O.g Quotes

You do not question an author who appears on the title page as "T.V.N. Persaud, M.D., Ph.D., D.Sc., F.R.C.Path. (Lond.), F.F.Path. (R.C.P.I.), F.A.C.O.G.

the fellow members of even the smallese nation will never know most of their fellow members, meet them, or even hear of them, yet in the minds of each lives the image of the communion...Communities are to be distinguished, not by their falsity or genuineness, but in the style in which they are imagined.

Richard at once declared that we must be content with that and drop the subject. I agreed with Richard. All's well that ends well. What say you, O.G?

„- Mi-ai spus odată că, indiferent ce se va întâmpla, chiar dacă vom rătăci drumul, mă vei găsi. Eu te-am găsit. Sper să mă găsești și tu pe mine.

We believe in the wrong things. That's what frustrates me the most. Not the lack of belief, but the belief in the wrong things. You want meaning? Well, the meanings are out there. We're just so damn good at reading them wrong. I don't think meaning is something that can be explained. You have to understand it on your own. It's like when you're starting to read. First, you learn the letters. Then, once you know what sounds the letters make, you use them to sound out words. You know that c-a-t leads to cat and d-o-g leads to dog. But then you have to make that extra leap, to understand that the word, the sound, the "cat" is connected to an actual cat , and that "dog" is connected to an actual dog. It's that leap, that understanding, that leads to meaning. And a lot of the time in life, we're still just sounding things out. We know the sentences and how to say them. We know the ideas and how to present them. We know the prayers and which words to say in what order. But that's only spelling" It's much harder to lie to someone's face. But. It is also much harder to tell the truth to someone's face. The indefatigable pursuit of an unattainable perfection, even though it consist in nothing more than in the pounding of an old piano, is what alone gives a meaning to our life on this unavailing star. (Logan Pearsall Smith) Being alone has nothing to do with how many people are around. (J.R. Moehringer) You could be standing a few feet away...I could have sat next to you on the subway, or brushed beside you as we went through the turnstiles. But whether or not you are here, you are here- because these words are for you, and they wouldn't exist is you weren't here in some way. At last I had it--the Christmas present I'd wanted all along, but hadn't realized. His words. The dream was obviously a sign: he was too enticing to resist. Wow. You must have a lot of faith in me. Which I appreciate. Even if I'm not sure I share it. I could do this on my own, and not freak out that I had no idea what waited for me on the other side of this night. Hope and belief. I'd always wanted hope, but never believed that I could have such an adventure on my own. That I could own it. And love it. But it happened. Because I'm So uncool and so afraid. If there was a clue, that meant the mystery was still intact I fear you may have outmatched me, because not I find these words have nowhere to go. It's hard to answer a question you haven't been asked. It's hard to show that you tried unless you end up succeeding. This was not a haystack. We were people, and people had ways of finding eachother. It was one of those moments when you feel the future so much that is humbles the present. Don't worry. It's your embarrassment at not having the thought that counts. You think fairy tales are only for girls? Here's ahint- ask yourself who wrote them. I assure you, it wasn't just the women. It's the great male fantasy- all it takes is one dance to know that she's the one. All it takes is the sound of her song from the tower, or a look at her sleeping face. And right away you know--this is the girl in your head, sleeping or dancing or singing in front of you. Yes, girls want their princes, but boys want their princesses just as much. And they don't want a very long courtship. They want to know immediately. Be careful what you;re doing, because no one is ever who you want them to be. And the less you really know them, the more likely you are to confuse them with the girl or boy in your head You should never wish for wishful thinking

He moved forward cautiously. He circled it, sniffed it, whapped it with a paw. Then he found the product tag and stared at it for a minute. Turning toward her, he lifted a lip in something that might have been a sneer. "I know it says it's a dog bed, but I'm sure a Wolf can use it," Meg said. Nothing but grumbly sounds from the Wolf. "Fine. If you want to lie on a cold, hard floor instead of something comfy and warm just because Wolf is spelled d-o-g, you go right ahead.

I don’t think meaning is something that can be explained. You have to understand hopeful and selectively blind as the next guy, but because I don’t think meaning is something that can be explained. You have to understand it on your own. It’s like when you’re starting to read. First, you learn the letters. Then, once you know what sounds the letters make, you use them to sound out words. You know that c-a-t leads to cat and d-o-g leads to dog. But then you have to make that extra leap, to understand that the word, the sound, the “cat” is connected to an actual cat, and that “dog” is connected to an actual dog. It’s that leap, that understanding, that leads to meaning. And a lot of the time in life, we’re still just sounding things out. We know the sentences and how to say them. We know the ideas and how to present them. We know the prayers and which words to say in what order. But that’s only spelling.

Using your fire to ignite someone else's, Will not dim your light... It will illuminate the room & you will shine, T O G E T H E R.

Though I found this information surprising, this being the Father of Medicine we are talking about, I did not question it. You do not question an author who appears on the title page as “T.V.N. Persaud, M.D., Ph.D., D.Sc., F.R.C. Path. (Lond.), F.F. Path. (R.C.P.I.), F.A.C.O.G.” Who knows, perhaps history erred in bestowing upon Hippocrates the title Father of Medicine.

Nonsense! Nonsense!” snorted Tasbrough. “That couldn’t happen here in America, not possibly! We’re a country of freemen.” “The answer to that,” suggested Doremus Jessup, “if Mr. Falck will forgive me, is ‘the hell it can’t!’ Why, there’s no country in the world that can get more hysterical—yes, or more obsequious!—than America. Look how Huey Long became absolute monarch over Louisiana, and how the Right Honorable Mr. Senator Berzelius Windrip owns his State. Listen to Bishop Prang and Father Coughlin on the radio—divine oracles, to millions. Remember how casually most Americans have accepted Tammany grafting and Chicago gangs and the crookedness of so many of President Harding’s appointees? Could Hitler’s bunch, or Windrip’s, be worse? Remember the Kuklux Klan? Remember our war hysteria, when we called sauerkraut ‘Liberty cabbage’ and somebody actually proposed calling German measles ‘Liberty measles’? And wartime censorship of honest papers? Bad as Russia! Remember our kissing the—well, the feet of Billy Sunday, the million-dollar evangelist, and of Aimée McPherson, who swam from the Pacific Ocean clear into the Arizona desert and got away with it? Remember Voliva and Mother Eddy?. . .Remember our Red scares and our Catholic scares, when all well-informed people knew that the O.G.P.U. were hiding out in Oskaloosa, and the Republicans campaigning against Al Smith told the Carolina mountaineers that if Al won the Pope would illegitimatize their children? Remember Tom Heflin and Tom Dixon? Remember when the hick legislators in certain states, in obedience to William Jennings Bryan, who learned his biology from his pious old grandma, set up shop as scientific experts and made the whole world laugh itself sick by forbidding the teaching of evolution?. . .Remember the Kentucky night-riders? Remember how trainloads of people have gone to enjoy lynchings? Not happen here? Prohibition—shooting down people just because they might be transporting liquor—no, that couldn’t happen in America! Why, where in all history has there ever been a people so ripe for a dictatorship as ours! We’re ready to start on a Children’s Crusade—only of adults—right now, and the Right Reverend Abbots Windrip and Prang are all ready to lead it!” “Well, what if they are?

„- Trebuie să știi ceva, continuă ea și am citit un soi de milă în privirea pe care mi-a aruncat-o. Blestemele ca cel pe care îl porți în tine vin câte…trei.

Life was brutal for her. She hated the heat and the dust—the lack of friendship and lack of respect from other women who knew she was a Christian. She hated the monster my father had become.

„Și mai erau ei, bărbați care au apărut treptat în viața mea, ființe care făceau parte din acea lume ascunsă oamenilor normali. Eu – care până mai ieri râsesem în gura mare la auzul poveștilor despre vampiri, vârcolaci și adolescenți supranaturali – găzduiam azi în micul meu apartament o „creatură a nopții”, pe Arrio cel frumos și întunecat, al cărui bun prieten era un berseker nemuritor. Ce ziceți de asta?

P h y j s l y d d q f d z x g a s g z z q q e h x g k f n d r x u j u g I o c y t d x v k s b x h h u y p o h d v y r y m h u h p u y d k j o x p h e t o z l s l e t n p m v f f o v p d p a j x h y y n o j y g g a y m e q y n f u q l n m v l y f g s u z m q I z t l b q q y u g s q e u b v n r c r e d g r u z b l r m x y u h q h p z d r r g c r o h e p q x u f I v v r p l p h o n t h v d d q f h q s n t z h h h n f e p m q k y u u e x k t o g z g k y u u m f v I j d q d p z j q s y k r p l x h x q r y m v k l o h h h o t o z v d k s p p s u v j h d.

We believe in the wrong things. That's what frustrates me the most . Not the lack of belief, but the belief in the wrong things. You want meaning? Well, the meanings are out there. We're just so damn good at reading them wrong. It's not going to be explained to you in a prayer. And I'm not going to be able to explain it to you. Not because I'm as ignorant and hopeful and selectively blind as the next guy, but because I don't think meaning is something that can be explained. You have to understand it on your own. It's like when you're starting to read. First, you learn the letters. Then, once you know what sounds the letters make you use them to sound out words. You know that c-a-t leads to cat and d-o-g leads to dog. But then you have to make that extra leap, to understand that the word, the sound, the "cat" is connected to an actual cat, and that "dog" is connected to an actual dog. It's that leap, that understanding, that leads to meaning. And a lot of the time in life, we're still just sounding things out. We know the sentences and how to say them. We know the ideas and how to present them. We know the prayers and which words to say in what order. but that's only spelling. I don't mean this to sound hopeless. Because in the same way that a kid can realise what "c-a-t" means, I think we can find the truths that live behind our words. I wish that I could remember the moment when I was a kid and I discovered that the letters linked into words, and that the words linked to real things. What a revelation that must have been. We don't have the words for it, since we hadn't yet learnt the words. It must have been astonishing, to be given the key to the kingdom and see it turn in our hands so easily.

„De Ian mă leagă o prietenie stranie, având în vedere că ne-am cunoscut în condiții excepționale și că el face parte dintr-o altă lume, una pe care muritorii de rând nu au șansa să o cunoască. Aventurile noastre au implicat, în cele nouă luni de când ne cunoaștem, blesteme străvechi, răpiri, lupte și situații care păreau fără ieșire. Dar am supraviețuit și mi-am câștigat dreptul de a face parte din această lume întunecată și plină de secrete.

Remember our Red scares and our Catholic scares, when all well-informed people knew that the O.G.P.U. were hiding out in Oskaloosa, and the Republicans campaigning against Al Smith told the Carolina mountaineers that if Al won the Pope would illegitimatize their children? Remember Tom Heflin and Tom Dixon? Remember when the hick legislators in certain states, in obedience to William Jennings Bryan, who learned his biology from his pious old grandma, set up shop as scientific experts and made the whole world laugh itself sick by forbidding the teaching of evolution?. . .Remember the Kentucky night-riders? Remember how trainloads of people have gone to enjoy lynchings? Not happen here? Prohibition—shooting down people just because they might be transporting liquor—no, that couldn’t happen in America! Why, where in all history has there ever been a people so ripe for a dictatorship as ours!

... but I love language. It is a living, breathing, evolving thing, and language has power. Whether in a song lyric, a poem, a speech, or a simple conversation, we’ve all experienced words that resonate with us. They may make us recall a powerful moment, inspire us, move us, or perhaps, comfort us…. But at the same time, we don’t think in words. We think in pictures. If I say the word ‘dog’ to you, you aren’t picturing the letters, d-o-g, you’re picturing a dog from your memory...

We believe in the wrong things. That's what frustrates me the most. Not the lack of belief, but the belief in the wrong things. You want meaning? Well, the meanings are out there. We're just so damn good at reading them wrong. I don't think meaning is something that can be explained. You have to understand it on your own. It's like when you're starting to read. First, you learn the letters. Then, once you know what sounds the letters make, you use them to sound out words. You know that c-a-t leads to cat and d-o-g leads to dog. But then you have to make that extra leap, to understand that the word, the sound, the "cat" is connected to an actual cat , and that "dog" is connected to an actual dog. It's that leap, that understanding, that leads to meaning. And a lot of the time in life, we're still just sounding things out. We know the sentences and how to say them. We know the ideas and how to present them. We know the prayers and which words to say in what order. But that's only spelling.

Wait till Buzz takes charge of us. A real Fascist dictatorship!" "Nonsense! Nonsense!" snorted Tasbrough. "That couldn't happen here in America, not possibly! We're a country of freemen." "The answer to that," suggested Doremus Jessup, "if Mr. Falck will forgive me, is 'the hell it can't!' Why, there's no country in the world that can get more hysterical—yes, or more obsequious!—than America. Look how Huey Long became absolute monarch over Louisiana, and how the Right Honorable Mr. Senator Berzelius Windrip owns his State. Listen to Bishop Prang and Father Coughlin on the radio—divine oracles, to millions. Remember how casually most Americans have accepted Tammany grafting and Chicago gangs and the crookedness of so many of President Harding's appointees? Could Hitler's bunch, or Windrip's, be worse? Remember the Kuklux Klan? Remember our war hysteria, when we called sauerkraut 'Liberty cabbage' and somebody actually proposed calling German measles 'Liberty measles'? And wartime censorship of honest papers? Bad as Russia! Remember our kissing the—well, the feet of Billy Sunday, the million-dollar evangelist, and of Aimée McPherson, who swam from the Pacific Ocean clear into the Arizona desert and got away with it? Remember Voliva and Mother Eddy?... Remember our Red scares and our Catholic scares, when all well-informed people knew that the O.G.P.U. were hiding out in Oskaloosa, and the Republicans campaigning against Al Smith told the Carolina mountaineers that if Al won the Pope would illegitimatize their children? Remember Tom Heflin and Tom Dixon? Remember when the hick legislators in certain states, in obedience to William Jennings Bryan, who learned his biology from his pious old grandma, set up shop as scientific experts and made the whole world laugh itself sick by forbidding the teaching of evolution?... Remember the Kentucky night-riders? Remember how trainloads of people have gone to enjoy lynchings? Not happen here? Prohibition—shooting down people just because they might be transporting liquor—no, that couldn't happen in America! Why, where in all history has there ever been a people so ripe for a dictatorship as ours!

I don’t think meaning is something that can be explained. You have to understand it on your own. It’s like when you’re starting to read. First, you learn the letters. Then, once you know what sounds the letters make, you use them to sound out words. You know that c-a-t leads to cat and d-o-g leads to dog. But then you have to make that extra leap, to understand that the word, the sound, the “cat” is connected to an actual cat, and that “dog” is connected to an actual dog. It’s that leap, that understanding, that leads to meaning. And a lot of the time in life, we’re still just sounding things out.

DOBA PLAVOG SEĆANJA Maslinjaci i vinogradi daleko sve do mora Crvene ribarske barke još dalje sve do sećanja Zlatne ljušture avgusta u podnevnome snu S algama ili školjkama. I onaj brodić Nov, zelen, koji u mirnom zagrljaju voda još uvek čita D a ć e B o g Prošle su godine lišće ili šljunak Sećam se dečaka, mornara koji su na odlasku Bojili jedra bojom svoga srca Pevajući o četiri strane sveta Sa severcem naslikanim na grudima. Šta sam tražio kad si došla u bojama sunca na istoku Sa dobom mora u očima I sa zdravljem sunca u telu – šta sam tražio Duboko u morskim pećinama u prostranim snovima Gde je svoja osećanja zapenušao vetar Plav i nepoznat, urezujući mi na grudi svoje morsko znamenje S peskom među prstima zatvarao sam šaku S peskom u očima stezao sam šaku Javio se jak bol - Sećam se bio je april kada sam prvi put osetio tvoju ljudsku težinu Tvoje ljudsko telo greh i glinu A toga prvog našeg dana na zemlji Slavili su praznik amarila – ali bolelo te sećam se Ujed na usnama bio je dubok I dubok trag nokta na koži tamo gde se zauvek vreme urezuje Tada sam te ostavio. A šumni vetar poneo je uvis bele kuće Bela sveže umivena osećanja Na nebo osvetljeno osmehom. Odsad ću imati kraj sebe krčag besmrtne vode Imaću oblik slobode vrtoglavog vetra I one tvoje ruke tirane Ljubavi I onu tvoju školjku s odjekom Egejskog mora.

In order to grasp the meaning of this liberal program we need to imagine a world order in which liberalism is supreme. Either all the states in it are liberal, or enough are so that when united they are able to repulse an attack of militarist aggressors. In this liberal world, or liberal part of the world, there is private property in the means of production. The working of the market is not hampered by government interference. There are no trade barriers; men can live and work where they want. Frontiers are drawn on the maps but they do not hinder the migrations of men and shipping of commodities. Natives do not enjoy rights that are denied to aliens. Governments and their servants restrict their activities to the protection of life, health, and property against fraudulent or violent aggression. They do not discriminate against foreigners. The courts are independent and effectively protect everybody against the encroachments of officialdom. Everyone is permitted to say, to write, and to print what he likes. Education is not subject to government interference. Governments are like night-watchmen whom the citizens have entrusted with the task of handling the police power. The men in office are regarded as mortal men, not as superhuman beings or as paternal authorities who have the right and duty to hold the people in tutelage. Governments do not have the power to dictate to the citizens what language they must use in their daily speech or in what language they must bring up and educate their children. Administrative organs and tribunals are bound to use each man’s language in dealing with him, provided this language is spoken in the district by a reasonable number of residents. In such a world it makes no difference where the frontiers of a country are drawn. Nobody has a special material interest in enlarging the territory of the state in which he lives; nobody suffers loss if a part of this area is separated from the state. It is also immaterial whether all parts of the state’s territory are in direct geographical connection, or whether they are separated by a piece of land belonging to another state. It is of no economic importance whether the country has a frontage on the ocean or not. In such a world the people of every village or district could decide by plebiscite to which state they wanted to belong. There would be no more wars because there would be no incentive for aggression. War would not pay. Armies and navies would be superfluous. Policemen would suffice for the fight against crime. In such a world the state is not a metaphysical entity but simply the producer of security and peace. It is the night-watchman, as Lassalle contemptuously dubbed it. But it fulfills this task in a satisfactory way. The citizen’s sleep is not disturbed, bombs do not destroy his home, and if somebody knocks at his door late at night it is certainly neither the Gestapo nor the O.G.P.U. The reality in which we have to live differs very much from this perfect world of ideal liberalism. But this is due only to the fact that men have rejected liberalism for etatism.

Remember how casually most Americans have accepted Tammany grafting and Chicago gangs and the crookedness of so many of President Harding’s appointees? Could Hitler’s bunch, or Windrip’s, be worse? Remember the Kuklux Klan? Remember our war hysteria, when we called sauerkraut ‘Liberty cabbage’ and somebody actually proposed calling German measles ‘Liberty measles’? And wartime censorship of honest papers? Bad as Russia! Remember our kissing the—well, the feet of Billy Sunday, the million-dollar evangelist, and of Aimée McPherson, who swam from the Pacific Ocean clear into the Arizona desert and got away with it? Remember Voliva and Mother Eddy? … Remember our Red scares and our Catholic scares, when all well-informed people knew that the O.G.P.U. were hiding out in Oskaloosa, and the Republicans campaigning against Al Smith told the Carolina mountaineers that if Al won the Pope would illegitimatize their children? Remember Tom Heflin and Tom Dixon? Remember when the hick legislators in certain states, in obedience to William Jennings Bryan, who learned his biology from his pious old grandma, set up shop as scientific experts and made the whole world laugh itself sick by forbidding the teaching of evolution? … Remember the Kentucky night-riders? Remember how trainloads of people have gone to enjoy lynchings? Not happen here? Prohibition—shooting down people just because they might be transporting liquor—no, that couldn’t happen in America! Why, where in all history has there ever been a people so ripe for a dictatorship as ours! We’re ready to start on a Children’s Crusade—only of adults—right now, and the Right Reverend Abbots Windrip and Prang are all ready to lead it!

there’s no country in the world that can get more hysterical—yes, or more obsequious!—than America. Look how Huey Long became absolute monarch over Louisiana, and how the Right Honorable Mr. Senator Berzelius Windrip owns his State. Listen to Bishop Prang and Father Coughlin on the radio—divine oracles, to millions. Remember how casually most Americans have accepted Tammany grafting and Chicago gangs and the crookedness of so many of President Harding’s appointees? Could Hitler’s bunch, or Windrip’s, be worse? Remember the Kuklux Klan? Remember our war hysteria, when we called sauerkraut ‘Liberty cabbage’ and somebody actually proposed calling German measles ‘Liberty measles’? And wartime censorship of honest papers? Bad as Russia! Remember our kissing the—well, the feet of Billy Sunday, the million-dollar evangelist, and of Aimée McPherson, who swam from the Pacific Ocean clear into the Arizona desert and got away with it? Remember Voliva and Mother Eddy?. . .Remember our Red scares and our Catholic scares, when all well-informed people knew that the O.G.P.U. were hiding out in Oskaloosa, and the Republicans campaigning against Al Smith told the Carolina mountaineers that if Al won the Pope would illegitimatize their children? Remember Tom Heflin and Tom Dixon? Remember when the hick legislators in certain states, in obedience to William Jennings Bryan, who learned his biology from his pious old grandma, set up shop as scientific experts and made the whole world laugh itself sick by forbidding the teaching of evolution?. . .Remember the Kentucky night-riders? Remember how trainloads of people have gone to enjoy lynchings? Not happen here? Prohibition—shooting down people

T R O A 02 P A S S N F R L E E O 03 F T C A F L P U P L B 04 F O A K F S U K B B S 05 O U H E L E N U C M G 06 K C A B R E T R A U Q 07 C H N D O G A Y A F E 08 I D D I T O C R H G L 09 K O O C E N D Z O N E 10 G W F I E L D G O A L 11 U N F T B F N F U Q F 12 words

No, not always, but I love language. It is a living, breathing, evolving thing, and language has power. Whether in a song lyric, a poem, a speech, or a simple conversation, we've all experienced words that resonate with us. They make us recall a powerful moment, inspire us, move us, or perhaps, comfort us... But at the same time, we don't think in words. We think in pictures. If I say the word 'dog' to you, you aren't picturing the letters d-o-g, you're picturing a dog from your memory. I'm fascinated by the idea of combining literal language witth visual one.

Standing in front of him was O.G. Banks, one of Lloyd’s crew members. He wasn’t high up on the totem pole, but he always seemed to know what was going on and was happy to run his mouth about it.

O.G. was scurrying through the crowd, headed his way, with a look on his face that said he had some important information that he needed to give him.

idea. O.G. would become a casualty in the process, but Austin didn’t care. It was the duty of the pawns to die in order to protect the throne.

If ever a street nigga looked like he didn’t know whether to shit his pants, cry, or piss himself all at one time, it was O.G.

playing games with people, for instance. That would just be .... twisted "if they are willing participants, there's no harm." he smiled a little. "The fox enjoys the hunt you know.

AT: oKAYYYY, mY BROMO SAPIEN, AT: r U READY, AT: tO GET STRAIGHT IN, FLAT DOWN, BROAD SIDE, SCHOOL FED UP THE BONE BULGE, AT: bY A DOPE SMACKED, TRINKED OUT, SMOTHER FUDGING, AT: tROLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL, TG: dont care AT: oK, lET ME, AT: oRGANIZE MY NOTES HERE, AT: oKAYYY, AT: (tURN ON SOME STRICT BEATS MAYBE, iT WILL HELP TO LISTEN TO THEM WHILE i DESTROY YOU,) AT: wHEN THE POLICE MAN BUSTS ME, aND POPS THE TRUNK, AT: hE'S ALL SUPRISED TO FIND I'M TOTING SICK BILLY, AT: wHOSE, AT: gOAT IS THAT, hE ASKS, wHILE HE STOPS TO THUNK AT: aBOUT IT, aND i'S JUST SAY IT'S DAVE'S, yOU SILLY AT: gOOSE, AT: bUT THE MAN SAYS, gOOSE! wHERE, lET ME SEE YOUR HANDS, AT: aND i SAY SHIT SORRY, i DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS HONKTRABAND, AT: wOW, oK, AT: i AM GETTING OFF THE POINT, wHICH WAS, AT: aBOUT THIS HOT MESS DAVE, tHAT YOU GOT LANDED IN, AT: lIKE THE COP i MENTIONED, bUT INSTEAD OF YOUR BADGE, AT: aND YOUR GUN, IT'S YOUR ASS THAT YOU HANDED IN, AT: (aND THEN GOT HANDED BACK TO YOU,) AT: cAUSE THAT'S HOW HUMANS GET SERVED, AT: aND GUYS LIKE YOU DESERVE TO UNDERSTAND THAT iT'S, AT: a CIRCLE AND HORNS IN YOUR BUTT THAT GOT BRANDED IN, AT: (uMM, bEFORE i GAVE YOUR ASS BACK TO YOU, i DID THAT, iS WHAT i MEAN,) AT: bUT i MEAN, gETTING BACK TO THE POINT, oR MAYBE TWO ACTUALLY, AT: tHE FIRST IS YOU SUCK, aND THE SECOND IS HOW i SMACKEDYOUFULLY, AT: (oH YEAH, tHAT RHYME WAS SO ILLLLLLLLL,) AT: bUT NO, jUST JOKING, lET'S SEE, hOW CAN i PUT THIS TACTFULLULLY, AT: i MEAN THE POINTS ON THE HORNS ON MY HEAD, AT: cOMING AT YOU THROUGH TRAFFIC, AT: aIMED AT THE TARGET ON YOUR SHIRT THAT IS RED, AT: wE'RE ABOUT TO GET MAD HORNOGRAPHIC, AT: (i MEAN SORT OF LIKE A GRAPHIC CRIME SCENE, nOT LIKE,) AT: (aNYTHING SEXUAL,) AT: (eRR, wHOAAAAA,) AT: (nEVERMIND,) AT: oK, gETTING BACK TO THE ACTUAL, tACTICAL, vERNACULAR SMACKCICLE, AT: i'M FORCING YOU TO BE LICKING, (aND lIKING,) AT: gRAB MY HORNS AND START KICKING, lIKE YOU'RE RIDING A VIKING, AT: cAUSE i'M YOUR BULLY, aND YOU'RE NOT IN CHARGE, AT: yOU THINK YOU'RE IN CHARGE BUT YOU'RE NOT IN CHARGE, AT: i'M IN CHARGE, cAUSE i'M CHARGING IN, AT: yOUR CHINASHOP, AT: bREAKING, uH, yOUR PLATES AND STUFF, WHICH i DON'T REALLY KNOW, AT: wHAT THE PLATES ARE SUPPOSED TO REPRESENT, bUT, AT: (fUCK,) AT: iT'S JUST THAT YOU THINK YOU ARE THE COCK OF THE WALK'S HOT SHIT AT: bUT WHEN IN FACT YOU ARE NOT, mORE LIKE YOU ARE, AT: sOMETHING THAT RHYMES WITH THE COCK OF THE WALK'S HOT SHIT, AT: bUT IS SO MUCH WORSE THAN THE COCK'S SHIT, AT: sO, gIVEN THAT, lET ME BE THE FIRST, AT: tO SAY YOU ACT LIKE YOU'RE GOLD FROM PROSPIT, AT: wHEN YOU'RE REALLY COLD SHIT FLUSHED FROM DERSE,

Everything will be okay with the happy face of your face -The sleepless writer

So, the image to start. The perception of the world as it is, the phantasm, the flare of the visionary idea is flattened to a page by the male intellect. Controlled, categorized, c-a-t-a-l-o-g-u-e-d. The ethereal is quashed. Address, that beautiful oration announcing itself, becomes a dress feebly worn, becomes a picture of a dress in a catalogue.

i​f​ ​c​a​s​e​ ​1​8​.​.​.​3​5​ ​=​ ​a​g​e​ ​w​h​e​r​e​ ​a​g​e​ ​>​=​ ​2​1​ ​{​  ​ ​ ​p​r​i​n​t​(​"​I​n​ ​c​o​o​l​ ​d​e​m​o​g​r​a​p​h​i​c​ ​a​n​d​ ​o​f​ ​d​r​i​n​k​i​n​g​ ​a​g​e​"​)​ }​

Vibrant red dirt stretched as far as the eye could see.

Chris let go two stiff punches, connecting with Roy’s face. Roy unsuccessfully tried to cover with his arms locked in front of his face, then rolled to his stomach in an effort to hide from the onslaught. Big mistake. Chris punched him a couple more times in the back of the head. He slipped his right arm around Roy’s thick neck then quickly locked him in a half-nelson sleeper hold. After a moment of squirming, Roy went limp. Chris rolled him on his side in the recovery position. He checked his pulse and breathing to make sure he hadn’t killed the poor bastard. He was okay. Just asleep. Chris didn’t have a choice. This was serious. He couldn’t have a fool down here with him. They were potentially facing an enemy no one had ever faced. ***

„”La naiba cu tot”[…] Oare când se vor termina necazurile? De aproape un an, viața mea se dăduse complet peste cap. Și cândte gândești că îmi dorisem atât de mult o viață activă și plină de acțiune. Na, acțiune!

B ir a k ş a m, s e v g i d en s ö z e d e r k e n, bir l e o p ar b a ş ı nı ka l­ d ı r dı ve m ü n z e v i ye d e d i, " B i ze s e v g i d en s ö z e d i y o r s u n u z. S ö y l e y in E f e n d im , sizin e ş i n iz n e r e d e ?" Ve m ü n z e vi d e d i , " B e n im e ş im y o k ." Ve h a y v a n l ar ve k u ş l ar a r a s ı n da bir ş a ş k ı n l ık v a v e y l as ı d ır ki k o p t u, ve a r a l a r ı n da k o n u ş m a ya b a ş l a d ı l a r, " K e n­ d i si bu k o n u da b ir ş ey b i l m e z k en bi ze na s ıl s e v g i d en ve a n l a ş m a d an s ö z e d e b i l ir k i ?" Ve s e s s i z ce ve k ü ç ü m s e m e y le y a n ı n d an a y r ı l ıp g i t t i l e r. O g e c e. m ü n z e vi d ö ş e ğ i ne y ü z ü k o y un u z a n dı ve g ö ğ­ s ü nü y u m r u k l a y a r ak acı acı a ğ l a d ı. 20

noncontradicţiei este fals -, n - a r putea f i gândit sau comunicat. Or, în fapt, toată lumea gândeşte ş i comunică ceva anume , i n c l u s i v sofiştii, cei c a r e cont e s t ă pr inc ipiul noncontrad iqi e i . Altminteri, dacă nu a r comunica, omul a r fi, zice Aristotel, "aidoma unei l e gume " . Iar dacă nu ar comunica ceva determinat, omul nu ar comuni c a , în fapt, n imi c . R ealitatea comunicării unu i subiea determinat, aşadar, pr e supune acceptarea une i con­ sistenţe a gândirii, a unei determinări coerente a gândului gândit ş i apoi comunicat, ceea ce, la rândul său, impl i c ă pr inc ipiul noncont r adiqi e i . Pentru ca omul s ă rămână în domeniul logos-ului , al g ândului coe r ent ş i al expresiei ve rba l e ne e chi ­ voc e , e necesar c a el să ut i l i z e z e imp l i c i t pr inc ipiul noncontra­ dicţiei, fie şi atunci când, explicit, el ar dori să-I conteste. Chiar da c ă - aşa cum crede de e x emplu J. Lukasiewicz - acest pr inc ipiu nu este o "lege a l o g i c i i " ş i nu arc valoare logică ca atare, el întemeiază orice l im b aj omenesc ş i înfiinţează orice responsabilitate pentru spusele rostite şi faptele comise. Iar dacă el nu este încă logic, cu siguranţă că el întemeiază logica. Or, pe de altă parte, după cum s-a spus, e pl auz ibi l ca orice consistenţă a gândirii să fie un reflex al consistenţei lumii. (Prin­ c ipiul noncontradicţiei nu poate funcţiona în cazul unor obiecte imaginare inconsistente, precum un triunghi dreptunghic cehi­ lateral.) I a r o lume consistentă este o lume unde există Fi inţ ă . Aş ada r , pr int r -un f e l de " a r gument ontologic" imp l i c it, subt i l ş i ma i p u ţ i n pretenţios decât cel " c la s i c " al l u i An s e lm din Cantcrbury, Aristotel deduce, din faptul incontestabil a l comu­ nicării umane, că trebuie să existe Fiinţă. Unde este Fiinţa ? Dar, chiar dacă acum ş t im că trebuie să existe Fi inţ a , încă n u ş t im unde s e află ea, sau ce anume este ea - altfel spus, cu ce porţiune din realitate s e identifică ea. Problema pare etern ă : " iată subiectul cercetat şi controversat şi în vechime, şi a cum, ş i p u r u re a : ce e s t e ceea-ce-este, adi c ă ce e s t e F i i nţa ? " - scrie Aristotel. Într-adevăr, filozofii, predecesorii săi, au identificat Fiinţa - adică porţiunea de stabilitate şi coerenţă din lume -

noncontradicţiei este fals -, n - a r putea f i gândit sau comunicat. Or, în fapt, toată lumea gândeşte ş i comunică ceva anume , i n c l u s i v sofiştii, cei c a r e cont e s t ă pr inc ipiul noncontrad iqi e i . Altminteri, dacă nu a r comunica, omul a r fi, zice Aristotel, "aidoma unei l e gume " . Iar dacă nu ar comunica ceva determinat, omul nu ar comuni c a , în fapt, n imi c . R ealitatea comunicării unu i subiea determinat, aşadar, pr e supune acceptarea une i con­ sistenţe a gândirii, a unei determinări coerente a gândului gândit ş i apoi comunicat, ceea ce, la rândul său, impl i c ă pr inc ipiul noncont r adiqi e i . Pentru ca omul s ă rămână în domeniul logos-ului , al g ândului coe r ent ş i al expresiei ve rba l e ne e chi ­ voc e , e necesar c a el să ut i l i z e z e imp l i c i t pr inc ipiul noncontra­ dicţiei, fie şi atunci când, explicit, el ar dori să-I conteste. Chiar da c ă - aşa cum crede de e x emplu J. Lukasiewicz - acest pr inc ipiu nu este o "lege a l o g i c i i " ş i nu arc valoare logică ca atare, el întemeiază orice l im b aj omenesc ş i înfiinţează orice responsabilitate pentru spusele rostite şi faptele comise. Iar dacă el nu este încă logic, cu siguranţă că el întemeiază logica. Or, pe de altă parte, după cum s-a spus, e pl auz ibi l ca orice consistenţă a gândirii să fie un reflex al consistenţei lumii. (Prin­ c ipiul noncontradicţiei nu poate funcţiona în cazul unor obiecte imaginare inconsistente, precum un triunghi dreptunghic cehi­ lateral.) I a r o lume consistentă este o lume unde există Fi inţ ă . Aş ada r , pr int r -un f e l de " a r gument ontologic" imp l i c it, subt i l ş i ma i p u ţ i n pretenţios decât cel " c la s i c " al l u i An s e lm din Cantcrbury, Aristotel deduce, din faptul incontestabil a l comu­ nicării umane, că trebuie să existe Fiinţă. Unde este Fiinţa ? Dar, chiar dacă acum ş t im că trebuie să existe Fi inţ a , încă n u ş t im unde s e află ea, sau ce anume este ea - altfel spus, cu ce porţiune din realitate s e identifică ea. Problema pare etern ă : " iată subiectul cercetat şi controversat şi în vechime, şi a cum, ş i p u r u re a : ce e s t e ceea-ce-este, adi c ă ce e s t e F i i nţa ? " - scrie Aristotel. Într-adevăr, filozofii, predecesorii săi, au identificat Fiinţa - adică porţiunea de stabilitate şi coerenţă din lume

Benedict (480–547) also put a greater emphasis on the Christian life as being in the service of magnifying God's name. Manual labor was as much religious ministry as prayer, and everything came under the heading U.I.O.G.D.: Ut in omnibus glorificetur Deus (“That in all things God may be glorified”).

We need to get out of Pakistan...” she said, trailing off. “We are going to die here.” I looked towards her and saw how saddened she looked. She felt so hopeless so soon? I became concerned and scared.  “Are we going to Uncle Rannie’s to find Ambriel?” I asked. Once again, no answer. I became angry but held my tongue. She was my big sister, and I respected her more than words could express.  I thought we had to find our other leg to make the tripod whole. The two of us were incomplete without Ambriel.  We had to find our sister.

Zahra is the light. My job is to keep her safe and watch her shine while using my knowledge to guide us to the day of our redemption.

C o n s ume r goo d s are attract i v e a n d p l e a s u rable e n o u g h o n t h e i r o w n witho u t t h e i de o l o g i ­ c al e l emen t ; t h e y don ' t n e e d a d e mo c ra t i c s u p p l eme n t . T h e tre a tme n t o f c o n sume r good s a s markers o f e q u al­ i ty a n d i n d ic ators of d emo c ra c y wa s for the Sov i e t o t h e r b e fore whos e j u dg i n g g a z e t h e U S i m ag in e d i t s e lf. 2 I bi d . , 2 0 4

„Trăgând în piept aerul curat am zâmbit. Nu ştiam unde erau ceilalţi, dar în momentul acela mă simţeam cu adevărat egoistă şi prea încântată de propria stare de bine ca să îmi mai pese. Erau cu toţii fiinţe supranaturale, deci îşi puteau purta singuri de grijă.

„- Eşti curajoasă, domnişoară. – Mi s-a mai spus. Dar vă rog să nu confundaţi curajul meu cu inconştienţa. Poate că nu vă cunosc întreaga istorie şi nu sunt la curent cu întâmplările, pe care le bănuiesc extraordinare, din viaţa dumneavoastră, dar nu îmi este teamă. Nu pot muri decât o singură dată, pe când greşelile le pot repeta la nesfârşit. Mi le asum. Într-un anumit fel vă înţeleg dorinţa de a trăi în anonimatul acesta poleit. Ceea ce nu înţeleg este de ce pretindeţi de la noi să jucăm un joc în care nimeni nu crede. Îl vedeam cu coada ochiului pe Ian, care mai avea puţin şi ţâşnea spre tavan de mânios ce era. – Mă crezi ipocrit? întrebă fomorul rezemându-şi braţele de masă şi aplecându-se în faţă ca să mă vadă mai bine. – Ipocrit? Nu. Dar bănuiesc că v-aţi jucat atâta vreme cu vieţile celorlalţi, încât aţi ajuns să confundaţi jocul cu realitatea. Probabil că este greu să fii lider, am adăugat eu ca o concesie făcută gazdei. […] – Ai dreptate. Ai perfectă dreptate. Eşti una dintre puţinele persoane care au avut curajul să îmi vorbească astfel. Celelalte nu mai sunt în viaţă ca să poată povesti, adăugă el, însă o făcu pe un ton glumeţ.

„…era înalt și avea cel mai negru păr pe care îl văzusem vreodată, știți, nuanța aceea de negru care bate în albastru. Și era ondulat, aproape prea perfect ca să pară real. Destul de lung cât să îi încadreze fața, se răsucea în bucle spre ceafă. Eram de-a dreptul invidioasă în acel moment pentru că părea nedrept ca un bărbat să aibă un astfel de păr.

„- Acum suntem legați. Te voi găsi oriunde ai fi, iar tu mă poți găsi pe mine.

A R S P O E T I C A 8 N a s a mo t r e ba g o v o r i t i s n o ć i, Š u š t a t i c r n im c e s t a r om j e l a, S p l e t e nu g r a nu r a s p l i t a t i I š a p a t om o d g o n e t a t i l i š ć e . . . D u b o ko n a g n u t i se n ad v o d o m, S r a s t i se r u k a ma s v o d o s t a j em I r u ke d r v e ta b e z n a d e ž no D e l i t i i s p a j a ti na o g l e d a lu j e z e ra . . . I u s p l e tu c r n ih r e či i b i l ja U s l i ci z v e z d a, u p r e đi n o ći U g l e d a t i s v o je c r te u o g l e d a lu p e s a m a: L e p še . . . z b r i s a ne . . . 59

You’re talking about O.G.R.E. armor. This is the walking embodiment of the Ship of Theseus,” Dax said motioning to the suit.

many of the 1977–1978 punk generation “flopped the hardcore testo rage rite,” and gravitated to a new breed of roots-based rock bands with a foot planted in the O.G. punk firmament. These included Top Jimmy and the Rhythm Pigs, a brawny, hard-drinking blues–rock unit fronted by “Top Jimmy” Koncek, a close friend of and sometime roadie for the punk band X; the Gun Club, a feral, unpredictable punk–blues unit led by vocalist–songwriter Jeffrey Lee Pierce, a blues devotee and frequent contributor to Slash magazine; and Phast Phreddie and Thee Precisions, a cranked-up R&B unit featuring singer Fred “Phast Phreddie” Patterson, former co-editor of Back Door Man, the first fanzine to explore L.A. punk. By late 1980, the NYC-by-way-of-Cleveland psychobilly quartet the Cramps had relocated to Los Angeles. The Flesh Eaters—one of the earliest L.A. punk bands, led by singer–songwriter Chris D. (born Chris Desjardins), another Slash contributor and head of the magazine’s in-house subsidiary label, Ruby Records—would begin to probe punk–blues terrain with the 1981 album A Minute to Pray, A Second to Die, a swampy collection on which the bandleader was backed by members of X and the Blasters.

It is imagination that gives reality its form.

Teremos, portanto, um a​ ​conhecimento perfeito de todas as nossas b​ ​culpas, e nossa impureza, e nossa c​ ​nudez; e os justos terão um conhecimento perfeito de sua alegria, e sua d​ ​retidão, estando e​ ​vestidos com f​ ​pureza, sim, com o g​ ​manto da retidão.

Het bloed kruipt waar het niet gaan kan. Zo ook liefde.

Als een man, hoe lief en zorgzaam hij ook zijn mag, iets wil wat hij niet bij jou kan krijgen, dan haalt hij het vroeg of laat ergens anders wel. Het gebrek is de vader van de misstap.

In tijden van oorlog is iedereen slecht, dan is iedereen, rechtstreeks of onrechtstreeks, een moordenaar.

Wat haatte ik dat zwijgen van volwassenen. Ze zeiden niets, maar tegelijkertijd zeiden ze alles.

...blijkbaar is een mens altijd bang om te sterven. Ofwel omwille van de onzekerheid die daarop volgt, ofwel omdat het leven verslavend mooi is.

We are victims of our own choices, is found in Six Feathers To The Son< that can be found in His Ultimate Path. The P.U.S.H. Method. Pray until something Happens Then Pray some more, or The F.R.O.G. Method Fully Rely On God.

We are victims of our own choices, is found in Six Feathers To The Son< that can be found in His Ultimate Path. The P.U.S.H. Method. Pray until something Happens Then Pray some more, or The F.R.O.G. Method Fully Rely On God. These can be found in my book. The Many Wonders Of Deanie in the IF poem.

De leegte die na de bevrijding volgt, is soms dodelijker dan de gevangenschap zelf.

De waarheid bevrijdt.

The person you are going to be in the Future have something in connection with the Books you Read.

To explain is to expose and to expose is to explain and here I am running to you poetry again.

Never feel shame for trying and failing, for he who never failed is he who never tried.

Sitting in the back of a cab, Scott pictures the boy eating cereal in front of the tv late at night - unable to sleep - watching a dog drawn from letters d-o-g talk to a cat drawn from the letters c-a-t. If only real life were that simple, where everyone we met and every place we went was fashioned from the pure essence of its identity. Where you looked at a man and saw the letters f-r-i-e-n-d, and looked at a woman and saw the word w-i-f-e.

In this section you will learn three different strategies or what I call the E.O.G. (Expert –Offer–Goal) Method of coming up with content ideas.

let’s get started on how to come up with blog post content ideas using the E.O.G. (Expert –Offer–Goal) Method.

That’s why I’d begun to trust him. He’d said last, not laaast. Pass not paaass. He was a northerner.

Bring up your favorite search engine, and type in g-e-n-e-a-l-o-g-y (without the dashes), and have fun.

Al krijg je de pest, als het op je voorhoofd geschreven staat dat je tot een welbepaalde leeftijd op deze aardbol moet ronddwalen, dan zal de dood jou na een flinke plaagronde uiteindelijk toch met rust laten.

Je zult nog veel meemaken in je leven. Het is belangrijk dat je leert vergeven. Het kan goed zijn dat de ander jouw vergiffenis niet verdient, maar jij verdient wel rust. Innerlijke rust. En dat is waar het in dit leven om draait.