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7 - Third clarinet

The notes that are left over. One-note jokes, randomness, bollocks, and lots of stupid.

by Aylear
4-18-09
We have a hard time grasping the unending.
We say the galaxy has "a hundred billion stars." Yet, looking up at the night sky - knowing what we're seeing, knowing we're glimpsing worlds innumerable - doesn't inspire awe?
Like Terry Pratchett's trolls counting "one, two, many, lots", we correlate tiny numbers onto infinite vastness to make it more understandable.
The internet? Even the vast quantity of information available to us is useless if all we do is sit there dumbly refreshing forums every two minutes hoping someone's admired us for our obvious insight.
Until our brains evolve sufficiently to let us view the world in a more all-encompassing way, I'll waive my right to brandish my opinions or flaunt my often erroneous ideas.
In the meantime, you'll forgive me if I don't care about your fucking cocks.

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7 - Third clarinet

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