Famous Speeches

The Genealogy of Cosmo Pigglesworth

Fri, 16 Oct 2009 14:37:00 -0400

A CIRCULAR TALE

by George Bentley

Rarely in the affairs of men do we have an opportunity to look back at history and seek the wisdom that our forefathers left for us. It is an arduous struggle, fraught with great challenges and heartbreak that often leads us nowhere. Thus is the Homeric odyssey of the great human endeavor, the propensity for mankind to reach for answers that often lie beyond the grasp of us mere mortals.

Such is not the case of our porcine cousins. Swine are a specie that embrace the past and relish in it’s fruits, that seemingly grow with the pride of their ancestors. To be a pig is to be part of an ongoing story that has no real beginning and stretches into the eternity of the cosmos

As a genealogist, I have had the rare and supremely gratifying experience of sitting down with our own Cosmo Pigglesworth to discover the richness of the background of this distinguished member of Cosmopolitan 515. It is with great honor that I come before you here tonight to relay the tale of the Pigglesworth ancestry.

Cosmo Pigglesworth came from humble roots. His parents, Sweet and Sour Pigglesworth, were born in a poor pig sty in Upper Michigan. His father, Sour, worked very hard on the little farm to make his way in the world and to raise his family of swine in the way his parents taught him. He imparted a noble work ethic into most of his children, and led a truly pure and mud-caked life.

His mother, Sweet, was a kindly pig, always seeking to improve the domestic lot of the sty. She was the one that taught Cosmo the ways of truth and virtue that have stayed with him throughout his life.

Cosmo’s siblings were a mixed bag of porcine characters that would rival any product of any sty in the country. His oldest sister, Tender Pigglesworth, was a kind and gentle soul that married young and raised an entire sty of young piglets.

His brother, Pigskin Pigglesworth, was very sports-minded from an early age, and has become very famous by appearing in uncounted high school, college and professional football games.

His younger sister, Sowma Pigglesworth, was blessed with hundreds of teats, which made her a natural to go into government work as a welfare specialist.

When Cosmo was old enough to go out into the world on his own, his humble roots were hidden by a cultured demeanor that attracted the eyes of many a sow. Ultimately, Cosmo met and married Porcina Hoggbottom, of the Massachusetts Hoggbottoms.

The Hoggbottoms were part of the Brahman society of Boston’s upper crust pigs, and Cosmo certainly reached and attained the stars when he married into such a rich family.

Porcina’s parents were Baconius Hoggbottom, a wealthy hog futures speculator, and Sausagia Hoggbottom, certainly the grand sow of Boston porcine society.

This marriage brought with it great opportunity for Cosmo Pigglesworth, and led to his successful career as a sty salesman and ultimately as a land baron. Cosmo is independently wealthy, and chooses to spend his time working with pigs and Toastmasters less fortunate than he, showing them the ways of Smedletarian splendor.

Perhaps no one is a more recognizable figure in the Cosmopolitan Toastmaster world than our own, dear Cosmo Pigglesworth, who appears on all of our correspondence.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention Cosmo’s uncles, the brothers of Sour Pigglesworth.

First is Porkbelly Pigglesworth, a neer-do-well who continuously fails to bring home the bacon.

His other uncle is Porky Pigglesworth, who moved to Hollywood as a young lad and changed his name to Porky Pig, perhaps the best known pork chop in the pig world. Porky is in semi-retirement now, but occasionally makes personal appearances and shows up in cameos in the movies and on TV, where he is sometimes accused of hogging the scene.

So, as you can see, the trials and tribulations of the porcine generations rival that of their human cousins. While we as homo sapiens strive for growth and achievement in our lives, pigs, too, grow and prosper. We need to respect their world as we would respect our own.

And before I depart, I must leave you with a few words of caution. When speaking with swine, never bring up the phrases “pickled pig’s feet” or “Rocky Mountain oysters.”

The Evolution of the Telephone

Sun, 11 Oct 2009 16:39:00 -0400

THE EVOLUTION OF THE TELEPHONE By Sir Donald Wolesky

“Watson! Come quickly! I need you!”

“Yeah, boss—I’m on my way!”

Legend has it, that was the essence of the first telephone call. Alexander Graham Bell picked up the phone, and spoke to Watson, his personal assistant. Watson responded by doing something helpful to the caller.

Ah, those were the good old days. Back in the 19th Century, when the phone was first invented, you could actually use it to talk to somebody!

How times have changed! Fast forward to the 21st Century.

Now, when you place a phone call, you don’t actually talk to somebody—their phone talks to you! Here is what a modern phone might say to you:

“I’m sorry, we are unable to come to the phone right now. At the sound of the tone, please leave your name and number, and someone will get back to you as soon as possible.”

That is the type of response you will get if you try to reach a private party. Simple, unsatisfying, but not terribly frustrating. However, calling a business is far more challenging.

Here is a dramatic re-enactment of the type of message you will probably hear when you attempt to talk to someone at a typical business:

“Thank you for calling Marten Zoological Waste Byproducts. If you know the number of the extension of the person you are trying to contact, please dial it now. If you do not know the number of the extension, try dialing the first few letters of the person's last name. If you have no idea who you need to talk to, you may as well hang up now, because there is no way you will ever penetrate our voice mail shields!”

Exasperating as that message is, it is still relatively gracious compared to the ordeal you will experience if you attempt to call “customer support” at a major institution, such as your “personal banker,” your “health care provider,” or, (the worst case scenario), your Internet Service Provider’s technical support group.

Here is what you encounter when attempting to penetrate one of those diabolical phone systems:

“Please listen carefully, because we have recently upgraded our menu.

If you wish to speak in English, press 1. If you wish to speak in Spanish, press 2.” If you are so primitive that you do not have a touch tone phone, please hang on and a live operator may come to assist you eventually.”

After you press 1 (assuming you speak English), you will be given another menu with a host of other options. Most of these options will require that you identify yourself by using the phone keys to enter in your social security number, personal identity code number, policy number, membership number, account number, or a combination of other numbers, most of which have at least nine digits.

After each code is entered and verified, you will receive another automated message with further instructions. If you somehow manage to follow all of the instructions successfully, the transaction will be completed, and you will receive a message telling you that you may now hang up.

When the system works as designed, you will have spent anywhere from ten minutes to eternity on the phone without talking to a living, breathing, caring human being. Isn’t technology wonderful?

Inventors are such dreamers! Back in 1876, Alexander Graham Bell really believed he was inventing a device which would enable people far apart to speak to one another. How naïve! As we know today, the true purpose of a modern business phone system is to prevent people from speaking to other people at all whenever possible. In instances where human to human conversation cannot be totally avoided, the phone’s mission is to delay and screen calls, protecting the intended recipient from unwanted calls and placing the caller at the mercy of the phone system.

Here is a dramatic re-enactment of that first telephone call, using modern phone equipment:

“Watson! Come quickly! I need you! Watson! Watson? . .”

“I’m sorry, Watson is unable to come to the phone right now. At the sound of the tone. . .”

It All Goes Back in the Box

Sun, 25 Jan 2009 18:08:00 -0500

"It All Goes Back in the Box" delivered at the District Contest by Chris Deanovic

A couple of weeks ago, we had some friends over for dinner. As the evening progressed we decided to play a game. The game of choice was Monopoly. We have all played Monopoly as youngsters right. Well, I was never really any good at Monopoly. I always ended up making bad business decisions and losing right away. But tonight was different. Tonight I was determined to win. I was going to out purchase, out mortgage and out barter everyone else. Sure enough, slowly and methodically I started my aqusistions. Property by property, house by house, utility by utility I amassed my empire. Soon all the houses were accompanied by hotels. One by one the railroads were combined. I took no prisoners and showed compassion to no one, not even my wife. And finally, after a few short hours, I owned the board, and the game ended by me taking the last dollar of the remaining player. Yes he landed on Park Place, and with 4 houses and 1 hotel, it left him penniless and defeated. I was the champion. I was successful. I had created an empire. I had it all-if only for a moment.

Then my wife said something that has stuck with me ever since. She said "It is time go, lets put it all back in the box" Back in the box, what are you crazy? Can't we leave it out? Can't I relish in my victory? Can't I bronze this board and hang it on the wall as a symbol of my accomplishment? Her response, as if talking to child was "No dear, it all goes back in the box, so next time, someone else can play and acquire all the wealth, fame and possessions. It all goes back in the box! It all goes back in the box!"

We live in a fast paced world today. Everything is hurry, hurry, hurry rush, rush, rush. E-mails and cell phones, fast food and pay at the pump. It is easy in the year 2002 to lose site of what is really important. We are living in an age of greed. Acquire more, work harder, bigger is better. We get caught up in fighting for that promotion, or finding that vacation home, or building that company. My how our lives emulate that game of Monopoly.

You see, at some point our lives will come to an end, and we will all leave this earth. None of us knows exactly the day nor the hour, and some of us sooner than others. And just like the game of Monopoly "It all will go back in the box" When we die, all the cars, houses, boats, all the cabins at the lake, time shares in Vail, fancy clothing, high profile jobs, and business started from scratch, will all go back in the box. Your empire regardless of the size will end just like the fictions game of Monopoly that we all enjoyed as youngsters. It all will go back in the box in order for someone else at some other time in some other place to acquire wealth, fame and posessions that we worked so feverishly and diligently for every day of our lives. All the 80 hour workweeks will have been in vain. Nothing else will matter. Now, I am not suggesting that any of these things-wealth, fame, or possessions or the subsequent aqusision of these things is negative. However, there is a greater good. There is a larger game.

That larger game is this. There is ONE thing that will remain here after you and I are gone and that is the experiences and effects that we leave with other people. Everything else my friends is going back in the box. Think back on your own life. Do you remember those pivotal people scattered throughout your life? The ones that left an impact that has remained with you ever since? Maybe it was a teacher, or a coach, college roommate or high school friend. Collegue or Boss. They might have done any number of things to change your life. Maybe it was an act of kindness during a difficult time. Maybe they stood by you in an hour of need. Maybe they believed in you and your abilities long after you had already given up. It is this changing of lives that is timeless. It is this changing of lives that make us immortal. For one change in one persons life, can cause that person to subsequently change another?s life and so on and so on. One act of kindness or motivation or positive reinforcement can create waves of similar acts that will ripple to the ends of the earth.

Howard Hughes had it all, wealth, fame, and posessions. It to all went back in the box, and today someone else possesses it. He is easily forgotten. Mother Threasa had nothing, yet she changed the world forever. Volunteer some time. Offer encouragement to someone who is struggling. Talk to that person you simply despise. Share your knowledge and wealth. Sacrifice for someone else's betterment. Show passion. Be that pivotal person in someone's life. Change someone's life forever, for these are the things that matter.

Wealth, fame and possessions provide us with nothing. For at the end and there is an end, it all goes back in the box.

Keep IT Successful Stupid

Wed, 31 Dec 2008 17:01:00 -0500

Keep It Sucsessful Stupid..by Paul Ahern

Are you ready to enter the success zone???

Are your ready to enter the success zone??

That's not good enough. Are you ready to enter the success Zone???

That's much better! or (that's pathetic, you need more help than I originally thought).

Good evening, friends and fellow comrades in self-improvement

Yes, there ARE secrets to success.

And all of you have the power to learn these proven techniques.

With my help..tomorrow you can wake firmly on the planet prosperity.

Most of us must first reach bottom before we can start on the road to self-improvement.

Because when you are at the bottom there is nowhere to go but up.

And if you are the type of person who would shell out fifty bucks to attend a Success Expo like this, you certainly know what I'm talking about.

You know the miserable state of your pitiful day-to-day existence better than I could ever explain. You certainly recognize how to continue to suffer from the negativity of your own woeful inadequacies.

Sometimes you feel like a mere skid-mark on the underwear of life.

So, let me show you how to move from the brown(?) and into the light of financial prosperity. I'll show you how to rewire your brain for success and take control of your own destiny.

But, why should you rewire your brain? Well, if you haven't figured it out yet, you're not too bright. You need help!! The kind I alone can give you.

Every January, the lemmings amongst us stampede into health clubs in a feeble attempt to improve themselves. But while these "followers" waste their time on a treadmill to nowhere, a few use my proven techniques in order to become the leaders of tomorrow. These are the smart ones who now dig in the mines of financial prosperity.

You need to unleash your inner potential. But very few of us can do on our own. It's not going to hit you by chance. Hasn't yet. Never will.

You need my program and guidance to reach the peak of your potential.

Now, you've heard it before,.all those hucksters who say the secret to success is to be yourself. Put another way. Why don't you remain the dork you are?

Just continue to sit on the sidelines of life.. letting the rest of us, who just happen to know a lot more than you. letting the rest of us reap the rewards from the successful cultivation of the field of fulfillment.

But it would be selfish of me to hide the simple secrets of success from those who want and need to know them. That's why I have dedicated my life to helping guide others just like you into the Success Zone on the Planet Prosperity.

Yes, some will tell you to be yourself. Be Yourself. Hogwash!!!

Why should you pattern yourself after a loser ? ...when you can be a winner? Pattern yourself after a winner ...a winner like me.

Others will tell you that you can listen to one motivational speech and become a better you. But you know that YOU need more for YOU.

YOU need the secrets of the successful to help YOU become the better YOU..that YOU want YOU to be. YOU know it's true.

And YOU know that YOU can benefit from daily motivation to get YOU going.

YOU need. YOU want. Indeed, YOU passionately desire my free 24 minute introduction to my 40-hour cassette course titled "Yes YOU can!" now available in the clear fidelity of CD.

If you are not completely satisfied with my 24-minute introduction, all you have to do is promptly return it in that same day's mail. Otherwise, it's only ten easy monthly payments of NOT $500 NOT $400 Not even$300; but only $299.95 plus $55 shipping and handling.

That's all you need to purchase your ticket to your voyage to the seven seas of success.

With my monthly program you will get:

"The Seven Secrets to Success, Stupid", which is my overview of the basic blueprint to prosperity.

You also get: "You Never Take Me Anywhere Anymore" which is my advice on how to avoid family responsibilities -that get in the way of your professional aspirations.

But that's not all: You also get..

"Sell Beyond Your Potential". Hey, anybody can learn to sell today in the present, BUT I will show you how to continue your success even after you have died. That's right! learn to sell from the grave. The secret is simple ...Planning -lots of Planning -secrets only I can show you.

And there's even more.

As long as you keep making your monthly payments, I won't run out of monthly updates and new topic to send to you.

So don't the jerk sitting next to you get in your way. There's nothing worse than a road hog on your freeway to financial independence. I'll show you how to leave that road hog in the dust, so you can finish first in the National Success League.

So don't delay! This is a limited time offer. The two-minute warning is sounding. Act now, before the buzzer rings on the game of life.

The bible says "Go Forth and Multiply." Yes, multiply your earnings. Jesus, Moses and Abraham were winners ...and you can be one too.

I want you to have a personal relationship with prosperity.

So start my program NOW.

My staff is waiting to receive your credit card at our booth outside the Cosmopolitan Success Expo. OR

Call our toll-free number: 1-800-YES I CAN.

That's 1-800-YES I CAN.

Shock your family, friend and neighbors,

Wake up tomorrow a success on the Planet Prosperity.

Dare to be great.

I love you all. Goodnight.

The Third Place

Tue, 30 Dec 2008 12:19:00 -0500

everal years ago, it was a common occurrence.

In an old part of town, and for almost a mile, the old man moved slowly against the winter wind and snow. Clasping his lapels, he finally reached his destination. Inside, he dusted the snow from his coat, as he turned to the warm greetings from friends he’s known for years. He recognized everyone in that hazy smoke-filled room.

He was at his social club again. It was a place where ordinary people could go and find conviviality, innocent and cheerful conversation - that very useful something, that offered a respite from family and hard work. Somehow he came home from the club relaxed, more amiable and seemingly content, with himself and life.

Once upon a time, American society seems to have had many equivalents of that ethnic club. There was the local tavern, as well as the small-town express office, the barber shop and the corner drug store, were local people would go; anytime they need it’s therapeutic value.

But, have you noticed that, in recent decades, the range of social interaction for many of us has narrowed to the office and the home.

And so the quality of many people’s lives has come to depend almost exclusively on the quality of their family life and their jobs. Not surpassingly, they expect too much from both and are oftentimes disappointed. They begin to relish vacations as their only escape.

I contend that much of what people seek is a place like that old man’s club. Not family-related, or work-related, but a “

Third Place

”!

A

hangout that provides a sense of belonging; an opportunity for spontaneity, surprise and emotional expression.

An aura of the unexpected surrounds each visit to a third place.

One can never be certain who will be there, but will know everyone who is there. People go there primarily to simply enjoy one another’s company with those who incidentally and secondarily: repair appliances, sell insurance or teach school.

To discuss local politics,

To harass old friends,

To complain and gossip and joke about the state of the nation,

To find commiseration on how everything seem to be changing.

The hours go by unnoticed. Many men, historically, have had difficulty explaining just that to their wives.

What happened to these wonderful places?

Richard Sennett, a noted sociologist, says that too many of us have moved to the suburbs. “People suffocate there for a lack of the new, the unexpected, the diverse in their lives”.

Yet the instinct for a hang-out, a third place still exists. Given a chance, kids will always build a clubhouse.

The proprietor of a bar in New York City’s Grand Central Station through which thousands of commuters pass twice a day, may have the right idea. The bar has a glass façade, so that the cheerful, playful group inside is clearly visible. The sign on the door simply reads; “Miss Your Train”.

So now in our society, many people seek out the tavern or the bar, as the dominate third place:

Set it on the golf links and call it a clubhouse.

Put it at the water’s edge and call it a yacht club.

The bar is now the core of what’s left of that venerable institution.

B

ut a third place does not need liquor, it can be established wherever people can linger, laugh and play without being hassled.

Put exercise equipment around it, and call it; “The Health Club”.

A limited version is to schedule it on Thursday nights and call it a “Toastmasters Club”.

(Optional) As the Dutch historian and social philosopher, Yohan Suinga said of play (as a human activity) because it is also true of the third place; “Into the confusion of life, play brings a temporary, a limited perfection”.

If there is a malaise in America today, I believe it can be at least partially attributed to a lack of such places. There ought to be many more hang-outs and there could be, if only people were not so darn reluctant to invest the time, energy and emotions in activities that do not enhance either their home life or work opportunities, but just for the fun of it.

Yes, there was an ingredient in that old man’s life that is missing from my life and probably yours.

I knew that man once, and when he died, I remember the people gathered at his funeral that cold winter afternoon; a few friends from work, his family, and a third larger group; his friends, his playmates from The Third Place.

Confessions of a Picky Eater

Mon, 01 Dec 2008 11:22:00 -0500

........the Renick version?

Confessions of a Picky Eater. by Sam Charchian

Do you consider yourself a gourmet?

Do you eat your eggplant, beets and liver?

Do you wish you were a proud vegetarian?

Culinary experts tell us that any food, which is fresh and properly prepared, has an excellent chance of being delicious. So what is it that sets certain foods apart from others? What makes them controversial and therefore more loved or hated?

Why is corn OUT, but asparagus IN?

Frankly, vegetables can be interesting, but lack a sense of purpose when unaccompanied by a good cut of meat.

Okay, big deal, so I'm a Picky Eater. All my life I have dined under a cloud of gastrointestinal disapproval from relatives, peers, and even fellow Toastmasters.

You challenge my judgment, my worldliness, and yes, my very masculinity - when I refuse to eat ?brandied eel?.

You burp condescendingly and say,

"If you're not adventurous about food, you must lack sensitivity about life and love and good personal hygiene".

Lets get this straight. Because I pass on your breaded moth, doesn't mean there?s no place in my life for women or soap.

I've had it up to my moribund taste buds with your culinary carping. Like anti-smokers and marathon runners, it makes you feel superior, thinking you are explorers and adventurers as you sneer through your "spinach-quiche" stained teeth.

You shout insults at me like, "How can you eat the same thing" every day?

Come on now! I know (to you) I am a catsup stain on the great white napkin of life, so why are you so concerned with what I eat when I couldn't care less about your diet of animal brains, fish eggs and amphibian legs. You snobby foragers call these sick anatomical amputations delicacies.

When I was a teenager, I tried an olive. I hated it. Since then I've led an oliveless life, yet I have managed to secure an income, father children and avoid institutionalization.

Being a picky eater is tough. I'm the Rodney Dangerfield of the dining room. Being invited t someone's home for dinner is sheer agony. People (like you) think you impress me by appeasing your pedantic palates with rabbit cacciatore, sautéed in anchovy juice. I am dying here!

There should be a word for you non-picky eaters. You like gourmet, I like "goat". You, much like human garbage disposals, will eat anything.

Optional:

Being a picky eater has also stained my marriage greatly. Determined to raise our kids as goats, my wife serves hemlock salads and strange fish dishes. She feels that in order to support her epicurean efforts, I not only must ingest this stuff, but also then show the kids that I like it. Do you know how hard it is to say "yum, yum" through curdled lips.

I dislike eating fish greatly. The idea of sushi really makes me sick.

Can you imagine catching a cow and killing it by suffocation? Put a plastic bag over its head and watch its bulging eyes?

That what you "goats" do when you catch fish, and suffocate it in the air. No wonder Mark Twain once said: "Angling is an innocent cruelty". You gotta be sadistic to eat suffocated fish.

I just can't understand you people who like fish. Recently at dinner a friend said, "Boy, this is great fish". I asked why the fish was particularly savory. He said, "Because it doesn't taste like fishy". That is a curious remark.

Did you ever hear anyone say, "I really like this hamburger, because it doesn't take cowy?"

Speaking of hamburgers, what do some of the great thinkers say about picky eaters?

Ray Kroc of McDonalds said,

"It requires a certain kind of mind to see beauty in a hamburger bun. Yet, Is it any more unusual to find grace in the texture and softly curved silhouette of a bun than to reflect lovingly on the arrangement of textures and colors in a butterfly's wing?"

Optional:

Woody Allen once said,

"Why does a man kill? He kills for food. And not only food, frequently there must be a beverage.? It makes you think, doesn't it"

Arrogant dinner party gourmets are usually vegetarians, who can?t have fried foods or bread, are on a salt free diet, can only drink bottled water and are allergic to eating utensils. Some want to see the FDA labels on everything they are eating. And they call me the "Picky Eater".

After all, like Morris the Cat, I know what I like, not like you goats - who sit in restaurants for ½ hour trying to figure out which entrée to order. I can order almost instantly.

You dinning room dilettantes assume your smug mastication, brands you as a connoisseur, a brand you guard like a sacred cow. Well, in the words of the immortal General George Custer, "Sacred Cows make Great Hamburgers."

Maybe you were conned by parents who told you that eating succotash, tapioca pudding and kidneys would make you big and strong. Did they tell you about the one million children in Argentina waiting in line for their Brussels sprouts?

Here is the truth by U.S. author, Herman Melville.

"The food of thy soul is light and space; feed it then on light and space. But the food of thy body is meat and potatoes; feed it then on meat and Potatoes; and so shall it merit a joyful resurrection."