don't forget to tip. ¶ It's always better to be overdressed than underdressed for any occasion. It will appear that you are going somewhere better later. ¶ Drink champagne. If you have one thing in the refrigerator it should be champagne (And then butter and film). You'll be ready to celebrate at all times. ¶ Expensive sheets. Better than furniture, baby. Porthault turned
Redwood. 299 And in Navidson's house that faceless black i[] many myths incarnate.
"Ce ne peut être que la fin du monde, en avançant," Rimbaud dryly remarked. Suffice it to say, Holloway does not [ ]French for his end. Instead he props up his []i[]eo camera, ignites a magnesium flare, and crosses the room to the far end, where he slumps in the corner to wait. Sometimes he mumbles [ ]hi[]self, sometimes he screams obsenities [ ]to the void: "Bullshit! Bullshit! Just try and get me you motherfucker!" And then as the minutes creak by, his energy drips. "[ ] I don't want to die, this [ ]" words coming out like a sigh-sad and lost. He lights another flare, tosses it toward the camera, then pushes the rifle against his chest and shoots himself. [ ]Jill Ramsey Pelterlock wrote, "In that place, the absence of an end finally becomes his own end." 300
Unfortunately, Holloway is not entire[ ] s[ ]ssful. For exactly two minutes and 28 seconds he groans and twitches in his own blood, until fin[ ] he slip[] into shock and presumably death. 301 Then for 46 seconds the
Unlike Parmenides, Beethoven apparently viewed weight as something positive. Since the German word schwer means "difficult" and "heavy," Beethoven's "difficult resolution" may also be construed as a "heavy" or "weighty resolution." The weighty resolution is at one with the voice of fate ("Es muss sein!); necessity, weight, and value are three concepts inextricably bound; only necessity is heavy, and only what is heavy has value.
Joe: I'm sorry Roy, I just...
Roy: No no no no, principles count, I respect principles. I'm not religious but I like God and God likes me. Baptist, Catholic?
Joe: Mormon.
Roy: Mormon? Oh, delectable. Absolutely. Only in America.
He was Norris Crane. He played cornet with me in school, in Amazing Marching Falcons. He was an altar boy whose skin tore like paper. The nuns said that because of his affliction he didn't have to kneel through Stations but he did anyway and offered it up to the Lord whenever he bled through his pants.
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The fact that this "definition" was actually a refusal to define did not draw comment. The students had no formal training that would have told them his statement was, in a formal sense, completely irrational. If you can't define something, you have no formal rational way of knowing that it exists. Neither can you really tell anyone else what it is. There is, in fact, no formal difference between inability to define and stupidity. When I say, "Quality cannot be defined," I'm really saying formally, "I'm stupid about Quality."