Tuesday, 23 June 2015

Evolution of Michael Jackson - Pentatonix

Wednesday, 17 June 2015

YouTube Live at E3 - Archive of Stream from June 15, 2015

Friday, 5 June 2015

A Stroke Survivor's Tale – Clinically Dead

It was after a weekend in St. Augustine, Florida that Jim Olbrich had his too-close-for-comfort brush with death. That night a blood clot rushed into his brain and caused a major hemorrhagic stroke. A stroke that has left Jim walking like Frankenstein. Jim had driven the two hours back to his home in Orlando. Tired, he went to bed ... but, found he had trouble rolling over ... couldn't easily get into position for sleep. During the night, it felt as if a little girl's hand pulled him out of bed. Jim headed for the bathroom ... not yet aware that his left side was already losing control. He banged off the walls ... stumbled his way ... finally made it. Jim fell off the toilet ... lay on the floor for awhile. Next thing ... Jim was in a helicopter -- being whisked to the hospital. It happened that quick! And, it happened while he was sleeping. ~ Blood Pushing on the Brain ~ Later, in the ICU, Jim heard his skull crack ... a cracking sound on his right side. Then, his head started hurting. The on-duty nurse offered a simple solution, "Well ... I'll get you a couple Tylenol." But ... this wasn't a simple headache to be solved by a couple of pills. Soon, Jim was in a coma. In the operating room, his skull was opened ... blood was drained ... the pressure was released. But ... "My brain fell out!" When Jim woke up the next morning, "I got a gazillion staples in my head ... holding everything together." He'd also died. ~ Waking Up in the Morgue ~ Declared was declared dead and put in the morgue. A body bag was nearby and a nurse was putting a tag on Jim's big toe. Luckily for Jim, the rubber band tangled with the hair on his toe. When the nurse pulled it back ... she ripped out some of Jim's hair. He woke up! When Jim sat up and spoke ... the startled nurse ran for the door. Instead she ran headlong into the wall. Now ... Jim had to wait for her to come to. Finally, he was wheeled back to his room ... a lot nicer than spending a night in the morgue. "I would have spent the rest of my life looking at somebody else's feet." ~ What caused the stroke? ~ After years of being checked out constantly ... Jim feels the doctors are still guessing. His cardiologist believes it was an artery on the front of Jim's heart ... it exploded and blew off ... sending the deadly clot on its way to Jim's brain. The clot caused a "brain bleed" -- a destructive hemorrhagic stroke. Pressure from the pooling blood "crushed" Jim's brain. ~ Jim's Still Paralyzed ~ Now, three years later, how's Jim doing? "Not bad." Jim's not one to complain. His sense of humour is one thing that has gotten him through this ordeal. Sporting a carbon-fiber plate in his skull ... completely paralyzed on his left side ... suffering from constant headaches ... Jim chuckles at all his problems. "I walk like Frankenstein ... on a cane." Jim is still on therapy and hopes to one day "become more graceful." If Jim's doctor had been correct ... Jim wouldn't walk at all. But ... Jim is stubborn. He may not walk pretty ... but, with his persistence, he does walk. It is a source of relief to Jim ... he never lost his ability to talk. Also, his memory is still quite good ... barring a few blank spots. "They're a total mystery to me." They may be lingering in a small piece of brain ... in a jar. A piece of brain -- "The size of my small finger" -- is still sitting in a jar downtown. Jim hasn't been able to see it yet ... but he'd like to. "I want to see where my memory is." ~ Can Jim's paralysis be treated? ~ "That's forever!" Or, until more T-cell research is permitted. Jim needs that ... he's on everybody's list to volunteer. What Jim needs now is a new president ... someone who won't be against such research. Why is the current administration against T-cell research? "That's because they're healthy!" ~ How to Avoid a Stroke ~ Jim's advice? "Keep an eye on your cholesterol. Arteries clog up ... that's the problem." High levels of LDL cholesterol will lead to atherosclerosis. And, the poor dietary habits that create this problem also bring on high blood pressure, diabetes, and obesity. All put you at a high risk of heart attack and stroke. Take some time out today ... look at your diet. Could it be healthier? Start eating better, get some exercise, live a healthier, longer life. Jim doesn't want you to join him. He's quite content being the only one who walks like Frankenstein. If his story can keep you from suffering what he has suffered ... you'll put a bigger smile on his face.

How Important is Breath of Life to You?

How much do you value your life. At the age 25 I thought I could do anything. What a wonderful feeling? But, as I found out that life changes on you at anytime. My marriage ending because my husband decided to fall in love with another. I had a child to raise on my own. My home was sold and divorce was on it’s way. The other women wanted everything I had with my family. How Life changes in minutes? One day I am happy and wild and think I can do anything want and little did I know that my husband at the time was having an affair. Love no longer was part of us. Changes do come and be ready to decided what your are going to do. I continue my career. Then made a big decision to move with my son to another state. I thought going to another city and state would make my pain go away. It did not make any changes. Why? Changes come from within deep soul of heart. Your heart still feel, sadness, happiness,hurt,sorrow,tears,joy,pleasure. How long can you go without making any changes? You can go forever. Until YOU make the changes. When I move to another city and not happy because I did not have my friends or family around me. But, I had a child at that time a baby. He was my responsibility. When you have pay rent, feed your family, buy clothes,by shoes,buy a car, fix the car, pay for insurance, pay for gas, pay for medical insurance. You start to think who is running my life. Everything cost money. I got so tired I want to take my life. Then who would raise my son. Who would be making the decision if I was not around. How much can a person take? What I learned? I am here to tell you life goes on with you or without you. Time never stops. So, If you need to make a change in your life today. Make it for the GOOD of you and your family. Paying the bill is not the only thing you have to do in this world. You can have fun and enjoy life. How do you think you can change your life? Don’t get mad at your wife or husband because thing did not work out. Don’t be mad a your boss for firing you. Don’t be mad because things did not turn out like you planned. Assure yourself that sometime changes can bring good tithing. HOW? As you grow older and wiser you know that your never going to change as a person. You are YOU. But you can make an effort to make the best you can of out of your life today. HOW? 1. Good decision making 2. Follow your Heart 3. Research resources 4. Love 5. Make Money 6. Save Money 7. Take vacations (even if you can not afford them- take weekend trip ) 8. Take Time to have fun or laugh 9. Take time to view in the mirror ( Like what you see) 10 Take time to soul search ( You may find out more about yourself) All above 10 solutions has made my life much easier. Today I live in Atlanta,Ga. and my son is now 29 years of age. I remarried 1995 and very happy. Let's recap: My son is 29 year old and college graduate. I married again 1995 and my husband is the best. In 2003 I had accident could not work again. My knee was chattered and I can not stand or sit to long. In 2005 I did my research and found a home base business that fit my needs. It's 2010 and I have no boss. But, my husband and son are the most important people in life.

A Visit With a Sirian

I was recently approached by Teresa Silverthorn of Conversations with a Mystic to write a brief introduction about myself — how I came to do what I was doing, what got me involved in all this, etc. Well, it didn’t take me a New York minute to realize I had no idea what to write about. What to say that hasn’t been said in my various and nefarious Bios already out there (Author Bios that I intend on condensing into one someday)? I sat down to start writing (I still do much of this with pen and paper) and two hours later I was done. Below is what resulted… A pretty unremarkable life indeed. I honestly cannot remember any one circumstance in my life that would have pulled me toward pursuing the ‘mysteries’, except maybe my actual birth into this world. From what I have been told regarding the years of my infancy and earliest childhood (years I cannot remember, of course), I was stubborn and resistant to everything around me. By the time other children were adept at composing sentences to express their needs and feelings, I could only say one word – NO. For me, this was the perfect word. Apparently, I was so talented at using this word, my father had decided that I must have been born with certain mental disabilities. Well, all things considered, I eventually learned how to compose sentences, and this I continue to do. However, one thing remained at the core of my being, and this was that there was something terribly wrong, something totally unacceptable with this world. I was thirteen years old in 1970, spending every minute I could on the beach in Venice, CA. They say that if you remember those days, you obviously weren’t there, but I was there, and I do remember those days. Having the proper role models, I initiated myself into a ten-year, accelerated (not-accredited) program of enlightenment and mind-expansion, which was augmented by the use and ingestion of various psychosomatic drugs and herbs. The world of Hobbits and Wizards was a very real place to me long before I entered this aforementioned ‘mystery school’, and so once my alternative education and diet began, I was running the hills and canyons of the Santa Monica and Malibu Mountains looking to find new friends. I spent hours conversing with boulders about the wisdom of the Earth. I walked with trees who walked with me, no longer bound to the land by their heavy roots. These trees taught me of the power and beauty of the Sun. Two-foot long salamanders spoke of fire while dashing around my legs and nipping at my feet, happy to trust me again after an incident of betrayal in a past/parallel life. The undulating spirits of the water took me to far-off lands and brought me home again. In all those years my life was full, so it never occurred to me to look far away to see what kinds of life might exist on other planets. I never gave a moment’s thought to the existence of UFOs, let alone did I ever see one. I was already a very busy boy. That is, until some years later. Now it must be said that by this time, I had graduated from the Organic Mystery School of Enlightenment (with honors, by the way), but I could not say I was actually enlightened. I quickly shelved my diploma for paying work. In fact, I became so distracted by real-world pursuits, that I gave no notice to anything but work and waves – maybe a few beers, and then a few more. The summer of 1985 brought with it a typical evening for me. I had a couple of beers with the boys by the pier at Ocean Beach after sunset. I wasn’t in the mood for partying (this in itself was highly unusual), so I said my good-byes, got in the car, and drove a few miles south to a secluded, undeveloped state-beach. There was no one around, and the sky was covered in a thick blanket of clouds. There was not a star to be seen, and it felt good to be alone. I walked out into a field of tall grasses by the edge of the cliffs and sat, gazing out over the ocean and watching the waves. A short time passed and I lay back, flattening the soft grasses beneath me. I just lay there looking up at the sky. It had been years since I had meditated, and this night offered no change in my mundane existence of attitudes and lack of spiritual practice. My years of mind-expansion were left in the past, where they belonged to a daring and unsatisfied boy. Looking up, I noticed the clouds were moving, but not across the sky as they usually would do. They moved while remaining still, and began moving faster and faster. They were slowly turning in upon themselves in the middle of the sky. The clouds reached a boiling point and an opening appeared directly above me. This opening continued to grow until very large, perfectly circular patch of clear sky was revealed to me. I stared at this hole in the sky, gazing at stars that short moments before were invisible to me. Suddenly, I was flying, actually being pulled up while still on my back. Higher and higher I went – faster and faster into this great empty hole that had opened in the clouds. I was just above the clouds when as quickly as it started, it stopped. I found myself standing in a room with three beings. Tall and slender, they were with long arms and legs, though naturally so – not cartoon-ish. They were of a fleshy color like us, but not necessarily naked. One stood close by my right side with another just a couple of feet off to my left. The last was across the room, seemingly uninterested in me. What seemed like hours passed as we spoke to each other with our thoughts. The one on my right told me we had known each other for a long time, and that I was one of them. They told me that they were from what we call Sirius. So, this was pretty cool… I asked this ‘one’, my old friend, if I could go with them to their home – my home, actually, since I was one of them. I was told ‘no’, and so what used to be my favorite word had been turned against me. Apparently, I had ‘things to do’, and so I must stay where I was, where I belonged. What was this? Finish what? I figured I was finished – standing in a room with some tall aliens in a spacecraft floating high above the earth was enough to convince me of that. It didn’t get any better than this. Here I was, looking out a window straight down at the Earth. Far below, I saw my car parked at the side of the road. and in the field, I saw an outline where the grasses had been flattened to the ground. This was the spot where I had been laying, minding my own business before this whole thing started. I saw where I had been laying, but I wasn’t there. Another car pulled up to park on the side of the road. A few young guys got out of the car, drinking beers and having a good time. I was told I had to go back, and ‘poof’ – faster than the trip up, I was back in the grass, flat on my back like I had never left. I was back where I belonged, and where I had ‘things to do’. I sat up, and a hundred yards away I saw the three guys standing by the cliff and pointing at the waves. Now it’s 25 years later, and I am doing those things I have to do. I have a promise to keep, as we all do, and I intend to fulfill that promise – all this by choice. My Sirian friend has only begun to visit me again, but now this takes place in my realm, in my living room without all the dramatic bells and whistles of the first time. S/he, the Sirian, doesn’t come frequently, but always comes with a small, portable, folding chair. I am told the Sirians like their chairs. And so it is still, basically, an unremarkable life. I still live in a world of gnomes and undines, salamanders and sylphs, all of which I am honored to call my friends. I am a close friend with a Native American shape-shifting snake who teaches me of reptilian medicine. I have a Tibetan Teacher who also likes his chair – it flies. None of this can I consider remarkable, for what some might call strange and bizarre, I must call ordinary, for it is considered ordinary by those who teach me. If ordinary, it cannot be remarkable. To me, what is remarkable is this man’s world with all its excessive technologies and glamours, gossips and lies. Those are the things that are NOT ordinary, and so those are the things that ARE remarkable. It is this world, man’s remarkable world, that I live in, but must pay little attention to for my own well being. It is this world, man’s remarkable world, that must change, and the way for that to happen is by our acknowledging the remaining part of the world that we have ignored for too long – this ‘other world’ is truly the larger part of reality, for ours is just the tip of a rich and marvelous iceberg. When we turn our heads to see something different, no longer enraptured by phenomenal things which cannot last, we will be filled again, and our priorities re-ordered. Every night (I kid you not) I look out at the blackened sky. The Milky Way spreads itself across this airless landscape like a serpent in a desert sand of sparkling diamonds. Every night, cloudy or not, I look out at this blackened sky in hopes that I might see a flying craft of some unknown origin. Every night I look outside of myself, hoping to see what is already within me. Every night, and I have still never seen a UFO. Author’ note: After realizing how much fun it was to be able to share in this way, and with others who usually visit other blogs besides mine, I realized how great an opportunity it was to do a “guest column” for someone else. With this, I decided to do the same thing, and begin inviting authors to have their say on this blog. While I might not endorse or agree with all those who might participate, this is a wondrful world so full of variety, perspectives and ideas – we all have our “truths”, and for those authors who would share in a similar (and maybe not so similar) take on this world, I will extend invitation as time permits.

Please Hear What I'm Not Saying

Up until – probably the last 5 years – I always tried to pretend like I was perfect. How are you Scott? I’m fine. Doing great. What’s happening? Just really busy. Doing this. Doing that. It’s all good. In short, I would try and hold everything I could from those around me in order to appear as if everything was perfect. I wouldn’t share parts of myself. I would try to keep it a secret. But over the last couple of years, I’ve decided that doesn’t serve me or anyone else. And that’s why, particularly over the last year or two, I’ve started to be more open. I’ve shared stories about my struggles at the beginning of my business. I’ve told stories about my experiences in cults… with gurus… about moving schools and suffering through bullying as a teenager. It’s stuff I would have never shared in the past. But you know what happens when you do stuff like this? I’ve found that people don’t rub it in your face… they actually begin to connect with the real you more. Why? Well, when I was at a very well respected recruitment firm in my early 20’s I think I shocked everyone (including myself) when as I was leaving as I read out the following poem: — Don’t be fooled by me. Don’t be fooled by the face I wear for I wear a mask, a thousand masks, masks that I’m afraid to take off, and none of them is me. Pretending is an art that’s second nature with me, but don’t be fooled, for God’s sake don’t be fooled. I give you the impression that I’m secure, that all is sunny and unruffled with me, within as well as without, that confidence is my name and coolness my game, that the water’s calm and I’m in command and that I need no one, but don’t believe me. My surface may seem smooth but my surface is my mask, ever-varying and ever-concealing. Beneath lies no complacence. Beneath lies confusion, and fear, and aloneness. But I hide this. I don’t want anybody to know it. I panic at the thought of my weakness exposed. That’s why I frantically create a mask to hide behind, a nonchalant sophisticated facade, to help me pretend, to shield me from the glance that knows. But such a glance is precisely my salvation, my only hope, and I know it. That is, if it’s followed by acceptance, if it’s followed by love. It’s the only thing that can liberate me from myself, from my own self-built prison walls, from the barriers I so painstakingly erect. It’s the only thing that will assure me of what I can’t assure myself, that I’m really worth something. But I don’t tell you this. I don’t dare to, I’m afraid to. I’m afraid your glance will not be followed by acceptance, will not be followed by love. I’m afraid you’ll think less of me, that you’ll laugh, and your laugh would kill me. I’m afraid that deep-down I’m nothing and that you will see this and reject me. So I play my game, my desperate pretending game, with a facade of assurance without and a trembling child within. So begins the glittering but empty parade of masks, and my life becomes a front. I idly chatter to you in the suave tones of surface talk. I tell you everything that’s really nothing, and nothing of what’s everything, of what’s crying within me. So when I’m going through my routine do not be fooled by what I’m saying. Please listen carefully and try to hear what I’m not saying, what I’d like to be able to say, what for survival I need to say, but what I can’t say. I don’t like hiding. I don’t like playing superficial phony games. I want to stop playing them.I want to be genuine and spontaneous and me but you’ve got to help me. You’ve got to hold out your hand even when that’s the last thing I seem to want. Only you can wipe away from my eyes the blank stare of the breathing dead. Only you can call me into aliveness. Each time you’re kind, and gentle, and encouraging, each time you try to understand because you really care, my heart begins to grow wings– very small wings, very feeble wings, but wings! With your power to touch me into feeling you can breathe life into me. I want you to know that. I want you to know how important you are to me, how you can be a creator–an honest-to-God creator–of the person that is me if you choose to. You alone can break down the wall behind which I tremble, you alone can remove my mask, you alone can release me from my shadow-world of panic, from my lonely prison, if you choose to. Please choose to. Do not pass me by. It will not be easy for you. A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls. The nearer you approach to me the blinder I may strike back. It’s irrational, but despite what the books say about man often I am irrational. I fight against the very thing I cry out for. But I am told that love is stronger than strong walls and in this lies my hope. Please try to beat down those walls with firm hands but with gentle hands for a child is very sensitive. Who am I, you may wonder? I am someone you know very well. For I am every man you meet and I am every woman you meet. — This poem is called “please hear what I’m not saying” and was actually written by Charles C. Finn in September of 1966. Personally, I think there’s something we can learn from it as human beings and as marketers. Remember, nobody is perfect. So when we try to pretend we are perfect we don’t endear ourselves to anyone. But when we start to break down the shackles, and quite simply be ourselves… warts and all… our friends, our family, and our customers respond to this warmly.

Thursday, 4 June 2015

The latest leaked images of Sony Xperia phone Z4 new phone 2015

What's the Fastest Phone? (2015)

The Best Phone You've Never Heard Of (2015)

Fallout 4 - Official Trailer

HTC One M9 Review!

My Friend Informed This Story

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