Harold Camping has it wrong.
This weekend there will be
In the space-time continuum
And all his followers
Will be consumed
By huge alpaca lips.
Not that I am about to convert, but someone really needs to come up with this denomination. The tricky thing will be giving it a name.
This is the middle panel of an XKCD comic, which is distributed under a non-commercial, attribution creative commons license.
pedestrian voices rise
into my office.
No Pants Day.
behind locked door.
Open door policy.
at committing hay(na)ku.
“Meh,” Carol replied.
But not I.
Yoda in Steel Cage Writes Poetry
sunlight enters through.
Let’s say the following events occur. (I have a friend who is wondering…)
1] You purchase tickets online to an event
2] You arrive at the event, and the box office agent has you recorded as having purchased twice as many tickets as you are aware of purchasing
3] You protest, “I only purchased X tickets, and only received an online email receipt for X tickets”
4] Box office agent queries boss, and receives permission to resell your extra tickets and hand you the cash.
5] It is emphasized this isn’t normally done, but the boss OKd it, and you express your gratitude.
6] You return home, check your online bank account, and confirm – only one set of tickets was purchased
7] You realize you basically attended a free event, but the venue is out $X. (You did purchase drinks while there, so they did make some money off you.)
8] But you also realize the boss gave the OK, so the box office peon isn’t going to get in trouble for it if the likely electronic blip is discovered.
9] The facts don’t change in your bank account – let’s hypothetically give it a week.
Do you feel morally obligated to return the extra cash to the venue?
Or is this the Monopoly-equivalent “Bank error in your favor, collect $X”
As I said referencing
Arafat back in November of 2004
and Oral Roberts in December of 2009
בנפל אויבך אל תשמח ובכשלו אל יגל לבך
If your enemy falls, do not exult; If he trips, let your heart not rejoice.
Say unto them: As I live, saith the L-rd G-D, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live; turn ye, turn ye from your evil ways; for why will ye die, O house of Israel?
The death of anyone is not cause for joy.
I think it is OK for one to be relieved that someone has been ‘brought to justice,’ if those are terms you’d use, and you feel death is justice.
Poets of the World Unite
We have nothing to lose but constraints!
May First, Two Thousand Eleven
On the one hundred twenty fifth
I strike for poems five lines in length;
No more than eight syllables each.
Haymarket Affair – May 1-4, 1886
Note: The 1886 strike was for a five day, forty hour work week. From which I obtained the idea for the poem.