For the longest time, I've had a vague but persistent compulsion to make a list of every book I've ever read. It was with me as an English Lit. undergraduate, and it continued throughout graduate school for Library and Information Science. Go figure.
A list of predictions made by Clay Shirky about Citizendium
A brief glossary of useful phrases for describing recurring cliches in fiction from an audience perspective. Cliches, plot devices, etc.
/ In his unfathomable wisdom, the glorious Emporer has / decreed that all citizens are to be implanted with / a brain chip to aid them in fulfilling their duties / in the glorious empire.
“Why did it take you so long to wash your bowl?” Joshu asked.
“This is not the same bowl,” replied the student.
At that moment, Joshu attained enlightenment.
“Consequently, computer people try to solve every problem by throwing robots at it.”
The belief of the cult that has grown up around him is that he transcended life, just as he did the other limitations of the body. They’re waiting for him to come back and explain how he did it, maybe tell us how much it will cost.
We practiced sitting in our Faraday cages for several minutes, not moving, not even speaking, and when somebody would cough or clear their throat, the Sergeant said “No,” and shook his head. You couldn’t make even the slightest sound.
You are nothing more than a leprous attic-dweller, and may you stay that way until you are pulled down to the sauciest depths of hell, for I would not give a farthing to spare your stenchy soul from the hungriest hands in Hades, you bottle-beaked scuff-rug.
For a couple of years there, you could walk down to Sears and buy a working Laslow motor right off the shelf.
Some people who were supposed to have died in the jungle made it out alive, and some people who were supposed to be alive never made it out of the jungle.
We present to you Leviathan: The Musical, a brilliant stage adaptation of the true story of Thomas Hobbes…
He asked what I meant by that, and I told him what had happened. He threw his arms up in disgust.
“Why are you down here making a blog entry?” He said.
We were above the tree line, now, where life was cheap and everything was in conspiracy.
One day, Joshu received one of Hofuku’s disciples and asked him, “How does your master instruct you?”
Little is known about the area, however scientists have successfully verified that, somewhat unexpectedly, it contains unusually high levels of ghosts and monsters.
One impolite thing that time travelers do a lot is press the button on their belt which activates the time machine.
For this tutorial, Im going to take a sentence from one of my blog posts, and take you step-by-step through the different stages I went through to write it.
The host takes two twenties and a ten from his wallet, folds it neatly, and puts it in Mommy’s hand, closing her fingers around it.
Some more Snipe Master fan art. This one is excellent, because it illustrates one of the most often-neglected aspects of sniping: sniping while on the move.
By now, your companion will have disappeared. You will not see him again until the living meet the dead at last and for all of time.
One person broke down, and everybody behind him stopped, and then, when they least expected it, they were covered by an avalanche.
This morning I went out to cut a path to the garage, but I couldn’t find the snow shovel, because it was buried under the snow.
This scared them, and I think that’s good, because if they are scared of dead people, they are more likely to get into the spirit of appeasing them with luminary candles.
“You can tell a lot about a person based on their shoes. It’s true.”
“What can you tell about me from my shoes?”
“Let me see them.”
“I do not understand why people are born these days with nothing in their throats. Is it the same in England now as well?”
“You’re Basilio Domenico,” I exclaimed. Some of the people walking by turned to look at me, not because the name meant anything to them, but because I had almost shouted the words.
The veterans, the old-time players, said something that had always stuck in my mind: “You whack a thousand moles, one time the mole whacks you back.”
“I am sorry I could not give you your revolution, Generalisimo,” I said, staring at the branches and the trunk of a tree.
The reason I haven’t been updating frequently is that I’ve been busy developing a new educational software package for children. I love children.
“So, Adam, if you could have dinner with any five people, living or dead, who would they be?”
Claudio suggested I get some barbed wire around my bicep, but I explain to him about how barbed wire made it easy to fence off large sections of grassland, and made the cowboy way of life obsolete.
I have decided that I will write my memoir in short installments, and that I will post them here, to whet the public’s appetite while I wait for a publisher to sign me
The guitar was made out of an advanced synthetic polymer that felt almost exactly like the fine mahogany used in a Gibson SG.
I felt sure that if anybody could resolve the question of whether Cherif’s assumptions about the cardiovascular system were based on reason or on childish naivety, it would be my old buddy Gdel.
“One good line I have so far is when Tigger says, ‘Yeah, all of us went a little crazy… but most of all Winnie the Pooh.”
During this time he was involved in many criminal deeds as part of The Iron Maiden’s army of super-powered mind slaves, including the infamous theft of the president’s memory and subsequent high-stakes auction
People use similes like that all the time, but what happens when one of them actually comes true?
With his calligraphy brush on a sheet of paper the master Kosen drew the words “The First Principle”, which are carved over the gate of the Oaku Temple in Kyoto.
I got a call from him one day, about a week after the ‘02 race.
“Lance, great to hear from you,” I said.
“Four times, baby!” he said.
“A 4-peat,” I mumbled, humoring him.
Sometimes, when I’m lucid, I ask myself, “what specific steps can I take to attract weirdos and perverts to my blog?”
I put the ram in the rama-lama-ding-dong, then all of a sudden I pulled it out and held it above my head, screaming that I would destroy it if all my demands were not met.
Look for the yellow container with the picture of the angry drunk shaking his fist in impotent rage.
The futurist and the historian serve opposite but in many ways complementary roles, the work of one aiding in the work of the other.
Ultimately there is only one way to talk about the trucking industry, and that is from the heart, with conviction and absolute unflagging earnestness.
“When you milk the cow yourself you have so much more control. You go to a store, you’ve basically got whatever milk the store wants you to buy. I don’t want the store to tell me what milk I drink.”
When Pizza Hut called me up to ask my advice about how to revolutionize the pizza industry, I told them it was too late, they’d taken the medium as far as it could go.
A lot of my friends actually call me “Grizzly Adam”, since my name is Adam and I have that sort of unspoken brotherhood with all of God’s manifold creations.
Cindy Fielding was a good reporter, maybe even the best, but sometimes her job got her into trouble.
The sound of hoofbeats is approaching. They are coming for him. The door to the apartment begins to splinter, a horn protrudes through the wood. He shrugs.
The master said, “when you have counted every grain of sand in this garden, at that moment you will attain enlightenment.”
The foreign man hissed like the lowest note on an oboe, as a column of golden light engulfed him, and shined through him as it does through a stained-glass picture of Saint George.
The five most renowned economists in Europe lounged in deep chairs at the most exclusive gentlemen’s club on St. James Street, where all the affairs of the world were decided.
This is pretty much exactly the premise of the dream sequence in Target of Death, except instead of a glass elevator in a fancy hotel you’ve got Colin Farrell trapped in a phone booth talking on the telephone.
Notice the lack of meter, inattention to syllables, and over all poor construction that marked me—even then!—as a literary badboy.
Looking back, I think the day that sparrow died was the day I stopped being a boy, and started becoming a man.
The pirate who had diagnosed the captain set his hammer down on a plank of wood. He wiped the sweat off his brow and drank from a flask of rum he had hidden away.
“Where are you going, Lou?”
“To stop a killer,” I yelled back over my shoulder.
The scholarly debate surrounding the Bard of Avon was given fuel by the recent discovery of a so-called 39th play, which fits in none of the three canonical categories.
“Hello Kareem,” he said. Kareem was named after a basketball player.
“Greetings, human. I have finished compacting these rocks.”
The next day at breakfast she asked him again what he’d been doing going out for walks at midnight. He said, “Can’t a man have a few secrets?”
“Perhaps it is best that I am not a senator of this state, since my only goal would be to pass a law that certain people I do not like would be forced to gather in a public square and dance for my amusement until their hearts explode,” explained The Colonel, staring dreamily across the river.
The Great Karzini could feel the sweat beading up on his forehead. He reached into his pocket for a handkerchief, but accidentally pulled out half a dozen brightly colored silk bandannas that had been knotted together.
Then I heard the spade hit something solid and the man in the forest stepped into view
And he was saying, “This is like an Elven sword, this is like an Elven sword.” Finally I just said, “Boromir… calm down, dude.”
“That is precisely why I have gathered you all here, Captain Pendleton! I intend to prove that my friend Sir Humphrey could not possibly have committed the crime!”
“Nothing is consumed, it is merely redistributed,” said the stranger, as if correcting me.
If there’s one thing I love, it’s shredding some fine powder with my extreme gang (shout outs!) and basically just chillin and having a good time being 18-25 years old.
The manager at Fred Meyer takes out a pen and poises his hand to write. “Where do you see yourself in five years?” he asks.
When they dug us out later, we all told the same story about how the janitor had killed him, for we were all in it together now.
They were somewhere between the Rhine and Rhone, on the Furka-Oberalp railway, and the train clicked on steadily into the night.
Professor Laslow teams up with his arch-nemesis Finnegan Helm to save London from zombies.
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