Alone in the Passage of Time

Superstition & Luck

· Do you think that there is truth behind superstitions?
· Is the belief in superstitions because belief in religion is dying?
· Do you think that some people can predict the future?
· How do people predict the future in Iran / foreign countries?
· Why do some people need fortunetellers?
· Do you believe in horoscopes?
· What is luck? Does it really exist?
· Do you believe in luck?
· What do we mean to be lucky or unlucky?
· Is there any logic behind the word "lucky"?
· Are there really any lucky / unlucky people?
· How do you decide who is lucky / unlucky?
· What are some superstitions in your country?
· What are some things that are considered lucky / unlucky?
· Do you think that some people can predict the future?
· How do people predict the future in your country?
· Why do some people need fortunetellers?
· Do you believe in horoscopes?

72 Superstitions

The Broken Mirror, The Black Cat

And Lots of Good Luck

Nikos was an ordinary man. Nothing particularly good ever happened to him, nothing particularly bad ever happened to him. He went through life accepting the mixture of good things and bad things that happen to everyone. He never looked for any explanation or reason about why things happened just the way they did.

One thing, however, that Nikos absolutely did not believe in was superstition. He had no time for superstition, no time at all. Nikos thought himself to be a very rational man, a man who did not believe that his good luck or bad luck was in any way changed by black cats, walking under ladders, spilling salt or opening umbrellas inside the house.

Nikos spent much of his time in the small taverna near where he lived. In the taverna he sat drinking coffee and talking to his friends. Sometimes his friends played dice or cards. Sometimes they played for money. Some of them made bets on horse races or football matches. But Nikos never did. He didn’t know much about sport, so he didn’t think he could predict the winners. And he absolutely didn’t believe in chance or luck or superstition, like a lot of his friends did.

One morning Nikos woke up and walked into the bathroom. He started to shave, as he did every morning, but as he was shaving he noticed that the mirror on the bathroom wall wasn’t quite straight. He tried to move it to one side, to make it straighter, but as soon as he touched it, the mirror fell off the wall and hit the floor with a huge crash. It broke into a thousand pieces. Nikos knew that some people thought this was unlucky. “Seven years bad luck” they said, when a mirror broke. But Nikos wasn’t superstitious. Nikos wasn’t superstitious at all. He didn’t care. He thought superstition was nonsense. He picked up the pieces of the mirror, put them in the bin, and finished shaving without a mirror.

After that he went into the kitchen to make himself a sandwich to take to work for his lunch. He cut two pieces of bread and put some cheese on them. Then he thought he needed some salt. When he picked up the salt jar, it fell from his hand and broke on the floor. Salt was everywhere. Some people, he knew, thought that this was also supposed to bring bad luck. But Nikos didn’t care. He didn’t believe in superstitions.

He left the house and went to work. On his way to work he saw a black cat running away from him. He didn’t care. He wasn’t superstitious. Some builders were working on a house on his street. There was a ladder across the pavement. Nikos thought about walking around the ladder, but he didn’t care, he wasn’t superstitious and didn’t believe in superstitions, so he walked right underneath the ladder.

Even though Nikos wasn’t superstitious, he thought that something bad was certain to happen to him today. He had broken a mirror, spilled some salt, walked under a ladder and seen a black cat running away from him. He told everybody at worked what had happened. “Something bad will happen to you today!” they all said. But nothing bad happened to him.

That evening, as usual, he went to the taverna. He told all his friends in the taverna that he had broken a mirror, spilled the salt, seen a black cat running away from him and then walked under a ladder. All his friends in the taverna moved away from him. “Something bad will happen to him”, they all said, “and we don’t want to be near him when it happens!”.

But nothing bad happened to Nikos all evening. He sat there, as normal, and everything was normal. Nikos was waiting for something bad to happen to him. But it didn’t.

“Nikos, come and play cards with us!” joked one of his friends. “I’m sure to win!” Nikos didn’t usually play cards, but tonight he decided to. His friend put a large amount of money on the table. His friend thought Nikos was going to lose. Nikos thought he was going to lose. But it didn’t happen like that.

Nikos won. Then he played another game, and he won that one too. Then somebody asked him to play a game of dice, and Nikos won that as well. He won quite a lot of money. “Go on then Nikos” his friends shouted, “Use all the money you have won to buy some lottery tickets!” Nikos spent all the money he had won on lottery tickets. The draw for the lottery was the next day.

The next day after work Nikos went to the tavern again. Everybody was watching the draw for the lottery on TV. The first number came out, for the third prize. It was Nikos’ number. Then the second number, for the second prize. It was another of Nikos’ tickets. Then the first prize. It was Nikos’ number as well. He won all three of the big lottery prizes.

It was incredible. It seemed that all the things that people thought caused bad luck actually brought him good luck.

The next day Nikos bought a book about superstitions from all over the world. When he had read the book he decided to do everything that would bring him bad luck. He left empty bottles on the table. He asked his wife to cut his hair for him. He accepted a box of knives as a gift. He slept with his feet pointing towards the door. He sat on the corners of tables. He put a candle in front of the mirror. He always left his hat on the bed. He always left his wallet on the bed. He bought things in numbers of six, or thirteen. He crossed people on the stairs. He got on a boat and whistled. And with everything he did, he got luckier and luckier. He won the lottery again. He won the games of dice in the taverna every evening. The things got crazier and crazier. He bought a black cat as a pet. He broke a few more mirrors, on purpose. He didn’t look people in the eye when they raised their glasses to him. He put loaves of bread upside down on the table. He spilled salt. He spilled olive oil. He spilled wine.

The more superstitious things he did, the luckier he became. He went in to the taverna and started to tell all his friends what he thought.

“You see!” he told them. “I was right all along! Superstition is nonsense! The more things I do to break ridiculous superstitions, the more lucky I am!”

“But Nikos” replied one of his friends, “Don’t you see that you are actually as superstitious as we are? You are so careful to break superstitions, and this brings you luck. But you are only lucky when you do these things. Your disbelief is actually a kind of belief!”

Nikos thought hard about what his friend said. He had to admit that it was true. He was so careful to break all the superstitions he could, that in some way he was actually observing those superstitions.

The next day, he stopped spilling salt, chasing away black cats, walking under ladders, putting up umbrellas in the house and breaking mirrors. He also stopped winning money on the lottery. He started to lose at games of cards or dice.

He was a normal man again. Sometimes he was lucky, sometimes he wasn’t. He didn’t not believe in superstitions any more, but he didn’t believe in them either.

“Nikos”, said his friend to him, “It was your belief in yourself that made you lucky. It was your self-confidence that helped you, not superstitions.”

Nikos listened to his friend and thought that he was right. But, however rational he still believed himself to be, he always wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t broken that mirror...

Days Like This

We all have days we'll never forget.
We want to hear about yours.

*

Days Like This is an exciting project run by Scottish Book Trust in partnership with BBC Radio Scotland. To take part, all you need to do is write about a day in your life that was a bit extraordinary.

Over 800 stories were sent by the deadline of 1 November - these stories are being reviewed by celebrity curators, with the best ones featuring in a series of broadcast on BBC Radio Scotland and in a book. However, you can still send a story - it will appear alongside the others on that website.

Check this out ...!

http://www.scottishbooktrust.com/days-like-this-story-index

Rebirth

Sculpture title "Rebirth" by Omar Galan

on Genova Street in the "Zona Rosa" in Mexico City

The Haunting

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The Haunting

Eleanor Lance is called to meet at Hill House for Dr. Marrow's sleeping disorder studies, along with three other people. The owners of the house tell them that no one will be around and that they won't be able to hear them. The first night they all sit around and talk. Eleanor tells them that her sleeping disorder is different because she can sleep it is just that she wakes up because she thinks her dead mom is still living with her. Well that isn't the case now because she is woken one night in the Hill House bedroom by talking childrens voices asking her for her help. At first scared by the voice, she learns to avoid them. Later, the group finds out that Dr. Marrow is not using them for sleeping disorders but a test in fear. The fear is first thought to be fake but eventually turns real when loud noises are heard and objects start to move. Now they must try an escape the house before they are all killed.

The Others

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The Others

Dear Students,

Before you read A Diagnosis of Death, I recommend that you do vocabulary exercises which practise some of the difficult words in the text. If you wish, you can read more about Ambrose Bierce at Wikipedia.

Click for a larger image

A Diagnosis of Death

Ambrose Bierce

'I am not so superstitious as some of your physicians - men of science, as you are pleased to be called,' said Hawver, replying to an accusation that had not been made. 'Some of you - only a few, I confess - believe in the immortality of the soul, and in apparitions which you have not the honesty to call ghosts. I go no further than a conviction that the living are sometimes seen where they are not, but have been - where they have lived so long, perhaps so intensely, as to have left their impress on everything about them. I know, indeed, that one's environment may be so affected by one's personality as to yield, long afterward, an image of one's self to the eyes of another. Doubtless the impressing personality has to be the right kind of personality as the perceiving eyes have to be the right kind of eyes - mine, for example.'

'Yes, the right kind of eyes, conveying sensations to the wrong kind of brains,' said Dr. Frayley, smiling.
'Thank you; one likes to have an expectation gratified; that is about the reply that I supposed you would have the civility to make.'
'Pardon me. But you say that you know. That is a good deal to say, don't you think? Perhaps you will not mind the trouble of saying how you learned.'
'You will call it an hallucination,' Hawver said, 'but that does not matter.' And he told the story.

'Last summer I went, as you know, to pass the hot weather term in the town of Meridian. The relative at whose house I had intended to stay was ill, so I sought other quarters. After some difficulty I succeeded in renting a vacant dwelling that had been occupied by an eccentric doctor of the name of Mannering, who had gone away years before, no one knew where, not even his agent. He had built the house himself and had lived in it with an old servant for about ten years. His practice, never very extensive, had after a few years been given up entirely. Not only so, but he had withdrawn himself almost altogether from social life and become a recluse. I was told by the village doctor, about the only person with whom he held any relations, that during his retirement he had devoted himself to a single line of study, the result of which he had expounded in a book that did not commend itself to the approval of his professional brethren, who, indeed, considered him not entirely sane. I have not seen the book and cannot now recall the title of it, but I am told that it expounded a rather startling theory. He held that it was possible in the case of many a person in good health to forecast his death with precision, several months in advance of the event. The limit, I think, was eighteen months. There were local tales of his having exerted his powers of prognosis, or perhaps you would say diagnosis; and it was said that in every instance the person whose friends he had warned had died suddenly at the appointed time, and from no assignable cause. All this, however, has nothing to do with what I have to tell; I thought it might amuse a physician.

'The house was furnished, just as he had lived in it. It was a rather gloomy dwelling for one who was neither a recluse nor a student, and I think it gave something of its character to me - perhaps some of its former occupant's character; for always I felt in it a certain melancholy that was not in my natural disposition, nor, I think, due to loneliness. I had no servants that slept in the house, but I have always been, as you know, rather fond of my own society, being much addicted to reading, though little to study. Whatever was the cause, the effect was dejection and a sense of impending evil; this was especially so in Dr. Mannering's study, although that room was the lightest and most airy in the house. The doctor's life-size portrait in oil hung in that room, and seemed completely to dominate it. There was nothing unusual in the picture; the man was evidently rather good looking, about fifty years old, with iron-grey hair, a smooth-shaven face and dark, serious eyes. Something in the picture always drew and held my attention. The man's appearance became familiar to me, and rather "haunted" me.

'One evening I was passing through this room to my bedroom, with a lamp - there is no gas in Meridian. I stopped as usual before the portrait, which seemed in the lamplight to have a new expression, not easily named, but distinctly uncanny. It interested but did not disturb me. I moved the lamp from one side to the other and observed the effects of the altered light. While so engaged I felt an impulse to turn round. As I did so I saw a man moving across the room directly toward me! As soon as he came near enough for the lamplight to illuminate the face I saw that it was Dr. Mannering himself; it was as if the portrait were walking!

'"I beg your pardon," I said, somewhat coldly, "but if you knocked I did not hear."
'He passed me, within an arm's length, lifted his right forefinger, as in warning, and without a word went on out of the room, though I observed his exit no more than I had observed his entrance.

'Of course, I need not tell you that this was what you will call a hallucination and I call an apparition. That room had only two doors, of which one was locked; the other led into a bedroom, from which there was no exit. My feeling on realizing this is not an important part of the incident.

'Doubtless this seems to you a very commonplace "ghost story" - one constructed on the regular lines laid down by the old masters of the art. If that were so I should not have related it, even if it were true. The man was not dead; I met him to-day in Union Street. He passed me in a crowd.'

Hawver had finished his story and both men were silent. Dr. Frayley absently drummed on the table with his fingers.
'Did he say anything to-day?' he asked - 'anything from which you inferred that he was not dead?'
Hawver stared and did not reply.

'Perhaps,' continued Frayley,' he made a sign, a gesture - lifted a finger, as in warning. It's a trick he had - a habit when saying something serious - announcing the result of a diagnosis, for example.'
'Yes, he did - just as his apparition had done. But, good God! did you ever know him?'
Hawver was apparently growing nervous.

'I knew him. I have read his book, as will every physician some day. It is one of the most striking and important of the century's contributions to medical science. Yes, I knew him; I attended him in an illness three years ago. He died.'

Hawver sprang from his chair, manifestly disturbed. He strode forward and back across the room; then approached his friend, and in a voice not altogether steady, said: 'Doctor, have you anything to say to me - as a physician? '

'No, Hawver; you are the healthiest man I ever knew. As a friend I advise you to go to your room. You play the violin like an angel. Play it; play something light and lively. Get this cursed bad business off your mind.'

The next day Hawver was found dead in his room, the violin at his neck, the bow upon the string, his music open before him at Chopin's Funeral March.

Ghosts

· Do you believe in ghosts?
· Do you believe that dead people come back to life as ghosts?
· Do you believe that houses can be haunted? Have you ever been to one?
· Do you believe that houses have ghosts in them sometimes?
· Do you believe your ancestors are watching you?
· Do you know anyone who has said that they have seen a ghost?
· Do you put any faith in the modern day ghost hunters?
· Do you think we can feel if a ghost is near us?
· Have you ever come in contact with a ghost?
· Have you ever felt that you knew a ghost that you saw?
· Have you ever seen a ghost?
· Have you seen a ghost? What kind of ghost? Did you get to talk with the ghost?
· Have you thought about becoming a ghostbuster?
· How do you know if a ghost is near you?
· If one of your friends told you they had seen a ghost, would you believe him/her? Why/Why not?
· If you don't believe in ghost, and you actually have seen one, what were your reactions?
· If you don't believe in ghost, tell why?
· If you were a ghost who and where would you haunt?
· Is there an area where you live (park, house, etc.) that is known to be haunted? If so, what is the story or legend that makes people believe this area is haunted? Have you ever visited this place?
· Were you ever touched or physically harmed by a ghost or "spirit"? If so, how?
· What do you about the image movies give us about aliens?
· What is the scariest ghost story you know?
· Why do people say they see ghosts even though they sometimes do not?
· Would you be scared if a ghost talked to you?
· Would you stay the night in a place where people say that there are ghosts? Like in a very old uninhabited house??

My Immortal

Evanescence

• Download "My Immortal" .mp3
  

I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me

You used to captivate me
By your resonating life

Now I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts
My once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away
All the sanity in me

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along

Haunted

Evanescence

No lost words, whisper slowly, to me.
Still can't find what keeps me here.
And all this time I've been so hollow, inside,
I know your still there.

Watching me, wanting me,
I can feel you haunt me down.
Fearing you, loving you,
I know I'll find you somehow.

Haunting you, I can smell you,
Your heart pounding in my head !

Wanting me, fearing me,
I won't let you haunt me down.
Deceiving me, bringing me,
Watching me !

Watching me, haunting me,
I can fear you haunt me down.
Fearing you, loving you,
I won't let you haunt me down.

Watching me, wanting me,
I can feel you haunt me down.
Fearing you, loving you,
I won't let you haunt me down.

Sacred Light

Towards God

Pick the First Apple!

The Fisherman

Earth Song

Michael Jackson

Song's Video Clip

The song's music video depicts the Earth being destroyed by humans, and alludes to environmental and poverty issues in the world. The visuals present the destruction of rainforests by loggers, animals killed by poachers, and a North American forest burnt to stumps. The video also shows the devastation of 1990s aggressions in Yugoslav wars and people returning to their shattered homes. In the end, Jackson and all the suffering native peoples depicted cry, kneel and turn to prayer, which God answers the prayers by bringing animals and people to life and returns forests, returning everything to its original, peaceful state.

• Download "Earth Song".mp3

What about sunrise?
What about rain?
What about all the things
That you said we were to gain . . .
What about killing fields?
Is there a time?
What about all the things
That you said was yours and mine . . .
Did you ever stop to notice
All the blood we've shed before?
Did you ever stop to notice
The crying Earth the weeping shores?

What have we done to the world?
Look what we've done
What about all the peace
That you pledge your only son . . .
What about flowering fields?
Is there a time?
What about all the dreams
That you said was yours and mine . . .
Did you ever stop to notice
All the children dead from war?
Did you ever stop to notice
The crying Earth, the weeping shores?

I used to dream
I used to glance beyond the stars
Now I don't know where we are
Although I know we've drifted far

Hey, what about yesterday?
What about the seas?
The heavens are falling down
I can't even breathe
What about the bleeding Earth
Can't we feel its wounds?
What about nature's worth?
It's our planet's womb
What about animals?
We've turned kingdoms to dust
What about elephants?
Have we lost their trust?
What about crying whales
We're ravaging the seas
What about forest trails?

Burnt despite our pleas
What about the holy land?
Torn apart by creed
What about the common man?
Can't we set him free?
What about children dying?
Can't you hear them cry?
Where did we go wrong?

Someone tell me why
What about babies?
What about the days?
What about all their joy?
What about the man?
What about the crying man?
What about Abraham?
What about death again?
Do we give a damn?

What I've Done

Linkin' Park

Music Video

The music video for "What I've Done" explores the many ironies of humanity and its ill effects on the earth and the environment. It juxtaposes various pieces of footage: a large, well-fed man eating fast food, a woman measuring her waist and a man who is so malnourished that his ribcage is visible through his skin, African Americans being hosed down, nuclear explosions, the World Trade Center towers collapsing, children waving American flags, a Middle Eastern child holding an AK-47, clips of oil tankers torn in half and birds covered in an oil slick.

• Download "What I've Done".mp3
  

In this farewell,
There's no blood,
There's no alibi.
'Cause I've drawn regret,
From the truth,
Of a thousand lies.

So let mercy come,
And wash away ...

What I've Done.
I'll face myself,
To cross out what I've become.
Erase myself,
And let go of what I've done.

Put to rest
What you thought of me.
While I clean this slate,
With the hands,
Of uncertainty.

So let mercy come,
And wash away ...

What I've Done.
I'll face myself,
To cross out what I've become.
Erase myself,
And let go of what I've done.

For What I've Done

I start again,
And whatever pain may come.
Today this ends,
I'm forgiving what I've done.

I'll face myself,
To cross out what I've become.
Erase myself,
And let go of what I've done.

What I've done.
Forgiving What I've Done.

A Hymn

Anne Brontë

Eternal power of earth and air,
Unseen, yet seen in all around,
Remote, but dwelling everywhere,
Though silent, heard in every sound.

If e'er thine ear in mercy bent
When wretched mortals cried to thee,
And if indeed thy Son was sent
To save lost sinners such as me.

Then hear me now, while kneeling here;
I lift to thee my heart and eye
And all my soul ascends in prayer;
O give me -­ give me Faith I cry.

Without some glimmering in my heart,
I could not raise this fervent prayer;
But O a stronger light impart,
And in thy mercy fix it there!

While Faith is with me I am blest;
It turns my darkest night to day;
But while I clasp it to my breast
I often feel it slide away.

Then cold and dark my spirit sinks,
To see my light of life depart,
And every fiend of Hell methinks
Enjoys the anguish of my heart.

What shall I do if all my love,
My hopes, my toil, are cast away,
And if there be no God above
To hear and bless me when I pray?

If this be vain delusion all,
If death be an eternal sleep,
And none can hear my secret call,
Or see the silent tears I weep.

O help me God! for thou alone
Canst my distracted soul relieve;
Forsake it not -- it is thine own,
Though weak yet longing to believe.

O drive these cruel doubts away
And make me know that thou art God;
A Faith that shines by night and day
Will lighten every earthly load.

If I believe that Jesus died
And waking rose to reign above,
Then surely Sorrow, Sin and Pride
Must yield to peace and hope and love.

And all the blessed words he said
Will strength and holy joy impart,
A shield of safety o'er my head,
A spring of comfort in my heart.