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GREATER POOP: Are you really serious or what? MAL-2: Sometimes I take humor seriously. Sometimes I take seriousness humorously. Either way it is irrelevant.
GP: Maybe you are just crazy. M2: Indeed! But do not reject these teaching as false because I am crazy. The reason that I am crazy is because they are true.
GP: Is Eris true? M2: Everything is true. GP: Even false things? M2: Even false things are true. GP: How can that be? M2: I don't know man, I didn't do it.
GP: Why do you deal with so many negatives? M2: To dissolve them. GP: Will you develop that point? M2: No.
GP: Is there an essential meaning behind POEE? M2: There is a Zen Story about a student who asked a Master to explain the meaning of Buddhism. The Master's reply was "Three pounds of flax." GP: Is that the answer to my question? M2: No, of course not. That is just illustrative. The answer to your question is FIVE TONS OF FLAX!
Translational Control Monograph 30
Edited by John W. B. Hershey, University of California, Davis; Michael B. Mathews, Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory; Nahum Sonenberg, McGill University, Montreal
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It also offers a tender treatment of the Romany people. As a child, the author's mother-in-law once saw a caravan of Gypsy wagons drawn by tired horses through the first snow. A man and his wife and infant stopped for water, which the child ran to get. She begged her mother to let the family stay the night with them. The young Gypsy woman somehow knew that while the child had a good heart, she was often ill, and told her mother, "Tonight is the first snow. It is a time of healing. Let me try to help her."
Having been to many doctors, all of whom were unable to treat the child's strange headaches, her mother cried in joy at the unexpected offer of assistance. The story goes on, "She bathed my temples with the water from the snowflakes.... She sang to me in her calm, deep voice. The song was old, old. I did not know the words, but they were soft and sure and rocked me quietly with their sound." The next morning the girl awoke to the sound of Gypsy bells as the caravan left the town, and ran after them to say goodbye.
Ten years later, another caravan arrived, this time bearing a fortune-teller who predicted that the girl, now married, would some day cry out for a crust of bread, pray to endure one more hour, take every step in pain. Of course, with the revolution and World War II, all this came to pass, and the rest of the story is framed lovingly around the fortune that the Romany woman told.
The vibrant illustrations evoke the quality of Russian folk art. Alyssa A. Lappen