Passionario wrote:IN POLYTHREME THE BED I SLEPT ON WAS A SLAVE. THE ROOM WHERE I SLEPT WAS HACKED FROM SCREAMING STONE. THE WATER I DRANK BEGGED ME TO STOP. THEY PAID ME IN COIN THAT PLOTTED MY DOWNFALL. THE MEMORIES ARE TROUBLING. THIS PLACE IS BETTER.
The Starveling Cat!
The Starveling Cat!
Wraps round your throat like a cheap cravat!
Wikipedia wrote:Despite these obstacles, readers and commentators have reached a broad consensus about the book's central cast of characters and, to a lesser degree, its plot.
Wikipedia also wrote: The opening line of the book is a sentence fragment which continues from the book's unfinished closing line, making the work a never-ending cycle.
Simply Amazing!
The last man on Earth sat alone in a room. There was a knock on the door...
Ms. Tron wrote:Now! King Servbot!
Die falls. Everybody rocks.
'Do what thou wilt' becomes 'the whole of the law' by a mathematical process. The equation balances when you realize who the 'thou' is, as distinguished from the ordinary 'you.'
Tom Lehrer wrote:One of the many fine things about the Army is the way they've taken the democratic ideal to its logical conclusion, in the sense that not only do they prohibit discrimination on the grounds of race, creed, and color, but also on the grounds of ability.
Onward Christian Soldiers,
Onward Buddhist Priests,
Onward Fruits of Islam,
Fight till you're deceased.
Fight your little battles,
Join in thickest fray
For the Greater Glory,
Of Dis-cord-i-a!
Good writers borrow. Great writers steal. Amazing writers kidnap. Shakespeare had a death camp.
Listening to both sides of the story just results in not knowing who's telling the truth. Better to attack first and use Speak With Dead later.
There'll be a lot of people who don't get their Christmas bonus. And I'm just saying, while I don't know much about managerial technique, I imagine that might dent company morale? And when company morale has a company armoury and that company armoury includes at least one bazooka, as a good boss I get concerned, yes?
If our soldiers are not overburdened with money, it is not because they have a distaste for riches; if their lives are not unduly long, it is not because they are disinclined to longevity.
Stalin was just human. Just a genocidal, wyrm-touched, mage-tainted, wraith-riddled, pooka-poked human. No vampiric influence whatsoever.
This man must fall as all men must
The fate of all is always dust
"Oh yes, the Drowned Man is humming tonight, a song in the water like the bones of fish. What is that? I drown in pain as I drowned in the well. No. He drowned. They said - they called him by his name - he need only go up and the priests would take a little. The pigs that slept. The dragon that walked. The mountain that woke. The sea that sighed. The city that crept. The messenger that curled like a serpent around its message. The doors that were roses. The river that came from Hell... none shall remain. The womb of secrets be blasted as with lightning. Take."
ok who wants to play a vampire: the masquerade campaign with me where we larp as warring bloodline factions who are struggling to promote their own influence by carefully changing the historical record while at the same time erasing the other opposed faction from history by the same means. we larp at our computers, the entire campaign is played through wikipedia edits. who’s in
You gotta sing it with that kind of enthusiasm. Like you just squashed a cop.
It didn't seem amazing at the time. Mostly we just clawed our way from one mess to another, hoping our ass came along for the ride.
operator: what is your emergency?
woman: please help, some men broke into my home
operator: not all men are like that, i wouldn't do that
He starts monologuing! He starts like, this prepared speech about how *feeble* I am compared to him, how *inevitable* my defeat is, how *the world* *will soon* *be his*, yadda yadda yadda.
So, I do not claim to be either as bright or as “moral” as the authorities on Natural Law. As some variety of Cosmic Schmuck, the best I can claim is that I have developed, over the years, some sense of the difference between real horseshit that you can step in and Ideal Platonic Horseshit that exists, evidently, only in the contemplation of those who worship such abstractions: and I continue to notice that Natural Law bears an uncanny resemblance to Ideal Platonic Horseshit.
The word 'Onomatopoeia' is also an onomatopoeia because it's derived from the sound produced when the word is spoken aloud.
But it is a victory for me. And where one battle can be won, then the entire war is possible too. So, no matter the increased complications, this day my chances of success have catapulted from impossible to mere astronomical longshot.
And I liked my odds before.