“A three-day-old human embryo is a collection of 150 cells called a blastocyst. There are, for the sake of comparison, more than 100,000 cells in the brain of a fly. If our concern is about suffering in this universe, it is rather obvious that we should be more concerned about killing flies than about killing three-day-old human embryos… Many people will argue that the difference between a fly and a three-day-old human embryo is that a three-day-old human embryo is a potential human being. Every cell in your body, given the right manipulations, every cell with a nucleus is now a potential human being. Every time you scratch your nose, you’ve committed a holocaust of potential human beings… Let’s say we grant it that every three-day-old human embryo has a soul worthy of our moral concern. First of all, embryos at this stage can split into identical twins. Is this a case of one soul splitting into two souls? Embryos at this stage can fuse into a chimera. What has happened to the extra human soul in such a case? This is intellectually indefensible, but it’s morally indefensible given that these notions really are prolonging scarcely endurable misery of tens of millions of human beings, and because of the respect we accord religious faith, we can’t have this dialogue in the way that we should. I submit to you that if you think the interests of a three-day-old blastocyst trump the interests of a little girl with spinal cord injuries or a person with full-body burns, your moral intuitions have been obscured by religious metaphysics.”—
all i read are these romance novels that i know have absolutely no value whatsoever. but, i adore reading them. it makes me feel as if romance actually exists. it’s dumb. i should be reading about politics or history. i just can’t stop.
Disregarding the fact that I’ve never actually asked you out,
Why won’t you say yes?
I know it’s not because I did anything to offend you
Because I barely talk to you.
And it’s not for lack of trying.
The most I ever do is stare at the
Back of your head from the
Back of the classroom letting my
Imagination go wild…
At the thought of how
Awkward 30-second hello’s
Can turn into
5-minute how are you’s
Can turn into
We come back down in time to say our
Which consist of playfully demanding “no you hang up“‘s
Until we eventually agree,
As we always do,
To both hang up at the count of three;
At which point neither of us does.
As if to imply that there was something to gain from finding out who like whom more
Other than crushing disappointment or abysmal guilt…
As if to imply that staying on the phone could somehow quantify my adoration of you
Which on a scale of one to five is an eight;
Because it was swept off its feet
Hits it head on the bound
And was forced to stay in bed for the rest of the week.
But that’s okay:
I would still send you get well e-cards and
Virtual flowers because
Let’s face it: we’re in high school and I’m broke.
But you could still meet all my friends online
And I guarantee,
You’d be the center of every Skype call.
And maybe, once you’re better,
I could some day, perhaps,
If it’s okay with you,
Finally muster up the courage,
My coat, off of your shoulders,
With fingers dexterous and agile
Sculpted by years of hand-held’s and RPG’s to
Fit perfectly with yours;
But still create cracks and curves with
Pockets of space that
I can’t seem to get rid of,
No matter how tightly I hold you.
Bring you close and whisper cheesy pickup lines like:
“The set of compliments worthy of you,
Is the null set because baby you’re my whole universe.”
Just to make you to laugh.
And I would never call you hot or sexy,
Because you’re not.
You’re elegant. You’re beautiful.
Your smile, is beautiful.
Your heart, is beautiful.
And the back of your head,
I would know.
I stare at it every day from the back of the classroom
Letting my imagination go wild;
At the thought that a girl like you,
Could ever go for a nerd,