Birthdays

The Giant Sundial of Jantar Mantar in Jaipur, India, is also known as the Samrat Yantra, or The Supreme Instrument. It stands 27 meters tall. Its shadow moves visibly at 1 mm per second, or roughly a hand's breadth every minute.

“When was the beginning of modernism?” Silence. “Anyone?” We all sort of collectively shuffled our feet.
“The industrial revolution?” said a mousey voice from the front of the room.
“An excellent guess. The industrial revolution took place in the nineteenth century, and as the 19th century progressed, the exercise of artistic freedom became fundamental to artist. That is a very good guess, but it is not the only one. Anyone else?”
“The French Revolution.” I said flatly.
“Excellent, Enlightenment thinking and the notion of freedom contributed to the idea of modernism; liberty was declared one of man's inalienable rights. It is in the ideals of the Enlightenment that the roots of Modernism, and the new role of art and the artist, are to be found. Anyone else?”
Quiet.
“Well believe it or not I was asked this same question when I applied for a job at the University of the South some years ago. I gave the answers you did, and expounded on them. Finally, when I was through, one member of the panel chimed in and said ‘We believe it was in 1648 with the founding of the Ecole des Beaux Arts...”

"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
The Walrus did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."
...

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

“What was the name of the guy that discovered the chicken?” asked D. taking another bite of dinner.
“What honey?”
“You know, who was the first guy to eat a chicken?”
“You mean who looked at a chicken and thought ‘Mmmmmmn, that looks good.’” asked J.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know.” said J., then, looking at me “Do apes eat meat?”
“Sometimes.” I said, pulling the shrimp tail out of my mouth.

O God! methinks it were a happy life
To be no better than a homely swain;
To sit upon a hill, as I do now,
To carve out dials, quaintly, point by point,
Thereby to see the minutes, how they run--
How many makes the hour full complete,
How many hours brings about the day,
How many days will finish up the year,
How many years a mortal man may live;
When this is known, then to divide the times--
So many hours must I tend my flock,
So many hours must I take my rest,
So many hours must I contemplate,
So many hours must I sport myself;
So many days my ewes have been with young,
So many weeks ere the poor fools will ean,
So many months ere I shall shear the fleece.
So minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years,
Passed over to the end they were created,
Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave.
Ah, what a life were this! -Henry the VI, Pt II