But that was life: Nobody got a guided tour to their own theme park. You had to hop on the rides as they presented themselves, never knowing whether you would like the one you were in line for...or if the bastard was going to make you throw up your corn dog and your cotton candy all over the place.
The poem is like a monster, against which the critic does battle. There is only one way to conquer the monster: you must eat it, bones, blood, skin, pelt, and gristle. And even then the monster is not dead, for it lives in you, is assimilated into you, and you are different and somewhat monstrous yourself for having eaten it.
Stomp stomp. Whirr. Pleased to be of service.Shut up.Thank you.Stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp. Whirr. Thank you for making a simple door very happy.Hope your diodes rot.Thank you. Have a nice day.Stomp stomp stomp stomp. Whirr. It is my pleasure to open for you...Zark off....and my satisfaction to close again with the knowledge of a job well done.I said zark off.Thank you for listening to this message.
He seemed to be staring at the chain hanging from the ceiling fan. Seconds later, he confirmed this by reaching out and tugging the chain. Light clicked on.He tugged the chain again.Light went off.Oh for gods' sake, he had a mean case of ADD sometimes. "Apollo," I snapped.
The world is full of unrequited love,' I said finally.'You and Patrick having problems?' Dad said, reaching around to get the butter out of the fridge.'No, I was just wondering what you would say if I was a lesbian.''Come again?' said Lester. 'I'm having a hard time following this conversation.
As it happens, I’m a terrible dancer. Bears are simply not made for dancing. We’re much better at sitting and sleeping and singing. But there are humans who catch bears and force us to dance. It’s agony. And there are other humans who pay to watch us.’Hannah sighed. ‘I suppose you’re right to distrust humans.’‘And that is why I must eat you,’ said the bear forlornly. ‘For the benefit of the entire bear population of the world. I’m awfully sorry about this.’‘That’s all right.’ Hannah shrugged her shoulders. ‘Is there any point in my trying to run away?’‘None. We bears may not be able to dance but we are experts when it comes to chasing things.’‘What if I climb a tree?’‘I’ll climb up after you, or push the tree over. It all depends on what sort of tree you choose to climb. Either way, you’ll end up eaten.’‘So be it,’ said Hannah. ‘How should I prepare myself?’‘I beg your pardon?’‘Will you eat me with my clothes on?’‘Of course. Otherwise it would be bad manners.
I want gifts and Christmas music. I don’t care how many Draziri are out there. They won’t take Christmas from me.”“Yes, but we don’t have a suitable male,” Orro said. “And only one dog.”I looked at him.“What is this Christmas?” Wing asked.Orro turned from the stove. “It’s the rite of passage during which the young males of the human species learn to display aggression and use weapons.”Sean stopped what he was doing and looked at Orro.“The young men go out in small packs,” Orro continued. “They brave the cold and come into conflict with other packs and they have to prove their dominance through physical combat. Their fathers teach them lessons in the proper use of swear words, and the young men have to undergo tests of endurance, like holding soap in their mouths and licking cold metal objects.”Sean made a strangled noise.“At the end of their trials, they go to see a wise elder in a red suit to prove their worth. If they are judged worthy, the family erects a ceremonial tree and presents them with gifts of weapons.”Sean was clearly struggling, because his head was shaking.“Also,” Orro added, “a sacrificial poultry is prepared and then given to the wild animals, probably to appease the nature spirits.”Sean roared with laughter.
One of the most curious consequences of quantum physics is that a particle like an electron can seemingly be in more than one place at the same time until it is observed, at which point there seems to be a random choice made about where the particle is really located. Scientists currently believe that this randomness is genuine, not just caused by a lack of information. Repeat the experiment under the same conditions and you may get a different answer each time.
Unoka went into an inner room and soon returned with a small wooden disc containing a kola nut, some alligator pepper and a lump of white chalk. "I have kola," he announced when he sat down, and passed the disc over to his guest. "Thank you. He who brings kola brings life. But I think you ought to break it," replied Okoye passing back the disc. "No, it is for you, I think," and they argued like this for a few moments before Unoka accepted the honor of breaking the kola. Okoye, meanwhile, took the lump of chalk, drew some lines on the floor, and then painted his big toe.
There comes a time when one suddenly discovers that there will never be a time for the coming of the perfect person, or believe that God sends people from heaven, so one finds a random fellow, either righteous or unrighteous, excellent or Impaired, and in no time become what God had ordained.
Conventional wisdom nor scientific, mathematical prove of randomness in life could do nothing to deter human's curiosity for the unknown, however small the chance of a positive outcome maybe.
He crouched at the care window and looked in. "What a lovely family you have. What a charming family. They're all lovely. Except for that one." His finger jabbed the glass. "That one's a bit ugly."The American stepped towards him. "What? What did you say?""Oh, don't worry. I'm sure his personality makes up for his face.
Are you watching the boats?" Cornelia guessed. She craned her neck to see if there was any excitement on the river.Heavens no, I'm spying on people," Virginia responded unrepentantly.-Cornelia E and Virginia Somerset
Cora,come on now. You can find a guy in, like, a second flat. Half the guys in the band have you on their laminated list."She rolled her expressive eyes at me. "I want something real, Jet. Something that is life changing and dramatic, something that makes me forget anyone else ever existed. I just can't see that happening and it makes me sad.""I think you're maybe reaching for something that doesn't exist.
I didn't ask you to give up anything for me," she told him, "but I would have given up everything for you." The war is over, and I have lost. War. Ha! As if she could have fought a dead woman. The battle had been over before it began. "Until the end of forever, Layel." -DELILAH
I'm selling Jarod's life today. I mean virginity. He has no life. Email admin@allthegoodonesarealreadytaken.com for more information and please try to catch our special delivery at double-price deals, which will be posted somewhere on the internet at random, every other Tuesday, for half a night (on the previous day), unless it’s a Saturday, in which case you’ll have to wait and hope until the destined day comes and takes you away to heaven, which unfortunately, does not exist, except in the imagination of carefully selected individuals.
Life is random. Life is complicated. Life is often unforgiving. And we must each live it anyway. And I don’t mean live it as if it’s a chore, something to be endured, survived. I mean, dig in, get muddy, howl at the moon, take pictures of sunsets, play in the rain, make love, savor your food, smile as much as you can. And cry when you’re sad. Live it despite the fact it pisses you off. Live it and pay as much attention as you can muster
Osaka: Ah Get to ponderin' when Christmas rolls around. Y'all know Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer? That's messed up, y'know? Saying his nose will help light the way at night ain't no way t'make him feel better about it. If you told a bald fella you needed the light reflecting off his head to see, he'd like to punch you. Santa's a cruel bully.
We all encounter random phenomena, arbitrary occurrences, chance meetings, and eerie coincidences. When we attach our own meaning to these events, we are feeding meaning into the random; we are choosing something arbitrary and assigning our own deeper purpose to it. The problem, though, is that we do this selectively.
Don't become a random photograph in the eyes of friends, and even your enemies, for each glance at your face will cause a declination of value and reputation. Create value, through scarcity.
Theism, as religious people typically hold it, does not merely state that some entity created the universe, but that the universe was created specifically with humans in mind as the most important part of creation. If we have any understanding at all of how an intelligent agent capable of creating the material universe would act if it had such an intention, we would say it would not create the huge structure we see, most of it completely irrelevant for life on Earth, with the Earth in such a seemingly random location, and with humans appearing only after a long and rather random course of evolution.
I have no idea how long Quisser was gone from the table. My attention became fully absorbed by the other faces in the club and the deep anxiety they betrayed to me, an anxiety that was not of the natural, existential sort but one that was caused by peculiar concerns of an uncanny nature. What a season is upon us, these faces seemed to say. And no doubt their voices would have spoken directly of certain peculiar concerns had they not been intimidated into weird equivocations and double entendres by the fear of falling victim to the same kind of unnatural affliction that had made so much trouble in the mind of the art critic Stuart Quisser. Who would be next? What could a person say these days, or even think, without feeling the dread of repercussion from powerfully connected groups and individuals? I could almost hear their voices asking, "Why here, why now?" But of course they could have just as easily been asking, "Why not here, why not now?" It would not occur to this crowd that there were no special rules involved; it would not occur to them, even though they were a crowd of imaginative artists, that the whole thing was simply a matter of random, purposeless terror that converged upon a particular place at a particular time for no particular reason. On the other hand, it would also not have occurred to them that they might have wished it all upon themselves, that they might have had a hand in bringing certain powerful forces and connections into our district simply by wishing them to come. They might have wished and wished for an unnatural evil to fall upon them but, for a while at least, nothing happened. Then the wishing stopped, the old wishes were forgotten yet at the same time gathered in strength, distilling themselves into a potent formula (who can say!), until one day the terrible season began. Because had they really told the truth, this artistic crowd might also have expressed what a sense of meaning (although of a negative sort), not to mention the vigorous thrill (although of an excruciating type), this season of unnatural evil had brought to their lives.("Gas Station Carnivals")
We are surrounded by the absurd excess of the universe. By meaningless bulk, vastness without size, power without consequence. The stubborn iteration that is present without being felt. Nothing the spirit can marry. Merely phenomenon and its physics. An endless, endless of going on. No habitat where the brain can recognize itself. No pertinence for the heart. Helpless duplication.
It is important to distinguish 'pure chance' from 'chance' or 'accident.' Things may happen by chance or accident in a purely deterministic universe...Now there is perhaps a sense of 'could not have done otherwise' in which whether or not a person could or could not have done otherwise depends on whether or not the universe is deterministic.
In between bites of banana, Mr. Remora would tell stories, and the children would write the stories down in notebooks, and every so often there would be a test. The stories were very short, and there were a whole lot of them on every conceivable subject. "One day I went to the store to purchase a carton of milk," Mr. Remora would say, chewing on a banana. "When I got home, I poured the milk into a glass and drank it. Then I watched television. The end." Or: "One afternoon a man named Edward got into a green truck and drove to a farm. The farm had geese and cows. The end." Mr. Ramora would tell story after story, and eat banana after banana, and it would get more and more difficult for Violet to pay attention.
Thank you so much for the rude know-it-all attitude while also having to look at your ridiculously colored hair and obnoxious facial and chest piercings. I am very fortunate to have just been schooled by someone who looks like they graduated from Care Bear Carnage University.
Oh, girl! He's got a big one,” the fortune teller exclaimed, her dark eyes briefly flickering up to Violet's face before returning back to the cards spread out in front of her. She paused for a moment as she studied them, her pointer finger tapping against her jaw. Finally, she added, “Just like a summer sausage, and I'm not talking about the snack-sized ones. And it's attached to a body that could put Dwayne Johnson to shame. What women could resist a package like that? I'd say the future is definitely going to be bright... at least for you.
Random search for data on ... off-chance is hardly scientific. A questionnaire on 'Intellectual Immoralities' was circulated by a well-known institution. 'Intellectual Immorality No. 4' read: 'Generalizing beyond one's data'. [Wilder Dwight] Bancroft asked whether it would not be more correct to word question no. 4 'Not generalizing beyond one's data.
A brick is a biographical film in which a young orphan brick from the wrong side of the track grows up to be one of the most important bricks in all brick kind, as it is now quite literally the cornerstone of one of America’s greatest ballparks.(Fenway)
He openned the door that he assumed was the garage only to find himself in the pantry.crap."Um . . . grabbing some Pop-Tarts for the road," Nick said, covering his mistake. Still, they both stared at him as if he'd escaped Arkham Asylum. Offering them a fake smile, he grabbed the pastries, crossed himself, and hoped he got the next door correct.Nope. Bathroom.With a pain-filled groan at his rampant stupidity, Nick pretended to use it before he tried again. At least there were only two more doors to go.Fifty-fifty chance.Thankfully, third time was the charm.