My brain has become somewhat mushy over the last month or so, and I feel the need to give it a good workout. If people could give me some topics or questions to ponder over in my free time, it would be much appreciated. 

Let’s say you have an ax. Just a cheap one, from Home Depot. On one bitter winter day, you use said ax to behead a man. Don’t worry, the man was already dead. Or maybe you should worry, because you’re the one who shot him. 

 

He had been a big, twitchy guy with veiny skin stretched over swollen biceps, a tattoo of a swastika on his tongue. Teeth filed into razor-sharp fangs, you know the type. And you’re chopping off his head because, even with eight bullet holes in him, you’re pretty sure he’s about to spring back to his feet and eat the look of terror right off your face. 

 

On the follow-through of the last swing, though, the handle of the ax snaps in a spray of splinters. You now have a broken ax. So, after a long night of looking for a place to dump the man and his head, you take a trip into town with your ax. You go to the hardware store, explaining away the dark reddish stains on the broken handle as barbecue sauce. You walk out with a brand new handle for your ax. 

 

The repaired ax sits undisturbed in your garage until the next spring when, on one rainy morning, you find in your kitchen a creature that appears to be a foot-long slug with a bulging egg sac on its tail. Its jaws bite one of your forks in half with what seems like very little effort. You grab your trusty ax and chop the thing into several pieces. On the last blow, however, the ax strikes a metal leg of the overturned kitchen table and chips out a notch right in the middle of the blade. 

 

Of course, a chipped head means yet another trip to the hardware store. They sell you a brand new head for your ax. As soon as you get home with your newly-headed ax, though, you meet the reanimated body of the guy you beheaded last year. He’s also got a new head, stitched on with what looks like plastic weed trimmer line, and it’s wearing that unique expression of “you’re the man who killed me last winter” resentment that one so rarely encounters in everyday life. 

 

You brandish your ax. The guy takes a long look at the weapon with his squishy, rotting eyes and in a gargly voice he screams, “That’s the same ax that slayed me!” 

 

Is he right?

Devise a way to create the perfect system of government for the entire earth. THAT'S a thinker.

 

Peace!

 

Let’s say you have an ax. Just a cheap one, from Home Depot. On one bitter winter day, you use said ax to behead a man. Don’t worry, the man was already dead. Or maybe you should worry, because you’re the one who shot him. 

 

He had been a big, twitchy guy with veiny skin stretched over swollen biceps, a tattoo of a swastika on his tongue. Teeth filed into razor-sharp fangs, you know the type. And you’re chopping off his head because, even with eight bullet holes in him, you’re pretty sure he’s about to spring back to his feet and eat the look of terror right off your face. 

 

On the follow-through of the last swing, though, the handle of the ax snaps in a spray of splinters. You now have a broken ax. So, after a long night of looking for a place to dump the man and his head, you take a trip into town with your ax. You go to the hardware store, explaining away the dark reddish stains on the broken handle as barbecue sauce. You walk out with a brand new handle for your ax. 

 

The repaired ax sits undisturbed in your garage until the next spring when, on one rainy morning, you find in your kitchen a creature that appears to be a foot-long slug with a bulging egg sac on its tail. Its jaws bite one of your forks in half with what seems like very little effort. You grab your trusty ax and chop the thing into several pieces. On the last blow, however, the ax strikes a metal leg of the overturned kitchen table and chips out a notch right in the middle of the blade. 

 

Of course, a chipped head means yet another trip to the hardware store. They sell you a brand new head for your ax. As soon as you get home with your newly-headed ax, though, you meet the reanimated body of the guy you beheaded last year. He’s also got a new head, stitched on with what looks like plastic weed trimmer line, and it’s wearing that unique expression of “you’re the man who killed me last winter” resentment that one so rarely encounters in everyday life. 

 

You brandish your ax. The guy takes a long look at the weapon with his squishy, rotting eyes and in a gargly voice he screams, “That’s the same ax that slayed me!” 

 

Is he right?

 

 

No. All the parts of the ax have been replaced since you beheaded him. Not to mention, you killed him with bullets, not the ax.

 

 

A man walks through the rainforest, holding a frog. He seems to be desperately searching for something, continually looking at the frog in his hand for reference. He continues through the rainforest like this, not picking up any other frogs he happens across. He is definitely searching for another frog like the one he's holding. Then, he feels a drop of rain. More rain continues. He looks at the frog in his hand, then puts it down. He tells it sorry, then runs for it.

 

Who was the man?

 

Hint 1:

 

The species of frog he was holding is now extinct.

 

 

Hint 2:

 

The frog he was holding was male. He was looking for a female mate.

 

 

Super Hint:

 

The man comes from an ancient story that is still well known.

 

 

Let’s say you have an ax. Just a cheap one, from Home Depot. On one bitter winter day, you use said ax to behead a man. Don’t worry, the man was already dead. Or maybe you should worry, because you’re the one who shot him. 

 

He had been a big, twitchy guy with veiny skin stretched over swollen biceps, a tattoo of a swastika on his tongue. Teeth filed into razor-sharp fangs, you know the type. And you’re chopping off his head because, even with eight bullet holes in him, you’re pretty sure he’s about to spring back to his feet and eat the look of terror right off your face. 

 

On the follow-through of the last swing, though, the handle of the ax snaps in a spray of splinters. You now have a broken ax. So, after a long night of looking for a place to dump the man and his head, you take a trip into town with your ax. You go to the hardware store, explaining away the dark reddish stains on the broken handle as barbecue sauce. You walk out with a brand new handle for your ax. 

 

The repaired ax sits undisturbed in your garage until the next spring when, on one rainy morning, you find in your kitchen a creature that appears to be a foot-long slug with a bulging egg sac on its tail. Its jaws bite one of your forks in half with what seems like very little effort. You grab your trusty ax and chop the thing into several pieces. On the last blow, however, the ax strikes a metal leg of the overturned kitchen table and chips out a notch right in the middle of the blade. 

 

Of course, a chipped head means yet another trip to the hardware store. They sell you a brand new head for your ax. As soon as you get home with your newly-headed ax, though, you meet the reanimated body of the guy you beheaded last year. He’s also got a new head, stitched on with what looks like plastic weed trimmer line, and it’s wearing that unique expression of “you’re the man who killed me last winter” resentment that one so rarely encounters in everyday life. 

 

You brandish your ax. The guy takes a long look at the weapon with his squishy, rotting eyes and in a gargly voice he screams, “That’s the same ax that slayed me!” 

 

Is he right?

 

 

I don't believe he is, because he was shot to death prior to my hitting him with the axe.

 

Devise a way to create the perfect system of government for the entire earth. THAT'S a thinker.

 

Peace!

 

I will ponder over this one. It sounds like fun.

 

 

No. All the parts of the ax have been replaced since you beheaded him. Not to mention, you killed him with bullets, not the ax.

 

 

A man walks through the rainforest, holding a frog. He seems to be desperately searching for something, continually looking at the frog in his hand for reference. He continues through the rainforest like this, not picking up any other frogs he happens across. He is definitely searching for another frog like the one he's holding. Then, he feels a drop of rain. More rain continues. He looks at the frog in his hand, then puts it down. He tells it sorry, then runs for it.

 

Who was the man?

 

Hint 1:

 

The species of frog he was holding is now extinct.

 

 

Hint 2:

 

The frog he was holding was male. He was looking for a female mate.

 

 

Super Hint:

 

The man comes from an ancient story that is still well known.

 

 

I think it's Noah (I admit to looking at the first hint).

-An Importance of Being Hayner, Pence, and Olette. You haven't done one of those things in a while, and those three are one of two trios in the franchise that gets the luxury of actually being friends who do friend-like stuff.

 

-A thought exercise: would you rather be in a group where you're abused at the bottom of the pecking order, or completely alone? You're not in a position to improve your situation, so it's pretty much either-or. It's hard to say whether the constant abuse would be better or worse than total isolation.

 

-Some education on the mindset of a sociopath, one who literally does not have the tools we do to feel empathy. I've been reading about them recently, and it actually managed to unsettle me -- being unequipped to truly connect with other human beings is something I can't wrap my mind around. Even more unsettling is that for all I can't stand to lose them, it's the emotions we can't imagine functioning without that might turn us into hypocrites. If they weren't so busy being villains, Organization XIII could've pushed this a lot further than they did.

I don't believe he is, because he was shot to death prior to my hitting him with the axe.

 

 

I will ponder over this one. It sounds like fun.

 

 

I think it's Noah (I admit to looking at the first hint).

Correct!

A Bosmer, was slain. The Altmer claims the Dunmer is guilty. The Dunmer says the Khajiit did it. The Orc swears he didn't kill the Bosmer. The Khajiit says the Dunmer is lying. If only one of these speaks the truth, who killed the Bosmer?

PonysizedSpear/LanceofLonginus /shot.

 

Serious answer:

 

A man is found dead in a room. He's been shot several times through the heart. Surrounding him are fifty three eagles, some with blood on them, some without blood.

 

Why was he killed?

Edited February 14, 201510 yr by Lelouchanort Vi Nearamoto

or earnest pleasure, and the strengthening of the mind, the author here collects all that he has learned of the art of riddling, by dint of diligent study, and through years of discourse with others of similar inclination.

The posing and puzzling of riddles is a convention of polite aristocratic Western society. Nobles and social aspirants collect books of riddles and study them, hoping thereby to increase the chances of their appearing sly and witty in conversation.

A metal neither black nor red

As heavy as man's golden greed

What you do to stay ahead

With friend or arrow or steed

A Bosmer, was slain. The Altmer claims the Dunmer is guilty. The Dunmer says the Khajiit did it. The Orc swears he didn't kill the Bosmer. The Khajiit says the Dunmer is lying. If only one of these speaks the truth, who killed the Bosmer?

 

Assuming that the true statement is "The Khajit says the Dunmer is lying," that would mean that the Dunmer is incorrect in his accusation of the Khajit, that the Altmer's claim of the Dunmer being guilty is false, and that the Orc's swear of not killing the Bosmer is false. Therefore, the Orc killed the Bosmer.

 

PonysizedSpear/LanceofLonginus /shot.

 

Serious answer:

 

A man is found dead in a room. He's been shot several times through the heart. Surrounding him are fifty three eagles, some with blood on them, some without blood.

 

Why has he killed?

 

Just to clarify: is it supposed to read "Why HAS he killed," or "Why WAS he killed?"

Assuming that the true statement is "The Khajit says the Dunmer is lying," that would mean that the Dunmer is incorrect in his accusation of the Khajit, that the Altmer's claim of the Dunmer being guilty is false, and that the Orc's swear of not killing the Bosmer is false. Therefore, the Orc killed the Bosmer.

 

 

Just to clarify: is it supposed to read "Why HAS he killed," or "Why WAS he killed?"

Gah.

 

Tyops, tyops everywhere.

 

Why WAS he killed.

 

Editing. 

Can hatred/evil without distinction be considered true hate/evil? Assuming it's possible for someone to hate everything unequivocally, hatred still implies preferring something else -- "I hate [X] because it [doesn't fulfill Y reason]". If one's attitude somehow truly despises everything, in a way, their hate becomes meaningless, because it's all the same to them, on the same level. In that case, it kind of becomes a neutral force.

 

It's hard to answer because no one can truly hate literally everything in existence. The closest I can come to hate and destruction without distinction are natural phenomenons like tornadoes. Tornadoes don't destroy because they hate something. They destroy because they do. But tornadoes are little more than forces, non-sentient and not acting any way beyond what nature built them to do. Assuming it's possible for a sentient, free-willed being to hate everything in the world, would you really call it hatred if there's nothing he doesn't hate?

What would happen if Pinocchio said "My nose will grow now"? Will it, or will it not and why?