Quote:
Originally posted by PR3SSUR3
Calvin and Hobbes' world isn't too far off the mark, considering the subject matter.
Whether you fuck words or entire paragraphs - even posts - it shouldn't be referential to the superior smarts and articulation you announced the other day whatsoever. So no running joke.
A solution to there being no God? But there is no problem. Perhaps you mean a solution to the equation itself... but of course the answer is within the result of the equation, i.e. that there is no God. I'm tempted to propose it is 42, but then I think you might have seen The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.
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I realized that I mentioned your posts being the same as reading the funny pages, but using Calvin and Hobbs to back up your claims to there being no deity is... well in a word... dumb.
The problem I have with your equation is that you made it up. Besides that, math can't prove that there is no god/s or whatever. To say that it can is also...dumb.
To quote Douglas Adams (mayherestinpeace) and use the ever hackneyed response of 42 even while joking is old hat and dumb.
I must have given you quite the tummy ache with my little boo-boo the other day. However, you're retarded posts that are just stinky with bullshit and delusions of false grandeur have provided many of us with days, and I mean days of laughter.
We're laughing at you not with you. If you lived in my state, I'd find you, and pack you off to the state loony bin to collect my fifty bucks.
However, since you're like one of those chihuahuas named Tinkerbell that will latch on to some one's pant leg and won't let go, I'm going to be forced to kick you across the room.
A Day in the Life of Pr3ssur3
A dark smelly basement filled with cobwebs and roaches. The only light comes from a computer screen. Beside the computer is a filthy bed and a bookshelf holding comic books, a few novels by Issac Asimov, a copy of Aritstotle's Poetics with a bookmark indicating that the reader hasn't gotten past the first chapter, and a single high school math primer. Sitting at the computer is a filthy teenage boy. Every now and again he jibbers something to himself and laughs hysterically.
"It's brilliant!" he says! typing in what he considers to be an over-ride code to the Pentagon's secret database.
Up above, a small slat opens at the base of the basement door and a tray with a paper plate of tuna fish and a stryofoam cup of water is passed under it.
The boy doesn't notice it. He is reading "Access Denied" for the eighth time.
*Gives the peace symbol and heads for other threads*