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Random writing and poetry, musings and observations.
The BBC Horizon channel recently aired UK MP Michael Portillo’s attempts to find a humane solution to execution (see it here).
I’m a fan of the BBC world service radio because it keeps me up to date on happenings around the world while I can do other things like cleaning up my room.
University of Southern California physics professor Itzhak Bars has suggested (in somewhat dated news) what the Telegraph called a “heretical idea”: the possibility that there is an additional dimension to time.
According to Bars, the world we see around us is merely a “shadow” of a six-dimensional world.
The only reason Sarah Palin will get anywhere in this campaign (or quite possibly become the next VP) is because the people who will likely vote for her don’t care a single ounce about the blunders she’s made.
In the perennial question of
Which came first, the chicken or the egg?,
no one asks
Which came first, the egg or the chicken?
Unfortunately, from a linguistic standpoint you can’t argue that because of the order of words, the chicken comes first, because that would only be valid if we were to ask “which comes first”, which abstracts from the inquiry about the past.
Have you ever said “wife and husband”?
The above was aggregated from the word content in my blog feed.
As I sat there upon the bleachers
Alone against the unforgiving night
I rested my arms against the cold cold steel
To block the city’s light
Like apartment windows far above
The stars began to glow
I let my gaze wander east and west
I searched high and low
And then suddenly without warn
It streaked across the sky
Like someone who, with a sun-shined marble
Flicked it hard and high
I dug my hands deep and fast
Into my dirty jeans
I wasn’t sure from where it came
Or what it actually means
But of one thing I was sure
As I wished upon that star
That I would like to be with her
All places near and far
My wish was that she would be mine
In times of joy and pain
So that I could also be her shelter
Come storm or thunderous rain
So that someday at some point in time
We would be together in the night
Our arms together against the cold cold steel
Blocking the city’s light
Dear advertisers of the world
I hope you realize that you waste pretty much every penny trying to get my attention.
Due to the sudden influx of webloggers wanting to be part of International Weblogger’s Day, anything I write between today and the 14th will be complete and utter gibberish.
A bit obsessed with the wonders of online publishing, I’ve gone ahead and created an e-book with the best of my poems and short stories, entitled Silent Symbolism.