From: http://www.unsolvedm...

He was in the first third grade class I taught at Saint Mary's School in Morris, Minnesota. All 34 of my students were dear to me, but Mark Eklund was one in a million. [He was] very neat in appearance but had that happy-to-be-alive attitude that made even his occasional mischieviousness delightful.

Mark talked incessantly. I had to remind him again and again that talking without permission was not acceptable. What impressed me so much, though, was his sincere response every time I had to correct him for misbehaving: "Thank you for correcting me, Sister!" I didn't know what to make of it at first, but before long I became accustomed to hearing it many times a day.

One morning my patience was growing thin when Mark talked once too often, and then I made a novice teacher's mistake. I looked at him and said, "If you say one more word, I am going to tape your mouth shut!"

It wasn't ten seconds later when Chuck blurted out, "Mark is talking again." I hadn't asked any of the students to help me watch Mark, but since I had stated the punishment in front of the class, I had to act on it.

I remember the scene as if it had occurred this morning. I walked to my desk, very deliberately opened my drawer and took out a roll of masking tape. Without saying a word, I proceeded to Mark's desk, tore off two pieces of tape and made a big X with them over his mouth. I then returned to the front of the room. As I glanced at Mark to see how he was doing, he winked at me. That did it! I started laughing. The class cheered as I walked back to Mark's desk, removed the tape and shrugged my shoulders. His first words were, "Thank you for correcting me, Sister."

At the end of the year I was asked to teach junior high math. The years flew by, and before I knew it Mark was in my classroom again. He was more handsome than ever and just as polite. Since he had to listen carefully to my instructions in the "new math," he did not talk as much in ninth grade as he had in the third.

One Friday, things just didn't feel right. We had worked hard on a new concept all week, and I sensed that the students were frowning, frustrated with themselves - and edgy with one another. I had to stop this crankiness before it got out of hand. So I asked them to list the names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a space between each name. Then I told them to think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down. It took the remainder of the class period to finish the assignment, and as the students left the room, each one handed me the papers. Charlie smiled. Mark said, "Thank you for teaching me, Sister. Have a good weekend."

That Saturday, I wrote down the name of each student on a separate sheet of paper, and I listed what everyone else had said about that individual. On Monday I gave each student his or her list. Before long, the entire class was smiling. "Really?" I heard whispered. "I never knew that meant anything to anyone!" "I didn't know others liked me so much!" No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. I never knew if they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it didn't matter. The exercise had accomplished its purpose. The students were happy with themselves and one another again.

That group of students moved on. Several years later, after I returned from vacation, my parents met me at the airport. As we were driving home, Mother asked me the usual questions about the trip - the weather, my experiences in general. There was a light lull in the conversation. Mother gave Dad a sideways glance and simply said, "Dad?" My father cleared his throat as he usually did before something important. "The Eklunds called last night," he began. "Really?" I said. "I haven't heard from them in years. I wonder how Mark is."

Dad responded quietly. "Mark was killed in Vietnam," he said. "The funeral is tomorrow, and his parents would like it if you could attend." To this day I can still point to the exact spot on I-494 where Dad told me about Mark.

I had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. Mark looked so handsome, so mature. All I could think at that moment was, Mark, I would give all the masking tape in the world if only you would talk to me. The church was packed with Mark's friends. Chuck's sister sang "The Battle Hymn of the Republic." Why did it have to rain on the day of the funeral? It was difficult enough at the graveside. The pastor said the usual prayers, and the bugler played taps. One by one those who loved Mark took a last walk by the coffin and sprinkled it with holy water.

I was the last one to bless the coffin. As I stood there, one of the soldiers who had acted as pallbearer came up to me. "Were you Mark's math teacher?" he asked. I nodded as I continued to stare at the coffin. "Mark talked about you a lot," he said.

After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmates headed to Chuck's farmhouse for lunch. Mark's mother and father were there, obviously waiting for me. "We want to show you something," his father said, taking a wallet out of his pocket. "They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might recognize it."

Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times. I knew without looking that the papers were the ones on which I had listed all the good things each of Mark's classmates had said about him. "Thank you so much for doing that," Mark's mother said. "As you can see, Mark treasured it."

Mark's classmates started to gather around us. Charlie smiled rather sheepishly and said, "I still have my list. It's in the top drawer of my desk at home." Chuck's wife said, "Chuck asked me to put this in our wedding album." "I have mine too," Marilyn said. "It's in my diary." Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group. "I carry this with me at all times," Vicki said, without batting an eyelash. "I think we all saved our lists."

That's when I finally sat down and cried. I cried for Mark and for all his friends who would never see him again.

  There was once a town full of butter colored puppies, that played and romped and warmed themselves in the sun. The furry fuzzy bunnies would come to visit and leave happy funny rubber balls for the butter colored puppies to play with. The warm lovelies unicorms visited twice a day to give the butter colored puppies plates of yummy juicy steak to feast on. They puppies were content and happy.

  Then the Llort came along and ripped butter colored puppies from their home and dropped them in a hot dry dusty desert to slowly die of thirst and heat.

  Visuals here.

Sincerely,

a Veteran of a 1000 psychic wars.

Did nwahs lie again today or was it yet another half truth.

nwahs: Last week Rush said conservatives are like the Delta House fraternity from Animal House. Conservatives are the bawdy misfit fraternity mooning the elitists.

I have caught nwahs falsely attributing things to Rush Limbaugh that he did not say. Is this the case again today? Why I believe it is. LIAR. NWAHS LIES AGAIN>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I do believe that makes nwahs a liar yet again.

September 26, 2009 - 15:40 ET by JWF

nwahs: ...Rush said conservatives are like the Delta House fraternity from Animal House. 

Rush Limbaugh: ...the rest of us are just a bunch of Blutarsky slobs not smart enough or cool enough to be in their fraternity. 

Blutarsky was in Delta House, he was not the entire fraternity.

You lying again nwahs just to distort Rush for your own petty reasons? 

This is the second distortion we have heard about Rush Limbaugh from the LYING LIAR NWAHS. Why does nwahs intentionally distort what Rush Limbaugh says when the actual quotes are so easy to find/

Sincerely,

a Veteran of a 1000 psychic wars.  

Sincerely,

a Veteran of a 1000 psychic wars.

It is called the nwahs fake outrage game. You claim faux outrage at some of the loony ramblings from nwahs. I'll show you how.

nwahs: All sorts of deviants managed to hide themselves in the guise of hippies in the late 60's and 70's. 

How dare you insult hippies! My dad was a hippie and died in a freak rollover accident in a VW microbus in 1972! The audacity!

nwahs: President Bush spends money like a neurotic woman feeling a little fat.

How dare you insult neurotic fat women! My sister has been in a mental hospital since 1983 with neurosis and she is fat. Shame on you.

nwahs: Women have been slapping you around some eh?

How dare yo make fun of spousal abuse! My sister abused my brother-in-law before she was commited to the mental hospital.

My apologies nwahs if you were looking for something more uplifting. But some stories touch the heart in other ways.

This is a story that makes me feel sad every time I think about it. Yet it has a powerful message. The adaptation was very well done and the difference between the darkness and the day of sunlight was so strikingly filmed, that this in itself made a powerful statement. I think the linked article tells the story well enough that I won't bother to add much except to note that envy can be a very destructive power.

"The problem with socialism is that eventually you run out
of other people's money."

—Margaret Thatcher

Who better to espouse on life than a person who is dying. This is a long clip compared to the others ( about an hour and 15 minutes), but a very entertaining lecture about life and the part pursuing dreams/goals play in it. If you cut out a few key segments, you would never know it was delivered by a terminally ill man because it is so much about life.

http://www.youtube.c...

Looks like this

and this

It sounds like this

and this

and this

And a lot of times like this

  aka How to push nwahs the Llort's button.

How about the story of the Llort.

September 26, 2009 - 12:09 ET by JWF

   There once was this Llort that terrorised an entire community of people. It is the story of the two-faced Llort. He walked around town and lied and told half-truths and hijacked peoples conversations with his obsession with his absolute hatred for the town crier, Hsur Hguabmil. But the truth was the Llort had a teenybopper crush on Hsur and was angered that Hsur did not return his affections. So he took out his anger on the townpeople.

   Every now and then, the townpeople would rise up and kill the more viscious Llorts and the two-faced Llort would get scared. So he would sneak into the Smurof, the basement of the Town Hall. The Llort would leave little messages of love, and baskets of biscuits. That way, when an angry mob of townspeople would corner him and get ready for all the clubbing. The Llort would scream out, but I am a useful Llort! And the townspeople would let him go.

  But eventually, the townspeople caught on to his lying two faced ways and trapped him, skinned him alive, stretched his entrails out in front of his dying eyes and then had him drawn and quartered.  They then let the towns oldest Naretev pound on the Llort pieces for a while as everyone stood around and laughed. Then they buried the various pieces of the Llort in the town cesspool.

  The full story is here.

Sincerely,

a Veteran of a 1000 psychic wars.

    Look. nwahs has a home movie. Discuss.

nwahs: I am not a troll. I'm a jerk.

nwahs entire gene pool on display - cry at the burden on humanity they place on us all

I just saw a story on the CBS evening news of this very amazing little boy. This kid has more guts in his little finger than I have in my whole body.

http://www.youtube.c...

http://www.cbsnews.c...

He's a hero in my book. He's the good part of humanity.

A short debunking dictionary for nwahs troll speech

what the nwahs troll says
what he really means

Abuse:
Responding to his blabbering

Aggressive:
Person who doesn't agree with him

Argument:
Something he dreams of someday winning

Art:
Plagiarism

Articles:
Screed

Best-seller:
500,000th place on Amazon

Borrow:
Steal

Businesses:
His scams

Data (academic):
Bogus partisan research

Data (dubious):
Data contradicting his statements

Defamation:
Pointing out his lies and mistakes

Defeated:
Declared victory by repeating screed

Do you follow me?:
You are a cretin.

Do you understand?:
Do you accept my argument unconditionally?

Enlightenment:
Confusion

Facts:
Opinions

Fan:
lackey

Good/Bad:
Completely subjective labels

Harassment:
Replying to his accusations

Happy:
Angry

Humble:
Narcisstic

Insignificant:
Something that he doesn't like to hear

Integrity:
Null concept when applied to himself

Irrelevant:
I have no answer to that

Leaving forever:
I'll be back in a minute

Let's turn to something concrete:
This argument annoys me.

Logical arguments:
Incoherent, plagiarized screed

Marginal:
I have no answer to that

Modesty:
Boasting just one of my many qualities

Never lied:
Have a nose longer than Pinocchio

Freak:
Responding and disagreeing with him

Off-topic:
Something that he doesn't like to hear

Powerful arguments:
Incoherent babbling

Predicted:
Postdicted

Proof:
Baseless assertions

Published author:
Illiterate nobody

Punk:
Someone who disagrees with him

Publish:
Plagiarize

Researched:
Plagiarized

Referenced:
Plagiarized with loads of bogus indexes

Negative attitude:
Someone who disagrees with him

Success:
Failure and disgrace

Theory:
Babbles pulled out of his ass

Truth:
Load of delusional rantings

Unaffected:
Obsessing over it night and day

Undefeated:
I'm in denial

Trivia:
Any claims he won't back up

You are partly right:
You are wrong

You are wrong:
You are right, but I cannot admit it

Waste of resources:
Anything not favorable for his own scam projects

Win:
Proclaim victory and run away

Where do see a resentment to white people?September 14, 2009 - 10:19 ET by nwahs

 Are you a fool, or just a bigot who can't stand to see his little fairy tale intruded on with facts? The judge looked to be Asian - not Caucasian. Nothing I've ever written shows resentment to white people. Thats a made up idiotic statement because you lack anything better.

Politics is showbiz for ugly people

• reply

He might've have made oneSeptember 14, 2009 - 13:57 ET by bretzysdude

He might've have made one idiotic statement.  Your posts are full of more than one.

• reply