Lord Kelvins humble page
><> Well, im finally a researcher. ><>
This has been a dream of mine for quite long.
Im not sure what to type here, wether it's my goals of life, or
my dedication to the researching.
Im gonna leave the rest blank for a while, and think of something really clever to write here. Hm... that will probably never happen, because all of my thougts and ideas, will probably send me to a mental institution if i type it down here, for everybody to see.
Well, i'll end this nonsence of mine, by quoting a GREAT book, that im sure almost everybody who reads this, have read.
This is pretty much a good description, on how slow things can float around in my head, before i draw a conclusion. Enjoy:
"At eight o'clock on Thursday morning Arthur didn't feel very
good. He woke up blearily, got up, wandered blearily round his
room, opened a window, saw a bulldozer, found his slippers, and
stomped off to the bathroom to wash.
Toothpaste on the brush - so. Scrub.
Shaving mirror - pointing at the ceiling. He adjusted it. For a
moment it reflected a second bulldozer through the bathroom
window. Properly adjusted, it reflected Arthur Dent's bristles.
He shaved them off, washed, dried, and stomped off to the kitchen
to find something pleasant to put in his mouth.
Kettle, plug, fridge, milk, coffee. Yawn.
The word bulldozer wandered through his mind for a moment in
search of something to connect with.
The bulldozer outside the kitchen window was quite a big one.
He stared at it.
"Yellow," he thought and stomped off back to his bedroom to get
dressed.
Passing the bathroom he stopped to drink a large glass of water,
and another. He began to suspect that he was hung over. Why was
he hung over? Had he been drinking the night before? He supposed
that he must have been. He caught a glint in the shaving mirror.
"Yellow," he thought and stomped on to the bedroom.
He stood and thought. The pub, he thought. Oh dear, the pub. He
vaguely remembered being angry, angry about something that seemed
important. He'd been telling people about it, telling people
about it at great length, he rather suspected: his clearest
visual recollection was of glazed looks on other people's faces.
Something about a new bypass he had just found out about. It had
been in the pipeline for months only no one seemed to have known
about it. Ridiculous. He took a swig of water. It would sort
itself out, he'd decided, no one wanted a bypass, the council
didn't have a leg to stand on. It would sort itself out.
God what a terrible hangover it had earned him though. He looked
at himself in the wardrobe mirror. He stuck out his tongue.
"Yellow," he thought. The word yellow wandered through his mind
in search of something to connect with."
(This is of course from the beginning of the great book: Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy)
Pretty amasingly described, if you ask me. ;-)
Here's a link to a great page: http://home.sol.no/~tompauls" >http://home.sol.no/~tompauls 8-)
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Lord Kelvin
Researcher U109127
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"The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is a wholly remarkable book. It has been compiled and recompiled many times and under many different editorships. It contains contributions from countless numbers of travellers and researchers."