CityStateCountry

How Orwellian is Brasilia?

I live in Superblock two-one-three Building "T" Apartment four-oh-eight.

Art != Reality

Life is an imitation of art. Sometimes, very possible. Art is an imitation of life. No, it's not.

Art is not made to mirror reality. It is there to juxtapose it. To be the antonym of reality. Otherwise what's the point? We already have reality, we have access to it at all times. Not to art, though, not to this escape from reality. We live in a world of possibilities, and when we aren't given the better one, we do, or at least should go after it. Doesn't really matter how.

Daytrippers

Those who fantasise the most act the least.

If only I'd learn the lesson. Or accept it.

? -> 42 but we still have a question mark

In spite of connotations, there's a problem with a thirst for knowledge. It's still a thirst. It's still something you're going to feel every day, and no matter how much you drink, you'll wake up the next day thirsty again.

I think the big problem is that, no matter how much we care about knowledge, whether you're me or someone in a coma, we'll never really attain it. We trudge on to find the answer to our questions, what do I wanna eat today, would she do me, but deep down we don't have the answers that really matter, or at least that we think matter. And it's probably because it's hard to answer a question when you don't know the question. Douglas Adams might have been joking, no one will ever know, but he hit the nail on the head...even if we do find the answer (and there's no reason it can't be 42), that alone is entirely useless, and can actually lead to trouble. Just like everything else

Everyone is Ramesses

"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"

The second law of thermodynamics is pervasive, and THAT is despairing.

Clash

A pear tree,
A swarm of bees,
Under the burning sun;
Desert heats
Where vultures feast.
But blades of grass
will not be encroached;
The root grows deep
To keep the spark alive.
Soft scent mesmerises,
Puts to sleep: sweet dreams.
The sand is strong,
Slick, and cunning, still
No beam goes through, for the vines are you:
Forever on and so
We sew the line anew

Shark Attack

EDIT: I hate to make one click. Honestly.

Nobdi gives a shit

*knock*

-Who's there?
-Nobdi
-Who is it?
-It's Nobdi
-If's no one's there, who's talking?
-Nobdi!
-Stop this crap! How can you not be somebody?
-I am somebody! I am Nobdi!
-Oh gawd he gets metaphysical and shit
-Will you let me in?
-I'll let nobody in!
-So open the door!
-If there's nobody there, why should I?
-So Nobdi can come in!
-Go to hell
-But...what did Nobdi do?

*gunshot*

And again...

Discussing Usain Bolt's eligibility for the NFL, he cracks another Jamaica joke:

"Then again, we don’t know when Bolt graduated from high school, or if he even attended. Indeed, the term “high” school in Jamaica might have an entirely different meaning."

What the hell? I guess there's a reason these people are writing sports columns and not Conan O'Brien's jokes (I should hope they're better than this...)

Oh, they think they're so funny

Mike Florio, on a piece for profootballtalk.com:

"We just saw Jamaica’s Usain Bolt set the world record in the 200-meter dash. And the first thing that came to mind was this."

How fast would he be if he hadn’t spent much of his life breathing second-hand marijuana smoke?

Hardy. Har. Har. Let's poke the drug taboo.