She brings the incandescent glass tube close to the light and, drawing together her lovely sealskin eyebrows – which Tanya has inherited – she looks for a long time … and then without saying anything she unhurriedly shakes the thermometer and slips it back into its case, looking at me as if not quite recognizing me, while my father rides his horse at a walk across a vernal plain all blue with irises; let us describe also the delirious state in which one feels huge numbers grow, inflating one’s brain, accompanied by someone’s incessant patter quite unrelated to you, as if in the dark garden adjoining the madhouse of the book-of-sums several of its characters, half out (or more precisely, fifty-seven one-hundred-and-elevenths out) of their terrible world of increasing interests, appeared in their stock parts of apple-woman, four ditchdiggers and a Certain Person who has bequeathed his children a caravan of fractions, and chatted, to the accompaniment of the nocturnal sough of trees, about something extremely domestic and silly, but therefore all the more awful, all the more doomed to turn into those very numbers, into that mathematical universe expanding endlessly (an expansion which for me sheds an odd light on the macrocosmic theories of today’s physicists).
“What is America?” Heimbach says as he pulls into a Waffle House on the outskirts of Cincinnati to pick up Tony and Scott, friends of his who are also party members. The members of the Traditional Workers Party often meet at the Waffle House, he explains, because of their love of brinner, or breakfast food for dinner.
“Fascists love brinner,” says Heimbach, who then goes on to detail the answer to his question.
Texas Twist (Texas Montgomery Mavericks, #4) by Cynthia D'Alba is a sizzling yeehaw cowboy lovin’ novel.
When others were horrified by Volokh’s position, saying they thought it would reduce their humanity to torture and kill someone, Volokh was utterly unmoved, saying “mere appeals to my humanity just don’t do much for me.” Volokh said he found such appeals “unpersuasive,” preferring the “laudable human impulse to avenge.”
He has authored many books, and his work has been acknowledged.
I’m not entirely sure what you mean by that, Wikipedia
The Carer. He is a do-er. He is the Queen-maker. He takes care of the whole lot. He can even rotate his head 270 degree to watch out for any danger and can eat up to 1000 mice a year!
In his classic book How to Win Friends and Influence People, [Dale] Carnegie repeatedly urged readers to avoid direct confrontations. Instead he advised people to “begin in a friendly way,” to “smile,” to “be a good listener,” and to “never say ‘you’re wrong.’ “
(Haidt, The Righteous Mind)
I’m sure you can all fill in the reference that immediately popped into my mind upon reading this
You know, you raise an interesting point there, Brayden. I’ll tell you what, why don’t you invite one of your ISIS pals around the house and we’ll see how much he likes it when I slash his guts out with the turkey knife. You think that’s what he wants? They want us to crush them? Tell me something, how did you feel when your Little League team got mercy-ruled by those country boys in the district finals? Is that what youwanted? Were you just phoning it in for the “participant” trophy? Is that why you’re too afraid to shave that pathetic beard? Because that’s what ISIS wants? Am I othering you right now? Did I carpet bomb your safe space? Maybe, just maybe, what ISIS really wants is a world with fewer people like me, who’ve looked evil in the eye and given a few titty-twisters in our day, and more people like the skinny jean cycle jockeys you pal around with at Yale, with your ska music and your websites and “fantasy” sports. Maybe what ISIS wants is your dental floss forearms that can barely hold a selfie stick, much less a BAR. Do those Vox cards have a talking point for that? Oh, really? Because I was under the impression that in A-m-e-r-i-c-a, the proper way to usher in the holiday season is with a stiff Rusty Nail, not a “dialogue” about small pox and genocide, unless you want to share your feelings about the mass murder ISIS wants to bring down on your ass? Is that a topic we can let marinate? I bet you had to print out the lyrics to our national anthem when you went to sing it in the quad the night we elected President Hopey Change. No, you listen. You listen, Brayden. When’s the last time you got a blister on those hands? Don’t mention the time you tried eating the vegan hotdog at the WNBA game you made me take you to out of “fairness.” You didn’t even watch the game. You just tweeted about sexism on your iPad. You know, that little computer screen made by Apple, which last I checked was a corporation, Mr. Occupy. Don’t deny it, I was watching you. You only looked up when Taylor Swift came over the PA system. How do you think that made Brittney Griner feel? Remind me: What’s the name of the union for people who Twitter all day from an air conditioned office? Because I don’t think “amateur food photographer” counts as a real job.
Eternity is another aspect which annihilationists fail to fully comprehend.
If you want dragons, you can have dragons.