| Thursday, May 5, 2005 |
| What is that slimy thing? |
It is a slug. I have been staring at it, without blinking, for six hours now, and after
one straight week, as near as I can figure, it will still be a slug.
Or, to be tempo-grammatically correct—It will always have been a slug. (On an
infinite number of earths, on any number of not necessarily co-linear time lines
there was, is, and/or may be a slug).
Poke yourself with pins, throw yourself off a bridge, and you will change it’s
sluggy nature not one whit.
It does not matter how much you want it to be a bag of chips, or a bottle of pills,
it remains a slug.
Damned stubborn, those slugs.
one straight week, as near as I can figure, it will still be a slug.
Or, to be tempo-grammatically correct—It will always have been a slug. (On an
infinite number of earths, on any number of not necessarily co-linear time lines
there was, is, and/or may be a slug).
Poke yourself with pins, throw yourself off a bridge, and you will change it’s
sluggy nature not one whit.
It does not matter how much you want it to be a bag of chips, or a bottle of pills,
it remains a slug.
Damned stubborn, those slugs.