Volen-told to to reduce pricing?

I only said no. 

What I should have said was ask your mother.

Exception paradox: if every rule has an exception, then there must be an exception to the rule that every rule has an exception.

From the logical point of view, this can be taken as a proof that the sentence "every rule has an exception" is false - a simple example of a proof technique known as reductio ad absurdum. More formally,

1. Every rule has an exception. (Statement)
2. "Every rule has an exception" has an exception. (By 1)
3. There exists some rule R without exception. (By 2)
4. Since R is a rule, by the first statement it must have an exception. But by 3, it does not have an exception - a contradiction.

Or, in another view:

1. Every rule has an exception. (Statement)
2. "Every rule has an exception" has an exception. (By 1)
3. There exists some rule R without exception. (By 2)
4. Since R is a rule, by the first statement it must have an exception. Therefore, the statement should be the only rule that doesn´t have an exception, what could be called a contradiction.
5. The rule itself represents its own exception, because it should be the only rule without an exception.

In this last point of view there isn´t a contradiction but a systematic interpretation. This is a reason why it could not be considered a real paradox. Otherwise, the sentence could be read: "Every other rule, except this one, has an exception." This is a hermeneutic rule, saving the meaning, and represents a common technique applied on legal and constitutional norms, by extracting from the different interpretations of the statement the possible one, even if implicit.

 

It's become a tradition at my house that after lunch as I'm leaving to go back to the grind . . .

My lady walks through the kitchen and out to the garage with me, we take the "long walk" together

as a condemned man being led to the chair.


She often reminds me to grab my silk noose and nametag as we proceed.

Words of sympathy are offered, yet it soothes me not.


The garage door opens and it's as if a ledge above a chasm is spread before me.

There's no turning back, no pardon, no reprieve.


And so . . .  I leave the security and warmth of my humble abode and trudge headlong into the machine.

The factory has spoken - judgement rendered, sentence to be carried out immediately.


So when the preacher comes to get me , and they shave off all my hair.

Will you take that long walk with me knowing hell is waiting there.

Could you pull that switch yourself sir? With a sure and steady hand

Would you still tell yourself sir, that you're better than I am?



"Have fun at work dear" she calls out with stinging sarcasm.

"Yeah right." I respond & we laugh, "I'll be in a better mood tonight"

"yeah right" She responds & we laugh.


Although I laugh inside I weep.





 

Today was a great day.  A one shirt day.

Why?  I was only there about half the time.

And when I was there management wasn't.

And even better  - a slow day.

The lack of the whip and drum was a welcomed break.

I took the opportunity to buy some flakey snacks for my comrades.

I would have baked them myself but it's the thought that counts.

Cherry Turnovers and a Cinnimon Ring encrusted with icing and almond slivers.

They deserve it.  


So sad we all have to climb back into the grinder tomorrow.

We should be a little sweeter for those who dine on us.