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Finding Beauty in the Dissonance

There Was a Time That the Pieces Fit

Created on 2001-02-28 03:22:49 (#65645), last updated 2009-12-22

3,034 comments received, 1,895 comments posted

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Woe to you, oh Earth and Sea. For the Devil sends the Beast with wrath, because he knows the time is short. Let him who hath understanding reckon the number of the Beast. For it is a human number. Its number is six hundred and sixty-six.






It's better to be hated for who you are than loved for who you are not.




You read the Bible? There's a passage I got memorized, Ezekiel 25:17.

"The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he, who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness. For he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know I am the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you."

Now, I been sayin' that shit for years. And if you ever heard it, it meant your ass. I never really questioned what it meant. I thought it was just a cold-blooded thing to say to a mother-fucker 'fore you popped a cap in his ass. But I saw some shit this mornin' made me think twice.

Now, I'm thinkin', it could mean you're the evil man. And I'm the righteous man. And Mister .45 here, he's the shepherd protecting my righteous ass in the valley of darkness. Or, it could be you're the righteous man and I'm the shepherd and it's the world that's evil and selfish. I'd like that. But that shit ain't the truth. The truth is: you're the weak. And I'm the tyranny of evil men. But I'm tryin', Ringo. I'm tryin' real hard to be the shepherd.





Out of the night that covers me,
       Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
       For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
       I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
       My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
       Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
       Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
       How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
       I am the captain of my soul.


--Invictus - William Ernest Henley
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