Given infinite time, anything is possible to create; for creation is the act of assembling components, and components are finite. Memory is thus an act of creation; for to remember is to recall existing components. Things forgotten are not permenantly lost, but merely await the rediscovery of their order, confirmed by recognition. But even were time not unlimited, the mind is not perfect. Recognition fades.

I am fortunate for the memories that I have archived, scrawled, typed, in basement storage. Part of me feels that I can never die until the archive is complete. The other part of me feels that completion is only necessary so long as I am alive.

Shoplifting is an extreme activity. Either it is done to the expensive because the cost is too significant, or to the cheap because the cost is insignificant.

Rickrolling jumps the shark on the Macy's Day parade.

Fun will be taken away capriciously. Personal preferences require justification. Sharing is bad. I learned from an early age the penalty of judgmentalism; at a late age that empathy is an acquired skill. The ability to understand how another feels is a closely guarded secret, from which comes the necessity of deceit. For lies are born from both the repeated rationalizations and from the omissions that become learned as necessary.

Memories are composed of thoughts and of sensations. Actual events are replaced by the lessons of what will be done differently next time. I remember how I felt, what I thought. That is what happened.

Can give recompense in food, money, and/or truth.

Quantum of Solace, more a continuation than a sequel, requires comparison to a predecessor. Rather than worry about the dichotomy, it chooses to overwhelming follow the patterns set by Casino Royale. The world it takes place in features morality is reflected by the lack of perfect rejoinders and smooth characters, and poise. The evolution of identity was worth ducking out of work early to see.

“When the other person not only makes you feel insecure but actually seems to want to destroy you, it's obviously the end. The Quantum of Solace stands at zero. You've got to get away to save yourself."

First rule about being a guy: don’t neglect the needs of the girl you’re in bed with.

Always have an exit strategy: flee the state, call in a favor, give a fake name, coopt the innocent. Lay and lie: put things in place.

You seriously believed me? Wow. You believed the we’re-friends-again part too, didn’t you.

Friends will be there when you’re not; invite you to their party; leave their own party to pick you up when stranded; loan you 2 boxers for a brief visit; shake your hand and pull you out; thank you with a kiss, a pineapple, and here’s my phone number; and don’t say hurtful things to each other.

“Say what you need to say…”

It’s miserable to realize that if the past 2 hours had been spent doing laundry instead of at the career center, at least some of my life would have gotten in order. It’s depressing to then spend the next 2 hours failing at the laundry.

Disrobe, lie bare, and let the naked truth be exposed in the bitter cold of the impending winter.

The ditch by the side of the road called. It wants to know where I was last night.

Midnight bacon works most times, but some nights require 10:30 calamari.

Did you already have an American Beauty one started?
No, I’m doing one about squid.
Did you already have a squid one started?

I like whimsy and creativity.
I like nostalgia. So I can be, ‘Hey, it's rabite but pink! Aw, I remember rabite.’.
Yeah, I'm like, ‘Seriously? Killer purple fluffy mushroom? Yeah, you barely eked by with that one the first time around, Squaresoft.’.
It would be neat if real life were like that. Like there's a blonde you somewhere out there, and later on, a pink-haired one.

The Pure Land is the last beautiful place you go to; a lingering beauty in a sea of ugly, where one cannot go back to.

Pyramid, already a clever game, is elegant because the Winner’s Circle round is not merely an exciting bonus round, but a built-up tapering of the prior round. In the earlier round, clues must be given for things in a category to be guessed. In the later round, things must be given for a category to be guessed.

There are 2 types of gameshows: Those I know from GSN, and those I admit to watching.

Sound on, sound off.

I hate November

Everyone is judgmental and lies about it really well.

If someone tells you that honesty is the best policy, they're lying.

Good riddance to hypocrisy.

“Why did you just buy a pint of milk?”
I’m going to a pumpkin party. <pulls out box of pumpkin spice pudding>
“<gapes> Oh.”
You really should know better than to ask me that kind of question.

The proof is in.

Why did we ever even bother with jello.

“Wait, are you asking me to be an antiwingman?”

Even insanity needs a getaway driver.

“…That's the reason you're here, mighty wingman / You're taking one for the team…”

Lack of control is the stamp of nightmare, be it creator unable to control creation or individual at the mercy of an inevitable higher power.

Veterans.

1) Overcharging students
2) Putting subliminal messages in endcap signs
3) That obnoxious buyback woman who sighs, and whines about everything, and demands to speak to someone about how outrageous it is that we aren't giving her more money, and just has a thoroughly unpleasant attitude- every single semester
4) The poltergeist in the Architecture section that always messes up the books there no matter how often you straighten
5) Destroying books and magazines in front of customers
6) ActiveDirectory
7) Finding invoices
8) Plotting to annex GM, enslave their workers, pillage their merchandise
9) Nibbling on candy, then putting it back so no one notices
10) Slack-off-Sundays
11) Getting M[] in trouble

Passa recaptiva.
“Crazy” (in love), which is
Girlstruck repeating the
Same hope, becomes

Synonymetric’ly
“Insanity”, which is
Somehow expecting some
Diff’rent outcomes.

Get off, unwrought romance
That won’t advance
Past passed reflection, nor’ll entrance
By chance of second chance.

So Rent is 3 Musketeers?
But the question is, what’s the Snickers?
Fight Club?
No, Fight Club’s the Milky Way. Snickers is Candy.

Candy is not even mostly a drug. It’s a relationship, albeit just as addictive.

Heaven is being together and happy.
Earth is being together and miserable.
Hell is being apart because you’ve realized that you can’t be happy together.

I can’t take vitamins seriously.

Closer to home: going in circles but seeing straight.

“We've been waiting all our lives / For things we've always had…”

I woke up this morning someplace new. The sun was shining. I reached for my glasses. The right side was broken; it had broken sometime last night.

“…But have no eyes to see…”

A beautiful woman appeared before me, telling me how I got here and what had happened; and apologizing for how she couldn’t stay and how she had things she needed to go do now.

“…Something new is going to happen / The most natural thing / But nothing we'd expect…”

There was a note above me:
“Obama is President.
(Feel free to sleep here)”

“…All these buildings and mountains…”

[Feed the starving pollworkers! Anyone willing to bring food to Glenridge Elementary can earn serious awesome points.]

No one even has a pro-McCain argument any more. The best they can do is anti-Obama.

The tragedy of this campaign is how greatest strengths are greatest weaknesses.
The salvation of this election is how greatest weaknesses are greatest strengths.

“Yes we can…”

Rachel Getting Married is a paean to Stoicism.

I called non-emergency police about kid, gave Calypso fresh water/food/litter, sent an e-mail that A[] will think I'm crazy for, and am getting breakfast with you in the morning. I think that's a good a place as any to call it a night.

It’s been a long night.
It’s going to be a long November.

Of Thee I Sing: 148 lamb chops, a bridge joke, and the best darned corn muffins you ever ate. Really, that’s all I need.