Amissum haud immemoratum umquam cordi.

Yay being able to use a Classics degree.
“I hope you get to use it again some time for more than 10 minutes.”
heh I take what I can get. Or, rather: it's lost but not forgotten, forever in my heart.

Hamletmachine fractures a story into its most haunting aspects. The tragedy is madness.

“I was Hamlet: I stood on the coast and spoke with the surf, at my back the ruins of Europe…”

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And if that doesn’t work, just say that your uncle locked your dead dog out of the apartment, and he’s only in town for 2 days.

Humor me for a second.

Food chain of command.

The Eagle is what it is: a mediocre Roman epic movie. The are no characters, no themes, no plot, merely geographic and historical setting; but the film makes no pretenses that it intends any other delivery.

The weekend, like my SI single, starts to end.

Excellently squired.

Like the turtle found on the side of the road, we keep the tangent overnight, then let it go away.

We withhold ourselves until we are ready to do something. But the world is never on the same page as us.
But you can’t blame the world there, only the us.
Oh, I was going to blame the M[].

"Watson is at a disadvantage when it comes to humor, wordplay, irony, and so forth. But then again, so are many humans that I meet, particularly the ones working rental car counters."

The last 7 words turn what could have been satiric wisdom into mediocre stand up, or turn mediocre stand up into ironic commentary on how humanity need not fear the loss of one defining quality.

“Let’s paint the picture of the perfect place…”

Looking in all the wrong places

“…And the grass is getting greener each day…”

On to the next thing.

“…Yeah, we’re going down…”

“All the things she said / Running through my head…”

Running through the streets at 2am, where there is only one direction to go: onwards, one way or the other along the snowbanked trenches of Broadway. Past music spilling from dying bars; past barred cemetery gates; toward the destination, the departure point reached with fresh composure, like evoked lies and poetry. A thaw as the blackclouds gather, 3 thunderstrikes lit the sky, and winter remains the forgotten season.

“…This is not / Enough…”

I can’t plan a return
‘Cross bridge I burn
Away, so here I stay and yearn
To learn to learn to learn.

Some part of me will always go aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah when I send an e-mail.

Telemachus goes to Nestor before he goes to Menelaus

I think the former wouldn't be a problem if we lattered. But because we don't, then it is.

Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this 4th wall.

“We are two mariners…”

And Moby Dick as an 80s rock musical.

“…And before us grew the angry jaws of a giant whale…”

Something requiring deciding quickly probably isn’t what I wanted to be doing anyhow.

Def and don’t think.

You have a very attractive checklist.
“I get told that all the time. Though you may need to tweak it.”
I’ll tweak your checklist.

Entertaining the distraction.

Did I miss a call from you? I was too busy watching a pirated copy of Black Swan with M[] and D[] and B[] and M[] that froze right after the masturbation scene. fml. Luckily, the hilariously, hilariously mistranlasted chinese to english subtitles provided enough comedy to cut any tension.

Our problem isn’t that we overthink, it’s that we underdo.

I love when I simultaneously realize what I like, why I like it, and what I need to not do.
I hate when I accidentally try to go to thingI'msearchingfor.com instead of searching for it.

“Upon the rooftops in dead of night / You'll hear me cry, I'll shake you from your sleep…”

Scaling 4 foot snowdrifts so densely packed in places that my weight is supported, and eventually stagger into a Decemberists’ concert. Story of my life: despite the redline’s best efforts, I shall have fun.

“…For I am a poor and a wretched boy / A chimbley, chimbley sweep…”

I'm thinking of doing something crazy and foolish, like going outside. Nevermind. I'm actually looking up Pacific Northwest Tree Octopi.
Oh, well good. That was going ot be my suggestion, in fact.

I’m thinking of doing something crazy and foolish.

You know, you’re hard to read. You like Paris, and hate French.
I like places and hate people. Oh. haha That was a language, not a substantive.

The problem with a veto is how a 2/3 majority overrides it.

The lesson of Yalta is that there’s always Tehran.
“See you in Berlin, then.”
Meet you halfway.

Youth passes like a clung autumn, left behind when the last day of school is abandoned.
Snow days are forever.

“…School’s out forever…”

“They’re falling down like a domino…”

The problem with debt is temporal: the future is obligated to the past. But unless the debt is for future’s benefit, why should they undertake past’s burden? Rather, future protests, and righteously defaults. But then what is past to do: what motivation for goodwill, if they are merely enacting their replacement?

“…All the kids in the marketplace say…”

Thus passes Machiavelli, done in by a supermajority of past and future.

“…Walk like an Egyptian…”