We won't insult you with a sales pitch. Buzz Jackson, inventor of the PACKET DIDDLER, wouldn't let us insult
you with a sales pitch, although we begged him to.
No.
Do you sometimes think "Golly, I shouldn't have done it *that* way?"
IT PACKET DIDDLER will ensure you never do it *that* way again
Do you sometimes wonder how your life might have gone if you hadn't bunged everything up?
IT PACKET DIDDLER will put your life back on track
You, being a man, a woman, or a man/woman, depending on how you want to identify yourself - it's up to you.
Just like the PACKET DIDDLER is up to you.
It's up to you to embrace the future or flee from it.
It's up to you to seize an opportunity or turn numbly away.
It's up to you to fight like a lion or tremble like a newborn gerbil whose mother is swallowing him whole
It's up to you to reach for the stars, or to crawl back under the grease stained pile of pizza boxes in your living room
It's up to you to take fame and riches when they are dangled in front of your face, or to go scamper around the basement with
all your filthy eight legged cohorts
It's up to you to become a veritable god among men, or to fling yourself back into whatever dessicated
carcass you pupated in you worthless sack of filth
It's up to you.
Make a choice. Make a choice right now. Go on.... Here's a link for you, go on , click it - this is your future.
Once you hit this link, you will see your life for what it is and for what it could be.
OR ARE YOU AFRAID?
That's OK. Its OK to be afraid. But when you are living in a soot covered tenement, eating stray cats and
dodging stray bullets because you haven't a dime to your name, won't you be more afraid then?
WON'T YOU BE MORE AFRAID THEN?
Just make a choice. Take a chance.
It's up to you.
We'll give you two choices, because it's up to you:
Yes, show me the future! The IT PACKET DIDDLER awaits.
No, Please just let me wallow in my own banality like a pig in dung
The religious tendency of Seneca’s philosophy appears rather in his psychology than in his metaphysics, in the stress which he lays on human immortality rather than in his discussions on creation and divine providence. His statements on this subject are not, indeed, very consistent, death being sometimes spoken of as the end of consciousness, and at other times, as the beginning of a new life, the ‘birthday of eternity,’ to quote a phrase afterwards adopted by Christian preachers. Nor can we be absolutely certain that the promised eternity is not merely another way of expressing the soul’s absorption into and identification with the fiery element whence it was originally derived. This, however, is an ambiguity to be met with in other doctrines of a spiritual existence after death, nor is it entirely absent from the language even of Christian theologians. What deserves attention is that, whether the future life spoken of by Seneca be taken in a literal or in a figurative sense, it is equally intended to lead our thoughts away from the world of sensible experience to a more ideal order of things; and, to that extent, it falls in with the more general religious movement of the age. Whether Zeller is, for that reason, justified in speaking of him as a Platonising Stoic seems more questionable; for the Stoics always agreed with Plato in holding that the soul is distinct from and superior to the body, and that it is consubstantial with the animating principle of Nature. The same circumstances which were elsewhere leading to a revival of Platonism, equally tended to develope this side of Stoicism, but it seems needless to seek for a closer connexion between the two phenomena.376 He failed in the warning. He had barely gotten off the reservation before Geronimo and Nachez and their sympathizers broke out and started to reach again that fastness in the Sierra Madre from which they had been routed two years before. But he succeeded without the least difficulty in obtaining the position of chief of scouts. As the Deacon pondered over the matter in the early morning hours, he saw that his only chance of getting the horse back was to start with him before daylight revealed him to the men in camp. When beat the drums at dead of night, And he raised his right hand in testimony. But no man on Fruyling's World could see the Alberts without preconceptions. They were not Alberts: they were slaves, as the men were masters. And slavery, named and accepted, has traditionally been harder on the master than the slave. "Then why do the masters not push the buttons?" Marvor said. It was an ultimatum, and Cadnan understood what was behind it. But an attraction between Dara and himself ... he said: "There is the rule of the tree," but it was like casting water on steel. Chapter 12 The fields were very dark in their low corners, only their high sweeps shimmered in the ghostly lemon glow. Out of the rabbit-warrens along the hedges, from the rims of the woods, ran the rabbits to scuttle and play. Bessie and Robert saw the bob of their white tails through the dusk, and now and then a little long-eared shape. Chapter 13 "F?ather!" cried Pete, "you can't turn him out lik this." "And you w?an't, nuther," said Pete, soothing him. "What mean you, woman?" quickly returned De Boteler; "do you accuse the keeper of my chase as having plotted against your son, or whom do you suspect?" "No, not a syllable;" replied Calverley in almost a fever of excitement, "but be quick, and say what you know?" HoME一级老王免费AV
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