So here I am, trying something. We like funny pictures and we like serious ones. We like funny quotes... so what about serious ones?
So, here I go.
From A Fairy'S Tale, <a href='http://www.touhou-project.com/sdm/res/33875.html#33982' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'>Post 63</a>
I can sure as hell think of quite a number of stories where this could apply...
So, here I go.
Natasha took a long time to respond, and her answer was as dark as pitch. ôPerfect. Perfect on all accounts Ms. Chalmers, save for one. ThereÆs no organization anymoreà WeÆre all dead. We were never very strongà five at one time, perhapsà and you drove us to the brink of extinction. Three escaped over ten years. The maid you spoke of just died from cancer last month. The other two committed suicide. I wasnÆt escaping to get back to the organization, Ms. Chalmersà I was trying to get back to my son.ö
And then it was PatchouliÆs turn to take the hit, and to my horror, she took it even worse that Natasha had. The doctor simply, simply and slowly, fell, like an old building, brick by brick until she was kneeling on the ground with her hands blanketing her face. It was the most gradual transition of emotions IÆd ever seen, even speaking to you with the knowledge and experience I know now. For the flat-faced Patchouli of all people to be standing on top of the world, smiling like a normal person would, and then to fall down to depths IÆd never contemplatedà I hope you never have to see what I had to see on that day. I hope that you think long and hard about your answer when the Miss Knowledge in your life asks you if you want to follow her through that door.
ôWhyàö Patchouli whispered from the floor as a single tear absorbed itself into the carpet. ôWhyà did they, killà themselvesà I-if I may, askàö
ôDepression,ö the Herod-lady responded, still as sullen and dark as before. ôThey tried to get people to believe their story. No one took them seriously. No one listened. After what theyÆd been though, and what people called themà death was better. And you were wrong about one more thing, Patriciaà I did change during those two weeks. I donÆt really give a damn if you live of die anymore, so long as I can get people to believe that youÆre all out there. ThatÆs all I have in life now, that and my son.ö
From the ground, the librarian waved her hand away weakly. ôGo to your son,ö she said weakly. ôThey wonÆt believe you.ö
NasashaÆs voice suddenly increased in volume. ôThey have to. After what IÆve seen, what IÆve heardà IÆm done more than anyone else ever did in understanding this place! I know the truth now!ö
ôThey wonÆt believe you.ö
ôIfà If I could bring something back, even get someone toà come with me, maybeàö
ôThey will never believe you, Natasha.ö
ôI have to try,ö she said finally, emotion coming back to her voice.
Right then and there, Patchouli stood up, wincing every step of the way but pushing me back when I tried to stop her. She raised herself to her full height and stared at the bedridden woman with drying tears on her face.
ôI will tell you what will happen if you try, Natasha Herod. You will go to the masses and you will say you have seen wonders beyond this world. You will share with them your excitement and your love and your devotion to that which is beyond comprehension. You will tell them a tale better than the authorÆs pen can create. And they will raise their eyebrows at you. They will talk behind their backs at you. They will wonder if perhaps you merely want attention. And they will hear, but they will not listen, for they have already made up their minds about this sort of thing.
ôUndaunted, you will go to your friends, your family, your colleges and your trusted advisors. You will share with them your dreams and your hopes, your vision of a new world with that which you have discovered. You will be more cautious with them than with the masses, and will act reserved and intelligent. And they will smirk at you. They will chuckle at you. They will thank you for an entertaining teatime chat. And they will hear, but they will not listen, for they have already made up their minds about this sort of thing.
ôUndaunted still, you will go to your superiors and your professors, your scientists and your researchers, your administrators and your heads of government. You will be cautious still from your past failures. You will give them structured information and evidence, mathematical theorems and philosophical justifications. And they will scowl at you. They will shout at you. They will call you a tragedy and strip you of the ranks you hold dear to yourself. And they will hear, but they will not listen, for they have already made up their minds about this sort of thing.
ôIn five yearsÆ time you will return to your home, having traveled the world and having become a different woman than you once were. You will have brought back samples of your story from the four corners of the globe. You will present a convincing hypothesis full of logic and psychology far greater than what you had done in the past. And they will jeer at you. They will heckle you. They will call you a fool and a sideshow caller. And they will hear, but they will not listen, for they have already made up their minds about this sort of thing.
ôIn ten yearsÆ time you will return to society again, having steeled your will to pursuing your lifeÆs work for the good of humankind. You will bring them amazing examples and reams of findings confirming your magical proposal. You will have a solid answer to every question they can give you! And they will turn away from you. They will ignore you. They will call you unworthy of their time. And they will hear. But they will not listen. For they have already made up their minds about this sort of thing.
ôAnd in fifteen yearsÆ time you will give them one more chance. You will bring to them conclusive and irrefutable proof that you are telling the truth! You will show them before their very eyes that magic can and does exist, and that you hold the key if only you could find the door! And they will lock you up. They will call you mad. They will try to destroy what little heart you still have left. And they WILL hear. But they will NOT listen. For they have already made up their minds about this sort of thing.
Let no one ever tell you otherwise that Doctor Patchouli Knowledge does not know how to express her anger.
She didnÆt even bother to wipe the rage-filled tears off her face as she stepped away from Mrs. HerodÆs bed. She didnÆt even care that I had been in the room the whole time, hearing every word. She didnÆt even know that she had just destroyed the perfect image I had of her, so intelligent and sure of herself about anything and everything. That I was not so stupid as to understand that she had just told me her entire lifeÆs story in the span of five minutes.
ôYou see, Mrs. Nat, you and I suffer from the same problem,ö she added as she walked towards the door, turning her head back around one last time. ôWe were both born a millennium too late.ö
And then it was PatchouliÆs turn to take the hit, and to my horror, she took it even worse that Natasha had. The doctor simply, simply and slowly, fell, like an old building, brick by brick until she was kneeling on the ground with her hands blanketing her face. It was the most gradual transition of emotions IÆd ever seen, even speaking to you with the knowledge and experience I know now. For the flat-faced Patchouli of all people to be standing on top of the world, smiling like a normal person would, and then to fall down to depths IÆd never contemplatedà I hope you never have to see what I had to see on that day. I hope that you think long and hard about your answer when the Miss Knowledge in your life asks you if you want to follow her through that door.
ôWhyàö Patchouli whispered from the floor as a single tear absorbed itself into the carpet. ôWhyà did they, killà themselvesà I-if I may, askàö
ôDepression,ö the Herod-lady responded, still as sullen and dark as before. ôThey tried to get people to believe their story. No one took them seriously. No one listened. After what theyÆd been though, and what people called themà death was better. And you were wrong about one more thing, Patriciaà I did change during those two weeks. I donÆt really give a damn if you live of die anymore, so long as I can get people to believe that youÆre all out there. ThatÆs all I have in life now, that and my son.ö
From the ground, the librarian waved her hand away weakly. ôGo to your son,ö she said weakly. ôThey wonÆt believe you.ö
NasashaÆs voice suddenly increased in volume. ôThey have to. After what IÆve seen, what IÆve heardà IÆm done more than anyone else ever did in understanding this place! I know the truth now!ö
ôThey wonÆt believe you.ö
ôIfà If I could bring something back, even get someone toà come with me, maybeàö
ôThey will never believe you, Natasha.ö
ôI have to try,ö she said finally, emotion coming back to her voice.
Right then and there, Patchouli stood up, wincing every step of the way but pushing me back when I tried to stop her. She raised herself to her full height and stared at the bedridden woman with drying tears on her face.
ôI will tell you what will happen if you try, Natasha Herod. You will go to the masses and you will say you have seen wonders beyond this world. You will share with them your excitement and your love and your devotion to that which is beyond comprehension. You will tell them a tale better than the authorÆs pen can create. And they will raise their eyebrows at you. They will talk behind their backs at you. They will wonder if perhaps you merely want attention. And they will hear, but they will not listen, for they have already made up their minds about this sort of thing.
ôUndaunted, you will go to your friends, your family, your colleges and your trusted advisors. You will share with them your dreams and your hopes, your vision of a new world with that which you have discovered. You will be more cautious with them than with the masses, and will act reserved and intelligent. And they will smirk at you. They will chuckle at you. They will thank you for an entertaining teatime chat. And they will hear, but they will not listen, for they have already made up their minds about this sort of thing.
ôUndaunted still, you will go to your superiors and your professors, your scientists and your researchers, your administrators and your heads of government. You will be cautious still from your past failures. You will give them structured information and evidence, mathematical theorems and philosophical justifications. And they will scowl at you. They will shout at you. They will call you a tragedy and strip you of the ranks you hold dear to yourself. And they will hear, but they will not listen, for they have already made up their minds about this sort of thing.
ôIn five yearsÆ time you will return to your home, having traveled the world and having become a different woman than you once were. You will have brought back samples of your story from the four corners of the globe. You will present a convincing hypothesis full of logic and psychology far greater than what you had done in the past. And they will jeer at you. They will heckle you. They will call you a fool and a sideshow caller. And they will hear, but they will not listen, for they have already made up their minds about this sort of thing.
ôIn ten yearsÆ time you will return to society again, having steeled your will to pursuing your lifeÆs work for the good of humankind. You will bring them amazing examples and reams of findings confirming your magical proposal. You will have a solid answer to every question they can give you! And they will turn away from you. They will ignore you. They will call you unworthy of their time. And they will hear. But they will not listen. For they have already made up their minds about this sort of thing.
ôAnd in fifteen yearsÆ time you will give them one more chance. You will bring to them conclusive and irrefutable proof that you are telling the truth! You will show them before their very eyes that magic can and does exist, and that you hold the key if only you could find the door! And they will lock you up. They will call you mad. They will try to destroy what little heart you still have left. And they WILL hear. But they will NOT listen. For they have already made up their minds about this sort of thing.
Let no one ever tell you otherwise that Doctor Patchouli Knowledge does not know how to express her anger.
She didnÆt even bother to wipe the rage-filled tears off her face as she stepped away from Mrs. HerodÆs bed. She didnÆt even care that I had been in the room the whole time, hearing every word. She didnÆt even know that she had just destroyed the perfect image I had of her, so intelligent and sure of herself about anything and everything. That I was not so stupid as to understand that she had just told me her entire lifeÆs story in the span of five minutes.
ôYou see, Mrs. Nat, you and I suffer from the same problem,ö she added as she walked towards the door, turning her head back around one last time. ôWe were both born a millennium too late.ö
I can sure as hell think of quite a number of stories where this could apply...