#[dark souls text] eye WILL make them Brazilian

[jonahmagnus]

[Flame text] MELANIN RESTORED

[laismoura-art]

I love the Guaraná plant!!! It's so weird and somewhat freaky!! It doesn't even look real! I want one so bad! 😂 You don't only have amazing myths, you also have an amazing fauna!

You have a really cool take on Delia's godhood, especially her rise towards it. It's a good callback to her OG status as a normal edenian to her new one as a goddess.

I wonder if the hordes of darkness she and the other sorceresses had to face were a result of Shinnok somehow. I mean, he is the Elder God of death, darkness and corruption after all.

This got me wondering about your god hierarchy because from what I get, in your AU there are only gods, not elder gods. So does Shinnok exist? Is he still a god and Cetrion's brother? IIRC, his amulet appears in MK1 but only because it was brought from another timeline and I wonder what Liu Kang did to Shinnok (was it said???) because you can't just erase death y'know?? 😭

Hi Rasta! Thanks for the ask!!💕

YEEEES! Guaraná is a true national GEM!💚

And we gotta love a hard-core backstory, like, "grown out of a dead child's eyes and watered with mourning tears??" Who gave this little plant the right to be this edgy??😂😂

If you're interested in a taste, Guaraná makes a delicious soda! (You can find it in France (I searched))

And if you're also interested in our folklore, I highly recommend the series "Invisible City" on Netflix! It, unfortunately, only had two seasons but it's great to get to know some of our myths!

My absolute favourite character is Inês, the Cuca! Her myth comes from this lullaby:

"Sleep little baby, that the Cuca is coming to get you. Father went to the fields and mom left for work. Bogeyman, get off the roof, let the little baby sleep soundly."���

She's also a powerful witch with an alligator's face! Though in the series, she has a regular face and a butterfly motif rather than an alligator's. But the most important is: She is a QUEEN!

She steals the show and will steal your heart! 👑

Alessandra Negrini rocked in this role!💕💕💕

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Ok, back to Delia!

I was so hoping the Brazilian folklore inspired origin would catch your eye and I'm so glad it did! 💚💛 I highly appreciate you reading through my walls of texts and finding amusement in them!

In general I'm glad you liked the result!!🥹❤️

And now, regarding the Gods/Elder Gods:

There are two types of gods: The ones who are born Gods, such as Argus and Cetrion. And the ones who ascended into Godhood, such as Delia and Asgaarth!

Godly-borns spawn into existence according to their realms necessities. Outworld lived in darkness, so the God of Light and Fire was born and Earthrealm needed to bear life, so the Goddess of Life, Light and Virtue was born!

Meanwhile Ascended Gods were once mortal beings who sacrificed themselves for their people and were gifted Godhood. Their godly blessings allow them to offer their people what they need the most to survive and prosper.

Delia's people needed a more constant light and protection from the hordes of darkness, so she was gifted the sun and through it, she helped her people.

In life, Asgaarth was the advisor of the First Edenian Queen, Mimh (who's soul nowadays rests in the oldest tree of the Living Forest), he ascended after dying protecting a group of wanderers. He became the God of Wind and Patron of Travellers and graced the wanderers, who had accepted him as one of their own and also pleaded the gods to take him, with powerful wings (and other bird features) that would allow them to travel far and safe!

It is an unspoken rule that Ascended Gods have a closer relationship with the mortals and get to handle their affairs more often. Godly-borns tend to keep a safe distance as they lack a certain empathy only mortals possess.

The only exception is Cetrion, who tried to be a more present Goddess and directly serve her Realms residents.

I've been pondering for a while on how much of the previous timeline and Kronika Cetrion remembers, and through her redesign I think I got my answers! She remembers everything! And she's doing her hardest to go against her mother's desings for her (like I said, it's her rebellious phase, lol)

Which is why she decided to stay closer to the Ascended Gods instead, to learns from them and ultimately grow closer to the mortals under her protection. Acting as such granted her the trust and devotion of the Shirai family and all the women who would become the Order of Cetrion!

Liu Kang is an Ascended God but he pretends to be a Godly-born, because he doesn't want risk anyone finding out about his past as Time Keeper. Cetrion knows, obviously, but she keeps secret. She also knows about Geras still being around and helping but both avoid each other cause they aren't yet ready to talk about their past with Kronika.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆��☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Gods may be called "Elder Gods" but not because they rank above other Gods, but because they are literally older, lol! It's the same as calling an elder "sir/mr/mrs" it's just a formality (though when Cetrion calls Argus that, she means it in a derogatory way, lmao)

No God, Ascended or Godly-born, is above other. They are all equals!

Regarding on whether Shinnok is alive or not:

I'm not sure about canon, Liu said Shinnok’s Amulet "wasn't supposed to exist" and it could imply either that Shinnok specifically doesn't exist (and maybe there's a new God of Death) or that he hasn't turned evil yet!

Personally I like both ideas and could be open to either! But my main idea is that Shinnok himself doesn't exist as a deity but parts of his being are still present and manifesting in other ways, such as the hordes of darkness! (Because indeed, ou can't just erase death)

Plus, I have an old theory that the New Era also suffers with Canon Events 🎸 and as much as he tries, Liu can't just erase certain things and they end up manifesting in other ways (the Tarkatans, the Shirai Ryu vs the Lin Kuei, Hanzo and Takeda as Shirai Ryu, Tomas as a Lin Kuei, etc, etc) some things are just inevitable and they will happen one way or another, you know?

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Okay, that's what I have for now! Hope it answers your questions (and raise some more cause I love to talk about this AU) and more importantly, hope you enjoy the reading!💕

@mikka-minns @thedragonholder @orbitinytheworld @madamealtruist You girls would like some godly lore?👀

[paodequeijofeliz-blog]

Let me tell you a good story

Bloodbound Fanfiction (characters and main story belongs to Pixelberry Studios).

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed and MC (Annie)

Information:  this takes place after Bloodbound 3, here I’m recreating how Kamilah and MC would meet if she had never gone to Raines Corporation right away.

Summary: Thirty years after meeting Annie for the first time, Kamilah is now a wife and a mother. During a regular family dinner, she decides to tell her daughter and their new son-in-law the story of how she fell in love with Annie after an unusual meeting through the hallways of NYU.

Warnings: there is just a little bit of smut talking in the end. A little. Barely. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Let me tell you a good story - Part 7 (Finale)

March 2nd, 2048

“Okay, okay. Shoo everyone. So. Where was I?” Anna scratched her eyes again. “Right, at the gala. After breakfast, Kamilah asked me to stay at the Penthouse, cause’ it would be easier to just get dressed there… Which lead to a day of not working so much, no details needed, of course. Until we finally showered and got ready to go.”

“Me in forty minutes. She…” Kamilah poked her wife’s head. “Took three hours.”

 “Yeah, she still does that” Lysia sighed in confirmation, remembering how her mother took ages to get ready for the daughter’s graduation. “That’s why you’re getting dressed way before me, when the wedding comes.”

“I wanted to look pretty, ok? It’s not every day that a smoking hot rich brilliant woman ask you to be her date.” Anna defended herself, fighting a yawn. “The part you want to hear happened after we were already there…”

 --------------------------------------------------------------------

September 16th, 2018

The gala was being held at one of those rich, huge, and fancy hotels, worldwide known, that Anna never really memorized the name.

“Baccarat Hotel, darling. In Manhattan.” Kamilah added, but her piece of information was dismissed by a “Whatever Rich Hotel, doesn’t make a difference” response from her wife.

The event was set to start at 8 pm, so it was already dark outside. The city lights and camera flashes glowed on Annie’s dress when she stepped out of the limousine. That outfit was carefully selected to match Kamilah’s. A dark shade of blue with tiny crystals, like the night sky, making the historian’s smooth skin look like a dangerous temptation. The back was barely covered, and even though it seemed to hug her tight on the breasts, it got looser as it approached the hem, floating and following the woman’s movement. It was beautiful, indeed, but nothing compared to her date.

Kamilah was so absolutely gorgeous, Anna couldn’t help staring at her through the entire ride there, and almost lost her breath when she saw that wonderful goddess looking over the shoulders and smiling invitingly. It was the most beautiful vision in the world.

“Darling, what a coincidence, I was thinking the same thing when I saw you that night” the Egyptian laughed, a hint of red flashing through her eyes, “And you’re still the most beautiful vision in the world, with or without a Versace’s dress on you.”

“I do remember you saying ‘without’ was even better in the end of the night…” Anna looked up to meet Kamilah’s gaze, almost loosing track of the story. “So…”

Kamilah’s gown was a silver provocative mermaid cut with a deep neckline and a set of elegant sapphire jewels. They were the night and the stars, and what the Egyptian didn’t know by them, is that one day, years ahead, Annie would hold her hands on the altar an make vowels to ‘always support you, as the night sky supports the moon and the stars, for you are and always will be my entire galaxy’.

Back then, the only thing they were both aware was the intense feeling pulling them together through the event. For the first couple hours, their sole attention was focused on each other. Both danced, drank and laughed like they were the only two people standing on that ballroom. And even though they didn’t kiss, trying hard to maintain the professional boundaries intact (at least in front of the rest of the employees), it was evident to everyone that something was going on. After the sixth waltz, Kamilah felt this urge to just lean in and kiss the woman she had on her arms, sinking in desire, but Adrian interrupted them right on time.

“Excuse me.” He touched Anna on her elbow, capturing the historian’s attention. “Maybe it’s time for you two to blend in. Why don’t we greet the volunteers who are going to be working in the basement with you next month, Ms. Mali? Kamilah needs to have a moment with the senator as well.”

“Of course, Mr. Raines.”

With a last sparkling smile, Annie left her date and followed Adrian’s lead to a group of people by the bar. They weren’t really interesting to talk to and the conversation flew in circles, getting so dull that soon enough she saw herself drinking more champagne than the recommended. At some point, the main topic became Ms. Sayeed. One of them, Mr. Paul Lynn, was excited to work for her.

“Hold your horses, pal. She can be such a pain in the ass.” Annie finally said something, an empty glass on her hands.

“Really? People said she’s a little bit tough, maybe demanding, but a nice person in general.” Paul landed his eyes beyond Annie’s shoulder, quickly composing himself, but the historian didn’t notice this subtle change of posture.

“Good evening. Am I interrupting?” Kamilah’s voice showed up right beside Anna, her gorgeous features monopolizing every single eye on that group.

“Not at all. We were just chatting about work, how’s the project, the documents, the boss…” Annie also didn’t see how Paul and the others got tense over her words, since she could only stare at the one in silver beside her. “They want to meet Ms. Sayeed soon… But as I was saying, don’t get your hopes up, Paul. Besides being annoying, she’s never around. Never. Definitely not checking on us down in the basement.”

“Uhm… Well, I’m sure Ms. Sayeed probably has too many things to do… Right?” said the tall blond woman named Leah, a new archivist there. Her eyes flickered between Anna and Kamilah, unsure what to think of it.

“I seriously doubt it.”

“Why do you think that?” the Egyptian crossed her arms, dropping an amused glare over Anna. That was getting interesting.

“Well, come on, if this is so important to her, why haven’t I met the woman yet? She doesn’t even sign my paycheck, Mr. Raines does it. I bet she’s somewhere fancy right now, having a hot bath and laughing at the poor souls that have to deal with her freakin’ thousand emails every day.” Anna sighed tiredly, too much champagne in her system. “As I said before, a real pain in the ass. When you think you made progress, there comes Ms. Sayeed with a new order. I swear, there are days my phone buzzes so much, seems like it’s trying to jump from my pocket and commit suicide. That’s her thing, you know? Boss around. Not even a polite ‘thank you for working overtime today’. So yeah, the project is great, Mr. Raines and Kamilah here are both amazing, but throw away any ideas of bonding with Ms. Sayeed.”

“Ms. Sayeed, they’re ready for your speech.” They were interrupted by an elegant man in tuxedo who offered his hand to walk the Egyptian to the stage.

At first, Annie frowned in confusion.

Then, her eyes met Kamilah’s and all the pieces finally connected correctly. The company, the situation, when and how they met, what she said that night, why Ms. Sayeed was never introduced to her…

“Holy shit, I’m fucking the real boss.”

“You’re WHAT?” Paul dropped his chin.

  --------------------------------------------------------------------

“OH. NO.” Drake also dropped his chin, just like Paul did so many years ago. “OH NO, OH NO, OH NO”

“I was mad at her!” Annie tried to defend herself, cheeks getting redder by the second. “All I knew was that Ms. Sayeed would only text me orders. Never said ‘hi’, or something nice. Because the one who was saying something nice, in my understanding, was a different person!”

Kamilah couldn’t comment on it, since she was bursting into laughs. No story could make her laugh so much like that one. Slowly, she started to steady her breath, a hand placed over her own chest. By the window, Adrian was also cleaning the tears out of his eyes.

“Come on, mommy…” Lysia smiled kindly at the blushed woman on the floor. “Don’t mind them. We all love you the way you are. Continue the story.”

  --------------------------------------------------------------------

Anna had never wanted to burry herself on the ground that much in her entire life. She didn’t even hear the speech, the chock written all over the Brazilian’s face. Kamilah looked gorgeous under the spotlight, confident, professional. Surely was saying some pretty intelligent stuff too. Annie just couldn’t understand it, since she was momentarily deaf. Petrified. Half a glass of champagne still lingering between her fingers. At some point, the speech was over, but the historian only realized it when Adrian touched her back and whispered a request. She heard it, but apparently forgot every single word in English.

“Quê?”

“Dance with me, will you?” He asked again while gently leading her away from the group. Anna only realized what was happening by the time his hand held her waist and helped her to move around at the sound of a slow song. “Hey. Are you ok? Can you hear me?”

She nodded, not risking saying anything.

“Don’t beat yourself so much, Kamilah could’ve told you the truth long ago, but she was having too much fun with this little secret.”

“Huh.” That’s all her voice was able to project.

Adrian muffled a short laugh, bringing her closer and waltzing away from the others. In a couple minutes, they had escaped those curious eyes, approaching the corner of the ballroom, where he slowly diminished the steps to end the dance. “Now, I believe here you’re safe.”

Annie’s gaze wondered around, still lost in her thoughts. She only noticed Adrian had left when Kamilah’s voice echoed sensually by her ear, making the historian shiver and tense like a statue. Her eyes lifted to find brown ones intensely glaring at her.

“Good evening, Ms. Mali. My name is Kamilah Sayeed, and I’m the CEO of Ahmanet Financial. It’s a pleasure to finally meet the woman who’s leading my most important project. It has come to my attention that you have a few issues towards me and my… Bossy manners. However, it could only be a mistake since last night you seemed really comfortable following my orders in the bedroom.”

Anna bit her lower lip, still quiet.

“Oh, no words? Not a single complaint? What a pity, I was so longing to meet the dazzling historian who managed to criticize my thesis with no mercy.” Kamilah’s fingernails went down Annie’s back smoothly, not leaving marks behind. “Why don’t you come with me to the suite upstairs so we can discuss how many ways am I able to be a real pain in your ass?”

Without even waiting to hear a response, she slapped the historian’s butt before heading to the service elevator with a shining room card sticking out of her neckline.

Anna followed. Hypnotized. No questions asked.

Never again she complained about being bossed around by Ms. Sayeed.

  --------------------------------------------------------------------

“Aw, there’s a happy ending.” Drake’s arms were involving his fiancée’s waist, tightening. “So, maybe you were right, baby… They do have a much better love story.”

“Oh, but we’re not done, there is way more. A couple days after that, something terrible happened with Lily, so much changed, and I…” Annie scratcher her eyes for the third time.

That was it. Kamilah leaned down to take the woman in her arms. “It’s time to go to sleep, my love. We’ll tell them the rest on our next dinner, I promise.”

Anna didn’t even have the strength to resist. She was terribly tired, and her wife’s embrace was too damn comfortable. “Fiiiiiiine… Tomorrow night…”.

Adrian smiled fondly at them. With a silently nod and a good night kiss on Lysia’s forehead, he left to his own apartment. Drake and Lysia went to the guest room after cleaning up the table, while Kamilah slowly got up and took Annie into bed.

The historian mumbled something incomprehensible when was lay there.

“What, darling?” the vampire leaned down to hear it better, spooning Anna by instinct.

“I love you, Mrs. Sayeed.”

Kamilah smiled, turning her face to place a kiss on the girl’s temple.

“I love you too, Mrs. Sayeed.”

[shona-sims-blog]

Other Side of the Game (An Urban Sims 4 Story)

Part Six || Quentin

“Bro’, I’m telling you bro’. This Simboicarti is the new wave,” He mumbled as a thick cloud of gray smoke exited his mouth, his eyes were glazed over and barely open. I’m almost sure that they were closed; anyone outside of this room would have thought he was sleepwalking. “Bro’, you’ll thank me later, just listen bro’,” He pointed to the stereo as the rapper on the radio started mumbling about running from cops and shooting at opps.

The beat was nice and the rapper was different from anyone I’d heard before. I couldn’t help when I started subconsciously bobbing my head to the track.

“It’s actually a cool song,” I commented.

“Yeahhh, bro’, I told you,” Whenever I conversed with Trent I literally felt my brain cells shrink every time he called me “bro”. Even considering that fact, he was one of my closest friends and had been since he moved to the neighborhood back in middle school. Besides him being a fist bumping “Bro”; he was actually a pretty cool guy. He aspired to be a DJ and somehow found new music before everyone else did.

“Damnnn! ‘Dis shit slappin’ Trent, who you said ‘dis is again?” Unique said with her mouth open, I didn’t realize she was listening to our conversation until she quizzed Trent. I looked up and started laughing; Unique didn’t miss anything and although most people said she was nosey I just believed her to be observant – even if her ability was misplaced. Had she not been such a gossip and didn’t dislike authority so much, she would have made a great detective.

“It’s Simboicarti bro’,” He slowly responded to her and started laughing too, making his already low eyes close completely. Male or female and regardless of your age, everyone was a bro’ to Trent and that included his sister Isabella. I turned around to see her dancing in the kitchen. She was moving side to side and rolling her hips to the beat. She must have felt me watching her, because after a minute we made eye contact. Damn, it would be rude if I didn’t speak to her now.

As I approached her the song changed and there was a shift of energy in the room. Instead of heavy bass and violent rap lyrics blasting from the stereo the track was replaced by a melodic neo-soul beat. The hip hop artist spoke words that easily flowed through the speakers and his rhymes sounded more like poetry or spoken word than song lyrics. Everyone stopped dancing for a moment and either listened to the tune playing or started their own separate conversations.

“Hey Isabella,” I greeted her. Her mouth curved upward and she touched her lips. The skirt she wore complimented her never-ending legs, she was almost taller than me standing in her heels.

“Hi Que,” She beamed. I felt something stir in my lower stomach, man. For a second I almost lost my composure – Griffey was right, she was absolutely gorgeous. We had been texting a lot lately, but we hadn’t been this close to each since the party where we exchanged numbers. She looked even better in person; her pictures on Simstagram didn’t do her justice.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” I asked to be courteous. She looked like she should be in a little black dress standing beside some rich CEO hosting a cocktail party, rather than this smoked filled room.

“I would have been enjoying myself a bit more if you had said hello earlier,” She teased. Her mouth opened and she let out a boisterous laugh. I felt my cheeks start to get warm.

“My bad, I was just catching up with your brother.” My words rushed out causing my voice to betray my emotions; I think my palms were sweating. Maybe I was just a bit nervous talking to her in person. Her face relaxed after noticing my embarrassment.

“Oh no Que, you don’t have to apologize,” I listened as she continued talking. “Lo siento papi,” My God, when she spoke Spanish, it sounded amazing. I think she was apologizing. “I was only joking with you,” I let out a nervous laugh. “Can we chat together outside?” Isabella asked as she turned her head in the direction of the front door.

“Sure.” I didn’t hesitate in following her out of the apartment. Isabella started speaking in a much softer voice than before as the door closed behind us.

“See, Quentin – I really like talking to you,” My heart was pounding in my chest and my hands were slick with cold sweat, I wiped them on the pockets of my jeans. “I think you’re very different from the guys around here, like you’re so cute but you also like really smart papi, that’s so sexy. But I don’t understand,” The corners of her pretty mouth turned downward and her brows slightly furrowed together into a frown.

“I just like don’t know if you feelin’ me like that?” Her voice hesitated and I wasn’t sure if what she said was a question or a statement. The left side of my brain started to calculate how many times she said the word ‘like’ and the right side of my brain pondered how soft her lips were. She looked at me with an uncertain expression and her silence awaited my response.

“Bella,” I met her eyes and prepared to answer her honestly. “I think you’re really nice and I enjoy talking to you,” I sighed. “A lot, actually. I don’t know why you would think that I don’t like you, but just for clarification I think you’re awesome and sweet. If I ever gave you the impression that I wasn’t interested in you then I apologize because I do like you.” I finished and looked at her hoping that she would say something – anything.

“Thank you Que, I’m so happy now,” She quickly went back to her normal sunny disposition.  “Want to go back inside?” She asked and I nodded.

“That’s cool with me,” I’m glad that I was able to put her doubts at ease. I did have the desire to get to know her better with the hopes that she was more than just a pretty face. She turned around and headed towards the door. I watched as her hips swayed back and forth with each step she took. Her walk was feminine and sexy, like a feline. A second later we were back in my apartment standing by the fridge talking and laughing in the kitchen with everyone else. My palms were no longer perspiring and the awkwardness that I felt outside in the hallway had all but vanished.

Between sharing conversation with Isabella and listening to Mohammad’s side splitting jokes about Geechie’s dreads I almost didn’t notice Corianna sitting on the couch or the girl who she brought along with her.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt. May I get a class of water please?” An easy voice asked politely, under her thin framed glasses her eyes were soft and dark as strong coffee. I could scarcely the see resemblance between the cousins, but regardless of their likeness there was no doubt that the brown skinned girl was Corianna’s cousin Kali.

“Of course you can,” Before I could give her an answer, Isabella responded with a pleasant grin.

“Aye girl, let me ask you, is anything wrong with my dreads?” Geechie’s question seemed to catch Corianna’s cousin off-guard because her cheeks looked like they were turning a dark shade of maroon.

“Um… If - if you like them, that’s all that matters!” She exclaimed nervously as she smiled toward Mohammad, for a split second I wished that she had been smiling at me, it was absolutely beautiful. Geechie looked satisfied with her answer, because he smiled smugly. He and Mohammad always went back and forth about the topic of each-others hair like two divas. One was going prematurely bald so he sported a bare head that Mr. Clean would envy and the other had enough hair to supply three rastas.

“Well Unique you slippin’ yo, ‘cus your man need a retwist!” Mohammad joked.

Unique narrowed her eyes looking like she wanted to slap him – she could be such a hot head, especially when it came to Geechie. “I’ll take care of my mans hair Mo’, but if you wasn’t stressin’ out about other people’s hair so much then you would have your own.” Mohammad shrugged his broad shoulders at her response and his big belly jiggled when he chuckled.

“Well, I guess that makes two of because that Yaki T1-B4-27 I sold you damn sure ain’t yours,” Mohammad retorted matter-of-factly, his family owned the beauty supply store up the block. I had no clue what the numbers he called out meant, but apparently all the girls did. Trent spun around and covered his mouth to keep from laughing directly into Unique’s face.

“First of all, this is Brazilian,” Unique corrected Mohammad, sounding aggravated. She narrowed her eyes at him and took a long drag of her blunt.

“Leave my baby alone,” Geechie protested coming to Unique’s defense, failing miserably at his attempt to hold in a snicker.

“And second of all the only thing Mo’ needs to leave alone is Big Macs and Whoppers,” Unique said pointedly as she finished Mohammad and the room could barely contain our laughter, but the only two people who weren’t joining in were Griffey and Corianna. The pair were having a hushed conversation in the living room.

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[fenrirgraves]

A “should we know us a little better” tag

RULES: you must answer these 92 statements and tag 20 people

Tagged by @thatdorktori​ (Thank you so much friend!  I LOVE these!)

THE LAST:

1. Drink: Water, with fruit punch Crystal Light in it

2. Phone call: My grandparents; Nana and Papa.  They’re the best <3

3. Text message: My mom

4. Song you listened to: Since I’m playing Dark Souls 3, it’d be “Soul of Cinder: Phase 2″

5. Time you cried: Pretty sure I wake up with tears in my eyes daily because my dreams really touch my heart...but last time I genuinely cried?  Few weeks ago, I think.  Hard to say.

6. Dated someone twice: Yeah

7. Kissed someone and regretted it: Negatory

8. Been cheated on: Unfortunately

9. Lost someone special: Sadly

10. Been depressed: For over 7 years now.  Had a few suicide attempts...bad territory.  But I’m always willing to share, talk, help, and compare metaphorical scars.  There’s always someone who loves you.  

11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: Yep, first time, only time.  Never gonna do it again

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS:

12-14: Blue, black, gray

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU:

15. Made new friends: Certainly!

16. Fallen out of love: Nope

17. Laughed until you cried: I believe so.  

18. Found out someone was talking about you: You bet

19. Met someone who changed you: Absolutely, in very good ways.

20. Found out who your friends are: Big time

21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: Without a doubt

GENERAL:

22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: Nearly all of them.  Some are musicians in bands I like that I’ve made friends with.

23. Do you have any pets: Yes and no.  No pets in my home, my mom is allergic.  BUT Nana and Papa have three cats...Scottie, BG (Beautiful Girl), and Namine.  I also consider my buddy Don’s cat, Striborg, to be my pet, as well as my friend Dan’s cat, Link.

24. Do you want to change your name: Wouldn’t be out of the question.

25. What did you do for your last Birthday: Went to a Brazilian Steakhouse with Kairi, had my first legal drink, got ice cream, came home, and cuddled and snuggled

26. What time did you wake up: Today?  Like...5

27. What were you doing at midnight last night: Playin’ Dark Souls 3

28. Name something you can’t wait for: FYWROK (Fuck You We Rule O K) trip!  Weekend-long punk fest in Tulsa, Oklahoma.  Going with my best buds, Don and Kelly, leaving on Tuesday!  

29. When was the last time you saw your mom: Few hours ago before she went to bed

30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: The mistakes I made with Kairi.  I hope that damage can be healed...

31. What are you listening right now: The fan in my room whirring, the birds outside waking up and chirping

32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: My dad was named Tom, and I have a friend in Fredonia named Tom.

33. Something that is getting on your nerves: My actions in the last year

34. Most visited Website: YouTube n’ Tumblr

35. Mole/s: Skin tag right around my armpit, that’s about it.  Had two moles removed though, from the left side of my neck.

36. Mark/s: Nothing really, but I have a cool scar on my elbow the looks like the Quake logo!

37. Childhood dream: To enjoy life to its fullest and not be bogged down but the world

38. Hair color: Naturally? Normal brown.  Currently?  Green.  In a few days?  Red and black

39. Long or short hair: Normally on the shorter side, but my I’m working on that depression growth.  Gonna swing by my buddy Gabe’s place before FYWROK to get it cut.  If my hair was straight I’d grow that shit the fuck out, but it’s curly and...bleh.

40. Do you have a crush on someone: Technically yes, technically no.

41. What do you like about yourself: I’m smart, witty, charismatic, have great music taste...and I know good food.

42. Piercings: Nay

43. Bloodtype: UGH I had to trek ALL THE FUCKING WAY across my room to get my donor’s card... A-

44. Nickname: Sora

45. Relationship status: Single off of a 4 year relationship as of a few months ago...it’s complicated, but bottom line, we both needed a break, time to grow and develop ourselves.  I took her for granted, did a number on her even though she loved me passionately still...and we just needed time apart.  But everyone in my life believe that it’s real, and we can indeed make it happen again after we heal.

46. Zodiac: Capricorn

47. Pronouns: He/Him

48. Favorite TV Show: Something current?  Black Mirror

49. Tattoos: Nothing yet, but once I have those dolla dolla bills, you bet your ass

50. Right or left hand: Right

51. Surgery: On my wisdom teeth last year...and on my balls in 2011.  Testicular torsion.  Worst.Shit.Ever.

52. Piercing: You asked this 10 questions ago

53. Sport: Olympic nothingness

55. Vacation: Anything, anytime, anywhere.

56. Pair of trainers: Boy I go barefoot, come on now

MORE GENERAL:

57. Eating: Stinger Sub from Picasso’s 

58. Drinking: Nothing, currently

59. I’m about to: Eat some more

61. Waiting for: The inevitable sweet release of death

62. Want: Kairi

63. Get married: One day

64. Career: I’ll take it under advisement, forward that to my secretary.  I’ll get back to you on that.

WHICH IS BETTER?:

65. Hugs or kisses: THEY’RE EQUAL

66. Lips or eyes: Eyes.  They capture my soul.

67. Shorter or taller: Don’t really care

68. Older or younger: Doesn’t matter

70. Nice arms or nice stomach: Boy really now?

71. Sensitive or loud: Both, depends on the situation, boss

72. Hook up or relationship: Relationship, definitely.

73. Troublemaker or hesitant: Troublemaker, no doubt.  I’m not as bad as some of my friends, but regardless, my halo is a tarnished pinhole.

HAVE YOU EVER:

74. Kissed a stranger: Indeed

75. Drank hard liquor: I prefer it to beer

76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: Nope, somehow I manage good track of that shit

77. Turned someone down: I think so?  Not sure.  I’m kinda particular.

78. Sex in the first date: Definitely not.

79. Broken someones heart: As much as I hate to admit it, I know indeed that I have

80. Had your heart broken: Shattered

81. Been arrested: Technically.  I was 15, almost got charged with petty larceny.  Nice.

82. Cried when someone died: No doubt

83. Fallen for a friend: Yep

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

84. Yourself: I try my best to

85. Miracles: You sexy thing

86. Love at first sight: Not love, but definitely the beginnings

87. Santa Claus: Y E S

88. Kiss in the first date: If it is appropriate, then yes

89. Angels: There are indeed some girls out there who are

OTHER:

90. Current best friends name: Don and Kelly

91. Eyecolor: Brown like mud! <3

92. Favorite movie: Mr. Nobody (Extended Cut of course)

Sorry to disappoint but I don’t know 20 people that I can tag that’d do this, so I’ll throw one at this boy @waffle--kun, because he loves this shit as much as I do.

As for the rest...

ANYONE ELSE WHO WANTS TO DO THIS CAN CONSIDER THEMSELVES TAGGED!

[fabelgis4680]

Module 7

Malcom X’s “The Ballot or the Bullet” – I appreciate the prologue on religion differences and how though their practice is different and may be conflicted over, the true conflict that needs to be united over despite differences is the overall oppression black people are experiencing under the white men in power. It is immediately stated right after that it does not mean that they are anti – white, but that they are anti-exploitation, anti-degradation, and anti-oppression. If white men don’t want to see it as them then they should stop exploiting, degrading, and oppressing. 1964 was only a few years before my parents were born. This illuminates the reality of post slavery oppression that continues to today. I have heard before of Malcolm X’s opinion on voting. What I am understanding is that he considers voting as a waste because their vote will give them nothing in return because the system is not in their favor and is under means to oppress them. I haven’t heard of a dixiecrat before.

W.E.B. DuBois’ “Strivings of the Negro People” – 1897 – I can compare the oppressed question that DuBois is given of “How does it feel to be a problem” to being persisted to today with people of color and specifically and almost identically to the book “How does it feel to be a problem” by Moustafa Bayoumi on being young and Arab in America. I had to google shades of the prison-house and it took me to a poem called “Immitations of Immorality.” He recounts the double consciousness and struggle of being black and an American. DuBois states over 50 years before Malcolm does “The power of the ballot we need in sheer self-defense, and as a guarantee of good faith.” To quote “there is to-day no true American music but the sweet wild melodies of the Negro slave; the American fairy tales are Indian and African; we are the sole oasis of simple faith and reverence in a dusty desert of dollars and smartness.” Is this contributing to the truths of music / stories being sourced from African Americans but not given the rightful accountability or profits?

Frantz Fanon’s “Reciprocal Bases of National Culture and the Fight for Freedom” – 1959 – The whole first paragraph lends to a lot of information on colonialism, disrupting and conquering people, a cultural obliteration that is over simplified. Occupying power and banishing natives and systematically enslaving. Fences and signposts being an basic factor. Brings me to reflect on the start of property and claiming land just by fencing it off. Can be compared to the idea of walls that are a buzz of today. “The poverty of the people, national oppression and the inhibition of culture are one and the same thing.” And “Colonial exploitation, poverty and endemic famine drive the native more and more to open, organised revolt.” Then it goes into literature and colonialism and the different narratives and consciousness and national consciousness.

Stokely Carmichael’s “From Black Power to Pan-Africanism” – the listen is different from the read, but in the listen he states, “Brothers and sisters” uniting being African in America because there is unity from America’s history of all being stolen and brought to America and experiencing the same struggles and oppressions under slavery and post slavery. He is calling the fighting an extended war that America. Revolution relying on truth and justice. The read delves into many critical comparisons with pan Africanism, Malcolm x, Marxism-Leninism, Muhammad Ali getting paid substantially less, and continued consequences under capitalism.

Melvin B. Tolson’s “Dark Symphony” – “Thorns of greed on labors brow” and “Black slaves singing” their verses give visualization to the words. These rhymes remind me of what DuBois was talking about with original music / stories being sole from African Americans. The poem is expresses the grim, bloody, and pain. “Barricades of Jim Crowism” and calling to advance past.

Amiri Baraka’s “Black Dada Nihilismus” - *May I just add I really appreciate the audio reads* There is low New York Art Quartet music playing in the background with Baraka in the recording. The website gives highlighted words with given definitions are very useful. It is explained that Baraka doesn’t actually want the gruesome stated lines to be true, but the gruesomeness needs to be accounted for to understand / hear the narrative that is given a shy eye when black people have been systemically fallen victim to the gruesome. It stated in the side bar “The New York Times critiqued the song for its violent imagery, specifically in these lines. The article goes on to describe Baraka’s “highly-political avant-garde” as a “call for black revolutionaries to rape and murder in the service of liberation.” I don’t think they understand.

three poems by Aimé Cesaire – To the Serpent – A little hard to read, searching for the right animal to adore then it gets to the serpent. “God gives not you hold supremely.” And “Serpent delirium and peace” going to how the serpent is a threat and that though “threat a sagacious hand that does not pardon cowards” I do not quite understand this poem or what it may be critically analyzed to be compared to. There may be euphemisms beyond my awareness. It sounds a little religious mentioning the fig and altar.

At the Locks of the Void -  This poem is more understandable than To the Serpent. There is more imagery and metaphors. There are a lot of comparisons. Cesaire is giving full amounts of detail to the text. Things that stick out to me are thirst, hunger, blood, disease, graphic, religion, and Europe. “Europe, eminent name of the turd”

Forfeiture – This poem is interesting. Closing with the line, “ay I am standing and in the sole whiteness that men have never recognized in me.” But preceding this includes mentioning genitalia, gruesome descriptions involving urine, snakes, the planets, and earth.  

“Bread” by Kamau Brathwaite – I do not understand this poem. The lines touch a little on a realistic bread “adding water” or kneading.  But I do not understand what the words are making around it. The ending states “rolled into night into night w/out morning rolled into dead into dead w/out vision rolled into life into life w/out dream” which I think is comparing the rolling of bread to these. I will search for a guide / explanation to this poem.

Decolonising the Mind by Ngugi Wa Thiong’o – Language and Culture. I remember in class talking about how language should be saved and continued through natives. I think written language differentiated from spoken language was also conversed about of importance. Like how Ngugi states him and his family speaking Gi kuyH in the fields and at home and the importance of telling and retelling stories. After some schooling with his native language, colonizing and nationalism had the schools taken over to formal English education. Because of the declaration of a state of emergency over Kenya in 1952, others had to “bow” before English in differences involving corporal punishment for using native Gi kuyH.

excerpt from Aimé Cesaire on Negritude – a revolt against the European feeling of superiority and the result of an active and attitude of the mind on the offense. Stating to refuse oppression and to be against inequality. The system to revolt against is “characterized by a certain number of prejudices, of assumptions which generate a very strict hierarchy” For Africa to forward on from colonialism.

Jean Michel Basquiat paintings – I really enjoy his art. I believe I have been exposed to Aaron Douglas’ Birth of the blues before or at least its color scheme style may have been used as inspiration elsewhere. I did a project on an artist Chris Ofili who also uses culture and music aspects in his art similarly.

“The Radiant Child” by Rene Ricard – On tags, graffiti, rapping. “Graffiti refutes the idea of anonymous art where we know everything about a work except who made it” therefore comes the tag. As talked about in class, Basquait’s was “SAMO”.

material on Aaron Douglas: - a part of the “New Negro Movement” or “Harlem Renaissance.” Used silhouette forms in a friezed format, is this like a “freeze” or paused picture? The commotion in his art does look like a paused moment. Aspiration itself shows many chained hands all paused in an upward reaching moment.

YouTube playlist of Black political music – The variety in this playlist is very wide. With Billie Holiday, Kendrick Lamar, NWA, Beyonce, Sun Ra Jazz, Sam Cooke and many more.

On NWA – I’ve heard Fuck The Police, Seen Ice Cube in the family movie “Are We There Yet” and in 21 Jump street, Heard Dr.Dre with some 2000’s hits but that just might be all I know. Reading into the socially conscious rap I perceive the wave returning and persisting with Kendrick Lamar, Vic Mensa, and Beyonce to “expose the truth” as well.

Fela Kuti – Lagos Nigeria, in the 70’s created the bold Afrobeat music. A style and movement inspired by the Black Panthers and Malcolm X, voiced anger and protest against military rulers and corrupt oil industry. Music for revolution.

Amiri Baraka articles – Diz, or Dizzy Gilliespie, the late 40’s to 60’s music to Sun Ra with Afro American Jazz with Brazilian Samba styles, Pan American Funk, and orchestras making music that drives itself and transforms.

Music & black – the Black Power playlist shows substantial music that is meant for revolution and exposing the truth on an artistic platform. With the political messages in soul, funk, and jazz  this music expressed problems that need accountability and change.

[ryanlawlessuntapped]

People Who Live in Glass Arenas Shouldn't Throw Stones

I like deconstructing quotes. They are often misattributed, misworded, misguided, or misused. I like setting things right when I see any or all of those happen.

The following quote from Theodore Roosevelt is a good example of those last two observations. It’s often simply referred to as “The Man in the Arena” and has been cited by many, from Nelson Mandela to Richard Nixon. Maybe you are already familiar with it, but just in case you’re not:

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

Rousing, yes? Makes you feel like you can take on the world. Nice work, Teddy. You wrote a humdinger of a speech. Well, more likely an aide acting as a speechwriter did, but who’s keeping track at this point.

It’s actually only a small part of a larger text. 8743 words if I’m not mistaken, of which this oft-cited piece of rhetoric contributes a paltry 140 words. Less than 1% of the total text. 

It’s basically a Tweet.

I can almost guarantee that nobody quoting this paragraph knows much about the context it was delivered. They probably don’t care, either; it serves a narrow focus and that’s good enough.

Apropos of that narrow focus, the utility of this quote comes from its criticism of critics. Irony notwithstanding, this a useful tool to have when people say things about you that you don’t like. 

It helps if you’ve actually accomplished something, or at least attempted to accomplish something, but the quote works like a cross brandished against vampires. It’s meant to stave off anything even remotely unflattering about you or something you like. I mean, Miley Cyrus has it tattooed on her so it must have power, right?

The power to protect fragile egos. Most definitely.

See, criticism isn’t a bad thing. Name anything you love and I bet that it exists thanks to criticism. Here are a couple of easy examples that might appeal to some of my readers:

1. Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu created due to criticisms of Japanese jiu-jitsu not working for smaller practitioners who needed to be able to fight from their backs more effectively.

2. Heavy metal music created due to criticisms of rock music becoming soft and corporate at the time.

3. Mental health programs created due to criticisms of sanitariums and asylums and the inhumane and dehumanizing practices used on patients.

4. Marriage rights for same-sex partners created due to inequalities in hetero versus homosexual relationship rights.

5. Voting rights for women and minorities created due to gender and racial inequalities imposed on large segments of the population.

Should I go on? 

Because the list of things we have today that are vast improvements over what came before all did so because of criticism. 

“Man in the arena” or not, we owe a lot of high-quality innovations to the critics who weren’t afraid to say “You can do better. I can do better. We can do better.”

Which was ultimately the point of the speech in its entirety. Not the snippet that everyone knows as the “Man in the Arena” but the entire 8743 speech titled “Citizenship In A Republic” that Theodore Roosevelt gave on April 23, 1910, in Paris.

Also, it was never meant to be directed at criticism. It was an attack on cynicism.

Cynicism.

Not criticism.

In fact, it’s a better speech if you replace the word “critic” with “cynic” and read it that way. 

The cynic doesn’t count. 

They’re less than zeros.

However, the critic does count. 

The critics challenge the status quo. They might not innovate on their own, but they prompt innovation from others. The world moves forward thanks to criticism. 

Attacking critics with this quote is misguided and a misuse.

It’s an especially heinous misuse when someone trots it out because a critic got into that person’s feeling box.

It’s a deflection, not a counter. I always find that a little sad when I see it used for those reasons. Partly because the point of the speech, in its entirety, is that a nation is only as strong as its average citizen; it’s a takedown of individualism and a call to strengthened ties within a nation. (It’s also a bit of a love letter to France, but I’m not going to get into that part.)

I feel like I’ve already given enough information here to make my American readers dizzy and everyone else a little bit circumspect in the use of this quote the next time someone says something critical. Criticism has most definitely made the world around us better. Try to remember that critics aren’t the problem. 

Cynicism is.

And I can’t think of anything quite so cynical as repurposing a great quote to suit the needs of your moment because you don’t like what someone had to say about you or your beliefs. 

That’s an empty defense and, as Roosevelt said in the very same speech, “Woe to the empty phrase-maker...” 

P.S. Here is the full speech. The full speech, that is; not just the part you like. I dare you to read it.

Citizenship In A Republic

Strange and impressive associations rise in the mind of a man from the New World who speaks before this august body in this ancient institution of learning. Before his eyes pass the shadows of mighty kings and war-like nobles, of great masters of law and theology; through the shining dust of the dead centuries he sees crowded figures that tell of the power and learning and splendor of times gone by; and he sees also the innumerable host of humble students to whom clerkship meant emancipation, to whom it was well-nigh the only outlet from the dark thraldom of the Middle Ages.  This was the most famous university of mediaeval Europe at a time when no one dreamed that there was a New World to discover. Its services to the cause of human knowledge already stretched far back into the remote past at a time when my forefathers, three centuries ago, were among the sparse bands of traders, ploughmen, wood-choppers, and fisherfolk who, in hard struggle with the iron unfriendliness of the Indian-haunted land, were laying the foundations of what has now become the giant republic of the West. 

To conquer a continent, to tame the shaggy roughness of wild nature, means grim warfare; and the generations engaged in it cannot keep, still less add to, the stores of garnered wisdom which where once theirs, and which are still in the hands of their brethren who dwell in the old land. To conquer the wilderness means to wrest victory from the same hostile forces with which mankind struggled on the immemorial infancy of our race. 

The primaeval conditions must be met by the primaeval qualities which are incompatible with the retention of much that has been painfully acquired by humanity as through the ages it has striven upward toward civilization. In conditions so primitive there can be but a primitive culture. At first only the rudest school can be established, for no others would meet the needs of the hard-driven, sinewy folk who thrust forward the frontier in the teeth of savage men and savage nature; and many years elapse before any of these schools can develop into seats of higher learning and broader culture.  The pioneer days pass; the stump-dotted clearings expand into vast stretches of fertile farm land; the stockaded clusters of log cabins change into towns; the hunters of game, the fellers of trees, the rude frontier traders and tillers of the soil, the men who wander all their lives long through the wilderness as the heralds and harbingers of an oncoming civilization, themselves vanish before the civilization for which they have prepared the way. 

The children of their successors and supplanters, and then their children and their children and children's children, change and develop with extraordinary rapidity. 

The conditions accentuate vices and virtues, energy and ruthlessness, all the good qualities and all the defects of an intense individualism, self-reliant, self-centered, far more conscious of its rights than of its duties, and blind to its own shortcomings. 

To the hard materialism of the frontier days succeeds the hard materialism of an industrialism even more intense and absorbing than that of the older nations; although these themselves have likewise already entered on the age of a complex and predominantly industrial civilization.  As the country grows, its people, who have won success in so many lines, turn back to try to recover the possessions of the mind and the spirit, which perforce their fathers threw aside in order better to wage the first rough battles for the continent their children inherit. 

The leaders of thought and of action grope their way forward to a new life, realizing, sometimes dimly, sometimes clear-sightedly, that the life of material gain, whether for a nation or an individual, is of value only as a foundation, only as there is added to it the uplift that comes from devotion to loftier ideals. The new life thus sought can in part be developed afresh from what is roundabout in the New World; but it can developed in full only by freely drawing upon the treasure-houses of the Old World, upon the treasures stored in the ancient abodes of wisdom and learning, such as this is where I speak to-day. 

It is a mistake for any nation to merely copy another; but it is even a greater mistake, it is a proof of weakness in any nation, not to be anxious to learn from one another and willing and able to adapt that learning to the new national conditions and make it fruitful and productive therein. It is for us of the New World to sit at the feet of Gamaliel of the Old; then, if we have the right stuff in us, we can show that Paul in his turn can become a teacher as well as a scholar.  Today I shall speak to you on the subject of individual citizenship, the one subject of vital importance to you, my hearers, and to me and my countrymen, because you and we a great citizens of great democratic republics. A democratic republic such as ours - an effort to realize its full sense government by, of, and for the people - represents the most gigantic of all possible social experiments, the one fraught with great responsibilities alike for good and evil. The success or republics like yours and like ours means the glory, and our failure of despair, of mankind; and for you and for us the question of the quality of the individual citizen is supreme. 

Under other forms of government, under the rule of one man or very few men, the quality of the leaders is all-important. If, under such governments, the quality of the rulers is high enough, then the nations for generations lead a brilliant career, and add substantially to the sum of world achievement, no matter how low the quality of average citizen; because the average citizen is an almost negligible quantity in working out the final results of that type of national greatness. 

But with you and us the case is different. With you here, and with us in my own home, in the long run, success or failure will be conditioned upon the way in which the average man, the average women, does his or her duty, first in the ordinary, every-day affairs of life, and next in those great occasional cries which call for heroic virtues. The average citizen must be a good citizen if our republics are to succeed. 

The stream will not permanently rise higher than the main source; and the main source of national power and national greatness is found in the average citizenship of the nation. Therefore it behooves us to do our best to see that the standard of the average citizen is kept high; and the average cannot be kept high unless the standard of the leaders is very much higher.  It is well if a large proportion of the leaders in any republic, in any democracy, are, as a matter of course, drawn from the classes represented in this audience to-day; but only provided that those classes possess the gifts of sympathy with plain people and of devotion to great ideals. 

You and those like you have received special advantages; you have all of you had the opportunity for mental training; many of you have had leisure; most of you have had a chance for enjoyment of life far greater than comes to the majority of your fellows. To you and your kind much has been given, and from you much should be expected. 

Yet there are certain failings against which it is especially incumbent that both men of trained and cultivated intellect, and men of inherited wealth and position should especially guard themselves, because to these failings they are especially liable; and if yielded to, their- your- chances of useful service are at an end. 

Let the man of learning, the man of lettered leisure, beware of that queer and cheap temptation to pose to himself and to others as a cynic, as the man who has outgrown emotions and beliefs, the man to whom good and evil are as one. The poorest way to face life is to face it with a sneer. 

There are many men who feel a kind of twister pride in cynicism; there are many who confine themselves to criticism of the way others do what they themselves dare not even attempt. There is no more unhealthy being, no man less worthy of respect, than he who either really holds, or feigns to hold, an attitude of sneering disbelief toward all that is great and lofty, whether in achievement or in that noble effort which, even if it fails, comes to second achievement. 

A cynical habit of thought and speech, a readiness to criticise work which the critic himself never tries to perform, an intellectual aloofness which will not accept contact with life's realities - all these are marks, not as the possessor would fain to think, of superiority but of weakness. 

They mark the men unfit to bear their part painfully in the stern strife of living, who seek, in the affection of contempt for the achievements of others, to hide from others and from themselves in their own weakness. The rôle is easy; there is none easier, save only the rôle of the man who sneers alike at both criticism and performance.  It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat. 

Shame on the man of cultivated taste who permits refinement to develop into fastidiousness that unfits him for doing the rough work of a workaday world. Among the free peoples who govern themselves there is but a small field of usefulness open for the men of cloistered life who shrink from contact with their fellows. Still less room is there for those who deride of slight what is done by those who actually bear the brunt of the day; nor yet for those others who always profess that they would like to take action, if only the conditions of life were not exactly what they actually are. 

The man who does nothing cuts the same sordid figure in the pages of history, whether he be a cynic, or fop, or voluptuary. There is little use for the being whose tepid soul knows nothing of great and generous emotion, of the high pride, the stern belief, the lofty enthusiasm, of the men who quell the storm and ride the thunder. Well for these men if they succeed; well also, though not so well, if they fail, given only that they have nobly ventured, and have put forth all their heart and strength. It is war-worn Hotspur, spent with hard fighting, he of the many errors and valiant end, over whose memory we love to linger, not over the memory of the young lord who "but for the vile guns would have been a valiant soldier."  France has taught many lessons to other nations: surely one of the most important lesson is the lesson her whole history teaches, that a high artistic and literary development is compatible with notable leadership im arms and statecraft. The brilliant gallantry of the French soldier has for many centuries been proverbial; and during these same centuries at every court in Europe the "freemasons of fashion: have treated the French tongue as their common speech; while every artist and man of letters, and every man of science able to appreciate that marvelous instrument of precision, French prose, had turned toward France for aid and inspiration. 

How long the leadership in arms and letters has lasted is curiously illustrated by the fact that the earliest masterpiece in a modern tongue is the splendid French epic which tells of Roland's doom and the vengeance of Charlemange when the lords of the Frankish hosts where stricken at Roncesvalles. Let those who have, keep, let those who have not, strive to attain, a high standard of cultivation and scholarship. 

Yet let us remember that these stand second to certain other things. There is need of a sound body, and even more of a sound mind. But above mind and above body stands character - the sum of those qualities which we mean when we speak of a man's force and courage, of his good faith and sense of honor. I believe in exercise for the body, always provided that we keep in mind that physical development is a means and not an end. I believe, of course, in giving to all the people a good education. 

But the education must contain much besides book-learning in order to be really good. We must ever remember that no keenness and subtleness of intellect, no polish, no cleverness, in any way make up for the lack of the great solid qualities. Self restraint, self mastery, common sense, the power of accepting individual responsibility and yet of acting in conjunction with others, courage and resolution - these are the qualities which mark a masterful people. 

Without them no people can control itself, or save itself from being controlled from the outside. I speak to brilliant assemblage; I speak in a great university which represents the flower of the highest intellectual development; I pay all homage to intellect and to elaborate and specialized training of the intellect; and yet I know I shall have the assent of all of you present when I add that more important still are the commonplace, every-day qualities and virtues.  Such ordinary, every-day qualities include the will and the power to work, to fight at need, and to have plenty of healthy children. The need that the average man shall work is so obvious as hardly to warrant insistence. There are a few people in every country so born that they can lead lives of leisure. These fill a useful function if they make it evident that leisure does not mean idleness; for some of the most valuable work needed by civilization is essentially non-remunerative in its character, and of course the people who do this work should in large part be drawn from those to whom remuneration is an object of indifference. 

But the average man must earn his own livelihood. He should be trained to do so, and he should be trained to feel that he occupies a contemptible position if he does not do so; that he is not an object of envy if he is idle, at whichever end of the social scale he stands, but an object of contempt, an object of derision. In the next place, the good man should be both a strong and a brave man; that is, he should be able to fight, he should be able to serve his country as a soldier, if the need arises. 

There are well-meaning philosophers who declaim against the unrighteousness of war. They are right only if they lay all their emphasis upon the unrighteousness. War is a dreadful thing, and unjust war is a crime against humanity. But it is such a crime because it is unjust, not because it is a war. The choice must ever be in favor of righteousness, and this is whether the alternative be peace or whether the alternative be war. The question must not be merely, Is there to be peace or war? The question must be, Is it right to prevail? Are the great laws of righteousness once more to be fulfilled? And the answer from a strong and virile people must be "Yes," whatever the cost. 

Every honorable effort should always be made to avoid war, just as every honorable effort should always be made by the individual in private life to keep out of a brawl, to keep out of trouble; but no self-respecting individual, no self-respecting nation, can or ought to submit to wrong.  Finally, even more important than ability to work, even more important than ability to fight at need, is it to remember that chief of blessings for any nations is that it shall leave its seed to inherit the land. It was the crown of blessings in Biblical times and it is the crown of blessings now. The greatest of all curses in is the curse of sterility, and the severest of all condemnations should be that visited upon willful sterility. 

The first essential in any civilization is that the man and women shall be father and mother of healthy children, so that the race shall increase and not decrease. If that is not so, if through no fault of the society there is failure to increase, it is a great misfortune. 

If the failure is due to the deliberate and wilful fault, then it is not merely a misfortune, it is one of those crimes of ease and self-indulgence, of shrinking from pain and effort and risk, which in the long run Nature punishes more heavily than any other. If we of the great republics, if we, the free people who claim to have emancipated ourselves form the thraldom of wrong and error, bring down on our heads the curse that comes upon the willfully barren, then it will be an idle waste of breath to prattle of our achievements, to boast of all that we have done. No refinement of life, no delicacy of taste, no material progress, no sordid heaping up riches, no sensuous development of art and literature, can in any way compensate for the loss of the great fundamental virtues; and of these great fundamental virtues the greatest is the race's power to perpetuate the race. Character must show itself in the man's performance both of the duty he owes himself and of the duty he owes the state. 

The man's foremast duty is owed to himself and his family; and he can do this duty only by earning money, by providing what is essential to material well-being; it is only after this has been done that he can hope to build a higher superstructure on the solid material foundation; it is only after this has been done that he can help in his movements for the general well-being. He must pull his own weight first, and only after this can his surplus strength be of use to the general public. 

It is not good to excite that bitter laughter which expresses contempt; and contempt is what we feel for the being whose enthusiasm to benefit mankind is such that he is a burden to those nearest him; who wishes to do great things for humanity in the abstract, but who cannot keep his wife in comfort or educate his children.  Nevertheless, while laying all stress on this point, while not merely acknowledging but insisting upon the fact that there must be a basis of material well-being for the individual as for the nation, let us with equal emphasis insist that this material well-being represents nothing but the foundation, and that the foundation, though indispensable, is worthless unless upon it is raised the superstructure of a higher life. 

That is why I decline to recognize the mere multimillionaire, the man of mere wealth, as an asset of value to any country; and especially as not an asset to my own country. If he has earned or uses his wealth in a way that makes him a real benefit, of real use- and such is often the case- why, then he does become an asset of real worth. But it is the way in which it has been earned or used, and not the mere fact of wealth, that entitles him to the credit. There is need in business, as in most other forms of human activity, of the great guiding intelligences. Their places cannot be supplied by any number of lesser intelligences. 

It is a good thing that they should have ample recognition, ample reward. But we must not transfer our admiration to the reward instead of to the deed rewarded; and if what should be the reward exists without the service having been rendered, then admiration will only come from those who are mean of soul. The truth is that, after a certain measure of tangible material success or reward has been achieved, the question of increasing it becomes of constantly less importance compared to the other things that can be done in life. 

It is a bad thing for a nation to raise and to admire a false standard of success; and their can be no falser standard than that set by the deification of material well-being in and for itself. But the man who, having far surpassed the limits of providing for the wants; both of the body and mind, of himself and of those depending upon him, then piles up a great fortune, for the acquisition or retention of which he returns no corresponding benefit to the nation as a whole, should himself be made to feel that, so far from being desirable, he is an unworthy, citizen of the community: that he is to be neither admired nor envied; that his right-thinking fellow countrymen put him low in the scale of citizenship, and leave him to be consoled by the admiration of those whose level of purpose is even lower than his own.  My position as regards the moneyed interests can be put in a few words. In every civilized society property rights must be carefully safeguarded; ordinarily, and in the great majority of cases, human rights and property rights are fundamentally and in the long run identical; but when it clearly appears that there is a real conflict between them, human rights must have the upper hand, for property belongs to man and not man to property. 

In fact, it is essential to good citizenship clearly to understand that there are certain qualities which we in a democracy are prone to admire in and of themselves, which ought by rights to be judged admirable or the reverse solely from the standpoint of the use made of them. 

Foremost among these I should include two very distinct gifts - the gift of money-making and the gift of oratory. Money-making, the money touch I have spoken of above. It is a quality which in a moderate degree is essential. It may be useful when developed to a very great degree, but only if accompanied and controlled by other qualities; and without such control the possessor tends to develop into one of the least attractive types produced by a modern industrial democracy. 

So it is with the orator. 

It is highly desirable that a leader of opinion in democracy should be able to state his views clearly and convincingly. But all that the oratory can do of value to the community is enable the man thus to explain himself; if it enables the orator to put false values on things, it merely makes him power for mischief. Some excellent public servants have not that gift at all, and must merely rely on their deeds to speak for them; and unless oratory does represent genuine conviction based on good common sense and able to be translated into efficient performance, then the better the oratory the greater the damage to the public it deceives. 

Indeed, it is a sign of marked political weakness in any commonwealth if the people tend to be carried away by mere oratory, if they tend to value words in and for themselves, as divorced from the deeds for which they are supposed to stand. The phrase-maker, the phrase-monger, the ready talker, however great his power, whose speech does not make for courage, sobriety, and right understanding, is simply a noxious element in the body politic, and it speaks ill for the public if he has influence over them. To admire the gift of oratory without regard to the moral quality behind the gift is to do wrong to the republic.  Of course all that I say of the orator applies with even greater force to the orator's latter-day and more influential brother, the journalist. The power of the journalist is great, but he is entitled neither to respect nor admiration because of that power unless it is used aright. He cna do, and often does, great good. He can do, and he often does, infinite mischief. 

All journalists, all writers, for the very reason that they appreciate the vast possibilities of their profession, should bear testimony against those who deeply discredit it. Offenses against taste and morals, which are bad enough in a private citizen, are infinitely worse if made into instruments for debauching the community through a newspaper. Mendacity, slander, sensationalism, inanity, vapid triviality, all are potent factors for the debauchery of the public mind and conscience. 

The excuse advanced for vicious writing, that the public demands it and that demand must be supplied, can no more be admitted than if it were advanced by purveyors of food who sell poisonous adulterations. In short, the good citizen in a republic must realize that the ought to possess two sets of qualities, and that neither avails without the other. He must have those qualities which make for efficiency; and that he also must have those qualities which direct the efficiency into channels for the public good. He is useless if he is inefficient. 

There is nothing to be done with that type of citizen of whom all that can be said is that he is harmless. Virtue which is dependant upon a sluggish circulation is not impressive. There is little place in active life for the timid good man. The man who is saved by weakness from robust wickedness is likewise rendered immune from robuster virtues. The good citizen in a republic must first of all be able to hold his own. He is no good citizen unless he has the ability which will make him work hard and which at need will make him fight hard. The good citizen is not a good citizen unless he is an efficient citizen.  But if a man's efficiency is not guided and regulated by a moral sense, then the more efficient he is the worse he is, the more dangerous to the body politic. Courage, intellect, all the masterful qualities, serve but to make a man more evil if they are merely used for that man's own advancement, with brutal indifference to the rights of others. 

It speaks ill for the community if the community worships these qualities and treats their possessors as heroes regardless of whether the qualities are used rightly or wrongly. 

It makes no difference as to the precise way in which this sinister efficiency is shown. 

It makes no difference whether such a man's force and ability betray themselves in a career of money-maker or politician, soldier or orator, journalist or popular leader. 

If the man works for evil, then the more successful he is the more he should be despised and condemned by all upright and far-seeing men. To judge a man merely by success is an abhorrent wrong; and if the people at large habitually so judge men, if they grow to condone wickedness because the wicked man triumphs, they show their inability to understand that in the last analysis free institutions rest upon the character of citizenship, and that by such admiration of evil they prove themselves unfit for liberty. 

The homely virtues of the household, the ordinary workaday virtues which make the woman a good housewife and housemother, which make the man a hard worker, a good husband and father, a good soldier at need, stand at the bottom of character. But of course many other must be added thereto if a state is to be not only free but great. Good citizenship is not good citizenship if only exhibited in the home. 

There remains the duties of the individual in relation to the State, and these duties are none too easy under the conditions which exist where the effort is made to carry on the free government in a complex industrial civilization. Perhaps the most important thing the ordinary citizen, and, above all, the leader of ordinary citizens, has to remember in political life is that he must not be a sheer doctrinaire. 

The closest philosopher, the refined and cultured individual who from his library tells how men ought to be governed under ideal conditions, is of no use in actual governmental work; and the one-sided fanatic, and still more the mob-leader, and the insincere man who to achieve power promises what by no possibility can be performed, are not merely useless but noxious.  The citizen must have high ideals, and yet he must be able to achieve them in practical fashion. No permanent good comes from aspirations so lofty that they have grown fantastic and have become impossible and indeed undesirable to realize. The impractical visionary is far less often the guide and precursor than he is the embittered foe of the real reformer, of the man who, with stumblings and shortcoming, yet does in some shape, in practical fashion, give effect to the hopes and desires of those who strive for better things. 

Woe to the empty phrase-maker, to the empty idealist, who, instead of making ready the ground for the man of action, turns against him when he appears and hampers him when he does work! Moreover, the preacher of ideals must remember how sorry and contemptible is the figure which he will cut, how great the damage that he will do, if he does not himself, in his own life, strive measurably to realize the ideals that he preaches for others. 

Let him remember also that the worth of the ideal must be largely determined by the success with which it can in practice be realized. We should abhor the so-called "practical" men whose practicality assumes the shape of that peculiar baseness which finds its expression in disbelief in morality and decency, in disregard of high standards of living and conduct. Such a creature is the worst enemy of the body of politic. But only less desirable as a citizen is his nominal opponent and real ally, the man of fantastic vision who makes the impossible better forever the enemy of the possible good.  We can just as little afford to follow the doctrinaires of an extreme individualism as the doctrinaires of an extreme socialism. Individual initiative, so far from being discouraged, should be stimulated; and yet we should remember that, as society develops and grows more complex, we continually find that things which once it was desirable to leave to individual initiative can, under changed conditions, be performed with better results by common effort. It is quite impossible, and equally undesirable, to draw in theory a hard-and-fast line which shall always divide the two sets of cases. 

This every one who is not cursed with the pride of the closest philosopher will see, if he will only take the trouble to think about some of our closet phenomena. For instance, when people live on isolated farms or in little hamlets, each house can be left to attend to its own drainage and water-supply; but the mere multiplication of families in a given area produces new problems which, because they differ in size, are found to differ not only in degree, but in kind from the old; and the questions of drainage and water-supply have to be considered from the common standpoint. It is not a matter for abstract dogmatizing to decide when this point is reached; it is a matter to be tested by practical experiment. 

Much of the discussion about socialism and individualism is entirely pointless, because of the failure to agree on terminology. It is not good to be a slave of names. I am a strong individualist by personal habit, inheritance, and conviction; but it is a mere matter of common sense to recognize that the State, the community, the citizens acting together, can do a number of things better than if they were left to individual action. 

The individualism which finds its expression in the abuse of physical force is checked very early in the growth of civilization, and we of to-day should in our turn strive to shackle or destroy that individualism which triumphs by greed and cunning, which exploits the weak by craft instead of ruling them by brutality. We ought to go with any man in the effort to bring about justice and the equality of opportunity, to turn the tool-user more and more into the tool-owner, to shift burdens so that they can be more equitably borne. 

The deadening effect on any race of the adoption of a logical and extreme socialistic system could not be overstated; it would spell sheer destruction; it would produce grosser wrong and outrage, fouler immortality, than any existing system. But this does not mean that we may not with great advantage adopt certain of the principles professed by some given set of men who happen to call themselves Socialists; to be afraid to do so would be to make a mark of weakness on our part.  But we should not take part in acting a lie any more than in telling a lie. We should not say that men are equal where they are not equal, nor proceed upon the assumption that there is an equality where it does not exist; but we should strive to bring about a measurable equality, at least to the extent of preventing the inequality which is due to force or fraud. 

Abraham Lincoln, a man of the plain people, blood of their blood, and bone of their bone, who all his life toiled and wrought and suffered for them, at the end died for them, who always strove to represent them, who would never tell an untruth to or for them, spoke of the doctrine of equality with his usual mixture of idealism and sound common sense. He said (I omit what was of merely local significance): 

"I think the authors of the Declaration of Independence intended to include all men, but they did not mean to declare all men equal in all respects. They did not mean to say all men were equal in color, size, intellect, moral development or social capacity. They defined with tolerable distinctness in what they did consider all men created equal-equal in certain inalienable rights, among which are life, liberty and pursuit of happiness. This they said, and this they meant. 

They did not mean to assert the obvious untruth that all were actually enjoying that equality, or yet that they were about to confer it immediately upon them. They meant to set up a standard maxim for free society which should be familiar to all - constantly looked to, constantly labored for, and, even though never perfectly attained, constantly approximated, and thereby constantly spreading and deepening its influence, and augmenting the happiness and value of life to all people, everywhere."

We are bound in honor to refuse to listen to those men who would make us desist from the effort to do away with the inequality which means injustice; the inequality of right, opportunity, of privilege. We are bound in honor to strive to bring ever nearer the day when, as far is humanly possible, we shall be able to realize the ideal that each man shall have an equal opportunity to show the stuff that is in him by the way in which he renders service. There should, so far as possible, be equal of opportunity to render service; but just so long as there is inequality of service there should and must be inequality of reward. 

We may be sorry for the general, the painter, the artists, the worker in any profession or of any kind, whose misfortune rather than whose fault it is that he does his work ill. But the reward must go to the man who does his work well; for any other course is to create a new kind of privilege, the privilege of folly and weakness; and special privilege is injustice, whatever form it takes.  To say that the thriftless, the lazy, the vicious, the incapable, ought to have reward given to those who are far-sighted, capable, and upright, is to say what is not true and cannot be true. Let us try to level up, but let us beware of the evil of leveling down. If a man stumbles, it is a good thing to help him to his feet. Every one of us needs a helping hand now and then. 

But if a man lies down, it is a waste of time to try and carry him; and it is a very bad thing for every one if we make men feel that the same reward will come to those who shirk their work and those who do it. Let us, then, take into account the actual facts of life, and not be misled into following any proposal for achieving the millennium, for recreating the golden age, until we have subjected it to hardheaded examination. 

On the other hand, it is foolish to reject a proposal merely because it is advanced by visionaries. If a given scheme is proposed, look at it on its merits, and, in considering it, disregard formulas. It does not matter in the least who proposes it, or why. If it seems good, try it. If it proves good, accept it; otherwise reject it. 

There are plenty of good men calling themselves Socialists with whom, up to a certain point, it is quite possible to work. If the next step is one which both we and they wish to take, why of course take it, without any regard to the fact that our views as to the tenth step may differ. 

But, on the other hand, keep clearly in mind that, though it has been worth while to take one step, this does not in the least mean that it may not be highly disadvantageous to take the next. It is just as foolish to refuse all progress because people demanding it desire at some points to go to absurd extremes, as it would be to go to these absurd extremes simply because some of the measures advocated by the extremists were wise.  The good citizen will demand liberty for himself, and as a matter of pride he will see to it that others receive liberty which he thus claims as his own. Probably the best test of true love of liberty in any country in the way in which minorities are treated in that country. Not only should there be complete liberty in matters of religion and opinion, but complete liberty for each man to lead his life as he desires, provided only that in so he does not wrong his neighbor. 

Persecution is bad because it is persecution, and without reference to which side happens at the most to be the persecutor and which the persecuted. Class hatred is bad in just the same way, and without regard to the individual who, at a given time, substitutes loyalty to a class for loyalty to a nation, of substitutes hatred of men because they happen to come in a certain social category, for judgement awarded them according to their conduct. 

Remember always that the same measure of condemnation should be extended to the arrogance which would look down upon or crush any man because he is poor and to envy and hatred which would destroy a man because he is wealthy. 

The overbearing brutality of the man of wealth or power, and the envious and hateful malice directed against wealth or power, are really at root merely different manifestations of the same quality, merely two sides of the same shield. 

The man who, if born to wealth and power, exploits and ruins his less fortunate brethren is at heart the same as the greedy and violent demagogue who excites those who have not property to plunder those who have. 

The gravest wrong upon his country is inflicted by that man, whatever his station, who seeks to make his countrymen divide primarily in the line that separates class from class, occupation from occupation, men of more wealth from men of less wealth, instead of remembering that the only safe standard is that which judges each man on his worth as a man, whether he be rich or whether he be poor, without regard to his profession or to his station in life. Such is the only true democratic test, the only test that can with propriety be applied in a republic. 

There have been many republics in the past, both in what we call antiquity and in what we call the Middle Ages. They fell, and the prime factor in their fall was the fact that the parties tended to divide along the wealth that separates wealth from poverty. It made no difference which side was successful; it made no difference whether the republic fell under the rule of and oligarchy or the rule of a mob. 

In either case, when once loyalty to a class had been substituted for loyalty to the republic, the end of the republic was at hand. There is no greater need to-day than the need to keep ever in mind the fact that the cleavage between right and wrong, between good citizenship and bad citizenship, runs at right angles to, and not parallel with, the lines of cleavage between class and class, between occupation and occupation. Ruin looks us in the face if we judge a man by his position instead of judging him by his conduct in that position.  In a republic, to be successful we must learn to combine intensity of conviction with a broad tolerance of difference of conviction. Wide differences of opinion in matters of religious, political, and social belief must exist if conscience and intellect alike are not be stunted, if there is to be room for healthy growth. Bitter internecine hatreds, based on such differences, are signs, not of earnestness of belief, but of that fanaticism which, whether religious or anti-religious, democratic or anti-democratic, it itself but a manifestation of the gloomy bigotry which has been the chief factor in the downfall of so many, many nations.  Of one man in especial, beyond anyone else, the citizens of a republic should beware, and that is of the man who appeals to them to support him on the ground that he is hostile to other citizens of the republic, that he will secure for those who elect him, in one shape or another, profit at the expense of other citizens of the republic. It makes no difference whether he appeals to class hatred or class interest, to religious or antireligious prejudice. The man who makes such an appeal should always be presumed to make it for the sake of furthering his own interest. 

The very last thing an intelligent and self-respecting member of a democratic community should do is to reward any public man because that public man says that he will get the private citizen something to which this private citizen is not entitled, or will gratify some emotion or animosity which this private citizen ought not to possess. Let me illustrate this by one anecdote from my own experience. 

A number of years ago I was engaged in cattle-ranching on the great plains of the western Unite States. There were no fences. The cattle wandered free, the ownership of each one was determined by the brand; the calves were branded with the brand of the cows they followed. If on a round-up and animal was passed by, the following year it would appear as an unbranded yearling, and was then called a maverick. By the custom of the country these mavericks were branded with the brand of the man on whose range they were found. 

One day I was riding the range with a newly hired cowboy, and we came upon a maverick. We roped and threw it; then we built a fire, took out a cinch-ring, heated it in the fire; and then the cowboy started to put on the brand. 

I said to him, "It So-and-so's brand," naming the man on whose range we happened to be. He answered: "That's all right, boss; I know my business." 

In another moment I said to him: "Hold on, you are putting on my brand!" To which he answered: "That's all right; I always put on the boss's brand." 

I answered: "Oh, very well. Now you go straight back to the ranch and get whatever is owing to you; I don't need you any longer." 

He jumped up and said: "Why, what's the matter? I was putting on your brand." 

And I answered: "Yes, my friend, and if you will steal for me then you will steal from me."  Now, the same principle which applies in private life applies also in public life. If a public man tries to get your vote by saying that he will do something wrong in your interest, you can be absolutely certain that if ever it becomes worth his while he will do something wrong against your interest. 

So much for the citizenship to the individual in his relations to his family, to his neighbor, to the State. There remain duties of citizenship which the State, the aggregation of all the individuals, owes in connection with other States, with other nations. 

Let me say at once that I am no advocate of a foolish cosmopolitanism. I believe that a man must be a good patriot before he can be, and as the only possible way of being, a good citizen of the world. Experience teaches us that the average man who protests that his international feeling swamps his national feeling, that he does not care for his country because he cares so much for mankind, in actual practice proves himself the foe of mankind; that the man who says that he does not care to be a citizen of any one country, because he is the citizen of the world, is in fact usually and exceedingly undesirable citizen of whatever corner of the world he happens at the moment to be in. 

In the dim future all moral needs and moral standards may change; but at present, if a man can view his own country and all others countries from the same level with tepid indifference, it is wise to distrust him, just as it is wise to distrust the man who can take the same dispassionate view of his wife and mother. However broad and deep a man's sympathies, however intense his activities, he need have no fear that they will be cramped by love of his native land.  Now, this does not mean in the least that a man should not wish to good outside of his native land. On the contrary, just as I think that the man who loves his family is more apt to be a good neighbor than the man who does not, so I think that the most useful member of the family of nations is normally a strongly patriotic nation. 

So far from patriotism being inconsistent with a proper regard for the rights of other nations, I hold that the true patriot, who is as jealous of the national honor as a gentleman of his own honor, will be careful to see that the nations neither inflicts nor suffers wrong, just as a gentleman scorns equally to wrong others or to suffer others to wrong him. 

I do not for one moment admit that a man should act deceitfully as a public servant in his dealing with other nations, any more than he should act deceitfully in his dealings as a private citizen with other private citizens. I do not for one moment admit that a nation should treat other nations in a different spirit from that in which an honorable man would treat other men.  In practically applying this principle to the two sets of cases there is, of course, a great practical difference to be taken into account. We speak of international law; but international law is something wholly different from private of municipal law, and the capital difference is that there is a sanction for the one and no sanction for the other; that there is an outside force which compels individuals to obey the one, while there is no such outside force to compel obedience as regards to the other. International law will, I believe, as the generations pass, grow stronger and stronger until in some way or other there develops the power to make it respected. But as yet it is only in the first formative period. 

As yet, as a rule, each nation is of necessity to judge for itself in matters of vital importance between it and its neighbors, and actions must be of necessity, where this is the case, be different from what they are where, as among private citizens, there is an outside force whose action is all-powerful and must be invoked in any crisis of importance. It is the duty of wise statesman, gifted with the power of looking ahead, to try to encourage and build up every movement which will substitute or tend to substitute some other agency for force in the settlement of international disputes. 

It is the duty of every honest statesman to try to guide the nation so that it shall not wrong any other nation. But as yet the great civilized peoples, if they are to be true to themselves and to the cause of humanity and civilization, must keep in mind that in the last resort they must possess both the will and the power to resent wrong-doings from others. The men who sanely believe in a lofty morality preach righteousness; but they do not preach weakness, whether among private citizens or among nations. 

We believe that our ideals should be so high, but not so high as to make it impossible measurably to realize them. We sincerely and earnestly believe in peace; but if peace and justice conflict, we scorn the man who would not stand for justice though the whole world came in arms against him.  And now, my hosts, a word in parting. 

You and I belong to the only two republics among the great powers of the world. The ancient friendship between France and the United States has been, on the whole, a sincere and disinterested friendship. A calamity to you would be a sorrow to us. 

But it would be more than that.

In the seething turmoil of the history of humanity certain nations stand out as possessing a peculiar power or charm, some special gift of beauty or wisdom of strength, which puts them among the immortals, which makes them rank forever with the leaders of mankind. 

France is one of these nations. 

For her to sink would be a loss to all the world. There are certain lessons of brilliance and of generous gallantry that she can teach better than any of her sister nations. When the French peasantry sang of Malbrook, it was to tell how the soul of this warrior-foe took flight upward through the laurels he had won. Nearly seven centuries ago, Froissart, writing of the time of dire disaster, said that the realm of France was never so stricken that there were not left men who would valiantly fight for it. 

You have had a great past. I believe you will have a great future. Long may you carry yourselves proudly as citizens of a nation which bears a leading part in the teaching and uplifting of mankind.