Dancing through life...

Forgot to post this yesterday. I got distracted by my new Lens Baby!

Eight-year-old Virginia O'Hanlon wrote a letter to the editor of New York's Sun, and the quick response was printed as an unsigned editorial Sept. 21, 1897. The work of veteran newsman Francis Pharcellus Church has since become history's most reprinted newspaper editorial, appearing in part or whole in dozens of languages in books, movies, and other editorials, and on posters and stamps.




"DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old.
"Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.
"Papa says, 'If you see it in THE SUN it's so.'
"Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?

"VIRGINIA O'HANLON.
"115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET."

VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except [what] they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

"Because no one has the right to deny another their life, even though they disagree with it, because everyone has the right to live the life they so desire if it doesn't harm another and because discrimination has no place in America, my vote will be for equality and against Proposition 8," - Brad Pitt.

He's talking about the vote that's coming up in California on whether or not gays should have the right to marry.

I liked him as an actor before, and I like him even more now.

Eight-year-old Virginia O'Hanlon wrote a letter to the editor of New York's Sun, and the quick response was printed as an unsigned editorial Sept. 21, 1897. The work of veteran newsman Francis Pharcellus Church has since become history's most reprinted newspaper editorial, appearing in part or whole in dozens of languages in books, movies, and other editorials, and on posters and stamps.




"DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old.
"Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.
"Papa says, 'If you see it in THE SUN it's so.'
"Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?

"VIRGINIA O'HANLON.
"115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET."

VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except [what] they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

I’m coming, I’m coming home to you
I’m alive, I’m a mess
I can’t wait to get home to you
To get warm, warm and undressed

There’ve been changes beyond my dreams
Everybody wants me to sing
There’ve been changes beyond my grasp
Things I’m sinking in

So keep me, keep me in your bed all day, all day
Nothing heals me like you do
Nothing heals me like you do

And when somebody knows you well
Well, there’s no comfort like that
And when somebody needs you
Well, there’s no drug like that

So keep me, keep me in your bed all day, all day
Nothing heals me like you do
Nothing heals me like you do

And when I’m home, curled in your arms
And I’m safe again
I’ll close my eyes and sleep, sleep
To the sound of London rain

So keep me, keep me in your bed all day, all day
Nothing heals me like you do
So keep me, keep me in your bed all day, all day
Nothing heals me like you do
Nothing heals me like you do

Nothing falls like London rain
Nothing heals me like you do
Nothing falls like London rain
Nothing heals me like you do
Nothing falls like London rain
Nothing heals me like you do
Nothing falls like London rain
Nothing heals me like you do

SO sleeping in tomorrow...

"I Want to be Sedated" by the Ramones

Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go
I wanna be sedated
Nothing to do
Nowhere to go
I Wanna be sedated
Just get me to the airport
And put me on a plane
Hurry hurry hurry before I go insane
I can't control my fingers
I can't control my brain
Oh no oh no
Just put me in a wheelchair
And get me to the show
Hurry hurry hurry before I go loco
I can't control my fingers
I can't control my toes
Oh no oh no

Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go
I wanna be sedated
Nothing to do
Nowhere to go
I Wanna be sedated
Just get me to the airport
And put me on a plane
Hurry hurry hurry before I go insane
I can't control my fingers
I can't control my brain
Oh no oh no
Just put me in a wheelchair
And get me to the show
Hurry hurry hurry before I go loco
I can't control my fingers
I can't control my toes
Oh no oh no

"I Want to be Sedated" by The Ramones
Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go
I wanna be sedated
Nothing to do
Nowhere to go
I Wanna be sedated
Just get me to the airport
And put me on a plane
Hurry hurry hurry before I go insane
I can't control my fingers
I can't control my brain
Oh no oh no
Just put me in a wheelchair
And get me to the show
Hurry hurry hurry before I go loco
I can't control my fingers
I can't control my toes
Oh no oh no