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The universe may be infinite, but ex boyfriends are certainly not.
In the early days of evolutionary linguistics, Babelists used to taunt French-speaking evolutionists with cries of "Your father was a Roman!" W[rathful] D[ispersion], by contrast, acknowledges that languages can indeed change over time, and some Wrathful Dispersionists even concede that modern French, Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, Romanian, and so on may actually have developed from Latin after all. The existence of Latin itself, however, and its mutual unintelligibility with, say, Old Church Slavonic or Proto-Bantu, could only have arisen through the wrath of the disperser. When asked to provide evidence for the existence of a single global language in pre-dispersion times, they reply that of course no such evidence can be found, because the disperser in his wrath was quite careful to obliterate all traces of it.The Flying Stratificational Grammar Monster makes a later appearance. Go forth and read.
mom_almighty strikes again!
In the beginning, there was The Idea.
And the National Geographic guys trekked upon camels through distant lands and arrived at a meeting with the studio execs in a manger filled with straw, and lo the camels did rest and frolic with the sheep and cows and other manger-dwelling animals.
And the National Geographic guys said unto the studio execs, We want to make a feature-length film about penguins.
And lo, the studio execs did roll their eyes.
And the National Geographic guys said unto them, 93.2% of the film will be nothing more than birds either walking around or standing still, against a white background that essentially never changes.
And the studio execs said unto them, You whack jobs! What made you think we'd green-light a project that sounds so derivative and boring that it makes Gigli look avant-garde by comparison? Did you arrive here on the Special Bus?
And lo, the National Geographic guys despaired.
But then, an angel appeared before the studio execs and He said unto them, Behold! For I am Morgan Freeman! And I will narrate your bird movie.
And the studio execs looked at each other and said unto Him, o_O_o. This is a whole different thing now. For you, Morgan Freeman, are one kickass mofo, and we will roll with you 'til the wheels fall off.
And thus, on the cold winter's night, in the manger, surrounded by the studio execs and the National Geographic guys and the camels and the sheep and the cows and the angel Morgan Freeman, March Of The Penguins was born.
And the world rejoiced.
And it was Good.
Disclaimer: It actually was really good. I enjoyed it immensely. I just had to give props to Morgan Freeman, because only he could turn footage of a bunch of penguins walking around on a glacier into a riveting movie with plot and danger and romance and everything. He is one kickass mofo