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And that. That is only on campus. Since I'm probably the only one who reads this and knows what Rochester actually looks like, I'll try and put things into perspective. The winters here and long and furious. There is lots of snow and, because of this, lots of salt and snow plows. Salt builds up and stains most everything. Plows push snow to anywhere but the roads. So long as there is snow on the ground, it looks beautiful. Now, get rid of this snow, gradually, over three days worth of sun. What is left is a muddy, tore up, and generally dead area. Sunshine and blooming leaves don't mesh well with mud and dead grass. It just looks wrong. There needs to be snow. Or rain. Or fog. Or sleet. Some kind of weather condition needs to be there. Sun just doesn't work. Nothing would make me happier than if six feet of snow were to fall from the skies overnight.
And that. That is only on campus. Since I'm probably the only one who reads this and knows what Rochester actually looks like, I'll try and put things into perspective. The winters here and long and furious. There is lots of snow and, because of this, lots of salt and snow plows. Salt builds up and stains most everything. Plows push snow to anywhere but the roads. So long as there is snow on the ground, it looks beautiful. Now, get rid of this snow, gradually, over three days worth of sun. What is left is a muddy, tore up, and generally dead area. Sunshine and blooming leaves don't mesh well with mud and dead grass. It just looks wrong. There needs to be snow. Or rain. Or fog. Or sleet. Some kind of weather condition needs to be there. Sun just doesn't work. Nothing would make me happier than if six feet of snow were to fall from the skies overnight.
Can't we please resurrect this place? It was so much fun once, a long time ago.
In the spirit of posting for the sake of posting, here are some of the things that resulted from a Google ©™¾® Image Search for "nonsense." GO!
And so on and so forth...
Okay, heres something new kids. I hope you people hate interviews, because I have one for you. And this might become a typical thing. The test-run will be with the lovable, irresistible, Puerto Rican, chocolate-filled Shmike (only three of those adjectives are true). Prozack: state your name S: Shmike P: name three of the bands youve been listening to lately S: Joy Division, the Clash, and Beck P: I too enjoy clash. S: London CallingEis a masterpiece, it seems P: do you have favorite kind of weather? S: before rain in the summer P: if you could watch two people fight, who you would you choose? S: shit...the only thing that comes to mind is Buddha and Gandhi, because theyre so damn passive P: who would you root for? S: Buddha, all the way P: last cd you listened to? S: beck - sea change P: last cd you bought? S: Modest Mouse - building something out of nothing; a long time ago P: last movie you watched, beginning to end? S: labyrinth P: would you recommend it? S: not to anyone allergic to cheesy 80's Bowie rock, or muppets P: what do you think of the Lost Desk Department? S: an exercise in apathy P: what was the last interesting thing you read? S: an essay by Adlous Huxley about metaphysical poetry P: last good advice you were given? S: can't remember. it might've been about not stepping in poo, or not pooping where people step. I really don't know. P: last time you broke the law? S: Saturday night P: can you say what you were doing? S: by driving on the wrong side of the road, and sincerely thinking nothing of it. I was under the impression I was on a two-lane road. .... I was also slightly drunk. P: what do you think when I say the word "emo"? S: fluffy white clouds P: seriously, has it become a joke? S: maybe it always was P: do you have a favorite guitar chord? S: x5465x S: or any variant up or down the fretboard P: if you could see one band in concert that is no longer together, who would it be? S: smashing pumpkins, you fool P: what would you hope the encore to be? S: tonight tonight, you dolt P: why are you being so mean to me? S: because i secretly just want to hold your hand P: if you were given five minutes of free television, what would you do with it? S: show porn, or read poetry, or some wonderful combination of the two P: you could have porn stars reading poetry and getting fucked in the butt S: while getting pounded by peter north, i like the sound of that P: peter north is my favorite male porn star, did you know that? S: oh i know, all too well P: heh heh S: Im contemplating putting a picture of his cock on a shirt for you P: you were there for the "having a favorite male pornstar doesnt make me gay" argument, correct? S: i might've been S: when and where did it take place? P: Dennys, where all great debates take place S: if i was i don't remember it S: but i remember you saying something like that to me before P: well, maybe Ill post that later...anyway P: what can you remember of Shmike circa 2000? S: what grade was that? 10th? P: 10 then into 11 S: wait nevermind. Shmike 2000 was into punk, in a very fashionable sort of way P: do you think we'd get along with Shmike 2000 or would he annoy us and then we'd take his wallet? S: the latter, almost definitely P: finish this lyric: This morning was a joke When I awoke in bed. I decided to lay and smoke, ____________________ S: and call my lady for some head P: last time you were inspired? S: Friday P: what do you hope to have a year from now? S: a fucking job P: do you wish to quote anyone? S: "meh" -Ugly Joe or "feh" -Mel Brooks P: anything you would like to say? ask? insult? S: not really
The guy was rather suprised that anyone bothered to stop and help him. By the time he started talking, I was regretting doing this. He looked rather pissed. I asked what was wrong and he snapped back with an obvious "my truck isn't running". I tried to lightly laugh that off and asked if he knew what was wrong specifically with the truck. At this point he turned to the engine and started talking about what he thought the problem was. This was mostly jibberish to me. He asked my opinion on it. Knowing next to nothing about engines, I told him one of the things he already said and sort of mumbled off. He looked slightly grateful, but pissed nonetheless. I asked if he wanted to use my cellphone. He didn't. I got back in my truck and drove off. A few hours of driving later, I got bored again and spotted another vehicle on the side of the road. This was a family of three (mom, dad, son). They were much more talkative. I asked if there was anything I could do to help, but they had already called for help. They still seemed happy to have someone to talk to, though, so I stayed for a while and let them ramble on a bit. Their son occasionally looked up from their GBA and gave me an odd look. I eventually got bored of listening to them and said I had a to go. Got back in my truck and drove some more. What did I learn from this? Helping people with car problems is not my best way of helping people. Also, talking to people is more boring than driving for long hours at a time. Hrm...I guess that's a moral. By the way, none of that actually happened.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous postings, Or to take arms against an internet of troubles, And by opposing end them? To smoke: to shit; No more!; and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural blunts That fresh is heir to, 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be smok'd. To die, to sleep; To shit: perchance to dream: ay, there's the spray; For in that sleep of death, that is my ass, what dicks may come. When we have shuffled off this mortal coil (of shit), Must give us pause: there's the respect That makes crapping of so long life; For who would bear the whips and scorns of posting, The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's commenting, The pages of despised love, the law's no apply, The insolence of office and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his asshole make With a bare Johnson? who would even dare, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the humping of something after death, The undiscover'd country of necrophilia from whose bourn No traveler returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those shits we have Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus shitting does make cowards of us all; And thus the native hue of resolution Is stressed o'er with the pale cast of thought, And enterprises of great pith and moment With this regard my currents turn awry, And lose the name of action.--Fuck you now! The fair Lost Desk Department! Devil, in thy orisons Be all my sins remember'd.
You are the conductor of a runaway trolley. On the track ahead, there are five people tied to the track who can't get up. The trolley cannot be stopped, so it will eventually hit and kill the five unfortunate victims. You are not helpless, however. As conductor, you can switch to a different track. This track, however, also has a person tied to it who will be killed, should you decide to switch tracks. The question here, do you switch tracks? Seems kinda obvious to me. Still, there are a few questions to be raised. Is it okay to kill the one guy to spare the five? What makes that one so expendable? etc. etc. etc. Now, there have been other variations to make it harder to answer. This one I like the most: There is a similar situation as before, i.e., there is a runaway trolly going down a track and the track has five victims tied to it. However, there is not option of switching tracks. The five vicitims are screwed. Now, this time, you are not the conductor. This time, the trolley's track goes under a bridge. You are on that bridge and can see what is going to inevitabely happen. In a desperate attempt to think of a solution, you surmise that the trolley can definately be stopped if something heavy were thrown on the track, something weighing a few hundred pounds. Another onlooker, let's call him the fat man, is also looking downward at the track. You do the math. A simple push and the fat man falls off the bridge and lands on the track before the five victims. The fat man is indeed quite large, so he'd definately stop the trolley. Of course, the fall, combined with the crash, will kill the fat man. The question this time, do you push the fatman? In essence, this is the same question. Do you allow five to die, or allow one to die? What's different is that you are killing the one person. The fat man is not a victim until you make him a victim. He has the right to live, doesn't he? Well what about the one man from the first situation? Didn't he? But, don't the five as well? etc. etc. etc. I found that extremely amusing (and not just in a dark comedy kind of way). Made me think a bit, and I like that. Besides, the update wrote itself. So, for furter reference: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trolley_problem |
