What goes around comes around
His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer.
One day, while trying to make a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and ran to the bog.
There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a slow and terrifying death.
The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman's sparse surroundings An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Fleming had saved.
'I want to repay you,' said the nobleman. 'You saved my son's life.'
'No, I can't accept payment for what I did,' the Scottish farmer replied waving off the offer. At that moment, the farmer's own son came to the door of the family hovel.
'Is that your son?' the nobleman asked.
'Yes,' the farmer replied proudly.
'I'll make you a deal. Let me provide him with the level of education my own son will enjoy. If the lad is anything like his father, he'll no doubt grow to be a man we both will be proud of.' And that he did.
Farmer Fleming's son attended the very best schools and in time, graduated from St. Mary's Hospital Medical School in London, and went on to become known throughout the world as the notable Sir Alexander Fleming, the scientist who discovered Penicillin.
Years afterward, the same nobleman's son who was saved from the bog was stricken with pneumonia.
What saved his life this time? Penicillin.
The name of the nobleman? Lord Randolph Churchill.
His son's name? Sir Winston Churchill.
Someone once said: What goes around comes around.
Decades ago, there was also another noble man. He has a doctrinal dilemma and decides that one of the best solution to the problem of poverty and lack of business acumen within a class is to derive governmental policies to positively discriminate against the other classes so as to develop the prosperity of a class at the expense of the others. He believes that poverty amongst the other communities can be self-eradicated while poverty amongst his own class is not possible for reasons and logics never can be found in philosophy, science or mathematics.
And so he went on a crusade to embark on his doctrinal crusade. Over the years he was successful to built quite a few rich millionaires and billionaires; however, that few is only a Milli-percentum of the class community and that community-at-large remained practically at the same stricken-level albeit a few notch better without factoring in the inflationary statistics.
More than two decades afterwards, the same nobleman had fallen into the same calamity albeit a psychiatric illness. But there wasn't a penicillin that could cure. He now lives in a new age of a new dilemma albeit of his old doctrine.
His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer.
One day, while trying to make a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and ran to the bog.
There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a slow and terrifying death.
The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman's sparse surroundings An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Fleming had saved.
'I want to repay you,' said the nobleman. 'You saved my son's life.'
'No, I can't accept payment for what I did,' the Scottish farmer replied waving off the offer. At that moment, the farmer's own son came to the door of the family hovel.
'Is that your son?' the nobleman asked.
'Yes,' the farmer replied proudly.
'I'll make you a deal. Let me provide him with the level of education my own son will enjoy. If the lad is anything like his father, he'll no doubt grow to be a man we both will be proud of.' And that he did.
Farmer Fleming's son attended the very best schools and in time, graduated from St. Mary's Hospital Medical School in London, and went on to become known throughout the world as the notable Sir Alexander Fleming, the scientist who discovered Penicillin.
Years afterward, the same nobleman's son who was saved from the bog was stricken with pneumonia.
What saved his life this time? Penicillin.
The name of the nobleman? Lord Randolph Churchill.
His son's name? Sir Winston Churchill.
Someone once said: What goes around comes around.
Decades ago, there was also another noble man. He has a doctrinal dilemma and decides that one of the best solution to the problem of poverty and lack of business acumen within a class is to derive governmental policies to positively discriminate against the other classes so as to develop the prosperity of a class at the expense of the others. He believes that poverty amongst the other communities can be self-eradicated while poverty amongst his own class is not possible for reasons and logics never can be found in philosophy, science or mathematics.
And so he went on a crusade to embark on his doctrinal crusade. Over the years he was successful to built quite a few rich millionaires and billionaires; however, that few is only a Milli-percentum of the class community and that community-at-large remained practically at the same stricken-level albeit a few notch better without factoring in the inflationary statistics.
More than two decades afterwards, the same nobleman had fallen into the same calamity albeit a psychiatric illness. But there wasn't a penicillin that could cure. He now lives in a new age of a new dilemma albeit of his old doctrine.
That someone once again said: What goes around comes around.
This is a tale of two cities.
Its a tale!
4 comments:
the country is suffering from subsidy withdrawal.
the poor sections of the public will find it extremely difficult to make ends meet, the companies which have been enjoying the fats of subsidized existence is finding that death is imminent!
more unemployment, more angst is going to hit the road,
consumables going to skyrocket, is 1997 revisiting us in another form? and the last two people you'd want to be in the cockpit when the economy takes a dive is mickey mouse and goofy!
Helllllllpppp!!!!!!!!
Sir Winston Churchill once quoted :
A politician needs the ability to foretell what is going to happen tomorrow, next week, next month, and next year. And to have the ability afterwards to explain why it didn't happen.
What goes around yesterday will comes around today....
somehow in malaysia, the karma doesnt work!
Jefus,
The public must pay the price of incompetence.
Famil,
Ya, you are right.
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