Let's finish out the year with something we can all agree on. My rationale is, nobody ought to be at work today or tomorrow anyway, and people ought to check in at least every other day. Therefore, by the time you go back to work you'll know better than to roll all the way down the page.
Besides, when this is considered more appropriate for children than a naked breast, the convention of safeness for work is a joke anyway (are there kids at work?):
This time I take up the sensitive, delicate issue nobody else is able to tackle: how much Wal*Mart stinks. Yeah, that's right, nobody has EVER written about this before, in the history of the universe! I'M THE FIRST! CALL ME GROUNDBREAKIN' GROVER!!!
...this rumor that the President is going to actually send more troops to Iraq. Yeah, that'll work. Actually it could, if there was any chance these morons would do it right. Send Bob Kerrey type soldiers, the ones we used in the Phoenix Program in Nam, and it might sort of work, for a while. I mean smart killers. Quiet guys who don't play electric guitar, rap or even talk much. Guys who got 1500 on their SATs and 0 on their personality tests. Send them to Iraq with local snitches/guides to point out which doors they should kick open and lists of people who need to be sent to Allah's arms ASAP and maybe the Arabs would stop laughing at us.
But Bush isn't that smart. He'll send a few thousand more regular infantry, who are trained in armored advances, and they'll stand around corners in Baqubah waiting for that video sniper to fire a 7.62 round right between their helmets and body armor. We're getting a lot of casualties like that, 19-year-old jocks who are going to spend 70-odd years as quadraplegics after taking sniper rounds to the neck. Bad enough when it happens in a good war, but 70 years getting your ass wiped by a minimum-wage Filipina "caregiver" and knowing it was for nothing, it was just we had a reckless idiot for a president-that's pretty close to Hell.
You self-righteous-ignorant-asshole. Who gave you he right to be the authority about the "South" or anything southern. Your family probably didn't even come to this country until after the civil war and if they fought for the fucked-up Union they were probably deserters and winers. You ought keep your man pleaser shut just out of some respect for "your" Nation's heritage. I wish I could meet you so I could school you man to boy...you worthless piece of shit punk bitch.
manavis1@verizon.net
Dear Mr. .net,
You know why we're scared to meet you man-to-boy? Because you being a Southerner and all, when you say you want to meet us "man to boy," we know exactly what you mean. The only thing that makes us feel safe is that we're not your son or nephew, but with you southerners, you still can never be too careful. As for what gives us the right to be the authority about the South...um, try the fact that OUR SIDE WON THE FUCKING WAR. DUH! You see, Jethro, the thing about coming from the winning side in a war is that you automatically earn the right to talk whatever shit you want about the loser. Those are the rules. And the fact is, there are very few losers in this world as loser-y as the South. The South is 0-1. That's a .000 record in the war tourney. Kinda makes you the original "Surrender Monkeys." The real question is, what right does a country with a .000 record have even existing? Oops, forgot -- you don't exist. In fact, you poor fools can't even hang your ol' flag up without getting bitch-slapped by a few dozen negroes, lesbians and Jews...next thing you know, the whole Deliverance crew is sheepishly pulling down the Confederate flag from their state capital, goin', "Shucks, sorry! It's our heritage! This flag represents our surrender-monkey heritage! But we're sorry!" Now, go back to assembling a Japanese car, or collecting welfare, or whatever it is you people do in the South, before we call out a few lesbian negro Jews to get liberal on your ass.
I sat on a bus once across from an older black lady who told me a rhyme she used to say with her playmates while they played double-dutch, and I wanted to remember it here, in case I forgot it (which I don't really think is possible):
Peanut butter motherfucker son of a bitch Your mama's in the kitchen makin' strawberry shit Your brother's in jail Your daddy's on bail Your sister's on the corner selling pussy for sale
Last night I got to meet some people who read this blog from down in Missouri, and it turns out the woman, the mother and wife, my cousin-in-law, has been an anonymous commenter here. I am 99.44 per cent sure this is the same person who I told recently after they anonymously made an unfriendly comment that "My ass and your lips should meet."
Who hasn't seen that scenario played out a million times?
Today as we drove the back roads home from the kind of awkwardness only beer and a cooperative, optimistic spirit can make right again, the redhead and I saw a bald eagle. It was flying right next to the car; those things are enormous. I think it winked at me!
Why wouldn't it? What are you, some kind of eagle-wink knower?
A few miles later I saw five chickens that had gotten loose and were digging for food next to a farm. I guess technically they're every bit as American, but I couldn't help but think those chickens looked pretty unpatriotic by comparison.
1) Fox News airs an infomercial for torture. 2) Federal semantics eliminates the hunger problem. 3) Defending the First Amendment by proposing that we scrap it. 4) Halliburton contracts to build large detention camps in the US. 5) The Inexorable Worldwide Rollout of RFID Chips. 6) After years of characterizing US policy in Iraq as "Stay the course," on October 23rd, the Bush administration not only drops the phrase, but denies it ever existed. 7) Guilty Until Proven Innocent: Carrying Cash is a Crime. 8) The Automated Targeting System. 9) NSA Warrantless Surveillance and Crypto-City. 10) Missing
The city of Sephronia is made up of two half-cities. In one there is the great roller coaster with its steep humps, the carousel with its chain spokes, the Ferris wheel of spinning cages, the death-ride with crouching motorcyclists, the big top with the clump of trapezes hanging in the middle. The other half-city is one of stone and marble and cement, with the bank, the factories, the palaces, the slaughterhouse, and all the rest. One of the half-cities is permanent, the other is temporary, and when the period of its sojourn is over, they uproot it, dismantle it, and take it off, transplanting it to the vacant lots of another half-city.
And so every year the day comes when the workmen remove the marble pediments, lower the stone walls, the cement pylons, take down the Ministry, the monument, the docks, the petroleum refinery, the hospital, load them on to trailers, to follow from stand to stand their annual itinerary. Here remains the half-Sephronia of the shooting-galleries and the carousels, the shout suspended from the cart of the headlong roller coaster, and it begins to count the months, the days it must wait before the caravan returns and a complete life can begin again.
fun facts about Don Cheadle, some of which are false
- appeared in a video for Angela Winbush's #2 hit single "It's The Real Thing" - appeared on "E.R." - appeared on the Mary Celeste - did the worst British accent (other than Keanu Reeves in Dracula) ever in a major motion picture in that stupid movie Ocean's whatever it was - could fool people into thinking he liked them because he's such a good actor, which is the main reason he and I never hang out - was a stand-up comic - can fuck your ass up at Jenga - likes to get his money's worth - is really named Dan Cheadle but never got jobs as such; people hate the name Dan. - can walk, cry, and shit on command - spits tobacco juice in the playpen at Burger King - has crab lice but just thinks it's funny
Just write your letter and it will be hand-delivered immediately following the exodus of the pure from the Earth. But you must be thinking to yourself, "How can the letters be delivered after the Rapture?" The answer is simple. The creators of this site are Atheists.
Out driving I saw a billboard for a website yesterday, where "everybody's got an opinion about evolution, share yours." Nowhere near the pet store, already I smell a rat.
Just as you'd expect, you have to look no further than the URL for motives to reveal themselves: whoisyourcreator.com.
Which quickly turns out to be this:
As sharp as a farm silo. Typical. I'm not doing this with these people any more.
I was visiting Eau Claire Wisconsin over the last few days and noticed that though the gas is twenty cents more a gallon, you can get a 30-pack of PBR for 13.50. With tax.
In other words, living here may not be the best deal. I drank all thirty just to be sure, and they're just as good as the ones they sell for more here in Minnesota. Here's to you, Wisconsin!
the most terrifying ten seconds in the lifetime of the Johnsons' dog, Barnaby
Only one thing smells like bacon, and that's bacon. Of course. But there's something about this bacon that seems... diabolical. I don't know why I'm letting it get to me; I mean, you look up bacon lover in the dictionary and there's a picture of me, but somehow I don't trust this stuff.
It's as if it wasn't bacon at all. Maybe it's because it's gummy and that's a little off for bacon. Also, do the Johnsons get their own bacon out of a bag like this, god, if I could only remember! This is bothering me, but there's no one I can ask.
Just as well, since the implications of a false, bacon-like substance are too staggering to contemplate. If the Johnsons know this isn't actually bacon, what is it? Is this happening to others? Are there even more things that aren't what they seem to be? If this isn't bacon, the web of conspiracy would wrap around my entire reality; I'd be like a fly drowning in ink, helpless and totally alone. Is it getting cold in here? The thought of it... AH! what's the matter with me right now? Boy oh boy do I love bacon.
Joe gets up at 6 a.m. and fills his coffeepot with water to prepare his morning coffee. The water is clean and good because some tree-hugging liberal fought for minimum water-quality standards. With his first swallow of water, he takes his daily medication. His medications are safe to take because some stupid commie liberal fought to ensure their safety and that they work as advertised.
All but $10 of his medications are paid for by his employer's medical plan because some liberal union workers fought their employers for paid medical insurance -- now Joe gets it, too.
He prepares his morning breakfast: bacon and eggs. Joe's bacon is safe to eat because some girly-man liberal fought for laws to regulate the meat packing industry.
In the morning shower, Joe reaches for his shampoo. His bottle is properly labeled with each ingredient and its amount in the total contents because some crybaby liberal fought for his right to know what he was putting on his body and how much it contained.
Joe dresses, walks outside and takes a deep breath. The air he breathes is clean because some environmentalist wacko liberal fought for the laws to stop industries from polluting our air.
He walks on the government-provided sidewalk to the subway station for his government-subsidized ride to work. It saves him considerable money in parking and transportation fees because some fancy-pants liberal fought for affordable public transportation, which gives everyone the opportunity to be a contributor.
Joe begins his work day. He has a good job with excellent pay, medical benefits, retirement, paid holidays and vacation because some lazy liberal union members fought and died for these working standards. Joe's employer pays these standards because Joe's employer doesn't want his employees to call the union.
If Joe is hurt on the job or becomes unemployed, he'll get a worker compensation or unemployment checks because some stupid liberal didn't think he should lose his home because of his temporary misfortune.
It is noontime and Joe needs to make a bank deposit so he can pay some bills. Joe's deposit is federally insured by the FSLIC because some godless liberal wanted to protect Joe's money from unscrupulous bankers who ruined the banking system before the Great Depression.
Joe has to pay his Fannie Mae-underwritten mortgage and his below-market federal student loan because some elitist liberal decided that Joe and the government would be better off if he was educated and earned more money over his lifetime. Joe also forgets that in addition to his federally subsidized student loans, he attended a state funded university.
Joe is home from work. He plans to visit his father this evening at his farm home in the country. He gets in his car for the drive. His car is among the safest in the world because some America-hating liberal fought for car safety standards to go along with the taxpayer funded roads.
He arrives at his boyhood home. His was the third generation to live in the house financed by Farmers' Home Administration because bankers didn't want to make rural loans.
The house didn't have electricity until some big-government liberal stuck his nose where it didn't belong and demanded rural electrification.
He is happy to see his father, who is now retired. His father lives on Social Security and a union pension because some wine-drinking, cheese-eating liberal made sure he could take care of himself so Joe wouldn't have to.
Joe gets back in his car for the ride home, and turns on a radio talk show. The radio host keeps saying that liberals are bad and conservatives are good. He doesn't mention that the beloved conservatives have fought against every protection and benefit Joe enjoys throughout his day. Joe agrees: "We don't need those big-government liberals ruining our lives! After all, I'm a self-made man who believes everyone should take care of themselves, just like I have."
omg....she fucking pisses me off. She is such a bitch. I really hate her. Fucking asshole....No one needs to know who that bitch is.... she wrecks my day...i hate her
I think that hilary duffy SUCKs bEcauSe she isstealing Joel Madden from me so that way Joelmadden will not help me on my homework and she isa ****ing Bitch!!!!!!!!!!!!!
OMG! HILARY DUFF IS TRING SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HARDTO BE LIKE AVRIL!I HATE HER SO MUCH SHE IS SUCH APOSER!SHE HAS NO TALENT AT ALL!SHE SUX!I WISH SHEWOULD BURN IN HELL!I MEAN SHE TRIES TO ACT,SINGAND DRESS LIKE AVRIL!SHE IS SOOOOOOOOOOOOOLAME!HILARY DUFF LOVERS ARE FUCKED UP FAGS!U AREALL POSERS!HILARY IS SUCH A BITCH!U KNOW WHENAVRIL HAD SOMETHING 2 SAY BACK!HILARY SAID 'OHI DIDN'T MEAN IT'CAUSE SHE KNEW AVRILWOULD KICK HER ASS!HILARY IS A FUCKEN SLUT I HATEHER! PSAVRILROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOX!!!ILOVE HER SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MUCH! SHE IS AWESOME!
I hatehilary duff I think she is a goodie 2 shoes *****!Hilary sux I can't like her I love Avril shesawesome!!! Hilary fans dont mess with me!!!
HILARY DID DID DID!!! COPY AVRIL AND HILARYCAN'T BE PUNK EVEN IF HER LIFE DEPENDED ON ITBECAUSE SHE'S A GOODY GOODY BITCH!!!!!LINDZSHUT THE FUCK UP U KNO DAT HILARY COPIEDHER!!!!!!HILARY SUCKSASS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!JESSE LOVER7# U SUXU TELL FRIGGEN LIER!!!!!!!!HILARY IS A FUCKINGPOSER SCREW ALLLL!!! FUCKEN HILARY DUFF FANS!!!!!!WUV ME!!!
SHE IS SUCH A MOTHER FUCKING BITCH! SHE NEEDS TO GO BACK TO TEXAS AND DIE FROM A SNAKE OR SOMETHING! I JUST WISH SHE WOULD TAKE HER SNOBBY ATTITUDE AND SHOVE IT! i just cant express how much i really truly hate hilary duff! but for starters, she cant sing for shit. and shes probably one of the stupidest crappiest actresses ever! or actually, actor( lol get it! as in a guy...yeahh...) . she is so fake! and her sister, dont even get me started please. i would just like to see avril lavigne kick her ass. seriously, she needs to crall into a tiny hole and DIE there! no-one fuckin likes her! she needs to get over her ugly, and i mean ugly self. and...well...yeah! OH! and how dare the peice of crap go near my joel madden! she is such a fucking slut! sure, shes famous but that dont mean shes gotta act like our fucking god. wut a bitch! i dont even know who would want her ugly, condom using, sexually active, bitchy self in a movie! she needs to DIE! that punk wanna be has got to go! i mean, paris hilton is more punk than she is! HILARY DUFF IS GAY, UGLY, STUPID, SUX AT SINGING & ACTING, TRY-HARD PUNK, A BITCH, A BLONDE BIMBO AND SHE SHOULD DIE A PAINFUL DEATH AND GO TO HELL!!! take away all the makeup and you've just got some chubby blonde chick with big teeth who thinks she can sing. SHE SINGS LIKE A DIEING HIPO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Bianca is a group of people who share the same basic opinions. She resides throughout the country with her parents, who totally suck.
Clearly you don't get to be one of Sissy's favorites on faith alone. Here's my favorite. Is that meth and gay cock in your pocket or are you happy to see Jesus?
...the teacher told his sixth-period students at Kearny High School that evolution and the Big Bang were not scientific, that dinosaurs were aboard Noah’s ark, and that only Christians had a place in heaven, according to audio recordings made by a student...
And now, a few quotes I found as I was cleaning out my desk.
Some guy:
One of the things that literacy and texts have going for them is that it stabilizes the argument so that you can look at it long enough to actually do a little analysis of it. A purely verbal interchange about information tends to be a little bit more slippery and harder to analyze because all you end up analyzing is the comparatively simple elements which tend to be the things that are misinformed.
There's not that much difference between a person who doesn't read and the person who can't read
...if you have the education, then the dangers are less dangerous. If kids are educated properly, I think, then you don't really have to worry about what's on the Internet or what's on anything because they'll know how to deal with it. There is a whole level of the country that belives that the way you keep children safe from sex, as though it is something that they need to be kept safe from, is that you don't let them know that it exists.
Education is the best way to deal with all these things that everybody thinks are so dangerous.
Italo Calvino:
We got along so well all together, so well that something extraordinary was bound to happen. It was enough for her to say, at a certain moment: ‘Oh, if I only had some room, how I’d like to make some noodles for you boys!’ And in that moment we all thought of the space that her round arms would occupy, moving backward and forward with the rolling pin over the dough, her bosom leaning over the great mound of flour and eggs which cluttered the wide board while her arms kneaded and kneaded, white and shiny with oil up to the elbows; we thought of the space that the flour would occupy, and the wheat for the flour, and the fields to raise the wheat, and the mountains from which the water would flow to irrigate the fields, and the grazing lands for the herds of calves that would give their meat for the sauce; of the space it would take for the Sun to arrive with its rays, to ripen the wheat; of the space for the Sun to condense from the clouds of stellar gases and burn; of the quantities of stars and galaxies and galactic masses in flight through space which would be needed to hold suspended every galaxy, every nebula, every sun, every planet, and at the same time we thought of it, this space was inevitably being formed at the same time that Mrs. Ph(i)nk0 was uttering those words: ‘…ah, what noodles, boys!’ the point that contained her and all of us was expanding in a halo of distance in light-years and light-centuries and billions of light-millennia, and we were being hurled to the four corners of the universe (Mr. Pvert Pverd all the way to Pavia), and she, Mrs. Ph(i)nk0, she who in the midst of our closed, petty world had been capable of a generous impulse, ‘Boys, the noodles I would make for you!,’ dissolved into I don’t know what kind of energy-light-heat, she, a true outburst of general love, initiating at the same moment the concept of space and, properly speaking, space itself, and time, and universal gravitation, and the gravitating universe, making possible billions and billions of suns, and of planets, and fields of wheat, and Mrs. Ph(i)nk0s, scattered through the continents of the planets, kneading with floury, oil-shiny, generous arms, and she lost at that very moment, and we, mourning her loss.
I have a bunch of pictures on my desktop that I thought I'd be able to use at the right time and for reasons that will be obvious, the right time never came. So sip your coffee and gaze contemplatively upon their disjointed accumulation. Also, I passed my exam, so now I'm WOSTEP certified, and there's not much more I can say about that, except I'm elated.
Some chinese dolphins had plastic in their stomachs and it was going to kill them, so after other attempts to retrieve it failed, they called in the tallest man in the world to reach in and get it out. Awesome.
I'm glad we have such great people in positions of power in this country to protect us from freedom: John McCain wants to regulate blogs. But it's ok, 'cause he's a WAR WAR WAR WAR man!
Today was the last day of school and of testing, and I'm waiting to be picked up at school, which although it's a result of a logistical snafu on my part, has a marvelous sense of occasion and feeling of authenticity. The old "lingering after and watching the kids get picked up one by one". It's over and we depart.
I'm not going to get into how I feel it went, because these two years and countless hours of waiting in lines, filling out forms, and sitting in classes and in rush hour traffic both ways every single day have led up to these few days; now that it's all out of my hands and I won't know if I passed till Saturday, the last thing I want to do is make an assumption that turns out to be mistaken. It's been an investment of time, money, and patience, and it could all go terribly wrong very easily. If this is like the AWCI exam, what I find out Saturday will have me either in a good mood or a bad mood that will last for months.
Martin brought the certificates from Switzerland. They sit pinkly in a folder upstairs, with our little namey-wameys printed on them. Each one will either get signed or shredded.
I occasionally remember I have a google analytics account, and sometimes I toss it up in the air and catch it again, to see who's looking for what when they come to old blogeroo.
I get a lot of requests from Iowa for a certain individual I exposed for being a total freak. I'm guessing he's living just north of Des Moines.
But I also get people looking for stuff I feel I should be providing, like "What's on the final WOSTEP exam", a query I got the other day from London.
Here's what it is, mate. A theory portion, about twenty questions long involving escapements and general nomenclature, calculations of vibration rates, mainspring turns, and gear ratios. Then there's a practical exam, which lasts for sixteen hours, during which you're supposed to get done a quartz watch, an automatic calendar, and a chronograph. We're using the ETA 955, the ETA 2824 (we almost got stuck with the 2892), and the Lemania 1873. It's harder than the 7750 we used in the AWCI CW exam, the other two watches are the same. The WOSTEP watches were more thoroughly and cunningly misadjusted by Martin Peters (sp?), but they were a little cleaner. (AWCI never saw a metal shaving they didn't think would look great mixed with oil and thrown in your watch.)
The adjustments done to the Lemania were these:
both eccentrics for the coupling clutch the eccentric on the switch the minute counter finger the exit pallet stone, moved out the guard pin the regulating pins bent third wheel moved pallet jewel, upper moved chronograph runner jewel and if I'm unlucky, something else I've never seen and didn't check for, which I don't think happened.
Great post at Nedroid, as he takes requests. At least I think that's what this is.
The more I click the more I like. Adam Kalkin is having a good time creating architecture, or maybe he's not. Enjoy his compulsion. The Walker should book a show by this guy.
And at this Flickr page you'll find photography of Christmases past, but don't worry, you won't have to see this one:
Foolishly, Tom Delay started a blog and enabled comments. It's tough for a law and order man to get a fair shake on the web, so you can imagine what happened; his virtual throat was thoroughly gone for. He deleted the offending posts and restricted the comments. But someone saved a copy first. The hammer indeed.
What purpose does it serve to deny the holocaust? There's got to be something that would clear it up and if any of you can give it to me I'd appreciate it. Iran's doing it.
That really good band, the right brothers that you may remember from their neoconservative nanny-nanny boo boo anthem "Bush was right", confess: "I'm in love with Ann Coulter". And it's so good I had to listen to it twice.
The most interesting thing I've seen in some time, it's the book UNsuggester. Enter a book you've read and this'll tell you the books you're least likely to enjoy, based on loads of existing book collections.
Cool feature: on the sidebar there are examples of books that don't go together based on this system. Apparently each of the pairs is comprised of one that's for smart people and one that's for stupid people. Or am I oversimplifying Critique Of Pure Reason versus The Devil Wears Prada?
It's about a kid who's really evil, like problem child but with murder. There's revenge and loneliness and a laundromat in a little town someplace. There's ads for things like in real life but they aren't product placement. There isn't a happy ending. And there's a magical land where beer comes out of the sides of trees. And while I'm watching it people bring me beer and food. And that's my perfect movie.
I wander around a hospital semi-dressed in scrubs, therefore nurses think I'm a doctor and smile at me like something very good is about to happen. I notice this, and would enjoy it more if A) I was a doctor and deserved it and B) wasn't already married to a hot nurse at the very same hospital. When I'm dressed that way and people are nice to me for some reason that seems hidden and slightly out of proportion, I'm guessing it's because they think I am, or at least have a good chance of being, a doctor.
My brother is applying to medical school and wanted to know some good points to hit when writing application-style essays. I waffled on whether it would be good or not to bring it up, but now I'm pretty sure it's a perfectly acceptable reason to want to get into the field that you get more respect from the most people as a doctor than maybe any other profession there is.
Let's think why this is. When you're a medical doctor you know how things work. You're expected to have an understanding of the functions of the body, of diseases and the ways they operate, change, and can be fought, of cell types, anatomical systems and how they interact with each other, lots of biochemistry, in short, the things that make up the human body; verified anatomical and medical science. It's a difficult field of study.
As I was thinking about the respect that (and I'm not qualifying this) all people afford doctors and how well the doctors deserve it, I thought of the respect that preacher-men get, and I thought it was quite funny and revealing that most people think any given preacher man is just a quack with nothing important to say. Take the pope. Most people in the world don't give a crap what he says or does; they aren't Catholic. Repeat this for any other flavor of supernaturalist. Who do you want helping you out when you're sick? I'm gonna go with the person who knows something about something, period.
To sum up, the respect is commensurate with the reality. The doctor is required to know something and does, because he is a scientist who, like all scientists, study nature. The supernaturalist on the other hand, well...
Since the beginning, the attempts to popularize new watch technology have been characterized by their mind-paralyzingly thick strata of shameless hyperbole. None of the original shmack-talking is in English, but the latest is. Here's the most obnoxious thing I hope to see today. Tag Heuer's newish watch has a video that you would think explains how it works. Not so.
The intended reaction: Ooh! Quotes by SMART people! A FLY-by INSIDE the watch! I don't know what I just saw but it's COOL and man do I WANT it!
The real reaction: That was so content-free I can't bring myself to think about this watch any more. Is there any Kant lying around?
Could there be a more insulting, demeaning program the sole intention of which appears to be to deceive humanity and undermine every succulent human impulse and shove sexuality back into the 1850s and induce 10 million teens to resent and mistrust adults even more than they already do?
Now the government is targeting unmarried adults up to age 29 as part of its abstinence-only programs.
