i can see we have a lot fo meganerds in this thread how about playing this game start with this premise your sink broke and you need to fix it go find some tools that will make that happen and do it oh you can not do that well then all stars i guess you can go back to playing settlers of nerdplanet well your house floods and you lose everything man when did america turn in to wussville times were when a fun game was lets see how fast you can get this four barrel humming again and change out hte head gasket on a hemi now its about tryig to be the biggest uberdweebazoid man i do not like where we are headed but hey oh well merry christmas to all and to all a good night
INELUCTABLE MODALITY OF THE VISIBLE: AT LEAST THAT IF NO MORE, thought through my eyes. Signatures of all things I am here to read, seaspawn and seawrack, the nearing tide, that rusty boot. Snotgreen, bluesilver, rust: coloured signs. Limits of the diaphane. But he adds: in bodies. Then he was aware of them bodies before of them coloured. How? By knocking his sconce against them, sure. Go easy. Bald he was and a millionaire, maestro di color che sanno. Limit of the diaphane in. Why in? Diaphane, adiaphane. If you can put your five fingers through it, it is a gate, if not a door. Shut your eyes and see.Stephen closed his eyes to hear his boots crush crackling wrack and shells. You are walking through it howsomever. I am, a stride at a time. A very short space of time through very short times of space. Five, six: the nacheinander. Exactly: and that is the ineluctable modality of the audible. Open your eyes. No. Jesus! If I fell over a cliff that beetles o'er his base, fell through the nebeneinander ineluctably. I am getting on nicely in the dark. My ash sword hangs at my side. Tap with it: they do. My two feet in his boots are at the end of his legs, nebeneinander. Sounds solid: made by the mallet of Los Demiurgos. Am I walking into eternity along Sandymount strand? Crush, crack, crick, crick. Wild sea money. Dominie Deasy kens them a'.Won't you come to Sandymount,Madeline the mare? Rhythm begins, you see. I hear. A catalectic tetrameter of iambs marching. No, agallop: deline the mare. Open your eyes now. I will. One moment. Has all vanished since? If I open and am for ever in the black adiaphane. Basta! I will see if I can see. See now. There all the time without you: and ever shall be, world without end. Reading two pages apiece of seven books every night, eh? I was young. You bowed to yourself in the mirror, stepping forward to applause earnestly, striking face. Hurray for the #######ed idiot! Hray! No-one saw: tell no-one. Books you were going to write with letters for titles. Have you read his F? O yes, but I prefer Q. Yes, but W is wonderful. O yes, W. Remember your epiphanies on green oval leaves, deeply deep, copies to be sent if you died to all the great libraries of the world, including Alexandria? Someone was to read them there after a few thousand year, a mahamanvantara. Pico della Mirandola like. Ay, very like a whale. When one reads these strange pages of one long gone one feels that one is at one with one who once...لقد ظل الشعور بأن الوعي الإنساني يتطور، ويتنامى منذ زمن هيجل على الاقل . وعلى الرغم من أن الكينونة الإنسانية تعني أن يكون المرء شخصا - من ثم - فريدا غير قابل للاستنساخ ، فلذا يتطلب أن يكون نصه كذلك ، وكذلك تلقيه للنص ، حيث يتحول بقراءته إلى الداخل . داخل الداخل !.”― جيمس جويس, عوليس