Teachers' Lounge

I'm off to the mall! Me too!

Country

Guts

Draft

Memory

Red

Disneyland

The Moon/The Tower

History I

Testify

Media

Dreaming

Sacrifice

Compassion

Christianity

Synthesis

Cowardice

Purpose

Delusion

Madness

Risk

The Seeker

History II

History III

Power

Stylin'

Cthulhu

Hope

Happy happy joy joy! (Not the Plato Dialogues)

Burned out. I'm burned out writing anything more about this country's moral disaster that is Bush/Cheney/you-name-him-her. Really, I haven't so much written about these moral midgits than to point to articles written by people way smarter than me who have written about these moral midgits.

The above paragraph sucks. Big time.

The above paragraph contains a sentence fragment.

The above paragraph above the above paragraph is a self-referential paragraph. As is the above paragraph.

The remaining portion of this post may lead to unhealthy choices.

I'm turning into a curmudgeon.

I do not want to be a curmudgeon.

The reason I am leaning towards curmudgeoness is because I'm beginning to detest my fellow man. This is not healthy. Still, it is my choice.

Wait. you can't write that!

Who are you?

I am what I am.

Popeye?

No.

Okay, then just who the hell are you?

Barney.

Oh, God!

No. I'm Barney.

Wait!

(the looking glass)

Why?

You're not done.

I'm not?

Nope.

Ok. This is the last sentence I will ever write about Bush/Cheney/you name him-her. Satisified?

The above paragraph is a damn lie and you know it.

Ok. You caught me with my pants down.

Hold it together, dood.

I'm trying to hold it together. (And don't call me dood.) It's just that the madness around me never goes away. I think my perceptual filters are faulty or something. Why can't I be like everyone else? Why can't I go to the mall like everyone else?

You do go to the mall. I've seen you at the mall. You like the mall.

Yeah, I do like the mall. I like watching people.

Warning! - reading the above paragraph may lead you to suspect that the author is a creepy guy.

Well, any guy my age is considered creepy. To a certain extent.

True.

What?

I said that's true.

Really? I'm creepy?

Yeah, you're creepy. But, hey! The animals seem to like you.

You know, when I was a kid, I really was creepy.

Tell me about it.

Oh, I forgot.

Yeah.

But a change came over me. I went from creepy to compassionate. Like some kind of religious conversion or something. Did you know that all animals are innocent?

I don't think you mean "religious."

No?

No. I think you mean spiritual.

Aren't we getting way off topic here? All I intended to do was to write was that I was through writing about our national disgrace that is the Bush/Cheney axis of very bad things.

You really are pathetic. You know that, don't you?

Yeah. I know.

So.

So what?

So, what do you intend to do to rise above your patheticness?

Is that a word?

What, patheticness?

Yeah. Is that a word?

If I were a betting man, I'd wager no.

Do you really think I'm pathetic?

Yep.

What's the opposite of pathetic?

Particleboard.

Particleboard?

Look it up.

Seriously, I'm not going to write another word about you-know-who.

You mean them?

Yeah. Them. I'm really burned out. Writing about them. I am. Really.

The above paragraph is not, technically speaking, a paragraph. Still, it sucks. Big time.

This sentence, which may or may not be a paragraph, depending on whose definition of the word paragraph you believe, contradicts itself - or rather - well, no, actually it doesn't!

When you are not looking at it, this sentence is invisible.

This sentence no verb.

This sentence somewhat reluctantly admits to plagarizing the work of Douglas R. Hofstadter.

The following sentence, which may or may not be the final sentence, has in no way been plagarized from any existing body of work.

Bush and Cheney have been sentenced to death.

It wasn't.

This is.