Over in the “G7B Dash B” Galaxy is a mid-sized planet where people became so desperate over their crumbling judicial structures, and their dwindling supplies of ammunition, that they began executing their philosophers by having them shot by cannon loads of poets at close range.
Just above his early-morning
bathroom mirror one chap stuck
The end has not yet come
‘til all the nuts
have worked loose.
If you invent your own world
you can also invent all the stuff
that doesn’t exist in it.
One typical chap climbed to the top of a windswept, mopped and waxed hill, and exclaimed to the heavens, “I regret, Oh Great Ones, that I have but ONE mind to offer unto thy service.” And some of the gods said to one another, “One, he did say ‘One’ didn’t he? – Jeeze, what a close call!”
In a surprising and unprecedented
move, one planet officially announced that,
“Most problems HAVE no solution.”