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"corollary" poems
‘I am…’ 'Or am I’? Who can say? ‘A posteriori’ leads the way For the extra and the ordinary Axiomatic sway, In the gravity of corollary, ‘A priori’ interplay Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation, As the innocence of dissonance delay. Practicing semantic contemplation, In willfully prevenient interpolation, Civilly disobedient in expediently seeming disarray, Forecasts in vague extrapolation Contrasts the millennial contagion Already underway, Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves, To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves, A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves, Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves, Inflating linguistics in acrobatic raves, A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves. The probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates, An apperceived inquirer of qualitative states, Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates. Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates, Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates, Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates. An escaped prisoner from depressive disillusion, Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion, The personable recluse fighting an illusion Breaking down the nuances of every institution. Calculating consequence as time goes to infinity Revolutionary commonsense of principal utility, An opinionated adversary, to the realist without evidence, Theorizing in futility, Stipulating every sense leading to the virility of the pretense that dominates community. Divergently converging all the efforts we’ve personified, Inadvertently submerging old traditions that unethically were codified, Hastening the urgency for purging that which cannot be modified through the merging of the certainty that will no longer coincide, Stationing the levies to finally stem the tide, Of periodic enmities disguised to be necessities so blatantly deified. Observing moral sentiments, perched upon eternity, As consequential regiments are expounded universally, To unstratify the residents indiscriminately And identify quantum elements spiritualistically, Changing collective behavior individually, Socializing constructs in joint ventured logo therapy.
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Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 8:07 AM UTC
Paradoxical Tendencies
‘I am…’ 'Or am I’? Who can say? ‘A posteriori’ leads the way For the extra and the ordinary Axiomatic sway, In the gravity of corollary, ‘A priori’ interplay Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation, As the innocence of dissonance delay. Practicing semantic contemplation, In willfully prevenient interpolation, Civilly disobedient in expediently seeming disarray, Forecasts in vague extrapolation Contrasts the millennial contagion Already underway, Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves, To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves, A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves, Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves, Inflating linguistics in acrobatic raves, A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves. The probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates, An apperceived inquirer of qualitative states, Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates. Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates, Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates, Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates. An escaped prisoner from depressive disillusion, Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion, The personable recluse fighting an illusion Breaking down the nuances of every institution. Calculating consequence as time goes to infinity Revolutionary commonsense of principal utility, An opinionated adversary, to the realist without evidence, Theorizing in futility, Stipulating every sense leading to the virility of the pretense that dominates community. Divergently converging all the efforts we’ve personified, Inadvertently submerging old traditions that unethically were codified, Hastening the urgency for purging that which cannot be modified through the merging of the certainty that will no longer coincide, Stationing the levies to finally stem the tide, Of periodic enmities disguised to be necessities so blatantly deified. Observing moral sentiments, perched upon eternity, As consequential regiments are expounded universally, To unstratify the residents indiscriminately And identify quantum elements spiritualistically, Changing collective behavior individually, Socializing constructs in joint ventured logo therapy.
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A rose is active in the storm, Its smell is an unexplainable redolence It thrives to flourish. A rose will wither away inside a crystal vase or on firm ground. A liquid substance is necessary to live and to rise, just like He rose. I wish to know the first time you blushed. I wish I were there to pick you up when you fell as a child for the first time, and leaves fell to the ground. I wish I were there the moment petals where stripped away from your body. I wish to see you speak with radiant tenderness. Your words and syllabus pierced through doors, doors that were permanently locked in the heart of stone. Meanwhile, I am just an ovule wishing to respond in a corollary way that slowly grows in a dark world but like you rose I will rise.
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Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 1:04 PM UTC
Rose
Billionaire: I were                     been Corollary,                        at the party,                                 and petition,                                 where populism,                             there is no discussion,                                    and abolished                                                                           and the average,                                        the epicurean scenes,                                                                                    beloved my testamentary,                                                and I partisan,                                                   and                            raw balance of my profits,                                                  and       my diploma,                                                          my university triumphs,                                                               I am the planetary star,                                                                skin and clothing                                                                     protozoan,                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   Legionnaire
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Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 11:01 AM UTC
Been Corollary
Billionaire: I were                     been Corollary,                        at the party,                                 and petition,                                 where populism,                             there is no discussion,                                    and abolished                                                                           and the average,                                        the epicurean scenes,                                                                                    beloved my testamentary,                                                and I partisan,                                                   and                            raw balance of my profits,                                                  and       my diploma,                                                          my university triumphs,                                                               I am the planetary star,                                                                skin and clothing                                                                     protozoan,                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   Legionnaire
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'LOVE IS BLIND'? 'Love is blind'? what nonsense! then how come we have 'love at first sight'? Shakespeare in one sentence had hoodwinked us since 1616 true, he wrote great drama and poetry but we must note he didn't study medicine nor opthalmology and mind you we are living in the 21st century with all the science and technology surely it would be the greatest folly to just quote the bard's cliche blindly the eyes have it ask the ophthalmologist without the eyes the lover would not see beauty and as a corollary how could you love somebody if in the first instance you were blind id est--you couldn't see! careful, so careful we must all be to differentiate between reality and the ranting of silly poetry if this myth were to perpetuate nilly-willy mankind would look really silly that would look good not even to the slightest degree and one more thing please bear with me and this is the bard's secret history he had chancre--venereal ulcer for which he received treatment could he have written 'Love is blind' being affected by that odious malady? London's brothels he did visit frequently when he was away from Stratford-upon-Avon he drank a lot too--there is ample evidence he also had anasarca (oh mercy!) result of mercury-related membranous nephropathy ( we shall not defile him further- but his alopecia was due to treatment of mercury for his syphilis---what a medical litany!) in conclusion we could somehow see that England's greatest writer was not as bright as he had been taken to be.
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Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 10:25 PM UTC
'LOVE IS BLIND'?
'LOVE IS BLIND'? 'Love is blind'? what nonsense! then how come we have 'love at first sight'? Shakespeare in one sentence had hoodwinked us since 1616 true, he wrote great drama and poetry but we must note he didn't study medicine nor opthalmology and mind you we are living in the 21st century with all the science and technology surely it would be the greatest folly to just quote the bard's cliche blindly the eyes have it ask the ophthalmologist without the eyes the lover would not see beauty and as a corollary how could you love somebody if in the first instance you were blind id est--you couldn't see! careful, so careful we must all be to differentiate between reality and the ranting of silly poetry if this myth were to perpetuate nilly-willy mankind would look really silly that would look good not even to the slightest degree and one more thing please bear with me and this is the bard's secret history he had chancre--venereal ulcer for which he received treatment could he have written 'Love is blind' being affected by that odious malady? London's brothels he did visit frequently when he was away from Stratford-upon-Avon he drank a lot too--there is ample evidence he also had anasarca (oh mercy!) result of mercury-related membranous nephropathy ( we shall not defile him further- but his alopecia was due to treatment of mercury for his syphilis---what a medical litany!) in conclusion we could somehow see that England's greatest writer was not as bright as he had been taken to be.
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coronavirus coronary episode— coroner report © 2020 Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
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May 13, 2020
May 13, 2020 at 11:12 PM UTC
corollary
The world is full of fools’ theory Listening to them I feel weary. Such egoistic heads tell not to worry And at our back talk oscillatory Bad about us, creating a crematory Where they bury their own glory. They have a bad attitude of sanatory Coward, showy, deceitful, predatory. The world is full of fools’ theory Listening to them I feel weary. I too had such a mad hoary Who was ready with an itinerary, Where all bad & deceit come corollary As she had a base habit of obfuscatory. She knew less concepts contemporary And thought herself vital primary. The world is full of fools’ theory Listening to them I feel weary. Would always ask if I hunky-dory? We knew those emotions were vapory – Happy, then sad, angry then nugatory! Her emotions changed as witch’s allegory, Hate, spurn, prune are her favourite mandatory: Now singly fights with colleagues hortatory; Alas! Does not know her faults & category. Listening to them I feel weary. Would always ask if hunky-dory? At first I tried to be a promontory So that I can save her crematory; Blind with pride, less corroboratory, She spurned me having derogatory. Now also I pity her as she is a hoary But wish she improves her oratory.
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Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 8:52 PM UTC
Monorhyme on Egoistic Head
A rabid ****** with a fix from hell tumbled into sleep then death she fell In her head it was hopeless her heart a broken harp arm an open wound her life tragic art Poisonous mush was relieving better than so called love pin ****** kept her breathing the past weighed too much On such a day I feel sorry she never stood a chance addiction was the corollary of the waltz she had to dance
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Apr 2, 2018
Apr 2, 2018 at 11:10 AM UTC
Junk
(Leeza, my roommate Lisa’s little sister, was off-tha-hook earlier this summer) thirteen peach flesh fabuk buster nu-metal priss sexless ******* bitten fingernails ***** babyskin feet mirror mesmerized straight-eyed honesty grouchapottamus without analysis corollary sister wide eyed hot mess skinny pacer bella doe
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Jul 23, 2023
Jul 23, 2023 at 10:27 PM UTC
Leeza
https://www.facebook.com/isconnectivityahumanright well done Mr. Zuckerberg, but just to colorize your noble intent with a corollary, a lump of coal, for you, from my colliery, so too, is my human right to disconnect, reject, if my privacy abused, not yours to take and trash my human connectivity far greater value on any scale, than your smart/good/profit intentions to expand your product's universe keep in mind that in my version of the small print, is writ: *what's mine is not yours to mine with reckless disregard, though you couch your takings so nicely and legal my right to live free, to disconnect, ever present, and oft considered, for the gluten of life is in the voice, the real touch, not in the adverts so cleverly engineered, to insert* regarding Facebook, I query daily, is this time spent of true worth, the wheat, the whole grains of life too oft lost, suffocated by the voluminous and volubly trash, by the unending absorbing waterfall of "I didn't need to know that" for now, Mr. Mark, just keep this in mind, one of my social curation skills, on my settings tab inserted, is one listed as nuclear, a/k/a bye-bye
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Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 8:31 AM UTC
Hey Mark Zuckerberg: Is Connectivity a Human Right?
Many times, You have said vociferously; ......for all success and in all failure, faith is the key. And many times, I have tried to reason against the equation of ritual and religion. But, in the fashion world of materialist-spiritualism, where majority conforms to modern tradition, I have often found it convenient to ignore the dictates of reason and still more convenient to believe in the corollary; ......faith is the key. Therefore, I have mostly believed, ......in your faith and in your prayers ......for me.
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Nov 13, 2019
Nov 13, 2019 at 11:16 AM UTC
Belief
Stay calm and quiet, while the voice within bids you riot. Though of the lies you're thoroughly annoyed, breathe a word and they'll brand you paranoid. It is hard indeed to find a reason, when the soul of world seems void. But if you stubbornly refuse to bend, you will win through in the end. For the spirit must journey through slime, before it can turn sublime. Corollary: Give me an army of lovers, and I shall conquer bureaucracy! Nah! Not really... … but maybe, just maybe...
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Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 9:03 AM UTC
Calm and Quiet
No shock, no engulfment... Just the natural corollary to physical birth. Death is standing on your porch screaming out and beckoning you to come downstairs. Unbudgeable and unbribeable. The eternal, unbiased judge is holding the Book of Life, Your name no longer written in it. The great leveller not paid for favors is riding triumphantly his chariot The dead, the great and small now standing before the Throne.
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Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 7:17 AM UTC
The eternal unbiased judge
Ruminating epoché, ‘I am…’ ‘Or am I’? Who can say? ‘A posteriori’ leads the way For the extra and the ordinary Axiomatic sway In the gravity of corollary, ‘A priori’ interplay. Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation, As the innocence of dissonance delay Initiatives imperative consolidation, Civilly disobedient in expedient disarray. Practicing semantic contemplation, Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves, Forecast in vague extrapolation, To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves, A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves, Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves, Inflating the linguistics of silent enclaves, A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves. Probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates, The Apperceived inquirer of qualitative states, Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates. Challenging Aporia as epistemic oscillates, Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates, Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates.
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May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 1:24 AM UTC
Linguistic Illusions to Probable Solutions
When my old friend Walks through the door He's come a long way with me Constant companion My fiercest combatant An old corollary Of my ****** up existence I simply take him Close in my arms And rest while weeping tales away Waiting till he wanders off And someday he'll be back again I just wish When my old friend revisits I'm jolly stocked with hearty ale And songs to sing of old and new
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Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 11:59 PM UTC
An Old Mate
He wants it more She wants it less We wrestle to find balance in our existence She expresses she cares He didn't care to care, he could have cared less We find our chemistries to be attracted So naturally hypotheses on possibilities & circumstances No doubt their is gravity Tension exists This experience requires work Work worthwhile What's work to a laborer This is a work that requires tending to Requiring time, submission, and patience A labor of love, let love guide your direction We revel in the correlation in our corollary The confluence of Love n Matter She sees in his eyes depths He sees in her eyes possibility He(Depths) is the verse, She(Eyes) is the rhyme "A conversation in progress are they...?" Love incomplete
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Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 7:44 PM UTC
Love Conversing
In this unknown world of knowledge hilly, You came as a Mozart in disguise dolly To teach all teachers how to teach fully; Benefitted though sad – not meeting daily. Daily meeting not possible, gave a pulley Of google drive and we see, hear our folly. Giving a chocolate, taking note of us, O Alley. A corollary we get makes us gorgeous frilly No obfuscatory with him: sometimes chilly, Times cold, but a hunky-dory, a true deli. An accurate hortatory for English holy, Teaching precise pronunciation alley To improve us from state utter nugatory. Encouraging, gave chances to all my folly; Novel, pioneering, predicatory. Never did dally. Blessed to have such a trainer as lovely lily Had been an orator, excellent energetic filly. Marwadi University is blessed with hilly – The persons so high, so intelligent, O Molly! Wish to have such a guide in my life daily So that saccharin be added to life’s chili And lethargy, fatigue, lassitude goes dully. Let it be Surat or Morbi or Rajkot or Delhi Dhanajay, Viral and Brij sir be with me fully.
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Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 8:36 PM UTC
Monorhyme on Marwadi Resource Persons
Ruminating epoché, ‘I am…’ ‘Or am I’? Who can say? ‘A posteriori’ leads the way For the extra and the ordinary Axiomatic sway In the gravity of corollary, ‘A priori’ interplay. Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation, As the innocence of dissonance delay Initiatives imperative consolidation, Civilly disobedient in expedient disarray. Practicing semantic contemplation, Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves, Forecast in vague extrapolation, To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves, A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves, Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves, Inflating the linguistics of silent enclaves, A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves. Probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates, The Apperceived inquirer of qualitative states, Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates. Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates, Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates, Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates.
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Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 11:50 AM UTC
Advanced Aporia
Newspaper names! . Preserving our inane stupidity In crystalline rigidity! **** em! ___ Do you really want to be real? ... How so? ---- Will you walk the naked pain streets Of understanding All the ****** here? Will you ask: Say What truly is it to be A human being beyond the tales of Blood lines And it's corollary------greed? ---- Under the bright skies of simplicity Will you decide To stop being deceived? ---- All the newspaper names !! Everyone of them fake **** em Be a life Be known As yourself Pure and Home grown
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May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 10:44 PM UTC
tired of the same ole thing
that was the summer I tried to fall in or out of love but my heart's all used up and I can't do anything right
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Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 3:18 AM UTC
corollary
All I care is for this sudden smell if I dare to ever hold my breath...I cannot. To wallow from this state of means to come to me in dreams and amidst conscious strolls. Do I forbear or do I endure such a beautiful strain? This aroma, what bliss will have me ensconced by waters and corollary of celestial instance. Happy as I not alone so ever in this amazement of chance. The sun has touched me today in ways so true, caressed in spite of these garments that sheathe me. They will not take me alive...I only care for beauty. Care for wealth, for relevance, or power...care elsewhere for such rottenness of the soul is contagious. ‘Contage’ me not, if you wish so not to see the wrath of a gentle man, of a gentleman. This smell will stay I will come to it by morrow. Smell on if this rave meets you, endure the pleasure of such scents as it’s zephyr may touch the walls of mortal nares. Smell on...beauty is by.
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Dec 12, 2017
Dec 12, 2017 at 4:12 PM UTC
The Aroma of Touchless Span
Bo Boggs sat on a Pappy Crush Soda crate, smokin' a roach in a graveyard. The headstone read " Here lies Pinnochio Earle... Face Up. Take Care Where You Sit. " . Bo could see the Landry hog farm, over the tombstone and his mind was fishing for some cosmic corollary as he stared into Space grippin' a cold one. The summer breeze came at Summer's End, bringing with it, a hint of Fall, and far off barbeque. Bo Boggs sat on a Pappy Crush Soda crate in the bossom of a garden of stone. listening to Bluebirds forget the music they had never rehearsed in the first place. And he almost laughed. Then he wrote that down.
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Apr 6, 2018
Apr 6, 2018 at 5:44 PM UTC
Wisteria Widdershins
In the shadows of my serene composure Perturbance ventured my susceptible core Corollary hallucinations compelled my inner channels to disarm Commenced the chaos at the departure of calm A storming blitz led by a fortifying fleet Disruptions levitated to the greatest summit Every portal being forcefully barred Catastrophic propositions nearly forged my dreary graveyard Instantaneous reinforcements initiated an expeditious resurgence Sirens snapped my vulnerable systems back to sense My efficacious consultant explored miscellaneous alternatives Warfare and fleeing being the superlative prerogatives Befittingly, combat seemed extremely gallant Escape undignifying the prowess of talent It all panned out en route a thunderous showdown The ultimate clash being unveiled as the ‘Psychological Crown’
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Jan 21, 2025
Jan 21, 2025 at 10:52 PM UTC
Psychological Chronicle
A missive from my old mate Hareballs....giving us a laugh at ourselves and this crazy world. Cheers M. The following is an actual question given on a University of Arizona chemistry midterm, and an actual answer turned in by a student. The answer by one student was so 'profound' that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well: Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)? Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant. One student, however, wrote the following: First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving, which is unlikely. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added. This gives two possibilities: 1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose. 2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over. So which is it? If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year, 'It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you,' and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number two must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct........leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting, 'Oh, my God.’….Oh, my God THIS STUDENT RECEIVED AN A+.
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Oct 8, 2023
Oct 8, 2023 at 8:48 PM UTC
HELL EXPLAINED...
A missive from my old mate Hareballs....giving us a laugh at ourselves and this crazy world. Cheers M. The following is an actual question given on a University of Arizona chemistry midterm, and an actual answer turned in by a student. The answer by one student was so 'profound' that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well: Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)? Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant. One student, however, wrote the following: First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving, which is unlikely. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added. This gives two possibilities: 1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose. 2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over. So which is it? If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year, 'It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you,' and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number two must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct........leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting, 'Oh, my God.’….Oh, my God THIS STUDENT RECEIVED AN A+.
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