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368 lines
7.9 KiB
Text
368 lines
7.9 KiB
Text
.LP
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.ce
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.ps 16
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.CW
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TRY MY PRODUCT
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.R
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.ps 8
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.CW
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tags: 1979, coca_cola, do_wuh, motherfucker, perpetrator
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.R
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.PP
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.ps 10
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The airbrushed cover was decidedly inferior to what Motherfucker
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had seen before, attached to other printings of the same book. It was
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outlandish. All swaddling clothes and taut, glistening muscles.
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Objectifying the physiques that would result from pious observance,
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appealing to the vanity of practitioners who were required, by
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tradition and by law, to study it. Transparent ableism. This kind of
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self\-aggrandizing marketing disgusted him. Gazing upon its cover, it
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was hard for Motherfucker to take the book seriously.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Well, don't just sit there, all slack\-jawed, however arresting
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that dust jacket might be...
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.I
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Open the blessed book
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.R
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and let's get
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started."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Perpetrator adopted an instructional tone, as if to communicate
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that Motherfucker's own study habits were somehow deficient, would
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somehow land him in hot water. He was always prepared to dispense
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advice to his lessers. In this case, the advice involved the
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interpretation of the Bible, and the careful application of those
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interpretations to the logical conundrums that permeated modern life.
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Perpetrator was only a couple of months older than Motherfucker. He
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was a total spamhole.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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.I
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"That's
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.R
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not what the book says
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.I
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at all,"
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.R
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complained Motherfucker.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Perpetrator indicated the text with his finger. "You're wrong. It's
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right there on the page in front of you. Just look at the words."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Yes, my eyes were directed at this material during the process of
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forming my initial assessment," sighed Motherfucker.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Well, one couldn't tell from hearing you recite it."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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The pages dissolved into one another. Motherfucker couldn't sustain
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his focus. He wondered briefly why the long lists of telephone numbers
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that comprised this part of the Scriptures featured variable font
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sizes, brilliant piping and color illustrations. Why all the fuss?
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Perpetrator, what is the point of these chapters that are mainly
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just lists of telephone numbers and advertisements for insurance
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agents?"
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Motherfucker, those are the
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.I
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Sanctified Tribes of the Green.
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.R
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Your
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remarks are veering dangerously close to blasphemy. Why do you have to
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question every last detail, when it comes to our studies? Not
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.I
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everything
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.R
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is a conspiracy!"
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Motherfucker sighed again. "It all just seems so arbitrary. Like
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they've gone and copied pages out of an old telephone directory and
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called it Scripture."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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.I
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"Naturally
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.R
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that is what it
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.I
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seems
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.R
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like, Motherfucker, for that is
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precisely what they've done."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"..."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"What," asked Perpetrator, finally and honestly befuddled. "You
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didn't know?"
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"What do you
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.I
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mean
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.R
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what?" asked Motherfucker.
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.I
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"Why
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.R
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did they copy
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pages out of an old telephone directory and call it Scripture?"
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Because, Motherfucker, these manuscripts are
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.I
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illuminated."
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.R
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"..."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Look at the section headings. See how the Tribes are organized
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according to service offerings, then alphabetized? These illustrations
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are graphical elements that illuminate the organization of the data.
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It renders the information discernible at a glance."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"..."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Still you do not comprehend."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"No, I'm afraid I don't."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Perpetrator stalled for several seconds, allowing time for the the
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new concepts to sink into Motherfucker's mind.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Minutes passed.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Wait. Oh.
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.I
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Now
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.R
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I see," claimed Motherfucker. "They're not so old
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as to be presented as text\-only, like the original Scriptures. These
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pages contain source code and meta data."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"That is correct."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"I guess that makes sense."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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.I
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"Good,
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.R
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Motherfucker," said Perpetrator. "Now we're making
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progress!"
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.PP
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.ps 10
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But Motherfucker still seemed to be confused.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"We've wasted enough time on the display elements. Please return to
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the previous chapter and read aloud."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Son of a bitch. You
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.I
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know
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.R
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I'm not comfortable reading aloud."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Okay then,
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.I
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I
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.R
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will read aloud to
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.I
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you,"
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.R
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resolved Perpetrator,
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training his standard, disdainful stare into the pupils of
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Motherfucker's eyes.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Throat cleared, he began.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Newton wrote:
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.QP
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.ps 8
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.CW
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...rational mechanics will be the science of motion resulting from
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any forces whatsoever, and of the forces required to produce any
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motion ... and therefore I offer this work as the mathematical
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principles of philosophy, for the whole burden of philosophy seems to
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consist in this from the phenomena of motions to investigate the
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forces of nature, and then from these forces to demonstrate the other
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phenomena...
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.R
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.ps 10
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.LP
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Yeah, right," said Motherfucker.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"What, you don't
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.I
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believe
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.R
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him? Here, what do the footnotes say?"
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.QP
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.ps 8
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.CW
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From this proposition it will follow, when arithmetical addition has
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been defined, that 1 + 1 = 2.
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.R
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.ps 10
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.LP
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"It also says that the text in question wasn't always a part of
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this chapter," finished Motherfucker.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Honestly! And what year was this edition sourced?"
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Pages flipped backwards.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Twenty thirty\-one. According to the information in the front."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Then you see what I mean."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"No, not really."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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It was going to be a long night.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Presently, Do Wuh entered the room, disrupting their studies. He
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was a bit dirty from tumbling in the yard, and Perpetrator recoiled
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visibly when at last he came fully into view.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Do Wuh."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Motherfucker, put that book down and let's go outside and play."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Do Wuh." Perpetrator spoke the name more stiffly this time, as if
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it were an accusation rather than an identity. His face contorted
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menacingly, seeming very serious indeed.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Shut up, Perp," cracked Do Wuh. "Motherfucker, seriously, I'm sick
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of this spam. Why don't you come outside with the rest of us."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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.I
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"Oh, but to journey through the out of doors,"
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.R
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lamented
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Motherfucker, glancing woefully at Perpetrator. "Perhaps we should
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take the book outside, so we can all consult the rules if such a thing
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becomes necessary."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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A delicious pause.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"That's a good idea," nodded Perpetrator, his incessant,
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condescending glare now softening, owing to the fact that he was
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outnumbered. In spite of the rigid persona he projected, he knew when
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an argument was a lost cause. Besides, it was more likely that the
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others would stumble into diligent study if he and Motherfucker first
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worked to gain their respect by participating in their aimless,
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physical games.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Whatever," said Do Wuh. "You two are going to go blind, sitting in
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here playing with that book all the time."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Unlikely," remarked Perpetrator.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Actually, that's a myth," offered Motherfucker.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Do Wuh slammed the door on his way out.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Outside, lawnmowers hovered in the distance. Uh Huh and Coca Cola
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were already on the field, caked with dirt. It behooved Perpetrator to
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comment on their slovenly appearance.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Those are your good clothes, are they not?"
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Shut up, Perp," said Coca Cola.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Okay, there's five of us here and we only need four. Perp, you're
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out."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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.I
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"I
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.R
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didn't want to play in the
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.I
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first
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.R
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place!"
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Then everybody wins," said Coca Cola, laughing.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Perpetrator sat down with his book and began to leaf through its
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pages, focusing intently on the text. He de\-fogged his glasses with
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the corner of his shirt and chewed his fingernail as he read.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Spam them all. I'm studying!" he thought.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Indeed," replied a voice that wasn't there.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Perpetrator's eyes grew large as the gold DAYTONS\f(CW™\fR on his father's
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IMPALA\f(CW™\fR.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Intriguing," he thought to himself, and continued with his reading
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of the Scriptures.
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