Melancholy

Eastern Wisdom

 zenhabits
breathe.

The Two-Headed Beast of Successful Habit Change
by guest
2 Feb 2012 at 9:20am
Editor’s Note: This is a guest post from Tyler Tervooren of Advanced Riskology. I used to have a lot of bad habits. I still do, but I used to have a lot more. Here?s just a small sampling: I woke up late and went to bed early. I procrastinated on my most important work. I [...]
Create the Habit of Meditation, & the Zen Habits Premium Membership
by Leo
31 Jan 2012 at 3:03pm
Post written by Leo Babauta. It’s something I should have created a long time ago: the Zen Habits Premium Membership, and a mini-course that’s included with it called Create the Habit of Meditation. The membership is a monthly subscription of $19.99, but really it’s a commitment to changing your life, and the tools needed to [...]
Creating Silence from Chaos
by Leo
27 Jan 2012 at 3:20pm
Post written by Leo Babauta. We are often afraid of silence, because its emptiness feels idle, boring, unproductive, and scary. And so we fill our lives with chaos, noise, clutter. But silence can be lovely, and therapeutic, and powerful. It can be the remedy for our stress and the habits that crush us. If we [...]
The Habits That Crush Us
by Leo
23 Jan 2012 at 11:26am
‘Don’t panic.’ ~Douglas Adams Post written by Leo Babauta. Why is it that we cannot break the bad habits that stand in our way, crushing our desires to live a healthy life, be fit, simplify, be happier? How is it that our best intentions are nearly always beaten? We want to be focused and productive, [...]
Learning to Sit Alone, in a Quiet Empty Room
by Leo
17 Jan 2012 at 1:49pm
‘All men’s miseries derive from not being able to sit in a quiet room alone.’ ~Blaise Pascal Post written by Leo Babauta. Think about some of the problems of our daily lives, and how many of them would be eased if we could learn to sit alone, in a quiet empty room, with contentment. If [...]
Life as a Conscious Practice
by Leo
13 Jan 2012 at 9:15am
‘Everything is practice.’ ~Pele Post written by Leo Babauta. When we learn a martial art, or ballet, or gymnastics, or soccer ? we consciously practice movements in a deliberate way, repeatedly. By conscious, repeated practice, we become good at those movements. Our entire lives are like this, but we’re often less conscious of the practice. [...]
Your Top 10 Clutter Questions, Answered
by Leo
11 Jan 2012 at 11:33am
Post written by Leo Babauta. Decluttering is a skill that you learn with practice, just like any skill. And just like other skills, there are many little questions and problems you need answered and solved as you get started. Those of you taking the Clutterfat Challenge this month are facing these problems, and I’m here [...]
Clearing Your Life for a New Year
by Leo
9 Jan 2012 at 12:55pm
Post written by Leo Babauta. Every January, people rush out and get a gym membership, set a list of goals or resolutions, and get ready to take on a new year of frenetic activity. Unfortunately, we don’t often clear space to make room for all this new stuff. The beginning of the year is a [...]
How to Tackle Your Clutter
by Leo
6 Jan 2012 at 12:19pm
Post written by Leo Babauta. So you’ve been putting off tackling your clutter for months, maybe even years. Papers pile up on a counter, shelves are crammed full of books and magazines and other things, closets are stuffed to the point of spillage, clothes pile up on the floor or furniture, boxes and furniture and [...]
How to Have the Best Year of Your Life (without Setting a Single Goal)
by guest
5 Jan 2012 at 9:15am
Editor’s note: This is a guest post from Jeff Goins of Goins, Writer. This new year, do something different: stop setting goals. If the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results, then making resolutions for another year is a sure-fire way to drive yourself crazy. I did [...]


Melancholy

Here is your Sunday STORY on: THE LOVE OF WISDOM: Frequently things happen in our life that we have little control over, yet must learn to adapt to change. There is little that is anything more certain than change. It will happen every day. In our love of wisdom it would seem appropriate to grasp certain eventualities, come to terms with them and be prepared for their effect. Sometimes we are dealt with a bad hand and expected to come out on top. We need to practice being positive and turning an initial negative situation into something more optimistic. Today's story has a little of this thread of positive ness amongst its plot, but the miracle we witness from the effort is not financial but the emotion of needing to help; when those more fortunate see a NEED, and see an individual trying to overcome a battle, generosity will often spill from their soul. SIX HUNGRY BABIES In September 1960 I woke up one morning with six hungry babies and just 75 cents in my pocket. Their father was gone. The boys ranged from three months to seven years; their sister was two. Their Dad had never been much more than a presence they feared. Whenever they heard his tires crunch on the gravel driveway they would scramble to hide under their beds. He did manage to leave $15 a week to buy groceries. Now that he had decided to leave, there would be no more beatings, but no food either. If there was a welfare system in effect in southern Indiana at that time, I certainly knew nothing about it. I scrubbed the kids until they looked brand new and then put on my best homemade dress. I loaded them into the rusty old 51 Chevy and drove off to find a job. The seven of us went to every factory, store, and restaurant in our small town. No luck. The kids stayed crammed into the car and tried to be quiet while I tried to convince whoever would listen that I was willing to learn or do anything. I had to have a job. Still no luck. The last place we went to, just a few miles out of town, was an old Root Beer Barrel drive-in that had been converted to a truck stop. It was called the Big Wheel. An old lady named Granny owned the place and she peeked out of the window from time to time at all those kids. She needed someone on the graveyard shift; 11 at night until seven in the morning. She paid 65 cents an hour, and I could start that night. I raced home and called the teenager down the street that baby-sat for people. I bargained with her to come and sleep on my sofa for a dollar a night. She could arrive with her pyjamas on and the kids would already be asleep. This seemed like a good arrangement to her, so we made a deal. That night when the little ones and I knelt to say our prayers, we all thanked God for finding Mommy a job. And so I started at the Big Wheel. When I got home in the mornings I woke the baby-sitter up and sent her home with one dollar of my tip money -- fully half of what I averaged every night. As the weeks went by, heating bills added a strain to my meagre wage. The tires on the old Chevy had the consistency of penny balloons and began to leak. I had to fill them with air on the way to work and again every morning before I could go home. One bleak fall morning, I dragged myself to the car to go home and found four tires in the back seat. New tires. There was no note, no nothing, just those beautiful brand new tires. Had angels taken up residence in Indiana? I wondered. I made a deal with the owner of the local service station. In exchange for his mounting the new tires, I would clean up his office. I remember it took me a lot longer to scrub his floor than it did for him to do the tires. I was now working six nights instead of five, and it still wasn't enough. Christmas was coming, and I knew there would be no money for toys for the kids. I found a can of red paint and started repairing and painting some old toys. Then I hid them in the basement so there would be something for Santa to deliver on Christmas morning. Clothes were a worry too. I was sewing patches on top of patches on the boys pants, and soon they would be too far gone to repair. On Christmas Eve the usual customers were drinking coffee in the Big Wheel. These were the truckers, Les, Frank, and Jim, and a state trooper named Joe. A few musicians were hanging around after a gig at the Legion and were dropping nickels in the pinball machine. The regulars all just sat around and talked through the wee hours of the morning and then left to get home before the sun came up. When it was time for me to go home at seven o'clock on Christmas morning I hurried to the car. I was hoping the kids wouldn't wake up before I managed to get home and get the presents from the basement and place them under the tree. (We had cut down a small cedar tree by the side of the road down by the dump.) It was still dark and I couldn't see much, but there appeared to be some dark shadows in the car -- or was that just a trick of the night? Something certainly looked different, but it was hard to tell what. When I reached the car I peered warily into one of the side windows. Then my jaw dropped in amazement. My old battered Chevy was filled full to the top with boxes of all shapes and sizes. I quickly opened the driver's side door, scrambled inside and kneeled in the front facing the back seat. Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of the top box. Inside was whole case of little blue jeans, sizes 2-10! I looked inside another box: It was full of shirts to go with the jeans. Then I peeked inside some of the other boxes: There was candy, nuts, bananas, and bags of groceries. There was an enormous ham for baking, and canned vegetables and potatoes. There was pudding and Jell-O and cookies, pie filling and flour. There was a whole bag of laundry supplies and cleaning items, and there were five toy trucks and one beautiful little doll. As I drove back through empty streets as the sun slowly rose on the most amazing Christmas Day of my life, I was sobbing with gratitude. And I will never forget the joy on the faces of my little ones that precious morning. Yes, there were angels in Indiana that long-ago December . . . . and they all hung out at the Big Wheel truck stop. (Unknown Author) QUOTE: "A strong positive mental attitude will create more miracles than any wonder drug.' (Patricia Neal)


Good romance/supernatural/mystery animes?
I'm trying to find an anime I can watch, and it doesn't exactly have to be popular, just kind of well know to people like Ouran High School Host Club and The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya. I was thinking about watching Fruits Basket but the plot makes it sound weird. List of animes I've watched: Sailor Moon Vampire Knight Ouran High School Host Club (Best anime <3) He is my Master The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya Death Note Umineko no Naku Koro ni Higurashi Kuroshitsuji

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In the poem "Casey at the Bat" why did the poet have Casey strike out?
The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day: The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play, And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same, A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game. A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest Clung to the hope which springs eternal in the human breast; They thought, "If only Casey could but get a whack at that? We'd put up even money now, with Casey at the bat." But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake, And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake; So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat, For there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat. But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all, And Blake, the much despisèd, tore the cover off the ball; And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred, There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third. Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell; It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell; It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat, For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat. There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place; There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile lit Casey's face. And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat, No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat. Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt; Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt; Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip, Defiance flashed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip. And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air, And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there. Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped? "That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one!" the umpire said. From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar, Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore; "Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand; And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand. With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone; He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on; He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew; But Casey still ignored it and the umpire said, "Strike two!" "Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered "Fraud!" But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed. They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain, And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again. The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate, He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate; And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go, And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow. Oh, somewhere in this favoured land the sun is shining bright, The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light; And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout, But there is no joy in Mudville?mighty Casey has struck out.

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In the poem "Casey at the Bat" does Casey seem true to life? Why or why not?
The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day: The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play, And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same, A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game. A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest Clung to the hope which springs eternal in the human breast; They thought, "If only Casey could but get a whack at that? We'd put up even money now, with Casey at the bat." But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake, And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake; So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat, For there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat. But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all, And Blake, the much despisèd, tore the cover off the ball; And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred, There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third. Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell; It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell; It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat, For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat. There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place; There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile lit Casey's face. And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat, No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat. Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt; Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt; Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip, Defiance flashed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip. And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air, And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there. Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped? "That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one!" the umpire said. From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar, Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore; "Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand; And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand. With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone; He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on; He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew; But Casey still ignored it and the umpire said, "Strike two!" "Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered "Fraud!" But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed. They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain, And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again. The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate, He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate; And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go, And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow. Oh, somewhere in this favoured land the sun is shining bright, The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light; And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout, But there is no joy in Mudville?mighty Casey has struck out.

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Iced Earth-Melancholy

5 Sep 2008 at 4:02pm


melancholy iced earth

30 Apr 2006 at 5:12am


Melancholy - Sad piano/violin music

7 May 2009 at 1:39am



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Melancholy News


'How I got sucked into a cult'

5 Feb 2012 at 1:26am  Nick Skinner, husband of Savannah Miller, talks for the first time about life inside a Costa Rican cult. By Lynne Wallis.

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How not to measure temperature for climate change.

5 Feb 2012 at 12:05am  We are often told about the climate stations all over the world that measure temperature that is then put in all those climate models that the desk scientists use to shout from the rooftop for all . . .

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Threes company, not an NFL crowd

5 Feb 2012 at 12:05am  INDIANAPOLISNo one would have guessed while the NFL labor war raged last spring that the three of them would be so happy to see each other again.

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ECB to bide its time on rates this week: analysts

4 Feb 2012 at 11:55pm  The European Central Bank, after two rate cuts and a series of unprecedented liquidity measures, will hold its fire this month, as it assesses the impact of those previous measures, analysts say.

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Tenn. Martin loses 65-58 to No. 10 Murray St.

4 Feb 2012 at 9:44pm  TERESA M. WALKER AP Sports Writer MARTIN, Tenn. Tennessee Martin coach Jason James can find plenty to be happy about even though his Skyhawks came up short yet again. They held 10th-ranked Murray State to a season-low in shooting percentage beyond the arc, played hard throughout and stayed close in losing their 13th straight 65-58 Saturday night. "We didn't let them blow us out," James said. "We ...

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Making the World Go Round: What You Must Know About Success and How Business ...

4 Feb 2012 at 8:28am  Success always results from unpredictable ?happy accidents.? The secret to success is becoming happy accident prone, and these 6 steps will teach you how to do just that.

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Rowan happy to be in the spotlight

4 Feb 2012 at 1:31am  Standing in a dense crowd of students and faculty in the lobby of Rowan University's Wilson Hall on Friday, marketing professor Berhe Habte-Giorgis was ecstatic.

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Face to faith: In a modern, tolerant society like ours there is no place for ...

3 Feb 2012 at 3:30pm  In a liberal and tolerant society like ours there is no place for the divisive tribalism of the football terraces People talk about sport as a religion. But what would it be like to talk about sport the way that the enemies of religion talk about faith? Something like this? The tragic events in Port Said on Wednesday, where 74 people were killed and hundreds more injured following a football ...

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Baratunde Thurston Explains 'How To Be Black'

1 Feb 2012 at 9:52am  From the comedian and digital director of The Onion , a satirical self-help book for anyone who has a black friend, wants to be the next black president or speak for the black community.

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How to Be Happy at Work

30 Jan 2012 at 6:22am  If you're unhappy at work--or anywhere else, for that matter--it's because you've made yourself unhappy. There's an easy way to change that. Let me start off with a little story. I once knew a saleswoman?young, divorced?who got a diagnosis of breast cancer. She had to work and raise two kids while fighting the cancer. Even so, she managed to be happy at work, noticeably happier than her co ...

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