“Now the serpent was more subtle than any of the beasts of the earth which the Lord God had made. And he said to the woman: Why hath God commanded you, that you should not eat of every tree of paradise?
And the woman answered him, saying: Of the fruit of the trees that are in paradise we do eat:
But of the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of paradise, God hath commanded us that we should not eat; and that we should not touch it, lest perhaps we die.
And the serpent said to the woman: No, you shall not die the death.
For God doth know that in what day soever you shall eat thereof, your eyes shall be opened: and you shall be as Gods, knowing good and evil.” –Genesis 3:1-5 (Douay-Rheims)
- \ˈärt, ərt\ noun: the conscious use of skill and creative imagination especially in the production of aesthetic objects.
From la wik:
The second and more recent sense of the word “art” is as an abbreviation for creative art or fine art, and emerged in the early 17th century.
Fine art means that a skill is being used to express the artist’s creativity, or to engage the audience’s aesthetic sensibilities, or to draw the audience towards consideration of the finer things.
In response to Abercrombie & Fitch CEO Mike Jeffries not wanting “not so cool” kids or women who wear size large to wear his company’s clothes, Greg Karber has come up with a funny and creative way to readjust the Abercrombie & Fitch brand.
He’s giving their clothes to the homeless. [Link]
It is a profoundly-sad reflection of our age that Greg Karber’s actions in the video are confused with actual human kindness. All I see is a man throwing clothes at some smelly human-shaped objects for the purpose of getting the librul wimminz moist.
…What, you didn’t notice that the focus is on the clothing, and not the human beings?
A few million psychopaths didn’t notice, either.
Guess what they vote for?
I used to rule the world
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Now in the morning I sleep alone
Sweep the streets I used to own
I used to roll the dice
Feel the fear in my enemy’s eyes
Listen as the crowd would sing>
“Now the old king is dead! Long live the King!”
You will be buried, cremated, or left somewhere to rot.
Your name will fade into memory.
After enough years and enough people follow you in death, you will be forgotten.
How you lived your life will not change this ending. You face the same cold embrace and obliteration as Hannibal or George Washington or Hitler.
Yes, Humanity may remember names, it may even remember yours. Yet Humanity can never truly remember the people, the individual.
To be superior, a Master, an Übermensch is to eventually be reduced to a word smeared and distorted by idiotic and facile men. So it goes.
Humanity will continue along as it always has; you have only the obliteration of time to look forward to.
Life is a well of delight; but where the rabble also drink, there all fountains are poisoned.
To everything cleanly am I well disposed; but I hate to see the grinning mouths and the thirst of the unclean.
They cast their eye down into the fountain: and now glanceth up to me their odious smile out of the fountain.
The holy water have they poisoned with their lustfulness; and when they called their filthy dreams delight, then poisoned they also the words.
News Flash: Shortly after the President mentions he may work towards getting some milquetoast restrictions passed someday, a photo taken last year at Camp David emerges. It appears that between vacations and appearances on David Letterman, our First Citizen picked up a shotgun and fired for the camera.
(As an aside: It must suck having all spontaneity systematically removed from your life.)
Anyway, the responses to this picture were to be expected: criticisms of the President’s political stances, silly critiques of his firing stance, comparisons with Bush, accusations of hypocrisy, accusations of him being the best thing since sliced bread, random bleatings from Murray’s Wasted Life…