“A certain man came out of a brothel while Cato [the Censor] was going by. When the man started to run away, Cato called him back and praised him [because he was releasing his libido with prostitutes rather than with virgins or married women]. Later, when he had seen him coming quite often out of the same brothel, he said, as the story goes: ‘Young man, I praised you on the assumption that you visited here, not that you lived here.’”—Pseudo-Acron on Horace Sat. 1.2.31-32 (via eush)
“‘Punning’ is, it is true, an unfortunate description, because it connotes for us a humorous intention, while by the Greeks it was frequently regarded as a means of attaining truth, or as aesthetically valuable in itself.”—
I’ve often wondered this as well. Why do games for girls, hell, for any female, always obsessed with a predilection for pink? This article outlines a few ways to market games better (via GamePolitics).
“Me: “Okay sir, can you hear me?”
Pilot: “Loud and clear. Okay, I have a problem with my radar…it won’t test and nothing is coming up in the O-F-F position.”
Me: “Well, sir, turn it to the O-N position and let me know how things work out.”—Not Always Right » Military Intelligence
“First, it seems that reading might not be your strongest suit given your initial letter, which showed that you had not read our paper, and given subsequent conversations with your followers, in which you wrote that you still had not bothered to read our paper.”—Lenski dialog (WikiSource) (via The Daily Telegraph, via in turn thedailywhat), considered, according to Tom Chivers, to be “one of the greatest and most comprehensive put-downs in scientific argument”. This segment is but a small small part.
There’s a mouse between me and the floor above. I can hear it running around in the ceiling, occasionally squeaking. The sinister plan to attract the mouse with a bit of cheese and decapitate it doesn’t appear to be working. Maybe it has performance anxiety, knowing that I’ll be describing its every movement and broadcasting them on the internet, because it went quiet almost the second I started typing this. It’s night and I should be sleeping, and I’m sure the fucker will continue to annoy me the second I publish this post and turn off the computer. That’s why I’m desperately trying to find something interesting to say about mice, to extend the writing of this post. Like this: we had mice in the walls once. I think there were two of them. I’m not sure what’s preferrable: having them run around in the walls or in the ceiling. I think the thought of having a mouse inches from my face as I sleep, even if there is a wall between me and the mouse that it can’t get through, is a more unsettling thought than having it run around far above me. And I’m not even particularly scared of mice or rats or spiders or other small animals and insects that people are scared of. In fact I like them, so long as they stay out of my fucking way and in particular allow me to get my all too few hours of sleep without having to worry about waking up with my breath stinking of tarantula or mouse and it not being a metaphor.
Anyway, it’s been quiet for five minutes now, at least, so I assume the mouse has resigned itself to the fact (which is really a lie) that I’m going to be chronicling its movements all night, and so has calmed down and stepped off the stage, allowing me to stop chronicling its steps and (hopefully) get to sleep (making it a lie that I’m going to chronicle its movements all night, but folks, my honor does not extend beyond primates). Good night.
Sweet stuff works better. Peanut butter or Nutella. Works for us.