/** * NF_Persistence * * Agent Smith: "Why, Mr. Anderson, why? Why do you persist?" * Neo: "Because I choose to." * * PHP Version 5 * * @category NiftyFramework * @package NiftyFramework * @subpackage Database * @author Mats Gefvert* @license http://www.sun.com/cddl/ Common Development and Distribution License */ class NF_PersistenceRelationMap { ....
I make myself laugh sometimes. Is that a good sign? :)
I think my favorite Christmas song (yeah, there you go, I’m already singing Christmas songs…) is the one about the little drummer boy.
Come, they told me, pa rum pum pum pum
A newborn King to see, pa rum pum pum pum
Our finest gifts we bring, pa rum pum pum pum
To lay before the King, pa rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum
So to honor him, pa rum pum pum pum
When we come.
When I went through bible school in 1994-95, we all had ideals that soared mile-high. We were going to be the new Benny Hinns, ministers of the faith, apostles and prophets (like all bible school students, I suppose) and shake the whole world upside down.
I think, through the years, at least I have maybe cooled down a little bit. Those lofty ideals seem … surprisingly not remote, but actually rather unimportant. It is not important that I stand in big arenas and preach to tens of thousands of people. It is not important if I start a huge ministry. Riches, honor and fame, even in the subtle shape of Christian ministry, is not important.
It is actually quite liberating to realize that I am unimportant. There is a sense of freedom in knowing that my name will never be famous. I grew up in a small house, and maybe I’ll die in a small house – it doesn’t bother me. Maybe I’ll never be rich. Maybe I will only touch a few people’s lives in all my days on earth. It is not important.
What really matters is our devotion to Him – to God, our heavenly father. And as little as I am, with the few things I can do or say, if I can only do it for him, then it will matter for eternities to come:
I played my drum for him, pa rum pum pum pum
I played my best for him, pa rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum
Then he smiled at me, pa rum pum pum pum
Me and my drum.
Such as I have, I give. And even if all I can ever pull off is a small concert for him on my cheap little drum, he still deserves my very best. So I play for him, tears in my eyes, as well as I can on my drum. And if I do that, if I give him my very best, as minute as it still may seem… I know he will smile at me; and in that smile he will justify my entire existence.
Sometimes, I listen to people singing the Star-Spangled Banner – you know, at sports events, stuff like that. Which is great and all, I think it’s a great song, but why do people only sing the first verse?
In this case, it goes like this:
O, say, can you see, by the dawn’s early light
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,
O’er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets’ red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
O, say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
It ends with a question – does the star-spangled banner yet wave? And in a sense, it is a fitting question if you look at the United States of today. Since we omit the next three verses and never sing it, we take out the good stuff from it, bringing to mind Alexis de Tocqueville’s famous comment “America is great because she is good, and when she ceases to be good, she will cease to be great.”
So it ends with a question – and this question has resounded over America for a great many years. Does the banner yet wave? Is she intact? Is she still there, the beacon of freedom through the world, shining gallantly for liberty and justice as the red, white and blue snaps in the wind?
It was with the same amount of tremor and hesitation that Francis Scott Key watched through the night, seeking indication of whether the British had captured Fort McHenry or not. And the jubilant sight he beheld when the large flag was raised in the early morning is recorded in the following verses.
On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe’s haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o’er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning’s first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream:
‘Tis the star-spangled banner!! Oh long may it wave!
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle’s confusion,
A home and a country should leave us no more?
Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps’ pollution!
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave!
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
And it ends with this benediction.
O, thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war’s desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heav’n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: ‘In God is our trust.’
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
It is a terrible tragedy when the divine intervention in creating a new country, a home for the refugees of the world, is sacrificed on the altar of political correctness. So the question still stands. “Does the star-spangled banner yet wave?”
Maybe Heaven itself will answer that question. “Yet a little while”, a soft voice might whisper in the night, “yet a little while.”
STAGE: A rural village in feudal Japan. A small, traditional Japanese house is nearby. Some cherry trees can be seen in the distance.
ACT ONE:
A samurai warrior enters the stage, inspecting his lands and his village. He starts singing the first aria of the opera, “A Sacred Land, A Sacred Call”, extolling the virtues of the samurai and the honor that lies with his profession. “To die for the emperor”, he sings, “a duty; an honor – oh that I would be found worthy of doing so”. Two women nearby sit kneeling with their heads bowed in deep respect for this great warrior. After he is gone, they discuss the theme of the aria between them, and how they are, like him, honor-bound in their call to serve. “This is the Meaning of Life”, they sing together in wonderful, tear-jerking duet.
But events are afoot. The samurai’s son suddenly enters the stage, looking for his father after many years away in Kyoto. They meet; father is delighted to see him and wonders how he has been doing. Alas, it is soon revealed, that the son has not followed in his father’s footsteps; he has become a traveling salesman for Hershey’s Chocolate Kisses. The samurai, enraged, commands him to stop immediately and storms out. The end of Act One ends with the son, singing to a sad tune on the clarinet, “How I Love Japan; But I Love Hershey’s Kisses Too”.
ACT TWO:
The Japanese villagers are now talking among themselves and rumor quickly spreads that the samurai’s son is a salesman for Hershey’s. Some of the villagers argue that chocolate, in every form, is a good thing and Japan must embrace the influences of the new world; others argue against; when suddenly the samurai himself appears. Finding that his authority is weakening, he quickly summons his son and asks him “very well, have you changed your mind?” The son refuses to leave his new profession, and the samurai, dishonored and enraged, throws him into a bamboo prison cell. “There you will stay”, he bellows, “until you respect your honor!”
The drama develops when a team of Hershey Co. lawyers emerge on the scene, singing a transformation of the main theme, “What Ho, What Ho? What Transpires Here?” The samurai threatens to kill the lawyers on the spot, but they quickly produce a document signed by the Emperor himself, which no samurai can question, that Hershey’s Chocolates are legitimate all over Japan by royal decree. The second act ends with the samurai father falling on his knees in shame and dishonor, crying. The villagers look on terrified.
ACT THREE:
The samurai, unable to bear the shame of his son as a traveling Hershey’s salesman, has reached a decision: He will commit suicide. The villagers are mortified, and the team of Hershey’s lawyers are beaten by them until they repel them by threatening to sue them for libel. The samuari ends this quarrel by stepping onto the stage with his swords; a gray, somber figure with ashen face, prepared to do his duty. His son sings his final aria to him from the bamboo prison, “Will You Not See: a New Dawn for Old Japan”, but the father refuses to listen.
But by mistake, when the samurai reaches for his last sake glass, he accidentally grabs a Hershey’s Chocolate Kiss instead and puts it in his mouth! Apalled at first, his countenance soon changes as he realizes he has made a dreadful mistake, and everyone soon starts laughing. He lets out his son, forgiving him with tears in his face, and the opera ends with the grand finale, the duet between father and son, singing “Here is Tradition Too”, indicating that there are traditions in Hershey’s Company as well, as it is in feudal Japan, and that both can coexist together through honor and mutual respect. The villagers and lawyers combine in a final, grand chorus. The sun sets over the cherry trees which are now blossoming in full, and the curtain falls. The End.