I ate a smartie and a dum-dum in hopes that they cancel out.
Imagine if we had other drinks that were treated as ridiculously and fawned over as much as wine is. "Well, this D-milk has a fuller body, but a hollow and acrid finish; I'd say it was from a Wisconsin holstein that was slightly past her prime years."
Sorry but I've no more patience for anti-vaxers. Nobody likes a whiner after awhile. Ask your doctor if a swift kick in the head is right for you.
Some interesting stuff from Stanford on human behavioral biology...
Always remember to be yourself. Unless you suck. Then pretend to be someone else.
There were so many 70's love songs that talked all about 'making it.' These had me confused. 'Just the two of us, we can make it if we try' 'I think we can make it... one more time'
I was always like 'what? What are you trying to make? Are you trying to go someplace in a hurry? Are you trying to build something? What's the big secret?'
And then I figured i
something out. Given the number of 70's hits that were composed on drugs in the back of some panel van, I don't think that they know, either.
I was always slower than other kids at doing my homework and writing assignments in class, and was never sure why. But I've figured that out, too.
As it turns out, I'm a Timelord. With a defective Tardis.
My mind is a raging torrent, flooded with rivulets of thought cascading into a waterfall of creative alternatives.
Isn't it about time for the good guy with the gun to show up? Considering that 40% of Americans own guns or live with someone who does, what's he waiting on? Mebbe the theory isn't quite so useful?
Nihilism is just a shield used by the lazy and uninvolved.
"Fight for the things that you care about, but do it in a way that leads others to join you." -RBG
Kenosha and such kinda demonstrate why deputizing armed militias isn't generally a good idea. If average Americans don't have enough common sense to wear a mask and not drink bleach, giving them badges and guns and letting them try to figure out what to do in a hostile situation or discern who the bad guy is seems really really stupid.
Why did Britain sail all around the world looking for spices and then decide it didn't like any of them in its food?
Epiphanies I suspect are rare moments of thought that happen to people who are not used to the phenomenon.
If the universe is constantly expanding, does that mean I'm getting taller?
Why am I constantly trying to fix people when they prefer to remain broken?
Since homeopathic medicine is supposedly the strongest when it's the most diluted, if you completely forget to take your homeopathic medication and just have a glass of tapwater, do you die of an overdose? --paraphrase of Randi.
Recently I bought a bottle of Kleinz ketchup; didn't have to wait at all for the ketchup to fall out, but then somehow I found myself trapped inside...
Anyone who devotes their entire lives to studying 118 pages really should learn to read faster.
The Cosmetological Argument: an a-priori ontological argument using reason for the existence of God's hairstylist.
If God exists, does he have hair? If he does, does it grow? And how fast does God's hair grow? At the speed of light?
How long would the growth of God's hair take to fill the heavenly universe? If He has hair at all and He's been alive forever, it surely must be everywhere. Therefore, he must have a hairstylist. If his hair grows, does that mean that God changes? And what causes these changes? If it doesn't grow, doesn't that seem rather fake? Could you picture God with a toupee'? Could you picture God bald? Are bald guys more godly than hairy ones? But since God can do anything and over an infinite time, unless God got bored with it, that means that at one point, everything possible existed, including His hairstylist. Does this hairstylist, by his cutting of God's hair according to the latest fashion, change God?
In the dough phase:
the Hobbit's Guide to the Galaxy.
Olympic Sissy Fighting
I lived in solitude in the country and noticed how the monotony of a quiet life stimulates the creative mind.
-- Albert Einstein
I'm steelyray on that popular ejaculative word-named email system / search engine site.
Some days I'm Don. Other days I'm Sancho.
(Favorites of my own pile, in no particular order):
Times and Seasons
Tibetan Ant Painting
My First Madlib Popup Choose Your Own Adventure Storybook
Jellyfish Propulsion Wetsuit
Great Moments in War Avoidance Reenactment Societies
Street Gang Registration Office
(Most Underrated, probably due to the crash):
Robotic Sign Language Jacket
(Don't bother with these):
Obnoxious Neighbor Active Noise Cancelling
Bald-People Solar Energy Balance Theory
Bad Sci-fi, Starring You
Secret Geek Code Jewelry
(weird theory, poorly communicated, thought out, or misunderstood):
Net Cultural Evolution Indicator Theory
Overdamped-Wave Historical Modelling
Microsurgical Warfare Trends
Fast Food Commodities Exchange
Reverse Fuzzy-Logic Music Genres
(Most blatantly trendy / bun-seeking / overrated, but hey, at least they dont contain pirates):
Halfbakery Limerick Challenge
Call Me -Alx
Olympic Pole Dancing
Junior Mad Scientist Research Set
(Some of my better work appearing as annos in other people's ideas):
"Then the angel who had handed me the scroll turned to me and said, "Son of Australia, write down everything you see here.
Then the 8th angel sounded 7 times, and I turned, and I saw a great chariot, resting upon a giant serpent rising out of the earth, whose back reached towards the throne of heaven. And in the chariot, there were four living creatures. And the face of each living creature was like the face of a bear, with muzzles open, roaring loudly.
And there was the sound like the sound of an earthquake, and the chariot was lifted by the serpent, and strove towards its tail. And everywhere the serpent's body was, the chariot would go, because it was in spirit with the serpent's scales. And there was great fire, and billows of smoke, and now and again the living creatures would confess the praises of the Living God.
And behold, after 3 and a half days, the chariot came to rest. And again I saw the faces of the living creatures, and they were pale and sullen, like the faces of ghosts. And they were speaking loudly. But as I was about to write what they were saying, the angel said to me, 'Seal up the things which the creatures say, for they are filled with awe of the chariot and the serpent.'"
"The male brain is a delicate object, inherently prone to extremes, both of incompetence and of genius." -from a recent lab study.
What good is a fleeting thought?
too fast to be pinned,
it pauses like the Road-Runner;
pecks at the birdseed for an instant
and is gone again;
never triggering my clever Acme memory-catcher--
just wiggling it a little--
And I, the starving Coyote
am left staring wide-eyed and drop-nosed
at the cloud of dust
that was supposed to be my dinner.
One time, I thought I heard that familiar
'Beep Beep' only to to step into the
face of an Acme truck
(on its way to deliver my next trap, of course).
I think the roadrunner works for Acme.
in the oven:
menthol chew toys
Rube Goldberg Olympic Torch Lighting Mechanism
Assembly Lines of God
or perhaps Church Pew Conveyor Belts
My random writings section:
There's a man who's secure in his rock songs of old
And he's writing a parody of Zeppelin.
And when he gets done he knows, if the lines be juxtaposed
Undeterred, he can get what he came for.
woah oh oh oh oh oh
And he's writing a parody of Zeppelin.
There's a line in the song that doesn't seem to rhyme at all
And you know misheard lyrics need screening
In the 'bakery, if you look, recent newbies can cook
Sometimes all our bones are misgiven.
Oooooooooh... makes me wonder...
Oooooooooh... makes me wonder...
There's a feeling I get on the 'Great Equalizer Test'
And my spirit is crying for relieving.
In my mind I have seen rings of cheese and all the best
And the Voices in the Head Caller ID.
Ooooooooh... makes me wonder...
Ooooooooh... makes me wonder...
And it's whispered that soon, if we all write a tune
Then the bakesperson will lead us to reason
And a new day will dawn for those who stand long
And the 'bakery will echo with laughter
Woah oh oh oh oh oh
And it makes me wonder
If there's a tussle among your annos,
Don't be alarmed now
It's just a spring cleaning for the site queen
Yes there are three ways you can vote by
but in the long run
They're still time to be a-listening, friend
And it makes me wonder
Your head is humming and it won't go because you don't know
The bakers' calling you to join them
Dear newbies can't you hear the wind blow and did you know
Your idea lies on the whispering wind
(Funky Gas-Powered Instrumental Part)
And as we find our own abode
Our anno's longer than our posts
There walks a lady we all know
Who draws great pics and wants to show
How moderators knead the dough
And if you listen very hard
The way will come to you at last
When all are one and one is all
To be a baker and not to troll...
Woah oh oh oh oh oh
and he's writing a parody of Zeppelin.
Thoughts are Arrogant Creatures;
they steal from one other all the time-
yet never acknowledge eachother.
Try and call one of the offenders out by name,
and it turns a deaf ear until
just after you're made the fool.
Thoughts are Spoiled Creatures;
Like perpetually backseat-bound siblings,
they whine and bicker with eachother,
Forcing you to take your eyes
off the straight-and-narrow road.
Thoughts are Adulterous Creatures;
While you stare dumbfounded and lusting,
They tease you with their wicked beauty
and reward you with nothing but remorse.
Thoughts are Barbarious Creatures;
They abhor any form of law, order,
frame, or functionality that would
Serve to civilize them.
Why can't they just march along,
And when they arive at the Grandstands
Salute the Grand Marshall
And be done with it?
Thoughts are Wild Creatures;
They cannot be tamed--
Try and catch one for a moment
And instantly you're trampled
By the herd of a thousand
Running helter-skelter in all directions;
And you're left pounded
Facefirst into the dust.
Hoofprints on your back--
Broken and Bleeding--
Unable to Write--
Unable to even Breathe.
Unable to articulate
Or even comprehend what just happened.
favorite annotation of all time, by [po]:
// what we need is a hamster in a wet suit with a tank of oxygen on his back. time events carefully though. //
I am an American.
I am proud; I am ashamed.
My countrymen opposed Stalinism; we fell into McCarthyism.
We created the Bill of Rights. We held slaves at the time.
We invented the computer, We invented spam email.
We invented the telephone, We created telemarketers.
We invented television; we invented the TV dinner.
We captured power of the atom; we invented the H-bomb.
We invented the lightning rod; we fashioned the electric chair.
We liberated France and Kuwait. We turned our backs on Somolia and Haiti.
We financed the Colombian war on drugs. We are their largest market.
We liberated the Iraqis; we terrorized Iraqi prisoners.
We implored the Soviets to tear down the Berlin Wall; we built our own during the 1980 Olympics.
We are thoughtful, creative problem-solvers; we are lazy couch potatoes.
We were founded by idealists, realists, expansionists, interventionists, escapists, isolationists, imperialists, capitalists, religionists, and rabble.
We are heros; we are hypocrites.
We are Americans. We are Yanks.
Yeah, I used to be religious. But I'm just as religiously a diplomat, and I'm not happy about that mix somehow. There was this dream the other night: I was sitting at a card table playing Euchre with God and Satan. They were partners, and I was 'going alone' I think, or else I didn't ever see my partner. An argument broke out between the powers that be (as would be typical) that threatened to escalate to biblical proportions and ruin an otherwise perfectly good card game as well as a few planets, which irritated me. Couldn't they be congenial enough to settle their dispute and leave the game go in peace? They've got eternity to figure it out, so why all of the fuss right here and now? People might not be all-knowing but at least they can be civil with their enemies and not bring on the apocalypse.
In defense of the cliche':
Communication is the primary skill, and the primary limiting governer upon our life's achievement. And unfortunately, we're relying upon a technology as old as time itself as our primary means of dealing with it. It's lousy at multitasking, serial at best, buggy, devours
precious primary memory resources, and prevents more rapid growth all around. It suffers from user errors, arcane rules, bad programming, and a very steep learning curve.
The digital age is not primarily limited by computing horsepower, but by the constraints we place upon ourselves in attempting and needing to verbalize our ideas in a linear fashion. The human mind is capable
of so much more.
How can we break the barriers presented by verbal and written language?
By ignoring our English teachers and embracing rather than snubbing the product of the natural evolution of communication, the cliche'.
Some may object that the usage of cliches is lazy; I say absolutely, and brilliantly so, like any evolution should be--just as our modern sans-serif letters are vastly simplified over Old English characters.
Just as we have a standard alphabet that eventually came into play, and then standard words on top of that, cliche's are the next level of standard, simply trying to happen. They're standard image phrases, trying to form. And we keep knocking them down.
Cliches allow the next level of phraseology to be developed. No professor would tell you to invent completely new words or use a brand new language to express yourself in journalism, so why are we so repulsed by cliches, which themselves are a purer form of the images that we think in than words anyways? They may bog us down into old and tired memes, but 'old and tired' can also be translated as 'successful enough to catch on and be useful.' Cliches allow for higher degrees of 'linguistic chunking,' enabling more complex thoughts to be developed and shared more efficiently, albeit imperfectly, and therefore transmits a broader scope of the entire vision than what would be normative if one were constantly searching for the exact word.
While not always defined in Webster's and not even so easily expressed, cliches have rather precise and intricate cultural definitions which are nearly universal across the common language.
Like the celebrated photomosaics which present works as pixelated collages of smaller images, cliches can serve to express combinations of concepts on a macroscopic level and linguistically compress the breadth and size of an abstract, complex subject into a viewable, thumbnail image.
I won't say Ooolongftangftangbank . But I might write it.