Eight Hour Shift

Out in the populace, anyone who sincerely says, “Now I'm beginning to catch on!” ain’t.

Perhaps not the world's most pressing question, but still a question is:  Who is entitled to the security deposit when you leave your old chemical neighborhood?

And-Yet-Another-Example-Of-3-D-Progress, (or something): 

A palace guard announced that he “neither saw, nor experienced anything” during his previous night's eight hour shift, but that he was able to accomplish the same this evening in only five hours.

After two years of heated discussions and far-reaching proposals, and after eighteen months of intense investigation by three “blue ribbon committees,” The State's Intellectuals have firmly announced the specific and official location of dirt.

If special perception was the spice of human consciousness, just think what bland dishes most brains would be.

In a certain small town, the local sage (or at least the closest the poor folks could afford), believed himself to be grossly unappreciated, and swore he would leave them forever if they did not collect for him a thousand dollars within the week.  After seven days had passed, he solemnly repeated his demand to the mayor who said, “We've only been able to get a dollar forty-nine.”  And the sage said, “Close enough.”

The one thing an ordinary person cannot do is apparently tell what they truly seem to be inside.  (And of course, an extraordinary person never tries.)

J.