I'm a monoglot?!?

So I look in the dictionary and see the word "monoglot." Of course, this striking word sharpened my curiosity, and made me eager to find out the meaning of it (who isn't drawn to the catchy word similar to that of "monopod"). I read the dismal definition that only too well fit me: monoglot - a person who only knows one language.
With a sigh, I put the dictionary aside, and wonder, is a person who knows more than one language called a polyglot?

Paragraph = a pair of love sick graphs.

What is Nothing?

I was thinking - this is a very dangerous pastime - and was wondering if I could write a story in which I create a world that has no God. I was wondering what this world would be like: so empty and dry with nothing worth living for.
After all, mankind was made to worship God. We see this in all of history, that even if someone didn't worship God, they had to worship someone or something, because they were made to worship Someone. Thus they worshiped idols and statues and other odd things.
Then it occurred to me that it this world would be empty indeed, not because there was no God, but because there was no world. If there is no God, there can be no world; there would be Nothing, not an atom, nor a particle of air.... absolutely nothing!
This then raised the question, What is Nothing?
When the word Nothing comes to mind, I picture an empty corner in our living room.... But that corner is something! Then I think of the air around me.... But the air is something! Next comes to mind utter darkness, in which there is no form of life or air, or unseen thing. Problem is, the darkness is a color, and all I am seeing is empty space.
Nothing has no color, no form, takes up no space, is nothing! But this is odd, if Nothing is nothing, how can it have the above characteristics? Nothing is something, too!
I could go on and on, caught up in this baffling thinking. But I shall not. I shall rejoice that there is a God; that He has made the world, and people like me; and that (I am sure!) He takes delight in seeing us trying to figure things out.
Some questions are unanswerable. I think this question is one of them.....

The Intervert's cry

Posed in front of the computer,
Listening to endless chatter, laughter
All surrounding me;
I wonder what I'm s'posed to be
Doing.

Alone in the corner,
My face like a mourner's;
Will some one talk to me?
I wonder what I'm s'posed to be
Saying.

Of course I do not have that thought,
That to have some one talk to me, I ought
To speak to them first, so they'll speak to me....
I wonder what I'm s'posed to be
Doing.

By the way, this is not supposed to make sense.... This is the kind of thing I write when I've been twirling kids around in circles and chasing them around all day (not to mention that I went to bed late the night before), and am feeling tired and increative, and needing to write a blog post.....

The example below came to me about a year ago, and has had my thinking in circles ever since. I would call it circular reasoning, were it not that this example can be resolved logically in the end.

<<>>

We will pretend that a person named Ruth said, "I have such a good conscience that every time I tell a lie, I have to confess it the very next minute." Then she adds quickly, "Whoops, that was a lie!"
The question is, Did she just lie? And if so, which of her statements was the lie? You might easily say that it is the first one, for she admits that she lied by saying it. But then she has just confessed it in the next minute, therefore proving her first statement to be true. This would mean her second statement was a lie.
If her first statement was true, and her second one a lie, than she would confess the very next moment that saying, "whoops, that was a lie," was a lie. And since she does not confess it, than we must assume that the first statement is true.
By then, we are back to the beginning......

We could resolve it partly be saying that the first statement is a lie, in that, Ruth does not tell the truth the very next moment every time, and therefore her confession in her second statement is true.

Q and A: Cotton Socks

Question: Why do heavy cotton socks tend to soak up water?

Answer: Because they're thirsty. Give them a drink once in a while.

The New Definition of.... MACARONI

Macaroni: Mac-ar-on-i

First we translate :Mac= Mac; Ar= our; On= own; I= Eek
Now we compile the words, and find that a different explanation than usual is needed, for "mac are own eek," doesn't make sense. However, there is a story behind this puzzling phrase.
The story goes that a woman was making pasta for the first time. She had just tenderly laid it out to dry, and called to her son Mac. "Look! Mac, our own-" she was going to say "pasta" but she spotted a bug in the very midst of the pasta and shrieked, "Eek!"
Mac looked at her in surprise. "Macaroneek? An ingenious noodle!"
Since then, "macaroneek" has been shortened to "macaroni." People all across the world eat this pasta, little knowing its history......

The Legend of the "Key to Tears."

Long, long ago, when the earth was still young and the Indians roamed about America, there was a certain Indian chief. This certain Indian chief went under the name of Ralph. And Ralph was the chief of a big tribe.
Ralph had a beautiful daughter named Shallot. Shallot was kind and loving, compassionate to strangers, and always wanting to help others. Many of the braves loved her, and tried to gain her favor.
When Ralph saw an Indian sew a hundred pairs of shoes for Shallot after she expressed the desire for twenty to give to a poor Indian family living on the edge of the wood, he rolled his eyes, and felt that something ought to be done. He finally issued a decree that anyone that could make him cry could have his daughter as a wife.
Everyone knew that Ralph had never cried; not when he was a little boy lost in the woods; not when his father had died last year; not when his kingdom had been threatened by the fierce tribe on the border of his tribe, that had ended in his wife's assassin; never!
This worried the braves, and they wondered how on earth they could induce him to cry. Day after day, they would come, sit in front of the chief and tell the saddest tales they could imagine, stare at his eyes in the hopes they would water (the result of which, made their vision blurry), and anything else they could think of.
One day, when Ralph was beginning to feel tired of all of the visitors, and was just about to retire to do some hunting, a young farmer hurried in.
"Can I see you for just a moment?" he begged.
"Speak," Ralph said, inwardly sighing.
"I have what I believe to be the key to tears," the farmer said. He reached in his jacket and pulled out a knife and a small, round vegetable. this he cut in two, and handed half of it to the chief. "Smell this," he said.
Ralph sniffed it and felt a curious sensation. His eyes stung!
"Sniff it again," the farmer said, so Ralph did so. This time, his eyes grew watery. "Sniff it a third time," the farmer said, and Ralph obeyed. Tears started to slowly pour out of his eyes.
"What is that?" Ralph sobbed, pointing to the vegetable.
"I don't know. Something I discovered on my farmland."
"And what are you called?" Ralph asked.
"They call me Red Onion, sir."
"Then this also shall be called Red Onion," Ralph said, pointing to the vegetable. "You have won. Go call my daughter."
The wedding feast that evening was very great, and amongst the platters of food, a bowl of grilled onions sat in the place of honor.
Red Onion and Shallot lived in the merry tribe happily ever after.
The end.
Copyright/Curious Cognitive Content/August 6, 2008