Xenomanes, Panurge, and Pantagruel's Quest
I rejoice that I am not called upon to express the sentiments with which a tired and hungry man in oil-skins regards logarithms.
Robinson, Walter D. “Navigation without Logarithms.” Science, vol. 39, no. 1016, 1914, pp. 912–914.
What to do about a dirty mind? A mind in the guttural sense of the mud. This was the marching order, for the king had sniffed a pox in the wind.
We launched on D-day, as is written in the Book of Hours. When the H-man cometh and women deliver. T minus ten seconds.
She posed as the model for the figurehead of my ship in the year of our lord, I got to scratch my head.
Have you put it all together yet?
Who was scuba diving in a Hindu temple when Edgar Rice Burrows poked to the surface? She was deeply into the Maharishi, if we can say so without irony.
And the phase of the moon at the time of the incident, taking into account the third degree of precession but ignoring relativistic effects?
Evidence points to a singular culprit orbiting a culpable singularity. Of which there are multitudes.
Unless you have something profound to say, you should just say it. If you have something profound, register the copyright and collect the residuals before you utter a word. Once bitten, twice shy.
And the Ubuntu left a bad taste. It was the crapshoot for the end of time. Snake eyes. The widow maker blousing in the upper gonads.
When Saint Jane went undercover as a playboy bunny. Just as the mad scientist was about to strike Sir Galahad arrived with his carbuncle.
The night the Bedouins came to stay and the rolling stone gathered moss.
Then there was time like the present and crying over spilt milk came into use.
Then white man spoke with unforked tongue, the only good Indian was a live Indian, and a bird in the hand was worth three in the bush.
Then better red than dead and my country unless it’s wrong.
So starve a cold and feed a fever.
We are pleased to report that global warming has been delayed temporarily due to the recent global thermonuclear war.
Nous sommes heureux d’annoncer que le réchauffement climatique a été temporairement retardé en raison de la récente guerre thermonucléaire mondiale.
The big powers had larger-than-disclosed arsenals, and the launch systems, in some cases over 50 years old, worked as planned. Regional players showed a surprising capability to rain mayhem in their neighbourhood.
Toutes les grandes puissances avaient des arsenaux plus importants que ceux divulgués, et les acteurs régionaux ont montré une capacité surprenante.
By day, she studies under some of the greatest grand masters of the debatable world. By night she sells bivalves by the seashore. Her name? Molly Malone.
And so we’ve come to story that cannot not be told. Though it’s true to the bone, and then some, still it’s paid a peanut a word and deducted by the company store. Some of the greatest minds of all time thrived on peanuts. On this we have chapter 11 of Plutarch’s “The Face in the Moon,” and the examples of Jubilation T. Cornpone, Aloysius Cappone, and Booker T.
Aghast at his fetid overtones, the matron suffered a sucking chest wound. He had the boys soften her up before he spoke his piece. His proposition was, her firstborn for a magic bean. He was the greatest prestidigitator that ever wasn’t. The most least square the cosmic equation.
He snickered at the crowd of philosophers who waste their time on god when they could be building castles in the sand. He gaped at the gypsy woman suspected of infiltrating the ranks.
You might think the old ways are breaking down, yet they may still come into action. Like the tide of the moon, is not pulling on the waters, but the waters follow it. Christy comes clean.
By John Donne
GO and catch a falling star,
Get with child a mandrake root,
Tell me where all past years are,
Or who cleft the devil’s foot,
Teach me to hear mermaids singing,
Or to keep off envy’s stinging,
And find
What wind
Serves to advance an honest mind.
If thou be’st born to strange sights,
Things invisible to see,
Ride ten thousand days and nights,
Till age snow white hairs on thee,
Thou, when thou return’st, wilt tell me,
All strange wonders that befell thee,
And swear,
No where
Lives a woman true and fair.
If thou find’st one, let me know,
Such a pilgrimage were sweet;
Yet do not, I would not go,
Though at next door we might meet,
Though she were true, when you met her,
And last, till you write your letter,
Yet she
Will be
False, ere I come, to two, or three.
Harry Nape was born this day in the year of our Lord. He made his fortune in barbers’ shears. His latter years were consumed by his mania to create a robotic barber. His ideas were based on vacuum cleaner technology. Testing on a volunteer sample in Saudia Arabia showed some shortcomings. After consulting the standard texts on phrenology, Nape developed the model that we know today.