BONEY BLEAK

A joyous celebration of pessimism, melancholia and weary resignation.

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“WE ARE all just food for rust.”

Dead End

From his Transformers Universe profile: Sullen and fatalistic, Dead End sees little reason to continue the Autobot-Decepticon War since all Transformers eventually become inoperative anyway, even though it might take tens of thousands of years. Yet he spends more time keeping himself unmarred and shiny than any of his fellow Stunticons, an irony not lost upon Motormaster, who speculates that Dead End wants to at least make sure he leaves a pretty wreck when he dies.

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“PHILOSOPHY, like medicine, offers many drugs, little relief, and almost no cures.”

Chamfort

[ashtunxx]

Untitled on We Heart It.

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“TO WHOM it concerns, I'm sorry I failed. It seems I was utterly wrong to suppose That by having the time I would finish the job, Although I have put in the hours, God knows. Hours of carryouts, hours of rain, Hours of indulgence mired in gloom – I've tried and I've tried. I've even tried prose, But the money's no good and I don't like the room.”

Sean O'Brien, 'In Residence: A Worst Case View'

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“I READ with some amusement my reputation as a ladies' man. My friends are amused by that, too, because they know my life. Even when I was younger I was never aware of it, to tell the truth, so I could not take advantage of it. But for someone who has that sort of reputation and has spent so many nights alone, it has a special bitter amusement attached to it.”

Leonard Cohen

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“THE PHYSICAL world seems like the work of a powerful and good being, who was obliged to abandon the execution of a part of its plan to some mischievous creature. But the moral world seems like it resulted from the caprices of a devil who went mad.”

Chamfort

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“OPTIMISTS are the very worst kind of people – always making the rest of us feel bad about how bad we feel.”

Anon.

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“IN ANY CASE, I cannot be of any use to you and your students nowadays, since, at 84, I resemble nothing so much as an iguana, hate travel, and have nothing to say. I might as well send a spent Roman candle in my stead."

Kurt Vonnegut, in a letter to Professor Alice Fulton, February 6, 2007, two months and five days before he died.