webcomic with thrice-weekly updates created by Randall Munroe From Wikiquote, the free quote compendium
xkcd is a webcomic created by Randall Munroe, a former contractor for NASA. He describes it as "a webcomic of romance, sarcasm, math, and language." Munroe states there is no particular meaning to the name and it is simply a "treasured and carefully-guarded point in the space of four-character strings."
Hat Man: I aspire to have more creativity than the common asshole.
Hat Man: I'm more of a classy asshole -- A class-hole, if you will. For example, I like poking tiny holes in styrofoam noodle cups at the grocery store--
Hat Man: Thanks to me, someone gets surprise boiling water in the lap.
Gamer: You know, our love is like a katamari. We travel along, rolling up more and more of the world into our shared experience, taking it and making it our own.
Gamer: The clutter of everyday life, with a simple core to tie it together, eventually becomes something grand as the world itself.
Hat Man: Dear Sony, Microsoft, the MPAA, the RIAA, and Apple: Let's make a deal. You stop trying to tell me where, when and how I play my movies and music, and I won't crush your homes under my inexorably advancing wall of ice.
Narrator: It's been over a decade since Jurassic Park opened, and I still size up buildings for their potential as shelter against velociraptor attacks.
Narrator: Related to moral relativism, it states that ethics become subjective only when you approach the speed of light. That is, it's okay to be self-serving, steal, and murder as long as you're going really, really fast. (Note: This is why rap sounds better on the highway at 90 MPH)
Man: The infinite possibilities each day holds should stagger the mind. The sheer number of experiences I could have is uncountable, breathtaking, and I'm sitting here refreshing my inbox. We live trapped in loops, reliving a few days over and over, and we envision only a handful of paths laid out ahead of us. We see the same things each day, we respond the same way, we think the same thoughts, each day a slight variation on the last, every moment smoothly following the gentle curves of societal norms. We act like if we just get through today, tomorrow our dreams will come back to us.
Man: And no, I don't have all the answers. I don't know how to jolt myself into seeing what each moment could become. But I do know one thing: the solution doesn't involve watering down my every little idea and creative impulse for the sake of some day easing my fit into a mold. It doesn't involve tempering my life to better fit someone's expectations. It doesn't involve constantly holding back for fear of shaking things up.
Man: This is very important, so I want to say it as clearly as I can: FUCK. THAT. SHIT.
Narrator: I feel uncomfortable when my computer physically struggles with me. Sure, I can overpower it now, but it feels like a few short steps from here to the robot war.
Alter-Self: Take wrong turns. Talk to strangers. Open unmarked doors. And if you see a group of people in a field, go find out what they're doing. Do things without always knowing how they'll turn out.
Self: Why tell me this?
Alter-Self: You're curious and smart and bored, and all you see is the choice between working hard and slacking off. There are so many adventures that you miss because you're waiting to think of a plan. To find them, look for tiny interesting choices. And remember that you are always making up the future as you go.
Self: Wait a minute; have you brought me here before?
Man: Just once, I want a real action movie. 30 seconds of exposition followed by a perfect 90-minute action scene. One with a huge budget, a good choreographer, and a great director.
Woman: And they should center it around some character we already know, someone we never get tired of watching.
Man: I think we've got something here...
Narrator: Coming this summer: RIVER TAM BEATS UP EVERYONE
Narrator: [in the dark; clock reads 4:31] Lying awake at night. I realize how many little lights there are in my room. The alarm clock is the brightest. [clock now reads 4:32] Can't sleep. I'm alone with these glowing red numbers. Time slows. Does time even exist here? [clock now reads 4:33] Thoughts churning in on themselves. The madness can't be far away. [clock now reads 13:72] Ah, yes. There it is.
Alt Text: Crap, I have levitation class at 25:131. Better set the alarm to "cinnamon".
Narrator: Megan and I first met at a party at her sister's.
Narrator: We hit it off, opened up, shared secrets, and talked about everything. Around us, the party waned, but we hid from sleep together, talking through the deepest hours of the night.
Narrator: The dawn found us curled up on a couch, asleep but still together.
Narrator: That experience, connecting with a stranger and falling recklessly in love, is one of life's greatest joys.
Narrator: And now that you're married, you'll never experience it again.
Narrator: It's the price you pay for everlasting love. It's a small one, but I hope it stings a little.
Narrator: Anyway, I wish you and Megan the best.
Narrator: ...Hey, man, you asked me to do a toast.
Alt Text: Someday the 'In Popular Culture' section will have its own article with an 'In Popular Culture' section. It will reference this title-text referencing it, and the blogosphere will implode.
Narrator: Thinking of buying from Audible.com or iTunes? Remember, if you pirate something, it's yours for life. You can take it anywhere, and it will always work.
Narrator: But if you buy DRM-locked media, and you ever switch operating systems or new technology comes along, your collection could be lost. And if you try to keep it, you'll be a criminal (DMCA 1201).
Narrator: So remember, if you want a collection you can count on, pirate it. Hey, you'll be a criminal either way.
Narrator: (If you don't like this, demand DRM-free files)
Narrator: Trivia: It's possible to create events which Wikipedia can't cover neutrally.
Hat Man: In a week, I will be donating $1,000,000 to a recipient determined by the word count of the Wikipedia article about this event. If it's even, the money goes to pro-choice activists. If it's odd, pro-life.
Woman: I've realized that I always secretly root for hurricanes. I watch the news hoping that they'll get really big and hit a city. I know my hopes don't actually affect it, but I feel bad.
Hat Man: Nah, that's just natural human attraction to spectacle. It's like watching the shuttle launch because you don't want to miss it if there's a disaster.
Woman: ...I guess?
Hat Man: Or dressing as an intern to sneak into operating rooms, in case a patient dies and you can watch them harvesting organs.
Woman: Wait, you do that?
Hat Man: Or stealing detour signs to direct highway drivers down backwoods roads strewn with caltrops. After the tires burst, you start shooting out their windows.
Hat Man: Then, when they flee the car in terror, you hunt them on horseback, like men once did.
Woman: I realized a while back that we're having entirely different conversations.
Man: But if you're worried about bombs, why are you letting me keep my laptop batteries? If I overvolted them and breached the cells, it would make a sizeable explosion.
Woman: Oh God.
Man: It's okay, dear. In a moment he'll realize I have a good point and return my water.
Man: When you take apart a Lego house and mix the pieces into the bin, where does the house go?
Woman: It's in the bin.
Man: No, those are just pieces. They could become spaceships or trains. The house was just an arrangement. The arrangement doesn't stay with the pieces and it doesn't go anywhere else. It's just gone.
Man 1: [going through the contents of a bookshelf] All your books are full of blank pages.
Man 2: Not true. That one has some ink on page 78.
Man 1: A smudge. Man 2: So?
Man 1: There are no words. You're not reading. There's no story there.
Man 2: Maybe not for you. When I look at those books, I think about all kinds of stories. Reading is about more than what's on the page. Holding a book prompts my mind to enrich itself. Frankly, I suspect the book isn't even necessary. The whole industry is evil. Greedy publishers and rich authors try to convince us our brains need their words. But I refuse to be a sucker.
Narrator: Protip: If you're not sure what to say, try "So it has come to this"–-it creates instant dramatic tension and is a valid observation in literally any situation.
Alt Text: A human is a system for converting dust billions of years ago into dust billions of years from now via a roundabout process which involves checking email a lot.
I don’t know why
they do this because whenever I reach the phrase “shoot jets of blood
from their eyes” in an article I just stop there and stare at it until I
need to lie down.
In the first kind of system, the two stars are close together and the planet goes around them far away. This kind of planet is called a circumbinary planet. In the second kind of system, the two stars are farther apart, and the planet orbits one of them[1] while the other stays far away. This kind of planet is called [the other kind of planet].