February 2012
20 posts
Subtly subsistence is suicide.
So says all the magazine covers.
pinkphilosopher asked: That's just cruel! I'm hitting my keys extra hard and it's just not satisfactory at all. Why would you taunt me so?!
How To Tell If There Is A Raptor In Your House:
The first sure sign that you have a raptor living in your house is the fucking raptor - living in your house.
Another good sign is giant scratch marks on your face.
And men saying ‘Clever girl…’ often.
Like A Loquacious Ninja
England is a synecdoche.
You've got standards, girl. What the hell are you...
I over step my boundaries til I trip over my...
It's dawned on me...
That if I didn’t force myself to interact with other members of my species, I would become a deranged hermit and my only friends would be squirrells or some shit.
I just spent the entire time I was making lunch, making stupid sound effects and walking around my kitchen like some sort of low-budget Monty Python sketch.
Seriously. I’m one weekend of lonliness away from talking to lamp...
Pathologically incapable of taking care of myself.
I shit you not. I can go an entire day, vegging out in front of the computer, or X-box, and never once eat.
Cynics In Love
To get two cynics to fall in love is nigh on miraculous. But it happened.
Dear Breakfast
OM NOM NOM
Love,
- Fenton
Dear Toilet Seat
Thank you for being freezing cold every morning when I need to poop.
Sarcastic Love,
- Fenton
January 2012
32 posts
Dear World
I don’t understand you.
At all.
Love,
- Fenton.
Dear People Who Get Their Fingers Tattooed
Stop it.
Love,
- Fenton
P.S. That’s goes for people who get upside down text on their wrists in tiny spider-scrawl fonts saying things like ‘faith’ and ‘hope’
Why did the chicken cross the road?
Plato: For the greater good.
Karl Marx: It was a historical inevitability.
Machiavelli: So that its subjects will view it with admiration, as a chicken which has the daring and courage to boldly cross the road, but also with fear, for whom among them has the strength to contend with such a paragon of avian virtue? In such a manner is the princely chicken's dominion maintained.
Hippocrates: Because of an excess of light pink gooey stuff in its pancreas.
Jacques Derrida: Any number of contending discourses may be discovered within the act of the chicken crossing the road, and each interpretation is equally valid as the authorial intent can never be discerned, because structuralism is DEAD, DAMMIT, DEAD!
Thomas de Torquemada: Give me ten minutes with the chicken and I'll find out.
Timothy Leary: Because that's the only kind of trip the Establishment would let it take.
Douglas Adams: Forty-two.
Nietzsche: Because if you gaze too long across the Road, the Road gazes also across you.
Oliver North: National Security was at stake.
B.F. Skinner: Because the external influences which had pervaded its sensorium from birth had caused it to develop in such a fashion that it would tend to cross roads, even while believing these actions to be of its own free will.
Carl Jung: The confluence of events in the cultural gestalt necessitated that individual chickens cross roads at this historical juncture, and therefore synchronicitously brought such occurrences into being.
Jean-Paul Sartre: In order to act in good faith and be true to itself, the chicken found it necessary to cross the road.
Ludwig Wittgenstein: The possibility of "crossing" was encoded into the objects "chicken" and "road", and circumstances came into being which caused the actualization of this potential occurrence.
Albert Einstein: Whether the chicken crossed the road or the road crossed the chicken depends upon your frame of reference.
Aristotle: To actualize its potential.
Buddha: If you ask this question, you deny your own chicken-nature.
Howard Cosell: It may very well have been one of the most astonishing events to grace the annals of history. An historic, unprecedented avian biped with the temerity to attempt such an herculean achievement formerly relegated to homo sapien pedestrians is truly a remarkable occurence.
Salvador Dali: The Fish.
Darwin: It was the logical next step after coming down from the trees.
Emily Dickinson: Because it could not stop for death.
Epicurus: For fun.
Ralph Waldo Emerson: It didn't cross the road; it transcended it.
Johann von Goethe: The eternal hen-principle made it do it.
Ernest Hemingway: To die. In the rain.
Werner Heisenberg: We are not sure which side of the road the chicken was on, but it was moving very fast.
David Hume: Out of custom and habit.
Jack Nicholson: 'Cause it [censored] wanted to. That's the [censored] reason.
Pyrrho the Skeptic: What road?
Ronald Reagan: I forget.
John Sununu: The Air Force was only too happy to provide the transportation, so quite understandably the chicken availed himself of the opportunity.
The Sphinx: You tell me.
Mr. T.: If you saw me coming you'd cross the road too!
Henry David Thoreau: To live deliberately ... and suck all the marrow out of life.
Mark Twain: The news of its crossing has been greatly exaggerated.
Molly Yard: It was a hen!
Zeno of Elea: To prove it could never reach the other side.
Chaucer: So priketh hem nature in hir corages.
Wordsworth: To wander lonely as a cloud.
The Godfather: I didn't want its mother to see it like that.
Keats: Philosophy will clip a chicken's wings.
Blake: To see heaven in a wild fowl.
Othello: Jealousy.
Dr. Johnson: Sir, had you known the Chicken for as long as I have, you would not so readily enquire, but feel rather the Need to resist such a public Display of your own lamentable and incorrigible Ignorance.
Mrs. Thatcher: This chicken's not for turning.
Supreme Soviet: There has never been a chicken in this photograph.
Oscar Wilde: Why, indeed? One's social engagements whilst in town ought never expose one to such barbarous inconvenience - although, perhaps, if one must cross a road, one may do far worse than to cross it as the chicken in question.
Kafka: Hardly the most urgent enquiry to make of a low-grade insurance clerk who woke up that morning as a hen.
Swift: It is, of course, inevitable that such a loathsome, filth-ridden and degraded creature as Man should assume to question the actions of one in all respects his superior.
Macbeth: To have turned back were as tedious as to go o'er.
Whitehead: Clearly, having fallen victim to the fallacy of misplaced concreteness.
Freud: An die andere Seite zu kommen. (Much laughter.)
Hamlet: That is not the question.
Donne: It crosseth for thee.
Pope: It was mimicking my Lord Hervey.
Constable: To get a better view.
Yeats: She was following the Faeries that sang to her to come away with them from the dull, bucolic comfort of the farmyard to the waters and the wild.
Shelley: 'Tis a metaphor for the pursuits of man: though 'twas deemed an extraordinary occurrence at the time, still it brought little to bear on the great scheme of time and history, and was ultimately fruitless and forgotten.
Tolkien: Chickens are respectable folk, and well thought of. They never go on any adventures or do anything unexpected. One fine spring day, as the chicken wandered contentedly around the farmyard, clucking and pecking and enjoying herself immensely, there appeared a Wizard and thirteen Dwarves who were in need of a chicken to share in their adventure. Reluctantly she joined their party, and with them crossed the road into the great Unknown, muttering about how rude the Dwarves were to take her away on such short notice, without even giving her time to brush her feathers or fetch her hat.
“LESS SENSE.
MORE BEARD.”
New Year, New... Clichés.
But it does seem to be going well so far.
Brief update:
Xmas was good. The girlfriend bought me an X-box. With Kinect. So we all got drunk and made fools of ourselves in my living room Xmas evening. Twas rather fun. And the present I bought her (apart from ones I chose off a list she gave me =P) was so well chosen, it made her tearfully happy. [Cos I’m awesome like that.]
New Year was...
Self?
You are nothing more than a complex biological machine. You share 50% of your genes with a banana, 98% with a monkey. Essentially, you are almost identical with the girl-next-door. Everything you have ever said has been said before. Everything you have ever thought has been thought before.
There is no originality.
There is no identity.
So tell me again - Who are you?
“Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter.”
– Yoda
Nobody ever sends me messages on here.
Sad face.
</Attention Seeking Post>
“Last night, I had a pleasant nightmare.”
“‘I am good without God, intelligent without design, and perfectly capable...”
– http://cerbear.tumblr.com/
