Friday, January 22, 2010

I like this (these) 9:

Dear Globlets,


Reality continues to ruin my life.
- Bill Watterson

(It really does! >.<)

Silence propagates itself, and the longer talk has been suspended, the more difficult it is to find anything to say.
- Samuel Johnson

Friday, January 8, 2010

I like this 8:

Dear Globets,

Here is something wonderful:


"When I became convinced that the universe is natural — that all the ghosts and gods are myths, there entered into my brain, into my soul, into every drop of my blood, the sense, the feeling, the joy of freedom.

The walls of my prison crumbled and fell, the dungeon was flooded with light and all the bolts and bars and manacles became dust. I was no longer a servant, a serf or a slave. There was for me no master in all the world — not even infinite space.

I was free:

Free to think, to express my thoughts
Free to live my own ideal
Fee to live for myself and those I loved
Free to use all my faculties, all my senses
Free to spread imagination’s wings
Free to investigate, to guess and dream and hope
Free to judge and determine for myself
Free to reject all ignorant and cruel creeds, all the “inspired” books that savages have produced, and all the barbarous legends of the past

Free from popes and priests
Free from all the “called” and “set apart”
Free from sanctified mistakes and “holy” lies
Free from the winged monsters of the night
Free from devils, ghosts and gods

For the first time I was free. There were no prohibited places in all the realms of thought — no air, no space, where fancy could not spread her painted wings; no claims for my limbs; no lashes for my back; no fires for my flesh; no following another’s steps; no need to bow, or cringe, or crawl, or utter lying words. I was free. I stood erect and fearlessly, joyously, faced all worlds.

And then my heart was filled with gratitude, with thankfulness, and went out in love:

To all the heroes, the thinkers, who gave their lives for the liberty of hand and brain
For the freedom of labor and thought
To those who fell on the fierce fields of war
To those who died in dungeons bound with chains
To those who proudly mounted scaffold’s stairs
To those by fire consumed
To all the wise, the good, the brave of every land, whose thoughts and deeds have given freedom to the sons and daughters of men and women

And then I vowed to grasp the torch that they have held, and hold it high, that light may conquer darkness still."

Robert Ingersoll

Damn the creotard parents...

Dear Globlets,

A good post on Pharyngula today:
link

I am so very grateful for the parents I've got. Even my mostly absent father who doesn't know his own kids... but at least he's not trying to turn us into people we're not.

God damn the creotards.