point these last two or three years when I saw that our existence here is absolutely hopeless. I see the rich people have got a stranglehold on us. If somebody had said that to me when I was 20, I would have regarded him as a left-wing loony. SPIEGEL: You may not have been a left-wing loony, but you were happy to attack and ridicule the church. The "Life of Brian," the story of a young man in Judea who isn't Jesus Christ, but is nevertheless followed like a savior and crucified afterwards, was regarded as blasphemy when it was released in 1979. Cleese: Well there was a small number of people in country towns, all very conservative, who got upset and said, "You can't show the film." So people hired a coach and drove 15 miles to the next town and went to see the film there. But a lot of Christians said, "We got it, we know that the joke is not about religion, but about the way people follow religion." If Jesus saw the Spanish Inquisition I think he would have said, "What are you doing there?" SPIEGEL: These days Muslims and Islam are risky subjects. Do you think they are good issues for satire? Cleese: For sure. In 1982, Graham Chapman and I wrote a number of scenes for "The Meaning of Life" movie which had an ayatollah in them. This ayatollah was raging against all the evil inventions of the West, you know, like toilet paper. These scenes were never included in the film, although I thought they were much better than many other scenes that were included. And that's why I didn't do any more Python films: I didn't want to be outvoted any longer. But I wouldn't have made fun of the prophet. SPIEGEL: Why not? Cleese: How could you? How could you make fun of Jesus or Saint Francis of Assisi? They were wonderful human beings. People are only funny when they behave inappropriately, when they've been taken over by some egotistical emotion which they can't control and they become less human. SPIEGEL: Is there a difference between making fun of our side, so to speak, the Western, Christian side, and Islam? Cleese: There shouldn't be a difference. [SPIEGEL Interview with John Cleese: 'Satire Makes People Think' - 2015]

That must be my surgeon coming aboard. You will like him; a reading man too, most amazing learned; a full-blown physician into the bargain, and my particular friend. But I must tell you this, Yorke; he is wealthy – ‘ In point of fact Captain Aubrey had little idea of his surgeon’s fortune, apart from knowing that he owned a good deal of hilly land in Catalonia with a tumbledown castle on it. But Stephen had done pretty well out of the Mauritius campaign; his manner of living was Spartan – one suit of clothes every five years and perhaps a couple of shirts – and apart from books he had no visible expenses at all. Jack was no Macchiavel, but he did know that to the rich it should be given; that capital possessed a mystical significance; that even the most perfectly disinterested respected it and its owner; and that although a naval surgeon was ordinarily a person of no great consequence, the same man moved into quite a different category the moment he was endowed with comfortable private means. In short, that whereas an ordinary surgeon, living on his pay, might not readily be indulged in room for exotic livestock, an imperfectly- preserved giant squid, and several tons of natural specimens, in a stranger’s ship, a wealthy natural philosopher might meet with more consideration; and Jack knew how Stephen prized the collection he had made during their arduous voyage. ‘ – he is wealthy, and he only comes with me because of the opportunities for natural philosophy; though he is a first-rate surgeon, too, and we are lucky to have him. But this voyage the opportunities have been prodigious, and he has turned the Leopard into a down-right Ark. Most of the Desolation creatures are stuffed or pickled but there are some from New Holland that skip and bound about: I hope you are not too crowded in La Fleche?

But wait. My eyes are almost burned by what I see. There’s a bowl in front of me that wasn’t there before. A brown button bowl and in it some apricots, some small oranges, some nuts, cherries, a banana. The fruits, the colours, mesmerize me in a quiet rapture that spins through my head. I am entranced by colour. I lift an orange into the flat filthy palm of my hand and feel and smell and lick it. The colour orange, the colour, the colour, my God the colour orange. Before me is a feast of colour. I feel myself begin to dance, slowly, I am intoxicated by colour. I feel the colour in a quiet somnambulant rage. Such wonder, such absolute wonder in such an insignificant fruit. I cannot. I will not eat this fruit. I sit in quiet joy, so complete, beyond the meaning of joy. My soul finds its own completeness in that bowl of colour. The forms of each fruit. The shape and curl and bend all so rich, so perfect. I want to bow before it. Loving that blazing, roaring, orange colour ... Everything meeting in a moment of colour and form, my rapture no longer abstract euphoria. It is there in that tiny bowl, the world recreated in that broken bowl. I feel the smell of each fruit leaping into me and lifting me and carrying me away. I am drunk with something that I understand but cannot explain. I am filled with a sense of love. I am filled and satiated by it. What I have waited and longed for has without my knowing come to me, and taken all of me. For days I sit in a kind of dreamy lethargy, in part contemplation and in part worship. The walls seem to be singing. I focus all of my attention on the bowl of fruit. At times I fondle the fruits, at times I rearrange them, but I cannot eat them. I cannot hold the ecstasy of the moment and its passionate intensity. It seems to drift slowly from me as the place in which I am being held comes back to remind me of where I am and of my condition. But my containment does not oppress me. I sit and look at the walls but now this room seems so expansive, it seems I can push the walls away from me. I can reach out and touch them from where I sit and yet they are so far from me.

I wanted to shake her awake and ask what she saw in Mr. Moneybags. But having now met him, he was everything most women dream of—handsome, filthy rich, smart, filthy rich, principled, filthy rich, and with a very pleasant personality.

If string theory is right, the microscopic fabric of our universe is a richly intertwined multidimensional labyrinth within which the strings of the universe endlessly twist and vibrate, rhythmically beating out the laws of the cosmos.

While some groups charge a fee for founders to make pitches, I don’t think entrepreneurs should be asked to pay anything. The angel investors are certainly rich enough and smart enough to get sponsors to offset any administrative costs.

After the people had hastily crossed over, the priests took up the Ark and left the pile of stones in the riverbed. As soon as they had made their way onto the dry land, the waters of the Jordan began to flow again and the river renewed its course to the Dead Sea. The people made camp at a location they called Gilgal. They set up metal forges to immediately begin manufacturing more weapons for the Yahweh Wars before them. Forty troop units came over for battle with the people. But not all of Israel came over with them that day. The Reubenites, the Gadites, and the half tribe of Manasseh had begged Moses before he died to give them the land east of the Jordan as their inheritance. It was where they had conquered Sihon and Og, and it was a rich fertile area that the tribes desired. He had granted it to them on the condition that they would send their warriors across the Jordan to fight with the rest of the tribes in Canaan. Only after they had secured their victories would they be allowed to go back and build their lives with their tribes in the Transjordan.

Originators, however, do not merely master functionalities and use them once and finally in their great creation. What always precedes invention is a lengthy period of accumulating functionalities and of experimenting with them on small problems as five-finger exercises. Often in this period of working with functionalities you can see hints of what originators will use. Five years before his revelation, Charles Townes had argued in a memo that microwave radio "has now been extended to such short wavelengths that it overlaps a region rich in molecular resonances, where quantum mechanical theory and spectroscopic techniques can provide aids to radio engineering." Molecular resonance was exactly what he would use to invent the maser.

According to Brian Uzzi, a management professor at Northwestern University, networks come with three major advantages: private information, diverse skills, and power. By developing a strong network, people can gain invaluable access to knowledge, expertise, and influence. Extensive research demonstrates that people with rich networks achieve higher performance ratings, get promoted faster, and earn more money. And because networks are based on interactions and relationships, they serve as a powerful prism for understanding the impact of reciprocity styles on success.

Does the fact that Ezekiel 32:22-31 teaches we will actually recognize our neighbor in his eternal destination change how we interact with him today? Perhaps, if we are looking toward a spirit-only existence with no connection to our lives on Earth, we can choose not to confront and maintain our respectable position in this world's order. But, if Lazarus can recognize the rich man in Your story, Lord Jesus, not called a parable, we may need to adjust our idea of eternity. If we will be able to identify those in the Philippines or Chile that we ministered to in Your Name, then of what miniscule consequences are the resources on Earth we do without? 10/19/11

Specifically, I want to bring these songs and texts to bear on the ecological crisis. It seems to me that the environmental crisis is, at heart, a failure and a perversion of the human imagination. Our imaginations have been taken captive by an ecocidal ideology of economic growth that invariably will render us homeless in a world unfit for habitation. If imagination is the issue, then a redirection of our lives toward creation care will not emerge out of statistics of ecological despoliation, as important as those statistics might be. What we need is liberated imagination, imagination set free to envision an alternative life, an ecological imagination that engenders a life of restorative homemaking in our creational home. Cockburn’s art, especially when interpreted in dialogue with biblical visions, is a rich resource for funding such an imagination.[206]

Coconut oil is also rich in vitamin E which promotes strong and healthy hair.

No generation at any time has ever lived in a world so rich and diverse in storytelling. It changed you.

But now he was finally gone. Abigail was free.   When David received word of Nabal’s demise, he praised Yahweh for the merciful rescue of Abigail. He immediately sent for her to ask her hand in marriage. Though she was a most desirable woman, and though they had been drawn to each other with intense attraction, it was still a political move for them both. For her, she would have the protection of a husband whom she was sure would be the next king. For him, he gained the wealth and resources of a rich, landowning widow, who was a high-ranking member of the clan that controlled the Hebron area, a target for his eventual proclamation of kingship. In this world of blood and iron, romantic attraction was a luxury in the politics of kingdoms and dynasties. David was overwhelmed with gratitude to Yahweh for giving him far beyond what he deserved with this amazing woman he was about unite with in holy matrimony.

Jesus himself used the term Hades as the location of damned spirits in contrast with heaven as the location of redeemed spirits when he talked of Capernaum rejecting miracles, “And you, Capernaum, will you be exalted to heaven? You will be brought down to Hades” (Matt. 11:23). Hades was also the location of departed spirits in his parable of Lazarus and the rich man in Hades (Luke 16:19-31).

turned the majority of their kingdom — the peasants, workers, and slaves — against the wealthy members of society. They encouraged hatred of the rich for their ostentatious conspicuous consumption —all the rich, that is, except for the royal family, whose wealth was needed to rule beneficently. Then they confiscated most of the wealth of these “greedy” rich through excessive taxation, in the name of spreading the wealth around, so that “all would be equal.” But the rich were ruined and could no longer afford to employ the poor commoners in their fields and storehouses. The government then had to confiscate the means of production and place all citizens in their care as wards of the state. So commoners ended up not much different than slaves. They depended upon the government for their daily bread, their shelter, and even their health. The daily survival of the citizens was completely in the hands of Semiramis and Mardon.

In Plato's parable of the cave, our senses are privy only to a flattened, diminished version of the true, more richly textured, reality. Maldacena's flattened world is very different. Far from being diminished, it tells the full story. It's a profoundly different story from the one we're used to. But his flattened world may well be the primary narrator.

Stephen Maturin sipped his scalding coffee, the right Mocha berry, brought back from Arabia Felix in the pilgrim dhows, and considered. He was naturally a reserved and even a secretive man: his illegitimate birth (his father was an Irish officer in the service of His Most Catholic Majesty, his mother a Catalan lady) had to do with this; his activities in the cause of the liberation of Ireland had more; and his voluntary, gratuitous alliance with naval intelligence, undertaken with the sole aim of helping to defeat Bonaparte, whom he loathed with all his heart as a vile tyrant, a wicked cruel vulgar man, a destroyer of freedom and of nations, and as a betrayor of all that was good in the Revolution, had even more. Yet the power of keeping his mouth shut was innate; so perhaps was the integrity that made him one of the Admiralty’s most valued secret agents, particularly in Catalonia – a calling very well disguised by his also being an active naval surgeon, as well as a natural philosopher of international renown, one whose name was familiar to all those who cared deeply about the extinct solitaire of Rodriguez (close cousin to the dodo), the great land tortoise Testudo aubreii of the Indian Ocean, or the habits of the African aardvark. Excellent agent though he was, he was burdened with a heart, a loving heart that had very nearly broken for a woman named Diana Villiers: she had preferred an American to him – a natural preference, since Mr. Johnson was a fine upstanding witty intelligent man, and very rich, whereas Stephen was a plain bastard at the best, sallow with odd pale eyes, sparse hair and meager limbs, and rather poor.

I think you mean she terrifies you,” I corrected. “She’s a little old lady,” Brian scoffed. “She’s harmless.” I arched a challenging eyebrow. “This town is rich on rumors,” I supplied. “One woman – the one who owns that porcelain unicorn store – told me that Tillie Winchester sacrifices goats and can read minds. “One of those freaky red-haired twins – the ones who look like real-life Chucky dolls – told me that Aunt Tillie told him she would curse his tongue to fall out if he ever called her a witch again,” I continued. “And that woman who sells caramel apples at the fairs? Yeah, she told me that all the Winchesters dance naked under every full moon and cast spells to make sure the town stays prosperous.

Tim Ferriss, Rogaine, Brian Rose, Rich Roll... etc. how do they get away with this shit. Have long talks with mostly uninteresting characters, and sometimes they just fucking interview each other. How do I get in on the action. On this little scam. Just kidding. I have better things to do. I got Runescape. Sometimes I watch Mishlove. At least he talks to dogs and poltergeists.

16And I pray that he would unveil within you the unlimited riches of his glory and favor until supernatural strength floods your innermost being with his divine might and explosive power.

Not all evangelicals jumped on the anti-Muslim bandwagon. In 2007, nearly 300 Christian leaders signed the “Yale Letter,” a call for Christians and Muslims to work together for peace. Published in the New York Times, the letter was signed by several prominent evangelical leaders, including megachurch pastors Rick Warren and Bill Hybels, Christianity Today editor David Neff, emerging church leader Brian McLaren, Jim Wallis of Sojourners, and Rich Mouw, president of evangelical Fuller Seminary. Notably, Leith Anderson, president of the NAE, and Richard Cizik, the NAE’s chief lobbyist, also signed the letter. 15 Other evangelical leaders, however, voiced strenuous opposition. Al Mohler, president of Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, found no need to apologize for the War on Terror or to confess any sins “against our Muslim neighbors.” It was all quite confounding to him: “For whom are we apologizing and for what are we apologizing?” Dobson’s Citizen magazine criticized the Yale Letter for claiming that the two faiths shared a deity, and for showing weakness and endangering Christians. Apologizing for past violence against Muslims would make Christians in Muslim countries more vulnerable to violence, he reasoned. Focus on the Family urged like-minded critics to register their displeasure with the NAE and included the NAE’s PO box for their convenience. Dobson and other conservative evangelicals pressured the NAE to oust Cizik that year, both for his attempts at Muslim-Christian dialogue and for his activism on global warming. This was easily accomplished the next year, when Cizik came out in support of same-sex civil unions. 16

The first four of the Ten Commandments are intended to form Israel in right relationship with God, or what we call worship. The final six commandments are intended to form Israel in right relationship with one another, or what we call justice. The most ambiguous of the ten commandments is the tenth: “You shall not covet.” What does that mean? What does it mean not to covet? This is where the subtle differences in the three Gospel accounts of the story of Jesus and the rich young ruler help us to understand what is intended by, “You shall not covet.

Jesus’ teaching on hell is basically this: If you refuse to love, you cannot enter the kingdom of God and will end up a lonely tormented soul. If we take Jesus seriously as a teacher, we must never think the gospel is a means by which we can ignore God, scorn the suffering, mock the poor, and have everything turn out alright. If you want to know how to find hell, follow the path set by the rich man and you’ll get there!

was the identity of all non-Christians as “offspring of the devil” that allowed these acts “in memory of Our Redeemer and His twelve Apostles,” not in spite of Christianity, but because of it. Bartolomé, of course, knew that there were other motivations as well: Their reason for killing and destroying such an infinite number of souls is that the Christians have an ultimate aim, which is to acquire gold, and to swell themselves with riches in a very brief time and thus rise to a high estate disproportionate to their merits.

Wireless technology remained the province of the state through most the 1950s, with one emerging exception: wealthy business folk. Top-tier mobile devices might seem expensive now, but they’re not even in the same league as the first private radio-communications systems, which literally cost as much as a house. The rich didn’t use radio to fight crime, of course. They used them to network their chauffeurs, allowing them to coordinate with their personal drivers, and for business.

Angelina, I adore you...," crooned Louis. Then the New Orleans Gang picked up the beat and King Louis sang, "I eat antipasto twice, just because she is so nice, Angelina..." Fresh pasta time. Angelina cracked three eggs into the center of a mound of 00 flour, in time to the music, and began teasing the flour into the sticky center. With a hand-cranked pasta maker, she rolled out the dough into long, silky-thin sheets, laid them out until they covered the entire table, then used a 'mezza luna' to carefully slice wide strips of pasta for a new dish she wanted to try that she called Lasagna Provencal, a combination of Italian and French cheeses, Roma and sun-dried tomatoes, Herbes de Provence, and fresh basil. It was a recipe for which she had very high hopes. Angelina started assembling her lasagna. She mixed creamy Neufchatel, ricotta, and a sharp, grated Parmigiano-Reggiano in with a whole egg to bind it together. She layered fresh pasta sheets in a lasagna dish, coated them with the cheesy mixture, ripped in some fresh basil and oregano and sun-dried tomatoes. She worked quickly, but with iron concentration. "I'm-a just a gigolo, everywhere I go...," sang King Louie. For the second layer, she used more pasta topped with Gruyere and herbed Boursin cheese. The third layer was the same as the first. For the fourth layer, she used the rest of the Boursin and dollops of creme fraiche, then ladled the thick, rich tomato sauce from the stove on top and finished it with a sprinkling of shredded Gruyere. She set it aside for baking later and felt a flush of craftswomanly pride in the way it had all come together.

Tina, who clearly had it in mind to dazzle her new husband in the kitchen, wanted desperately to learn the secrets of Angelina's red gravy. So they picked a Sunday afternoon soon after New Year's and Angelina hauled out her mother's old sausage grinder and stuffer. Gia had volunteered to make the trip to the butcher's shop and brought back good hog casings, a few pounds of beautifully marbled pork butt and shoulder glistening with clean, white fat, and a four-pound beef chuck roast. It wasn't every that the grinder came out for fresh homemade sausages and meatballs, but it wasn't every day that Gia and Angelina teamed up to pass on the Mother Recipe to the next generation. Gia patiently instructed Tina on the proper technique for flushing and preparing the casings, then set them aside while Angelina showed her how to build the sauce: start with white onion, fresh flat-leaf parsley, and deep red, extra-sweet frying peppers; add copious amounts of garlic (chopped not so finely); season with sea salt, crushed red pepper, and freshly ground black pepper; simmer and sweat on a medium flame in good olive oil; generously sprinkle with dried herbs from the garden (palmfuls of oregano, rosemary, and basil); follow with a big dollop of thick, rich tomato paste; cook down some more until all of the ingredients were completely combined; pour in big cans of fresh-packed crushed tomatoes and a cup of red wine (preferably a Sangiovese or a Barolo); reseason, finish with fresh herbs; bring to a high simmer, then down to a low flame; walk away.

He had a satisfying wholeness about him, American good looks like a baseball player's- level shoulders, a pale shock of hair. A good mind and ethical nature: little gave him more pleasure than learning laws and governance- "It shows you the shape of your society." But what drew the deepest sliver of her self toward him, was the weakness in his chin, his slightly disoriented air, like an injury he allowed only Avis to see. Brian was the opposite of her mother. There wasn't a whiff of mystery about him: he was solid, entirely himself. Avis still cooked in those days and she invited him to her minuscule studio. She set a hibachi up on the fire escape and grilled him a marbled, crimson rib-eye, crusty with salt and pepper, its interior brilliant with juices. Some garlicky green beans with pine nuts, rich red wine, mushrooms and onions sautéed in a nut-brown butter. She'd intuited his indifference to chocolate, so dessert was a velvety vanilla bean cake with a toasted almond frosting.

We can always find something to give. The joy of giving does not spring from the availability of dispensable resources. True richness is defined not in how much you have but how much you can give! Meaning, fulfillment and happiness come from making a difference and giving happiness to others.

She decided to start them off with a Sweet Corn Bisque with Crab "Souffle." The pureed texture of this deeply penetrating soup gave it a rich, suede-smooth mouth-feel, and the stack of jumbo lump crabmeat mounded in the center, warm and bound together with a whisper of mayonnaise and coriander, told someone immediately that you were excited they came. The main course would be center-cut Filet Mignon in a Grand Marnier Reduction, with Chestnut Mashed Potatoes and Green Beans Amandine. Romantic encounters had been preceded by bold yet classically inspired meals like this since Casanova's day. She advised Pettibone in no uncertain terms that the steaks needed to be done just to the brink of medium-rare, then finished with butter and allowed to carry-over cook their last five minutes for the best results. Dessert would be a delicate Flan with Sauternes Caramel, a velvety, infused custard that finished with a rapturous, dulcet swirl of caramel on the tongue.

If superstring theory is proven correct, we will be forced to accept that the reality we have known is but a delicate chiffon draped over a thick and richly textured cosmic fabric.

America’s Gilded Age was always rotten at the core. Glittering estates and palaces of commerce for the Vanderbilts and the Carnegies, the squalid tenement and factory floor for the masses. Two entire generations of workers had been sacrificed to that grinder to make the Rockefellers rich. But when the gleaming veneer cracked, the whole system fell apart, and the country lapsed into a stupor like it had never known. The Panic of 1893 was the worst depression the United States had yet endured.

Small data is big data in disguise. The reason we can often make good predictions from a small number of observations—or just a single one—is that our priors are so rich. Whether we know it or not, we appear to carry around in our heads surprisingly accurate priors about movie grosses and running times, poem lengths, and political terms of office, not to mention human life spans. We don’t need to gather them explicitly; we absorb them from the world.

the rich get richer,” and indeed the process of “preferential attachment” is one of the surest ways to produce a power-law distribution. The most popular websites are the most likely to get incoming links; the most followed online celebrities are the ones most likely to gain new fans; the most prestigious firms are the ones most likely to attract new clients; the biggest cities are the ones most likely to draw new residents. In every case, a power-law distribution will result.

One of the most important requirements for success, once you have decided what it is that you want, is the quality of willingness. Successful people are willing to pay the price, whatever it is and for as long as it takes, until they achieve the results they desire. Everyone wants to be successful. Everyone wants to be healthy, happy, thin, and rich. But most people are not willing to pay the price. Occasionally, they may be willing to pay part of the price, but they are not willing to pay the whole price. They always hold back.

Yurl and Valyn were both rich, both nobility, and even the unending rigors of Kettral training hadn’t yet managed to wash the stink of privilege off either of them.

The most important mystery of ancient Egypt was presided over by a priesthood. That mystery concerned the annual inundation of the Nile flood plain. It was this flooding which made Egyptian agriculture, and therefore civilisation, possible. It was the centre of their society in both practical and ritual terms for many centuries; it made ancient Egypt the most stable society the world has ever seen. The Egyptian calendar itself was calculated with reference to the river, and was divided into three seasons, all of them linked to the Nile and the agricultural cycle it determined: Akhet, or the inundation, Peret, the growing season, and Shemu, the harvest. The size of the flood determined the size of the harvest: too little water and there would be famine; too much and there would be catastrophe; just the right amount and the whole country would bloom and prosper. Every detail of Egyptian life was linked to the flood: even the tax system was based on the level of the water, since it was that level which determined how prosperous the farmers were going to be in the subsequent season. The priests performed complicated rituals to divine the nature of that year’s flood and the resulting harvest. The religious elite had at their disposal a rich, emotionally satisfying mythological system; a subtle, complicated language of symbols that drew on that mythology; and a position of unchallenged power at the centre of their extraordinarily stable society, one which remained in an essentially static condition for thousands of years. But the priests were cheating, because they had something else too: they had a nilometer. This was a secret device made to measure and predict the level of flood water. It consisted of a large, permanent measuring station sited on the river, with lines and markers designed to predict the level of the annual flood. The calibrations used the water level to forecast levels of harvest from Hunger up through Suffering through to Happiness, Security and Abundance, to, in a year with too much water, Disaster. Nilometers were a – perhaps the – priestly secret. They were situated in temples where only priests were allowed access; Herodotus, who wrote the first outsider’s account of Egyptian life the fifth century BC, was told of their existence, but wasn’t allowed to see one. As late as 1810, thousands of years after the nilometers had entered use, foreigners were still forbidden access to them. Added to the accurate records of flood patters dating back centuries, the nilometer was an essential tool for control of Egypt. It had to be kept secret by the ruling class and institutions, because it was a central component of their authority. The world is full of priesthoods. The nilometer offers a good paradigm for many kinds of expertise, many varieties of religious and professional mystery. Many of the words for deliberately obfuscating nonsense come from priestly ritual: mumbo jumbo from the Mandinka word maamajomboo, a masked shamanic ceremonial dancer; hocus pocus from hoc est corpus meum in the Latin Mass. On the one hand, the elaborate language and ritual, designed to bamboozle and mystify and intimidate and add value; on the other the calculations that the pros make in private. Practitioners of almost every métier, from plumbers to chefs to nurses to teachers to police, have a gap between the way they talk to each other and they way they talk to their customers or audience. Grayson Perry is very funny on this phenomenon at work in the art world, as he described it in an interview with Brian Eno. ‘As for the language of the art world – “International Art English” – I think obfuscation was part of its purpose, to protect what in fact was probably a fairly simple philosophical point, to keep some sort of mystery around it. There was a fear that if it was made understandable, it wouldn’t seem important.

The goal of flavor creation is to reach the seven-year-old inside the forty-seven-year-old," Brian explains of their instant connection with customers. While other ice cream start-ups in the city- and there have been plenty launches since Ample Hills, including Oddfellows (2013), Morgenstern's (2014), and Ice & Vice (2015), to name a few- have found their success in offbeat flavors like avocado, extra virgin olive oil, red bean, and chorizo caramel, they aren't made in the same spirit of evoking the fun and play of childhood that Brian finds essential. It's a different brand of creativity. Even though it inevitably meant waiting in a long line, I loved being the one to go to Ample Hills to pick up a pint because it also meant sampling the flavors. Each one is sweet and creamy, über-rich, and totally original. They're loaded with so many ingredients you never tire of taste testing them. There's Ooey Gooey Butter Cake, a full-flavor vanilla that's studded with chunks of rich, dense Saint Louis-style cake; The Munchies, a salty-sweet pretzel-infused ice cream chock-full of Ritz crackers, potato chips, M&M's, and more pretzels; Nonna D's Oatmeal Lace is brown-sugar-and-cinnamon ice cream chunked with homemade oatmeal cookies; and their signature flavor, Salted Crack Caramel, which involves caramelizing large amounts of sugar on the stove top until it's nearly burnt, giving it a bitterness that distinguishes their version from all the other salted caramels out there.

It is vitally important to the future of the Imperium that we understand the secret of melange. To date, no one has spent the time or effort to unravel its mysteries. People think of Arrakis as an unending source of riches, and they don’t care about the mechanics or the details. Shallow thinking.

For a thousand years now, the governorship of Arrakis had been an Imperial boon, granted to a chosen family that would wring the riches out of the sands for a term not to exceed a century. Each time the fief changed hands, a firestorm of pleas and requests for favors bombarded the palace.

children from pain and loss and tragedy and illness. You cannot be sure that you will always be married, let alone happily married. You cannot be sure you will always be employed, or healthy, or relatively sane. All you can do is face the world with quiet grace and hope you make a sliver of difference. Humility does not mean self-abnegation, lassitude, detachment; it’s more like a calm recognition that you must trust in that which does not make sense, that which is unreasonable, illogical, silly, ridiculous, crazy by the measure of most of our culture; you must trust that you being a very good you matters somehow. That trying to be an honest and tender parent will echo for centuries through your tribe. That doing your chosen work with creativity and diligence will shiver people far beyond your ken. That being an attentive and generous friend and citizen will somehow matter in the social fabric, save a thread or two from unraveling. And you must do all of this with the sure and certain knowledge that you will never get proper credit for it, at all, one bit, and in fact the vast majority of the things you do right will go utterly unremarked; except, perhaps, in ways we will never know or understand, by the Arab Jew who once shouted about his cloak, and may have been somehow also the One who invented and infuses this universe and probably a million others—not to put a hard number on it or anything. Humility, the final frontier, as my late brother Kevin used to say. When we are young we build a self, a persona, a story in which to reside, or several selves in succession, or several at once, sometimes; when we are older we take on other roles and personas, other masks and duties; and you and I both know men and women who become trapped in the selves they worked so hard to build, so desperately imprisoned that sometimes they smash their lives simply to escape who they no longer wish to be; but finally, I think, if we are lucky, if we read the book of pain and loss with humility, we realize that we are all broken and small and brief, that none among us is actually rich or famous or more beautiful than another; and then, perhaps, we begin to understand something deep and true finally about humility. This is what I know: that the small is huge, that the tiny is vast, that pain is part and parcel of the gift of joy, and that there is love, and then there is everything else. You either walk toward love or away from it with every breath you draw. Humility is the road to love. Humility, maybe, is love. That could be. I wouldn’t know; I am a muddle and a conundrum, shuffling slowly along the road, gaping in wonder, trying to just see and say what is, trying to leave shreds and shards of ego along the road like wisps of litter and chaff.

Books In addition to podcasts, several books have significantly shaped my worldview and perspective as an investor. These are the ones I found most influential and deserving of attention in the real estate and entrepreneurship spaces. Real Estate, Investing, Sales, and Negotiation: • Rich Dad Poor Dad: What the Rich Teach Their Kids About Money That the Poor and Middle Class Do Not!, by Robert T. Kiyosaki • Mastering the Market Cycle: Getting the Odds on Your Side, by Howard Marks • The Due Diligence Handbook For Commercial Real Estate: A Proven System To Save Time, Money, Headaches And Create Value When Buying Commercial Real Estate, by Brian Hennessey • Principles: Life and Work, by Ray Dalio • Pitch Anything: An Innovative Method for Presenting, Persuading, and Winning the Deal, by Oren Klaff • Never Split the Difference: Negotiating as if Your Life Depended on It, by Chris Voss Non-Real Estate: • Double Double: How to Double Your Revenue and Profit in 3 Years or Less, by Cameron Herold • Clockwork: Design Your Business to Run Itself, by Mike Michalowicz • How an Economy Grows and Why It Crashes, by Peter Schiff • Economics in One Lesson: The Smartest and Surest Way to Understand Basic Economics, by Henry Hazlitt • What Has Government Done to Our Money, by Murray M. Rothbard • Own the Day, Own Your Life: Optimized Practices for Waking, Working, Learning, Eating, Training, Playing, Sleeping, and Sex, by Aubrey Marcus • The Charisma Myth: How Anyone Can Master the Art and Science of Personal Magnetism, by Olivia Fox Cabane • Deep Work: Rules for Focused Success in A Distracted World, by Cal Newport

The human capacity to respond with great variety is testament to the core principles that have guided our exploration thus far: the entropic two-step and evolution by natural selection. The entropic two-step explains how orderly clumps can form in a world that is becoming ever more disordered, and how certain of these clumps, stars, can remain stable over billions of years as they produce a steady output of heat and light. Evolution explains how, in a favorable environment such as a planet bathed by a star’s steady warmth, collections of particles can coalesce in patterns that facilitate complex behaviors, from replication and repair, to energy extraction and metabolic processing, to locomotion and growth. Collections that acquire the further capacities to think and learn, to communicate and cooperate, to imagine and predict, are better equipped to survive and hence to produce similar collections with similar capacities. Evolution thus selects for these abilities and, generation upon generation, refines them. In time, some collections conclude that their cognitive powers are so remarkable that they transcend physical law. Some of the most thoughtful of these collections are then bewildered by the conflict between the freedom of will they experience and the unyielding control of physical law they recognize. But the fact is there is no conflict because there is no transcending of physical law. There can’t be. Instead, the collections of particles need to reassess their powers, focusing not on the laws that govern particles themselves but on the high-level, thoroughly complex, and extraordinarily rich behaviors each collection of particles—each individual—can exhibit and experience. And with that reorientation, the particle collections can tell an illuminating story of wondrous behaviors and experiences, suffused with wills that feel free and speak as though they have autonomous control, and yet are fully governed by the laws of physics.

have never yet known a man admit that he was either rich or asleep: perhaps the poor man and the wakeful man have some great moral advantage. How does it arise?

One of the things that I find especially worrisome is the propensity for people to perceive reality as dyadic, comprised of two oppositional elements. Some prominent examples are our assignment of good–evil, right–wrong, just–unjust, heaven–hell, conservative–liberal, rich–poor, us–them. I also refer to this as compartmental minimalism because of our tendency to force our understanding of reality into as few categories as possible. Essentially, by perceiving reality in this way, we intentionally and unintentionally, reduce the cognitive load. We do not want the hassle of too many details or abstractions; however, this convenience comes at a cost that goes unacknowledged. We essentially build a false reality bit-by-bit.

Others he never could persuade; his attempts to do so angered them, producing a flood of vituperation and acrimonious mockery. A witty Italian summed it up in a burlesque interview with Picasso, who is here supposed to be speaking: “In art, the mass of people no longer seek consolation and exaltation … but whatever is new, odd, original, extravagant, or scandalous. I myself, since Cubism and even before, have satisfied these masters and critics with whatever bizarre extravagances passed through my head, and the less they understood the more they admired me. By amusing myself with all these games, rebuses, and arabesques I became famous, famous very quickly. And for a painter fame means selling, making money, making a fortune, growing wealthy. So today, as you know, I am famous and I am rich. But when I am quite alone I have not the courage to think of myself as an artist in the ancient, splendid sense of the word. Giotto and Titian, Rembrandt and Goya, were true painters; I am only a public entertainer who has understood his times and to the utmost of his powers has exploited the silliness, the vanity, and the stupidity of his contemporaries. Mine is a bitter confession, more painful than it may seem; but it has the merit of being sincere.

He was now surrounded by a small circle of his inferiors and dependents; no one could keep him in order, as once Eluard had done; those he respected most were long since dead, and he could let himself go just as he pleased. He was, as he said himself, a man “who could say shit to anyone on earth.” He was enormously rich; and riches expose a man to pride and luxury, and a foolish elation of heart. As for pride, Lucifer could never have held a candle to Picasso at any time, riches or not; but it did occur to me that in his case luxury might, after so many years of discipline, emerge as facility, and the foolish elation of heart as a persuasion that anything he did was worth showing—that his briefest jotting down of a passing thought, in his private shorthand, was a valid communication of real importance. In short, that the rot of self-indulgence might have spread to his art. If that was so then neither his way of life nor even his work could be a satisfaction to him. If servile adulation, intensive coddling, guarding, shielding from every draught, had so reinforced the deep contradictions in his own character that they had turned him bad then obviously there was no question of happiness. It seemed unlikely that that fine head, with habitual kindness, gaiety, and strength carved deep into all its lines and wrinkles could go bad; but it was not impossible—there are innumerable instances of disastrous change pitiably late in life—and the prospect grieved me.

it occurs to me, that our race must have a natural propensity to ugliness. You are not an ill-looking fellow, and were almost handsome before you were so pierced, blown up and banged by the enemy and so exposed to the elements; and you are to marry a truly beautiful young woman; yet I make no doubt you will between you produce little common babies, that mewl, pewl and roar all in that same tedious, deeply vulgar, self-centred monotone, drool, cut their teeth, and grow up into plain blockheads. Generation after generation, and no increase in beauty; none in intelligence. On the analogy of dogs, or even of horses, the rich should stand nine foot high and the poor run about under the table. This does not occur: yet the absence of improvement never stops men desiring the company of beautiful women.

If I read the Bible with the appropriate perspective and humility I don’t use the story of the Rich Man and Lazarus as a proof-text to condemn others to hell. I use it as a reminder that I’m a rich man and Lazarus lies at my door. I don’t use the conquest narratives of Joshua to justify Manifest Destiny. Instead I see myself as a Rahab who needs to welcome newcomers. I don’t fancy myself as Elijah calling down fire from heaven. I’m more like Nebuchadnezzar who needs to humble himself lest I go insane. I have a problem with the Bible, but all is not lost. I just need to read it standing on my head. I need to change my perspective. If I can accept that the Bible is trying to lift up those who are unlike me, then perhaps I can read the Bible right.

turned the majority of their kingdom — the peasants, workers, and slaves — against the wealthy members of society. They encouraged hatred of the rich for their indulgent consumption —all the rich, that is, except for the royal family, whose wealth was needed to rule beneficently. Then they confiscated most of the wealth of these “greedy” rich through excessive taxation, in the name of spreading the wealth around, so that “all would be equal.” But the rich were ruined and could no longer afford to employ the poor commoners in their fields and storehouses. The government then had to confiscate the means of production and place all citizens in their care as wards of the state. So commoners ended up not much different than slaves. They depended upon the government for their daily bread, their shelter, and even their health. The daily survival of the citizens was completely in the hands of Semiramis and Mardon.

Alex heard a stirring in the Hall. Brian had arrived. They cleared a path for him, saluting with mighty cheers as their leader made his way to the stage up front. Alex met him there. Brian looked good. His eyes were alert and alive, soaking in these final sights before the end. Alex could tell there had been no tears. At this deeply emotional moment, Alex felt an urge to hug his friend, or at least shake his hand, but human touch was anathema. He saluted. “I’m glad you made it,” Alex said. “You didn’t think I’d change my mind, did you?” Brian replied. “Of course not. I knew you’d be here. You’re even early.” “I think it’s best to arrive early for one’s execution, don’t you?

[The] church regards religion simply as a form of worship, an empty ceremony, and not a vital principle, requiring active benevolence, justice, love and good will towards humanity.… A worship that can be conducted by persons who refuse to give shelter to the houseless, to give bread to the hungry, clothing to the naked, and who enjoin obedience to a law forbidding these acts of mercy, is a curse, not a blessing to humankind.… The church of this country is not only indifferent to the wrongs of the slave, it actually takes sides with the oppressors.… Many of its most eloquent Divines … have shamelessly given the sanction of religion and the Bible to the whole slave system.… For my part, I would say, welcome infidelity! welcome atheism! welcome anything! in preference to the gospel, as preached by those Divines!… These ministers make religion a cold and flinty-hearted thing, having neither principles of right action, nor bowels of compassion. They strip the love of God of its beauty, and leave the throng of religion a huge, horrible, repulsive form. It is a religion for oppressors, tyrants, man-stealers, and thugs.… [A] religion which favors the rich against the poor; which exalts the proud above the humble; which divides humankind into two classes, tyrants and slaves; which says to the person in chains, stay there; and to the oppressor, oppress on; it is a religion which may be professed and enjoyed by all the robbers and enslavers of humankind.10

Their champion, Goliath of Gath,” said Shammah. Goliath continued his rant, “I DEFY THE RANKS OF ISRAEL THIS DAY! CHOOSE FOR YOURSELVES A CHAMPION TO FIGHT ME! IF HE WINS, THE PHILISTINES WILL BE YOUR SERVANTS. IF I WIN, YOU WILL BE OUR SERVANTS!” Abinadab muttered, “He has taunted us these forty days with the same challenge.” “Forty days?” said David. How had he failed to hear about it, he wondered. “Is there no one to stand up to this blasphemer?” Shammah snickered, “Easy for you to say from the comfort of your palace luxury.” Abinadab threw in, “The man who kills him, the king will laud with tax exemption and great riches.” The next words that came from Abinadab struck David in the chest like an iron rod. “The king has even offered up the hand of one of his daughters to the soul who triumphs over this titan.

The city guard was the first to be taken out,” the messenger wailed. Enoch said, “Where are the Rephaim? Enmeduranki?” The messenger shook his head. “Nowhere to be found.” That did not make sense to Enoch. They would be the first to coordinate action to protect the citizens. He knew the priest-king truly cared for his people and the Rephaim did not tolerate rebellion. “The gates of the city have been locked,” said the messenger. “No one can get out. For some reason, the Nephilim have stayed away from the palace area.” The palace and its riches were always the ultimate goal in these revolutions. “Justice” usually meant theft, plunder, and destruction.

People who are afraid to fail, who are afraid to fall from high to low...will always live in the lows.

Abram, you can take the goods you have confiscated, just give me back the people stolen from me.” “I do not think you understand,” said Abram. “I have lifted my hand to El Shaddai, God Almighty, who is El Elyon, possessor of heaven and earth, that I would not take a thread or sandal strap of anything that is yours, lest you should say that you had made me rich.” Bera’s beady eyes narrowed, “No man is without his price.” Abram said, “I will take nothing but what we have eaten. As for Mamre, Eshcol, and Aner, let them take their shares, for they have been worthy allies.” “Indeed,” said Bera. “And would your Amorite confederation consider a covenant with the Cities of Love, to build a wider alliance of defense?” Abram stared at Bera with disgust. “I would sooner form an alliance with Sheol.” “Well,” said Bera, “I guess you think you have purchased the right to insult me.” Their growing antagonism filled the air with tension. Suddenly, messengers from Mamre’s community entered the tent. They bowed before Abram and Mamre, winded from a speedy ride. “My lords, Arba has attacked our clans.

Ashtart was no upstart strategist. She knew that it was not enough to breed clans of giants. She had to propagate a religious belief system that would drive them to hate their Creator. Her goal was to violate all boundaries of distinction between things, because distinction and separation was the natural order of Elohim’s creation. She had the kings pass laws abolishing all distinctions as oppressive and illegal. There was to be no rich and poor, for all were equal; no male and female for all were human; no human and animal for we were all one chain of being; no moral right and wrong, for all was freedom.

make out two major factions that vied for control of the Sanhedrin council, Sadducees and Pharisees. Sadducees were mostly the rich aristocracy, while the Pharisees had popular support. In the current scenario, the Sadducees seemed to dominate the proceedings with their numbers. Since Pilate was late, the chattering and small talk had evolved into a full-blown debate between the factions. These Jews love to argue, thought Longinus as he observed the group from his seat at the pillared entrance. The Chamber of Hewn Stone was a fairly large, open area in a high-ceilinged room that gave him the impression of loftiness toward heaven, despite the very earthy and emotionally charged argumentation unfolding before him.

Unfortunately, English translations obscure the meaning of the text by painting over the Hebrew names with bastardized generic terms. Thus, Yahweh is translated as “the LORD,” and El Shaddai, as “God Almighty,” which drains them of their rich cultural context and meaning. They further this offensive activity by translating El Elyon as “God Most High,” and Elohim as “God,” and on and on. We have reduced the names of the living God to nameless generic references to a “supreme being.” This de-naming of Yahweh Elohim is more a reflection of the Greek impersonal “Prime Mover” than the Hebrew personal “Named One.

He wants to demand a certain land goes to a certain people, in this case, the Garden to Adam and Eve, and no one else has the right to it. And then he kicks everyone out. What next? Will he claim a land that already has a people residing there as his own, and just wipe the indigenous inhabitants off the face of the earth to make room for ‘his people of choice?’ Will he ultimately claim the whole earth as his own and allow some clan of meek people to inherit it over those strong peoples who built up its richness? What kind of a suzerain does such a thing? I will tell you what kind: A despot and a tyrant.

In mere moments, the armed guards were dead, the nobles were dead, and all of Nimrod’s potential rivals had been purged in a river of blood. In mere moments, Nimrod had consolidated and secured his absolute power through a swift and mighty show of force, sorcery and bloodshed. He breathed a sigh of great accomplishment. Nimrod was indeed potentate of all the land. Semiramis was his queen. But now, he must rally the mob or find himself overrun by a tsunami of humanity awash in fear and panic. He was never one to let a crisis go to waste. He pronounced with an amplified voice of authority, “My people, fear not! My children! You are safe! No more harm will come!” It was amazing. The milling and cries of anxiety stilled. His delivery carried across the hundreds of acres of land as if it were the amplified voice of deity. “I regret what I had to do to the rich and powerful, but it was necessary for your good! This privileged upper class, these fat aristocrats who exploit you for their own benefit will do so no longer!” The crowd began to rumble agreeably.

My brothers, everything that the Maccabean revolt gained for us, the purity, the holiness, the zeal, was lost when the Herods took over the priesthood. The Herodians are the betrayers of our countrymen. They are not even true Jews. They are Edomites, sons of Esau. Pretenders and betrayers. They rob the common Jew and control the majority of the wealth of Israel. They conspire with Rome to keep us enslaved while they sit in their extravagant palaces drinking wine and eating pig. I ask you, do such rulers deserve their riches? Do they deserve to live when so many of us die?

Saul blurted out, “Whose son are you, again?” Saul remembered that he had publicly promised to bestow great riches and honor on the family of the victorious warrior, as well as his daughter in marriage. But David was of such humble origins that Saul never could remember his father’s name. David said, “I am the son of your servant, Jesse, the Bethlehemite.” He was used to Saul’s bad memory, and had often joked with Jonathan about it. Saul said, “And which one is he again? He will be sad to know that you will not be returning to his house. For you, my gibborim, will be the new captain of my bodyguard.” In this moment, everyone knew that Yahweh had performed a miracle. But it was more than a miracle, it was an unveiling. More than a few persons now suspected the true reason for David’s anointing by Samuel; that the messiah of Israel had been revealed. Among them were Jonathan, Saul—and Nimrod. “Send the emissaries to disarm the Philistines,” said Saul. “We have a victory to celebrate.” He placed his hand on David’s shoulder and looked at him with pride. He was elated, and free of his fear and muddled thinking. The dark counselor had temporarily left him again.

rich were able to afford crypts where entire families would be able to “go to sleep with their fathers,” as the saying went. Sleep was the common metaphor used to express their hope that one day Yahweh would return and resurrect the dead for judgment. There was a debate within the Pharisee and Sadducee circles about resurrection. The Pharisees believed it, but the Sadducees did not.

your love to grow and increase beyond measure, bringing you into the rich revelation of spiritual insightj in all things.

[B]ad conscience also appears as a result of incipient priestly influence, beginning in the era when priests are considered, or at least associated with, aristocracy. According to Nietzsche, the priestly valuation ‘branch[es] off from the knightly-aristocratic [manner of valuation] and then develop[s] into its opposite’. Knights (and warriors) prize ‘a powerful physicality, a blossoming, rich, even overflowing health, along with whatever is required for their preservation: war, adventure, hunting, dancing, war games, and in general everything that involves strong, free and cheerful activity’. Priests value other things. They are impotent and thus afraid to act openly for fear of reprisals. Their desire for expression remains undiminished, however, and so gives rise to hatred. This hatred is directed toward those in power, whether primeval barbarian-masters or present-day noble-masters. It results in a posture contrary to everything represented by the masters (aforementioned as knights). For Nietzsche, masters are the picture of Life. They say yes to everything in the world, whether good or bad. The impotent, by contrast, say no to everything in the world, imagining another domain to which to flee for refuge from the perceived suffering of this one. The impotent, for Nietzsche, represent something even more dangerous and profound than death. Theirs is the way (paved by the priest) to nothingness.

You see, the problem is that people, particularly people who write, assume that the meaning of a song is vested in the lyrics. To me, that has never been the case. There are very few songs that I can think of where I even remember the words, actually, let alone think that those are the centre of the meaning. For me, music in itself carries a whole set of messages which are very, very rich and complex, and the words either serve to exclude certain ones of those, or point up certain others that aren’t really in there, or aren’t worth saying, or something.’*

Nobody has ever become rich by working for someone else.