Warning: file_get_contents(/home/www/settings/mirror_forum_db_enable_sql): failed to open stream: No such file or directory in /var/www/html/content/Forum/functions.php on line 8
âDespite the dozens of ravishing creatures begging to be part of his life, Swift had lived alone since his wife... was incinerated several years before, when the microwave went berserk during a thunderstorm.â
Bill Smith: The first rule is: Never sleep with anyone who's crazier than you are. I don't know if you're crazier, but you're right up there on the top 10 of my weird list, lady.
Location: Blinding You With Library Science! Gender:
Posted:
Apr 8, 2019 - 1:58pm
Mac: Where's the door here? Gordon: There is no door. Just knock on the window. Mac: How do you do business with a man who has no door? Victor: The ethics are just the same. - Local Hero (1983)
Y'know what I was thinking about today? I was thinking 'bout those street gangs they had down in Los Angeles, those Crips and those Bloods? I was thinking about that buncha new laws they came up with, in the 1980's I think it was, to combat those street-gangs, those Crips and those Bloods. And, if I remember rightly, the gist of what those new laws were saying was if you join one of these gangs, and you're running with 'em, and down the block one night, unbeknownst to you, one of your fellow Crips, or your fellow Bloods, shoot up a place, or stab a guy, well then, even though you didn't know nothing about it, and even though you may've just been standing on a streetcorner minding your own business, what these new laws said was you're still culpable. You're still culpable, by the very act of joining those Crips, or those Bloods, in the first place. Which got me thinking, Father, that whole type of situation is kinda like your Church boys, ain't it? You've got your colors, you've got your clubhouse, you're, for want of a better word, a gang. And if you're upstairs smoking a pipe and reading a bible while one of your fellow gang members is downstairs fucking an altar boy then, Father, just like those Crips, and just like those Bloods, you're culpable. Cos you joined the gang, man. And I don't care if you never did shit or you never saw shit or you never heard shit. You joined the gang. You're culpable. And when a person is culpable to altar-boy-fucking, or any kinda boy-fucking, I know you guys didn't really narrow that down, then they kinda forfeit the right to come into my house and say anything about me, or my life, or my daughter, or my billboards. So, why don't you just finish your tea there, Father, and get the fuck outta my kitchen.
~Mildres Hayes, Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri
I was just thinking that I want to watch that again.
Y'know what I was thinking about today? I was thinking 'bout those street gangs they had down in Los Angeles, those Crips and those Bloods? I was thinking about that buncha new laws they came up with, in the 1980's I think it was, to combat those street-gangs, those Crips and those Bloods. And, if I remember rightly, the gist of what those new laws were saying was if you join one of these gangs, and you're running with 'em, and down the block one night, unbeknownst to you, one of your fellow Crips, or your fellow Bloods, shoot up a place, or stab a guy, well then, even though you didn't know nothing about it, and even though you may've just been standing on a streetcorner minding your own business, what these new laws said was you're still culpable. You're still culpable, by the very act of joining those Crips, or those Bloods, in the first place. Which got me thinking, Father, that whole type of situation is kinda like your Church boys, ain't it? You've got your colors, you've got your clubhouse, you're, for want of a better word, a gang. And if you're upstairs smoking a pipe and reading a bible while one of your fellow gang members is downstairs fucking an altar boy then, Father, just like those Crips, and just like those Bloods, you're culpable. Cos you joined the gang, man. And I don't care if you never did shit or you never saw shit or you never heard shit. You joined the gang. You're culpable. And when a person is culpable to altar-boy-fucking, or any kinda boy-fucking, I know you guys didn't really narrow that down, then they kinda forfeit the right to come into my house and say anything about me, or my life, or my daughter, or my billboards. So, why don't you just finish your tea there, Father, and get the fuck outta my kitchen.
~Mildres Hayes, Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri
A fellow will remember a lot of things you wouldn't think he'd remember. You take me. One day, back in 1896, I was crossing over to Jersey on the ferry, and as we pulled out, there was another ferry pulling in, and on it there was a girl waiting to get off. A white dress she had on. She was carrying a white parasol. I only saw her for one second. She didn't see me at all, but I'll bet a month hasn't gone by since that I haven't thought of that girl.
“‘Teacher: “What is the first article of the new American Constitution?’ Student: ‘That all men are not created equal. It’s the responsibility of the government to render them so.’ "Harrison Bergeron" by Kurt Vonnegut
