Over in this other solar system, the creatures have begun receiving radio messages from the deep area of space wherein they think their gods are located, and it repeats over and over these words, “Confirm, confirm, please confirm.”
Over in the sixty-fourth-sector, at a recent social gathering, there was this one chap wandering about with a little sign nailed,(or perhaps, taped), to his forehead which said, “Part Brain: Celebrating Twenty Years In Business.”
Talking is the attempt to LEARN to talk. (I could make some related comment regarding this thing, but by the time an ordinary man might benefit there from, his time would be up.)
A chap at a near-by table, surveying the extensive smorgasbord of experiences, sweet, sour, hot, mild, complimentary, and conflicting, waved away the menu and said, “I’ll just have whatever Life’s having.”
As long as you know what you’re talking about it’s a waste of time.