Remember that credit is money.
~Benjamin Franklin (1706–1790), a Founding Father of the United States, was a printer, writer, political theorist, politician, postmaster, scientist, musician, inventor, satirist, civic activist, statesman, and diplomat.
If you would like to know the value of money, go and try to borrow some.
Time is money.
Robots and UFOs
(1) A robot may not injure a human being, or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.
(2) A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the first law.
(3) A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.
~Isaac Asimov, “The Three Laws of Robotics,” in I, Robot (1950), Frontispiece. Isaac Asimov (born Isaak Yudovich Ozimov; Russian: Исаак Юдович Озимов; 1920 – 1992) was an American author and professor of biochemistry at Boston University, best known for his works of science fiction and for his popular science books. Asimov was one of the most prolific writers of all time, having written or edited more than 500 books and an estimated 90,000 letters and postcards. His works have been published in nine out of ten major categories of the Dewey Decimal System.
A number of years ago, when I was a freshly-appointed instructor, I met, for the first time, a certain eminent historian of science. At the time I could only regard him with tolerant condescension.
I was sorry of the man who, it seemed to me, was forced to hover about the edges of science. He was compelled to shiver endlessly in the outskirts, getting only feeble warmth from the distant sun of science- in-progress; while I, just beginning my research, was bathed in the heady liquid heat up at the very center of the glow.
In a lifetime of being wrong at many a point, I was never more wrong. It was I, not he, who was wandering in the periphery. It was he, not I, who lived in the blaze.
I had fallen victim to the fallacy of the “growing edge”; the belief that only the very frontier of scientific advance counted; that everything that had been left behind by that advance was faded and dead.
But is that true? Because a tree in spring buds and comes greenly into leaf, are those leaves therefore the tree? If the newborn twigs and their leaves were all that existed, they would form a vague halo of green suspended in mid-air, but surely that is not the tree. The leaves, by themselves, are no more than trivial fluttering decoration. It is the trunk and limbs that give the tree its grandeur and the leaves themselves their meaning.
There is not a discovery in science, however revolutionary, however sparkling with insight, that does not arise out of what went before. ‘If I have seen further than other men,’ said Isaac Newton, ‘it is because I have stood on the shoulders of giants.’
~Isaac Asimov, Adding A Dimension: Seventeen Essays on the History of Science (1964), Introduction
An atom-blaster is a good weapon, but it can point both ways.
~Isaac Asimov, The Foundation Trilogy (1951), Vol. 2, p. 207
Could’ve, Should’ve, and Would’ve
Could’ve, Should’ve, and Would’ve
Knocked on my back door.
I said, “I’m going forward,
I don’t want you anymore.”
They moaned and whine and cried,
Stamped their feet and sighed.
I quickly closed the door
And waved to them, “Goodbye.”
The hunchback in the green shirt plays the slots,
The cocktail waitress in her low-cut black gown
Hands him a Bud, the pit boss strides up and down
Beside the green tables in his dark suit, calling
For Security to come gather the takings.
As men yell, “Seven, seven” at the craps table,
A change-man in his black pants, white shirt
And black tie hands ten dollars’ worth of nickels
To the lady with her Social Security envelope.
The loaders push a metal cart full of coin cans
To the booth where the cashier counts the twenty
Thousand dollars and signs a slip, smokes a cigarette
And checks jackpots on the computer.
Under the slot machines the coinwrappers open wooden doors
And pour coins–nickels, dimes, quarters, dollars–
Into plastic buckets while a burly security guard
In blue stands watching with his arms folded.
Ten people gather ’round the giant dollar machine
As a man in a brown suit slips three dollar tokens
At a time into the silver beast and watches the bells
And cherries revolve on the wheels, before he gets paged,
And the crowd disperses to the quarter slots.
A group from an Oakland bus lines up to cash in
Green slips guaranteeing ten dollars’ worth
Of free play on the clanging and whirring machines.
Those who glance out the windows see night become
Morning, the first dawnrays streaking the black streets.
Well, gentlemen, you are about to see a baked Appel.
~George Appel, d. 1928 (executed in electric chair in New York)
You are going to hurt me, please don’t hurt me, just one more moment, I beg you!
~Madame du Barry, mistress of Louis XV, d. 1793 (guillotined)
Triumph of the Guillotine By Nicolas Antoine Taunay
Ray Jasper told his family to “take care of each other, stay strong and faithful to God.” He then thanked his supporters and told his daughter that he loved her and told her to “be strong, be positive, have a great life.” His final words were as follows: “Lord God almighty in heaven Jesus Christ see my spirit. Amen.”
~Last words of Death Row inmate Ray Jasper III (third execution in Texas in 2014)