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Язык любви

uni — Mon, 27 Jun 2011 22:31:34 GMT

Все люди разные и умение ценить и любить их таких какие они есть - это наверно главное качество настоящего человека. Сколько не говори, а любовь - это особая тема. Язык двух влюблённых понятен только им. Не даром говорят - "Два влюбвленных разговаривают на не понятном для других языке" или "Такие глупости может делать только влюблённый".

Видео о парне и девушке , которые сидят на скамейке... что же там особенного?

Это начало...

uni — Sat, 25 Jun 2011 22:25:58 GMT

1:03 26/06/2011

Uni =

В общем, решил я писать. Про что? - наверно спросите вы, а про жизнь. Надо же гениальные мысли куда-то складывать.

И так «Лиго» закончилось, кто не знает или забыл, это национальный латвийский праздник "солнцестояния", грубо говоря - культурное время провождение на воздухе с "национальным латвийским напитком" и с азиатским блюдом под названием - шашлык.

А разговор вообще не об этом, ну или точнее об этом, но косвенно - ух ну и демагогию я развёл, ну раз начал писать надо писать толково, а то вон критиков целый интернет. Йо, от темы съехал....

Приношу свои извинения, я вообще начинающий, поэтому судим строго и цензуру не соблюдаем!!!!!

Так вот едим мы в Максиму, магазин такой - никакой, но народа там, как в муравейнике и пива все тащат ящиками... И тут я подумал, а кто придумал "Лиго"?

/* --------Путешествие в историю----------- */

{

А кто его знает когда, а тогда когда Русь ещё была крепостная, а Латвии тогда не было, а была Ливония. Пришедшие с Европы крестоносцы удивились языческому латыша подобный народу, который организовывал массовые оргии и пляски вокруг костра в самую короткую ночь в году. Епископ был умным дядькой, чтобы по быстрее завоевать доверие и „respect” народа, объявил день секса - "ЛИГО". Недаром до сих пор многие пары ходят искать таинственный "папоротник".

Так вот, не только Эпископ имел власть, но и помещики были не „дурашками” и им было не выгодно, чтобы народ прохлаждался целую ночь, так поэтому они ввели национальный напиток к празднику "Лиго" - пиво. А в то время пиво производили крестьяне для помещиков. В свою очередь помещики, продавали намного дороже крестьянам - этот великий и безумно популярный напиток. Как уже вы поняли, бизнес уже и в те времена имел не только влияние, но и власть, а так же большие обороты алкоголя приносили не мыслимые богатства.

}

/* --------Прыг назад в будущее----------- */

Все эти прекрасные размышления меня натолкнули на мысль...

Сколько будет стоить, чтобы сделать новый праздник в Латвии. Магазины, а также продуктовые производители получают просто не реальную прибыль на праздниках. Вывод - чем больше праздников, тем больше народ будет покупать -> больше прибыли магазинам и производителям. Что стоить собрать хороший капитал и спонсировать 2-3 ведущие партии, тем самым купив влияние на них. Ведь как говориться в кодексе „Saeima” каждый депутат представляет интересы отдельных групп народа. А сети магазинов и производителей тоже является группой народа Латвийского и имеет право делать пожертвование для партии, в свою очередь партия должна представлять интересы своих избирателей.

Не большое отступление. Мы можем представить, что каждый избиратель своего рода спонсор, ведь он жертвует самое ценное для партии, свой голос, который для них на вес золото, ведь это золото даёт власть.

Представим что сети магазинов и производителей – это помещики, ведь они своего рода и платят мало и работу дают, а потом заставляют у них же задорого покупать. /*Конкуренция в нашей стране – это отдельная тема.*/

Эпископ, как и партия, не имел особого влияния без поддержки помещиков. Всё сводиться к тому, что при наличии средств и цели, можно создать праздник в любой день.

Как ни странно всё стоит на деньгах и даже в наше время, как и пару лет назад были, есть и будут помещики и эпископы, а нам смертным остаётся лишь повиноваться.

Вот и мыслям конец, кто читал – молодец! ;

/* P.S.

Может этой стране надо побольше веселиться?! По моему осенних праздников мало! Что ни будь с пивком отметить да и оргию устроить, чем мы лучшее того языческого народа… Какой бы ты организовал праздник в Латвии?

Источники:

Spoki.lv

Wiki.ru

Saeima.lv

Мама

uni — Fri, 27 May 2011 18:00:43 GMT

Мама - из-за многозначности термина и его различного понимания в социальном, культурном и религиозном контексте сложно найти универсальные определения.

Наверно, это самое родное и близкое, что может быть на свете. Недаром, оскорбить маму считается наивысшем оскорблением для множества людей в различных народах мира.

Видео очень душевное и доброе, спасибо маме за всё!

Креатив by Adam Taylor (Адам Тейлор)

uni — Wed, 18 May 2011 12:17:10 GMT

Здраствуй, мама...

uni — Sat, 19 Feb 2011 20:44:01 GMT

"Пищя" для размышления...

Музыка души

uni — Sun, 28 Nov 2010 21:19:14 GMT

IRON

uni — Tue, 16 Nov 2010 09:19:30 GMT

IRON, from Details Magazine
By Henry Rollins

I believe that the definition of definition is reinvention. To not be like your parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself.
Completely.

When I was young I had no sense of myself. All I was, was a product of all the fear and humiliation I suffered. Fear of my parents. The humiliation of teachers calling me "garbage can" and telling me I'd be mowing lawns for a living. And the very real terror of my fellow students. I was threatened and beaten up for the color of my skin and my size. I was skinny and clumsy, and when others would tease me I didn't run home crying, wondering why. I knew all too well. I was there to be antagonized. In sports I was laughed at. A spaz. I was pretty good at boxing but only because the rage that filled my every waking moment made me wild and unpredictable. I fought with some strange fury. The other boys thought I was crazy.

I hated myself all the time. As stupid at it seems now, I wanted to talk like them, dress like them, carry myself with the ease of knowing that I wasn't going to get pounded in the hallway between classes. Years passed and I learned to keep it all inside. I only talked to a few boys in my grade. Other losers. Some of them are to this day the greatest people I have ever known. Hang out with a guy who has had his head flushed down a toilet a few times, treat him with respect, and you'll find a faithful friend forever. But even with friends, school sucked. Teachers gave me hard time. I didn't think much of them either.

Then came Mr. Pepperman, my advisor. He was a powerfully built Vietnam veteran, and he was scary. No one ever talked out of turn in his class. Once one kid did and Mr. P. lifted him off the ground and pinned him to the blackboard. Mr. P. could see that I was in bad shape, and one Friday in October he asked me if I had ever worked out with weights. I told him no. He told me that I was going to take some of the money that I had saved and buy a hundred-pound set of weights at Sears. As I left his office, I started to think of things I would say to him on Monday when he asked about the weights that I was not going to buy. Still, it made me feel special. My father never really got that close to caring. On Saturday I bought the weights, but I couldn't even drag them to my mom's car. An attendant laughed at me as he put them on a dolly.

Monday came and I was called into Mr. P.'s office after school. He said that he was going to show me how to work out. He was going to put me on a program and start hitting me in the solar plexus in the hallway when I wasn't looking. When I could take the punch we would
know that we were getting somewhere. At no time was I to look at myself in the mirror or tell anyone at school what I was doing.
In the gym he showed me ten basic exercises. I paid more attention than I ever did in any of my classes. I didn't want to blow it. I went home that night and started right in.

Weeks passed, and every once in a while Mr. P. would give me a shot and drop me in the hallway, sending my books flying. The other students didn't know what to think. More weeks passed, and I was steadily adding new weights to the bar. I could sense the power inside my body growing. I could feel it.

Right before Christmas break I was walking to class, and from out of nowhere Mr. Pepperman appeared and gave me a shot in the chest. I laughed and kept going. He said I could look at myself now. I got home and ran to the bathroom and pulled off my shirt. I saw a body, not just the shell that housed my stomach and my heart. My biceps bulged. My chest had definition. I felt strong. It was the first time I can remember having a sense of myself. I had done something and no one could ever take it away. You couldn't say mess to me.

It took me years to fully appreciate the value of the lessons I have
learned from the Iron. I used to think that it was my adversary, that I was trying to lift that which does not want to be lifted. I was
wrong.
When the Iron doesn't want to come off the mat, it's the kindest thing it can do for you. If it flew up and went through the ceiling, it wouldn't teach you anything. That's the way the Iron talks to you. It tells you that the material you work with is that which you will come to resemble. That which you work against will always work against you.

It wasn't until my late twenties that I learned that by working out I had given myself a great gift. I learned that nothing good comes without work and a certain amount of pain. When I finish a set that leaves me shaking, I know more about myself. When something gets bad, I know it can't be as bad as that workout.

I used to fight the pain, but recently this became clear to me: pain is not my enemy; it is my call to greatness. But when dealing with the Iron, one must be careful to interpret the pain correctly. Most injuries involving the Iron come from ego. I once spent a few weeks lifting weight that my body wasn't ready for and spent a few months not picking up anything heavier than a fork. Try to lift what you're not prepared to and the Iron will teach you a little lesson in restraint and self-control.

I have never met a truly strong person who didn't have self-respect. I think a lot of inwardly and outwardly directed contempt passes itself off as self-respect: the idea of raising yourself by stepping on someone's shoulders instead of doing it yourself. When I see guys working out for cosmetic reasons, I see vanity exposing them in the worst way, as cartoon characters, billboards for imbalance and insecurity. Strength reveals itself through character. It is the difference between bouncers who get off strong-arming people and Mr.Pepperman.

Muscle mass does not always equal strength. Strength is kindness and sensitivity. Strength is understanding that your power is both physical and emotional. That it comes from the body and the mind. And the heart.

Yukio Mishima said that he could not entertain the idea of romance if he was not strong. Romance is such a strong and overwhelming passion, a weakened body cannot sustain it for long. I have some of my most romantic thoughts when I am with the Iron. Once I was in love with a woman. I thought about her the most when the pain from a workout was racing through my body.

Everything in me wanted her. So much so that sex was only a fraction of my total desire. It was the single most intense love I have ever felt, but she lived far away and I didn't see her very often. Working out was a healthy way of dealing with the loneliness. To this day, when I work out I usually listen to ballads.

I prefer to work out alone. It enables me to concentrate on the lessons that the Iron has for me. Learning about what you're made of is always time well spent, and I have found no better teacher. The Iron had taught me how to live. Life is capable of driving you out of your mind. The way it all comes down these days, it's some kind of miracle if you're not insane. People have become separated from their bodies. They are no longer whole.

I see them move from their offices to their cars and on to their suburban homes. They stress out constantly, they lose sleep, they eat badly. And they behave badly. Their egos run wild; they become motivated by that which will eventually give them a massive stroke. They need the Iron Mind.

Through the years, I have combined meditation, action, and the Iron into a single strength. I believe that when the body is strong, the mind thinks strong thoughts. Time spent away from the Iron makes my mind degenerate. I wallow in a thick depression. My body shuts down my mind.

The Iron is the best antidepressant I have ever found. There is no better way to fight weakness than with strength. Once the mind and body have been awakened to their true potential, it's impossible to turn back.

The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all kinds of talk, get told that you're a god or a total bastard. The Iron will always kick you the real deal. The Iron is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in the pitch black. I have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go. But two hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds.

Источник: Андрюха.

Дюйм за дюймом, игра за игрой

uni — Tue, 09 Nov 2010 19:26:45 GMT

I don’t know what to say, really. Three minutes till the biggest battle of our professional lives all comes down to today. Now either we heal as a team or we’re gonna crumble, inch by inch, play by play, ’til we’re finished.

We’re in hell right now, gentlemen, believe me. And, we can stay here — get the shit kicked out of us — or we can fight our way back into the light. We can climb outta hell one inch at a time.

Now, I can’t do it for you. I’m too old. I look around. I see these young faces, and I think — I mean — I made every wrong choice a middle-aged man can make. I, uh, I pissed away all my money, believe it or not. I chased off anyone who’s ever loved me. And lately, I can’t even stand the face I see in the mirror.

You know, when you get old in life things get taken from you. I mean that’s…part of life. But, you only learn that when you start losing stuff. You find out life’s this game of inches. So is football. Because in either game, life or football, the margin for error is so small — I mean one-half a step too late, or too early, and you don’t quite make it. One-half second too slow, too fast, you don’t quite catch it.

The inches we need are everywhere around us.

They’re in every break of the game, every minute, every second.

On this team, we fight for that inch. On this team, we tear ourselves and everyone else around us to pieces for that inch. We claw with our fingernails for that inch, because we know when we add up all those inches that’s gonna make the fuckin’ difference between winning and losing! Between livin’ and dyin’!

I’ll tell you this: In any fight, it’s the guy who’s willing to die who’s gonna win that inch. And I know if I’m gonna have any life anymore, it’s because I’m still willin’ to fight and die for that inch. Because that’s what livin’ is! The six inches in front of your face!!

Now I can’t make you do it. You got to look at the guy next to you. Look into his eyes! Now I think you’re gonna see a guy who will go that inch with you. You’re gonna see a guy who will sacrifice himself for this team because he knows, when it comes down to it, you’re gonna do the same for him!

That’s a team, gentleman!

And, either we heal, now, as a team, or we will die as individuals.

That’s football guys.

That’s all it is.

Now, what are you gonna do?

Источник - http://digital-marketeer.com/

Нет ног, нет рук - нет проблем!

uni — Sun, 07 Nov 2010 19:12:40 GMT

В последние время многие жалуются на свою жизнь, доказательство тому "блогеры" на PTV.LV. Люди которые здоровы и имеют уйма возможностей изменить свою жизнь в лучшую сторону, не осознают, что всё что им надо для счастья Бог уже им дал.

Лучший пример тому, как надо бороться за свою жизнь, а также использовать все шансы, которые предоставляет нам судьба, является Nick Vujicic's. Я думаю, довольно слов брошенных на ветер, лучше один раз увидеть, чем сто раз услышать...

Всё ещё есть душа

uni — Fri, 15 Oct 2010 18:36:26 GMT

Наши пути разные и это не ново. Я всегда восхищался целеустремлёнными людьми, которые ставили свои мечты при выше всего. Интересно, каково это, верить всей душой в свою мечту и через терние подниматься к звёздам.