Archive for November, 2011

My Experiments with Truth!

I mean My Experiments with Truth!

Lie to me, please.

But don’t fucking bother, if you are planning on telling the truth later.

Or worse, letting me find it out by myself.

This is what I want to tell all those people who made me, as a kid, to believe in all those impossibly awesome phantasmagoric supercalifragilisticexpialidocious stuff that aren’t real. God is just one among many. Here’s a touching quote from Karen Armstrong‘s,  A History of God in the Chapter Death of God.

One day the Gestapo hanged a child. Even the SS were disturbed by the prospect of hanging a young boy in front of thousands of spectators. The child who, Wiesel* recalled, had the face of a ‘sad-eyed angel’, was silent, lividly pale and almost calm as he ascended the gallows. Behind Wiesel, one of the other prisoners asked: ‘Where is God? Where is He?’ It took the child half an hour to die, while the prisoners were forced to look him in the face. The same man asked again: ‘Where is God now?’ And Wiesel heard a voice within him make this answer:’Where is He? Here He is – He is hanging here on this gallows.’

But then, I guess as you grow up, there is always a point when your God dies or at least stop existing in the same way you thought it did as a kid. And finally when you’re working in a city with days that just don’t end, all you are left with is some form of classification of good and bad things in life. Maybe I can still call the set of all good things God. But, what’s the point.

*Elie Wiesel, Nobel Prize winner


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Lifey #4

Life, when I am bored, scares the shit out of me!
Now here’s a funny line. (Thank Ninoy for the link).

The most unfair thing about life is the way it ends. I mean, life is tough. It takes up a lot of your time. What do you get at the end of it? A Death! What’s that, a bonus? I think the life cycle is all backwards. You should die first, get it out of the way. Then you live in an old age home. You get kicked out when you’re too young, you get a gold watch, you go to work. You work forty years until you’re young enough to enjoy your retirement. You do drugs, alcohol, you party, you get ready for high school. You go to grade school, you become a kid, you play, you have no responsibilities, you become a little baby, you go back into the womb, you spend your last nine months floating…

…and you finish off as an orgasm.

                                                                                – George Carlin

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Poor service!

Stop looking up at sky. We are alone.

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