The act of fishing for information, either from a gullible paying customer or from an audience who have just been told to be "open-minded", in which any positive feedback is followed deftly as though coming in "on the astral".
Cold reading:
Hello, I'm getting something ... there is someone who has recently died ... yes, someone has, hasn't they? ... a man, no I didn't think so, either, a woman then, an old woman ... no, dreadful isn't it? ... I'm thinking cancer, no?... a car crash ... yes, and it was tragic, and she was before her time too, would I be correct in saying this? ...
Hello, I'm getting something ... there is someone who has recently died ... yes, someone has, hasn't they? ... a man, no I didn't think so, either, a woman then, an old woman ... no, dreadful isn't it? ... I'm thinking cancer, no?... a car crash ... yes, and it was tragic, and she was before her time too, would I be correct in saying this? ...
by Fearman March 11, 2008
by Fearman November 22, 2007
1) When beauty, complexity, philosophy, genius and sensuality all have a gang bang together, this misbegotten but wondrous creation ensues.
2) What Jack Nicholson makes until someone dies.
3) Something that turns up in eXistenZ, when Willem Dafoe mentions a video games called ArtGod, as in "ThouArtGod".
2) What Jack Nicholson makes until someone dies.
3) Something that turns up in eXistenZ, when Willem Dafoe mentions a video games called ArtGod, as in "ThouArtGod".
by Fearman August 31, 2007
I had everything worked out just fine for the party, and then Marjorie just had to come along and whup the bunny for everyone.
by Fearman March 04, 2008
Industry practised by Japan, Norway, Iceland and Russia, which affords Greenpeace a badly needed opportunity to do something useful.
The Japanese have resumed whaling again. Whether Greenpeace will get off their anti-GM backsides and hop in the dinghies again is another matter.
by Fearman April 11, 2008
Popular local name for the statue of Molly Malone selling shellfish out of a cart, mounted on the pavement between the main gates of Trinity College and Grafton Street, Dublin, Ireland.
Ya gadda love the tart with the cart. Nice jugs on her. The oysters would probably taste as good as they ever did.
by Fearman December 10, 2007
Alternative genre of Harry Potter fandom featuring story lines in which the Dark Lord Voldemort turns out to be Harry's dad. Influenced by an obscure line of space adventure movies coming from southern California via Tunisia, Italy and Norway, inter alia.
Typical scene from the vaults of Darth Voldism:
Voldemort scanned the graveyard with his glaring red eyes, the snowy whiteness of his face twitching as he looked about for that annoying teenager. If only he could be made to understand, everything would be so simple ...,
He turned down a blind alley of tombstones backed with impenetrable briars, and there was Harry in front of him.
Harry swallowed hard and levelled his wand, but he did not unleash anything Voldemort's way, no doubt foolish and desperate enough to expect Voldemort to say something that might help Harry out of this impasse.
Yet Voldemort was not about to try any unwarranted aggression, and in fact when he spoke his voice was almost gentle.
"Why do you insist on running, Harry? Why don't you join me? You know it is futile to resist. Join me, and together we can rule the worlds of wizards and Muggles alike. There is nothing we cannot do ...,"
"I'll never join you", Harry said. "Never! Do you hear? I'm not like you at all."
"Ahh", said Voldemort, "but Albus never told you the truth, did he? About what really happened on that night fourteen years ago ...,"
"He told me enough. You're a mass murderer. You've slaughtered hundreds of wizards. You murdered my parents. You murdered my mother. You killed my father."
At that, Voldemort's face grew solemn and a little sad. Holding his wand aside, he spread his arms in greeting.
"No, Harry. I did not kill your father. I ... AM your father."
"NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!"
Voldemort scanned the graveyard with his glaring red eyes, the snowy whiteness of his face twitching as he looked about for that annoying teenager. If only he could be made to understand, everything would be so simple ...,
He turned down a blind alley of tombstones backed with impenetrable briars, and there was Harry in front of him.
Harry swallowed hard and levelled his wand, but he did not unleash anything Voldemort's way, no doubt foolish and desperate enough to expect Voldemort to say something that might help Harry out of this impasse.
Yet Voldemort was not about to try any unwarranted aggression, and in fact when he spoke his voice was almost gentle.
"Why do you insist on running, Harry? Why don't you join me? You know it is futile to resist. Join me, and together we can rule the worlds of wizards and Muggles alike. There is nothing we cannot do ...,"
"I'll never join you", Harry said. "Never! Do you hear? I'm not like you at all."
"Ahh", said Voldemort, "but Albus never told you the truth, did he? About what really happened on that night fourteen years ago ...,"
"He told me enough. You're a mass murderer. You've slaughtered hundreds of wizards. You murdered my parents. You murdered my mother. You killed my father."
At that, Voldemort's face grew solemn and a little sad. Holding his wand aside, he spread his arms in greeting.
"No, Harry. I did not kill your father. I ... AM your father."
"NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!"
by Fearman January 07, 2008