"But what criterion have you to distinguish the strong from the weak?"
"Knowledge and evidence. The tuberculous and the scrofulous are recognised by their diseases, and the insane and the immoral by their actions."
"But mistakes may be made!"
"Yes, but it's no use to be afraid of getting your feet wet when you are threatened with the deluge!"
"That's philosophy," laughed the deacon.
"Not a bit of it. You are so corrupted by your seminary philosophy that you want to see nothing but fog in everything. The abstract studies with which your youthful head is stuffed are called abstract just because they abstract your minds from what is obvious. Look the devil straight in the eye, and if he's the devil, tell him he's the devil, and don't go calling to Kant or Hegel for explanations."
The zoologist paused and went on:
"Twice two's four, and a stone's a stone. Here to-morrow we have a duel. You and I will say it's stupid and absurd, that the duel is out of date, that there is no real difference between the aristocratic duel and the drunken brawl in the pot-house, and yet we shall not stop, we shall go there and fight. So there is some force stronger than our reasoning. We shout that war is plunder, robbery, atrocity, fratricide; we cannot look upon blood without fainting; but the French or the Germans have only to insult us for us to feel at once an exaltation of spirit; in the most genuine way we shout 'Hurrah!' and rush to attack the foe. You will invoke the blessing of God on our weapons, and our valour will arouse universal and general enthusiasm. Again it follows that there is a force, if not higher, at any rate stronger, than us and our philosophy. We can no more stop it than that cloud which is moving upwards over the sea. Don't be hypocritical, don't make a long nose at it on the sly; and don't say, 'Ah, old-fashioned, stupid! Ah, it's inconsistent with Scripture!' but look it straight in the face, recognise its rational lawfulness, and when, for instance, it wants to destroy a rotten, scrofulous, corrupt race, don't hinder it with your pilules and misunderstood quotations from the Gospel. Leskov has a story of a conscientious Danila who found a leper outside the town, and fed and warmed him in the name of love and of Christ. If that Danila had really loved humanity, he would have dragged the leper as far as possible from the town, and would have flung him in a pit, and would have gone to save the healthy. Christ, I hope, taught us a rational, intelligent, practical love."
"What a fellow you are!" laughed the deacon. "You don't believe in Christ. Why do you mention His name so often?"
"Yes, I do believe in Him. Only, of course, in my own way, not in yours. Oh, deacon, deacon!" laughed the zoologist; he put his arm round the deacon's waist, and said gaily: "Well? Are you coming with us to the duel to-morrow?"
"But what criterion have you to distinguish the strong from the weak?"
"Knowledge and evidence. The tuberculous and the scrofulous are recognised by their diseases, and the insane and the immoral by their actions."
"But mistakes may be made!"
"Yes, but it's no use to be afraid of getting your feet wet when you are threatened with the deluge!"
"That's philosophy," laughed the deacon.
"Not a bit of it. You are so corrupted by your seminary philosophy that you want to see nothing but fog in everything. The abstract studies with which your youthful head is stuffed are called abstract just because they abstract your minds from what is obvious. Look the devil straight in the eye, and if he's the devil, tell him he's the devil, and don't go calling to Kant or Hegel for explanations."
The zoologist paused and went on:
"Twice two's four, and a stone's a stone. Here to-morrow we have a duel. You and I will say it's stupid and absurd, that the duel is out of date, that there is no real difference between the aristocratic duel and the drunken brawl in the pot-house, and yet we shall not stop, we shall go there and fight. So there is some force stronger than our reasoning. We shout that war is plunder, robbery, atrocity, fratricide; we cannot look upon blood without fainting; but the French or the Germans have only to insult us for us to feel at once an exaltation of spirit; in the most genuine way we shout 'Hurrah!' and rush to attack the foe. You will invoke the blessing of God on our weapons, and our valour will arouse universal and general enthusiasm. Again it follows that there is a force, if not higher, at any rate stronger, than us and our philosophy. We can no more stop it than that cloud which is moving upwards over the sea. Don't be hypocritical, don't make a long nose at it on the sly; and don't say, 'Ah, old-fashioned, stupid! Ah, it's inconsistent with Scripture!' but look it straight in the face, recognise its rational lawfulness, and when, for instance, it wants to destroy a rotten, scrofulous, corrupt race, don't hinder it with your pilules and misunderstood quotations from the Gospel. Leskov has a story of a conscientious Danila who found a leper outside the town, and fed and warmed him in the name of love and of Christ. If that Danila had really loved humanity, he would have dragged the leper as far as possible from the town, and would have flung him in a pit, and would have gone to save the healthy. Christ, I hope, taught us a rational, intelligent, practical love."
"What a fellow you are!" laughed the deacon. "You don't believe in Christ. Why do you mention His name so often?"
"Yes, I do believe in Him. Only, of course, in my own way, not in yours. Oh, deacon, deacon!" laughed the zoologist; he put his arm round the deacon's waist, and said gaily: "Well? Are you coming with us to the duel to-morrow?"
You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
(10:53:57 PM) ***CentralAve does the flipways tap dance while holding a flower
(10:54:05 PM) Cultist: the what
(10:57:09 PM) CentralAve: @g the flipways tap dance while holding a flower > Cultist
(10:57:09 PM) Omnipresence: Cultist: Google: (1/1) http://www.fullbooks.com/Every-Soul-Hath-Its-Song2.html — Part 2 - FullBooks.com: "Honest, you're the greatest kid to squirm when you think a girl is going to pin you .... of Seligman's florist shop, which occupied the ground (+201 more characters)
"But what criterion have you to distinguish the strong from the weak?"
"Knowledge and evidence. The tuberculous and the scrofulous are recognised by their diseases, and the insane and the immoral by their actions."
"But mistakes may be made!"
"Yes, but it's no use to be afraid of getting your feet wet when you are threatened with the deluge!"
"That's philosophy," laughed the deacon.
"Not a bit of it. You are so corrupted by your seminary philosophy that you want to see nothing but fog in everything. The abstract studies with which your youthful head is stuffed are called abstract just because they abstract your minds from what is obvious. Look the devil straight in the eye, and if he's the devil, tell him he's the devil, and don't go calling to Kant or Hegel for explanations."
The zoologist paused and went on:
"Twice two's four, and a stone's a stone. Here to-morrow we have a duel. You and I will say it's stupid and absurd, that the duel is out of date, that there is no real difference between the aristocratic duel and the drunken brawl in the pot-house, and yet we shall not stop, we shall go there and fight. So there is some force stronger than our reasoning. We shout that war is plunder, robbery, atrocity, fratricide; we cannot look upon blood without fainting; but the French or the Germans have only to insult us for us to feel at once an exaltation of spirit; in the most genuine way we shout 'Hurrah!' and rush to attack the foe. You will invoke the blessing of God on our weapons, and our valour will arouse universal and general enthusiasm. Again it follows that there is a force, if not higher, at any rate stronger, than us and our philosophy. We can no more stop it than that cloud which is moving upwards over the sea. Don't be hypocritical, don't make a long nose at it on the sly; and don't say, 'Ah, old-fashioned, stupid! Ah, it's inconsistent with Scripture!' but look it straight in the face, recognise its rational lawfulness, and when, for instance, it wants to destroy a rotten, scrofulous, corrupt race, don't hinder it with your pilules and misunderstood quotations from the Gospel. Leskov has a story of a conscientious Danila who found a leper outside the town, and fed and warmed him in the name of love and of Christ. If that Danila had really loved humanity, he would have dragged the leper as far as possible from the town, and would have flung him in a pit, and would have gone to save the healthy. Christ, I hope, taught us a rational, intelligent, practical love."
"What a fellow you are!" laughed the deacon. "You don't believe in Christ. Why do you mention His name so often?"
"Yes, I do believe in Him. Only, of course, in my own way, not in yours. Oh, deacon, deacon!" laughed the zoologist; he put his arm round the deacon's waist, and said gaily: "Well? Are you coming with us to the duel to-morrow?"
"But what criterion have you to distinguish the strong from the weak?"
"Knowledge and evidence. The tuberculous and the scrofulous are recognised by their diseases, and the insane and the immoral by their actions."
"But mistakes may be made!"
"Yes, but it's no use to be afraid of getting your feet wet when you are threatened with the deluge!"
"That's philosophy," laughed the deacon.
"Not a bit of it. You are so corrupted by your seminary philosophy that you want to see nothing but fog in everything. The abstract studies with which your youthful head is stuffed are called abstract just because they abstract your minds from what is obvious. Look the devil straight in the eye, and if he's the devil, tell him he's the devil, and don't go calling to Kant or Hegel for explanations."
The zoologist paused and went on:
"Twice two's four, and a stone's a stone. Here to-morrow we have a duel. You and I will say it's stupid and absurd, that the duel is out of date, that there is no real difference between the aristocratic duel and the drunken brawl in the pot-house, and yet we shall not stop, we shall go there and fight. So there is some force stronger than our reasoning. We shout that war is plunder, robbery, atrocity, fratricide; we cannot look upon blood without fainting; but the French or the Germans have only to insult us for us to feel at once an exaltation of spirit; in the most genuine way we shout 'Hurrah!' and rush to attack the foe. You will invoke the blessing of God on our weapons, and our valour will arouse universal and general enthusiasm. Again it follows that there is a force, if not higher, at any rate stronger, than us and our philosophy. We can no more stop it than that cloud which is moving upwards over the sea. Don't be hypocritical, don't make a long nose at it on the sly; and don't say, 'Ah, old-fashioned, stupid! Ah, it's inconsistent with Scripture!' but look it straight in the face, recognise its rational lawfulness, and when, for instance, it wants to destroy a rotten, scrofulous, corrupt race, don't hinder it with your pilules and misunderstood quotations from the Gospel. Leskov has a story of a conscientious Danila who found a leper outside the town, and fed and warmed him in the name of love and of Christ. If that Danila had really loved humanity, he would have dragged the leper as far as possible from the town, and would have flung him in a pit, and would have gone to save the healthy. Christ, I hope, taught us a rational, intelligent, practical love."
"What a fellow you are!" laughed the deacon. "You don't believe in Christ. Why do you mention His name so often?"
"Yes, I do believe in Him. Only, of course, in my own way, not in yours. Oh, deacon, deacon!" laughed the zoologist; he put his arm round the deacon's waist, and said gaily: "Well? Are you coming with us to the duel to-morrow?"
Successfully created the first five seconds or so of my game.
Sort of. The initial event won't trigger unless there's a graphic of some sort attached to it (forcing me to make the initial conversation take place with a butterfly). But it's something.
You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
Wiaterman, we need to talk
Ther'es been a problem with my business fventure
You mean this reataruant?
No, silly
I mean Uncle Chef's Underewater Hard Drive Storage
Oh, that
Did you ever get that lawsuit dismiessed?
I don't wanna talka bout it
Anyway, I might have to close up shop
Aww. Why chef,?
Because...I haven't had acusotmer in over two years
Aww, I"m sorry chef
I can't imagine why not
I know, right?
When did people stop neding their hard drives submerged in Lake Erie?
Successfully created the first five seconds or so of my game.
Sort of. The initial event won't trigger unless there's a graphic of some sort attached to it (forcing me to make the initial conversation take place with a butterfly). But it's something.
I did it, despite it probably turning out to be a bad idea that will end in an enraged Lottery of Babylon buying me a redtext avatar.
He's an irrationally angry and insignificant little man who will give himself an aneurysm over nothing one day, and that is sad. It's not even like he's having fun.
It's a Jorge Luis Borges story about a lottery that controls everything, which is and isn't a metaphor for fate. It's a beautiful little story, and probably has inspired a few metal bands.
You know what's NOT fun? Literary criticism where someone explains a book entirely through references to a strawman who is their diametric opposite and is incapable of enjoying or not enjoying something for the same reasons they do.
The place isn't even bad anymore, it's just cold and boring.
It's a lot like walking into a middle class town. No one's going to outright call you a criminal, but everyone's really suspicious of you and no one really wants you there.
The place isn't even bad anymore, it's just cold and boring.
It's a lot like walking into a middle class town. No one's going to outright call you a criminal, but everyone's really suspicious of you and no one really wants you there.
They didn't like you?
I posted there yesterday...I'm not really known around there anymore...
The place isn't even bad anymore, it's just cold and boring.
It's a lot like walking into a middle class town. No one's going to outright call you a criminal, but everyone's really suspicious of you and no one really wants you there.
They didn't like you?
I posted there yesterday...I'm not really known around there anymore...
You crusha ma dreams, nonney. You crusha ma dreams.
A while ago I tried to have my userpage and stuff removed from TVTropes, but for some reason the request was denied.
But if I start feeling strongly about it again, I guess I can just edit it to be blank. Or tell them I have a Something Awful account, that probably works.
A while ago I tried to have my userpage and stuff removed from TVTropes, but for some reason the request was denied.
But if I start feeling strongly about it again, I guess I can just edit it to be blank. Or tell them I have a Something Awful account, that probably works.
I tried to have my entry in the Music section deleted while I was still a member there and they denied that too. idk.
You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
Comments
"Knowledge and evidence. The tuberculous and the scrofulous are recognised by their diseases, and the insane and the immoral by their actions."
"But mistakes may be made!"
"Yes, but it's no use to be afraid of getting your feet wet when you are threatened with the deluge!"
"That's philosophy," laughed the deacon.
"Not a bit of it. You are so corrupted by your seminary philosophy that you want to see nothing but fog in everything. The abstract studies with which your youthful head is stuffed are called abstract just because they abstract your minds from what is obvious. Look the devil straight in the eye, and if he's the devil, tell him he's the devil, and don't go calling to Kant or Hegel for explanations."
The zoologist paused and went on:
"Twice two's four, and a stone's a stone. Here to-morrow we have a duel. You and I will say it's stupid and absurd, that the duel is out of date, that there is no real difference between the aristocratic duel and the drunken brawl in the pot-house, and yet we shall not stop, we shall go there and fight. So there is some force stronger than our reasoning. We shout that war is plunder, robbery, atrocity, fratricide; we cannot look upon blood without fainting; but the French or the Germans have only to insult us for us to feel at once an exaltation of spirit; in the most genuine way we shout 'Hurrah!' and rush to attack the foe. You will invoke the blessing of God on our weapons, and our valour will arouse universal and general enthusiasm. Again it follows that there is a force, if not higher, at any rate stronger, than us and our philosophy. We can no more stop it than that cloud which is moving upwards over the sea. Don't be hypocritical, don't make a long nose at it on the sly; and don't say, 'Ah, old-fashioned, stupid! Ah, it's inconsistent with Scripture!' but look it straight in the face, recognise its rational lawfulness, and when, for instance, it wants to destroy a rotten, scrofulous, corrupt race, don't hinder it with your pilules and misunderstood quotations from the Gospel. Leskov has a story of a conscientious Danila who found a leper outside the town, and fed and warmed him in the name of love and of Christ. If that Danila had really loved humanity, he would have dragged the leper as far as possible from the town, and would have flung him in a pit, and would have gone to save the healthy. Christ, I hope, taught us a rational, intelligent, practical love."
"What a fellow you are!" laughed the deacon. "You don't believe in Christ. Why do you mention His name so often?"
"Yes, I do believe in Him. Only, of course, in my own way, not in yours. Oh, deacon, deacon!" laughed the zoologist; he put his arm round the deacon's waist, and said gaily: "Well? Are you coming with us to the duel to-morrow?"
Currently, it's pretty much exactly what I expected a band called Aztec Camera to sound like.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
IT"S A HUNDRED
SHUT IT OFF
It's pretty alright. The opening track in particular is killer.
Because, dammit, I want to laugh at silly stuff on TvT sometimes.
You know what's NOT fun? Literary criticism where someone explains a book entirely through references to a strawman who is their diametric opposite and is incapable of enjoying or not enjoying something for the same reasons they do.
The place isn't even bad anymore, it's just cold and boring.
It's a lot like walking into a middle class town. No one's going to outright call you a criminal, but everyone's really suspicious of you and no one really wants you there.
Yeah, but that's more of a reaction than a response.
So, odra, laughing at silly stuff as in:
Fridge logic: a muppets ad for Denny's showed miss Piggy eating roast beef there.
Well, to be fair, miss Piggy is made of felt.
To be fair, so is the food at Denny's.
Or do you mean like mocking and stuff? Ali is sad when people mock Ali's fellow fools.
@Mojave: Oh, say it ain't so, Mo! I still have fond memories and a desire to be unbanned. Stupid reality interfering with how I want things to be.
You crusha ma dreams, nonney. You crusha ma dreams.
RESURGAM.
A stupid soaping joke, and nobody is laughing.
is fear itself