Diamonds, Gemstones, Lumps of Coal - Another Strike at the Dragon's Soul

The diamond of long distant runners in the world, that is the world's fastest, says he may skip these Olympics for his health. 26 miles of rapid inhalation in such coal dust air would shorten his life. China holds it's breath.

This news to China is another diamond of the moral lessons from God or pure living, or Buddha himself. The way we live, is the way we die. Buddha had a following not because what he said, but how he lived such a holy serene life as no other holy man of his time. And while this diamond of a gentle man lived a simple life, and like Socrates in the west, merely answer questions with a question, and go inside his bliss.

Which what another diamond of a human being has just done, and informed the world, and his host China, he may miss th parade. For he fears for his health if in his race he proceeds, for he is long distance runner, for which lung power much needs. Of all of the athletes, the long race will be won, by he who runs fastest, and sucks air through his lungs.

However, in Beijing, each visit, he fears for his life. For the air is so filthy many have masks on their faces as day seems like twilight. And for this champion to win, he must train there with might, to know the terrain, every up and down site. And by the time of the races, and parades and speeches now complete; he is not sure if he would have lungs left to stand on his feet.

So on Olympics and torches like the Disney Parade, with lights and sights to marvel, all through each day. Are we to use candles, or masks and a lamp, to watch each runner still standing cough over that ramp? When the best mice from heaven start leaving the boat, it is time for a make over, or swamp in the moat. The Forbidden Palace is bloated, and very confused. How to get rich, be Communist, not confused by the rules.

Poor Communist China, on it's way to get rich, still keeps controls like a female with puppies, our snarling great bitch. Take Tibet, and Sudan for oil. Tibetans who make trouble could be shipped to Darfur, in exchange for that oil. Gone Tibetan, such trouble, now peopled with Hans. Hans is also Chinese, as German, but who could so tell? 1939 soldiers named Hans in helmets marched from Paris to Moscow. Times change, people earn to love and forgive. French now hug Germans: how grown up is that?

Except up in Tibet. Here, the 2008 Hans are more golden and they come from the coast. And they take over Tibet, each Han soldier can boast. Bump baton upon skull of Tibetan in robes. Only way to teach them, our great culture here in droves.

Meanwhile, back in Beijing, they wonder if they were to close down the coal burning factories around Beijing as long as guests were in town. It could be as in America in that horrible three days after 9/11 when all air traffic was shut down. The skies of America became blue. Not every other coal burning factory and all our exhaust SUV could make the sky gray. We may not have noticed, but science sure did. Meanwhile a billion Chinese want to fly to Rome for the fall.

And that kerosine driven airplane creates a fake heavenly sky as it leaves a jet trail wover a clear blue sky. That serene implication of that white cloud is a lie. It is kerosine spittle, that when it rains, falls on you and I. So I think science would agree with this stink: we might be more health by far, if they left the toilets open to fall. At least good for the gardens, we can handle crap as we get it at work. But if they could find a way to put a diaper on the rear of that jet engine air bus, they could stop it from wet potties, of kerosine onto us.

Take the new jet super trains that, like veins through our bodies, encircle the earth. Get the coal dust technology information to all. And until jets can get off kerosine, take the clean train, and marvel at the Great Wall of China, under blue skies, on your way to Rome. So fascinating, as with the French jet on rails, keep your eye on the castle in the distance.

For if you look down, you are soon sick and dizzy. You are flying. At ground level. Those whizzing bushes by the track give you more information than you need, for an enjoyable quick tram trip from London to Delhi, and then on to Seattle and New York. But if you do happen to walk outside in the air, wash your hair, take care, the airplanes have been out there. Not a diamond among them, flying kerosine lumps of coal, being rude on us down there.

Raindrops of kerosine are falling on my head, but I'm not dead, so what do I care? Nobodies there, so keep on rolling through the sky, until we all die, those coal burning lamps are coming back, Jack, you go with the flow, what do you know, it's a blazing good show, the hotter it gets the less that you know. And us red ants seek black ants where ever they go. Unforgiving Gods or Allahs brought to us in anger and hate. If only, if only, or is hope way too late? No. God is not finished with one life human yet.

Until we can be wise like Buddha, whose wise followers were surely those three, who allowed God to allow them to be a the birth of Christ Jesus. Buddha's last day among life, was in his mid eighties, for those days a great age. He and his loved ones all enjoyed a simple meal, they meditated together until Buddha was gone. His meditation took him to Heaven, Nirvana, as they say. In bliss and harmony, golden rules in full play.

About the author: Derek Dashwood enjoys the combining of science into the humanities to measure politics and use and wise use of power and how it is shown at It's Her Diamond,Let Her Pick