politics

Daily Show Debate Quote

Posted on

Said Rob Corddrey of the Daily Show, in response to an assertion that Senator Kerry had little chance against the hard working man of people President Bush:

“If I may John, that is a bit of a stretch. The Bush people would like to remind you that he held his own against the smartest man in the history of the world. This is an amazing accomplishment for a president who, the Bush team points out, by some standardized test results is technically retarded. John, as RNC chairman Ed Gilllespie told me before we came on air, ‘This is a president who was nearly killed by a pretzel.'”

space

Star Wars Quote of the Day

Posted on

There has been a ton of Star Wars attention lately due to the first three movies, episodes IV – VI, being released as a boxed set in DVD format (finally). The best line I’ve heard/read so far is from Luke himself, actor Marc Hamill:

“How can you be so serious on a film where you are dodging explosions and running away with Sir Alec Guinness on this side and an eight-foot monkey on this side, and the eight-foot monkey is the one flying the spaceship?”

Courtesy of CNN.com Entertainment news.

ramblings

Note On a Scrap

Posted on

Originally from 6/24/01:

“The universal themes addressed in his works – life, love, war and religious faith – speak directly to the twenty-first sentry mind” – last sentence of the intro to the Met’s William Blake exhibitions. What strikes me the most is the sense of immediacy that the statement represents – and how everything these days is clamoring to be “super relevant” because of the date change. So we are in the new millennium and now everything is starting a new – therefore everything is relevant to the individual looking to refocus, refine, rediscover or reinvent himself.

ramblings

Excerpts

Posted on

Some complain that e-mail is impersonal–that your contact with me, during the e-mail phase of our relationship, was mediated by wires and screens and cables. Some would say that’s not as good as conversing face-to-face. And yet our seeing of things is always mediated by corneas, retinas, optic nerves, and some neural machinery that takes the information from the optic nerve and propagates it into our minds. So, is looking at words on a screen so very much inferior? I think not; at least then you are conscious of the distortions. Whereas, when you see someone with your eyes, you forget about the distortions and imagine you are experiencing them purely and immediately.
— Neal Stephenson, an excerpt from Cryptonomicon

I am ashamed of my century
for being so entertaining
but I have to smile
— Frank O’Hara, an excerpt from “Naptha”

Violence stinks, no matter which end of it you’re on. But now and then there’s nothing left to do but hit the other person over the head with a frying pan. Sometimes people are just begging for that frypan, and if we weaken for a moment and honor their request, we should regard it as impulsive philanthropy, which we aren’t in any position to afford, but shouldn’t regret it too loudly lest we spoil the purity of the deed.
— Tom Robbins, an excerpt from one of his books, exact book unknown

literature

Thoughts on NY

Posted on

From the ruins, lonely & as inexplicable as the sphinx, rose the Empire State Building. And just as it had been a tradition of mine to climb to the plaza roof to take leave of the beautiful city, extending as far as the eyes could reach, so now I went to the roof of the last & most magnificent of towers. Then I understood. Everything was explained. I had discovered the crowning error of the city; it’s Pandora’s box. Full of vanity, pride, the New Yorker had climbed here and seen with dismay what he had never suspected. That the city was not the endless succession of canyons that he had supposed, but that it had limits, fading out into the country on all sides into an expanse of green and blue that alone was limitless. And with the awful realization that New York was a city after all and not a universe, the while shining edifice that he had reared in his imagination came crashing to the ground. That was the gift that Alfred Smith gave to the citizens of New York.

F. Scott Fitzgerald, excerpt from My Lost City