Our time on this planet as a species,

barely the blink of an eye to Mother Earth.

Do you think dinosaurs contemplated the meaning of life?

Did they worship something?

Anything at all, the sun maybe?

Tilting their scaly heads upward,

drinking in the delicious warmth,

believing their God only returned so long as they paid tribute.

Or is that just a Homo Sapien thing?

The need for purpose,

to believe in a meaningful existence.

What about the Denisovans or Neanderthals?

Did the last Neanderthal know she was the end of her kind,

could she sense it?

Sometimes I feel as if I too am the last of my kind.

Staring at that bit of unassigned DNA on my report.

Amazed by the insanity that plagues our planet.

Does anyone else question the fabric of this reality?

Where is the rest of my tribe?

Do dogs worships humans as Gods?

Do pigs think they are in hell?

I would if I were them.

Do cats think they really are guardians of the underworld?

What if the Egyptians were right and you can take your material wealth with you?

Why do I always have a song playing in my head?

When the big life sustaining star in the sky finally dies will humans still exist to witness it?

The emotions one would face,

such a powerful ending.

Do chickens know their ancestors once ruled the earth?

I hope not,

I watched them pick the bones of our Christmas Turkey clean.

I am grateful to be much larger than those tiny raptors.

Whatever happened to ‘Storm Area 51’?

Do aliens exist or are we the aliens?

It’s kinda conceited to think we are the only life forms in all the universe.

Plus the orange man did create an actual Spaceforce after being told the nations secrets, the things that make you go...hmmmmm.

I sometimes think I must have many more revolutions to go on this earth because my brain has too many questions to be considered complete.

Like that Doctor Who episode where an organically enhanced ship went back in time to harvest a brain for its processor.

They had to locate the correct year in which the targets brain was complete.

I wonder when my year will come.

Are you complete?

What questions do you have?

What answers will you share with me?

Discuss.

not snow in winter,

no rain nor hail.

not fog snd mist,

not summer gale,

not humid air,

that is so thick,

not putrid smog,

that makes you sick.

so ask the wizards,

if you wish,

they’ll clamer so,

in their foul neich,

but you may not expect,

that which,

befalls falls upon the earth.

goopy, sticky, greenish-sick,

smells of rotten frogs in milk,

king Derwin’s own, the foolish tick,

gums up the throat, and cannot shreik,

oh sad you’ll be, the stench and reek,

you’ll yearn to things past, of last week.

so care , my friend of what you seek,

and oobleck wishes , or of that ilk.

Ted Geisel wrote wisely, ’twas not Greek,

i will close and no more speak.

One of my dear friends abroad received a grant to study at university. She is a very intelligent woman - she spoke at least three languages fluently, already had a degree, worked for an international nonprofit, and raised a beautiful daughter all on her own. When we heard her good news we congratulated her and asked what she intended to study. She smiled and told us, “Islamic Banking.”

Which begat a frantic Google search to determine exactly what the heck that was.

The principles of Islam forbid two things which make Western models of banking problematic: usury and speculation. Usury refers to the charging of interest - this is considered sinful and greedy in Islam. Thus banks which follow Islamic principles can’t charge interest rates for their loans; instead, most follow a proft/loss sharing model whereby the borrower shares a percentage of their profits with the bank. Should the borrower default, or the business fail, the bank loses its money as well. Hence Islamic banks tend to be very cautious when giving out loans; the Mit-Ghamr Savings Bank established in Egypt in 1963 lent to only 40% of business applicants on average. Yet their default ratio was extremely low and said to have been zero during good economic times.

Islamic banks also may not invest in businesses which do not keep in line with traditional Islamic faith - this includes gambling/casinos, the pork industry, or alcohol production. They apply the same moral codes of their faith to their business practices as well. For smaller, personal loans like homes or large appliances the bank will simply buy the product outright - meaning they own it - and then turn around and essentially sell the product back at a slightly higher price with installment payments.

Modern Islamic banking resurfaced mainly during the 1960′s, and today there are over 300 Islamic banks and over 250 mutual funds which comply with Islamic principles. Islamic banks serve customers of all faiths and many Western style banks have also adopted “Islamic windows” which cater to traditional Islamic banking standards for their Islamic customers now.

Besides religious reasons many communities embrace Islamic banking due to its focus on sustainable investments over “boom/bust” style economics, and the belief in investment for the good of all not just for profit. During the economic crash of 2008, for example, Islamic banks were largely insulated from the fallout of bad loan practices that sank other institutions. Unlike Western banks, which often make news for predatory interest rates, Islamic banks are seen more as partners to the communities they serve. Thanks to their profit-sharing model when local businesses succeed, so do they; they don’t profit off the loss or failure of others.

My friend, who had a background in finance and wanted to branch out after working for non-profits towards something with a more progressive bent, decided that was exactly the change she was interested in studying.

So there you go - a brief, Google-powered intro to a concept I’d never heard of until my accomplished friend made it her career.

Flashes in the night

Of blood-red violence,

Unrestfulnesses

Cause calm to scatter fast.

Freeze constant motion.

Dampen with iciness

Frustrated fusions,

Ingredients lost, gone.

Where’s that recipe,

My one for happiness?

Desirous method,

But I’ve not got the cure.

Locked doors don’t open

To those who roam aimless.

Where can we group when

We all lie down to die?