Greetings and salutations!

Question of the Day:

If a tree falls in the forest, and crushes a wandering hermit before he can scream, and then falls into a river and floats away, is the square of the hypotenuse of a traingle equal to the sum of the IQs in the White House?

Fictional Dreams
Soft whispers rest behind my eyes, weaving tales of tragic glory and tortured romance. In their ringing hollows they sing songs of days long past and dreams long forgotten, it is music of the lavishly damned. In it I am weeping and embraced - I seek no rapture from these angelic ghosts.