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Probably the first rule of any fundraising campaign is to be sure that the people you're soliciting money from don't already hate you. It's way easier to raise money for something like spaying and neutering dogs if you're the local humane society as opposed to, say, a group of skinheads.
Still, some folks try to be a little crafty with who they are and what they're doing when it comes to raising money. You may be wondering just what sort of lowlife would omit important details like who was running a fundraiser. The answer, of course, is Scientologists.—Cracked on a major Scientology fundraiser in 2007
Proteus: This guy has the right idea with running into walls, makes me want to bash my head into a wall.
You fling the book on the floor, you would hurl it out the window, even the closed window, through the slats of the Venetian blinds; let them shred its incongruous quires, let sentences, words, morphemes, phonemes gush forth, beyond recomposition into discourse; through the panes, and if they are of unbreakable glass then so much the better, hurl the book and reduce it to photons, undulatory vibrations, polarized spectra; through the wall, let the book crumble into molecules and atoms passing between atom and atom of the reinforced concrete, breaking up into electrons, neutrons, neutrinos, elementary particles more and more minute; through the telephone wires, let it be reduced to electronic impulses, into flow of information, shaken by redundancies and noises and let it be degraded into swirling entropy. You would like to throw it out of the house, out of the block, beyond the neighborhood, beyond the city limits, beyond the state confines, beyond the regional administration, beyond the national community, beyond the Common Market, beyond Western culture, beyond the continental shelf, beyond the atmosphere, the biosphere, the stratosphere, the field of gravity, the solar system, the galaxy, the cumulus of galaxies, to succeed in hurling it beyond the point the galaxies have reached in their expansion, where space-time has not yet arrived, where it would be received by nonbeing, or, rather, the not-being which never has and will never be, to be lost in the most absolutely guaranteed undeniable negativity. Merely what it deserves, neither more nor less.
Superman: Wh-wh-who are you?'Superman: It's also highly confusing, since it has nothing to do with the Kraptonite that caused my condition in the first place!
Clark Kent: I am the inherent "GOOD" in you, Stuporman! I am going to fight you for your soul!
Clark Kent: This scene is highly symbolic!
"Oh look, here's one of my sacred cows, okay? To me, Indiana Jones is made of a secret blend of eleven types of awesome. And I'll even go on record and say that I really liked Indy 4. But I'm also going to admit that when he used a refrigerator to survive an atomic blast, my jaw dropped open at how absurd it was. Yeah, I liked this movie, I loved this movie. But that scene was just stupid!"—Chuck Sonnenberg, Sci Fi Debris
"You know, you can really tell a substandard coffee table by the way it starts to crack after twenty or thirty skull-bashings."
"Are you fucking kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?! This is a load of Bullshit!"—Dracula, A Day in Dracula's Life