Life

I am sure that life is a recurrence relation, but I am not sure what a recurrence relation is.

In a City where People Respect Themselves

In a city where people respect themselves, buildings are designed with physically challenged people in mind.

The most popular color for cars is white and the least popular is black.

People dispose each type of wastes in, and only in, special containers.

Everything is civil, and only civil.

Everyone is aware of the importance of recycling.

On the street, priorities are for ambulances, funerals, weddings and walkers, especially ladies and children.

You see no one begging.

People may not like each other's ideologies and ethnicities, yet they are all equal under the law and they respect the law or object it in a lawful way.

Men and women dress in nice, neat, cheerful and decent way.

You don't hear whatsoever profanity and swearwords.

You do not find a cat, or any other animal, that gets terrified when you come close to it.

You rarely hear a sound that is produced intentionally and that irritates you.

You go walking at any hour fearing no person or obstacle on your way.

Security authorities' number one responsibilities are to research health and natural disaster issues and to eliminate negativity between civilians.

There is no such a concept as a servant.

At shops and markets, customers are always right, and customers are able to help themselves by themselves.

Walking, or moving on wheelchairs, on sideways is a safe and straightforward experience.

There is no person above the law.

Diplomats and CD cars are not allowed to enter the city.

Traveling by public transportation is a nice social experience.

You see no political signs.

Everybody is positively focused on their own business.

Everybody cares actively about the city, country and the entire world.

It is highly competitive and lucrative to become a teacher.

You find bookshops that sell books on subjects other than novels, astrology, pseudoscience, standard textbooks, poetry and metaphysics.

You can afford to buy books.

Copyrights are respected.

People smile and great everyone they pass by.

When they hear or see some sign calling for prayer, they all pause and try to remember their life missions.

You rarely see someone over thirty-years old who is not married.

People work proactively on their social skills.

The relationship between the two genders is open and healthy.

Nobody's body is a product or service.

People respect food, and eat healthily.

Refugees are always welcome and "no one is illegal."

There are no lofty buildings, nor does anyone like such buildings.

Everybody can speak a world major language.

Everyone believes in a better city.

What to Look at

-"Wow! dude look at her ***!" said a young man to his fellow,
-"Dude! I don't wanna miss somebody's cute [female] smile."

At the Barbershop

I was once at a barbershop getting a haircut. I was sitting on the barber's seat, and the barber is cutting and combing my hair.

I was thinking of something, when I noticed that he -the barber- had stopped. I noticed his pause because what he was doing was rhythmic.

Now, he's standing to my right, doing nothing, but who cares man, I thought to myself then I heard him say something like "flip a coin."

I looked up and smiled at him, but that smile was a fatal mistake, that's because I looked nice to a person of a society to which being nice is still perceived by both genders as a sign of weakness.

I thought: Those barbers here, at this barbershop, are lazy and their life is quite peaceful, hmm... maybe I should become a barber. Then another barber, who was setting on a chair behind us, said to my barber: "Do you think he's thinking of your question! He didn't hear you!" and he looked at me. Now wait a minute, those guys are talking about me?! Oh Dear Lord of Abraham and Moses!

My barber looked at me and informally said: "what did you decide on?"
"Pardon me?!"
"What do you prefer to apply on your hair? Cream or gel?"
I replied: "oh yes sure! Gel err... I mean cream. Pardon me I didn't hear you!"
"I thought you were waiting for some divine revelation to come down upon you", said the barber sarcastically.

I laughed at me and him, then I tried to return back to my thoughts, and I thought to myself: either those guys need to get training in customer care or I need to get training in salesperson care. Heh!

One should be careful not to lose one's chain of thoughts when getting pensive in pseudo-tranquil places.

Why Did the Hen Cross the Street?

To cross the street

She wanted to figure out why did the hen cross the street

She saw people cross streets on TV

It was one of her childhood dreams

She was trying on her new high heels

"The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog"

There’s no reason, according to Quantum Mechanics

She was crossing the street back

She was running from someone hungry

She thought she could tease the cock that way

She was running after her baby chick

She wanted to find out what is it like to cross the street

She read the post “Why Did the Hen Cross the Street?” on my Royal-Blue Labs blog

For the fun of it

The street won't cross her

She wanted to make us wonder why

She was going on shopping

The cock on the other side won’t make the first move

She thought she understood Thermodynamics

Someone on the other side needed her help

She was teaching her chicks how to cross the street safely

She saw me with Alice on the other side

She had no choice but to do so

She wanted to take a closer look on something on the other side

She wanted to take a farther look on something on the side she was on

Some humans said to her that they would stop lying if she crosses the street

She thought she might find new friends on the other side

She caught flu

She likes to be unpredictable

I don't know

Sweet Somali Banana

Ever since I was little innocent Omar at my early school years, poor Somali refugees symbolized misery to me; I remember seeing them in person in the streets of Jeddah and Mecca, Saudi Arabia.

I later saw many poor people in Syria bravely endure their disabilities, but the disabilities that many Somalis suffered from were, in most cases, far much severe and challenging.

Back then, in Jeddah, Somali banana was without a doubt little Omar’s favorite fruit. It was beautifully yellow, easy to peel off, soft and simply tasted good; only one should never toss its peel on the ground!

At home, I remember that I once didn’t want to complete eating the food in my dish, so my parents, as yours perhaps did, reminded me that people in Somalia are starving and we should never throw away food.

From time to time, I felt guilty to eat while people are starving in hot dry Somalia. I knew their suffering couldn’t be put to an end by money only, as there were boxes to gather monitory donations for them in every commercial center in Jeddah. After all, there must be a reason why their misery carries on.

At school, I had a lucky Somali classmate; he was a hardcore soccer player and one of the best players of our school team, he was well built, strong and peaceful. One time, I was standing in our schoolyard during PE class; I was supposed to be playing and running, but I was daydreaming when he unintentionally kicked a heavy, almost standard, soccer ball straight to the area between my chest and stomach; Man! It was a missile, so tough and painful that I hardly could breathe. We were at our third or fourth grade when that accident occurred. He was tough, even his accent and pronunciation of letters was tough. Anyway he was far much luckier than most of his Somali citizens to be able to attend a private school.

Nowadays, I feel that Somalia is associated in my mind with an odd mix of something sweet and yellow, classmates, a sweet friend of mine, misery and severe disability. I wonder if poor Somali people were able somehow to enjoy the taste of their banana.

Sadly, the misery of Somali people continues while I’m writing this post; it seems to be developing, as if they haven’t suffer enough already.

Some international organizations are trying to provide humanitarian aid; I wouldn’t praise any of them, make no mistake about it, but still I would like to say “God bless you” to everyone who is faithful to humanity and acting upon good intentions to help the others.

I pray for every good person, and I still praise the Lord for the sweet Somali banana. It is a [great] blessing.

Unwritten Blog Post

Did you like my unwritten silent blog post? I mean that one which has no title, no concrete body and no words or letters at all.

Thank you, for coming by and for leaving your unwritten and so peacefully silent comments on my unwritten post. I hope you've read my unwritten reply.

The unwritten, unsaid is just... don't you agree?

Redundant Adjectives

An adjective is redundant when the noun after it conveys the meaning of the adjective. For example, I once saw an ambulance car labeled “Fast Ambulance” in red; how redundant the adjective “fast” is here? What is the use of an ambulance if it is not fast? Somebody please tell me.

Here are other examples where I, usually, find the adjective redundant:
Fragile glass
Loving mother
Horrible crime
Loyal friend
Small point
Hot summer (not globally redundant)
Lethal weapon
Sweet candy
Cute young woman (All the ladies that I know personally are cute and young, right?)

Even though an adjective maybe redundant, its presence emphasizes and decorates the meaning of a noun, I guess that is why one gets tempted to overuse adjectives.

Is the adjective “false” in “false perception” always somehow redundant? I hope it is not.
Do you think of other examples? Please let me know.

Five Random Things About Myself

First, I want to thank GrayFox for being the first to tag me on his blog, and I want to thank Hasan for explaining to me this tradition and for tagging me too.

I've been tagged to write five things about myself, so my dear reader get ready for some royal blue narcissism. Here are five random things.

I like to take people and things as they are. For me 1 meter is 1 meter, and it is wrong to define a meter in inches or yards. I like to solve technical problems, as they are with the minimum steps and resources possible, not only for maximum efficiency but also because it is much challenging and fun this way. I usually prefer to open a plastic bag than to tear it apart. I believe that lying is failure to find nice and neat solutions.

I am very grateful to the Creator that I am a living creature and I believe it is a great honor to be a human being. I praise the Creator for creating man and woman. I do too many faux pas all the time, but I never intend them and sometimes I feel embarrassed and sorry when I realize them, but I usually laugh and feel happy that I am a human.

Being highly independent, autonomous and open is very essential to me. I work for regular commercial companies and only for civil projects. I avoid any job that has the least of conflict with my principles. I do not put pictures of any person even if he or she is great and respectful. I will not join any organized society or party or stick to any intellectual, scientific or technical school.

I feel kind of sad when any girl cuts her hair short, or when she dyes it completely. I feel worried that women put cosmetics made in some third world countries or by unknown companies, as those products, including hair dyes and powders, may contain unhealthy and dangerous constituents and could negatively affect the health of women or their babies.

I am very sensitive to the beauty of text, weather it is typography or calligraphy. I keep staring at text and I enjoy tasting typographical details like serif and sans serif decorations and spacing of words and letters.

Now let me think of an idea for a new tag, heh heh heh!

Heh!

Heh!