Not sure what word they’re going for here, since DISSECT isn’t spelled this way.
Maybe it’s another word I’m unfamiliar with (that happens on occasion) but, if that’s the case, it leaves me without a proper entry.
There are things that usually want to be disected. I mean they have to be done, just like the moon wants to be disected every 7 days and your heart in every other relationship. Disection is done on fruits and vegetables, and your teeth do a fine job in further breaking them down.
One bubble, and a flat one at that. How ever does a bubble become flat, anyway? Reasonable, I suppose, to attempt to disect this issue — after all, how does one approach life if one cannot study the bubbles? The bubbles that make us who we are?
Disect? I don’t even know what that means. Wait does it mean when someone rips a animal apart to see it’s guts? Then do you guys expect us to write something morbid?
He was more afraid of it than I was. I was hungry for it. Grabbed the scalpel as if I had a medical doctorate. Sliced the stomach open as if it were never alive. Removed the eye for fun. cut it in half for kicks.
The word disect is awesome but isn’t it spelled dissect? I like dissections because Sherlock Holmes. And I’ve always wanted to dissect something but my school doesn’t do them anymore. Kinda sad.
I tend to disect every view. Through foggy eyes I have learned to live inside the bubble of my moments and memories, not poking the cellophane around these tightly knit imaginings of my mind, I still feel, it might be sometimes better if I did not.
it was so hard to disect the meaning of the unicorn. What was it doing? it was eating. But WHY? why do we eat? nevermind, the unicorn. what ws its porpouse?
I never could look at a living thing without seeing under their skin after a normal, high school science class.
I could look at a bird and see their gizzard,
I could look at a frog and see the winding bath of their intestines.
I could even look at a worm and see the vague bulges of their many hearts.
Don’t be offended if I ask to dissect you, I just have to know how so much light can reside in one place. So you wanna play with magic? Boy, you should know what you’re falling for. Baby do you dare to do this? ‘Cause I’m coming at you like a dark horse. Are you ready for a perfect storm? ‘Cause once you’re mine, there’s no going back.
He had spent months, once he had come up with the idea, looking for the perfect race on which to execute his plan. Dissecting race cards according to a particular set of rules he had devised, he had covered most of the year’s race meetings before finally returning to the one race that had stood out among them all. The big one; the Grand National.
Clara sat staring at the creature in front of her. It’s grimy, black-speckled toes falling off the edge of lab table, the boys around her poking at it’s back with scalpels sharp in their hands. How was she going to dissect this frog?
Through all false stories and flattering lies, through built up ego and self attained masks.
Through made up fairy tales and carefully structured half truths. Beyond all legend and all mystery. The truth disects all.
this makes me think of dissecting frogs in school… which is gross. at the same time i think of it in a educational sense… like dissecting parts of speech.. dissecting the story and it kinda makes me think all Sherlock Holmesish like im solving something by analyzing it.
Disect. Dissect? Disect? “Crap.” I mutter to myself as the hot lights of the stage burn down on the back of my neck. This one was so easy, how could I mess it up? Two letters really should not make that much of a difference. If I misspell it I will be put out of the spelling bee, though. And I can’t have that, I want my brother to be proud of me. “Answer, please.” The panel says. “D-I-S-S-E-C-T.” I close my eyes and am greeted by a round of applause, I made it through to the next round.
It means to take apart something. For example, you do this in science class when you cut open a frog, or it’s what you do when you take apart your calculator or toy to see how it works.
It means to take apart. Like you cut open frogs in science class, or take apart your calculator. I don’t like cutting up frogs, but I like taking apart calculators. I like to take things apart to see how they work. By disecting something, you can see how it works, or study it. It’s an interesting concept, in my humble opinion.
idk what that is??? lol when does the time end?? I’m waiting!! really? I’m still waiting. soooo looong…..gooodbyeeeeeeee xxxx hurray…
i don’t like this!!
its late…
i wanna go to bed.
what does that mean???????????????????????
answer it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! noooow!!!!
I could see the knife,
Slowly,
Cutting into what I used to call my flesh,
But now bore no more attachment than a child who has lost a balloon
Watching it drift in to the air
Seeking oblivion.
So it was that I let my mind go free,
Under her knife,
My body was useless,
And I found solace in despair.
I didn’t want to do it. The knife in my hand quivered as my hand tried to stay steady. The man before me opened one eye, obviously annoyed I couldn’t do my own damn job.
“Hun, I know your nervous and all, but I have to be somewhere in the next 15 and I don’t have time to deal with you.”
He disected me one by one. He removed my appendages with such love and care, I was just left there, lying on the bed. My thumping heart was still. I was nothing but a beating heart in a chest and that was perfectly alright. He took me apart and only he could piece me back together.
To disect someone’s heart into tiny little pieces, tiny puzzle pieces that won’t fit back together no matter how hard one would try, that is the the worst thing you can do.
Disecting is bad. Cutting open something. Whether it’s a frog in lab or someones heart. Looking into someones heart is ok, but once you cut it open, its hard to sow it back together. After is sown back together, its rarely ever the same again.
i learned to dissect when I was in high school. frogs. then in college biology we had to dissect puppies that had been killed a the local pound, and saw how heartworms clogged the heart and arteries. also remember when Patsy and I had to dissect a fetal pig and identify its parts during an exam and we messed with the assistant, putting it’s tail through its anus. he was confounded as to what part of anatomy it was. flustered.
I could feel him dissecting me with his eyes, looking for a sign of weakness. I clenched my hands behind my back to keep them from shaking. I forced myself to meet his cold grey eyes.
They looked at each other, fear in their eyes.
Did they really have to cut into this poor lifeless creature?
It is for science. If done properly it is respectful.
How can that be!
How can we mutilate this animal to see what others have already shown before?
Dis repair dis tear, rip it a new one, find the centre, make it new, put it back together, pull a moreau and make a human from this bits of animal flesh, hair, instinct, sinew, ambition, and pride, pull them together and stitch, let pain be the teacher and the humaniser, let my pain make me
“Ugh, what is with people spelling ‘dissect’ on their science labs?” my husband groaned as he sat at the kitchen table, grading papers. I was busy doing a crossword puzzle and ignoring my workload.
“How are they spelling it?”
” ‘Disect.’ Like, we one s. D-i-s-e-ct.” He tossed one D-marked paper to the side and cracked his knuckles. “Just because an error is common doesn’t mean it’s no longer an error.”
What is this I’m feeling? Why would I feel it? Why am I thinking so deeply of the intrinsic sources of these emotions at the expense of allowing an uninhibited, pure experience? Did I really just use “intrinsic” in my inner monolog? Why is she looking at me? Am I zoning out? I wonder what that gut is thinking…
She grabbed the scalpel and pushed the sharp edge into the thick skin of the frog. A look of disgust formed on her face, causing her lab partners to chuckle at her reaction. “If all you’re going to do is laugh, why don’t you do this instead?” she snapped.
The group of people around me are reduced to nothing. It’s impossible to feel like a member of the whole when all you can see are the faults in others. Dissection completed in a moment.
I look at you and I see everything you’re afraid that I will see. And it’s ok.
Dissecting the frog was a challenge for Grace because of this. She reluctantly put on the white smock to cover her dress, with floral print. Mr. Nelson handed her a plastic tool-kit and she looked at it in disgust.
The saying about humor comes to mind; like a frog, if you disect it; it dies. So are many things in life. Once you take them apart, literally analyze them to death it’s over. It’s good to explore things deeply and it can also be dangerous. Somethings aren’t meant to be touched or even understood. It is the only way to achieve depth and mastery. Take it apart. Put it together. Observe what happens. Wait and see.
Not sure what word they’re going for here, since DISSECT isn’t spelled this way.
Maybe it’s another word I’m unfamiliar with (that happens on occasion) but, if that’s the case, it leaves me without a proper entry.
There are things that usually want to be disected. I mean they have to be done, just like the moon wants to be disected every 7 days and your heart in every other relationship. Disection is done on fruits and vegetables, and your teeth do a fine job in further breaking them down.
One bubble, and a flat one at that. How ever does a bubble become flat, anyway? Reasonable, I suppose, to attempt to disect this issue — after all, how does one approach life if one cannot study the bubbles? The bubbles that make us who we are?
Disect? I don’t even know what that means. Wait does it mean when someone rips a animal apart to see it’s guts? Then do you guys expect us to write something morbid?
He was more afraid of it than I was. I was hungry for it. Grabbed the scalpel as if I had a medical doctorate. Sliced the stomach open as if it were never alive. Removed the eye for fun. cut it in half for kicks.
The word disect is awesome but isn’t it spelled dissect? I like dissections because Sherlock Holmes. And I’ve always wanted to dissect something but my school doesn’t do them anymore. Kinda sad.
I tend to disect every view. Through foggy eyes I have learned to live inside the bubble of my moments and memories, not poking the cellophane around these tightly knit imaginings of my mind, I still feel, it might be sometimes better if I did not.
it was so hard to disect the meaning of the unicorn. What was it doing? it was eating. But WHY? why do we eat? nevermind, the unicorn. what ws its porpouse?
I never could look at a living thing without seeing under their skin after a normal, high school science class.
I could look at a bird and see their gizzard,
I could look at a frog and see the winding bath of their intestines.
I could even look at a worm and see the vague bulges of their many hearts.
You have to disect life and take it in as it is. you dont get to choose you just have to dig or disect enough to get to where you wanna be.
I dived myself down down
where the river meets the sea
where the court of the moon
is received by the sun
at the channel fast and clear
I threw myself in
shot through a thin vein
of green glass, of bubble
green water kissed warm
from Boann’s lips
turned cold blue
salting, blueing, colding my blood
the south wind spoke my name
like an aged father
whispering the curses
of blindness
she is what she is, despite
a sea hungrier, needier than fire
where smooth brown stones
become white rippled sand
where I swim around you
no words to say
everything old, familiar
becomes strange, new
where we seek each other out
for the rush of the finding
Don’t be offended if I ask to dissect you, I just have to know how so much light can reside in one place. So you wanna play with magic? Boy, you should know what you’re falling for. Baby do you dare to do this? ‘Cause I’m coming at you like a dark horse. Are you ready for a perfect storm? ‘Cause once you’re mine, there’s no going back.
He had spent months, once he had come up with the idea, looking for the perfect race on which to execute his plan. Dissecting race cards according to a particular set of rules he had devised, he had covered most of the year’s race meetings before finally returning to the one race that had stood out among them all. The big one; the Grand National.
Clara sat staring at the creature in front of her. It’s grimy, black-speckled toes falling off the edge of lab table, the boys around her poking at it’s back with scalpels sharp in their hands. How was she going to dissect this frog?
Through all false stories and flattering lies, through built up ego and self attained masks.
Through made up fairy tales and carefully structured half truths. Beyond all legend and all mystery. The truth disects all.
this makes me think of dissecting frogs in school… which is gross. at the same time i think of it in a educational sense… like dissecting parts of speech.. dissecting the story and it kinda makes me think all Sherlock Holmesish like im solving something by analyzing it.
Cut it open, peel back the skin, watch the heart beat,
pause.
take it apart, study how it flees.
stop.
watch it bleed.
start.
dissect it and study again.
Try and fail.
to understand.
Disect. Dissect? Disect? “Crap.” I mutter to myself as the hot lights of the stage burn down on the back of my neck. This one was so easy, how could I mess it up? Two letters really should not make that much of a difference. If I misspell it I will be put out of the spelling bee, though. And I can’t have that, I want my brother to be proud of me. “Answer, please.” The panel says. “D-I-S-S-E-C-T.” I close my eyes and am greeted by a round of applause, I made it through to the next round.
It means to take apart something. For example, you do this in science class when you cut open a frog, or it’s what you do when you take apart your calculator or toy to see how it works.
It means to take apart. Like you cut open frogs in science class, or take apart your calculator. I don’t like cutting up frogs, but I like taking apart calculators. I like to take things apart to see how they work. By disecting something, you can see how it works, or study it. It’s an interesting concept, in my humble opinion.
idk what that is??? lol when does the time end?? I’m waiting!! really? I’m still waiting. soooo looong…..gooodbyeeeeeeee xxxx hurray…
i don’t like this!!
its late…
i wanna go to bed.
what does that mean???????????????????????
answer it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! noooow!!!!
Don’t disect my grammar while I’m talking to you! I have a very serious thing to say! Now button it up or I’ll disect you if you’re not careful!
I could see the knife,
Slowly,
Cutting into what I used to call my flesh,
But now bore no more attachment than a child who has lost a balloon
Watching it drift in to the air
Seeking oblivion.
So it was that I let my mind go free,
Under her knife,
My body was useless,
And I found solace in despair.
My favorite dissection was when I dissected a flower. There’s no blood, no other strange fluids. The insides of a flower are pristine.
I didn’t want to do it. The knife in my hand quivered as my hand tried to stay steady. The man before me opened one eye, obviously annoyed I couldn’t do my own damn job.
“Hun, I know your nervous and all, but I have to be somewhere in the next 15 and I don’t have time to deal with you.”
He disected me one by one. He removed my appendages with such love and care, I was just left there, lying on the bed. My thumping heart was still. I was nothing but a beating heart in a chest and that was perfectly alright. He took me apart and only he could piece me back together.
To disect someone’s heart into tiny little pieces, tiny puzzle pieces that won’t fit back together no matter how hard one would try, that is the the worst thing you can do.
Disecting is bad. Cutting open something. Whether it’s a frog in lab or someones heart. Looking into someones heart is ok, but once you cut it open, its hard to sow it back together. After is sown back together, its rarely ever the same again.
i learned to dissect when I was in high school. frogs. then in college biology we had to dissect puppies that had been killed a the local pound, and saw how heartworms clogged the heart and arteries. also remember when Patsy and I had to dissect a fetal pig and identify its parts during an exam and we messed with the assistant, putting it’s tail through its anus. he was confounded as to what part of anatomy it was. flustered.
I feel uncomfortable, as I approach the room. A white hall leading into two doorways. I feel cold and alone underneath the reflexive autopilot.
I could feel him dissecting me with his eyes, looking for a sign of weakness. I clenched my hands behind my back to keep them from shaking. I forced myself to meet his cold grey eyes.
They looked at each other, fear in their eyes.
Did they really have to cut into this poor lifeless creature?
It is for science. If done properly it is respectful.
How can that be!
How can we mutilate this animal to see what others have already shown before?
Dis repair dis tear, rip it a new one, find the centre, make it new, put it back together, pull a moreau and make a human from this bits of animal flesh, hair, instinct, sinew, ambition, and pride, pull them together and stitch, let pain be the teacher and the humaniser, let my pain make me
“Ugh, what is with people spelling ‘dissect’ on their science labs?” my husband groaned as he sat at the kitchen table, grading papers. I was busy doing a crossword puzzle and ignoring my workload.
“How are they spelling it?”
” ‘Disect.’ Like, we one s. D-i-s-e-ct.” He tossed one D-marked paper to the side and cracked his knuckles. “Just because an error is common doesn’t mean it’s no longer an error.”
What is this I’m feeling? Why would I feel it? Why am I thinking so deeply of the intrinsic sources of these emotions at the expense of allowing an uninhibited, pure experience? Did I really just use “intrinsic” in my inner monolog? Why is she looking at me? Am I zoning out? I wonder what that gut is thinking…
She grabbed the scalpel and pushed the sharp edge into the thick skin of the frog. A look of disgust formed on her face, causing her lab partners to chuckle at her reaction. “If all you’re going to do is laugh, why don’t you do this instead?” she snapped.
The group of people around me are reduced to nothing. It’s impossible to feel like a member of the whole when all you can see are the faults in others. Dissection completed in a moment.
I look at you and I see everything you’re afraid that I will see. And it’s ok.
Dissecting the frog was a challenge for Grace because of this. She reluctantly put on the white smock to cover her dress, with floral print. Mr. Nelson handed her a plastic tool-kit and she looked at it in disgust.
The saying about humor comes to mind; like a frog, if you disect it; it dies. So are many things in life. Once you take them apart, literally analyze them to death it’s over. It’s good to explore things deeply and it can also be dangerous. Somethings aren’t meant to be touched or even understood. It is the only way to achieve depth and mastery. Take it apart. Put it together. Observe what happens. Wait and see.
She shivered. She imagined bugs crawling from the open wound, the hot white of fattty ribbons encircling the heart.
Her hand shot into the air, quivering. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. I can’t cut open a dead animal,” she announced.
Mrs. Lebowitz shrugged. “Alright, but your grade is going to suffer for it. The dissection isn’t optional.”