Friday Quotes

Note the plural ....Could not restrict myself to just one quote by Carl Sagan.

But the fact that some geniuses were laughed at does not imply that all who are laughed at are geniuses. They laughed at Columbus, they laughed at Fulton, they laughed at the Wright Brothers. But they also laughed at Bozo the Clown.

A celibate clergy is an especially good idea, because it tends to suppress any hereditary propensity toward fanaticism.

Personally, I would be delighted if there were a life after death, especially if it permitted me to continue to learn about this world and others, if it gave me a chance to discover how history turns out.

It is far better to grasp the universe as it really is than to persist in delusion, however satisfying and reassuring.

Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known.

We are pioneers

After the explosion of the Space Shuttle Challenger in 1986, Ronald Reagan, the then President of the USA, addressed the nation.


A moving speech indeed. A fitting tribute to the pioneers who lost their lives. The speech was predictably filled with positive messages. He addressed not only the families of the astronauts but also the men and women who worked for NASA and said he shared their anguish. More importantly he talked to the children who were probably watching the Challenger explode telling them that the future belongs to the brave.

It was poignant when he said:Nothing ends here - our hopes and our journeys continue.

I wish our political leaders would take a cue from this - address the nation positively when something goes wrong instead of disappearing altogether or playing the blame game.

Friday Quote

Richard Feynman - My Hero

I can live with doubt, and uncertainty, and not knowing. I think it's much more interesting to live not knowing than to have answers which might be wrong. I have approximate answers, and possible beliefs, and different degrees of certainty about different things, but I'm not absolutely sure of anything, and in many things I don't know anything about, such as whether it means anything to ask why we're here, and what the question might mean. I might think about a little, but if I can't figure it out, then I go to something else. But I don't have to know an answer. I don't feel frightened by not knowing things, by being lost in a mysterious universe without having any purpose, which is the way it really is, as far as I can tell, possibly. It doesn't frighten me." —The Pleasure of Finding Things Out: The Best Short Works of Richard P. Feynman

"I know someone who told stories to me"

I had copied the following words from somewhere in one of my old diaries – I used to record my favourite quotes and passages those days.

You may have tangible wealth untold,

Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold,

Richer than I you could never be;

I know someone who told stories to me.

Reading it now, I was intrigued about the author of these lines. I googled it and was even more intrigued. These lines were attributed to Cynthia Pearl Maus. And the same lines with a different ending were attributed to Strickland Gillilan. It ended thus: “ I had a Mother who read to me.”

I do not know who was the real author of the said lines. But I could identify with Cynthia Pearl’s verse as I know someone who told stories to me – My father. He was a good story teller. He would patiently weave stories, bring before our eyes the characters and we would be transported to strange worlds. Tom Sawyer, Gulliver’s travels, Jack and the Beanstalk, Cinderella, Robin Hood, Water Babies, Mahabharat and so many other stories that he made up in a jiffy – I only have to close my eyes and I can see my father recount the stories in measured tones and the children utterly captivated by the mesmerising tales.

I never tired of listening to two stories – Merchant of Venice and A Tale of two cities. Shylock and his bitter speech would be told in glorious detail and though life at that age was seen only in black and white, he tried to describe the shades of grey. I understood the anguish of Shylock much later and could commiserate with him now. As for A Tale of two cities, apart from Sidney Carton and Miss. Manette, Evremonde is somehow etched in my mind. The story of Evremonde running his chariot over a peasant boy, and then throwing a coin to the peasant, the girl with brain fever mumbling all the time, Dr.Manette hunched over making shoes and Sydney Carton facing the guillotine are so vivid in my imagination, as if I had seen the entire novel happen.

Story telling is an art. It calls for patience, imagination, involvement and most of all love for the listener. It is entirely due to him, that I have developed a voracious appetite for books and an unending thirst for knowledge. I am sustained by what I read and learn. My father has thus given me the one most valuable gift – a treasure for which I am thankful to him. So I knew someone who told stories to me and made me richer than I could ever hope to be.

Strange happenings

Have you heard of the Tanzania laughter epidemic?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tanganyika_laughter_epidemic

During 1962 a laughter epidemic started in a school and spread to nearby villages. Several people had laughter attacks which incapacitated them. Schools were closed down because the children were laughing uncontrollably. It died down after about six months.

How strange it must have been, when it lasted?

A Festival to abuse god

I watched a programme on Sun TV the other day about a festival celebrated by the Kurumba tribes in Kerala. The programme was limited to the way it was celebrated and it got me interested. During the festival devotees take a procession to the Bhagawathy temple at Kodungallur singing obscene songs, making lewd gestures and hurling abuses at their god.

I browsed the Internet for details and found many references to it. This paper by M.J.Gentes of the University of Texas dealt in detail the happenings in the festival.http://www.scribd.com/doc/7825315/Scandalising-Devi-at-Kodungallur

The trite saying Truth is stranger than fiction came to my mind. We are so much used to seeing hymns being sung in praise of god by groveling devotees and here are people abusing god with choicest expletives. Still, is there any other place on earth where god is treated with such utter contempt, if only for one day? The author of the said paper compares Greek, Roman and Mesopotamian myths and festivals with our own Kerala festival and draws several parallels and make surmises.

Whatever could have been the origins of the festival, it would definitely have served as a catharsis for the people to rant and rave and take it on the goddess the drudgery of their living. They probably would have gone back de-stressed and invigorated to living more such drudgery.

Friday Quote

We have an appetite for wonder, a poetic appetite, which real science ought to be feeding but which is being hijacked, often for monetary gain, by purveyors of superstition, the paranormal and astrology.

- - Richard Dawkins, Unweaving the Rainbow.