SNYDERMANIA: Flying Pigs #22

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Flying Pigs #22

SNYDER COMICS #22

Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.

7 comments:

Clif said...: Welcome back! I needed a Flying Pigs fix...

P.S. My photoblog has a new home - www.azphotoblog.com; October 7, 2010 at 9:40 AM
Susan R. Mills said...: Always love the flying pigs!; October 7, 2010 at 9:59 AM
JJ said...: “The knack of flying is learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss.”
~ Douglas Adams; October 7, 2010 at 2:37 PM
Kavita Saharia said...: Good one !
How are you Snyder ?; October 7, 2010 at 6:31 PM
ISRAEL CARRASCO said...: cool post. How have you been. Sorry for being absent for so long but this week was hectic but I'll try to be more active in the blogging world.; October 9, 2010 at 5:14 PM
Guely of Sweden said...: We can't have one without the other!; October 10, 2010 at 8:38 AM
#167 Dad said...: Clif,
It's good to be back and the new site looks great.; October 10, 2010 at 10:45 AM

NORTHERN EXPOSURE

Goethe's final words: "More light." Ever since we crawled out of that primordial slime, that's been our unifying cry: "More light." Sunlight. Torchlight. Candlight. Neon. Incandescent. Lights that banish the darkness from our caves, to illuminate our roads, the insides of our refrigerators. Big floods for the night games at Soldier's field. Little tiny flashlight for those books we read under the covers when we're supposed to be asleep. Light is more than watts and footcandles. Light is metaphor. Thy word is a lamp unto my feet. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom Lead Thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home- Lead Thou me on! Arise, shine, for thy light has come. Light is knowledge. Light is life. Light is light.

FIELD OF DREAMS

Well, you know I... I never got to bat in the major leagues. I would have liked to have had that chance. Just once. To stare down a big league pitcher. To stare him down, and just as he goes into his windup, wink. Make him think you know something he doesn't. That's what I wish for. Chance to squint at a sky so blue that it hurts your eyes just to look at it. To feel the tingling in your arm as you connect with the ball. To run the bases - stretch a double into a triple, and flop face-first into third, wrap your arms around the bag. That's my wish, Ray Kinsella. That's my wish. And is there enough magic out there in the moonlight to make this dream come true?