Theories are for Wimps

…that’s right, all theories, and all wimps!

Over in that gassy constellation near H-Sector, I hear there are plans afoot to open a “school for would-be gods,” and a memo floating about offers some insight into the present thinking regarding a potential curriculum.  Thus far, proposed courses include, “Speech Training” (with a minor in Proclamations); “Threats and Curses 101”; and on the post graduate level, “Silly Promises.”  (Oh yeah, in case you’re personally interested, the scuttle-butt further has it that you can forget any ideas of scholarships, and financial aid.)

Hey, don’t let all the ole sore heads discourage you, I say just living in the City, is cause enough to write your book.

In a certain solar system smaller than yours, but not near so far or near, there was a band of would-be cranial bandits who developed an “evolutionary spur” technique which they liked to call, “The Ouch Method,” which consisted of them going about always saying, “Ouch, Ouch!”

Outside of City affairs, anyone who would tell you all they know, would have done you no service, (and harmed your hearing in the process.)

One really ruffed-up revolutionist, just as he sat down to the day’s evening feast, would always first shoot himself.

J