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The Random Thought Megathread

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#5,301
Tom Bomb said:
"Friends, Romans, and countrymen, lend me your ears!"
(They were all of them fond of quotations:
So they drank to his health, and they gave him three cheers,
While he served out additional rations).

"We have sailed many months, we have sailed many weeks,
(Four weeks to the month you may mark),
But never as yet ('tis your Captain who speaks)
Have we caught the least glimpse of a Snark!

"We have sailed many weeks, we have sailed many days,
(Seven days to the week I allow),
But a Snark, on the which we might lovingly gaze,
We have never beheld till now!

"Come, listen, my men, while I tell you again
The five unmistakable marks
By which you may know, wheresoever you go,
The warranted genuine Snarks.

"Let us take them in order. The first is the taste,
Which is meagre and hollow, but crisp:
Like a coat that is rather too tight in the waist,
With a flavour of Will-o'-the-wisp.

"Its habit of getting up late you'll agree
That it carries too far, when I say
That it frequently breakfasts at five-o'clock tea,
And dines on the following day.

"The third is its slowness in taking a jest.
Should you happen to venture on one,
It will sigh like a thing that is deeply distressed:
And it always looks grave at a pun.

"The fourth is its fondness for bathing-machines,
Which it constantly carries about,
And believes that they add to the beauty of scenes—
A sentiment open to doubt.

"The fifth is ambition. It next will be right
To describe each particular batch:
Distinguishing those that have feathers, and bite,
From those that have whiskers, and scratch.

"For, although common Snarks do no manner of harm,
Yet, I feel it my duty to say,
Some are Boojums—" The Bellman broke off in alarm,
For the Baker had fainted away.
Click to expand...

 
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#5,304
Tom Bomb said:
"Friends, Romans, and countrymen, lend me your ears!"
(They were all of them fond of quotations:
So they drank to his health, and they gave him three cheers,
While he served out additional rations).

"We have sailed many months, we have sailed many weeks,
(Four weeks to the month you may mark),
But never as yet ('tis your Captain who speaks)
Have we caught the least glimpse of a Snark!

"We have sailed many weeks, we have sailed many days,
(Seven days to the week I allow),
But a Snark, on the which we might lovingly gaze,
We have never beheld till now!

"Come, listen, my men, while I tell you again
The five unmistakable marks
By which you may know, wheresoever you go,
The warranted genuine Snarks.

"Let us take them in order. The first is the taste,
Which is meagre and hollow, but crisp:
Like a coat that is rather too tight in the waist,
With a flavour of Will-o'-the-wisp.

"Its habit of getting up late you'll agree
That it carries too far, when I say
That it frequently breakfasts at five-o'clock tea,
And dines on the following day.

"The third is its slowness in taking a jest.
Should you happen to venture on one,
It will sigh like a thing that is deeply distressed:
And it always looks grave at a pun.

"The fourth is its fondness for bathing-machines,
Which it constantly carries about,
And believes that they add to the beauty of scenes—
A sentiment open to doubt.

"The fifth is ambition. It next will be right
To describe each particular batch:
Distinguishing those that have feathers, and bite,
From those that have whiskers, and scratch.

"For, although common Snarks do no manner of harm,
Yet, I feel it my duty to say,
Some are Boojums—" The Bellman broke off in alarm,
For the Baker had fainted away.
Click to expand...
317 words :eek:
 
#5,309
Gorn said:
Orangina.
Click to expand...

110ojkn.jpg
 
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#5,310
Further random thoughts concerning my intended vacation are as follows....

Having decided no Canada.....Should I just go yes Mexico?....

A problem, or two, here.....

They do not sell sticks of rock....Not even Wintergreen flavor.....Shame....

Also last trip to the land of Tequila and Burrito's went less than well......

Woke up in a Tijuana jail with a sore bottom and a new tattoo...

Would prefer not to repeat that.....

Also, vaguely remember donkeys.....:wideyed:....

Hmmmmm.....
 
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#5,312
No Country for Old Men(dacity)

FADE IN:

EXT. MOUNTAINS - NIGHT Snow is falling in a gusting wind. The voice of an old man:

VOICE OVER

I was sheriff of this county when I was twenty-five. Hard to believe. Grandfather was a lawman. Father too. Me and him was sheriff at the same time, him in Piano and me here. I think he was pretty proud of that. I know I was.​

EXT. WEST TEXAS LANDSCAPE - DAWN/DAY

We dissolve to another West Texas landscape. Sun is rising.

VOICE OVER (CONT'D)

Some of the old-time sheriffs never even wore a gun. A lot of folks find that hard to believe. Jim Scarborough never carried one. That's the younger Jim. Gaston Boykins wouldn't wear one. Up in Comanche County.​

We dissolve through more landscapes, bringing us to full day. None of them show people or human habitation.

VOICE OVER (CONT'D)

I always liked to hear about the old-timers. Never missed a chance to do so. ****** Hoskins over in Bastrop County knowed everbody's phone number off by heart. You can't help but compare yourself against the old- timers.

Can't help but wonder how they would've operated these times. There was this boy I sent to the gas chamber at Huntsville here a while back. My arrest and my testimony. He killed a fourteen-year-old girl. Papers said it was a crime of passion but he told me there wasn't any passion to it.​

EXT. WEST TEXAS ROAD - DAY

The last landscape, hard sun-baked prairie, is surveyed in a long slow pan.

VOICE OVER

Told me that he'd been planning to kill somebody for about as long as he could remember. Said that if they turned him out he'd do it again.​

The pan has brought into frame the flashing light bars of a police car stopped on the shoulder. A young sheriff's deputy is opening the rear door on the far side of the car.

VOICE OVER (CONT'D)

Said he knew he was going to hell. Be there in about fifteen minutes. I don't know what to make of that. I surely don't.​

Close on a pair of hands manacled behind someone's back. A hand enters to take the prisoner by one arm.

VOICE OVER (CONT'D)

The crime you see now, it's hard to even take its measure. It's not that I'm afraid of it.​

Back to the shot over the light bars: the deputy, with a hand on top of the prisoner's head to help him clear the door frame, eases the prisoner into the backseat. All we see of the prisoner is his dark hair disappearing into the car.

VOICE OVER (CONT'D)

I always knew you had to be willing to die to even do this job -- not to be glorious. But I don't want to push my chips forward and go out and meet something I don't understand.​

The deputy closes the back door. He opens the front passenger door and reaches down for something-apparently heavy-at his feet.

VOICE OVER (CONT'D)

You can say it's my job to fight it but I don't know what it is anymore.​

The deputy swings the heavy object into the front passenger seat. Matching inside the car: it looks like an oxygen tank with a petcock at the top and tubing running off it.

VOICE OVER (CONT'D)

More than that, I don't want to know. A man would have to put his
soul at hazard.​

The deputy slams the door. On the door slam we cut to Texas highway racing under the lens, the landscape flat to the horizon. The siren whoops.
...

VOICE OVER (CONT'D)

He would have to say, okay, I'll be part of this world.​

​
 
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