Bus Stop

When everything
looks the same
the bus has
made a stop.



Several years hence, I ran across a splinter group whose adhesives believed thusly:  “A ‘good’ man will not recognize himself in the dark.”



(Here is another of those quasi-useless Test Questions):

Can you see in the following a blatant, though fugitive, non-negative facet?
“Just because someone offers to help
doesn’t mean they CAN help.”



In a subversive camp I passed through one week, I saw the following note pinned to a tree near the latrine, it said, “If you find yourself being serious about some particular something, go on and be real serious, and if you do get ‘real serious,’ go ahead and get rat-assed-SUPER-serious, and if you get that serious about it, and you are a Real Revolutionist at least by then you’ll have had a good laugh.”



On this one mid-sized, pretty hospitable world I visited, they have a certain interesting dynamic:  When confronted with something they can’t control or comprehend, they declare “war” on it.