Omni Quotes

Love is omni-inclusive, progressively exquisite, understanding and compassionately attuned to other than self.

The sadistic narcissist perceives himself as Godlike, ruthless and devoid of scruples, capricious and unfathomable, emotion-less and non-sexual, omniscient, omnipotent and omni-present, a plague, a devastation, an inescapable verdict.

Omnis vir lupus.

Omnis cellula e cellula," he said again. "All cells come from cells. Every cell is born of a previous cell, which was born of a previous cell. Life comes from life. Life begets life begets life begets life begets life.

Part of the function of memory is to forget; the omni-retentive mind will break down and produce at best an idiot savant who can recite a telephone book, and at worst a person to whom every grudge and slight is as yesterday's.

Non omnis moriar

When Lars first held her, his heart melted over her like butter on warm bread, and he would never get it back. When mother and baby were asleep in the hospital room, he went out to the parking lot, sat in his Dodge Omni, and cried like a man who had never wanted anything in his life until now.

Your omnipresence is marvellous! I breathe and you enter me. I exhale and enter into you.

Slavery became the social condition of the laboring classes because it was felt that it was the natural condition of life itself. Omnis vita servitium est.

omnis mundi creatura / quasi liber et pictura / nobis est in speculum (all the creatures of the world / as a book and a picture / are to us a mirror)

Priusquam autem ad creationem, hoc est ad finem omnis disputationis, veniamus: tentanda omnia existimo. However, before we come to [special] creation, which puts an end to all discussion: I think we should try everything else.

If you ignorantly believe there’s not enough life support available on planet Earth for all humanity, then survival only of the fittest seems self-flatteringly to warrant magna-selfishness. However, it is due only to humans’ born state of ignorance and the 99.99-percent invisibility of technological capabilities that they do not recognize the vast abundance of resources available to support all humanity at an omni-high standard of living.

In me omnis spes mihi est. [Sólo en mí mismo está toda esperanza.] TERENCIO, Phormio, 139.

Per aspera ad astra.” “Through the thorns to the stars.” Sevro snickers. “You fancy little fart. Omnis vir lupus.” Everyone a wolf.

Jo? Look at me. I’m about to do something really f**king stupid. When I do this, I need you to remember three words for me. Omni rosae spina.” Thorn “Every rose has its thorn?” Jo “Good, you understand Latin. Yes. Commit those words to memory in the event I lose control. Okay?” Thorn

Suttree surfaced from these fevered deeps to hear a maudlin voice chant latin by his bedside, what medieval ghost come to usurp his fallen corporeality. An oiled thumball redolent of lime and sage pondered his shuttered lids. Miserere mei, Deus ... His ears anointed, his lips ... omnis maligna discordia ... Bechrismed with scented oils he lay boneless in a cold euphoria. Japheth when you left your father's house the birds had flown. You were not prepared for such weathers. You'd spoke too lightly of the winter in your father's heart. We saw you in the streets. Sad.

The biggest deception of our digital age may be the lie that says we can be omni-competent, omni-informed, and omni-present. We cannot be any of these things. We must choose our absence, our inability, and our ignorance—and choose wisely.

Omnis natura, inquantum natura est, bonum est.

Militat omnis amans.

omnis motus, quo celerior, eo magis motus.

Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus. Omnis Satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversii. Omnis congregatio et secta diabolica, ergo, draco maledicte ecclesiam tuam. Secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos.

Radical individualism, radical egalitarianism, omnipresent and omni-incompetent government, the politicization of the culture, and the battle for advantages through politics shatter a society into fragments of isolated individuals and angry groups.

His words were then these as followeth: Know all men, he said, time’s ruins build eternity’s mansions. What means this? Desire’s wind blasts the thorntree but after it becomes from a bramblebush to be a rose upon the rood of time. Mark me now. In woman’s womb word is made flesh but in the spirit of the maker all flesh that passes becomes the word that shall not pass away. This is the postcreation. Omnis cam ad te veniet

Ille mi par esse deo videtur ille, si fas est, superare divos, qui sedens adversus identitem te spectat et audit dulce ridentem, misero quod omnis eripit sensus mihi: nam simul te, Lesbia, aspexi, nihil est super mi lingua sed torpet, tenuis sub artus flamma demanat, sonitu suopte tintinant aures gemina, teguntur lumina nocte. otium, Catulle, tibi molestum est; otio exsultas nimiumque gestis; otium et reges prius et beatas perdidit urbes.

I used to joke I'd escaped the curse of the male gaze, because so many men have to physically look up to meet my eyes. But the male gaze is a gods-eye view. Which is to say: omni-present, and internalized. There's still a man in the mirror, watching me look at myself.

All retailers need to adjust their product delivery systems to the new omni-channel shopping trends.

Mostly, they are deceptive sweetenings of existence, like speedier communications which unpleasantly accelerate the tempo of life and leave us with less time than ever before. Omnis festinatio ex parte diaboli est—all haste is of the devil, as the old masters used to say.

Omnis cellula e cellula,” he said again. “All cells come from cells. Every cell is born of a previous cell, which was born of a previous cell. Life comes from life. Life begets life begets life begets life begets life.

It's not about in store versus online, or physical versus virtual... business in this century is often but not always about omni-channel distribution and getting leads and sales through a variety of platforms that may include all of the above or unique combinations.

the future of this country is all about patriotic, unity-inducing language. Post-Racial. Trans–Jim Crow. Epi-Traumatic. Alt-Reparational. Omni-Restitutional. Jingoistic Body-Positive. Sociocultural-Transcendental. Indigenous-Ripostic. Treaty of Fort Laramie–Perpendicular. Meta-Exculpatory. Pan-Political. Uber-Intermutual. MLK-Adjacent. Demi-Arcadian Bucolic.

In omni disciplina informa est artis praeceptio sine summa assiduitate exercitationis.

Non omnis moriar

The biggest deception of our digital age may be the lie that says we can be omni-competent, omni-informed, and omni-present.

omnis mundi creatura quasi liber et pictura nobis est in speculum

Quando Omni Flunkus Mortati

«Non omnis moriar [No moriré del todo]».

Anthimus’s pronouncement on garum has echoed through Western cooking: “Nam liquamen ex omni parte prohibemus,” We ban the use of garum from every culinary role.

Omnis vir lupus.” Everyone a wolf.

Benny Shadway, the man Eric had thought was Rachael’s lover, said there were basically four types of people: past-, present-, future-, and omni-focused.

Turpis autem fuga mortis omni est morte pejor.

Omnis illuminatio ab uno lumine; et multi sunt radii, et unum lumen.

Itaque inter omnis omnium gentium summa constat; omnibus enim innatum est et in animo quasi insculptum esse deos.

In woman’s womb word is made flesh but in the spirit of the maker all flesh that passes becomes the word that shall not pass away. This is the postcreation. Omnis caro ad te veniet.

Unde omnis lex humanitus posita intantum habet de ratione legis, inquantum a lege naturae derivatur. Si vero in aliquo a lege naturali discordet, iam non erit lex sed legis corruptio.

Post-Racial. Trans–Jim Crow. Epi-Traumatic. Alt-Reparational. Omni-Restitutional. Jingoistic Body-Positive. Sociocultural-Transcendental. Indigenous-Ripostic. Treaty of Fort Laramie–Perpendicular. Meta-Exculpatory. Pan-Political. Uber-Intermutual. MLK-Adjacent. Demi-Arcadian Bucolic. That is the vernacular of the inclusive, hyphenated, beau-American destiny we’re manifesting here! You and me! Book by book we’re making it happen! But it doesn’t happen by planting flags and picking at the scabbed-over wounds of a certain Dispossessed Neo-Global Cultural demographic committed at the hands of a onetime possibly improprietous proto-nation.

Ordinary society is, in this respect, very like the kind of music to be obtained from an orchestra composed of Russian horns. Each horn has only one note; and the music is produced by each note coming in just at the right moment. In the monotonous sound of a single horn, you have a precise illustration of the effect of most people's minds. How often there seems to be only one thought there! and no room for any other. It is easy to see why people are so bored; and also why they are sociable, why they like to go about in crowds—why mankind is so gregarious. It is the monotony of his own nature that makes a man find solitude intolerable. Omnis stultitia laborat fastidio sui: folly is truly its own burden. Put a great many men together, and you may get some result—some music from your horns! A

Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas,               atque metus omnis et inexorabile fatum subiecit pedibus strepitumque Acherontis auari. Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas,               atque metus omnis et inexorabile fatum subiecit pedibus strepitumque Acherontis auari. (on Lucretius)

Four billion people on this earth, but my imagination is the way it's always been: bad with large numbers. It is still moved by particularity. It flits about the darkness like a flashlight beam, disclosing only random faces, while the rest go blindly by, unthought of, unpitied. Not even a Dante could have stopped that. So what do you do when you're not, even with all the muses on your side? Non omnis moriar—a premature worry. Yet am I fully alive, and is that enough? It never has been, and even less so now. I select by rejecting, for there's no other way, but what I reject, is more numerous, more dense, more intrusive than ever. At the cost of untold losses—a poem, a sigh. I reply with a whisper to a thunderous calling. How much I am silent about I can't say. A mouse at the foot of mother mountain. Life lasts as long as a few lines of claws in the sand. My dreams—even they are not as populous as they should be. There is more solitude in them than crowds or clamor. Sometimes someone long dead will drop by for a bit. A single hand turns a knob. Annexes of echo overgrow the empty house. I run from the threshold down into the quiet valley seemingly no one's—an anachronism by now. Where does all this space still in me come from— that I don't know.

There’s plenty, isn’t there? Not those frycake things they like but good hot food the winters are so bad we need coal a sin to burn trees on the prairie yesterday the snow sifted in under the door quaesumus, da propitius pacem in diebus nostris Sister Roberta is peeling the onions et a peccato simus semper liberi can’t you ab omni perturbatione securi…

it’s always better to err on the side of kindness. That’s the secret.

Ships don't sink because of the water around them; ships sink because of the water that gets in them. Don't let what's happening around you get inside you and weigh you down.

Thanks to suffering and madness, I have had a finer, richer life than any of you, and I wish to go to my death with dignity, as befits the great moment after which all dignity and majesty cease. Let my body be my ark and my death a long floating on the waves of eternity. A nothing amid nothingness. What defense have I against nothingness but this ark in which I have tried to gather everything that was dear to me, people, birds, animals, and plants, everything that I carry in my eye and in my heart, in the triple-decked ark of my body and soul. Like the pharaohs in the majestic peace of their tombs, I wanted to have all those things with me in death, I wanted everything to be as it was before; I wanted the birds to sing for me forever, I wanted to exchange Charon's bark for another, less desolate and less empty; I wanted to ennoble eternity's unconscionable void with the bitter herbs that spring from the heart of man, to ennoble the soundless emptiness of eternity with the cry of the cuckoo and the song of the lark. All I have done is to develop that bitter poetic metaphor, carry it with passionate logic to its ultimate consequence, which transforms sleep into waking (and the converse); lucidity into madness (and the converse); life into death, as though there were no borderline, and the converse; death into eternity, as if they were not one and the same thing. Thus my egoism is only the egoism of human existence, the egoism of life, counterweight to the egoism of death, and, appearances to the contrary, my consciousness resists nothingness with an egoism that has no equal, resists the outrage of death with the passionate metaphor of the wish to reunite the few people and the bit of love that made up my life. I have wanted and still want to depart this life with specimens of people, flora and fauna, to lodge them all in my heart as in an ark, to shut them up behind my eyelids when they close for the last time. I wanted to smuggle this pure abstraction into nothingness, to sneak it across the threshold of that other abstraction, so crushing in its immensity: the threshold of nothingness. I have therefore tried to condense this abstraction, to condense it by force of will, faith, intelligence, madness, and love (self-love), to condense it so drastically that its specific weight will be such as to life it like a balloon and carry it beyond the reach of darkness and oblivion. If nothing else survives, perhaps my material herbarium or my notes or my letters will live on, and what are they but condensed, materialized idea; materialized life: a paltry, pathetic human victory over immense, eternal, divine nothingness. Or perhaps--if all else is drowned in the great flood--my madness and my dream will remain like a northern light and a distant echo. Perhaps someone will see that light or hear that distant echo, the shadow of a sound that was once, and will grasp the meaning of that light, that echo. Perhaps it will be my son who will someday publish my notes and my herbarium of Pannonian plants (unfinished and incomplete, like all things human). But anything that survives death is a paltry, pathetic victory over the eternity of nothingness--a proof of man's greatness and Yahweh's mercy. Non omnis moriar.

Indeed, for all their traditional antagonisms and obvious differences, the so-called black and so-called white people of the United States resemble nobody else in the world so much as they resemble each other.

American culture, even in its most rigidly segregated precincts, is patently and irrevocably composite …the so-called black and so-called white people of the United States resemble nobody else in the world so much as they resemble each other.

In the context of a national dialogue, perhaps the only authorization required for “putting in your little two cents worth” is the constitutional provision for free speech. Moreover, the basis for the presumptions of dissent and counter-statement is the same as for popping off: the merest hint or suspicion that outrage is being committed against one’s conception of actuality.

products.” The Global Positioning System (GPS) uses spread spectrum. So does the U.S. military’s $41 billion MILSATCOM satellite communications network. Wireless local area networks (wLANs) use spread spectrum, as do wireless cash registers, bar-code readers, restaurant menu pads, and home control systems. So does Qualcomm’s Omni-TRACS mobile information system for commercial trucking fleets. So do unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs), electronic automotive subsystems, aerial and maritime mobile broadband, wireless access points, digital watermarking, and much more. A study done for Microsoft in 2009 estimated the minimum economic value of spread-spectrum Wi-Fi in homes and hospitals and RFID tags in clothing retail outlets in the U.S. as $16–$37 billion per year. These uses, the study notes, “only account for 15% of the total projected market for unlicensed [spectrum] chipsets in 2014, and therefore significantly underestimates the total value being generated in unlicensed usage over this time period.” A market of which 15 percent is $25 billion would be a $166 billion market.

Carmen LXXVI Siqua recordanti benefacta priora voluptas est homini, cum se cogitat esse pium, nec sanctam violasse fidem, nec foedere in ullo divum ad fallendos numine abusum homines, multa parata manent in longa aetate, Catulle, ex hoc ingrato gaudia amore tibi. nam quaecumque homines bene cuiquam aut dicere possunt aut facere, haec a te dictaque factaque sunt; omnia quae ingratae perierunt credita menti. quare cur tu te iam amplius excrucies? quin tu animum offirmas atque istinc teque reducis et dis invitis desinis esse miser? difficilest longum subito deponere amorem. difficilest, verum hoc qualubet efficias. una salus haec est, hoc est tibi pervincendum: hoc facias, sive id non pote sive pote. o di, si vestrumst misereri, aut si quibus umquam extremam iam ipsa in morte tulistis opem, me miserum aspicite et, si vitam puriter egi, eripite hanc pestem perniciemque mihi. heu, mihi surrepens imos ut torpor in artus expulit ex omni pectore laetitias! non iam illud quaero, contra me ut diligat illa, aut, quod non potis est, esse pudica velit: ipse valere opto et taetrum hunc deponere morbum. o di, reddite mi hoc pro pietate mea.

Una mirada de reojo a mi sombrero de Hamlet. ¿Si me quedara súbitamente desnudo aquí mismo donde estoy sentado? No lo estoy. A través de las arenas de todo el mundo, seguida hacia el oeste por la espada llameante del sol, emigrando hacia tierras crepusculares. Ella marcha agobiada, schleppea, remolca, arrastra, trascina su carga. Una marea hacia el oeste, selenearrastrada, en su estela. Mareas, dentro de ella, miríadinsulada, sangre no mía, oinoma ponton, un mar vino oscuro. He aquí la criada de la luna. En sueños el signo líquido le dice su hora, le ordena abandonar el lecho. Leche nupcial natal mortal, cirioespectroiluminada. Omnis caro ad te veniet. Él viene, pálido vampiro, atravesando la tormenta con sus ojos, su velamen de murciélago navega ensangrentando el mar, boca al beso de su boca. Vamos. Tomémoslo al vuelo, ¿quieres? Mis tabletas. Boca a su besar. No. Debe de haber dos. Pégalas bien. Boca al beso de su boca. Sus labios dieron labios y boca a inmateriales besos de aire. Boca a su vientre. Antro, tumba donde todo entra. Del molde de su boca en su aliento fue exhalado sin palabras: ooeehah; estruendo de astros en catarata, igniciones esféricas bramando sevanvanvanvanvanvanvan. Papel. Los billetes de banco, malditos sean.

Quod siquis dicat, Ergone populus tyrannicae crudelitati & furori jugulum semper praebebit? Ergone multitude civitates suas fame, ferro, & flamma vastari, seque, conjuges, & liberos fortunae ludibrio & tyranni libidini exponi, inque omnia vitae pericula omnesque miserias & molestias a rege deduci patientur? Num illis quod omni animantium generi est a natura tributum, denegari debet, ut sc. vim vi repellant, seseq; ab injuria, tueantur? Huic breviter responsum sit, Populo universo negari defensionem, quae juris naturalis est, neque ultionem quae praeter naturam est adversus regem concedi debere. Quapropter si rex non in singulares tantum personas aliquot privatum odium exerceat, sed corpus etiam reipublicae, cujus ipse caput est, i.e. totum populum, vel insignem aliquam ejus partem immani & intoleranda saevitia seu tyrannide divexet; populo, quidem hoc casu resistendi ac tuendi se ab injuria potestas competit, sed tuendi se tantum, non enim in principem invadendi: & restituendae injuriae illatae, non recedendi a debita reverentia propter acceptam injuriam. Praesentem denique impetum propulsandi non vim praeteritam ulciscenti jus habet. Horum enim alterum a natura est, ut vitam scilicet corpusque tueamur. Alterum vero contra naturam, ut inferior de superiori supplicium sumat. Quod itaque populus malum, antequam factum sit, impedire potest, ne fiat, id postquam factum est, in regem authorem sceleris vindicare non potest: populus igitur hoc amplius quam privatus quispiam habet: quod huic, vel ipsis adversariis judicibus, excepto Buchanano, nullum nisi in patientia remedium superest. Cum ille si intolerabilis tyrannus est (modicum enim ferre omnino debet) resistere cum reverentia possit, Barclay contra Monarchom. 1. iii. c. 8.

Als Berthe vraagt of ze ergens trots op is aarzelt ze even en zegt dan dat ze jaren geleden, in dat strafkamertje, waar ze dus inderdaad vaak zat, wat ze eigenlijk prettig vond omdat dan niemand zich met haar bemoeide, dat ze, toen ze nog echt een kind was, probeerde op haar handen te staan met haar voeten tegen de muur, bijna zo lang als het Misearatur duurde en dat dat lukte en dat het haar voor het eerst een ongekend gevoel van vrijheid gaf en dat ze toen, dat ze zich toen afvroeg wat er nog meer kon zijn dat haar vrijheid gaf, maar dat ze dit aan niemand heeft verteld omdat op je handen staan toch niet echt nodig wordt gevonden en ook niet gepast, dus het is iets wat niemand weet. Een wolk haalt het groene veldje licht en de rode toef op het bureau weg. Berthe vraagt of ze het nog steeds kan, op haar handen staan, en ze zegt dat ze het al wel drie jaar niet meer heeft gedaan en dat ze nu ook een stuk langer is geworden en Berthe vraagt of ze het voor haar alleen toch nog een keer wil doen, en hoewel het zo lang geleden is en nog nooit iemand heeft gekeken en het vast niet meer goed gaat als iemand naar haar kijkt terwijl ze het doet, omdat alles altijd het beste gaat als niemand kijkt, zegt ze toe, omdat het voor Berthe is en voor niemand anders, ze wil graag iets doen voor Berthe alleen, iets waar Berthe haar om vraagt, daarom probeet ze het, met haar lijf dat zoveel langer is geworden en haar borsten die last hebben van de zwaartekracht, het gaat vijf keer mis en vijf keer zegt ze: Ziet-u-wel-ik-kan-het-niet-meer-en-vroeger-kon-ik-het en de zesde keer staat ze daar op haar handen met haar voeten tegen een blinde wand aan en zegt ze in één teug: Misereatur-mei-omnipotens-Deus-et-dimittat-mihi-omnia-peccata-mea-liberet-me-ab-omni-malo-salvet-et-confirmet-in-omni-opere-bono-et-perducat-me-ad-vitam-aeternam-amen, waarna ze haar voeten weer naar de vloer laat vallen.

The buzzards over Pondy Woods Achieve the blue tense altitudes Black figments that the woods release, Obscenity in form and grace, Drifting high through the pure sunshine Till the sun in gold decline. (...) By the buzzard roost Big Jim Todd Listened for hoofs on the corduroy road Or for the foul and sucking sound A man's foot makes on the marshy ground. Past midnight, when the moccasin Slipped from the log and, trailing in Its obscured waters, broke The dark algae, one lean bird spoke, (...) "[Big Jim] your breed ain't metaphysical." The buzzard coughed, His words fell In the darkness, mystic and ambrosial. "But we maintain our ancient rite, Eat the gods by day and prophesy by night. We swing against the sky and wait; You seize the hour, more passionate Than strong, and strive with time to die -- With time, the beaked tribe's astute ally. "The Jew-boy died. The Syrian vulture swung Remotely above the cross whereon he hung From dinner-time to supper-time, and all The people gathered there watched him until The lean brown chest no longer stirred, Then idly watched the slow majestic bird That in the last sun above the twilit hill Gleamed for a moment at the height and slid Down the hot wind and in the darkness hid. [Big Jim], regard the circumstance of breath: Non omnis moriar, the poet sayeth." Pedantic, the bird clacked its gray beak, With a Tennessee accent to the classic phrase; Jim understood, and was about to speak, But the buzzard drooped one wing and filmed the eyes. At dawn unto the Sabbath wheat he came, That gave to the dew its faithless yellow flame From kindly loam in recollection of The fires that in the brutal rock one strove. To the ripe wheat he came at dawn. Northward the printed smoke stood quiet above The distant cabins of Squiggtown. A train's far whistle blew and drifted away Coldly; lucid and thin the morning lay Along the farms, and here no sound Touched the sweet earth miraculously stilled. Then down the damp and sudden wood there belled The musical white-throated hound. In pondy Woods in the summer's drouth Lurk fever and the cottonmouth. And buzzards over Pondy Woods Achieve the blue tense altitudes, Drifting high in the pure sunshine Till the sun in gold decline; Then golden and hieratic through The night their eyes burn two by two.

I Composizione: Sic laventur intestina / quid se purget et sentina / mentis omni crimene. / Tunc est digna cura cutis, / quando munus fert salutis / in utroque homine. / Cum servatur sensitiva / virtus et intellectiva, / viget spes solatii.

Non Omnis Moriar. I shall not altogether die. Horace (65 BC-8 BC)

Unlike the modern ideal of systematization in definition, these people celebrated the fact that, as Meister Eckhart once claimed, the unnameable is omni-nameable. Evidently such conflicts were not judged to be problematic but were accepted. Indeed, such fissures help to prevent us from forming an idolatrous image of God, ensuring that none of us can legitimately claim to understand God as God really is.

Non omnis moriar, said Horace’s Odes—I shall not wholly die. Yes, and he was right. As long as people remembered, then death was not complete. Only if there were nobody at all left to remember would death be complete.

Nam in omni adversitate fortunae infelicissimum est genus infortunii, fuisse felicem. For in every ill-turn of fortune the most unhappy sort of unfortunate man is the one who has been happy. Boethius, De Consolatione Philosophiae

You say a name, but its not known to anyone. Either because that man died or because He was a celebrity on the banks of another river. Chiaromonte Miomandre Petőfi Mickiewicz Young generations are not interested in what happened Somewhere else, long ago. And what about the teachers who repeated: Ars longa, vita brevis? Their laurel crowned deceptions will soon be over. Do you still say to yourself: non omnis moriar? O yes, not all of me shall die, there will remain An item in the fourteenth volume of an encyclopedia Next to a hundred Millers and Mickey Mouse. A traveler. Far away. And a low sun. You sit in a ditch and to your bearded mouth You raise a slice of bread cut off with a penknife.

Maybe ET will use math to get our attention—a string of prime numbers, perhaps, or the apparently omnipresent, omni-important Pythagorean theorem. High school trig teachers should rebrand it the alien communication formula. That would’ve kept you from daydreaming in class, right?

It is slightly out of line – there is something else. Is it enlightenment?  And the mind will then paint a picture of what enlightenment is like. Enlightenment is bliss, omni-presence, omni-power, everybody loves you, you love everyone and you walk around in this beautiful pink haze.

Take theory, for example. Most working people think theory, in general, doesn't have much to do with real life. With some theories, that's true. Theory that strays too far from experience becomes abstract - an idealist argument about how many angels can dance on the head of a pin. Theory has to be tested against reality. While carefully studying questions of sex and gender oppression, or the oppression of same-sex or omni-sexual love, we have to be careful not to produce theoretical hothouse flowers that are removed from the social and economic soil in which they are rooted. And since theory is the generalization of experience, we have to ask: Whose experience is it? From whose point of view? The dominant theories in any society reflect the economic interests of those who dominate the society. How can it be otherwise? Who pays an army of spin-doctors and public relations experts to try to mold popular opinion? Who determines educational curricula? Who owns and controls the monopolized television, publishing, and media? The cacophony of theorists hired to defend the status quo is meat to drown out the voices of those who are fighting for change. That's why we must ask everyone who puts forward theory: Which side are you on?

the present domestic conflict and upheaval grows out of the fact that in spite of their common destiny and deeper interests, the people of the United States are being misled by misinformation to insist on exaggerating their ethnic differences.

Omnis mundi creatura quasi liber et pictura nobis est in speculum, nostrae vitae, nostrae sortis, nostri status, nostrae mortis fidele signaculum. Every created thing serves us for a mirror, as a book or a picture does; it is a true indication of our life, our destiny, our state of being, our death.

Mathematics does everything that God does, apart from existing as a supernatural being to whom people kneel and pray. “God” is simply mathematics personified by weak-minded, emotional, irrational human beings. “God” is the anthropomorphization of mathematics. Once you understand this, you can discard traditional religion and spirituality. Ditch your Bible or your Koran. Pick up a book on math and read about the True God! Math is all-powerful, all-seeing, all-knowing, omni-present, eternal, perfect, infallible, ubiquitous, and infinite. If that’s not “God”, what is?!

The biggest deception of our digital age may be the lie that says we can be omni-competent, omni-informed, and omni-present. . . . We must choose our absence, our inability, and our ignorance—and choose wisely. Kevin DeYoung, Crazy Busy

Non omnis moriar. The line, from the end of Horace’s odes, translates as “Not all of me shall die,” which Neukomm obviously meant as a reference to the lasting musical genius of his mentor.

If we accept a Big Bang (although our view would be the same regardless of this premise), we must accept the possibility of multiple Big Bangs anywhere else. We can imagine many more (some even bigger) Big Bangs and “universes” (like our own) than there are galaxies in our Universe. Now, we will name this Universe, containing all others, Omniverse (Omni-Universe) or Macro Universe. Dark energy is the “unmeasurable” energy of the Omniverse (Macro Universe).

The piles of junk that covered the bench had merged, creating one nebulous omni-pile.

wireframes in tools such as Adobe Illustrator, OmniGraffle and Microsoft Visio. Originally, these

To possess and exercise omniscience is to never have sensed temperature, experienced a single emotion, or practiced a single vice. It is to have never been amazed, concerned, analytical, or sympathetic. By exercising omniscience, an Omni-maximum being could not move, be moved, or inspired. Such a being could not interfere, empathise, interject, alter, adjust, or give advice. Ever. Such a being could not devise a plan, hear music, imagine a story, or recognise art or deviancy in any guise, for it could never differentiate creativity from cold reality. Such a being could not know doubt, desire, success, or failure. It could not, therefore, know itself, and if it is incapable of that, then it is incapable of experiencing pleasure.

The New York City skyline looms before us. The skyscrapers stretch high in the sky, as if desperately trying to reach Omnis.

God is omnipresent, yet the attempts to provide him a transit office space are made good in a temple

quality is everywhere,” while the approach to manage [it]is attempted through total quality (TQ) philosophy

Quality Workplace: "a place of wor(k)ship is frequently equated as holy as that of worshiping

Noches que con gran cuidado eliminaste de la desordenada baraja de tu pasado

he never meant to be a murderer. I was fighting for democracy. And I just wasn’t strong enough to fight all those bastards who made the war is what. I didn’t even know who they were. I couldn’t put my hand on them or single them out. They were omnipotent and omnipresent and omniscient and a whole lot of other omni-things, and I should have told them to go to hell and should’ve taken off for some faraway place at the other end of nowhere. But I wanted to fight for my country and for freedom. I was tricked, St. Peter, but the point is, I meant well.

It’s not that. I could manage over a hundred worlds like Verdia if so needed. No, the problem is that I have yet to discover why. Do you ever wonder about why, Alex?” “All the time, Omni,” Alex replied, drifting off to sleep in his leather chair. The significance of a computer asking humanity’s greatest question escaped him, “all the time.”           Chapter

6:12Cumque vidisset Deus terram esse corruptam (omnis quippe caro corruperat viam suam super terram) 6:13dixit ad Noe : Finis universae carnis venit coram me : repleta est terra iniquitate a facie eorum et ego disperdam eos cum terra. 6:14Fac tibi arcam de lignis laevigatis ; mansiunculas in arca facies et bitumine linies intrinsecus et extrinsecus. 6:15Et sic facies eam : trecentorum cubitorum erit longitudo arcae quinquaginta cubitorum latitudo et triginta cubitorum altitudo illius. 6:16Fenestram in arca facies et in cubito consummabis summitatem ejus : ostium autem arcae pones ex latere ; deorsum coenacula et tristega facies in ea. 6:17Ecce ego adducam aquas diluvii super terram ut interficiam omnem carnem in qua spiritus vitae est subter caelum : universa quae in terra sunt consumentur. 6:18Ponamque foedus meum tecum : et ingredieris arcam tu et filii tui uxor tua et uxores filiorum tuorum tecum. 6:19Et ex cunctis animantibus universae carnis bina induces in arcam ut vivant tecum : masculini sexus et feminini. 6:20De volucribus juxta genus suum et de jumentis in genere suo et ex omni reptili terrae secundum genus suum : bina de omnibus ingredientur tecum ut possint vivere.

7:1Dixitque Dominus ad eum : Ingredere tu et omnis domus tua in arcam : te enim vidi justum coram me in generatione hac. 7:2Ex omnibus animantibus mundis tolle septena et septena masculum et feminam : de animantibus vero immundis duo et duo masculum et feminam.

omni:

Post-Racial. Trans–Jim Crow. Epi-Traumatic. Alt-Reparational. Omni-Restitutional. Jingoistic Body-Positive. Sociocultural-Transcendental. Indigenous-Ripostic. Treaty of Fort Laramie–Perpendicular. Meta-Exculpatory. Pan-Political. Uber-Intermutual. MLK-Adjacent. Demi-Arcadian Bucolic. That is the vernacular of the inclusive, hyphenated, beau-American destiny we’re manifesting here!

One possible answer to both questions, according to certain philosophers: all human knowledge is within us, stored in each of our brains, and as we live our lives, our experiences trigger the connections that allow individuals to access these omnipresent (but not omni-accessible) points of knowledge—similar to how individual memories work, but at a tribal or species level.

It contradicted their training. An unreferenced speculation proven incorrect in an Omni’s monograph was a gaffe that could result in termination.

believe in the omni-presence; that is; that the all is in each particle; that entire Nature reappears in every leaf and moss. I believe in Eternity—that is that I can find Greece and Palestine and Italy and England and the Islands—the genius and creative principle of each and all eras in my own mind.10

The omniscient, omnipotent and omnipresent god was carried in an omni vehicle from village to village. It seemed interesting.

The cellularists, it is but fair to recall, regarding the cellule as the simplest anatomical element, believed it proceeded necessarily from a former cellule, omnis cellula e cellula, holding it to be the vital unit, living per se, and regarded an entire organism as the sum of these units. But we now know that that was a deduction from incomplete and superficial observations, for the cellule, a transitory anatomical element, has the microzyma for its anatomical element. It is this which alone possesses all the characters of an anatomical element, living per se, and which must be regarded as the unit of life. It is what I have already stated in the following terms: The microzyma is at the beginning and at the end of every living organization. It is the fundamental anatomical element whereby the cellules, the tissues, the organs, the whole, of an organism are constituted living.

Ethnic differences are the very essence of cultural diversity and national creativity.

the present domestic conflict and upheaval grows out of the fact that in spite of their common destiny and deeper interests, the people of the United States are being misled by misinformation to insist on exaggerating their ethnic differences

a major charge of the argument advanced here is that most social science survey findings are not scientific enough. They violate one’s common everyday breeze-tasting sense of life precisely because they do not meet the standards of validity, reliability, and comprehensiveness that the best scientists have always insisted on

administration involvement with the moral clichés of internationalism (derived from liberal and radical ideas of the nineteen thirties) is probably as great a source of current confusion as anything else

Talk to him the way Midnight talked to you when you found your metabands.” “Midnight strapped me to a table and threatened to torture me if I didn’t tell him who I was.