The Horror!
Is it some kind of special daylight savings time spring full moon lately? In the last 24 hours i've seen them play like 7 werewolf movies on tv. None of which was An American Werewolf in London so therefore they all sucked.
It's Eastertime!
I never did really understand the whole anti-Semitic thing about hating Jews because "they killed Christ."
They had to have killed him to meet the prophecy of it happening. If Jesus just tripped and died banging his head on a rock then he wouldn't have been your Messiah, dummy!
Eastertime should be a time when Christians buy gifts for Jews or something.
In summary, if you hate Jews, fine, whatever, knock yourself out, but find a better reason to hate them because that one sucks.
Let's Play Watchmaker With the Cult
I say Jane as the minute hand. I'm not sure why yet.
Nightrious as the second hand. Kinetic. Just that constant movement. Always going around in circles.
six on the dot- obviously the 6.
Frank would be the 1.
Who else?
My Trip to McDonald's
Food I ordered
- (1) Sausage Egg and Cheese Bagel
- (1) Large orange Juice
Twas delicious.
Chartres

Now this has been standing here for centuries. The premiere work of man perhaps in the whole western world. And it's without a signature.
Chartres. A celebration to God's glory and the dignity of man. Though all that's left, most artists seem to feel these days, is man. Naked, poor, forked radish. There aren't any celebrations.
Ours, the scientists keep telling us, is a universe which is disposable. You know, it might just be this one anonymous glory, of all things, this rich stone forest, this epic chant, this gaiety, this grand choiring shout of affirmation which we choose, when all our cities are dust, to stand intact. To mark where we have been. To testify to what we had it in us to accomplish.
Our works in stone, in paint, in print,
are spared, some of them, for a few
decades or a millennium or two, but
everything must finally fall in war,
New Forum Topics
New Reviews
- Douglas Coupland re-imagines storytelling yet again with this spiritual successor to his bestselling debut, Generation X
- Vonnegut haunts us from the grave with another posthumous collection of effortless short fiction.








