WHY?
i just want to hear your explanation is all. feel free to go into whatever detail you want or to make it as short as you wish. i just want to hear your opinion, each and every person who reads this, please.
sorry, but if i get a lukewarm response to this topic i am going to go on vacation from tank's forums for a while and try to find another place where i fit in better. unless you care to give me your opinion, that is- on the question of "why?"
Why?
ProfessorPap 
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be·cause ( P ) Pronunciation Key (b-kôz, -kz)
conj.
For the reason that; since.
bot otoh you have ppl saying:
because
\Be*cause"\, conj. [OE. bycause; by + cause.] 1. By or for the cause that; on this account that; for the reason that. --Milton.
2. In order that; that. [Obs.]
And the multitude rebuked them because they should hold their peace. --Matt. xx. 31.
Because of, by reason of, on account of. [Prep. phrase.]
conj.
For the reason that; since.
bot otoh you have ppl saying:
because
\Be*cause"\, conj. [OE. bycause; by + cause.] 1. By or for the cause that; on this account that; for the reason that. --Milton.
2. In order that; that. [Obs.]
And the multitude rebuked them because they should hold their peace. --Matt. xx. 31.
Because of, by reason of, on account of. [Prep. phrase.]
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Majination
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With a start, Chris realized that the incessant question was not a shadowy thought of his own, but a voice. The fog of his midmorning slumber begrudgingly began to give way to the familiar environment of the master bedroom, when amidst the materializing sounds of summer the question came once more.
"Why?"
Chris opened an eye and took in the view of the dresser to the right of the bed. The owner of the voice was nowhere to be seen. Sure that he had heard it from that area of the room, he arched his brow and began searching the rest of the dresser top.
Nothing. The little nuisance was up to something.
"I'm warning you," Chris spoke softly while burying his face into the pillow, "if you jump out and scare me I'll lock you in the closet with Sarah."
This game had been played before, and while he no longer had nightmares about the little marionette, it was still a sore subject. When he was ten his parents had taken him to a therapist for several months to find the cause of his night terrors, where against his better judgment he told the source of his traumitization. The medication had never helped, and had only served to dull his wits.
There was a light tugging of the sheets off the right edge of the mattress, and then the labored sounds of the little guy trying to haul himself up. Chris listened for a moment in amusement before taking hold of the sheet and pulling him up the rest of the way.
"I see you have done something different with your hair. It, uh, looks..."
"Good?"
"I was going to say, 'Poofy.'"
With that, Nicolas, the marionette, raised his hands to his head and began forming his peach colored afro. He was quite the spectacle, always choosing to make clothing from the most outlandish of colors. His apparel choice for today was something akin to that of an outfit a court jester might wear, and was made of green and silver that opposed each other on arms, chest, and legging. Rounding out the bottom of the ensemble were black curly-toed boots that always reminded him of something a Keebler Elf might own. The new addition, though, the fro, was the tip of the iceberg. It was overly large in proportion to Nicolas's marionette head, and quite spherical. It was a perfect globe.
"What is it made of?"
"A Nerf basketball."
"A what?" Chris laughed with the realization. "Where did you get a Nerf basketball?!"
"You were asleep, and I was bored, so I let myself out through the cat door. The garage door was open, so I entertained myself by going through a couple boxes." Nicolas once again started primping his newfound hair. "I think it's stylish."
"You better watch out, if Sarah catches you she'll kick your ass."
"I'm not afraid of a cat," Nicolas said matter-of-factly. "I have protection."
"Protection? Yeah right. What are you going to do, ridicule her into submission?"
With a smile that bordered somewhere between pride and mischief, Nicolas drew a needle from the waistband of his trousers. "I'll stick her. Then we'll see who's the mighty hunter," he giggled.
"Yeah... we'll see. I know who my bet is on," Chris chuckled under his breath.
"So, you never answered my question."
"What question?"
"Why are you still sleeping? I've been bored all day waiting for you to get up."
"Uhg... I've been re-teaching myself Perl the last couple of days, and have put in some long nights doing some programming."
"Boring," Nicolas drew out emphatically. "Boring, boring, boring, boring. When are you going to stop being such a hermit and go find some hoochies?"
"Hoochies?" Chris paused a moment to ponder the thought. "I suppose a tease or two would be good for the ol' moral..."
"Mmm, with big luscious breastages!"
"Now you are talking. Come on, help me pick out some clothes and we'll go down to the Park."
"Sounds great. You know what you really need to reel in the women-folk, though?"
Chris gave the marionette a dubious glare, "No, what?"
"A big ol' afro, like mine. I have to beat the women off with a stick!"
"Nicolas, you only just put it on today..."
"Oh, yeah. Well, you watch and see when we get down to the Park."
"Uh huh..."
"With a stick, I tell you!"
"Why?"
Chris opened an eye and took in the view of the dresser to the right of the bed. The owner of the voice was nowhere to be seen. Sure that he had heard it from that area of the room, he arched his brow and began searching the rest of the dresser top.
Nothing. The little nuisance was up to something.
"I'm warning you," Chris spoke softly while burying his face into the pillow, "if you jump out and scare me I'll lock you in the closet with Sarah."
This game had been played before, and while he no longer had nightmares about the little marionette, it was still a sore subject. When he was ten his parents had taken him to a therapist for several months to find the cause of his night terrors, where against his better judgment he told the source of his traumitization. The medication had never helped, and had only served to dull his wits.
There was a light tugging of the sheets off the right edge of the mattress, and then the labored sounds of the little guy trying to haul himself up. Chris listened for a moment in amusement before taking hold of the sheet and pulling him up the rest of the way.
"I see you have done something different with your hair. It, uh, looks..."
"Good?"
"I was going to say, 'Poofy.'"
With that, Nicolas, the marionette, raised his hands to his head and began forming his peach colored afro. He was quite the spectacle, always choosing to make clothing from the most outlandish of colors. His apparel choice for today was something akin to that of an outfit a court jester might wear, and was made of green and silver that opposed each other on arms, chest, and legging. Rounding out the bottom of the ensemble were black curly-toed boots that always reminded him of something a Keebler Elf might own. The new addition, though, the fro, was the tip of the iceberg. It was overly large in proportion to Nicolas's marionette head, and quite spherical. It was a perfect globe.
"What is it made of?"
"A Nerf basketball."
"A what?" Chris laughed with the realization. "Where did you get a Nerf basketball?!"
"You were asleep, and I was bored, so I let myself out through the cat door. The garage door was open, so I entertained myself by going through a couple boxes." Nicolas once again started primping his newfound hair. "I think it's stylish."
"You better watch out, if Sarah catches you she'll kick your ass."
"I'm not afraid of a cat," Nicolas said matter-of-factly. "I have protection."
"Protection? Yeah right. What are you going to do, ridicule her into submission?"
With a smile that bordered somewhere between pride and mischief, Nicolas drew a needle from the waistband of his trousers. "I'll stick her. Then we'll see who's the mighty hunter," he giggled.
"Yeah... we'll see. I know who my bet is on," Chris chuckled under his breath.
"So, you never answered my question."
"What question?"
"Why are you still sleeping? I've been bored all day waiting for you to get up."
"Uhg... I've been re-teaching myself Perl the last couple of days, and have put in some long nights doing some programming."
"Boring," Nicolas drew out emphatically. "Boring, boring, boring, boring. When are you going to stop being such a hermit and go find some hoochies?"
"Hoochies?" Chris paused a moment to ponder the thought. "I suppose a tease or two would be good for the ol' moral..."
"Mmm, with big luscious breastages!"
"Now you are talking. Come on, help me pick out some clothes and we'll go down to the Park."
"Sounds great. You know what you really need to reel in the women-folk, though?"
Chris gave the marionette a dubious glare, "No, what?"
"A big ol' afro, like mine. I have to beat the women off with a stick!"
"Nicolas, you only just put it on today..."
"Oh, yeah. Well, you watch and see when we get down to the Park."
"Uh huh..."
"With a stick, I tell you!"
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"Stimpy, sometimes your wealth of ignorance astounds me!" - Ren Hoek
"Stimpy, sometimes your wealth of ignorance astounds me!" - Ren Hoek
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Majination
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Hmmm... a 97, you say?RUDEBOY! wrote:He wrote 2 words.
Why not?
and got 97 percent. True story.
He must have misspelled one of them...
http://bikecolors.shorturl.com -- ArmageTron Multi-Color Bike Picker
"Stimpy, sometimes your wealth of ignorance astounds me!" - Ren Hoek
"Stimpy, sometimes your wealth of ignorance astounds me!" - Ren Hoek
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nicolas.b
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haha, lafayette was so impressed with that phrase that he used it as his personal motto: "cur non?" - latin, i think. (of course, lafayette was also an idiot, so...)RUDEBOY! wrote:A student took a sociology course, on the final essay he got a 100 page book to read and analyse that essetially asked why? He wrote 2 words.
Why not?
and got 97 percent. True story.
BTW, maji- that was absolutely superb! thank you VERY much and anytime you feel like writing more you will find me a faithful customer. not actually able to pay any money or reciprocate in any way, but a faithful customer nonetheless...
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Freewheelin'56
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nicolas.b
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i hear that, man. i mean, i'm living on borrowed time already. how bout on my way to mount olympus i stop through heaven and do a couple thumbnail sketches of sinners who snuck in the back door? i could show you the pics in the form of cloud formations or maybe fleas that would all be willing to line up to display each sketch?
well if you're not interested, that's okay.
well if you're not interested, that's okay.
I've forgotten, but what is your medical condition exactly, nicolas.b?nicolas.b wrote:i hear that, man. i mean, i'm living on borrowed time already. how bout on my way to mount olympus i stop through heaven and do a couple thumbnail sketches of sinners who snuck in the back door? i could show you the pics in the form of cloud formations or maybe fleas that would all be willing to line up to display each sketch?
well if you're not interested, that's okay.