Sharing an opinion: to unload the burden of one’s misconceptions onto somebody else.
In theory, there’s no harm in establishing one’s self-worth. The trouble is the clear bias of the one conducting the appraisal.
The practice of composing works of fiction in a variety of genres is understandable, reality itself having been confined to the one — which is to say, farce.
Inhabitants of the Dark Ages are dismissed for failing to rival the innovations produced by other, more celebrated epochs.
On the other hand, perhaps they’ve just proven more competent at hiding their affairs from that feverish voyeurism sanitized as History.
The perpetual challenge: to contemplate and relish the profound, wild novelty of my own experience while recognizing the almost total lack of interest it holds for everyone else.
A government is like a marriage: healthiest when all parties involved are equally dissatisfied.
The achievement of a civilization ought to be assessed by what percentage of its inhabitants can enjoy a drink in relative peace. Until such data is available, the employment of terms like Dark Age or Renaissance is pure vanity.