The Old, Old Story of How Five Men Went Fishing.

MANY OF US PRETEND TO BE THINKING, WHEN INSTEAD WE ARE SIMPLY REARRANGING OUR OWN PREJUDICES, OR RE-LIVING AND REITERATING THE FANTASIES OF OTHERS.




The Old, Old Story of How Five Men Went Fishing
by

 Stephen Leacock

(1869-1944)

This is a plain account of a fishing party. It is not a story. There is no plot. Nothing happens in it and nobody is hurt. The only point of this narrative is its peculiar truth. It not only tells what happened to us---the five people concerned in it---but what has happened and is happening to all the other fishing parties that at the season of the year, from Halifax to Idaho, go gliding out on the unruffled surface of our Canadian  and U.S. lakes in the still cool of the early summer morning.


We decided to go in the early morning because there is a popular belief that the early morning is the right time for bass fishing. The bass is said to bite in the early morning. Perhaps it does. In fact the thing is almost capable of scientific proof. The bass does not bite between eight and twelve. It does not bite between twelve and six in the afternoon. Nor does it bite between six o'clock and midnight. All these things are known facts. The inference is that the bass bites furiously at about daybreak.


At any rate our party were unanimous about starting early. "Better make an early start," said the Colonel when the idea of the party was suggested. "Oh, yes," said George Popley, the Bank Manager, "we want to get right out on the shoal while the fish are biting."


When he said this all our eyes glistened. Everybody's do. There's a thrill in the words. To "get right out on the shoal at daybreak when the fish are biting," is an idea that goes to any man's brain.


If you listen to the men talking in a Pullman car, or a hotel corridor, or better still at the little tables in a first-class bar, you will not listen long before you hear one say--"Well, we got out early, just after sunrise, right on the shoal."...And presently, even if you can't hear him you see him reach out his two hands and hold them about two feet apart for the other men to admire. He is measuring the fish. No, no the fish they caught; this is the big one that they lost. But they had him right up to the top of the water: Oh , yes he was up to the top of the water all right. The number of huge fish that have been heaved up to the top of the water in our lakes is almost incredible. Or at least it used to be when we still had bar rooms and little tables for serving that vile stuff Scotch whiskey and such foul things as gin Rickeys and John Collinses. It makes one sick to think of it, doesn't it? But there was good fishing in the bas, all winter.


But, as I say, e decided to go early in the morning. Charlie Jones, the rail-road man, said that he remembered how when he was a boy, up in Wisconsin, they used to get out at five in the morning--not get up at five but be on the shoal at five. It appears that there is a shoal somewhere in Wisconsin where the bass lie in thousands. Kernin, the lawyer, said that when he was a boy--this was on Lake Rosseau-- they used to get not at four. I seems there is a shoal in Lake Rosseau where you can haul up the bass as fast as you can drop your line. The  shoal is hard to find--very hard. Kernin can find it, but it is doubtful--so I gather-- if any other living man can. The Wisconsin shoal, too, is difficult to  find. Once you find it, you are all right; but it's hard to find. Charlie Jones can find it. If you were in Wisconsin right now he'd take you straight to it, but probably no other person now alive could reach that shoal. In the same way Colonel Morse knows of a shoal in Lake Simcoe where he used to fish years and years ago and  which, I understand, he can still find.I have mentioned that Kernin is a lawyer, and Jones a rail-road man and Popley a banker. But I needn't have. Any reader would take it for granted. In any fishing party there is always a lawyer. You can tell him on sight. He is the one of he party that has a landing net and a steel rod in sections with a wheel that is used to wind the fish to the top of the water.


And there is always a banker. You can tell him by his good clothes. Popley, in the bank , wears his banking suit. When he goes fishing he wears his fishing suit. It is much the better of the two, because his banking suit has ink marks on it, and his fishing suit has no fish marks on it.


As for the Rail-road Man--quite so, the reader knows it as well as I do--you can tell him because he carries a pole that he cut in the bush himself, with a ten cent line wrapped round the end of it. Jones says he can catch as many fish with this kind of line as Kernin can with his patent rod and wheel. So he can, too. Just the same number.


But Kernin says that with his patent apparatus if you get a fish on you can play him. Jones says Hades with playing him: give him a fish on his line and he'll haul him in all right. Kernin says he'd lose him. But Jones says he wouldn't. In fact he guarantees to haul the fish in. Kernin says that more than once (in Lake Rosseau) He has played a fish for over half an hour. I forget now why he stopped; I think the fish quit playing.


I have heard Kernin and Jones argue this question of their two rods, as to which rod can best pull in the fish, for half an hour. Others may have heard the same question debated. I know no way by which it could be settled.


Our arrangement to go fishing was made at the little golf club of our summer town on the verandah where we sit in the evening. Oh, it's just a little place, nothing pretentious: the links are not much good for golf; in fact we don't play much golf there, so far as golf goes, and of course, we don't serve meals at the club, it's not like that--and no, we've nothing to drink there because of prohibition. But we go and sit there. It's a good place to sit, and after all, what else can you do in the present state of the law?


So it was there that we arranged the party.


The thing somehow seemed to fall into the mood of each of us. Jones said he had been hoping that some of the boys would get up a fishing party. It was apparently the one kind of pleasure that he really cared for. For myself I was delighted to get in with a crowd of regular fisherman like these four, especially as I hadn't been out fishing for nearly ten years:though fishing is a thing I am passionately fond of. I know no pleasure in life like the sensation of getting a four pound bass on the hook and hauling him up to the top of the water, to weigh him. But, as I say, I hadn't been out for ten years: Oh, yes I live right beside the water every summer, and yes, certainly--I am saying so--I am passionately fond of fishing, but still somehow I hadn't been out.Every fisherman knows just how that happens. The years have a way of slipping by. Yet I must say I was surprised to find that so keen a sport as Jones hadn't been out--so it presently appeared--for eight years. I had imagined he practically lived on the water. And Colonel Morse and Kernin--I was amazed to find-- hadn't been out for twelve years, not since the day (so it came out in conversation) when they went out together in Lake Rosseau and Kernan landed a perfect monster, a regular corker five pounds and a half, they said: or no, I don't think he landed him. No, I remember he didn't land him. He caught him--and he could have landed him--he should have landed him--but he didn't land him. That was it. Yes I remember Kernin and Morse had a slight discussion about it-- oh, perfectly amicable--as to whether Morse had fumbled with the net--or whether Kermin--the whole argument was perfectly friendly--had made an ass of himself by not "striking" soon enough. Of course the whole thing was so long ago that both of them could look back on it without bitterness or ill nature. In fact it amused them. Kernin said it was the most laughable thing he ever saw in his life to see poor old Jack (that's Morse's name) shoving away with the landing net wrong side up. And Morse said he'd never forget seeing poor old Kernin yanking his line first this way and then that and not knowing where to try to land it. It made him laugh to look back at it.


They might have gone on laughing for quite a time but Charlie Jones interrupted by saying that in his opinion a landing net is a piece if darned foolishness. Here Popley agrees with him. Kernin objects that if you don't use a net you'll lose your fish at the side of the boat. Jones says no: give him a hook well through the fish and a stout line in his hand and that fish has got to come in. Popley says so too. He says let him have his hook fast through the fish's head with a short stout line, and him (Popley) at the other end of that line an that fish will come in. It's got to. Otherwise Popley will know why That's the alternative Either the fish must come in or Popley must know why. There's no escape from the logic of it.


Perhaps some of my readers have heard the thing discussed before.


So as I say we decided to go the next morning and make an early start. All of the boys were at one about that. When I say "boys," I use the word, as it is used in fishing, to mean people say forty-five to sixty-five. There is something about fishing that keeps men young. If a fellow gets out for a good mornings fishing, forgetting all business worries, once in a while--say once in ten years-- it keeps him fresh.


We agree to go in a launch, a large launch--to be exact, the largest in town. We could have gone in row boats, but a row boat is a poor thing to fish from. Kernin said that in a row boat it is impossible properly to :play" your fish. The side of the boat is so ow that the fish is apt to leap over the side into the boat when half "played." Popley said that there is no comfort in a row boat. In a launch a man can reach out his feet, and take it easy. Charlie Jones said that in a launch a man could rest his back against something and Morse said that in a launch a man cold rest his neck.  Young inexperienced boys, in the small sense of the word, never think of these things. So they go out and after a few hours their necks get tired; whereas a group of expert fishers in a launch can rest their backs and necks and even fall asleep during the pauses when the fish stop biting.


Anyway all the "boys" agreed that the great advantage of a launch would be that we could get a man to take us. By that means the man could see to getting the worms, and the man would be sure to have spare lines, and the man would come along to our different places--we were all beside the water-- and pick us up. In fact the more we thought about the advantages of having a "man" to to take us the better we liked it. As a boy gets old he likes to have a man around to do the work.


Anyway Frank Rolls, the man we decided to get, not only has the biggest launch in town, but what is more, Frank knows the lake. We called him up at his boat house over the phone and said we'd give him five dollars to take us out first thing in the morning provided that he knew the shoal. He said he knew it.


I don't know, to be quite candid about it, who mentioned whiskey first. In these days everybody has to be careful. I imagine we had all been thinking whiskey for some time before anybody said it. But there is a sort of convention that when men go fishing they must have whiskey. Each man makes the pretence that the one thing he needs at six o'clock in the morning is cold raw whiskey. It is spoken of in terms of affection. One man says the first thing you need if you're going fishing is a good "snort" of whiskey: another says that a good "snifter" is the very thing and the others agree, that no man can fish properly without a "horn" or a bracer or an "eye opener." Each man really decides that he himself won't take any. But feels that in a collective sense, the "boys" need it.


So it was with us. The Colonel said he'd bring along "a bottle of Booze. Popley said, no, let him bring it; Kernin said let him; and Charlie Jones said no he'd bring it. It turned out that the Colonel had some very good Scotch at his house that he'd like to bring; oddly enough Popley had some Good Scotch in his house too; snd, queer though it is, each of the boys had Scotch in his house. When the closed we knew that each of the five of us was intending to bring a bottle of whiskey. Each of the five of us expected the others to drink one and a quarter bottles in the  course of the morning


I suppose we must have talked on that verandah till long after one in the morning. It was probably neared two than one when we broke up. But we agreed that that made no difference. Popley said that for him three hours' sleep, the right kind of sleep, was far more refreshing than ten. Kernin said that a lawyer learns to snatch his sleep when he can, and Jones said that in rail-road work a man pretty well cuts out sleep


.So we had no alarms whatever about not being ready at five.


Our plan was simplicity itself. Men like ourselves in responsible positions learn to organize things easily. In fact Popley says it is that faculty that has put us where we are. So the plan simply was that Frank Rolls should come along at five o'clock and blow his whistle in front of our places, and at that signal each man would come down to his wharf with his rod and kit and so we'd be off to the shoal without a moment's delay.


The weather was ruled out. It was decided that even if it rained made no difference. Kernin said that fish bite better in the rain. And everybody agreed that a man with a couple of snorts in him need have no fear of a little rain water.


So we parted, all keen on the enterprise. Nor do I think even now that there was anything faulty or imperfect in that party as we planned it.


I heard Frank Rolls blowing his infernal whistle opposite my summer cottage at some ghastly hour in the morning. Even without getting out of bed, I could see from the window that it was no day for fishing. No, not raining exactly. I don't mean that, but one one of those peculiar days-- I don't mean wind-- there was no wind, but a sort of feeling in the air that showed any body who understands bass fishing that it was a perfectly rotten day for going out. The fish, I seemed to know it, wouldn't bite


When I was still fretting over the annoyance of the disappointment I heard Frank Roll blowing his whistle in front of the other cottages. I  counted thirty whistles altogether. Then I fell into a light doze.-- not exactly sleep, but a sort of doze--I can find no other word for it. It was clear to me that the other "boys" had thrown the thing over. There was no use in my trying to go out alone. I stayed where I was, my doze lasting till ten o'clock. When I walked up town later in the morning I couldn't help being struck by the signs in the butchers' shops and the restaurants, FISH, FRESH FISH FRESH LAKE FISH.


Where in blazes do they get those fish anyway?

THE MYSTERIES OF RADIO

BY

 ROBERT BENCHLEY

(1889-1945)

I wouldn't be surprised if I knew less about radio than any one in the world, and that is no faint praise. There may be some things , like horseshoeing and putting little ships in bottles, which are  closed books to me, but I have a feeling that if someone were to be very patient and explain the principles to me I might be able to get the hang of it. But, I don't have any such feeling about rado. A radio expert could come and live with me for two years, and be just as kind and gentle and explicit as a radio expert could be, and yet it would do no good. I simply never could understand it; so there is no good in teasing me to try.

As a matter of fact, I was still wrestling with the principle of the telephone when radio came along, and was still a long way from having mastered it. I knew that I could go to a mouthpiece and say a number into it and get another number, but I was not privy to the means by which this miracle was accomplished. Finally I gave up trying to figure it out, as the telephone company seemed to be getting along all right with it, and it was evident from the  condition my own affairs were getting in that there were other things about which I had much better be worrying. And then came radio to confuse me further.

Of course, I know all about the fact that if you toss a stone into a pond it will send out concentric circles which reach to the shores. Everybody pulls that one when you ask them how sound is transmitted through the air. If I have been told about tossing a stone in a pond once I have been told it five hundred times. I have even gone out and done it myself, but I guess that I didn't have the knack, for the  concentric circles ran for only about two feet and then disappeared.

But the stone in pond explanation is really no explanation at all, for there have at least the stone and the pond to work with, whereas in radio you have nothing, absolutely nothing. If people tell me about the stone in the pond once again I shall begin to think that this is a gag worked up by those who don't understand the thing either. They have got to be more explicit if they want me to understand. Perhaps they con't care. I almost think that nobody cares whether I am enlightened or not. (I am sorry if I sound bitter about the thing, but I have stood it just about as long as I can.)

Somebody once did say something which made a great impression on me, but which I can hardly believe. He said that the air had always been full of these sounds, and that all the radio did was to give us a means of catching them. This is a horrible thought. To think that the room in which the Declaration of Independence was signed would have, by mere installation of radio, been echoing with the strains of something corresponding to " I Kiss Your Hand, Madame," or that Robert and Elizabeth Browning held hands in a chamber which was at that very  moment teeming with unheard syllables explaining how to make bran muffins! Reason totters at the thought, and I mention the supposition here only to show how absurd the whole thing is.

But the suggestion is a haunting one, even though you , as I have done, discard it as impractical. If the air has always been full of music and voices which we have only just recently learned to make audible,what else might it not be full of right now which, perhaps in a hundred years, will also be dragged out into the light? If by the installation of a microphone at the other end  and a receiving set at my end I learn that my room has all the time been full of noises made by the Little Gypsy Robber Sponge quartet in Newark ir a man employed by some slipper concern in Michigan, why isn't it possible that it is also full of things I don't know about, such as the spirits of the men who murdered the little princess in the tower, or perhaps a couple of Borgias? I t simply makes a mockery of privacy, that's all it does. A man ought to have some place where he can go and be alone without feeling that he may be breathing in a lot of strangers and what nots.


I will even concede that the air out of doors may be full of sound waves, but you can't make me believe that they can get through the walls of great big houses. They might through the walls of a summer hotel, or even come through an open front door and work their way upstairs. I will even go so far as to recognize the possibility of something erected on a roof catching them and bringing them down into the living room to disturb daddy when he is trying to take a nap. But to ask me to believe that a box which has no connection at all with the outside can be carried about a house which is securely locked, and still keep on playing sounds which have pushed their way through stone walls, is just too much. For this reason I have refused to turn on my portable radio set which was given to me on my birthday. I will not allow myself to be made a party to any such chicanery.


My biggest argument that the whole thing is a fake is the quality of the stuff that domes on the air. It is the same thing which makes me distrust spiritualism--the quality of the material offered us from the spirit world. I am really a very simple minded man at heart and will believe most anything as long as the person who tells me has a pleasant face. I might very easily e won over to Buddhism, osteopathy, and Swedish bread. But when I go into a darkened room with the expectation of hearing something out of the great unknown which will help clear up this mystery of life and death and find out merely that the uncle of some person in the room is still having that trouble with his hip which he had before he died, or that those old gray gloves  which I thought I had lost are in my winter overcoat hanging in the hall closet, it all seems hardly worth the rouble.


It is much the same with radio Scientists have gone to all the trouble of rigging up apparatus which will pull out of the air sounds which we were never able to hear before, the whole ether is thrown into a turmoil, the south pole is placed in connection with Greenland and modern life is revolutionized by the utilization of these mysterious sound waves. And with what result? We in New York hear Miss Ellen Drangle in Chicago singing "Mighty Lak a Rose." The mountain which brought forth a mouse did a good day's work in comparison.


All Of this, however, is probably none of my business. I had better not sit here criticizing others for something which I couldn't possibly do myself. Probably that is what upsets me so[[that I don't understand how it works. I have seen other people make it work and that has more or less discouraged me. They get so unpleasant about it. It would seem as if contact with such cosmic natural elements as electricity and sound waves and WJZ would have a tendency to make a man broad-minded and gentle, but it doesn't work out that way. It just makes them nasty.


I had a cousin once who built a radio. It seemed to me to be a foolhardy thing to do in the first place, monkeying around with electricity and tubes and things, but I said nothing. He read books on the subject and bought a lot of truck and sat around trying to fit things together for weeks and weeks, not speaking to his family except to tell them to get away from there and, in general, behaving in a very boorish manner.


Finally he got the thing so that it would work and picked up some kind of concert which was being broadcast from a station about half a mile away. The selection was a marimba band playing "Moonlight Waves," and he was tickled to death. Everyone had to come in and listen and congratulate him. "You certainly are a wonder, Ed," they exclaimed, and he said nothing to dispute it. Then he tried another station and broke in on the middle of another marimba band playing "moonlight Waves." He was so pleased at being able to get another station, however, that he let it finish. That happened to be the end of that program; so he tried what he called "Cleveland, Ohio." Well, it seemed that "Cleveland, Ohio," was specializing that day on marimba band selections of "Moonlight Waves" and Ed got another load of that for half an hour. By this time the rest of the family had tiptoed out of the room.


The upshot of it was that Ed never moved away from that radio set for ten days and nights, always turning little knobs and looking up charts, always hoping against hope, but always getting a marimba band playing "Moonlight Waves." He refused food that was brought to him, but somehow had whisky smuggled in , which he consumed in great gulps to keep his courage up. Pretty soon this began to tell on him, and he grew emaciated and trembly and nobody dared go near him. His wife got a doctor to come, but he wouldn't let anyone come into the room, simply showing his teeth and growling like an old fox terrier every time the threshold was crossed. And all the time the moaning strains of "Moonlight Waves" dragged through the room, from Detroit, Chicago, Los Angeles, and Boston, until finally he collapsed and could be carried out.


They never found out quite what had been the matter. Some people said that he had built a gramophone by mistake, and that the marimba band number was a record which kept on playing and playing. Others said that he had stumbled on some new form of sound reproduction and had isolated a certain number of sound waves so that they never could get free.  Articles were written about it in scientific journals and he was hailed as an inventor, but it didn't do him any good, as no one wanted to buy a lot of sound waves which did nothing but play "Moonlight Waves" over and over again. he whole thing was very tragic.


It only goes to show, however, that even the eople who know a lot about radio and electricity really don't know an awful lot, and makes me all the more contented to stick to my old banjo. I don't know many chords on it, but I  do know where they come from.

Buddha Quotes

Those who are free of resentful thoughts surely find peace.

Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared.

Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.

To be idle is a short road to death and to be diligent is a way of life; foolish people are idle, wise people are diligent.

To enjoy good health, to bring true happiness to one's family, to bring peace to all, one must first discipline and control one's own mind. If a man can control his mind he can find the way to Enlightenment, and all wisdom and virtue will naturally come to him.

To keep the body in good health is a duty... otherwise we shall not be able to keep our mind strong and clear.

To live a pure unselfish life, one must count nothing as one's own in the midst of abundance.

Unity can only be manifested by the Binary. Unity itself and the idea of Unity are already two.

Virtue is persecuted more by the wicked than it is loved by the good.

We are formed and molded by our thoughts. Those whose minds are shaped by selfless thoughts give joy when they speak or act. Joy follows them like a shadow that never leaves them.

We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think. When the mind is pure, joy follows like a shadow that never leaves.

We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts, we make the world.

What is the appropriate behavior for a man or a woman in the midst of this world, where each person is clinging to his piece of debris? What's the proper salutation between people as they pass each other in this flood?

What we think, we become.

Whatever words we utter should be chosen with care for people will hear them and be influenced by them for good or ill.

When one has the feeling of dislike for evil, when one feels tranquil, one finds pleasure in listening to good teachings; when one has these feelings and appreciates them, one is free of fear.

Without health life is not life; it is only a state of langour and suffering - an image of death.

Work out your own salvation. Do not depend on others.

You can search throughout the entire universe for someone who is more deserving of your love and affection than you are yourself, and that person is not to be found anywhere. You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe deserve your love and affection.

You will not be punished for your anger, you will be punished by your anger.


A jug fills drop by drop.

All that we are is the result of what we have thought. If a man speaks or acts with an evil thought, pain follows him. If a man speaks or acts with a pure thought, happiness follows him, like a shadow that never leaves him.

All wrong-doing arises because of mind. If mind is transformed can wrong-doing remain?

An insincere and evil friend is more to be feared than a wild beast; a wild beast may wound your body, but an evil friend will wound your mind.

Better than a thousand hollow words, is one word that brings peace.

Chaos is inherent in all compounded things. Strive on with diligence.

Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.

Do not overrate what you have received, nor envy others. He who envies others does not obtain peace of mind.


Even death is not to be feared by one who has lived wisely.


Hatred does not cease by hatred, but only by love; this is the eternal rule.


He who loves 50 people has 50 woes; he who loves no one has no woes.


Health is the greatest gift, contentment the greatest wealth, faithfulness the best relationship.


Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.


However many holy words you read, however many you speak, what good will they do you if you do not act on upon them?


I do not believe in a fate that falls on men however they act; but I do believe in a fate that falls on them unless they act.


I never see what has been done; I only see what remains to be done.


In a controversy the instant we feel anger we have already ceased striving for the truth, and have begun striving for ourselves.


In the sky, there is no distinction of east and west; people create distinctions out of their own minds and then beleive them to be true.


It is a man's own mind, not his enemy or foe, that lures him to evil ways.


It is better to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles. Then the victory is yours. It cannot be taken from you, not by angels or by demons, heaven or hell.


You, yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.

Your work is to discover your world and then with all your heart give yourself to it. 


Those who are free of resentful thoughts surely find peace.

Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared.

Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.

To be idle is a short road to death and to be diligent is a way of life; foolish people are idle, wise people are diligent.

To enjoy good health, to bring true happiness to one's family, to bring peace to all, one must first discipline and control one's own mind. If a man can control his mind he can find the way to Enlightenment, and all wisdom and virtue will naturally come to him.

To keep the body in good health is a duty... otherwise we shall not be able to keep our mind strong and clear.

To live a pure unselfish life, one must count nothing as one's own in the midst of abundance.

Unity can only be manifested by the Binary. Unity itself and the idea of Unity are already two.

Virtue is persecuted more by the wicked than it is loved by the good.

We are formed and molded by our thoughts. Those whose minds are shaped by selfless thoughts give joy when they speak or act. Joy follows them like a shadow that never leaves them.

We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think. When the mind is pure, joy follows like a shadow that never leaves.

We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts, we make the world.

What is the appropriate behavior for a man or a woman in the midst of this world, where each person is clinging to his piece of debris? What's the proper salutation between people as they pass each other in this flood?

What we think, we become.

Whatever words we utter should be chosen with care for people will hear them and be influenced by them for good or ill.

When one has the feeling of dislike for evil, when one feels tranquil, one finds pleasure in listening to good teachings; when one has these feelings and appreciates them, one is free of fear.

Without health life is not life; it is only a state of langour and suffering - an image of death.

Work out your own salvation. Do not depend on others.

You can search throughout the entire universe for someone who is more deserving of your love and affection than you are yourself, and that person is not to be found anywhere. You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe deserve your love and affection.

You will not be punished for your anger, you will be punished by your anger.