It’s about time! It will be so nice to finally get this settled. *gets champagne ready*
if you approach them like a staircase. First, set smaller goals that can reached relatively easily, then work your way up to larger, lifelong goals. I have done this for years with great success. My goal at this point is to become the All-Being, Master of Time, Space, and Dimension. Then I wanna go to Europe.
“Poets say science takes away from the beauty of the stars—mere globs of gas. Nothing is “mere”. I too can see the stars on a desert night, and feel them. But do I see less or more? The vastness of the heavens stretches my imagination—stuck on this carousel my little eye can catch one-million-year-old light. A vast pattern—of which I am a part—perhaps my stuff was belched from some forgotten star, as one is belching there. Or see them with the greater eye of Palomar, rushing all apart from some common starting point when they were perhaps all together. What is the pattern, or the meaning, or the why? It does not do harm to the mystery to know a little bit about it. For far more marvelous is the truth than any artists of the past imagined! Why do poets of the present not speak of it? What men are poets who can speak of Jupiter if he were like a man, but if he is an immense spinning sphere of methane and ammonia must be silent?”
—a footnote, a FOOTNOTE mind you, in a physics textbook (Feynman Lectures on Physics, Vol. 1)
It does not do harm to the mystery to know a little bit about it.
it’s like a force of nature, like fucking gravity. I’m weak, pulled along like a limp ass noodle going BLEH BLEH flopping in the wind. It doesn’t matter. I’m in love and I’ll never see you again. You distract me for 25 minutes, but what of the other 90000000000 minutes? Yeah, I thought so. Still, it’s a nice 25 minutes. I’ll fucking take it. Take what I can get…every time.
God either wants to eliminate bad things and cannot, or can but does not want to, or neither wishes to nor can, or both wants to and can.
If he wants to and cannot, he is weak—and this does not apply to God, who is omnipotent.
If he can but does not want to, then he is spiteful—which is equally foreign to God’s nature, which is supposed to be loving.
If he neither wants to nor can, he is both weak and spiteful and so not a god.
If he wants to and can, which is the only thing fitting for a god, where then do bad things come from? Or why does he not eliminate them?
but if the universe is infinite in every direction, then wouldn’t everywhere in the universe be the exact center?
I strongly disagree. It takes one person and some sperm to make a baby. The vast majority of absentee parents in this country and I’d assume the world are MEN. Parenthood for a man is voluntary, but for a woman it is INVOLUNTARY. Growing up, at least half of my friends had missing fathers, fathers they saw on the weekend, saw at holidays, saw in the summertime.
It is always a matter of choice with a dude. He can be a good, devoted father. Or he can skip town. This option doesn’t exist with a woman WHO IS GROWING THE DAMN BABY INSIDE HER BODY.
Men have no place deciding abortion rights.
happy-go-lucky Spoon which I love it’s easy music and comes natural, like urine or swearing. Yeah, it sucks to like someone who doesn’t like you. What a fucking nightmare. I was listening to simplicity to the shit that happens on the surface of life like love and being dissed and not being respected and not fucking getting it. I was listening to easy listening music. Now, though, thanks to some random chick in LA I’m listening to Tool and plumbing the depths of reality. Now I want to figure out the universe and why the sky is so empty and full of nothing as it looks down on me. The moon follows me as I walk but it, like everything else in this haunted cosmos, is dead.
It was daylight when you woke up in your ditch.
You looked up at your sky.
That made blue be your color.
You had your knife with you there too.
When you stood up there was goo all over your clothes.
Your hands were sticky.
You wiped them on your grass,
So now your color was green.
Oh Lord, why did everything always have
To keep changing like this?
You were already getting nervous again.
Your head hurt and it rang when you stood up.
Your head was almost empty.
It always hurt you when you woke up like this.
You crawled up out of your ditch unto your gravel road
And you began to walk
And waited for the rest of your mind to come back to you.
You could see the car parked far down the road
And you walked toward it.
If God is our father, you thought,
Then Satan must be our cousin.
Why didn’t anyone else understand these important things?
When you got to your car,
You tried all the doors,
But they were locked.
It was a red car and it was new.
There was an expensive leather camera case lying on the seat.
Out across your field
You could see two tiny people walking by your woods.
You began to walk towards them.
Now red was your color and of course,
Those little people out there were yours too.