o·pen-mind·ed ( p n-m n d d). adj. Receptive to new and different ideas or the opinions of others.
— Jackson Brown Jr.
|BOY:||“It's HE-RO" (the boy argued)|
|GIRL:||"No" (the girl insisted) "it's HER-O”|
— Milan Kundera
Let me tell you a joke, Rora said.
Mujo wakes up one day, after a long night of drinking, and asks himself what the meaning of life is. He goes to work, but realizes that is not what life is or should be. He decides to read some philosophy and for years studies everything from the old Greeks onward, but can’t find the meaning of life. Maybe it’s the family, he thinks, so he spends time with his wife, Fata, and the kids, but finds no meaning in that and so he leaves them. He thinks, Maybe helping others is the meaning of life, so he goes to medical school, graduates with flying colors, goes to Africa to cure malaria and transplants hearts, but cannot discover the meaning of life. He thinks, maybe it’s the wealth, so he becomes a businessman, starts making money hand over fist, millions of dollars, buys everything there is to buy, but that is not what life is about. Then he turns to poverty and humility and such, so he gives everything away and begs on the streets, but still he cannot see what life is. He thinks maybe it is literature: he writes novel upon novel, but the more he writes the more obscure the meaning of life becomes. He turns to God, lives the life of a dervish, reads and contemplates the Holy Book of Islam - still, nothing. He studies Christianity, then Judaism, then Buddhism, then everything else - no meaning of life there. Finally, he hears about a guru living high up in the mountains somewhere in the East. The guru, they say, knows what the meaning of life is. So Mujo goes east, travels for years, walks roads, climbs the mountain, finds the stairs that lead up to the guru. He ascends the stairs, tens of thousands of them, nearly dies getting up there. At the top, there are millions of pilgrims, he has to wait for months to get to the guru. Eventually it is his turn, he goes to a place under a big tree, and there sits the naked guru, his legs crossed, his eyes closed, meditating, perfectly peaceful - he surely knows the meaning of life, Mujo says: I have dedicated my life to discovering the meaning of life and I have failed, so I have come to ask you humbly, O Master, to divulge the secret to me. The guru opens his eyes, looks at Mujo, and calmly says, My friend, life is a river. Mujo stares at him for a long time, cannot believe what he heard. What’s life again? Mujo asks. Life is a river, the guru says. Mujo nods and says, You turd of turds, you goddamn stupid piece of shit, you motherfucking cocksucking asshole. I have wasted my life and come all this way for you to tell me that life is a fucking river. A river? Are you kidding me? That is the stupidest, emptiest fucking thing I have ever heard. Is that what you spent your life figuring out? And the guru says, What? It is not a river? Are you saying it is not a river?
— Aleksandar Hemon (The Lazarus Project)
— Jarod Kintz
Reblogged from Mooodswings
— Steven Redhead
— Milan Kundera
Reblogged from @KKOOLOOK's TWEETS (EXTENDED REMIX).blog
The Illusion of Choice
In economics and business decision-making, sunk costs are retrospective (past) costs that have already been incurred and cannot be recovered.
If I give someone €100 on Sunday, and he spends €50 on peanuts, he’ll probably regret that purchase on Monday.
In a way, he’ll still think of himself as a guy with €100 — half of which is wasted.
What he really is is a guy with €50, just as he would be if I’d handed him a fifty-euro bill.
A sunk cost from yesterday should not be part of today’s equation. What he should be thinking is this:
“What should I do with my €50?”