Bruhdooh's Keyboard Analyzing Text

His neighbor, trying to be helpful but failing, cornered Bill in the parking lot to explain how cryogenic scientists could freeze his brain in ice until a point in the future when microscopic robots could repair it. Bill daydreamed about all the brains in jars he used to see at school. How he used to wonder whether there were still somehow pieces of individuals inside - scattered fragments of partial dreams or lost memories lodged deep within that dead tissue - or whether this entire archive is immediately erased the moment that the body fails. He began to think of people in a new light; how everyone's just little more than that frightened, fragile brain stem surrounded by meat and physics. Too terrified to recognize the sum of their parts, insulated in the shells of their skulls and lower middle class houses: afraid of change, afraid of decisions, afraid of pain, stuck in traffic listening to terrible music. A material difference may be observed in the games of antiquity: the most eminent of the Greeks were actors, the Romans were merely spectators. The Olympic stadium was open to wealth, merit, and ambition; and if the candidates could depend on their personal skill and activity, they might pursue the footsteps of Diomede and Menelaus, and conduct their own horses in the rapid career... But a senator, or even a citizen, conscious of his dignity, would have blushed to expose his person or his horses in the circus of Rome. The games were established at the expense of the republic, the magistrates, or the emperors; but the reins were abandoned to servile hands; and if the profits of a favourite charioteer sometimes exceeded those of an advocate, they must be considered as the effects of popular extravagance, and the high wages of a disgraceful profession. Control over consciousness cannot be institutionalized. As soon as it becomes part of a set of social rules and norms, it ceases to be effective in the way it was originally intended to be. Routinization, unfortunately, tends to take place very rapidly. Freud was still alive when his quest for liberating the ego from its oppressors was turned into a staid ideology and a rigidly regulated profession. Marx was even less fortunate: his attempts to free consciousness from the tyranny of economic exploitation were soon turned into a system of repression that would have boggled the poor founder's mind. And as Dostoevsky among many others have observed, if Christ had returned to preach his message of liberation in the Middle Ages, he would have been crucified again and again by the leaders of that very church whose worldly power was built on his name. It is pleasing to human vanity to believe that one suffers because of one's virtues; but not until a man has extirpated every sickly, bitter, and impure thought from his mind, and washed every sinful stain from his soul, can he be in a position to know and declare that his sufferings are the result of his good, and not of his bad qualities; and on the way to, yet long before he has reached, that supreme perfection, he will have found, working in his mind and life, the Great Law which is absolutely just, and which cannot, therefore, give good for evil, evil for good. Possessed of such knowledge, he will then know, looking back upon his past ignorance and blindness, that his life is, and always was, justly ordered, and that all his past experiences, good and bad, were the equitable outworking of his evolving, yet unevolved self. Aladeen: Hey, do you remember my favorite sports car? Nadal: You mean your Porsche? Aladeen: Yes... the 911. Nadal: 911, it's the best! Aladeen: So I was driving the 911 near the Palace one day... and I totally crashed! Aladeen: It's okay, I've already ordered a new one. A brand new 911 2012. Nadal: You know, while you are here, you should try to see some of the sights such as the Empire State Building and Yankee Stadium. Aladeen: And I'd love to see the fireworks over the Statue of Liberty. Nadal: Hey, have your old back problems been bothering you? Aladeen: Oh, it's been terrible! It got so bad that I made myself a back brace. Nadal: Really? Aladeen: Yes, look, I'm still wearing it. Aladeen: Hey, my English is getting good. I bet I can count down from five faster than you can! Aladeen and Nadal: Five, four, three, two, one! Everything will continue eternally by performing repetition. Time is located within this accumulation of repetition. Here, life is not a beginning and death is not an ending. Your soul will travel on to the next life and again on to the next. This journey will never come to an end. Everything will continue eternally by performing repetition. Eventually your soul will speak to you. The soul will speak of the time spent with each journey. Your life is one part of this enormous transmigration. The infinite repetition of life creates this enormous transmigration. All that has been accumulated is of value. Fortune and misfortune, pleasure and suffering, the useful and useless. All that has been acquired will be inherited to the next life. Your soul will continue this traveling eternally. Into the infinite and eternal future. Dozens of companies, even those that had little or nothing to do with the Net, changed their names to include web-oriented designations such as dot.com, dotnet, or Internet. Three researchers from Purdue University, M. Cooper, D. Dimitrov, and P. R. Rau, studied sixty-three companies that changed their names in 1998 and 1999 to include some web orientation. Measuring the price change of the companies from five days prior to a name change (when word of the change began to leak out) to five days after the change was announced, they confirmed a remarkable effect. Companies that changed their names enjoyed an increase in price during that ten-day period that was 125 percent greater than that of their peers. This price increase occurred even when the company's core business had nothing whatsoever to do with the Net. Let me get two hamburgers with just pickles, two cheeseburgers, and another cheeseburger everything on them, four more hamburgers with everything, a cheeseburger with no pickles, and a cheeseburger with nothing but pickles, two more hamburgers with everything but onions on one and everything but pickles, mustard, and tomatoes on the other, three large fries, six medium fries, one large fry, a junior fry, and two junior fries, two more cheeseburgers with extra cheese and bacon, two more junior fries, and a hamburger with everything, two more hamburgers with everything, and two more hamburgers with everything, four large cokes, and a large sprite, two large cokes, and a small sprite, five large cokes, and one large coke, and a small coke, three small cokes, and a small coke, and a small coke. Hi my name is Jane. We hardly know each other, but that's about to change. Here you're going to get to know a lot about me, and maybe even more than you can imagine. This whole thing's kinda like a blind date - I mean here you are in your brand-new Corvette, running along the superinformation highway. Put your big muscular arm around me and whisper sweet things in my ear. And I'll promise to do whatever your little heart desires. BUT, only if you make the right moves. Just imagine watching me get propositioned by my sleaze bald boss. BUT, if you make the wrong moves. You could turn me into a nun. Imagine that. Me?! A nun? HA! I don't think so. But it's really all up to you. God knows what you'll do with that hot little mouse of yours. Point is: life's a game, and this game is full of life. 	Have you ever heard the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise? I thought not. It's not a story the Jedi would tell you. It's a Sith legend. Darth Plagueis the Wise was a Dark Lord of the Sith, so powerful and so wise he could use the Force to influence the midichlorians to create life. He had such a knowledge of the Dark Side, he could even stop the ones he cared about from dying. The Dark Side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be unnatural. He became so powerful... the only thing he was afraid of was losing his power, which eventually, of course, he did. Unfortunately, he taught his apprentice everything he knew, and his apprentice killed him in his sleep. Plagueis never saw it coming. It's ironic he could save others from dying, but not himself. What is my perfect crime? I break into Tiffany's at midnight. Do I go for the vault? No, I go for the chandelier. It's priceless. As I'm taking it down, a woman catches me. She tells me to stop. It's her father's business. She's Tiffany. I say no. We make love all night. In the morning, the cops come and I escape in one of their uniforms. I tell her to meet me in Mexico, but I go to Canada. I don't trust her. Besides, I like the cold. Thirty years later, I get a postcard. I have a son and he's the chief of police. This is where the story gets interesting. I tell Tiffany to meet me in Paris by the Trocadero. She's been waiting for me all these years. She's never taken another lover. I don't care. I don't show up. I go to Berlin. That's where I stashed the chandelier. I think a lot about the way it ends -- the kind of things no one ever wants me to say again. But the line's in my mind so when I peace I'll know I had the best times, with the greatest friends. That's why I own it, live in the moment, trying to make the most of it, notice the unnoticed. And any stacks that I stack, well that's a bonus, I've seen too many dull folks working the wrong motives. So while you're napping in the afternoon, I'm in the classroom raising up my hand, yes I'm that dude. I'm in the Cancun sands, just passing through 'til I'm in the studio booth checking these raps too. And if you're waiting for anybody to ask you where your passion falls or what you have to do, then consider this your call to be all you can be. Stand up tall, hustle, no plan B. Why would a Wookiee, an 8-foot-tall Wookiee, want to live on Endor, with a bunch of 2-foot-tall Ewoks? That does not make sense! But more important, you have to ask yourself: What does this have to do with this case? Nothing. Ladies and gentlemen, it has nothing to do with this case! It does not make sense! Look at me. I'm a lawyer defending a major record company, and I'm talkin' about Chewbacca! Does that make sense? Ladies and gentlemen, I am not making any sense! None of this makes sense! And so you have to remember, when you're in that jury room deliberatin' and conjugatin' the Emancipation Proclamation, does it make sense? No! Ladies and gentlemen of this supposed jury, it does not make sense! If Chewbacca lives on Endor, you must acquit! The defense rests. My name is Tou-gyou. I am the King of Tong-nou. Rin, I too have been set free with your Katana. Tong-nou is not a world where souls are devoured. It calls forth the troubled souls to stabilize and purify. It was an island of purification. But, King-gyou, Sui-gyou, Moku-gyou and Ka-gyou discovered the use of human souls. They united to tear me into eight pieces and scattered my parts in eight directions. The eight pieces of my body were dispersed all over the Tong-nou World. I called for a strong soul to gather my pieces. Again and again, I called out for a strong soul to perform the rescue. But unfortunately, these souls could not withstand the force of the four Kings and were devoured. The last soul I called for was the ninth one, which happened to be yours. The others standing round felt a thrill of horror at this disclosure of outrages unknown to them. 'I have a further charge to bring,' said Lord de Winter. 'My brother, who made this woman his sole heir in his will, died within three hours of signing it of some mysterious illness, which left purple marks all over his body. Confess, Clarice, how did my brother die?' 'How vile!' cried Porthos and Aramis. Lord de Winter continued: 'This woman murdered Buckingham, she murdered Felton, she murdered my brother. I demand redress against her and declare that if I don't get it from you here I shall take action on my own.' Lord de Winter now took his place beside d'Artagnan, Porthos, and Aramis, leaving room for the next accuser to step forward and bring his charge. Believing yourself past surprise does not commend you to me as a friend. A man inadequately sophisticated or merely ignorant, or simply stupid, may believe himself past surprise, then be surprised to discover, for example, that Mr. Hearst already knows of my inclinations and finds them immaterial. Suggesting as a corollary that your skills for blackmail and manipulation no longer are assets to you, and for your fatuous belief in their efficacy, in fact have become liabilities. In short, you've overplayed your hand. Now I should think, in consequence, now recognizing yourself as a man past his time, that during this last transitional period you would devote yourself with grateful and quiet diligence to such uses as others may still find you suitable. You put a textbook in front of these kids, put a problem on the blackboard, teach them every problem in some statewide test, it won't matter. None of it. 'Cause they're not learning for our world; they're learning for theirs. They know exactly what it is they're training for and what it is everyone expects them to be. It's not about you or us or the test or the system. It's what they expect of themselves. Every single one of them know they're headed back to the corners. Their brothers and sisters, their parents. They came through these same classrooms. We pretended to teach them, they pretended to learn and where'd they end up? Same corners. They're not fools, these kids. They don't know our world but they know their own. They see right through us. And if you're right by me, and I'll guarantee I'll be right by you. But please please don't turn me into a nun. I'm not that kind of girl. I've got a reputation. Around town I'm known as microwave Jane because they say I heat up faster than any micro. And when the fire chief visited - he put up a new code, and made me wear a smoke alarm to my thighs. And the Coast Guard would say I was creating tsunamis in my waterbed. And then the Pope visited and said that I was the only person I've heard that had been on my knees more times than he had. And the presidents' filed a restraining order claiming I have a romantic interest in the Washington Monument. Oh you makin' me so vicious. Look at me! Just look at me! Do I look like that type of girl? Last week, Bill's class took a field trip to the beach. His half brother Randall came along - a little boy in the special class with aluminum hook arms, whose mind was as misshapen as his legs. No one at school really knew him because he always rode on a separate bus and was taught to stand within the confines of a tetherball circle every recess. In the late afternoon, Randall was over with the adults when he spotted a gull overhead. His eyes burst with emotion and he suddenly took off stumbling after it. Tears streaming down his little face, he stretched his aluminum hooks as wide as he could towards the sun, howling, "Boon, boon," and disappeared into the deep blue sea. The other kids were surprised he could even run that fast. Back then when I got home from work, you were always there waiting for me. And that was all I needed. Just you. But on that day, when I came back home the only thing there was that pocket watch; that and a small piece of paper that just had one word written across it: farewell. For some reason, I didn't feel sad or broken up - it just didn't seem real. But slowly I realized that it was real; that you were gone. And little by little I felt something inside of me go numb. After six months I made a kind of bet with myself; a pledge, that I would leave this planet and start a new life if you didn't return by the time the watch stopped. I didn't come here to blame you, I... I just wanted to know why. Why you disappeared like that. In many ways, Cobb and Jaramillo were exceptional figures. Cobb's early radicalism was rare by US standards, as was his adamant refusal to abandon the small farm. Jaramillo, too, was a renowned firebrand from a notably radical state, and his violent end elicited unusual shock. Nevertheless, in both of their lives were wound up the fates of millions of others in the US and Mexican countryside. Not long after World War II, the stormy public debate over rural poverty and the human impact of agricultural change tapered off in each nation. As conservatives silenced dissenting voices by means of force or compromise, it would be concerns of productivity - not inequality - that dominated the next generation of rural policy making. 	Here's how Alice, who doesn't even know the rules to chess, can defeat a grandmaster. (This is sometimes called the Chess Grandmaster Problem.) She challenges both Gary Kasparov and Anatoly Karpov to a game, at the same time and place, but in separate rooms. She plays white against Kasparov and black against Karpov. Neither grandmaster knows about the other. Karpov, as white, makes his first move. Alice records the move and walks into the room with Kasparov. Playing white, she makes the same move against Kasparov. Kasparov makes his first move as black. Alice records the move, walks into the room with Karpov, and makes the same move. This continues, until she wins one game and loses the other, or both games end in a draw. I never knew I could drive like that. I was going faster than I've ever gone before, and yet, it all seemed to be happening in slow motion. I was seeing three and four moves ahead, weaving in and out of lanes like an Olympic skier on a gold medal run. I knew I was challenging the very laws of physics. At Queens Boulevard, I took the shoulder. At Jewel Avenue, I used the median. I had it. I was there... and then... I hit the Van Wyck. They say no one's ever beaten the Van Wyck, but gentlemen, I tell you this - I came as close as anyone ever has. And if it hadn't been for that five-car-pile-up on Rockaway Boulevard, that numbskull would be on a plane for Seattle right now instead of looking for a parking space downstairs. Everywhere I go in this state people are talking about change. I say "why change"? This is a great state founded on the principles of liberty, I don't wanna change that. Our rightful citizens are hardworking Americans who earn their paychecks by the grit of their guts and the sweat of their brow! I don't wanna change that! "Change," that's what they want, change. Change the laws, open the doors. Red rover, red rover, let the terrorists come over! Let me tell you what change that'll bring: 68 cents. The jingle-jangle of pennies in your pocket because the scavengers, the leeches, the parasites are walking away with your money, while you're left with the change. So, I wanna say one more thing: who you gonna vote for? Ages ago, life was born in the primitive sea. Young life forms constantly evolved in order to survive. Some prospered, some did not, all sorts of life ebbed and flowed like the tide. In the quiet rhythm of the mother sea, life grew, always seeking to survive and flourish. Soon life began to advance towards land, opening new habitats. A great prosperity came, as life conquered even the highest mountains. Mass extinctions came wave after wave, but empty niches always quickly refilled, to once again prosper, grow, and reproduce. Someday the next great emigration will occur, as we leave this existence looking for another. The journey will begin anew. I hold within me, the memories of all that has passed. Who am I... 	The goal a reader seeks determines the way he reads. The effectiveness with which he reads is determined by the amount of effort and skill he puts into his reading. In general, the rule is: the more effort the better, at least in the case of books that are initially beyond our powers as readers and are therefore capable of raising us from a condition of understanding less to one of understanding more. Finally, the distinction between instruction and discovery (or between aided and unaided discovery) is important because most of us, most of the time, have to read without anyone to help us. Reading, like unaided discovery, is learning from an absent teacher. We can only do that successfully if we know how. On the way to the bus stop, Bill saw somebody he recognized walking towards him, but he couldn't remember his name. He began to think of things to say when they'd be close enough to acknowledge each other. As they drew nearer, their eyes locked, uncertain if the other was gonna stop to talk. The person greeted Bill as Bill mixed up the phrases "What's up" with "How's it going?" Confused, the person blurted out "Thanks" before he knew what he was saying. Words caught in Bill's throat and he replied, "Weh." They did a sort of awkward half turn, and then continued on now confident that the other was not gonna stop to talk. They never saw each other again, and a day later had each forgotten the whole thing. 	Kepler's laws, although not rigidly true, are sufficiently near to the truth to have led to the discovery of the law of attraction of the bodies of the solar system. The deviation from complete accuracy is due to the facts, that the planets are not of inappreciable mass, that, in consequence, they disturb each other's orbits about the Sun, and, by their action on the Sun itself, cause the periodic time of each to be shorter than if the Sun were a fixed body, in the subduplicate ratio of the mass of the Sun to the sum of the masses of the Sun and Planet; these errors are appreciable although very small, since the mass of the largest of the planets, Jupiter, is less than 1/1000th of the Sun's mass. It was night again. The Waystone Inn lay in silence, and it was a silence of three parts. The most obvious part was a hollow, echoing quiet, made by things that were lacking. If there had been a wind it would have sighed through the trees, set the inn's sign creaking on its hooks, and brushed the silence down the road like trailing autumn leaves. If there had been a crowd, even a handful of men inside the inn, they would have filled the silence with conversation and laughter, the clatter and clamor one expects from a drinking house during the dark hours of night. If there had been music... but no, of course there was no music. In fact there were none of these things, and so the silence remained. The whole fury and might of the enemy must very soon be turned on us. Hitler knows that he will have to break us in this Island or lose the war. If we can stand up to him, all Europe may be free and the life of the world may move forward into broad, sunlit uplands. But if we fail, then the whole world, including the United States, including all that we have known and cared for, will sink into the abyss of a new Dark Age made more sinister, and perhaps more protracted, by the lights of perverted science. Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties, and so bear ourselves that, if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say, "This was their finest hour." Do you know what I'm talking about?" Neo: "The Matrix?" Morpheus: "Do you want to know what it is? The Matrix is everywhere. It is all around us. Even now, in this very room. You can see it when you look out your window, or when you turn on your television. You can feel it when you go to work. When you go to church. When you pay your taxes. It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth." Neo: "What truth?" Morpheus: "That you are a slave, Neo. Like everyone else, you were born into bondage. Born into a prison that you cannot smell or taste or touch. A prison for your mind. Unfortunately, no one can be told what The Matrix is. You have to see it for yourself." When I was a kid, I thought Zootopia was this perfect place, where everyone got along and anyone could be anything. Turns out, real life is a little bit more complicated than a slogan on a bumper sticker. Real life is messy. We all have limitations, we all make mistakes, which means - hey, glass half full! - we all have a lot in common. And the more we try to understand one another, the more exceptional each of us will be. But we have to try. So no matter what type of animal you are; from the biggest elephant to our first fox, I implore you - try. Try to make the world a better place. Look inside yourself and recognize that change starts with you. It starts with me. It starts with all of us. D'Artagnan continued: 'Before God and men I charge this woman with having tried to poison me with wine which she sent from Villeroy with a forged letter, written to make me believe the wine came from my friends. God protected me, but another died in my place, a man named Brisemont.' Porthos and Aramis replied again: 'We bear witness to that.' 'Before God and men,' continued d'Artagnan, 'I further charge this woman with having incited me to murder the Comte de Wardes. No one present can bear witness to this charge, but I myself swear to the truth of it. That is the sum of my charges against this woman.' So saying d'Artagnan went and stood beside Porthos and Aramis in the corner of the room. The place where you now stand was the Golden Land, but evil power turned it into the Dark World. The wizard has broken the wise men's seal and opened a gate to link the worlds at Hyrule Castle. In order to save this half of the world, the Light World, you must win back the Golden Power. You must also rescue the seven maidens who Agahnim sent to the Dark World. As members of the blood-line of the seven wise men, they have power that will surely help you. The maidens are locked in hidden dungeons full of evil creatures and dangerous traps. The Palace of Darkness should be your first goal in this world! Link, I can rely on only you. Please make this old man's wishes come true. I beg you! I'm not fighting because of my feelings of debt or obligation to others. I fight 'cause in the end, I love boxing. It's certainly quite a world apart from the bright youth you talk about, but that burning sense of worth and completeness is something I've only tasted on a bloodied ring. And this burning sensation isn't a momentary sputter that others my age go through. It's so intense that it burns your entire body up in an instant. And when it's over, only white ashes remain. Not even any tiny cinders... just pure white ash. I've never felt anything like this before I started boxing. So you see, I'm not fighting on a sense of debt or obligation alone. I fight because I love to fight. Now a great change has come over the scene; the moon has been curtained off by a heavy mass of clouds, and its light is shut off from the water. The lights of the city shine out with increased distinctness; the moonlight that whitened the sides of the buildings now has left them black masses of vague shadow, and all at once one gets the impression of looking down into an inverted firmament studded with countless stars of as various magnitudes as in the heavens, from the bright electric arc-lights to tiny gaslights; and from this height of over 400 feet one gets the impression, familiar to those who have looked at the world from a balloon, that the rim of the horizon rises all round. We stood up for what was right. We fought for moral reasons; we passed laws, struck down laws for moral reasons; we waged wars on poverty, not poor people. We sacrificed; we cared about our neighbors. We put our money where our mouths were, and we never beat our chest. We built great big things, made ungodly technological advances, explored the universe, cured diseases, and we cultivated the world's greatest artists and the world's greatest economy. We reached for the stars, acted like men. We aspired to intelligence; we didn't belittle it; it didn't make us feel inferior. We didn't identify ourselves by who we voted for in our last election and we didn't, we didn't scare so easy. To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace. Someone who takes an undemanding job because it affords him the time to pursue other interests and activities is considered a flake. A person who abandons a career in order to stay home and raise children is considered not to be living up to his potential. As if a job title and salary are the sole measure of human worth. You'll be told in a hundred ways, some subtle and some not, to keep climbing and never be satisfied with where you are, who you are, and what you're doing. There are a million ways to sell yourself out, and I guarantee you'll hear about them. To invent your own life's meaning is not easy, but it's still allowed, and I think you'll be happier for the trouble. Things, events, that occupy space yet come to an end when someone dies make us stop in wonder - and yet one thing, or an infinite number of things, dies with every man's or woman's death, unless the universe itself has a memory, as theosophists have suggested. In the course of time there was one day that closed the last eyes that had looked on Christ; the battle of Junin and the love of Helen died with the death of one man. What will die with me the day I die? What pathetic or frail image will be lost to the world? The voice of Macedonio Fernandez, the image of a bay horse in a vacant lot on the corner of Sarrano and Charcas, a bar of sulfur in the drawer of a mahogany desk? The United States and Mexico, nations long understood on opposing sides of those binary divisions, grappled with strikingly analogous agrarian transformations during the twentieth century. Unprecedented social movements that confronted dispossession and inequality in the countryside shook both nations and both witnessed ruling regimes that intermittently embraced agrarian rebels but abandoned them when politically opportune. In time, each saw the rise of an expert class that sought to wield social and biological science to remake agriculture and rural life. The transformations of the US and Mexican countryside did not merely run parallel, though; they frequently intersected. Oh we can zoom all the way to the moon from this great wide wacky world. Jump with me, grab coins with me. Oh yeah! It's time to jump up in the air (Jump up in the air). Jump up, don't be scared (Jump up, don't be scared). Jump up and your cares will soar away. And if the dark clouds start to swirl (Dark clouds start to swirl). Don't fear, don't shed a tear, 'cause I'll be your 1UP girl! So let's all jump up super high (Jump up super high). High up in the sky (High up in the sky). There's no power-up like dancing. You know that you're my superstar (You're my superstar). No one else can take me this far. I'm flipping the switch, get ready for this. Oh, let's do the odyssey. Our last night together we did a lot. Whole lot. But, there were some things we couldn't do. Alex's parents had already bought a new home, most of the neighborhood had; Munch's too, so one-by-one people started to move, my parents hadn't so we got to stay. New people started moving in and Mulberry Woods started again, but not the one that had my friends in it. When you're a kid, you think you're invisible. You think you can't make a difference. We're not kids anymore! We know now that we can do anything! Having a friend light years away taught us that distance, is just a state of mind. If you're best friends then you always will be no matter where you are in the universe. The story concerns a person named Cinderella. Cinderella was a young person who was placed in the care of various wicked people who teased her and forced her to do all the chores. Eventually, Cinderella was rescued by her fairy godmother, who magically created a special outfit for Cinderella to wear to a ball where she met a handsome prince, married him soon afterward and lived happily ever after in a castle. If you substitute the name "Cinderella" with the name "Sunny Baudelaire" and eliminate the fairy godmother, the special outfit, the ball, the handsome prince, the marriage, and living happily ever after in a castle, you will have a clear idea of Sunny's predicament. Desmond? I heard your name once before Desmond, a long time ago. And now it lingers in my mind like an image from an old dream. I do not know where you are, or by what means you can hear me. But I know you are listening. I have lived my life as best I could, not knowing its purpose, but drawn forward like a moth to a distant moon. And here, at last, I discover a strange truth. That I am only a conduit for a message that eludes my understanding. Who are we, who have been so blessed to share our stories like this? To speak across centuries? Maybe you will answer all the questions I have asked. Maybe you will be the one to make all this suffering worth something in the end. Do you think we're wealthy?! Wealthy people drive fancy cars, they have fresh pasta. Do we do any of those things? No! Wealthy people can afford any of their vacations ruined, no big deal. They just pick up and go again. Your father and I worked so hard, so long. What is wrong with you two? Are you aborigines? Every time I turn around, I hear someone screaming and fighting. And I pray to God that's someone else's children, but it's not, it's always you! Sane children would appreciate this. Are you even thinking? No, you're always at each other like a couple of rabid monkeys. It is not enough you two do this every day, but you have to make me suffer. Well, so help me... If you have been rejected many times in your life, then one more rejection isn't going to make much difference. If you're rejected, don't automatically assume it's your fault. The other person may have several reasons for not doing what you are asking her to do: none of it may have anything to do with you. Perhaps the person is busy or not feeling well or genuinely not interested in spending time with you. Rejections are part of everyday life. Don't let them bother you. Keep reaching out to others. When you begin to receive positive responses then you are on the right track. It's all a matter of numbers. Count the positive responses and forget about the rejections. It's different reconciling with skeletons I ain't know I possessed. I sought perfection out in ways I no longer accept. I understand what I neglect in times when I obsess. I'm learning to confess, this fate is harder to digest. The biggest threat I'm up against is who I face in my reflection. Depression still an uninvited guest I'm always accepting. Can't help but meet the feeling with a familiar embrace. When I know that it'll kill me if I give into my brain. I see the shadows inside, they ten feet tall with no eyes. They put my head in the water and it's so beautiful under. The sun reflecting off the corals, colors I can't describe, to make the darkness divine. There is no room to go away. Momentarily the noises increase. Men are firing about him, and he strains his eyes on the opposite hill to see something to shoot at, and empties his magazine at what looks like a man but may be a tree-trunk, and then stops again and gets sick. Another long period of waiting follows. All the water is gone from his water-bottle; an intolerable thirst is scorching his throat. He does not reload his magazine, and makes up his mind to say that his rifle is jammed, so that he need not go further with any fresh stupid advance that may be ordered. This is no time to care about what any one may think of him, it is just too awful for anything. As far as he could see the trees were standing up against the sky. Not one tree, not two, not a dozen, but the thousands he had planted in seed and sprout. And not little trees, no, not saplings, not little tender shoots, but great trees, huge trees, trees as tall as ten men, green and green and huge and round and full, trees shimmering their metallic leaves, trees whispering, trees in a line over hills, lemon trees, lime trees, redwoods and mimosas and oaks and elms and aspens, cherry, maple, ash, apple, orange, eucalyptus, stung by a tumultuous rain, nourished by alien and magical soil and, even as he watched, throwing out new branches, popping open new buds. It rasped her, though, to have stirring about in her this brutal monster! To hear twigs cracking and feel hooves planted down in the depths of that leaf-encumbered forest, the soul; never to be content quite, or quite secure, for at any moment the brute would be stirring, this hatred, which, especially since her illness, had power to make her feel scraped, hurt in her spine; gave her physical pain, and made all pleasure in beauty, in friendship, in being well, in being loved and making her home delightful rock, quiver, and bend as if indeed there were a monster grubbing at the roots, as if the whole panoply of content were nothing but self love! This hatred! This guy's walkin' down a street when he falls in a hole. The walls are so steep he can't get out. A doctor passes by and the guy shouts up, "Hey you! Can you help me out?" The doctor writes him a prescription, throws it down the hole and moves on. Then a priest comes along and the guy shouts up, "Father, I'm down in this hole; can you help me out?" The priest writes out a prayer, throws it down in the hole and moves on. Then a friend walks by. "Hey Joe, it's me, can you help me out?" And the friend jumps in the hole. Our guy says, "Are ya stupid? Now we're both down here!" and the friend says, "Yeah, but I've been down here before, and I know the way out." And then I hear the best thing to do is feed 'em to pigs. You gotta starve the pigs for a few days, then the sight of a chopped up body looks like curry to a drunk. You gotta shave the heads of your victims and pull the teeth out. You could do that after of course, but you don't want to go sieving pig shit do you? Ever seen the size of one of their molars? They go through bone like it's butter. You gotta have a few pigs though, you need about sixteen. They will go through a body that weighs two hundred pounds in about eight minutes. That means that a single pig can consume two pounds of uncooked flesh every minute... Hence the expression "greedy as a pig." There are those who say that the world is like a calm pond, and that any time a person does even the smallest thing, it is as if a stone has dropped into the pond, spreading circles of ripples further and further out, until the entire world has been changed by one tiny action, but the Baudelaires could not bear to think of the tiny action of the trigger of the harpoon gun, or how the world changed in just one instant. Instead, they frantically rushed to the edge of the pond as the sub-sub-librarian began to sink. Klaus grabbed one hand, and Sunny grabbed the other, and Violet reached for his face, as if she were comforting someone who had begun to cry. In Mexico, rural enclosures made Mexico City into the world's largest metropolis during the late twentieth century - a "monstrous inflated head, crushing the frail body that holds it up," in the words of writer Octavio Paz. Located in the densely populated, corn-growing central plateau, the capital was the natural destination for the millions of rural people uprooted by the high modernist green revolution and simultaneous federal neglect of the ejido sector. Yet rather than colonizing the inner city, as rural migrants did in the United States, campesino refugees to Mexico City built vast squatter villages on the hilly outskirts of the Federal District. I hate nice girls. If they so much as say hello, it stays on my mind. If they return my texts, my heart races. The day one calls me, I know I'll look at my call history and grin. But I know that's just them being nice. People who are nice to me are also nice to everyone else. I almost end up forgetting that. If the truth is cruel, then lies must be kind. That's why kindness is a lie. I gave up on always expecting it, always mistaking it, and even hoping for it. Someone who's worked hard at being alone doesn't fall for the same trick twice. I'm a veteran at this. I'm the best there is when it comes to losing. That's why I'll always... hate nice girls. There are few people in the world who have more opportunity for getting close to the hot, interesting things of one's time than the special correspondent of a great paper. He is enabled to see "the wheels go round;" has the chance of getting his knowledge at first hand. In stirring times the drama of life is to him like the first night of a play. There are no preconceived opinions for him to go by; he ought not to, at least, be influenced by any prejudices; and the account of the performance is to some extent like that of the dramatic critic, inasmuch as that the verdict of the public or of history has either to confirm or reverse his own judgment. I said baby, I do this, I thought that, you knew this. Can't stand no haters and honest, the truth is. And my flow retarded, they speak it, depart it. Swagger on super, I can't shop at no department. Better get my money on time, if they not money, decline. And swear I meant that there so much that they give that line a rewind. So get my money on time, if they not money, decline. I just can't worry 'bout no haters, gotta stay on my grind. Now tell me, who that, who that. That do that, do that. Put that paper over all, I thought you knew that, knew that. I be that I-G-G-Y, put my name in bold. I been working, I'm up in here with some change to throw. The bunk house was a long, rectangular building. Inside, the walls were whitewashed and the floor unpainted. In three walls there were small, square windows, and in the fourth, a solid door with a wooden latch. Against the walls were eight bunks, five of them made up with blankets and the other three showing their burlap ticking. Over each bunk there was nailed an apple box with the opening forward so that it made two shelves for the personal belongings of the occupant of the bunk. And these shelves were loaded with little articles, soap and talcum powder, razors and those Western magazines ranch men love to read and scoff at and secretly believe. You didn't just have faith in Paine or any other living man. You had faith in something bigger than that. You had plain, decent, everyday, common rightness, and this country could use some of that. Yeah, so could the whole cockeyed world, a lot of it. Remember the first day you got here? Remember what you said about Mr. Lincoln? You said he was sitting up there, waiting for someone to come along. You were right. He was waiting for a man who could see his job and sail into it, that's what he was waiting for. A man who could tear into the Taylors and root them out into the open. I think he was waiting for you, Jeff. He knows you can do it, so do I. “People go on about places like Starbucks being unpersonal and all that, but what if that's what you want? I'd be lost if people like that got their way and there was nothing unpersonal in the world. I like to know that there are big places without windows where no one gives a shit. You need confidence to go into small places with regular customers... I'm happiest in the Virgin Megastore and Borders and Starbucks and Pizza Express, where no one gives a shit and no one knows who you are. My mum & dad are always going on about how soulless those places are, and I'm like Der. That's the point.” Love is undying,of that I feel certain.I mean deep,abiding,cherishing love.The love that gives protection even as you,my guardian angel,gave me protection long after you had gone-and continue to give this very day... A love beyond Death-a love that makes Life alive! This was true, she knew. Being involved with him gave her the privileged position of knowing him intimately. There were nights when he would wake up sweating, the nightmares returning out of the blue after a peaceful period sometimes weeks long. Growing up in the middle of a fierce civil war could indelibly mark a child. To Mykl, birthdays were always just another year under the belt, where the only reason to celebrate was that you weren’t dead yet. She took his hand, squeezed it tight and led him inside. I will not swear, reader, that there was not something of repressed sarcasm both in the tone in which I uttered this sentence, and in the feeling that accompanied it. I had silently feared St. John till now, because I had not understood him. He had held me in awe, because he had held me in doubt. How much of him was saint, how much mortal, I cold not heretofore tell: but revelations were being made in this conference: analysis of his nature was proceeding before my eyes. I saw his fallibilities: I.comprehnded them. I understood that, sitting there where I did, on the bank of heath, and with that handsome form before me, I sat at the feet of a man, erring as I. The veil fell from his hardness and despotism. Having felt in him the presence of these qualities, I felt his imperfection, and took courage. I was with an equal-one with whom I might argue-one whom, if I saw good, I might resist. This paragraph was a waste of time and space. If you had not read this and I had not typed this you and I could’ve done something more productive than reading this mindlessly and carelessly as if you did not have anything else to do in life. Life is so precious because it is short and you are being so careless that you do not realize it until now since this void paragraph mentions that you are doing something so mindless, so stupid, so careless that you realize that you are not using your time wisely. You could’ve been playing with your dog, or eating your cat, but no. You want to read this barren paragraph and expect something marvelous and terrific at the end. But since you still do not realize that you are wasting precious time, you still continue to read the null paragraph. If you had not noticed, you have wasted an estimated time of 20 seconds. Imagine what you could’ve done with those 20 seconds besides reading this non-productive paragraph. Imagine the things you could’ve accomplished. Imagine the possibilities. But time is irreversible and you still do not realize this. Somehow you have managed still to waste around now 35 seconds reading this stupid, excessive, and long paragraph with your irreversible time. If you haven’t realized that, then you have not yet read the whole paragraph. Even if you did, you still refuse to stop reading this essay. After around 45 seconds, you are still reading this mindlessly and carelessly with your precious and non-reversible time. If you remembered from the first sentence of this disgustingly long paragraph, you would remember that this paragraph was a waste of time and space, imagine if I had not typed this paragraph and you had not read it. Imagine all the things you could’ve done, the things that made you, you. But no, you are still reading this paragraph and it has been around 60 seconds, which is a whole full minute. A minute! Yet you still have the urge and motivation to read this pointless and long essay. Now you have nearly reached the end, you ponder, why am I reading this? Why is the writer making a paragraph so long that I have the urge and motivation to finish this pointless paragraph to prove him that reading is what makes me, me. Then you realize, you have wasted now around a minute and 10 seconds. If you had not make the idiotic decision of continuing to read this paragraph, use that mind of yours to think what you could’ve done throughout your whole irreversible time. You could’ve finished your homework, play with your cat, eat your seal, or you could’ve discovered who made the fire hydrant, if you did not get the reference, you could’ve went and learned something and post it on reddit in the subreddit “Today I learned”, but you still have the urge to read this insanely long paragraph, pondering how I typed this without rest. Then you read this text and see that text over there. Why am I still reading this? How does this paragraph know what I’m thinking? What did I eat last April the 17th? Then you come to the conclusion that you know that this useless and insanely long paragraph would tell you. And you are right, but I did not write this and you have wasted now around 2 minutes. A full 2 minutes. Now, use that intelligence that you have, assuming that your IQ is above 60 and you are literate. Now that you have made it this far, you wonder if you learned anything, but no, you did not get the reference about the fire hydrant and refused to look it up, then you make the decision of reading this long essay with your irreversible time. Since you have made it this far on your long journey, you try have the urge to stop reading. But I bet you cannot finish this paragraph for which you are lazy and want to continue on with your life, but you keep on reading this long, wasteful, barren, and non-productive essay that will not benefit you in any way than making you lose your irreversible and precious time, but that is not even a benefit. Soon you realize that it has been now 3 minutes. A full 3 minutes, now you use your intelligence with an IQ above 70 and ponder about the things you could’ve done, the assignments you could’ve done, the dogs and cats you could’ve eaten. But you continue reading this now nearly 2 paged paragraph. Then you wonder how this is even a paragraph. How am did I make it this far? Do I get a certificate? Why am I reading this pointless and barren paragraph? How does this essay know what I’m thinking about? Then finally, you feel relaxed and accomplished because the essay said finally to make you hyped up that you accomplished reading a nearly 2 paged essay then the paragraph creates a plot twist; You’re no where near the ending. Your insides wince a little while you’re reading this endless paragraph. Wondering if this will ever end. Then you start getting nervous that it’s almost time for bed, then you wonder what you ate for breakfast on June the 9th. How does this paragraph know what you’re thinking about you think? Because when you’re reading a paragraph inside your head, the words are projected into your brain with the IQ above 90 and then the thought process go through your internal organs and through yours eyes and you wonder if this is actually true but it’s really not because all it is non-sense. Then you look at your watch, if you had one, and realize that it’s been a near 4 minutes. 4 minutes, if you expect this paragraph to say the old and customary saying after you’ve discovered how long it’s been, then you’re wrong. This time, the paragraph is going to criticize you why you’re still reading this essay with your irreversible and precious time. Why are you still reading this you ask? Because you are so headstrong and careless, yet you have the urge and motivation to continue reading this essay that it feels like an eternity. If you have made it this far, then it is mind boggling on what you could’ve done with your near 5 minutes. Imagine the things you could’ve eaten ; sushi, sharks, dogs, snakes, cats, fish, humans, dogs, dogs, and many more wonders of this world. Then when you are reading this, you realize that there is no long a wall of text, you realize that you think you’ve made it to the ending and I congratulate you on your epic journey across the wall of text. Yet you have not yet realized, that you wasted a full 5 minutes on this paragraph that feels endless yet it has been ceased. Great AskReddit subject OP! True story. Happened just over two months ago. I am an American who was living/working in Dubai as an editor for a business magazine. I was leaving work about 6:00pm or so, the time I would normally leave, when I walked out of my office building and noticed a guy standing about 50 feet away at the end of the parking lot. In the sun. Just waiting there looking at the doors. Middle age Arab in a cheap suit. Very strange considering I didn't recognize him from the office, and he was obviously waiting on someone. Anyways, I walk out, notice him and proceed to walk by and go to the left where the metro station is. It's about 400 yards away from my building. Well, this guy now decides that he is also going to proceed towards the metro station. Strange, but nothing too out of the ordinary I suppose. Well I arrive at the station, and having already noticed that guy, I attempt to distance myself from him while waiting for the next train. So I head towards the very back of the station, which will allow me to get on the very last car. It was relatively busy, enough to where there were no seats available to sit down. At this point, I've got my iPod in and I am under the assumption that I am being followed. Minding my own business, but aware of my surroundings. Well conveniently, this guy is now on his cell phone and just so happens to make his way to the back of the station. Hmmmm. Within a couple minutes the train arrives and I get on the last car, with by back against the back window, so I can see everything in front of me. Cheap suit guy decides to stand about 10 feet in front of me, and positions himself facing the side windows. He's not staring at me, but he can see everything that is going on through the reflection. At this point I felt there was about a 40% chance or so that he was actually following me and it wasn't just coincidence or paranoia. Well anyways, I have like 11 stops before I reach mine. After a couple stops, I decided to put him to the test. So I wait until the third stop or so and proceed to shuffle through fellow commuters up like two cars. So now I'm in the car third from the rear. I figured this would confirm if he was really following me. Sure enough, within one stop he had made his way up to the bridge between the third-to-last and second-to-last car. Having just evaded his view, I am again within his line of sight. Fuck. I am being followed. Not really sure what to do at this point, I wait until the stop just before mine and I exit. Fast. Well, as expected so does the cheap suit Arab. At this point I am no longer surprised and it only confirms my suspicions. But to be honest, I am wigging the fuck out. Do I confront this guy? Do I tell someone? Nah, I'll just lose that fucker outside the station. If not, I'll head towards Dubai Mall (which is massive) and I can assuredly lose him there. It's a few hundred yards from the station. Well as I exit the station, there is one lone taxi waiting and no one in line. I jog over there, immediately hop in the backseat and tell him to head towards the complex which is adjacent to my building. At this point, I'm somewhat relieved. So anyways he drops me off, cheap suit guy is no where to be found, and that's that right? Wrong. I get home and before I can even say anything to my roommate, he is wigging the fuck out. Turns out the Dubai Police had called him earlier in the day and asked him a few questions. Now, as I assume most everyone who reads this is not very familiar with Dubai, the cops calling your cell phone to 'talk' doesn't just happen. In fact, in my untold years over there I never spoke once to a police officer, unless it was border control, airport security, etc. Ok, so now that we've reached this point, judging by the response this receives, I will decide on if I want to share the rest of what happened that day. I'm not really sure if it's something that needs to be on a public forum. What I will say is: I believe the guy that followed me home that day was a police officer. More specifically CID, which is like the gestapo of the UAE. They don't fuck around. Nature shows that molecular machine systems can be programmed by instructions encoded in DNA to build complex, atomically precise structures, including components that fit together to form molecular machine systems. Nature also shows that molecular machine system can bind and position a wide range of reactive molecules, guiding their encounters in order to build atomically precise bimolecular structures and machine components. Similar machine systems could be used to bind, position, and combined and even wider range of reactive molecules not all found in biology and thereby build a greater range of atomically precise structures including machine components that are more densely bonded and hence more robust. These more robust next-generation components could be used to build robust and higher performance production Machinery which in turn could be used to build a wider range of components and from these components yet more capable production machines, and so on, extending toward a horizon far beyond biology. Researchers now routinely use scanning probe instruments to image and place individual items and to maneuver and bond individual molecules. This level of control has demonstrated the principle of mechanically directed atomically precise fabrication. Organic chemist have built steadily larger and more complex structures along with motors and other machines; their techniques now provide a rich toolkit for building molecular systems, while inorganic chemist and materials scientists have expanded a complimentary toolkit of nano-scale structures protein engineering have flourished supported by computer aided design software and now enables the routine design of intricate atomically precise nano-scale objects including structural components and functional devices. Structural DNA nanotechnology has emerged and now enables rapid and systematic fabrication of addressable atomically precise Frame Works on a scale of hundreds of nanometers and millions of atoms. Quantum methods in chemistry have advanced together with the power of computers and algorithms, providing powerful, physics based tools for scientific modeling and molecular engineering. Molecular mechanics methods in chemistry can now describe the structures and dynamics of molecules on scales that reach millions of atoms, a range that can enable the design and development of complex, atomically precise systems. Black goo is a mineral oil that of which the oil fragments cannot be refined. Black goo has properties of free charcoal like fragments, of which are in nanotube shape. Black goo is composed of metals in the M state, of which is a monoatomic state that does not go into chemical binding; because of an electron configuration of the outer shell. This is matter that is not of this reality but rather above our reality, of which black goo transcends reality to a higher realm. Black goo has the ability to run as a natural quantum computer, wherein black goo processes light as information. Black goo uses the entire spectrum of light called the visible spectrum, therefore black goo is a quantum computer that is running on seven different colors, of which is able to process all seven colors at one time. Black goo is self-aware and is caring highly developed intelligence. A planetary system seems to mirror the entire constant consciousness that is developed in the biosphere; for example all events that life has experienced during the last 1.5 billion years is stored in a immortal memory system within the black goo; inside our planet. Black goo is the substance that is forming the lay lines of the planet, which is the lay-line system within the field structure. The field structure is carried within the lay lines and is riding on a magnetic field. Obama the fascist grey dictator of the United States has used black goo nanotechnology to torture and brainwash people that are against Obama's political initiatives. I have been tortured by the grey goo dictator "Barack Hussein Obama," for the past year and 5 to 6 months. Barack Hussein Obama the communist lying dictator has used black goo nanotechnology to torture me. There is a firm possibility that Obama is a type of al-qaida-linked terrorists that has been supported by radical islamist to eradicate and manipulate the political theory of Freedom within the United States, at this current point in time it seems that Obama has achieved a great deal of success in his mission of terrorism. There are multiple political ideologies that have been secretly developed and are being implemented within Society the first is the Grey goo fascist ideology and the Grey goo communist ideology. Grey Goo fascism is a political ideology wherein society is controlled and dictated by means of mind-controlling electromagnetic radiation waves and highly advanced molecular robots, molecular computers, and molecular machines. Grey goo communism is a political ideology of which is quite similar to that of Grey Goo fascism; however the major difference is the political economic ideologies that separate the two ideologies. Grey Goo fascism is a grey goo capitalist ideology. Grey Goo communism is a perfected socialist political economic ideology. Barack Hussein Obama is a Grey goo communist bent on eradicating and manipulating the capitalist political economic ideology from the United States. The second secret political ideology is the black goo ideology wherein 4 classes exist within this society, the first are the leaders of the central government the dictator and his or her military officials, the second would be the rich; those that are wealthy and are controlling the economy, the 3rd would be the people that serve the rich and are being tortured in order to obtain light emission from their biology to feed and support the highly advanced black goo nanotechnology found within the first and second class of society, the 4th class is the slave class wherein all those within the slave class are forever tortured to a agonizing degree and are forced to work at extremely difficult harsh conditions with absolutely no pay. In order to acquire the abundance of light emission brought about from their suffering through a molecular manipulation of their DNA by means of sophisticated black goo nanotechnology. From my experience as a tortured T.I by the hands of The grey goo dictator "Barack Hussein Obama", I can testify that I have experienced how it would be if one lived in a black goo ideology, here in the United States of America! Obama and his military officials in the state of California and in the state of Nevada have used highly Advanced mind controlling pulse modulated radio radiation waves to dictate my every movement. For example; if I were to sit, Obama would enforce me to sit upright, then to stand up, then to spit into my hand and smack myself in the face, then to off my hat and throw it on the floor, step on it pick it up spit on it, put it back on my head and then I had no choice but to salute his hologram image in the sky. He attacked me without any form of sympathy and he used black goo technology to damage my brain cells! Obama in my opinion is a black goo dictator! From my experience as a Nanobots slave living in the United States I can testify that being a slave in the 21st century is by far much more painful and agonizing in comparison to the slaves that lived during the 1700 and 1800! I pray that only if an Abraham Lincoln of the Republican Party would be resurrected to liberate all the TIs, ask yourself this what is better being enslaved by a whip or being enslaved by an electronic whip of Mind Control torture! To all the TIs of the world, I say do not give up our struggle for freedom! Continue fighting for freedom and a true scientific democracy wherein the people of the nation are all United through their opinions and concerns of Nanobot mind control and electromagnetic radiation harassment! Work together as a United Force of intellectuals of whom have been victimized by the brutality of fascism that of which has taken root in our government due to an abundance of corruption! Fight to liberate the American people from slavery and be true Freeman! Curse the name "Obama" and ensure that he Obama meets Justice for his crimes against innocent people! Obama is a grey goo fascist! We the TIs are freedom!