It does not so very much matter whether a man eats a grilled tomato or a plain tomato; it does very much matter whether he eats a plain tomato with a grilled mind.

“Chemsex” sounds like it could be steampunk copulation in futuristic fanfiction.

“Anyone stupid enough to expect us to trust him in these circumstances must be trustworthy,” said Didactylos.  “He’d be too stupid to be deceitful.”

He is also the author of The Man Who Accidentally Wore His Cravat to a Gymnasium, a children’s book about fashion and conformity.

There have been psychological studies of the history of ideas: Alexander Herzberg psychoanalyzed philosophy, concluding it is an elaborate form of wishful thinking; in more particularist fashion, J. O. Wisdom applied Freud to Bishop Berkeley, concluding that the source of his immaterialist theory was disgust with matter occasioned by traumatic early toilet training.

This is a bold, brilliant, provocative and puzzling work. It demands a radical shift in standpoint, an almost paradoxical posture in which living systems are described in terms of what lies outside the domain of descriptions.

Oh, for the gift of Rostand’s Cyrano to evoke the vastness of that nose alone as it cleaves the giant screen from east to west, bisects it from north to south. It zigzags across our horizon like a bolt of fleshy lightning; it towers like a ziggurat made of meat.

Much of the band’s music possessed farfisa organ-driven instrumentals, and an enigmatic image that was inspired by the science fiction film The Mysterians.

We spent days in his hilariously vertical house in Islington and in the Provençe among the vinyards to get to his final goal: forty-two ways in which the number 42 is coded into that set of spheres!

At this point, a natural theory would have to be rather baroque, so he favors abandoning naturalness in favor of simplicity.