“In Bolivia, Stewart deadpanned, leaning forward conspiratorially. “In America, it’s a little rigged.” —AP quoted by editor Jay Nordlinger of the National Review, who promptly takes Stewart the wrong way and reminds me of Republican freshmen from my alma mater.
October 2007
“In Bolivia, Stewart deadpanned, leaning forward conspiratorially. “In America, it’s a little rigged.” —AP quoted by editor Jay Nordlinger of the National Review, who promptly takes Stewart the wrong way and reminds me of Republican freshmen from my alma mater.
September 2007
Sure, this would end the return of the Cold War. But more importantly Russia would be ruled by a frickin’ chess champion. That’s one big Eurasian chunk of awesome!
A symptom explained on Wikipedia: “An analogy is comparing real life to a game, a game everyone plays, all the time. Someone suffering from depersonalization disorder constantly feels as if they cannot get into the game; any stimulus feels contrived or artificial to them. The rules of this game seem to have been forcibly applied upon them (anything from movement, to gravity or hunger) instead of being inherently applicable to them. If understanding dawns upon them of what they should be experiencing, it is often through reason and observation, or the feeling of knowing what and why it is happening. This sort of insight seems to rob everything of its spontaneity, its importance already having been diminished because of their sense of detachment. They are perpetual, and almost all the time, involuntary, cynics of our reality.”
Just this week I figured out I have restless leg syndrome. This one’s a bit more terrifying.
A decent rundown of the logical problems with Biblical Judaism and Christianity, via Shawn Honnick
I’m depressed to think that a whole way of looking at life could have arisen from a common brain disorder. I expect it’s more complex than that, but still.
Apparently there were 10-person “hug lines” in the hallways. Sheesh, give the kids a make-out room.
The 28-hour day sounds cool. And then you realize no one would be awake to IM with.
Okay well that’s what I would do with the extra time SHUT UP
I watched The Eight Irresistible Principles of Fun and realized I don’t need it any more. Responsibility is an inescapable part of the human condition, and young would-be kings ignore this at their peril.
But that is one hell of a colorful animation.
A poem about how you’re in the way on my escalator.
My account was hijacked for spam. So were those of my friends. All the bulletins are chain letters from people who think their accounts will get deleted. All my messages are Tom saying my account won’t get deleted. Profiles are painful to look at. The site never remembered me. I found it hard to navigate. Picking up girls is better on Craigslist. I’m educated so my friends are on Facebook. Match.com ads. All the good videos are on YouTube. These are not the friends I’m looking for. There ARE blogs worse than LiveJournals. Embarrassing exes left comments. You’re going to make me click “Cancel” again and THEN I’ll get an e-mail and I have to do MORE AFTER THAT. I’m too old for this shit. I made no human connections that weren’t better reproduced outside the site.
So my MySpace account got hijacked? And I can still get in but my profile left spam comments? And I’ve seen the same happen to friends? And then I realized I’ve had no human connection on MySpace except with a couple of people that I could have the same connection with on Facebook or over e-mail and IM? So I’m deleting my profile? And if you delete yours too, blog about it and we’ll all feel like part of a movement, and that will overcome the irrational anguish about deleting an online profile? Yes.
Dear Internet,
Can I have a mashup of “Teeny Little Super Guy” from Sesame Street vs. “Rhubarb Pie” from A Prairie Home Companion?
- Kevin: if you were a black child what would you want to learn about?
- Nick: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rN2VqFPNS8w
is played twice in Wes Anderson’s short film “Hotel Chevalier” (free on iTunes). I got the mp3 and am looping it all afternoon.