Sentences with phrase «life human being somewhere»

So far, matchmaking is slick, the servers are stable and you get that added thrill of destroying a real - life human being somewhere on the other side of a broadband cable.

Not exact matches

It has been estimated that in less than the past 100 years, governments under the banner of communism have caused the death of somewhere between 40,472,000 to 259,432,000 human lives.

Clearly this activity will be taking place somewhere, because human existence is too problematic for people to stop searching for ideas and ways of living that will make everyday life meaningful.

As Americans in a pluralistic society, however, we must create a milieu for moral decision - making that is somewhere between value conferred by intention or relation alone, and the abstract mystical fetishism that deifies the substance of human life in and of itself.

Somewhere in the world, there is a graphic tee that perfectly sums up your life outlook — and it is probably at HUMAN.

NOW WE CLEARLY UNDERSTAND THE EXTENT OF DEMENTIA IN AMERICA Dale Benjamin Drakeford 8-31-12 When Clint Eastwood, a self - proclaimed «conservative» (who has lived more like a Joseph Smith liberal spurning nine children with four different women, sporting a clinch fisted personae in his private exenterates over public exhibitions) talks vulgar to an empty chair, Marco Rubio (a small government advocate who loss his roots somewhere between caffeine - free tea and a caffeine rich Cuban cigar) slips Freudian to advocate «large government» in a failed attempt to wax brilliant but came off bane (pun intended) to the capitalization of the nation, Paul Ryan can lie and demonize his role against the truth until his nose is a foot long and not one member of his audience will notice, and Mitt Romney can anecdote on his personal family, business and church goings on as oppose to his solutions for unemployment, banking corruption, housing displacement, militarism, planetary illness and international human rights unrest, we can clearly understand the extent of dementia in America.

Brooks: In addition to precursor missions, the most astounding thing for us as humans will be if we discover life somewhere else.

«We think there are potential cures or ways to improve or save human lives that may be buried away in a PDF somewhere.»

We all do this somewhere in our lives, because we are perfectly imperfect human beings.

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Because, unless you cloister yourself away from other human beings and live off the land, you still need to buy something somewhere eventually.

Another St. Bernard, Barry, was famous for saving somewhere between 40 and 100 human lives in the mountains.

Personally, with rare exception, we only travel to somewhere where we already have a real human connection with someone who's excited to show us where they live.

A quiet settlement somewhere far away from the monsters (both human and undead), where she can live in peace and try to process the shocking events she's experienced over the course of her short life (which, on my file, includes eating human flesh.

, you are lying on the floor of your place looking up, a small draft runs through the room, between the door and the window, and all things seem perfectly still, wind only disturbs concrete in imperceptible ways, or it may take millions of years to be noticed and, as the air runs through the space, all your plants move and all is animated and all is alive somehow, and here are the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands, they are not original with me, and that wind upon your plants is the common air that bathes the globe, and we have no ambitions of universalism, and I'm glad we don't, but the particles of air bring traces of pollen and are charged with electricity, desert sand, maybe sea water, and these particles were somewhere else before they were dragged here, and their route will not end by the door of this house, and if we tell each other stories, one can imagine that they might have been bathed by this same air, regrouped and recombined, recharged as a vehicle for sound, swirling as it moves, bringing the sound of a drum, like that Kabuki story where a fox recognizes the voice of its parents as a girl plays a drum made out of their skin, or any other event, and yet I always felt your work never tells stories, I tend to think that narrative implies a past tense, even if that past was just five seconds ago, one second ago was already the past, and human memory is irrelevant in geological time, plants and fish know not what tomorrow will bring, neither rocks nor metal do, but we all live here now, and we all need visions and we all need dreams, and as long as your metal sculptures vibrate they are always in the Present, and their past is a material truth alien to narrative, but well, maybe narrative does not imply a past tense at all and they are writing their own story while they gently move and breathe, and maybe nothing was really still before the wind came in, passing through the window as if through an irrational portal to make those plants dance, but everything was already moving and breathing in near complete silence, and if you're focused enough you can feel the pulse of a concrete wall and you can feel the tectonic movements of the earth, and you can hear the magma flowing under our feet and our bones crackling like a wild fire, and you can see the light of fireflies reflected in polished metal, and there is nothing magical about that, it is just the way things are, and sometimes we have to raise our voice because the music is too loud and let your clothes move to a powerful bass, sound waves and bright lights, powerful like the sun, blinding us if we stare for too long, but isn't it the biggest sign of love, like singing to a corn field, and all acts of kindness that are not pitiful nor utilitarian, that are truly horizontal as everything around us is impregnated with the deadliest violence, vertical and systemic, poisonous, and sometimes you just want to feel the sun burning your skin and look for life in all things declared dead, a kind of vitality that operates like corrosion, strong as the wind near the sea, transforming all things,

In his first New York City exhibition in 2009, titled The TV Show, PEET organized the concept around characters he coined «The Luxury Leaders» and «The Resistants» — symbolic metaphors for white - collar corporate America versus the anti-materialist, subcultural underbelly.3 Considering these fragmented story lines of rebellion and subversion, alongside the fact that the artist is sometimes positioned somewhere nearby covertly broadcasting an element of live feed into the gallery space, somehow it doesn't seem a stretch to imagine a grinning PEET tucked away in a dingy basement making human lard soap, à la Brad Pitt's nihilistic Tyler Durden from the 1999 film Fight Club.

Looking at these circular structures on a wall, the loudest sound in the orchestra is only a distant memory, the rhythms floating somewhere in the past; now the worn scuffs imbue peace and tranquility, an Agnes Martin for the Millennium, windows of human life and expression.

And nobody will need to tell them that their lives are fraught, difficult and dangerous — just as no - one needs to tell the climate refugee children who today are dying of starvation and disease; rotting in refugee camps as prey for radicalizing terrorist recruiters, human traffickers, or sexual predators; or just drowning quietly somewhere in the Mediterranean.

But I think fertilizing vast sterile ocean with iron and creating more food for ocean life [and consequently more food from humans] is a better way to go - you using CO2 for a good purpose rather just storing somewhere - and storing CO2 in gas / ice form has some possibility being suddenly released some way, whereas CO2 in skeleton of tiny creatures most likely ends up as limestone.

We are probably now somewhere near the hottest climate humans have ever lived in (mainly because we are in an interglacial), so anything much warmer is uncharted territory.

I could even say that «best science» tells me there has to be life on another planet somewhere, that statistically it is obvious that at least one planet has intelligent life that has been around longer than we humans, ergo an extraterrestrial invasion is certain and could well occur imminently.

I'm guessing that somewhere about 25,000 years ago humans first arrived on the shore of the Arctic Sea and started living there.....

Somewhere in that life insurance policy must be something written so small and obscurely that it can never be found by a mere human that excludes my family from being paid no matter how I die.