Yeah, sci-fi is definitely a big influence on Fear Factory. I've had people tell me we always sing about the same thing but it's like well, if we were a black metal band we'd sing about Satan, you know? What if we were a Christian metal band? All the songs would be about how much we loved Jesus.
What if you threw a protest and no one showed up? The lack of angst and anger and emotion is a big positive.
What if in my waking hours a sound should ring through the silent halls of hearing? ... Would the bow and string tension of life snap? Would the heart over weighted with sudden joy stop beating for very excess of happiness?
What if we discover that our present way of life is irreconcilable with our vocation to become fully human?
Searching for the self when I was entirely alone was hazardous. What if I found not so much a great emptiness as a space full of unpleasant contents, a compound of long-hidden truths, closeted, buried, forgotten. When I went looking, I was playing a desperate game of hide-and-seek, fearful of what I might find, most afraid that I would find nothing.
What if angry vectors veer Round your sleeping head, and form. There's never need to fear Violence of the poor world's abstract storm.
I don't think we should speak so much. What if we were singing a song? We split, whilst singing.
The what-if's and the should-have's will eat your brain.
What if there were no hypothetical questions?
People always tell me "Have a nice day." Well what if I don't want to? What if I want to have a crappy day?
What if I were smiling and running into your arms? Would you see then what I see now?
Time is in itself [not] a difficulty, but a time-rate, assumed on very insufficient grounds, is used as a master-key, whether or not it fits, to unravel all difficulties. What if it were suggested that the brick-built Pyramid of Hawara had been laid brick by brick by a single workman? Given time, this would not be beyond the bounds of possibility. But Nature, like the Pharaohs, had greater forces at her command to do the work better and more expeditiously than is admitted by Uniformitarians.
Which is more musical, a truck passing by a factory or a truck passing by a music school? Are the people inside the school musical and the ones outside unmusical? What if the ones inside can't hear very well, would that change my question?
The lasting and ultimately most important reputation of a film is not based on reviews, but on what, if anything, people say about it over the years, and on how much affection for it they have.
We all obsess about what we are doing and accomplishing. What if we let it go and simply made the way we live our lives our accomplishment?
What if it was cats who invented technology, would they have TV shows starring rubber sqeaky toys?
What if we're all like that? Like ghosts ... in someone's mind ... gradually fading ... fading ... until finally ... one day ... we just disappear ... drift into nothingness. Wouldn't that be sad?
You might say what if I screw up? Then screw up big! Go for it! Do a big screw-up!
Many of us have created lives that give very little support for experimentation. We believe that answers already exist out there, independent of us. What if we invested more time and attention to our own experimentation? We could focus our efforts on discovering solutions that work uniquely for us.
What if Jesus' secret message reveals a secret plan?”. What if he didn't come to start a new religion-but rather came to start a political, social, religious, artistic, economic, intellectual, and spiritual revolution that would give birth to a new world?
What if capitalism is unsustainable, and socialism is impossible?
What if God were not exactly truth, and if this could be proved? And if he were instead the vanity, the desire for power, the ambitions, the fear, and the enraptured and terrified folly of mankind?
What if people really did that - sent their love through the mail to get rid of it? What would it be that they sent? A box of chocolates with centers like the yolks of turkey eggs. A mud doll with hollow eye sockets. A heap of roses slightly more fragrant than rotten. A package wrapped in bloody newspaper that nobody would want to open.
What if reality is nothing but some disease?
What if it were true that nature speaks in signs and that the secret to understanding its language consists in noticing similarities in shape or in form?
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