[86884] in Discussion of MIT-community interests
Never Pay Full Price for Printer Ink Again!
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (Printer Ink)
Tue Aug 16 00:02:33 2016
Date: Mon, 15 Aug 2016 23:54:49 -0400
From: "Printer Ink" <printer.ink@lozareststop.com>
To: <mit-talk-mtg@charon.mit.edu>
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<title>Never Pay Full Price for Printer Ink Again!</title>=20
<h1>Never Pay Full Price for Printer Ink Again!</h1>=20
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<p>To die:--to sleep,--To sleep! perchance to dream:--ay, there's the ru=
b; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, When we have, shuffled =
off this mortal coil, Must give us pause." "Do you realize that I=
ngersoll, by his teachings and his denunciations of what he termed the 'abs=
urdities of orthodox religious beliefs,' has done more toward shaking faith=
in many church doctrines than any man of this age'? And, after all, is not=
his doctrine a sane one? He says, in effect: 'I can not believe these thin=
gs. My reason revolts at them. They are repugnant to my intellect. I can no=
t believe that a just God will punish one of His creatures for an honest op=
inion.' He denies that there is such a God as the churches hold out to us. =
He denies that the world was created in six days; that man was created in t=
he manner described in the Bible, and that woman was created from man's rib=
He denies that miracles were ever performed, or that there was any eviden=
ce, reliable or authoritative, that they were ever performed. And yet he do=
es not deny the existence of a future life. His doctrine on this point is, =
'I know only the history of the past and the happenings of the present. I d=
o not know, nor does any man know, anything of the future. Let us hope ther=
e is a life beyond the grave.' "The old poet, Omar, argues against a f=
uture life. You will recall these lines: "'Strange, is it not, that of=
the multitudes who Before us pass'd the door of Darkness through, Not one =
returns to tell us of the Road, Which to discover we must travel, too.'&quo=
t; "The churches tell us we must have faith to be saved, but the great=
minds of the present age are not satisfied, any more than many of the grea=
t minds of the past were satisfied, to admit as a matter of faith the whole=
foundation of the Christian religion." "People want to be shown.=
They are not willing to rely upon poorly authenticated stories of what occ=
urred several thousand years ago. The question presents itself to us: Is th=
e world better, for its present beliefs than it formerly was, when religion=
was a matter of statute People may not be as religious as they once were, =
but they are certainly more humane. Women are no longer slaves, chattels, w=
ith unfeeling husbands. Slavery itself no longer exists in any civilized na=
tion. Polygamy is not practiced to the extent that it was in Biblical days.=
The world progressed as fear ceased to rule the human mind." "Bu=
t, pardon me," he added with infinite grace and a charming wave of. hi=
s hand, "you see your question has aroused in me the failing of the pe=
dagogue. I have said more than I had intended." "How do your peop=
le," I asked, "look upon the material progress of the age?" =
"They are astounded," he answered. "Since the Modoc War many=
of my people have prospered. You have seen their farms, their houses, and =
noted their occupations. They are rich in lands and stock, and even in mone=
y. They have many comforts and even many luxuries in their homes. Some of t=
hem have traveled extensively, and they come back filled with awe and admir=
ation with what the white man has done and is doing. I read the modern pres=
s, and many scientific works, and I am satisfied that man will fly in a few=
years more. Already the automobile is displacing the domestic animals. The=
telephone was a great triumph of science, next in importance to steam loco=
motion. But, are your people as happy with your modern methods, your crowde=
d cities, your strenuous existence, as your forefathers were, who led the s=
imple life? And where is this mad scramble, not for wealth alone, not for p=
ower but for mere existence, nothing more, that the human race is engaged i=
n, going to end? Can you tell me? Take America, one of the newest civilized=
lands of the earth, how long will it be before her coal measures are exhau=
sted? Her iron ores exhausted? Her forests will soon be a thing of the past=
Already you hear complaints that her fertile lands are not yielding as th=
ey once did, and your population is constantly increasing. With coal gone, =
with iron gone, with the land poverty stricken to a point where profitable =
production of cereals can no longer be had, what is to become of your teemi=
ng millions?" The Awakening. I assured him I could not answer these qu=
estions. That I had asked myself the same things a thousand times, and no a=
nswer came to me. I handed the professor another cigar. He lit it. Just the=
n an old Indian woman clad in a calico wrapper, but bareheaded and barefoot=
ed, came down the road towards us. She stopped some fifty feet away, and in=
a shy, low voice, but in good English, she called him. "Papa, did you=
catch me a fish for dinner?" The professor turned his head, and seein=
g her, said to me, "Ah, here is my guardian angel, my wife," and =
then to her, holding up his trout, he said, "Yes, I have it. I am comi=
ng now." He arose, held out a dirty hand for me to shake, and in parti=
ng, said, "My dear sir, you can not imagine how much I have enjoyed ou=
r chance meeting, resulting from your poor pronunciation of two Indian word=
s. When you return to your civilized surroundings, ask yourself, 'Are any o=
f this mad throng as happy as the Indian I met at the Killican'." He j=
oined his wife, and the aged pair passed into a brush hut beneath some stat=
ely pines. I, too, turned toward the wagon which was to carry me back to ca=
mp, meditating long and deeply on the remarks of this strolling compound of=
savagery and education. Environment is largely responsible for man's condi=
tion. Here was a man who had acquired considerable knowledge of the world a=
nd books, he was still a savage in his manner of life and in his habits. Hi=
s manner of talking was forceful and natural, and his command of language r=
emarkable. The ease and abandon with which he wielded the arguments of thos=
e who rail against the existence of a Divine Being would lead one, listenin=
g to him, to imagine himself in the lecture-room of some modern university.=
A Great Day's Sport on Warner's Ranch. Think of three days in the open! Th=
ree glorious days in the sunshine! "Far from the madding crowd!" =
Far from the rush and stir and whirl and hum of business! Far from the McNa=
mara horror, and its sickening aftermath of jury bribing! A short time ago,=
whirling over good roads and bad roads, through orange groves with their l=
oads of fruit, rapidly assuming golden hues; through miles and miles of vin=
eyards, now 'reft of all leaves, vineyards in which the pruners were alread=
y busily at work; past acres and acres of ground being prepared for grain; =
through wooded canyons and pine-screened vales; ascending from almost sea l=
evel to upwards of 3000 feet--a party of us went to Warner's Ranch after th=
e famous canvasback ducks. We left my home at 7:30 o'clock a. m., some of u=
s in my machine, and two of the party in a runabout. Filled with the ambiti=
on of youth, the driver of the latter car reached Mr. William Newport's pla=
ce in the Perris Valley, a run of seventy-six miles, in two hours and twent=
y minutes. We jogged along, reaching Newport's in three hours, and found th=
e exultant, speed-crazed fiend waiting for us. He was loud in the praise of=
his speedy run. Of all of this take note a little later in the story. We l=
unched with Mr. Newport, and then took him with us. What a day it was! A ra=
diant, dry, winter day! The whole earth was flooded with sunshine. Not a cl=
oud was in the sky. The air was full of snap and electric energy. The atmos=
phere absolutely clear. We wound in and out of the canyons, over dry and ru=
nning streams, always ascending, climbing the eastern shoulder of Mt. Palom=
ar, not to the top, but to a pass by which the ranch is reached. Before 4 o=
'clock we were on Warner's Ranch. This property could well be described as =
the "Pamir" of Southern California. True, its elevation is but sl=
ight compared with the 16,000 feet of that great Asiatic country, bearing t=
he name of "Pamir," where roams in all his freedom the true "=
;Ovis Poli" or "Big Horn." The ranch comprises about 57,000 =
acres of land, and is the largest body of comparatively level land at even =
an elevation of 3500 feet in Southern California. It is an immense circular=
valley, rock ribbed and mountain bound. Out of it, through a narrow gorge =
to the southwest, flows the San Luis Rey River. The ranch is well watered. =
Much of it during the winter season is semi-bog or swamp land, and at all t=
imes affords wonderful grazing for stock. There are circling hills and leve=
l mesas and broad valleys here and there. Nestled between the hills are a n=
umber of mountain lakes, fed by innumerable springs around their edges. The=
se lakes furnish food for the canvasback duck in the various grasses and ot=
her growths, of which they are extremely fond. First Bag. Contrary to good =
judgment, we drove to one of these lakes, and had half an hour's shooting t=
hat evening. We got about twenty birds. We proceeded to the hotel, and afte=
r drawing our birds, hung them up where they would freeze that night and no=
t be in the sun while we were shooting next day. A cold north wind was blow=
ing, which whistled mournfully through the cottonwoods, and suggested a nig=
ht where plenty of blankets would be more than acceptable.</p>=20
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