This is a good time to share this poem with everyone:
I saw them tearing a building down. A team of men in my hometown. With a heave and a ho and a yes yes yell, they swung a beam and a sidewall fell.
And I said to the foreman, "Are these men skilled?" "Like the ones you'd use if you had to build?"
And he laughed and said, "Oh no, indeed... the most common labor is all I need... for I can destroy in a day or two what takes a builder ten years to do."
So I thought to myself as I went on my way...
Which one of these roles am I willing to play?
Am I one who is tearing down as I carelessly make my way around? Or am I one who builds with care, in order to make the world a little better... because I was there?
anon
No one likes seeing their country destroyed. No one likes seeing their culture destroyed. No one likes seeing that which they've worked for destroyed.
This principle also applies to Voat.
Each of us is either a builder or a destroyer.
Choose your side, because I've chosen mine. Voat will support those who build.
Interpret this post however you'd like, because at it's root it is truth, but I'm posting this for those of us that need a reminder from time to time.
view the rest of the comments →
crazy_eyes ago
A farmer and his son had a beloved stallion who helped the family earn a living. One day, the horse ran away and their neighbors exclaimed, “Your horse ran away, what terrible luck!” The farmer replied, “Maybe so, maybe not. We’ll see.”
A few days later, the horse returned home, leading a few wild mares back to the farm as well. The neighbors shouted out, “Your horse has returned, and brought several horses home with him. What great luck!” The farmer replied, “Maybe so, maybe not. We’ll see.”
Later that week, the farmer’s son was trying to break one of the mares and she threw him to the ground, breaking his leg. The villagers cried, “Your son broke his leg, what terrible luck!” The farmer replied, “Maybe so, maybe not. We’ll see.”
A few weeks later, soldiers from the national army marched through town, recruiting all the able-bodied boys for the army. They did not take the farmer’s son, still recovering from his injury. Friends shouted, “Your boy is spared, what tremendous luck!” To which the farmer replied, “Maybe so, maybe not. We’ll see.”
The moral of this story, is, of course, that no event, in and of itself, can truly be judged as good or bad, lucky or unlucky, fortunate or unfortunate, but that only time will tell the whole story. Additionally, no one really lives long enough to find out the ‘whole story,’ so it could be considered a great waste of time to judge minor inconveniences as misfortunes or to invest tons of energy into things that look outstanding on the surface, but may not pay off in the end.
The wiser thing, then, is to live life in moderation, keeping as even a temperament as possible, taking all things in stride, whether they originally appear to be ‘good’ or ‘bad.’ Life is much more comfortable and comforting if we merely accept what we’re given and make the best of our life circumstances. Rather than always having to pass judgement on things and declare them as good or bad, it would be better to just sit back and say, “It will be interesting to see what happens.”
Laurentius_the_pyro ago
Extreme problems require extreme solutions, the world only got this bad because previous generations were not willing to be extreme.
NotALawyer ago
I disagree.
World only got this good because previous generations sat back and just did what they could at any given moment.
Average cizizen of first world countries lives considerably better than a medieval King ever did, let that one sink in.
Civil_Warrior ago
Water quality, available game to hunt, fish, soil quality and oxygen levels all in the shitter compared to medeival times and scheduled to never be as good.
NotALawyer ago
And only one in 5 children grew old enough to marry, what a wonderful life that must've been, never travelling further than roughly 15km away from village (average) , and if fields didnt give enough food, everybody starved to death. Almost forgot about labouring on fields from sundise to sunset, with only big breakfast, and light soup for evenings. Meat was roughly twice a year, if even that. No spices, rarely salt, even rarer was pepper. Everything tastes bland, everything is soup consistency. You cannot drink water because animal piss made it toxic, you drink only what would today amount to light root beer. Yes, even children. 97% of population is poorer than people in poorest parts of Africa today, 15 people usually sleep in one bed. You were considered rich if you had extra room for your children to sleep on. If you were lucky, you had a "house" which was basically rock put together with mud and straw, with straw/later ceramic roof. Cooking range was a fire in the middle of that "house". You slept in your childs' feces. Your floor was mud. You showered once a year. You had to work on your masters' fields for no pay one day a week. Only source of water was a well in the middle of village, and if it decided to dry out, you die.
Lots more of that though. By the way, only the Lord was allowed to hunt in Kings' forests, anyone else hunting there was lynched, beaten or put to prison, no matter how hungry, because land belonged to the King.