America is essentially an entrepreneurial culture: the sizzle is the steak, because, after all, if you buy the sizzle, the steak comes with it. Canada's, in contrast, is a primary-producing culture: we'll buy the steak and hope to get a little sizzle with it. But we know we can't eat sizzle.
I like night fishing, even though there is a molecule of terror in it. Maybe it is that tiny bit of terror that I relish, that going mano a mano with another predator in the dark. I know it is not entirely civilized, but there is nothing to compare with the sizzle of fear except, perhaps, the rush of being feared. Either condition confirms you are alive.
Paul G. Quinnett
we are burning like a chicken wing left on the grill of an outdoor barbecue we are unwanted and burning we are burning and unwanted we are an unwanted burning as we sizzle and fry to the bone the coals of Dante's 'Inferno' spit and sputter beneath us and above the sky is an open hand and the words of wise men are useless it's not a nice world, a nice world it's not...
Guyal of Sfere had been born one apart from his fellows and early proved a source of vexation for his sire. Normal in outward configuration, there existed within his mind a void that ached for nourishment. It was as if a spell had been cast upon his birth, a harassment visited on the child in a spirit of sardonic mockery, so that every occurrence, no matter how trifling, became a source of wonder and amazement. Even as young as four he was expounding such inquiries as: 'Why do squares have more sides than triangles?' 'How will we see when the sun goes dark?' 'Do flowers grow under the ocean?' 'Do stars hiss and sizzle when rain comes by night?
When he came home early, he was dreary. There, he'd sit by the fireplace, his worn hands gripping the newspaper a bit too tight, his eyes held to it, unseeing, towards the words, the meaningless grouping of letters on that newspaper. The fire would cackle, sizzle, full of life, so opposite to this man, whose face was crossed with the burdens of the world, and lips pressed thing under that bushy mustache. His grief sat on him like a cloud, sending him into a dimension that left his eyes two empty coals, his chest an impossible storm. He spoke to no one, and hardly did anyone speak to him, because words were never something he was good at. Then, when the sky darkened, he's stand, and trudge to his room, where his bed waited, cold and hungry, just as he'd always known it to be.
My legion!' Stanley said. 'I have achieved an even greater level of mastery! Behold!' He held up his beer mug and pointed the open end toward a nearby palm tree. 'Mulciber!' he yelled. Nothing happened. He shook the beer mug, and held it out once more. 'Mulciber!' Once again he intoned the word, but with a slightly different emphasis. Again nothing happened. 'Damn. Mulciber! Mulciber! Mulciber!' Suddenly a large ball of fire erupted from the end of the beer mug, nearly singed Stanley's eyebrows, and flew up into the sky in a large, fiery arc, eventually plunging with a sizzle into the lake.
If you work and do pure research in this industry as long as I have - and you actually pay attention and do your homework, then this naked and raw truth stands out -> The supplement world of cancer-fighters, CAD-preventers, health-promoters, magic-water - AND/OR - muscle-builders, fat-burners and weight-loss agents - all of them - already have an over-crowded mass grave-yard of previous magic bullets that would supposedly make your life and/or body better - Yes, so promising and heavily promoted 'this' era - but so dead and gone the next - leaving in their wake a trail of mass-consumer confusion - but also leaving their actual intention -> a new generation of passive consumers - those who can't differentiate the sizzle from the steak. Or as W.C. Fields put it so long ago - 'There's a sucker born every minute.' -> There isn't a supplement on the planet that marks the difference between 'health or ill-health' - or between 'fit or fat.' - or between 'results and stagnation.