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Neurosonnets: The Naskar Art of Neuroscience

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Abhijit Naskar

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“Mass deportation is human trafficking, but you'd have to have a human heart, unchained by patriotic allegiances, to fathom this. Every genocidal maniac is a patriot, and it's the golden age of crime, when the biggest cartel of a nation is its own government.”

CrimeFascismDictatorshipNaziTotalitarianismCriminal JusticeIllegal ImmigrantsNeonaziMass Deportation
Book:Neurosonnets: The Naskar Art of Neuroscience
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“God is a Gypsy* (Sonnet) Kindness is my constitution, selflessness is divine sanity. To be human takes no scripture, living gospel takes humanity. Men of ritual, men of blind worship, will never know the breath of life, which in a way, is animal blessing, to know life is to be restless with light. To know light is to be restless, to know life is to be breathless, only those without life can sit still, for blindness is boon to the savages. The name is *Gitano - Abigitano; accused of freedom by alien hunters. War is legal, human trafficking is legal, genocide is legal, child-bombing is legal, and you call this civilized and religious!”

ReligionHolinessDivinityNationalismFundamentalismPeace ActivistBlind FaithIllegal ImmigrantsNeonaziDeportation
Book:The God Sonnets: Naskar Art of Theology
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“Human kneels to no ICE or SS (Sonnet 2200) Human bows to no flag or crown, human claims no jeweled throne - rejoicing in ruin of reputation, human stands unbent and alone. Bound to no creed or clan, human kneels before no stone - every place where hate looms, human sings in flesh and bone. Human kneels to no ICE or SS, human fears no dictatorial decree - where chains are sold as holy relic, human comes alive, roaring to be free. Human walks not in luxury suits, but in dusty rags of the street - human feasts with homeless folks, and dies happy at their feet.”

Social JusticeHuman RightsHumanitarianCivil RightsCivil WarHumanistEqual RightsIllegal ImmigrantsFreedom Fighter
Book:The God Sonnets: Naskar Art of Theology
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“She hoped Dad would have liked this burger. No, she knew he would have. Even if he would have raised an eyebrow at her choice of cheese. American cheese was specifically engineered to melt, Ro, he used to say. Rosie grinned at the memory, remembering how it felt to stand barefoot in the grass in their backyard, hands on her hips, asking her father to use some other kind of cheese as he manned the grill. And maybe American cheese did melt really well. But she'd never been a Kraft Singles kind of girl. And she knew that Dad had loved that about her, too. Just like he'd loved everything about her.”

CheeseMemories Of DaddyBurger
Book:Love à la Mode
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“Everyone always assumed it was her mom who was the grilled cheese aficionado, but it was her dad who had mastered the art first. "Remember when Dad would make us breakfast grilled cheeses?" May asked. She and her mom had finally found a rhythm where they could work and talk at the same time. "I miss those," May said. Her mom swallowed, then cleared her throat. "I don't know what he did that made them so good. The Nutella and mascarpone was my favorite. I think he browned the butter first- he always did something to make it a little special." She even managed a tiny smile. May smiled back at her. "I liked the bacon and egg with marble cheese." "He grilled that one in bacon grease." "The house would smell so good." "Except that one time he got distracted by a crossword and burned the sandwiches. It took all day to to get the smell of burned toast smoke out of the house. And you have to admit, not every one of his creations was good." May scrunched her face, remembering some of the worst. Her mom wiped at her eyes and flipped the sandwiches in front of her. "Like the pickle and Brie combo. What was he thinking?" "That wasn't as bad as the pineapple and blue cheese.”

ReminiscingGrilled CheeseFood CombiningMemories Of Daddy
Book:The Optimist's Guide to Letting Go
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