Denkverbot

mativka wrote:

Gnječ wrote:i uglavnom, na staru godinu sam se sa svima posvadžao tako da nakon nove godine imam fresh start.

Sada mudrije :)

aben wrote:

* * *

Parmenides goes up to the counter. “Same as always?” asks the barista. Parmenides nods.

* * *

Pythagoras goes up to the counter and orders a caffe Americano. “Mmmmm,” he says, tasting it. “How do you guys make such good coffee?” “It’s made from the freshest beans,” the barista answers. Pythagoras screams and runs out of the store.

* * *

Thales goes up to the counter, says he’s trying to break his caffeine habit, and orders a decaf. The barista hands it to him. He takes a sip and spits it out. “Yuck!” he says. “What is this, water?”

* * *

Gottfried Leibniz goes up to the counter and orders a muffin. The barista says he’s lucky since there is only one muffin left. Isaac Newton shoves his way up to the counter, saying Leibniz cut in line and he was first. Leibniz insists that he was first. The two of them come to blows.

* * *

Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel goes up to the counter and gives a tremendously long custom order in German, specifying exactly how much of each sort of syrup he wants, various espresso shots, cream in exactly the right pattern, and a bunch of toppings, all added in a specific order at a specific temperature. The barista can’t follow him, so just gives up and hands him a small plain coffee. He walks away. The people behind him in line are very impressed with his apparent expertise, and they all order the same thing Hegel got. The barista gives each of them a small plain coffee, and they all remark on how delicious it tastes and what a remarkable coffee connoisseur that Hegel is. “The Hegel” becomes a new Starbucks special and is wildly popular for the next seventy years.

* * *

Socrates goes up to the counter. “What would you like?” asks the barista. “What would you recommend?” asks Socrates. “I would go with the pumpkin spice latte,” says the barista. “Why?” asks Socrates. “It’s seasonal,” she answers. “But why exactly is a seasonal drink better than a non-seasonal drink?” “Well,” said the barista, “I guess it helps to connect you to the rhythm of the changing seasons.” “But do you do other things to connect yourself to that rhythm?” asked Socrates. “Like wear seasonal clothing? Or read seasonal books? If not, how come it’s only drinks that are seasonal?” “I’m not sure,” says the barista. “Think about it,” says Socrates, and leaves without getting anything.

* * *

Rene Descartes goes up to the counter. “I’ll have a scone,” he says. “Would you like juice with that?” asks the barista. “I think not,” says Descartes, and he ceases to exist.

* * *

Jean-Paul Sartre goes up to the counter. “What do you want?” asks the barista. Sartre thinks for a long while. “What do? I want?” he asks, and wanders off with a dazed look on his face.

* * *

William of Occam goes up to the counter. He orders a coffee.

* * *

Adam Smith goes up to the counter. “I’ll have a muffin,” he says. “Sorry,” says the barista, “but those two are fighting over the last muffin.” She points to Leibniz and Newton, who are still beating each other up. “I’ll pay $2 more than the sticker price, and you can keep the extra,” says Smith. The barista hands him the muffin.

* * *

John Buridan goes up to the counter and stares at the menu indecisively.

* * *

Ludwig Wittgenstein goes up to the counter. “I’ll have a small toffee mocha,” he says. “We don’t have small,” says the barista. “Then what sizes do you have?” “Just tall, grande, and venti.” “Then doesn’t that make ‘tall’ a ‘small’?” “We call it tall,” says the barista. Wittgenstein pounds his fist on the counter. “Tall has no meaning separate from the way it is used! You are just playing meaningless language games!” He storms out in a huff.

* * *

St. Anselm goes up to the counter and considers the greatest coffee of which it is possible to conceive. Since existence is more perfect than nonexistence, the coffee must exist. He brings it back to his table and drinks it.

* * *

Ayn Rand goes up to the counter. “What do you want?” asks the barista. “Exactly the relevant question. As a rational human being, it is my desires that are paramount. Since as a reasoning animal I have the power to choose, and since I am not bound by any demand to subordinate my desires to that of an outside party who wishes to use force or guilt to make me sacrifice my values to their values or to the values of some purely hypothetical collective, it is what I want that is imperative in this transaction. However, since I am dealing with you, and you are also a rational human being, under capitalism we have an opportunity to mutually satisfy our values in a way that leaves both of us richer and more fully human. You participate in the project of affirming my values by providing me with the coffee I want, and by paying you I am not only incentivizing you for the transaction, but giving you a chance to excel as a human being in the field of producing coffee. You do not produce the coffee because I am demanding it, or because I will use force against you if you do not, but because it most thoroughly represents your own values, particularly the value of creation. You would not make this coffee for me if it did not serve you in some way, and therefore by satisfying my desires you also reaffirm yourself. Insofar as you make inferior coffee, I will reject it and you will go bankrupt, but insofar as your coffee is truly excellent, a reflection of the excellence in your own soul and your achievement as a rationalist being, it will attract more people to your store, you will gain wealth, and you will be able to use that wealth further in pursuit of excellence as you, rather than some bureaucracy or collective, understand it. That is what it truly means to be a superior human.” “Okay, but what do you want?” asks the barista. “Really I just wanted to give that speech,” Rand says, and leaves.

* * *

Voltaire goes up to the counter and orders an espresso. He takes it and goes to his seat. The barista politely reminds him he has not yet paid. Voltaire stays seated, saying “I believe in freedom of espresso.”

* * *

Thomas Malthus goes up to the counter and orders a muffin. The barista tells him somebody just took the last one. Malthus grumbles that the Starbucks is getting too crowded and there’s never enough food for everybody.

* * *

Immanuel Kant goes up to the counter at exactly 8:14 AM. The barista has just finished making his iced cinnamon dolce latte, and hands it to him. He sips it for eight minutes and thirty seconds, then walks out the door.

* * *

Bertrand Russell goes up to the counter and orders the Hegel. He takes one sip, then exclaims “This just tastes like plain coffee! Why is everyone making such a big deal over it?”

* * *

Pierre Proudhon goes up to the counter and orders a Tazo Green Tea with toffee nut syrup, two espresso shots, and pumpkin spice mixed in. The barista warns him that this will taste terrible. “Pfah!” scoffs Proudhon. “Proper tea is theft!”

* * *

Sigmund Freud goes up to the counter. “I’ll have ass sex, presto,” he says. “What?!” asks the barista. “I said I’ll have iced espresso.” “Oh,” said the barista. “For a moment I misheard you.” “Yeah,” Freud tells her. “I fucked my mother. People say that.” “WHAT?!” asks the barista. “I said, all of the time other people say that.”

* * *

Jeremy Bentham goes up to the counter, holding a $50 bill. “What’s the cheapest drink you have?” he asks. “That would be our decaf roast, for only $1.99,” says the barista. “Good,” says Bentham and hands her the $50. “I’ll buy those for the next twenty-five people who show up.”

* * *

Patricia Churchland walks up to the counter and orders a latte. She sits down at a table and sips it. “Are you enjoying your beverage?” the barista asks. “No,” says Churchland.

* * *

Friedrich Nietzsche goes up to the counter. “I’ll have a scone,” he says. “Would you like juice with that?” asks the barista. “No, I hate juice,” says Nietzsche. The barista misinterprets him as saying “I hate Jews”, so she kills all the Jews in Europe

Guest wrote:

I'm back.

HVALA!

sad dođoh i vidim ovo. to moram skinšotat i pohranit u pismohranu.

opet me ova luda Ra navukla da se opet i opet registriram na ovaj šugavi forum.

da, sve je istina što si napisala. jedino neznaš da sam sa U. proboravio cijelo popodne na aerodromu dok je njoj stigla gvozdena ptica a onda do grada mi je bila cijela avantura dva dana bez sna dođem u pivnicu po jučerašnje poglotke puna borša teška ko smrt i teglim ti ja to i onda u plodinama naručim pivo i zaspem na terasi nisam mogao ni naprijed ni nazad ljeto pun kurac ljudi nitko da me pita jel mi šta treba mogo sam umrit na toj jebenoj ustaškoj terasi. na žalost svih ustašofilnih i klerofašističkih rvata nisam umro snašo sam se sam nisam bezveze išo na one NNNI akcije.

ja sam ružno pače. tko nije shvatio neće nikad ni shvatiti. jel netko shvatio što je tu pisac htio reći? jes moj kurac.


još sam nešto htio dobroga reć ali zbog zuba vremena i zbog zubobolje koja me sad jebe mi je promaklo i otišlo u nepovrat...

uglavnom, svima sretna nova godina i nemojte se zajebavat imate samo jedan život i nakon toga prc. nema ni raja ni pakla samo vječno spavanje. dakle, nemojte raditi drugima ono što ne želite da drugi rade vama i što je još bitnije, radite drugima ono što drugi rade vama ali tako da ne riskirate zatvor....hmmmm....

Guest wrote:di je Ra? namamila me na forum i otišla kuvat sarmu.

kic wrote:
reading this article — opens you up to hypothetical punishment from the hypothetical superintelligence.

fuck

abene pusi k :D

kic wrote:
terminator prosirio opseg

mativka wrote:Ma, svi p..... k....:)!

Kakav dan, kakav dan?!

Evo rezime dana koji je vrijedan pamćenja:

Poput svih onih koji drže do tradicije i ja sam jutros dočekala svećenika za blagoslov. 
Izlazila sam svako malo na balkon i s upaljenom svijećom iščekivala kada će se pojaviti na mojim vratima i unijeti prekrasnu svećanost u moj dom.
Dočekala sam s nekom neizrecivom radošću...
Pojavio se on...isti onaj koji je i prošle godine bio. Nabacila sam koju šalu ali i nisu bile nešto uspješne. Pitao me: volite li Vi čitati?
Reko: naravno.
Kaže: uzmite ovaj papir i izaberite nešto što ćete pročitati kada Vam kažem. 
Pomislih: vuhuuuu, na mom je terenu :) Bacih oko na odlomke i vidim - Pjesmu nad pjesmama...to je ono što znam gotovo na pamet..čekam taj trenutak nakon molitve da pokažem svoje umijeće..
Došao taj trenutak, ja pročitala s neopisivim žarom, i muk...(sebično sam očekivala pohvale), kad li je uslijedilo pitanje svećenika: sjećate li se što sam Vas upitao prošle godine?
Ja zbunjeno: Neee,..  a, Vi se sjećate?!
Kaže on: Da! Pitao sam Vas idete li redovito na mise i rekli ste da ne, također ste rekli da ćete u sljedećoj krenuti..pa, jeste li?
Reko (posramljeno): bila sam jednom, jel se to broji?! :)
Bio je u tom trenutku grub prema meni, a ja prema njemu...upustili se u filozofske rasprave...gdje je jedno drugo pokušalo uvjeriti u svoj stav..i trajalo je to...
Ispružila sam mu priređeni novac (nije baš tako malo bilo)..a on je rekao:
Ne želim uzeti novac, ono što od Vas želim je da odete na misu i taj novac date za milostinju...

Ostala sam potresena, i s nadom u bolje sutra..

aben wrote:

mativka wrote:Ma, svi p..... k....:)!

Kakav dan, kakav dan?!

Evo rezime dana koji je vrijedan pamćenja:

Poput svih onih koji drže do tradicije i ja sam jutros dočekala svećenika za blagoslov. 
Izlazila sam svako malo na balkon i s upaljenom svijećom iščekivala kada će se pojaviti na mojim vratima i unijeti prekrasnu svećanost u moj dom.
Dočekala sam s nekom neizrecivom radošću...
Pojavio se on...isti onaj koji je i prošle godine bio. Nabacila sam koju šalu ali i nisu bile nešto uspješne. Pitao me: volite li Vi čitati?
Reko: naravno.
Kaže: uzmite ovaj papir i izaberite nešto što ćete pročitati kada Vam kažem. 
Pomislih: vuhuuuu, na mom je terenu :) Bacih oko na odlomke i vidim - Pjesmu nad pjesmama...to je ono što znam gotovo na pamet..čekam taj trenutak nakon molitve da pokažem svoje umijeće..
Došao taj trenutak, ja pročitala s neopisivim žarom, i muk...(sebično sam očekivala pohvale), kad li je uslijedilo pitanje svećenika: sjećate li se što sam Vas upitao prošle godine?
Ja zbunjeno: Neee,..  a, Vi se sjećate?!
Kaže on: Da! Pitao sam Vas idete li redovito na mise i rekli ste da ne, također ste rekli da ćete u sljedećoj krenuti..pa, jeste li?
Reko (posramljeno): bila sam jednom, jel se to broji?! :)
Bio je u tom trenutku grub prema meni, a ja prema njemu...upustili se u filozofske rasprave...gdje je jedno drugo pokušalo uvjeriti u svoj stav..i trajalo je to...
Ispružila sam mu priređeni novac (nije baš tako malo bilo)..a on je rekao:
Ne želim uzeti novac, ono što od Vas želim je da odete na misu i taj novac date za milostinju...

Ostala sam potresena, i s nadom u bolje sutra..

koliko love si tila dati?

mativka wrote:

Ostala sam potresena, i s nadom u bolje sutra..