Not as grueling as the title may suggest

Um…in this case it seems the dude did go into the store after they drove off, they came back later and attacked him in front of the store. What?

Before they returned and physically attacked him, they were just another pair of racist assholes shouting racist insults. Police approve. Why call police that would do nothing but harass the dude, who being armed would himself be shot dead? Terrible suggestion.

Why is it you don’t say the dead racist fucktards shouldn’t have called police instead of attacking an innocent man? That likely would have gotten them what they wanted, which was having the dude violently removed. Play stupid racist games, win hot lead prizes.

These guys returned from apparently getting a gun in order to beat the dude up or murder him…and lost. If ever there was a “stand your ground” case this is it, but watch, being black he will be denied that defense and charged with murder and attempted murder, and if he gets an all white jury will be convicted.

Things are so fucked. Those two boys, and all 4 of their parents deserve to be shot in the dick and allowed to die slowly over a weeks time without aid. They are wastes of skin and air and deserve the most grueling prolonged excruciating death conceivable. If I lived in the area and could identify the families, two houses would be burned to the ground already. They didn’t become violent racist piles of shit in a vacuum.

Those weren’t people he shot, they were violent racist cuntbags with 0% humanity that attacked the wrong man…meatbags committing crimes…good riddance.

Better a tool than a fool. Tools are useful, and have purpose and function.

This is my rifle, this is my tool.
This one shoots bullets, and this one shoots gruel.

Gruel - "Gruel is a type of food consisting of some type of cereal—oat, wheat or rye flour, or rice—boiled in water or milk. It is a thinner version of porridge that may be more often drunk than eaten and may not need to be cooked."

Monkey Island games were always wacky and difficult puzzles simply because it required you to think of objects in such ways as to break the fourth wall of the game itself. Guybrush and his infinite pocket space.

Also note, these are good games despite their frustrating bits. There were far more frustrations prior to the days where you are given dialog choices, when you were required to type in all of the dialog options using key words. Cough, cough, older Tex Murphy games and just about every text adventure from the dawn of home computers.

I loved those games, but many of them turned into puzzles that maybe one person in the family finally figured out after brute force trying thousands of combinations of objects with each other. I did that multiple times in the original Myst. I think there was one passcode that took close to 10,000 attempts. LOL!

Or how about games that had dead ends but didn't alert the player? Cough, cough Maniac Mansion. People could die, but as long as one person was left alive, the game never ended, even though only the bad endings are left. But it's not like modern games, some of the bad endings were themselves puzzles, and some deaths lead to a half good and half bad ending, like winning a lottery and then having a character abandon the plot altogether because he/she is rich and then THE END.

Those were the days. None of this FNAF shit -- which is really what deserves the infamy of terrible, convoluted puzzles...

Before video games became as massively popular as they are today, it wasn't always a requirement to make your game easily solved and you were not always provided with prompts for failure or success until many grueling hours, days, months, sometimes YEARS of random attempts. How many families bought a Rubik's Cube versus how many people solved it without cheating and learning the algorithms from another source?

Go back hundreds or thousands of years and it wasn't common for chess or go or xiangqi (the most popular game in the entire world TODAY) to come with rules at all, so only regions where national ruling boards were created will there be standardized rules; so, the truth, rules, patterns, and solves of games have traditionally been obfuscated and considered lifelong intellectual pursuits; and, it's only a recent, corporatized reimagining of games that has the requirement of providing your functional requirements and/or game rulings so as to maintain the value of its intellectual property. I mean, look at how Risk has evolved since the 1960s -- now there's a card that you can draw called a "Cease Fire" card which ends the game, making games much shorter and not epic at all. Easy to market, but old school players want the long stand offs -- I mean, if you're going to play Risk... TO THE BITTER END!

So...I go to John Lewis if I'm an old man who wants to look at little girls through a telescope?


The Man in the Moon had silver shoon
And his beard was of silver thread;
He was girt with pure gold and inaureoled
With gold about his head.
Clad in silken robe in his great white globe
He opened an ivory door
With a crystal key, and in secrecy
He stole o'er a shadowy floor;

Down a filigree stair of spidery hair
He slipped in gleaming haste,
And laughing with glee to be merry and free
He swiftly earthward raced.
He was tired of his pearls and diamond twirls;
Of his pallid minaret
Dizzy and white at its lunar height
In a world of silver set;

And adventured this peril for ruby and beryl
And emerald and sapphire,
And all lustrous gems for new diadems,
Or to blazon his pale attire.
He was lonely too with nothing to do
But to stare at the golden world,
Or to strain at the hum that would distantly come
As it gaily past him whirled;

And at plenilune in his argent moon
He had wearily longed for Fire-
Not the limpid lights of wan selenites,
But a red terrestrial pyre
With impurpurate glows of crimson and rose
And leaping orange tongue;
For great seas of blues and the passionate hues
When a dancing dawn is young;

For the meadowy ways like chrysophrase
By winding Yare and Nen.
How he longed for the mirth of the populous Earth
And the sanguine blood of men;
And coveted song and laughter long
And viands hot and wine,
Eating pearly cakes of light snowflakes
And drinking thin moonshine.

He twinkled his feet as he thought of the meat,
Of the punch and the peppery brew,
Till he tripped unaware on his slanting stair,
And fell like meteors do;
As the whickering sparks in splashing arcs
Of stars blown down like rain
From his laddery path took a foaming bath
In the ocean of Almain;

And began to think, lest he melt and stink,
What in the moon to do,
When a Yarmouth boat found him far afloat,
To the mazement of the crew
Caught in their net all shimmering wet
In a phosphorescent sheen
Of bluey whites and opal lights
And delicate liquid green

With the morning fish — 'twas his regal wish —
They packed him to Norwich town,
To get warm on gin in a Norfolk inn,
And dry his watery gown.
Though St. Peter's knell waked many a bell
In the city's ringing towers
To shout the news of his lunatic cruise
In the early morning hours,

No hearths were laid, not a breakfast made,
And no one would sell him gems;
He found ashes for fire, and his gay desire
For choruses and brave anthems
Met snores instead with all Norfolk abed,
And his round heart nearly broke,
More empty and cold than above of old,
Till he bartered his fairy cloak

With a half waked cook for a kitchen nook,
And his belt of gold for a smile,
And a priceless jewel for a bowl of gruel,
A sample cold and vile
Of the proud plum porridge of Anglian Norwich —
He arrived much too soon
For unusual guests on adventurous quests
From the Mountains of the Moon.

Interesting timing, since the heads of the ECB and the Eurogroup clearly disavow the theory... to the extent that eurozone member states can just forget it exists thanks and just go and be thankful for their stale bread and gruel.

Thought so too, like, how do you cast a remake of King Kong anyhoo?? Black's character in that film in particular (can't really stand him in most films) suited the director's groove and Black's level of Jack...writing totally sucked, because why? Can't recall a single LINE!!! (close to 3 grueling hours)

@playback-HAH! Portrayed himself perfectly, pulled a Matrix like Reeves

John Wayne as Genghis screams tomes of the inner-workings of the OCD God of ta-tas and aeroplanes, that film was excruciatingly surreal-Howard Hughes flicks and a sanitized hotel suite with theater seats and room service....A freak can dream, can't he?

Can't do it ....CAN'T!! Was hittin' this canyon to spread some love and found this-Tried to watch it earlier-So grueling. Owe ya one, Lilithia...

>> ^Boise_Lib:

>> ^chilaxe:
Basically he's saying "Be yourself and somehow you'll become successful or something if you're lucky."
Better advice: "Hard work and perseverance beats talent and luck, and successful careers can be reduced down to an algorithm."

Success Algorithm:
Step #1 Have a Rich Daddy.
...


Boise Lib:

Ha. As far as I can tell from the data, though, most millionaires are self-made.

I think everything we need to know about economic outcomes can be learned from this recent NYT article:

Asians' Success in High School Admissions Seen as Issue by Some.

Breitbart and Liz Trotta need to hook up. I can almost hear the cathartic grunting and sobbing, their tears and bodily fluids combining into a pungent, viscous gruel.

>> ^residue:

Agreed on the gimmicky, but could be fun. Amazing how "hardcore" something can look when you add fancy high-def slow-mo and pounding music.. I remember there be a similar race involving dressing like a viking and running a similar course. You got a free viking helmet at the end.. and beer. 12 miles with obstacles would be pretty grueling though. half-marathons without the obstacles are enough for me thanks


That was the Warrior Dash. Turn in your shoe chip for a free Coors Light at the end. The mud tasted better.

Agreed on the gimmicky, but could be fun. Amazing how "hardcore" something can look when you add fancy high-def slow-mo and pounding music.. I remember there be a similar race involving dressing like a viking and running a similar course. You got a free viking helmet at the end.. and beer. 12 miles with obstacles would be pretty grueling though. half-marathons without the obstacles are enough for me thanks

>> ^soulmonarch:

You can choose to say the 'magic words', but obviously your mind isn't convinced, so you still aren't saved by it.


@soulmonarch
I agree with the logic of thisbut I have to ask how you, as a Christian, don't find this remark kind of .. disturbing? It reminds me of one of the more grueling aspects of George Orwells "1984", namely how you're not only forced to comply, and forced to accept as unchangeable all the lies and distortions of "The Party", they are not happy with you lying, you have to actually believe it.. So for instance, in one scene Winston Smith is subjected to torture, and the interrogator shows him 3 fingers and asks how many it is, and then how many it is if the Party says its 5. The natural thing for Winston is to answer correctly "three", or to lie and say "five" to avoid torture. But his interrogator calmly explains to him that lying or playing stupid wont work. Eventually he gives up and says "I dont know!" "Better", says the interrogator.


If you genuinely think that I wont be "saved" unless I actually believe in something I really cant make myself believe, and I cant even lie and pretend to believe.. Don't you find that unsettling? What does that really tell you about Christianity?, about God?