Sport is an existential crisis 17 Sep 2008 What’s not to like about that? [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y1feEqgRZQI&hl=en&fs=1] Humor
Humor Graphical Philosophy 4 Jul 20114 Jul 2011 Wittgenstein wrote: Where two principles really do meet which cannot be reconciled with one another, then each man declares the other a fool and heretic. [On Certainty §611] Or, in a GIF: From Patton’s Argument Clinic. I think there’s a need for the entire corpus of modern philosophy to be done… Read More
Thank you. Quite valuable information. For the rest of the season, I am betting the ‘under’ on all Jacksonville games.
Thank you. Quite valuable information. For the rest of the season, I am betting the ‘under’ on all Jacksonville games.
Nothing concentrates the mind like imminent unemployment. Life may be a cosmic accident, but life without food and shelter is much worse… Shouldn’t you be finished with that nail by now?
Nothing concentrates the mind like imminent unemployment. Life may be a cosmic accident, but life without food and shelter is much worse… Shouldn’t you be finished with that nail by now?
Nothing concentrates the mind like imminent unemployment. Life may be a cosmic accident, but life without food and shelter is much worse… Shouldn’t you be finished with that nail by now?
Same thing happened to me years ago. I had a sixteen-penny nail half sunk in a two-by-four when the uselessness of it all struck me. Sure, I could finish framing the house and soon some fine young family would move in, bringing their dreams along with the china and leatherette pit group. But they would only see most of their dreams evaporate and the sheer effort required to save their remaining hopes would render a grim and gritty kind of satisfaction instead of the joy they had expected. The Foreman, a wise man, took note of my dilemma and offered the most inspired counsel I’ve ever heard. He threatened to fire me if I kept daydreaming. And I’m still driving that damned nail.
Same thing happened to me years ago. I had a sixteen-penny nail half sunk in a two-by-four when the uselessness of it all struck me. Sure, I could finish framing the house and soon some fine young family would move in, bringing their dreams along with the china and leatherette pit group. But they would only see most of their dreams evaporate and the sheer effort required to save their remaining hopes would render a grim and gritty kind of satisfaction instead of the joy they had expected. The Foreman, a wise man, took note of my dilemma and offered the most inspired counsel I’ve ever heard. He threatened to fire me if I kept daydreaming. And I’m still driving that damned nail.