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“Peace with non-fundamentalists terrifies the fundamentalist because to them, being Christian doesn't mean just being 'good' - it means being 'better' than others. Being better that others means having to see them as enemies - and making war on them. The fundamentalist views not being allowed to make war on their enemies as oppression of their faith, or defeat.”

“The religious right sees every group trying to achieve equality with them as a threat, because if they become equal to them, THEY won't be able to abuse their human rights anymore. Giving other people equality WITH THEM, in their minds takes something away from THEM - POWER - and that TERRIFIES them. It scares them shitless.”

“The Beetle’s body, whether it be a ’49 split or a ’73 Jeans Bug, or an ‘03 Mexican, was originally conceived in the mid 1930’s. This is evident in it’s body styling which aside from it’s rear engine layout and absence of front radiator (or radiator!) grille, is very similar to other cars of the same period. Believe it or not, in those days streamlining was a hot new concept, kind of like how wireless networking is today with computing. The only problem was, in the beginning they didn’t seem to realize that streamlining ought to be applied sideways as well as longitudinally!”

“Half-Lieutenant Marsh’k Kluss’ta was not a happy man. Naturally, that didn’t bother him as things were rarely otherwise. As the commanding sub-officer of the Black Sunrise, happiness was not a state of mind expected of him, though in reality – our reality – he was probably not such a bad person. The crew, though terrified of him even under normal circumstances, believed that he had the heart of a little child. (Let’s leave it at that, shall we?)”

“This is not your standard “How to restore” your VW Beetle book. It’s also not a workshop manual. Aside from a basic rundown on the differences between various bug models through the years, there is a section on some things you can do to preserve your bug. Mostly however, what I’ve done is reviewed all the things I did to my bugs and put those ideas together as cheap, skillful, cheap, d.i.y, cheap means of enhancing your grocery getter’s performance and handling.”

“Secure the exit!” He ordered. “Shut the doors! Don’t let any of them through!” One of his juniors nodded, turned, and ran for the exit, just as the sergeant took two hits in the shoulder pad and lower back armor that knocked him to his knees. He collapsed, blood spraying from a wound in his neck, eyes opened wide. The last thing he saw was the burst of fire from a nearby Corsair that took him down as well.”

“If all people were to be judged by ‘right and wrong’, nobody would be wholly right or wholly wrong - for have not all people ‘sinned and fallen from the glory of God’? It seems more than a little unfair (and unhinged) that some folks with at least as much ‘sin’ themselves as any gay or trans person, like to jump up and down and point fingers at what other people are up to in their own lives.”

“Being the commander of a Ruminarii war vessel meant that he had risen to the rank by means of assassination and ruthlessness and was therefore implicitly distrusted by the Tidhii Mah’k’hai (Naval Command, that is The Queen Of Suth Herself.) He was expected to mete out, in generous portions, brutality to conquered subjects and to act swiftly and mercilessly in dealing with alien encounters. In short, he was expected to be a bad example.”

“While many people define being a man or a woman as being dependent on reproductive capacity, it is worth noting (should such a superficial argument present itself) that there are many males and females who are born male or female and cannot reproduce either – and yet they are not considered ‘not male’ or ‘not female’? This is a hypocritical standard that is only applied to judge transgender people.”

“Lt. Denice Barnum at the helm gave a sigh, then replaced her nail file on the control panel, beside her spray bottle of nail varnish and "like steel" hardener. "Sir?" "What's wrong with this picture?" he said, pointing at his plate. The youth looked. He looked at Marnetti. "Nothing, sir...looks normal to me, sir." "Look again." He looked harder. He squinted. "Sir?" Marnetti sighed. "This is stewed Kwarracks, isn't it, son?" “Yessir." The lad nodded. "Well, as far as I know, Kwarracks is supposed to be dead when you eat it, not so?" "Yessir." He agreed. "This one's still waving its tentacles.”