tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71465422701043036482024-03-19T00:26:59.029-07:00Killed By Fishferalboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.comBlogger201125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-9953876252108397622023-08-26T17:51:00.005-07:002023-08-26T18:22:24.273-07:00The Internet Is a Jerk<p>Yes, you. The internet. You are a jerk. Yeah, you heard me.</p><p>You're always yelling. You're always mad about something, some made-up "crisis" that you probably caused yourself, you jerk, and now you're all pissed off. You make shit up and believe it. You got Donald Trump elected president. You're lousy with porn and sick, stupid people doing sick, stupid stuff, with child porn, probably. You make children eat laundry detergent. You come to my house, and you show up with crap I want to unsee but can't, then you leave without explanation. Jerk. I show you a video I spent three weeks making, artful and clever, and you ignore it. Then some guy puts sunglasses on his dog's butt and you give him your rapt attention. Billions of views, "what a clever fellow," or some shit.. And you want me to pay you for this. Fucking jerk.</p><p>When you do give me something decent to read, a bunch of crap like this shows up at the bottom of every page:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8cINvCRM9eYqPGs131V8-EhjybeXCl3c4o8hw1I1jzScowyycI0FUhU82pANvUCT0IR0LQjSFskV9j5HqYusltxIHO-gR-vuAEe-R1cVHTP8vk8OzjgfAgV04-aVD6P-IFXVtcgGWV1Qj5O2E2piRxCO5-Y0AMyTPEmXhwgbJExSCZCRqNnaDXKDkw-8/s339/feet.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="330" data-original-width="339" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8cINvCRM9eYqPGs131V8-EhjybeXCl3c4o8hw1I1jzScowyycI0FUhU82pANvUCT0IR0LQjSFskV9j5HqYusltxIHO-gR-vuAEe-R1cVHTP8vk8OzjgfAgV04-aVD6P-IFXVtcgGWV1Qj5O2E2piRxCO5-Y0AMyTPEmXhwgbJExSCZCRqNnaDXKDkw-8/s320/feet.png" width="320" /></a></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8cINvCRM9eYqPGs131V8-EhjybeXCl3c4o8hw1I1jzScowyycI0FUhU82pANvUCT0IR0LQjSFskV9j5HqYusltxIHO-gR-vuAEe-R1cVHTP8vk8OzjgfAgV04-aVD6P-IFXVtcgGWV1Qj5O2E2piRxCO5-Y0AMyTPEmXhwgbJExSCZCRqNnaDXKDkw-8/s339/feet.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="431" data-original-width="518" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeiFWaFZaimgFQW_t8qXcKxJNTF0MF7SgBnnw4kc2uByi9l6M5nXz1yKd8UlsAp8SHOs-IQEhkhFfCjyOi-NFBe-7pQUZYOPxEhqcliQ_I3EGhrQYChN7nuCK9It3pgw-FUYPv5b0tiyunsAwROLLl9aGWqhvAOzMsvg-B3rBfUYY4ae71GuDaA9HAHiY/s320/these%207%20things.png" width="320" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQdqGGwh8yb0LRL34M_BWhwCaeMMP5yuk8CzMlLxcPXUFPVURIvtk03R6DULyyGLiHX9n11pq_gYlIoRt9fl_ZYlQGYFw1vDyTcXxOzFbVUjz4wr2ZSve4lfu4TquhZMPeIinV9RV7NjhEWoTflHijmOQBlB_EnGBLojKmTsAed87maAbm6vBj9K0fCrY/s441/thumbtacks.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="342" data-original-width="441" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQdqGGwh8yb0LRL34M_BWhwCaeMMP5yuk8CzMlLxcPXUFPVURIvtk03R6DULyyGLiHX9n11pq_gYlIoRt9fl_ZYlQGYFw1vDyTcXxOzFbVUjz4wr2ZSve4lfu4TquhZMPeIinV9RV7NjhEWoTflHijmOQBlB_EnGBLojKmTsAed87maAbm6vBj9K0fCrY/s320/thumbtacks.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigASKKPuKrxobsB5tL2TJuQqddHjuGPl0LvsAuFPZXbYSYxaZAIfj5S_8aMX0KdZqG5oBXKiydxfySuDo9IWBMIPbcAAVUNQJ3lhD9jczTWXSnk767vqQmZBqVI1ZDn_XIoB70rGCJhDImXl2AHtdp3_6S4dObzk5SCKDxNblUrF0D5p-kDIkRZ4b8lkQ/s322/weird%20trick.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="322" data-original-width="239" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigASKKPuKrxobsB5tL2TJuQqddHjuGPl0LvsAuFPZXbYSYxaZAIfj5S_8aMX0KdZqG5oBXKiydxfySuDo9IWBMIPbcAAVUNQJ3lhD9jczTWXSnk767vqQmZBqVI1ZDn_XIoB70rGCJhDImXl2AHtdp3_6S4dObzk5SCKDxNblUrF0D5p-kDIkRZ4b8lkQ/s320/weird%20trick.jpg" width="238" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Then that video pops up in the corner with that bald guy looking at me and bellowing about something pretty important I guess, but I have the sound off so he just looks stupid. Like you, internet. You're stupid.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">You're a stupid jerk.</div><div><br /></div></div></div></div><p> </p><br /><br />feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-34489381356125132502023-06-19T18:42:00.028-07:002023-06-19T23:33:21.741-07:00Hitler's Last Tweets<p>To be accurate, these are technically not tweets, as Twitter would not exist for another 60 years or so. But in 1944 Adolf Hitler, feeling unfairly deprived of that platform, began his own right-leaning version of the future social media giant, which he called <i>Mein Social. </i>Its logo seems to have looked like this:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUecTZrs6ULecCffRXbM-Q2mfEwu6SV-cZg0g466IPUPOLkezC72VJiXMHh1_56aHNvBqkIFYKm3lallhab9uFczJ_qp9oWp1Wip_Gxf4XZi-cA9Pd0ZKFP3RxoFDtSul89fPCqjvGXyfPEggVBFCp8dDEPSgavGb3KUMXBI9vgPsinR72EqhTgmwo9dc/s278/mein%20social.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="253" data-original-width="278" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUecTZrs6ULecCffRXbM-Q2mfEwu6SV-cZg0g466IPUPOLkezC72VJiXMHh1_56aHNvBqkIFYKm3lallhab9uFczJ_qp9oWp1Wip_Gxf4XZi-cA9Pd0ZKFP3RxoFDtSul89fPCqjvGXyfPEggVBFCp8dDEPSgavGb3KUMXBI9vgPsinR72EqhTgmwo9dc/s1600/mein%20social.jpg" width="278" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Hitler apparently posted repeatedly to this site, ramping up his output early in 1945 and peaking in April of that year. Unfortunately, since the internet had yet to be invented, none of his posts actually showed up anywhere until 2017, when they mysteriously uploaded to a backup server in a post office in Hamburg, Germany. There they languished unread until last week, when I found them while conducting some totally above-board "research" online.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I am now releasing these, the final messages the world will ever receive from Adolf Hitler. These give a fascinating view inside the mind of a dictator when his world is crumbling around him.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEc2B4MZuRizRyNL3lAAz2lY4nCjWTTv_JaH8hGzOaQ1h_4kdOsUVtmIPTJjAjCQgWAdxOqqpjadz7rmJ6KLPBXQ21DU_heFGp6XEGFUPTLJyRSHkxzuWIzQxwUnZZ6sSVxwMo9aE8x9gM_93ZFOv_HB6O5FVIwLjo4H8G1d9yUWdx_fD9U0HO_dpDXbI/s510/hitler%20tweet%201.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="239" data-original-width="510" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEc2B4MZuRizRyNL3lAAz2lY4nCjWTTv_JaH8hGzOaQ1h_4kdOsUVtmIPTJjAjCQgWAdxOqqpjadz7rmJ6KLPBXQ21DU_heFGp6XEGFUPTLJyRSHkxzuWIzQxwUnZZ6sSVxwMo9aE8x9gM_93ZFOv_HB6O5FVIwLjo4H8G1d9yUWdx_fD9U0HO_dpDXbI/s16000/hitler%20tweet%201.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw8Y9mi_L_CWHfv0FpvssFA0D-jG0mI0iFS-AojjGF-lGR03G_Cc4wp0tCl1AVn-A9io9tAF0j7NcxgNmeOpCoUFOqX1AUW9mmcKFSzAL6vsq-q4KbGNDsHQ_2ehwyve-Jz8vkhO0y6mmfSSmoKx5doWhDkaNwJ2DCdXL9caWmC41yxqc-CC2gp3wvQ90/s510/hitler%20tweet%202.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="273" data-original-width="510" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw8Y9mi_L_CWHfv0FpvssFA0D-jG0mI0iFS-AojjGF-lGR03G_Cc4wp0tCl1AVn-A9io9tAF0j7NcxgNmeOpCoUFOqX1AUW9mmcKFSzAL6vsq-q4KbGNDsHQ_2ehwyve-Jz8vkhO0y6mmfSSmoKx5doWhDkaNwJ2DCdXL9caWmC41yxqc-CC2gp3wvQ90/s16000/hitler%20tweet%202.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn00BNZ5uxIRsjsFrH2OHtD1NqDTHBY7shgU79cFtu4inCw70t5mK_9iM99Rn48Q7SSfjgG1mFasPRBaRmjOoUgLEIzH3hWiqrqVHbobAV1HYztFwKYXtKg5r9XfZ3kJiTFtNk6uZ3B7Xnx2ATN1ZgQ9sfVLUngxqV7YlTAxp3DRZ-_NiXNkK0uOHjtBc/s510/hitler%20tweet%203.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="282" data-original-width="510" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn00BNZ5uxIRsjsFrH2OHtD1NqDTHBY7shgU79cFtu4inCw70t5mK_9iM99Rn48Q7SSfjgG1mFasPRBaRmjOoUgLEIzH3hWiqrqVHbobAV1HYztFwKYXtKg5r9XfZ3kJiTFtNk6uZ3B7Xnx2ATN1ZgQ9sfVLUngxqV7YlTAxp3DRZ-_NiXNkK0uOHjtBc/s16000/hitler%20tweet%203.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_iLauC7OZwTICX7et4NdyFvrAetjF6H_R5wB-WN3zybBkRx3dlhRieJT1ZokoF8ufL8WGdZfjspj-5ZKBMgrcR1BER4gOBYkgLRlT3tYlYRPkyEr3_4pj8qjLIy82pZ0fZEi10jPDPs3KAy9B3tvnXMNCVpxFf1JroxNBeVagtlL2K5MsWaq1ygTuo10/s509/hitler%20tweet%204.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="274" data-original-width="509" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_iLauC7OZwTICX7et4NdyFvrAetjF6H_R5wB-WN3zybBkRx3dlhRieJT1ZokoF8ufL8WGdZfjspj-5ZKBMgrcR1BER4gOBYkgLRlT3tYlYRPkyEr3_4pj8qjLIy82pZ0fZEi10jPDPs3KAy9B3tvnXMNCVpxFf1JroxNBeVagtlL2K5MsWaq1ygTuo10/s16000/hitler%20tweet%204.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSBJLtp-DNe2UGYRwqLXNjbj56rhHFBXJMZxlQxnKdqG_-daqVxGKPnzcRewRektZ3UGCyooXULDvmTlG4OgDM8LlCoKVGi4-9OJ0FYJ3Lmq_k97W6aKihqnWT1MUjwo1TYeiSzCgcwCOkzonPEm0to6dIPVDNzemvBTp5wPiHFimW0IBkA2h3iUBm9wY/s509/hitler%20tweet%205.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="247" data-original-width="509" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSBJLtp-DNe2UGYRwqLXNjbj56rhHFBXJMZxlQxnKdqG_-daqVxGKPnzcRewRektZ3UGCyooXULDvmTlG4OgDM8LlCoKVGi4-9OJ0FYJ3Lmq_k97W6aKihqnWT1MUjwo1TYeiSzCgcwCOkzonPEm0to6dIPVDNzemvBTp5wPiHFimW0IBkA2h3iUBm9wY/s16000/hitler%20tweet%205.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCQrO4exY6Sjn0N4GID1ntEAIfVAH7s8eH9_6GqhYnpgpR4v8lTXqG7taLsLZRczKSWUHsOf_67WzM0HQPfxZTRlfwcKHIihOTpdXvHMDe-ZUtHHSO0qV5RQiLMpZlGt26uD7s3T-5Phh--S7RMM4OkNghE9h8_n-F4edcHyY2WpcK6Vm89YkwHGsKESc/s510/hitler%20tweet%206.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="262" data-original-width="510" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCQrO4exY6Sjn0N4GID1ntEAIfVAH7s8eH9_6GqhYnpgpR4v8lTXqG7taLsLZRczKSWUHsOf_67WzM0HQPfxZTRlfwcKHIihOTpdXvHMDe-ZUtHHSO0qV5RQiLMpZlGt26uD7s3T-5Phh--S7RMM4OkNghE9h8_n-F4edcHyY2WpcK6Vm89YkwHGsKESc/s16000/hitler%20tweet%206.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-41760713750412775722023-05-10T21:25:00.000-07:002023-05-10T21:25:30.989-07:00I Have Some Ideas For Future Moral PanicsI have always thought of myself as a forward-thinking person. I like to plan ahead; failing to do so can result in nasty surprises, creating situations one is not prepared for. You risk becoming trapped in that most desperate of circumstances: having nothing in your life to be unreasonably terrified of. <div><br /></div><div>I absolutely would not want anyone to go through that experience. It's a horrible, empty feeling, and, I swear, I would not wish it on my worst enemies. Just imagine--not being afraid of or outraged by something possibly going on somewhere that has no real effect on your life but offends you grievously. Think about it--how can you say you care about children when you're not even remotely freaking out? </div><div><br /></div><div>I believe the current moral panic over drag shows will eventually fade, as all moral panics do. Either people will stop wearing clothes and accessories traditionally associated with the opposite sex due to new laws, death threats and other forms of intimidation, or, maybe, Americans will come to their senses and realize it's not actually a threat to anyone and they've been losing their shit over nothing. </div><div><br /></div><div>HA HA HA HA HA HA. Kidding. Seriously, though, eventually the panic will end. </div><div><br /></div><div>So--and this is a public service I am happy to perform--I have been racking my brain and examining our entire culture to come up with some ideas for the next moral panic. We should have months or even years left with the current model, but it never hurts to have somebody in the on-deck circle. </div><div><br /></div><div>So I will present some ideas here. For illustration, I'm using Tucker Carlson screenshots from his old show on Fox News. Yes, I am aware he's been fired, and his rumored future show on Twitter will only interest people lacking the internet skills to find it, but I'm going with the assumption that Fox News will soon replace him with someone who looks and sounds just like him. You know, angry white guy in a suit, who resembles nothing so much as the bad guy in an episode of <i>Charlie's Angels</i>. The talent pool is pretty deep. They'll find somebody. </div><div><br /></div><div>So here goes: </div><div><br /></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">1.Magicians</span></b> </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdAjvTsm9m8BwDcOm8--12K_X0U_CCO6_4trV4bmYnNhN_1c4pn7Gk-squVbUvqXZnI9atQtR8nz98AURzousVtPsR_GYLr9GxqqmcEafWhOCN--SbBrZ7MbINmcUHVBVnESp4OdwTj9j_EKYbk_IA5zRoAQLi_90PvvMRRxNHpPTa65WCeSwJsvKR/s858/tucker%20magician.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="493" data-original-width="858" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdAjvTsm9m8BwDcOm8--12K_X0U_CCO6_4trV4bmYnNhN_1c4pn7Gk-squVbUvqXZnI9atQtR8nz98AURzousVtPsR_GYLr9GxqqmcEafWhOCN--SbBrZ7MbINmcUHVBVnESp4OdwTj9j_EKYbk_IA5zRoAQLi_90PvvMRRxNHpPTa65WCeSwJsvKR/w400-h230/tucker%20magician.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Well, this is obvious. The stage magician sawing women in half, making people disappear, making flowers appear from nothing--either these are tricks designed to fool us, or these performers are tapping into a power not of God. If it's the latter, our children may learn to harness this power themselves. </div><div><br /></div><div>Two words: <i>parental rights</i>. We have a right to mold our children into what we want them to be, to control their lives absolutely, and never have them question their roles in this world. We can <i>not</i> have them levitating about and throwing lightning bolts and shit. This might interfere with Bible study.</div><div><br /></div><div>If it's the former, and these are merely tricks designed to fool us, I, for one, do not want to know. </div><div><br /></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">2. Mimes</span></b> </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_PcEJZqez-D49burzNzl8D0KeS1T59WUIHWFgH9nG2RZTH4UBMVoz90i9LBHUF-yd9gVvtiNyN5Mc-Xx3Ij7SRRFc6LIWpNGhEn4U_pLz6MED2XxZh1nHz42k2H9EF0NRrvIzu4r95Bk54-k4JSzmAhKGc1hSD95xe80hAJk4hd1SU96sKJwpHuWF/s858/tucker%20mime.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="493" data-original-width="858" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_PcEJZqez-D49burzNzl8D0KeS1T59WUIHWFgH9nG2RZTH4UBMVoz90i9LBHUF-yd9gVvtiNyN5Mc-Xx3Ij7SRRFc6LIWpNGhEn4U_pLz6MED2XxZh1nHz42k2H9EF0NRrvIzu4r95Bk54-k4JSzmAhKGc1hSD95xe80hAJk4hd1SU96sKJwpHuWF/w400-h230/tucker%20mime.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Yes, this is some seriously low-hanging fruit here, as no one likes mimes. But how are they a threat to children, exactly? How can we make our case? </div><div><br /></div><div>Well, they don't talk. THEY DON'T TALK. This obviously endangers children, who may learn to imitate the mimes, then grow up to be adults that know how to shut the fuck up. This could lead to, among other undesirable traits, a habit of listening to others. </div><div><br /></div><div>Mimes are clearly grooming our children, and it must stop. Lock them up in a box, I say. </div><div><br /></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">3. Bob Ross</span></b> </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVsckZdkW38DnHCScNqY-MJYyb23PuDuRudj1OHVNb4pghpvzl5xqAdqcnWN9ROS9bHxyv5eb6kBm11NtXhOORf4qMWb1v0JFzpa4XD2T88w_Qxq4al2TbcyG9H6H--pqA63DKT0u9Os33DGrHlz_YrN8JvDjUiikAuA-Gi2D5nU_GMhl_5Psi8tTd/s858/tucker%20bobross.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="493" data-original-width="858" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVsckZdkW38DnHCScNqY-MJYyb23PuDuRudj1OHVNb4pghpvzl5xqAdqcnWN9ROS9bHxyv5eb6kBm11NtXhOORf4qMWb1v0JFzpa4XD2T88w_Qxq4al2TbcyG9H6H--pqA63DKT0u9Os33DGrHlz_YrN8JvDjUiikAuA-Gi2D5nU_GMhl_5Psi8tTd/w400-h230/tucker%20bobross.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Oh, this guy. <i>This guy</i>. </div><div><br /></div><div>First of all, the guy is constantly painting happy trees. HAPPY TREES, people.
If children grow up believing that trees are happy, they might not see them for the clear existential threat that they are. Children could come to respect them as valuable living things, and fail to understand that trees are giant, monstrous beasts that provide homes and food to vermin, cause pollution, and need to be removed so four more people have a place to park their cars. </div><div><br /></div><div>He also teaches that you can do anything you can imagine, that you have control over your world, that nature is beautiful, and that little mistakes can become happy accidents. What kind of lesson is that? The danger here is that it will distract children and not prepare them for their true destiny: a utopian future of banned books, active shooter drills, and working with industrial solvents in a factory at age 12. </div><div><br /></div><div>And that hair? It's clearly...<i>ethnic</i>. Multi-cultural and woke. Woke, woke, woke. Like he's saying it's okay for white people to borrow from a culture not invented by white people. Like that's okay. </div><div><br /></div><div>Also, from the looks of it, his hair could have squirrels or something living in it. <i>Squirrels</i>. Need I say more? </div><div><br /></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">4. Dogs Playing Poker</span></b> </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmPSn0bl1apFM4fRDV94waBlFidK9Vcc2Fx2g6T0b5UHJlDE49nb8R8k2SmWVd_w5j41osgarCwftNi39avb6u1xgIBd5j9oB99SDj0L-a_cB0YfVMG1909SkA1UX6uJP7lTi1NuA3RtHfcgi6Cevd0J4bYU2IPR4TPZ-zGDU49vkgSMOUEQe7ElJ0/s858/tucker%20dogs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="493" data-original-width="858" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmPSn0bl1apFM4fRDV94waBlFidK9Vcc2Fx2g6T0b5UHJlDE49nb8R8k2SmWVd_w5j41osgarCwftNi39avb6u1xgIBd5j9oB99SDj0L-a_cB0YfVMG1909SkA1UX6uJP7lTi1NuA3RtHfcgi6Cevd0J4bYU2IPR4TPZ-zGDU49vkgSMOUEQe7ElJ0/w400-h230/tucker%20dogs.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Dogs do not play poker. DOGS DO NOT PLAY POKER. I mean, they can barely even hold the cards. WHAT ARE WE TEACHING OUR CHILDREN? And how does this help them learn how to handle industrial solvents? </div><div><br /></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">5. Spelling Bees</span></b> </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH_fzKVmtLlJ-r1t2mkjaVgQl4M6diwyRlC-9KHiEBt23xdM8HceYk1Y4sfhj09nlYFP4NHS7T-6_x4ZN4o_4TFyXodGqr6w48ExL7UdzittqAnB7gIIYd_qLoCjkSFiRqPt8ra8s_kwh63dQaPcH35mRvbhVsu6nh93bYMb9_v0MTcURaHoOpEX9U/s858/tucker%20spelling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="493" data-original-width="858" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH_fzKVmtLlJ-r1t2mkjaVgQl4M6diwyRlC-9KHiEBt23xdM8HceYk1Y4sfhj09nlYFP4NHS7T-6_x4ZN4o_4TFyXodGqr6w48ExL7UdzittqAnB7gIIYd_qLoCjkSFiRqPt8ra8s_kwh63dQaPcH35mRvbhVsu6nh93bYMb9_v0MTcURaHoOpEX9U/w400-h230/tucker%20spelling.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>These contests groom children by teaching them to spell big words. And that, my friends, is the slipperiest of slopes. It's a gateway, clearly, to learning what those words mean. And that could lead to...reading. Reading <i>books</i>. That's right. Books, which, as we know, are often written by <i>authors</i>. This is not the future we want. </div><div><br /></div><div>Also, if kids know big words, how are we as adults supposed to show them how smart we are? I am at a loss. </div><div><br /></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">6. Mr. Bean</span></b> </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpYGBThRJrikl6BP_6vHWYeiaV7Qmva3fn1IkmpNR60Mzr9mhwxzqN3vjey6aabwBILR71nlKFohrIenwwFeErnmqyo-_jzo6kRZXlXB9qXNmpI669Pi8_BCmGmOQ9eMVUM4Rju8Hk_lRGFBJ0V8deoocfun5Mp8jdy4yermh8T53Tlg06CSuF4c4K/s858/tucker%20mrbean.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="493" data-original-width="858" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpYGBThRJrikl6BP_6vHWYeiaV7Qmva3fn1IkmpNR60Mzr9mhwxzqN3vjey6aabwBILR71nlKFohrIenwwFeErnmqyo-_jzo6kRZXlXB9qXNmpI669Pi8_BCmGmOQ9eMVUM4Rju8Hk_lRGFBJ0V8deoocfun5Mp8jdy4yermh8T53Tlg06CSuF4c4K/w400-h230/tucker%20mrbean.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>He's cute, he's funny, and he's clearly unarmed. This will turn our children gay.</div>feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-43530206588914376612023-04-03T10:54:00.000-07:002023-04-03T10:54:41.404-07:00Update: No, That's Not Why Computers Were Invented, My Twitter Experience Is Over, And I'm King of the Fifth Grade AgainIt's possible that I may have <a href="https://killedbyfish.blogspot.com/2022/07/why-computers-were-invented.html" target="_blank">gushed a little too excitedly</a> on the wonders of turning text prompts into images through the use of AI technology.<div><br /><div>Yes, I had a terrific amount of fun for a few weeks, but novelty does wear off eventually, and the more I thought about it, the more I worried about the obvious dangers of this technology falling into the wrong hands. And by "wrong hands," of course, I mean "the general public." In other words, <i>people.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>People are scum. They will use this technology like they've used every advance throughout history, to screw each other over. Now it can be done with machine-like efficiency.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then there's that other danger, that AI will take over the world and make the perfectly sensible and defensible decision to eliminate humanity.<i> </i>On one of my last forays with Craiyon, I decided to ask a direct question:</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyuapzhTKWxkf4gBvK0bjRs_itBcJQIi5gFHBxe-nuL1wiUiXWJtaZyfl5CMr28A50O5ew1nqEWo4cuLv0QORe71Wip02MqGwuRdu44fioedmJleWnnZq4lOdCmhed8kFe0pKeHX2CM87qIwznuvDxkmWSFdNdjILy8Mf_OIPm6mHSxqgT94l_FHou/s931/craiyon_180305_you_re_really_skynet__aren_t_you_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="931" data-original-width="760" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyuapzhTKWxkf4gBvK0bjRs_itBcJQIi5gFHBxe-nuL1wiUiXWJtaZyfl5CMr28A50O5ew1nqEWo4cuLv0QORe71Wip02MqGwuRdu44fioedmJleWnnZq4lOdCmhed8kFe0pKeHX2CM87qIwznuvDxkmWSFdNdjILy8Mf_OIPm6mHSxqgT94l_FHou/w522-h640/craiyon_180305_you_re_really_skynet__aren_t_you_.jpg" width="522" /></a></div><div><br /></div>I'll take that as a <i>yes.</i></div><div><i><br /></i><div>And now we have Chat GPT and the like, which can generate a wall of grammatically correct text based on some simple prompt, making writers like me obsolete, or would if we weren't already obsolete due to the fact that nobody reads anymore. It does appear that there are still some bugs in the technology, as AI doesn't seem to be able to tell the difference between facts and the feverish internet ranting of whatever randos that it is trained on. Or maybe that's a feature, I don't know. But using algorithms to predict the next word in a sentence based on people's usage of the language is bound to have problems, because, as we know, people use words wrong a lot.</div><div><br /></div><div>If my experience with autosuggest is any guide, I'll be better off choosing my own words for the balance of my life. I was writing a comment on another blog recently and wanted to include a reference to an event in which some lizards rode a natural raft across the ocean to another island and proceeded to colonize that new island. The words "lizards rafting over from another" resulted in the suggested next word <i>planet.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>Uh, yeah. I'll just continue to do my own writing. Sorry, Skynet, I don't need your help. I was writing professionally when you were still playing <i>Pong, </i>you dumb bastard.</div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>And now, regarding the Twitter experience...</div><div><br /></div><div>I wrote<a href="https://killedbyfish.blogspot.com/2022/06/my-experience-with-twitter-thus-far.html" target="_blank"> here about my experience</a> with the bird-logoed social media site. Shortly thereafter, one Elon Musk bought Twitter, and between his demonstrated misunderstanding of how free speech works, and the fact that I prefer that billionaires not make more money off me than necessary, I abandoned ship, and have not looked back. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have been following the news, however, and have managed to derive more than a little schadenfreude from watching Elon flail about as advertisers and users flee and his new acquisition loses money to the point where he is telling everyone that Twitter, for which he paid the princely sum of $44 billion, is now evaluated at $20 billion. Tempering my joy somewhat is the knowledge that he mostly is putting <i>other </i>people's money at risk, because that's what billionaires do. That's how they get to stay billionaires despite legacies of repeated failures, and how they retain power and influence despite obvious idiocy.</div><div><br /></div><div>And Elon has that in spades. I mean, the man can't even get off a passable <i>that's what she said </i>joke, which I'm guessing any half-bright nine-year-old could pull off.</div><div><br /></div><div>Two problems billionaires always seem to have: they never think they're making enough money, and they don't get humor.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRN7JGgGDmX7lMd6ueZZJZTcCViaohb7Bc7dhQL6qbg0aZkK1ZIJjdLGySM2zZDZpqhP8heE9qjyd8_vDtjzOD76UMo0KrjA0UaiMqueFnUtIfapWgLma0nk7LmZ22rp47-8kcBcUIqj2bo7jawzAonDDCwKT6PmKVSwrUPalxn-dOk2GXZd_f1mmX/s561/elon.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="296" data-original-width="561" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRN7JGgGDmX7lMd6ueZZJZTcCViaohb7Bc7dhQL6qbg0aZkK1ZIJjdLGySM2zZDZpqhP8heE9qjyd8_vDtjzOD76UMo0KrjA0UaiMqueFnUtIfapWgLma0nk7LmZ22rp47-8kcBcUIqj2bo7jawzAonDDCwKT6PmKVSwrUPalxn-dOk2GXZd_f1mmX/w400-h211/elon.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Knock knock."<br />"<i>Who's there?"</i><br />"I don't know. Ha ha ha ha ha."</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>In any case, Twitter is now in my rear-view mirror. Which, I think, is an option now on the new Tesla vehicles, along with a steering wheel.</div><div><br /></div><div>As for the last part of the title of this post, that whole "King of the Fifth Grade" bit, <a href="https://killedbyfish.blogspot.com/2011/10/my-life-as-kansas-city-chiefs-fan.html" target="_blank">you can find the full explanation here. </a> Things have certainly changed since I wrote that back in 2011; I now live in a world where the Kansas City Chiefs are a budding NFL dynasty, with three Super Bowl appearances and two championships in the last four years. My football life has never been better, and the best part?</div><div><br /></div><div>I deserve every bit of it.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i><div><br /></div></div></div>feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-71404905863749155752022-07-09T12:40:00.003-07:002023-06-07T17:26:40.150-07:00Why Computers Were Invented<p> I have wanted to try this since I saw my first example on Twitter. This is craiyon, formerly known as DALL-E mini, and every other artistic medium that ever existed is now obsolete.<img border="0" data-original-height="931" data-original-width="760" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4pv4O8QkXZa3Z2bMZjOyyY6JBFiFz24yR9IinnGHO-zplnqfiyKibY4ljiBZ4GtFWl32MK1cAqvRMD8bjwBguTguZnqfju771c0HSEqviAQWaNnIxtzq34ybbeiipSPCJootPag0UIbzjFgVazZWC5C-BlVv6O1y_NTj-xBX5jejX8bVs9DjWR8gx/w522-h640/craiyon_102551_steven_seagal_fighting_a_beachball.jpg" width="522" /></p><span></span><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4pv4O8QkXZa3Z2bMZjOyyY6JBFiFz24yR9IinnGHO-zplnqfiyKibY4ljiBZ4GtFWl32MK1cAqvRMD8bjwBguTguZnqfju771c0HSEqviAQWaNnIxtzq34ybbeiipSPCJootPag0UIbzjFgVazZWC5C-BlVv6O1y_NTj-xBX5jejX8bVs9DjWR8gx/s931/craiyon_102551_steven_seagal_fighting_a_beachball.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4pv4O8QkXZa3Z2bMZjOyyY6JBFiFz24yR9IinnGHO-zplnqfiyKibY4ljiBZ4GtFWl32MK1cAqvRMD8bjwBguTguZnqfju771c0HSEqviAQWaNnIxtzq34ybbeiipSPCJootPag0UIbzjFgVazZWC5C-BlVv6O1y_NTj-xBX5jejX8bVs9DjWR8gx/s931/craiyon_102551_steven_seagal_fighting_a_beachball.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4blwIvKeoRbd9So51FtAgYY3p0Ipra3PN_MGmxjnxTvRVXjenCwDcLCtAjXH3U-qEdgc8OuNS7KXyiw-8LE96oiEbPyxlaSHuOelB7ztj3Tlcrh0KyKIoaPDriu1v9XOomDqUgZYDXG5LTUDkUuatzx6dhlpKhMKl-x5MLW0L3W1RREbPJOwdbqgD/s931/craiyon_101808_richard_nixon_having_sex_with_R2D2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="931" data-original-width="760" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4blwIvKeoRbd9So51FtAgYY3p0Ipra3PN_MGmxjnxTvRVXjenCwDcLCtAjXH3U-qEdgc8OuNS7KXyiw-8LE96oiEbPyxlaSHuOelB7ztj3Tlcrh0KyKIoaPDriu1v9XOomDqUgZYDXG5LTUDkUuatzx6dhlpKhMKl-x5MLW0L3W1RREbPJOwdbqgD/w522-h640/craiyon_101808_richard_nixon_having_sex_with_R2D2.jpg" width="522" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0000ee;"><u><br /></u></span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg5VMq7D-a9VI8pl6Qt6AR4deB0VjjmKQNMvAaLiBb2PC0OPB4Pgaknk07J1CtqyFq7IsXJQsbTjvG0IJowouMJ2SwSySeTqU-wGUxvLmL0EpOw4ccAMBApw697Q3OlvDLWTIyfeIPLoI9XEkNDYeharxwUthnfWjhZlQdb34ATkeWs35KMoED19QU/s931/craiyon_105028_lauren_boebert_kissing_an_iguana.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="931" data-original-width="760" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg5VMq7D-a9VI8pl6Qt6AR4deB0VjjmKQNMvAaLiBb2PC0OPB4Pgaknk07J1CtqyFq7IsXJQsbTjvG0IJowouMJ2SwSySeTqU-wGUxvLmL0EpOw4ccAMBApw697Q3OlvDLWTIyfeIPLoI9XEkNDYeharxwUthnfWjhZlQdb34ATkeWs35KMoED19QU/w522-h640/craiyon_105028_lauren_boebert_kissing_an_iguana.jpg" width="522" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7QHo9-rKAenkrl0H2B-7CMVlLUWkWmsuWHAswJK66W9lgsDFutRI-ata2Z4SSbRdJv_lhMSMIWlkXRuE-LPC6_xfokmglroHP2itrIHv7lw1UIqTZYrZ_QRP6CzF90QyBbydfkYZ7_53XgaJBzndcjzXz9zMh_S48ujG0PIaWHZEcdkCQQiNGkDVg/s931/craiyon_111204_bob_ross_painting_with_a_toilet_plunger.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="931" data-original-width="760" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7QHo9-rKAenkrl0H2B-7CMVlLUWkWmsuWHAswJK66W9lgsDFutRI-ata2Z4SSbRdJv_lhMSMIWlkXRuE-LPC6_xfokmglroHP2itrIHv7lw1UIqTZYrZ_QRP6CzF90QyBbydfkYZ7_53XgaJBzndcjzXz9zMh_S48ujG0PIaWHZEcdkCQQiNGkDVg/w522-h640/craiyon_111204_bob_ross_painting_with_a_toilet_plunger.jpg" width="522" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3x07ZKVFyBcLzM7iml-VgwPiWsrVeB7EWYNdBaRbALe2RjgqZSes8t1JmH_nJZrxyTJ034n4Dfei3y07ogdgc-T65vNE0wWxNAb1RJsKb8T_M_vn9I7xbGe7jok3hswYYMDdFNc2_1EXMyV-lUDflHDTjFCYf0FynidEA_ouTGyZd0OhskFMD7Amy/s931/craiyon_112654_billy_graham_preaching_to_nutria.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="931" data-original-width="760" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3x07ZKVFyBcLzM7iml-VgwPiWsrVeB7EWYNdBaRbALe2RjgqZSes8t1JmH_nJZrxyTJ034n4Dfei3y07ogdgc-T65vNE0wWxNAb1RJsKb8T_M_vn9I7xbGe7jok3hswYYMDdFNc2_1EXMyV-lUDflHDTjFCYf0FynidEA_ouTGyZd0OhskFMD7Amy/w522-h640/craiyon_112654_billy_graham_preaching_to_nutria.jpg" width="522" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTUiWS_7MBb-r_tHRUCrrv-LSmtP6JjYnUBKxAUhHi0fCfbLnu9_131gd4pKCZpnr7dlktd68jGQx2X6Y5Ay-H0LpqwBiqHVHheUwVJHVPob_R-cZ5nld5X_56n0H_-txpwhB8zBWfuvsKKlIGfoFaxJf21sm2o29jDVsSOAfs-vWCax_azYjp_QYo/s931/craiyon_114524_scott_bakula_moai_statue.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="931" data-original-width="760" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTUiWS_7MBb-r_tHRUCrrv-LSmtP6JjYnUBKxAUhHi0fCfbLnu9_131gd4pKCZpnr7dlktd68jGQx2X6Y5Ay-H0LpqwBiqHVHheUwVJHVPob_R-cZ5nld5X_56n0H_-txpwhB8zBWfuvsKKlIGfoFaxJf21sm2o29jDVsSOAfs-vWCax_azYjp_QYo/w522-h640/craiyon_114524_scott_bakula_moai_statue.jpg" width="522" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9xG_2TkHRdgVsIo4aIX_OxTwVoBAbhl09_24ot13AY9P83xH35XTSlrNn1mnWgQj8HOtwIUWqLCnohCnwfkkpnzfucuQEa3hP5eI6_L6o3U2EmHulkMpW4i3u6cpwPSbngJnjHyI1WmM0uWGVXvAvCkqb28VwJQmq05zFoYRaaT-XS5f-eoZJFbaw/s931/craiyon_111832_van_gogh_portrait_of_sideshow_bob.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="931" data-original-width="760" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9xG_2TkHRdgVsIo4aIX_OxTwVoBAbhl09_24ot13AY9P83xH35XTSlrNn1mnWgQj8HOtwIUWqLCnohCnwfkkpnzfucuQEa3hP5eI6_L6o3U2EmHulkMpW4i3u6cpwPSbngJnjHyI1WmM0uWGVXvAvCkqb28VwJQmq05zFoYRaaT-XS5f-eoZJFbaw/w522-h640/craiyon_111832_van_gogh_portrait_of_sideshow_bob.jpg" width="522" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>And finally (for now):</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhx7iCaqcj5c4ULPou8C54ylBVNLHrR4rYnToUwZtPZSRWnNcGofsvKe0cU4uNx4vIAHuXoCl89cInEusJkulfLimaoVcwfrX3eMalOk73fuIYk0BsWuBH_o4TuQx7i6DdQJQLKjipeCPRS7Nmx7iP-OyFHihtLsTsDm6hPkzB7ehHqmWMwMtuRZER/s931/craiyon_121227_cowboy_fucking_a_football.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="931" data-original-width="760" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhx7iCaqcj5c4ULPou8C54ylBVNLHrR4rYnToUwZtPZSRWnNcGofsvKe0cU4uNx4vIAHuXoCl89cInEusJkulfLimaoVcwfrX3eMalOk73fuIYk0BsWuBH_o4TuQx7i6DdQJQLKjipeCPRS7Nmx7iP-OyFHihtLsTsDm6hPkzB7ehHqmWMwMtuRZER/w522-h640/craiyon_121227_cowboy_fucking_a_football.jpg" width="522" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-78177912145200930392022-06-30T20:02:00.000-07:002022-06-30T20:02:17.864-07:00My Experience With Twitter Thus Far<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiVXMymglhOY5cjOPNX1nPhH3hoeC_fnP4-RemVTKLKCUMEokCDFduGPT_K80JiBBxaEpNrFxJN29sP7pW4h5wDRILs7NNF1HADETW17cK1uryfX5tGsmbr8WlTFgMUb3qdE5JCtSm6Cj3iKToqppbYjt5fYlkUJK4_NpZ4VojXcw2IVCTjq9X2lZl/s590/head%20twit.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="252" data-original-width="590" height="171" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiVXMymglhOY5cjOPNX1nPhH3hoeC_fnP4-RemVTKLKCUMEokCDFduGPT_K80JiBBxaEpNrFxJN29sP7pW4h5wDRILs7NNF1HADETW17cK1uryfX5tGsmbr8WlTFgMUb3qdE5JCtSm6Cj3iKToqppbYjt5fYlkUJK4_NpZ4VojXcw2IVCTjq9X2lZl/w400-h171/head%20twit.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /> When I re-acquired home internet service a few months ago, after mostly being away from it for nine years, I had grand ideas about reviving my blog, reconnecting and catching up with all the other blogs I used to follow, and being part of a smart and articulate virtual community again.<p></p><p>Little did I know, the internet went through some changes between 2012 and 2022. Some of the blogs I used to read are, well, not exactly <i>dead, </i>I would say, but any life left there resembles a lichen--technically alive, just not very ambitious. And of the ones that are still active, the comment sections have slowed to a point that make them no longer a place to hang out.</p><p>So, Twitter. </p><p>I wouldn't have thought it, but Twitter has ended up being my main online hangout, despite the limitations of the 280-character format, despite not having heard anything good about it for years and years. I restarted my account, @feralboy12. I am mostly calling myself Nick Soapdish, although I can change that depending on my mood. And I do have moods.</p><p>My legion of followers currently numbers 38. Most of my tweets are replies to tweets from people much more famous than I, luminaries such as William Shatner, George Takei, David Crosby, Michael McKean, Lynda Carter, Mike Pence, Liz Cheney, and Herschel Walker, none of whom have acknowledged my commentary, and Sophia Bush, who has.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwSe07a63FDZZcgzS1mBGpqFF1GAILKQn8bVcniUHBejGhWahpLUbj0CiDLANLwZs6IkItoOukfSdyDmI4_rSbP-MNr_aiY_0PCNEpsvkUe_rrErHqhSK_0qn-Aj9xVc7YQuvK-o8ZM3Ej-W0JM5KCnF3hwtrQoG7KILXHkaFQ4C0uKrwXdGVnwWS3/s593/she%20likes%20me.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="156" data-original-width="593" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwSe07a63FDZZcgzS1mBGpqFF1GAILKQn8bVcniUHBejGhWahpLUbj0CiDLANLwZs6IkItoOukfSdyDmI4_rSbP-MNr_aiY_0PCNEpsvkUe_rrErHqhSK_0qn-Aj9xVc7YQuvK-o8ZM3Ej-W0JM5KCnF3hwtrQoG7KILXHkaFQ4C0uKrwXdGVnwWS3/s16000/she%20likes%20me.png" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3A6FNrsYdxWn-_ct-BqzfA5LRMPLIs046iqaUHJaDBoOubQJ1S5xh7alR5nSTsijyc9lvr24hiVHfFWZ1jTCe8zztDsTCEUfCZrCQyeBmzBFR67DTc_WAaONbEBWnIkOR2EHexvSCx7DN1C3fGD5yKOs2LnplmyjWKBpyCRCH1CToKQpd4V0AAi4H/s457/sophia.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="457" data-original-width="341" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3A6FNrsYdxWn-_ct-BqzfA5LRMPLIs046iqaUHJaDBoOubQJ1S5xh7alR5nSTsijyc9lvr24hiVHfFWZ1jTCe8zztDsTCEUfCZrCQyeBmzBFR67DTc_WAaONbEBWnIkOR2EHexvSCx7DN1C3fGD5yKOs2LnplmyjWKBpyCRCH1CToKQpd4V0AAi4H/s320/sophia.png" width="239" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She likes me. I have the receipt.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>But most of what I had been hearing about Twitter led me to expect a fairly godawful experience; the term I have heard most often is "cesspool." In my experience, though, Twitter is more like a giant field full of weird plants and many anthills. It's possible to wander about and simply observe, remaining inconspicuous, mainly reading and watching videos, avoid the troublesome areas, and have a reasonably entertaining time. I do this sometimes.</div><div><br /></div><div>But it actually takes some effort not to wander over to one of the anthills and just check things out. And, me being me, having a serious case of "someone's wrong on the internet!" I can't always resist tossing something in among those busy little insects.</div><div><br /></div><div>And it really is like disturbing an ant's nest. Countless weird little robotic creatures begin scurrying about, dashing here and there in furious, yet oddly pointless, activity. They reply back to you, repeatedly, then they reply to each other, repeatedly, posting pictures and memes and gifs, repeatedly, even if you never reply back, going on and on long after you've stopped checking your notifications for the day.</div><div><br /></div><div>And they do sometimes snap at you, rearing up their little insect heads, getting all bitey with antennae waving wildly, intending to be threatening, behavior which might actually work against, say, another ant.</div><div><br /></div><div>This exchange started with a tweet from the esteemed Republican congresswoman from Georgia, Marjorie Taylor Greene, regarding the horrors supposedly found on Hunter Biden's laptop. She had no specifics on what was supposedly found there, but whatever it was, she seemed to want to impeach Joe Biden for it. I channeled my inner Colonel Kurtz and my inner Perry Mason and replied.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJoOpVj52nKXaKnWt10_YIEFFePBhQb_Lzirhl6-ImNjnXU57yzjd2P8EfJJsO3Vq62CAp9LvfHlFP1cIGt1VUwfcgrvhMmHabD-6kU_rzFajhk8MIeQGIpM6MRtEgFX4DiDQO__lTkzZmnu6ILUpjuUlFVSvjG1ZnqhOZT6XSce92GXdYipjNUGAg/s587/horror%201.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="564" data-original-width="587" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJoOpVj52nKXaKnWt10_YIEFFePBhQb_Lzirhl6-ImNjnXU57yzjd2P8EfJJsO3Vq62CAp9LvfHlFP1cIGt1VUwfcgrvhMmHabD-6kU_rzFajhk8MIeQGIpM6MRtEgFX4DiDQO__lTkzZmnu6ILUpjuUlFVSvjG1ZnqhOZT6XSce92GXdYipjNUGAg/w400-h384/horror%201.png" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>(Unrelated, that last tweet there is in reference to my photo of the Paul Bunyan and Babe statues at Trees of Mystery, as seen in my profile pic at the head of this post.)</div><div><br /></div><div>But that little kick did seem to set them in motion. And then things got weird for a while. I just watched.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYH9PQEeLG1RYyxQZdsmTRGfdFTnP1aqsfycRLwY2jxxETlEOq82TBGwyRO19NM2ag9cLZB7vku0nIM6p_d7Ik7cUcrPmWqTVTiF6KmiyDgLFu0pPOHZdP0uaFt26063sp51EaAuldK84DjH6SCVqKGNSMTpaHrHCCNUNA9D8HUhvICy1mCdEM2oOt/s595/horror%202.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="595" data-original-width="593" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYH9PQEeLG1RYyxQZdsmTRGfdFTnP1aqsfycRLwY2jxxETlEOq82TBGwyRO19NM2ag9cLZB7vku0nIM6p_d7Ik7cUcrPmWqTVTiF6KmiyDgLFu0pPOHZdP0uaFt26063sp51EaAuldK84DjH6SCVqKGNSMTpaHrHCCNUNA9D8HUhvICy1mCdEM2oOt/w399-h400/horror%202.png" width="399" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaAa40jnX2Ol1yIesNhBJs6WLr-Na3RNJ5AAaJNq7piBLAxx9obm_If5xx-YbFeZD6QYmfHxF0AQyki3jM_KwAxjRRJ-0RJjKv_gxuiWG62UW27QT1Pqfz2nl_1_vaSIvtaBj63TiWBwHt1zFz3J5NO9rfF5_HOsNEgeY17hMZMedWMjA9bQSxqJqZ/s643/horror%203.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="643" data-original-width="583" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaAa40jnX2Ol1yIesNhBJs6WLr-Na3RNJ5AAaJNq7piBLAxx9obm_If5xx-YbFeZD6QYmfHxF0AQyki3jM_KwAxjRRJ-0RJjKv_gxuiWG62UW27QT1Pqfz2nl_1_vaSIvtaBj63TiWBwHt1zFz3J5NO9rfF5_HOsNEgeY17hMZMedWMjA9bQSxqJqZ/w363-h400/horror%203.png" width="363" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxdYM3m5l9YQfafVSkUfGGMSjcfh2Rl2XZxEyvhbhiXUOxAtX0Wj0z3Eeee6Je0unzfxIs8Wn6HxqFYYxKbuBb_79O2vYlh247hmc5UJndPBhhy_3xG2YSGeFETonefhm5tcJ9nfil8AvhRAJVwgwotyQjyWkJr4So7aeicfXAkpuS9CT1lmTXJJp8/s596/horror%205.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="593" data-original-width="596" height="398" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxdYM3m5l9YQfafVSkUfGGMSjcfh2Rl2XZxEyvhbhiXUOxAtX0Wj0z3Eeee6Je0unzfxIs8Wn6HxqFYYxKbuBb_79O2vYlh247hmc5UJndPBhhy_3xG2YSGeFETonefhm5tcJ9nfil8AvhRAJVwgwotyQjyWkJr4So7aeicfXAkpuS9CT1lmTXJJp8/w400-h398/horror%205.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3i6c8mnPahlJ63kXuRtVbLVr0nMOGBLZsfaCIRjWR28iJ6MBc6faqLLlF_K0QWCzqN1EfHJjrmTDnPhcUiIUzdH_ejSUPADzVnZjENpwybyMcpCt18-2A9UJ2oHxSDdDZ6fesf8Mt4RdMB97814oSVVeXhSdsTwJHkHLftrKlQErU2WMRcQ2Y3Hp4/s595/horror%207.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="595" data-original-width="583" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3i6c8mnPahlJ63kXuRtVbLVr0nMOGBLZsfaCIRjWR28iJ6MBc6faqLLlF_K0QWCzqN1EfHJjrmTDnPhcUiIUzdH_ejSUPADzVnZjENpwybyMcpCt18-2A9UJ2oHxSDdDZ6fesf8Mt4RdMB97814oSVVeXhSdsTwJHkHLftrKlQErU2WMRcQ2Y3Hp4/w393-h400/horror%207.png" width="393" /></a></div><br /><div>First of all, Mike is right. I would avoid watching child porn if someone tried to show me some.</div><div>Please, please, people, tell me you're not sending each other child porn over the internet? </div><div><br /></div><div>There was more. I'll spare you, however.</div><div><br /></div><div>Most of my interactions have been more benign than this encounter. I suppose the high point so far is Sophia Bush; second might be the time I made former U.S. Surgeon General Jerome Adams laugh with a joke about toothpaste, getting an actual, verified "LOL" in reply.</div><div><br /></div><div>The pinnacle, of course, would be to get a reply or like from William Shatner. That hasn't happened yet. Either he doesn't read his replies, or he doesn't actually enjoy unsolicited references to a role he played on TV decades ago.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk9qS8l1uyzrQEoldPbGG6_rDfURD9KIe7jgpgJ8cxFQ7746QyGIlHyhirYlgHjpxqax_Wq1MKF25bqiIkxszTvxFHrpXk6guFQXD_IvG2Iab3c-CjC_7ZdYl2_R5lvqf4845bMBWGJ6wkJRJqKAn2yA3R8UGmaMswPX0AZuVsA1yIkpoQJT_y-MOF/s434/kurok%20hug.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="325" data-original-width="434" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk9qS8l1uyzrQEoldPbGG6_rDfURD9KIe7jgpgJ8cxFQ7746QyGIlHyhirYlgHjpxqax_Wq1MKF25bqiIkxszTvxFHrpXk6guFQXD_IvG2Iab3c-CjC_7ZdYl2_R5lvqf4845bMBWGJ6wkJRJqKAn2yA3R8UGmaMswPX0AZuVsA1yIkpoQJT_y-MOF/w400-h300/kurok%20hug.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div>Ah, but I do love him. My captain. My king. My god. My Kurok. Perhaps someday he will do me the honor of acknowledging my puny existence.</div><div><br /></div><div>I must go now. Twitter calls. You can find me there @feralboy12. I'll be the guy telling Mike Pence to hang in there and sending dick jokes to Lauren Boebert. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-86458184280256562262022-06-21T13:10:00.000-07:002022-06-21T13:10:18.810-07:00For Serious Bob Ross Fans Only<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh0K0cN22KOdi1La2-yMoWaICBYvtq01J1JYuu0QTNCGcRPausCcYf06VL4zAZMoQ5Ae-Sc2-YF3kWn3yRU0a7Vf_vLbc1yCv8WAozTfXTBjlswgJfaGAh3sFAIpp2jAqMrF0PLuqUHwqP8LbLGcmRKIS9-nP9noZhryh3Vzd07wFt2GPPuU7t8pxr/s619/bobross%20bingo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="619" data-original-width="550" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh0K0cN22KOdi1La2-yMoWaICBYvtq01J1JYuu0QTNCGcRPausCcYf06VL4zAZMoQ5Ae-Sc2-YF3kWn3yRU0a7Vf_vLbc1yCv8WAozTfXTBjlswgJfaGAh3sFAIpp2jAqMrF0PLuqUHwqP8LbLGcmRKIS9-nP9noZhryh3Vzd07wFt2GPPuU7t8pxr/s16000/bobross%20bingo.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>I suppose technically this isn't really a Bingo card, as those creatures are generally 5X5 and have a free space in the middle. Maybe it's actually Score Four we're playing with this, but since it's likely me and three other people that remember anything about Score Four, and I don't remember much (other than it's played at dawn, as a sort of duel) we'll just go with Bingo.</p><p>You do need to be a serious Bob Ross fan to really get anything out of this. And yes, I am a serious Bob Ross fan. While I don't necessarily consider him to have been a great painter, I do consider him a great <i>artist </i>in that I believe his true art was not painting but doing a painting show, the immortal <i>Joy of Painting. </i>For stress reduction, there is nothing better.</p>feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-17433869407163229312022-05-24T19:24:00.000-07:002022-05-24T19:24:06.106-07:00Former Trump Hotel Now Haunted By World’s Dumbest Ghost<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx_V77-dLFE_VT7iRfeFWtOIw8mjVE07ecliJSSnilbGY6kWuK7NYGJLU6NzcwZgeQPBwjQjvKrfRXJ3Te_IMBmZ6nkl0q1TAKzX_rgH3hBQ4KSPEwmU3TF26iMH1vmHPJ3vhCdZtjNWjnMDtWYrrY0HyQWTD5qbrYd1o5CAJzUEAtNce_JaoIgv16/s613/TRUMP%20GHOST.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="418" data-original-width="613" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx_V77-dLFE_VT7iRfeFWtOIw8mjVE07ecliJSSnilbGY6kWuK7NYGJLU6NzcwZgeQPBwjQjvKrfRXJ3Te_IMBmZ6nkl0q1TAKzX_rgH3hBQ4KSPEwmU3TF26iMH1vmHPJ3vhCdZtjNWjnMDtWYrrY0HyQWTD5qbrYd1o5CAJzUEAtNce_JaoIgv16/w400-h272/TRUMP%20GHOST.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><h1><span style="font-size: medium;">July 27, 2042</span></h1><p class="MsoNormal">WASHINGTON, D.C.—It would seem that the Waldorf-Astoria
Hotel here in Washington has a guest who just won’t check out.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">For several years now, guests at the opulent luxury hotel
have been reporting that the upper floors are haunted by a suit-wearing ghost
with really bad hair. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">“He’s so annoying,” said one recent guest. “He never shuts
up, and all he ever talks about is himself.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">The hotel was once owned by the Trump Organization and was
called the Trump Hotel until its sale to CGI Merchant Group and its partner
Hilton Worldwide Holdings in 2022. It was named after Donald J. Trump, the
former U.S. President who died from drinking bleach in 2029.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">While the guests affected by the apparition have many
theories as to who the ghost was before he died, there is one thing they all
agree on.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">“He’s got to be the dumbest ghost on the entire ethereal
plane,” said one man who stayed at the hotel last year. “He keeps ranting about
how he didn’t actually die and that it was all a hoax by Democrats, and that he
will reappear like a miracle any day now.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">“It’s all deep state this, blah blah fake news, something
something great again.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Other guests have noted what seems to be a remarkable lack
of awareness on the part of the disembodied spirit, who has been haunting the
structure for at least a few years.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">“Sometimes he turns like he’s going to leave, and it’s like
he forgets he can go through walls,” said one woman. “He just walks right into the wall with a big
thud.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Another woman noticed an apparent obsession with objects in
the room. “He’ll point at stuff around the room, saying, ‘person, woman, man,
camera, TV,’” she said. “Then he’ll stand there grinning like he expects a
goddamn prize.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Other women have reported attempts to grope them with weird,
stubby little fingers.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">The strange specter does have his defenders, however.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">“He’s the greatest ghost in history,” said one hotel employee,
practically spitting out the words between missing teeth. “He tells the truth
where other ghosts are too afraid.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Most who have seen him, however, are not so enamored of the
lecherous lich. “God, he is tiresome,” said one elderly man. “Fortunately, he
usually leaves when we turn the TV off.”<o:p></o:p></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal">It’s all a mystery, but one thing is certain: the
cretinous creature won’t be going away any time soon.<o:p></o:p></p><p><br /></p>feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-18372993627986929222022-05-16T01:40:00.002-07:002023-06-06T17:22:50.476-07:00They Also Ran Good: George H.W. Bush<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="150" data-original-width="568" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi--zqP1H0M8hNIoAA-kMpmbJIjgwEMrqgx0T6h8TGCnf6rk1pzvOkjy7OFo8MF7ndIEDZQW_Y2TvnXVeisSThkHKatJWxOidNAiMfPBn3oVC0baTWIhuwGwZauhEEb9mTZAFgelMT-nFzpMCt31gIvGX8rb1pwvxr8LI2XIJ0JSGLv6Jdvo6sWQngu/s16000/ghwb%20header.jpg" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoBodyText"><i>This is part nine of my series on losing presidential
candidates that began with Richard Nixon in 1960. This time up we have George
H.W. Bush and his unsuccessful campaign for re-election in 1992. As always, it
is absolutely, positively 100% historically accurate, except for the stuff I
made up. I trust you’ll be able to tell the difference.</i></p><p class="MsoBodyText"><i>The names have not
been changed because these people are politicians and deserve our derision and
scorn.</i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><o:p> </o:p></i><b><span style="font-size: medium;">George Herbert Walker Bush, a Biograph</span></b><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>y</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikfnejtVokPzE_CvlgKy5WnZt1IldUGRzNyfjMJSnWkurJEu4Wj8CliRYcijI4QgX-v059EcuoxSs_EqsKOOL8T0idWfX6SDCgIcQdeCs8tso5TSZaBpsxUsVRMhDW-I2VSexgv60LkhWnQmgqJu1wcLBXpd2UY7Lnq61IMSrMkPdxAUqqwKMsxW3Z/s275/bush%203.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="275" data-original-width="206" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikfnejtVokPzE_CvlgKy5WnZt1IldUGRzNyfjMJSnWkurJEu4Wj8CliRYcijI4QgX-v059EcuoxSs_EqsKOOL8T0idWfX6SDCgIcQdeCs8tso5TSZaBpsxUsVRMhDW-I2VSexgv60LkhWnQmgqJu1wcLBXpd2UY7Lnq61IMSrMkPdxAUqqwKMsxW3Z/s1600/bush%203.png" width="206" /></a></b></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">George Herbert Walker Bush was born on June 12, 1924 in
Milton, Massachusetts. He was the second son of Prescott Sheldon Bush, a
wealthy investment banker and a U.S. Senator representing the state of
Connecticut. Young George was raised in Greenwich, Connecticut, which
sharp-eyed readers will recognize as the source of all standardized
intelligence tests and the reason why those tests always contain word problems
that begin with “Teddy leaves Sag Harbor on the brunchtime jitney...”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The Bush family also had a vacation home in Kennebunkport,
Maine, and his grandparents owned a plantation in South Carolina.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">You may think all of this portends a life of wealth,
privilege, and insufferable douchebaggery, but you would be wrong. In those
days, douchebaggery was actually called “foppishness” and there were special
schools to develop and refine it.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Bush served as a naval aviator in World War II, during which
he won the Distinguished Flying Cross for being shot down, bailing out, and
being rescued rather than being captured, executed and having his liver eaten
by his captors, as happened with some of his fellow aviators during the same
doomed attack. This, as so often happens, convinced young George that God had
some plan in mind for him. The Promethean plan God apparently had for his
comrades remains one of those unknowable yet profound mysteries that surround
the Christian deity.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After his service,
Bush attended Yale University, where he was a fratboy, baseball player, and
cheerleader. He was also initiated into the Skull and Crossbones secret
society, where he first became one of the Lizard People [citation needed]. He
graduated in 1948 with a Bachelor of Arts degree in economics.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Bush then moved to Texas, where he got involved in politics.
He was defeated in a campaign for U.S. Senate in 1964, and two years later was
elected to the U.S. House of Representatives. In 1970 he was again defeated in
a Senate race.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Bush was appointed by Richard Nixon as U.S. Ambassador to
the United Nations in 1971 and as Chairman of the Republican National Committee
in 1973. He also served as Director of the CIA from 1976-1977.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This resume, which is, like, totally honorable and
everything, set up a presidential run in 1980, which led to being chosen as
Ronald Reagan’s running mate in the general election that year. Bush served as
vice-president until defeating Michael
Dukakis in the 1988 presidential election.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Bush As President</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">George H.W. Bush moved into the White House in 1989, and for
the first three years of his presidency, things appeared to go fairly
swimmingly. In that first year, all the communist governments in Eastern Europe
collapsed, and the 40-year Cold War with the Soviet Union came to an end. The
Soviet Union dissolved into 15 states at the end of 1991.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Also in 1991, Bush led the United States into the Gulf War
with Iraq, after its leader Saddam Hussein attempted to conquer neighboring
Kuwait. The American forces were successful in evicting Iraqi troops in a
matter of weeks. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Though largely a symbolic gesture, Bush also left a mark in
the realm of foreign policy by throwing up in the lap of Japanese Prime
Minister Kiichi Miyazawa in 1992.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqrRaatvEehy0Svj-asXGVkS85g6p1JU1xxL9J08oW4E1aQvwli8Dj3B7c-sqqsabquVfJ87tvp6RMQPqSXzgyxq78mz93IZfVFDkwKl69vLIjwtDQDLvNB9pFcejm8AfB-sAks5GClEbDGY5orJB4Z4Bld4O1uButulptb1Y21WiYLIvEdOrILYs-/s585/throws%20up.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="394" data-original-width="585" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqrRaatvEehy0Svj-asXGVkS85g6p1JU1xxL9J08oW4E1aQvwli8Dj3B7c-sqqsabquVfJ87tvp6RMQPqSXzgyxq78mz93IZfVFDkwKl69vLIjwtDQDLvNB9pFcejm8AfB-sAks5GClEbDGY5orJB4Z4Bld4O1uButulptb1Y21WiYLIvEdOrILYs-/w400-h270/throws%20up.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Normally, he'd use the "Oval Office" for that.</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">As the war came to a close, Bush’s approval rating was
sitting at a stratospheric 90%.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So exactly how, just a year and a half later, did Bush lose
an election to a fat, lecherous hillbilly?</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Enter Bill Clinton</span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>William Jefferson Clinton, born and raised in Arkansas, was
a Rhodes Scholar at Oxford and graduated from Yale Law School. He was elected
state’s Attorney General in Arkansas and served two non-consecutive terms as
the state’s governor.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtobf72wOE4bzza0uRHtID_EV8wyfSDQse6EFY8vqwHcj8Nlco3D4xU0DhynNTHnXGYKvBcVZHXMG41Kt21k6in6HNeO_N5mogYaQZPmEySeptMvTInrJjPlXZnaCiXa6_j2mH_dxeCo34Mqg_9ghc7x17ged6OjjnPELumKHQ_r0sdQHMjf81UjuJ/s736/clinton%201.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="419" data-original-width="736" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtobf72wOE4bzza0uRHtID_EV8wyfSDQse6EFY8vqwHcj8Nlco3D4xU0DhynNTHnXGYKvBcVZHXMG41Kt21k6in6HNeO_N5mogYaQZPmEySeptMvTInrJjPlXZnaCiXa6_j2mH_dxeCo34Mqg_9ghc7x17ged6OjjnPELumKHQ_r0sdQHMjf81UjuJ/w400-h228/clinton%201.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The hillbilly Grover Cleveland, as it were.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></b>By 1987, Clinton was something of a rising star and there
was speculation that he would run for president in 1988. Two frontrunners, New
York Governor Mario Cuomo and Colorado Philanderer Gary Hart, both dropped out.
Despite the opening, Clinton also decided to forego the race and remain
governor. He did give the opening night address at the Democratic convention;
it went on for 33 minutes, showing both Clinton’s deep understanding of
economic policy, as well as his uncanny ability to keep talking after everyone
has left the room.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This, after Bush’s defeat of Dukakis in November, set up
Clinton to challenge for the Democratic nomination for President four years
later.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Also, he was married to one Hillary Rodham Clinton, whom
you’ve probably heard of.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><b><span style="font-size: medium;">The Bush Campaign
Begins</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Again, Bush seemed to be in terrific shape going into 1992.
There were some darker clouds on the horizon, however: the economy was stagnant
and unemployment had risen from 5.9 to 7.8%. The federal deficit had increased
considerably and was a matter of growing concern to Americans. Bush had also
reneged on his 1988 pledge not to raise taxes, having insisted at the time that
he would say to congress, “read my lips; no new taxes” if they suggested doing
so.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi78MfxY3INvjfnqT76ur4sRdTOf96GGe79iTg7aqRrUHb7X8ezUAb8VzqiQTTlWOWaJg33ypw2FnO2D09NuBxEj7Ea33vWMU_QovQ9uQQHxJG_obAjHLHVvMa3g_xhqDKjrBgwBte390U3Sl7Fq7Fr_9SkYBAkrVs75KoJa1ujUjRwGKNFSIu64Brj/s548/bush%201.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="419" data-original-width="548" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi78MfxY3INvjfnqT76ur4sRdTOf96GGe79iTg7aqRrUHb7X8ezUAb8VzqiQTTlWOWaJg33ypw2FnO2D09NuBxEj7Ea33vWMU_QovQ9uQQHxJG_obAjHLHVvMa3g_xhqDKjrBgwBte390U3Sl7Fq7Fr_9SkYBAkrVs75KoJa1ujUjRwGKNFSIu64Brj/s320/bush%201.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In fact, the man had no lips.</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">The budget deal Bush agreed to was regarded as a betrayal by
the more ultra-conservative members of the party, and resulted in the candidacy
for the Republican nomination of one Pat Buchanon, a columnist and commentator
who served as an assistant to Richard Nixon, Gerald Ford, and Ronald Reagan. Buchanon was able to score over 20%
in the first primary in New Hampshire, and while Bush did win all the
primaries, it’s never a good look for an incumbent president to have to work
for his re-nomination. Although he scored points on both domestic and foreign
policy, in the end Buchanon was done in by his lack of experience in office,
lesser name recognition, and horrible personality.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9edvNH771Q3WtNB3I6V9iCsC_DT5ISWIS8fAlPsaA44mSlun5JT0RLNB7WThZFHL6bkN5wU2oqNrCecpLPzYhN7Brlq2aicnFh4iQ_-DzuRGH26zTKelMmT3wtNO_JJCLyBHNhv9I8QGPXg5GksrEs2v0wPurKghIoHDAbfSKdwiWQAMyqcMXDijG/s521/buchanon.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="422" data-original-width="521" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9edvNH771Q3WtNB3I6V9iCsC_DT5ISWIS8fAlPsaA44mSlun5JT0RLNB7WThZFHL6bkN5wU2oqNrCecpLPzYhN7Brlq2aicnFh4iQ_-DzuRGH26zTKelMmT3wtNO_JJCLyBHNhv9I8QGPXg5GksrEs2v0wPurKghIoHDAbfSKdwiWQAMyqcMXDijG/s320/buchanon.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yup.</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><o:p> </o:p><span style="font-size: large;">Meanwhile, The Clinton Campaign Gets Off To a Roaring Start</span></b></p><h2><o:p></o:p></h2>
<p class="MsoNormal">The early days of Bill Clinton’s run for the White House
were marred by three scandals: an affair with a woman named Gennifer Flowers,
an admission that he had tried marijuana as a young man, and accusations that
he had dodged the draft during the Vietnam War.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">To address the first question, Clinton’s affair and his
general reputation for philandering, he appeared on the national TV show <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">60 Minutes </i>in prime time with his wife,
Hillary.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And most of the nation got its first look at Hillary
Clinton.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuB1GpeFCAJxHlyVCzBGh9_kfBD-hgULYiVuO5RQ0RONlptKelZiNZnGu4i_p_7RfrNKPl0zvPecJx_cGZuldIpbdCsq5nxBsRy4uS0JWZdTTCNM5DMgicUgCAt8Eo0ZlBAJu5O6lJGGe-RBxGu7chkLwhBWrYnbNYYjMvarjgpvy7lWmzhJLuyIMM/s566/hillary.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="566" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuB1GpeFCAJxHlyVCzBGh9_kfBD-hgULYiVuO5RQ0RONlptKelZiNZnGu4i_p_7RfrNKPl0zvPecJx_cGZuldIpbdCsq5nxBsRy4uS0JWZdTTCNM5DMgicUgCAt8Eo0ZlBAJu5O6lJGGe-RBxGu7chkLwhBWrYnbNYYjMvarjgpvy7lWmzhJLuyIMM/w400-h301/hillary.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You may know her as the first woman to accidentally<br />email the presidency to a cartoon billionaire.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The Clintons insisted that Bill’s canoodling was a private
affair that they were dealing with in private, that they needed this privacy to
air out these private matters, and the public should not concern itself with
Bill’s privates. Also clear was the fact that Hillary was not a weak and
submissive spouse, but an intelligent, educated and professionally accomplished
woman.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I’m not some little Tammy Wynette standing by her man,”
said the blonde woman sitting next to her unfaithful husband. And democratic
voters seemed satisfied enough; it never came up again (cough).<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Clinton was able to set the marijuana question to rest by
explaining that it happened only one time, and in fact he “didn’t inhale.” This
made perfect sense and America totally believed him (COUGH).</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij34xo3Jir8Djda1Mq_vZObF3OLsFSUtWkOZN_LL4F2L8kxDA1-FfkTaAQhNBgx_YIem3mPQnM9Wzg2AA6YeTPw5VxwH97vZYLnoGEYshT5JlaT1-afTYQ4z0NNeE_zim17Kqe5G6yyb95ruLjn7mN3-xOvY-H9NUtiZlLauOHzlOZ4pAWYfweiySe/s613/clinton%202.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="423" data-original-width="613" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij34xo3Jir8Djda1Mq_vZObF3OLsFSUtWkOZN_LL4F2L8kxDA1-FfkTaAQhNBgx_YIem3mPQnM9Wzg2AA6YeTPw5VxwH97vZYLnoGEYshT5JlaT1-afTYQ4z0NNeE_zim17Kqe5G6yyb95ruLjn7mN3-xOvY-H9NUtiZlLauOHzlOZ4pAWYfweiySe/w400-h276/clinton%202.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We totally believed him.</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">As for the draft-dodging accusation, the nation came to
realize that it wasn’t an issue after hearing Clinton’s explanation that it wasn’t
an issue.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">After finishing third in the Iowa caucus and second in the
New Hampshire primary, Clinton dubbed himself “the Comeback Kid,” which totally
made sense (cough), and headed south for more primaries. This, of course, was
his home turf and he was able to win delegates, gain momentum, and win the
nomination. For his running mate, Clinton moved to offset his own reputation
for constant personal drama by choosing Al Gore, a man so boring his Secret
Service code name was “Al Gore.”</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC_S49K4wEopok0c_iOJomMWPdROcN8I0o_8-t4UUZPJEiNpFHfBo0MX0U-jqaazrs5DF2z9rRY17_PVXn7QpMCXgUyz_xOcTh_hA956YfQ5B2iT8ED_6b82QjQ2vy5fiV2mvcccsEleRC2TR7r1Qk_vL4AgGPC8L8uMDWCd4eq75fjey5--JBbK77/s236/algore.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="236" data-original-width="162" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC_S49K4wEopok0c_iOJomMWPdROcN8I0o_8-t4UUZPJEiNpFHfBo0MX0U-jqaazrs5DF2z9rRY17_PVXn7QpMCXgUyz_xOcTh_hA956YfQ5B2iT8ED_6b82QjQ2vy5fiV2mvcccsEleRC2TR7r1Qk_vL4AgGPC8L8uMDWCd4eq75fjey5--JBbK77/w275-h400/algore.png" width="275" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Al Gore.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And the race was on, Bush vs. Clinton in a battle for the
White House. And—wait a minute--</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p><b>Who Is This Guy With
The Ears?</b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Concerns over the budget deficit led some to believe that
perhaps the government should be run like a business, and that possibly the
best person to do that would be a billionaire businessman. This is an idea that
persists to this day, an idea that it was thought could break the cycle of
deficit spending, and an idea centered on reducing wastefulness and increasing
efficiency in government. It’s also a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">bad
</i>idea, as we’ve seen, but that’s a topic for another post.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But this idea paved the way for the emergence of one Henry
Ross Perot, Texas tycoon, and his entry into the 1992 campaign as an
independent candidate.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Ross Perot entered the race, making a balanced budget and an
end to the outsourcing of American jobs overseas central to his platform. He
was also in favor of a direct, electronic democracy, and the fact that he made
his billions in the field of data systems used by governments was obviously
some sort of wild coincidence.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9vTTd7w8UQ9kxE6LcX4qlYHam8cS1-6lV1e4s-eIqDplDUcBdydTvNpgA2ErUDpZcAwJF2iqsPTda9WIRRBNrOBxWGJMKEmLQws40HN7EswVxasFrHleHHUeyj0wBbzLvbrC6r4h1OzFXB2tzgwE3iJxi8v5mcmm8cBoX7HAt3pwTf9OpCFjBrEZc/s411/perot%202.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="411" data-original-width="411" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9vTTd7w8UQ9kxE6LcX4qlYHam8cS1-6lV1e4s-eIqDplDUcBdydTvNpgA2ErUDpZcAwJF2iqsPTda9WIRRBNrOBxWGJMKEmLQws40HN7EswVxasFrHleHHUeyj0wBbzLvbrC6r4h1OzFXB2tzgwE3iJxi8v5mcmm8cBoX7HAt3pwTf9OpCFjBrEZc/s320/perot%202.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I know, right?</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For his running mate, Perot chose James Stockdale, a vice
admiral in the U.S. Navy, an aviator, and veteran of the Vietnam War in which
he won the Medal of Honor and was a prisoner of war for seven years.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And now, finally, we’re off.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><o:p> </o:p>Debates, I Guess
You’d Call Them</b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">By 1992 the setpiece battle of any presidential campaign was
the debate, or in this case, debates. There would be both presidential and
vice-presidential debates, and they would both be three-way affairs.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The presidential debates are mostly remembered for George
Bush looking at his watch like he had somewhere better to be. Clinton, for his
part, showed his economic policy expertise, as well as his gift for relatable
metaphors. He compared the American economy to Elvis; once lean and trim and
adventurous, it had grown bloated and fat and was in danger of falling right
off the toilet.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sorry. I made that up.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Perot sold himself as a man willing to listen to others and
solve problems, telling the audience, “if anyone has a better idea, I’m all
ears.”</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiq6snxUGyEDCoP1rKt4zvJ-7N4CkYAYYG00UUuy3PSWA0uvdX6mm5A9mMEBqGQkZCjPer9wgFdwNiq_KZw6SUH_xnvhpxq3BJwV60X9SfTfBFi453PMv-61OvCHuww5AWI4h-6QcKseLZ2vJ7LRHijbSUzwepEt2OdV6iaFOXPkL-ZXkY2hcCFmy_/s621/perot.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="422" data-original-width="621" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiq6snxUGyEDCoP1rKt4zvJ-7N4CkYAYYG00UUuy3PSWA0uvdX6mm5A9mMEBqGQkZCjPer9wgFdwNiq_KZw6SUH_xnvhpxq3BJwV60X9SfTfBFi453PMv-61OvCHuww5AWI4h-6QcKseLZ2vJ7LRHijbSUzwepEt2OdV6iaFOXPkL-ZXkY2hcCFmy_/w400-h271/perot.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I didn't make that up.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The vice-presidential debates are mostly remembered for the
nation’s introduction to Stockdale, who appeared elderly and clearly out of his
element, as well as deaf and possibly fermented. His first words to the country
as candidate for the second highest office in the land were “Who am I? What am
I doing here?” This took some of the sizzle out of Perot’s campaign.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p>What Went So Horribly, Horribly Wrong</span></b></p><h2><o:p></o:p></h2>
<p class="MsoNormal">For Bush, Perot’s candidacy was problematic from the start.
Although he faltered after a strong start and wound up winning 18.9% of the
vote (after leading in the polls with 39% in June) and winning no states (thus
garnering no electoral votes), he may well have pulled more votes away from
Bush than from Clinton.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Bush also came off as generally out of touch with the voters
of America, unaware of and unable to relate to their financial struggles. He
showed amazement upon seeing a supermarket checkout scanner at work, leading
Americans to believe he was insulated from regular daily life. Also, he looked
at his watch during the debate.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">On such weighty issues, Americans make their decisions.
Clinton surged ahead.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Election Night</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXshefGC0Caue1vZW94qYZcWbBjIRznAe4i216arwpW0RJPiHoGogs45qI5BFoOajGMTiZgoq7zxnsBp9eH4pva0YgFavAR7oyBPENaUH_Co5JwFWNeQmYyajpZ654rxzpM2klmbgAJMHBSuaAxMa8Jx1aWaEEMMB9Gyc1qWqfQN9lW97GJ6lwndAX/s565/map.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="368" data-original-width="565" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXshefGC0Caue1vZW94qYZcWbBjIRznAe4i216arwpW0RJPiHoGogs45qI5BFoOajGMTiZgoq7zxnsBp9eH4pva0YgFavAR7oyBPENaUH_Co5JwFWNeQmYyajpZ654rxzpM2klmbgAJMHBSuaAxMa8Jx1aWaEEMMB9Gyc1qWqfQN9lW97GJ6lwndAX/w400-h260/map.png" width="400" /></a></b></div><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br /></b><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>In the end, Clinton won 43.0% of the popular vote, coming
out ahead in 32 states and in the District of Columbia, for a total of 370
electoral votes. Bush won 37.4%, 18 states and 168 electoral votes. The first
Democratic president in over a decade, Clinton won by taking the populous,
nominally democratic states like New York, Massachusetts and California,
northern industrial states Ohio, Pennsylvania and Illinois, and also making
inroads into the south, his home region, which had been mostly held by
Republicans since Nixon’s “southern strategy” began to bear fruit in 1968
(Jimmy Carter, a native of Georgia, winning in 1976 being the exception).</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The Aftermath</span><o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">George H.W. Bush, 41<sup>st</sup> President of the United
States, retired to a home in Houston, Texas. Eventually his sons George and Jeb
ventured into politics; George W. Bush was elected president in 2000 over Al
Gore as the Bushes became the second father and son presidents in U.S. history.
The elder George Bush died in 2018 at the age of 94.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Bill Clinton served two terms, nominated two Supreme Court
justices, was impeached once, and for sure never inhaled (COUGH).<o:p></o:p></p><br /></div>feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-15409811088647409302022-05-01T16:30:00.000-07:002022-05-01T16:30:36.610-07:00The Game Of Life<p>This is something of a deviation from my usual silliness, but I've long been
fascinated by this stuff.</p>
<p>This little mathematical game, in its original form,
was called <i>The Game Of Life.</i> Not to be confused with the Hasbro board
game, it was invented in 1970 by a British mathematician named John Conway. It
demonstrates how a simple set of purely local rules can lead to a complex world featuring an
assortment of events and changing patterns that are not explicitly written into
those rules. This phenomenon is often called <i>emergence.</i></p>
<p>Each cell is surrounded by eight neighbors, and can be either on or off. From a
starting configuration of ON cells, the game then proceeds step by step with
cells either remaining in the on or off state, or changing from one to the
other, depending on the state of its neighbors in the preceeding step.</p>
<p>The rules: if a cell has exactly two neighbors that are ON, it remains in its
current state. On stays on, and off stays off. If a cell has three neighbors on,
it stays on if it's already on, and turns on if it is off. If the cell has zero,
one, or four or more neighbors on, it will be off the next step. Eventually, the
grid will (as far as I've determined) reach a state where there is no further
change, or a state that repeats itself in periodic fashion. There is no way to
predict what is going to happen other than letting the game play out. Again, the
larger patterns that result are not explicitly written into the rules, yet the
system is entirely deterministic (each step is determined by the step before).</p>
<p>The original version was designed for an infinite grid. My computer,
unfortunately, doesn't do infinite; I used a grid of 63 X 38.</p>
<p> Oh, and this was done on Excel 97, using screen capture and stop-motion software.</p>
<iframe
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feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-70528182236324316982022-03-16T08:27:00.000-07:002022-03-16T08:27:43.025-07:00I Am Welcome To Attend!Yup.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgNGS2UFOgjPGXkWj9gYmqLhgmwhDioIpeJBcTkGTGV297imbL0vktFXKzGYHUTOP67RCV5AkcL7JcLRCzD_geMeN8CLa-vtVwDZHW-8Cw8jMVKiCoDNvCQ_cqdC1_mU0MHQFB3CRsayNUATo3DPenYINXx4zSkn9-ZzhUjc4ogTCZLKucbsYex9D9k=s1911" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="1911" data-original-width="1318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgNGS2UFOgjPGXkWj9gYmqLhgmwhDioIpeJBcTkGTGV297imbL0vktFXKzGYHUTOP67RCV5AkcL7JcLRCzD_geMeN8CLa-vtVwDZHW-8Cw8jMVKiCoDNvCQ_cqdC1_mU0MHQFB3CRsayNUATo3DPenYINXx4zSkn9-ZzhUjc4ogTCZLKucbsYex9D9k=s320"/></a></div>
Well...you <i>say</i> that.
Actually, you probably don't want me attending your little gathering. I might ask unpleasant questions. First of all, where the hell did you get my freaking name and address from?
And secondly... who the hell <i>is</i> that?
It took me a minute or two to realize--that's Jesus? Really?
Or maybe it's...actor James Brolin?
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg812YDf8V6sLGV4sEHxXBb3Yy0sVNhIGF88QGPrtrA25-zNWOYPJkQDVZ7muiMgG3zybm9z4e_I0no1yADfy9wfOEjpkrHcd5D6vDHBv-kk_PYnVaB88znq8sENcCRMQDFA08oZxjy9HDJ_WSkbqhR4vSUSCcuNmsokG3VFw1f_yGwEZcjh6YVqU85=s436" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="436" data-original-width="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg812YDf8V6sLGV4sEHxXBb3Yy0sVNhIGF88QGPrtrA25-zNWOYPJkQDVZ7muiMgG3zybm9z4e_I0no1yADfy9wfOEjpkrHcd5D6vDHBv-kk_PYnVaB88znq8sENcCRMQDFA08oZxjy9HDJ_WSkbqhR4vSUSCcuNmsokG3VFw1f_yGwEZcjh6YVqU85=s320"/></a></div>
As was once said regarding a painting of George Washington, "it may not be what he looked like then...but it's what he looked like now."
feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-5142234676214597982022-03-04T20:56:00.001-08:002022-03-04T22:21:39.506-08:00NCIS: Easter Island<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgo5B_dpyY-jZ96m38tWuXOx3_ihIFftnDe3xRkC2GpVeP3RDoTcR9VbJqgwBSLlWVuGHQVdZWWnuRtihYQMVZNN26j6IV5FqB8k52KxAZ-rrYCYKoRByfM6SPh9esPPgNST4bVmmRmVhYp3hYrRXQZHd_r_cKhMB5O0qRNedObQAuEMNFXHY4U9_0F=s676" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="346" data-original-width="676" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgo5B_dpyY-jZ96m38tWuXOx3_ihIFftnDe3xRkC2GpVeP3RDoTcR9VbJqgwBSLlWVuGHQVdZWWnuRtihYQMVZNN26j6IV5FqB8k52KxAZ-rrYCYKoRByfM6SPh9esPPgNST4bVmmRmVhYp3hYrRXQZHd_r_cKhMB5O0qRNedObQAuEMNFXHY4U9_0F=w498-h255" width="498" /></a></div>feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-80736799649362478962018-04-05T12:15:00.000-07:002018-04-05T12:15:05.513-07:00I Have Another Suggestion<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVLc5Le-9kI-X6PCjpvdZuva7aBgLmXm-OxoJbUTN0-5ipYNTe9vMARPlgPCOxSXI7QKXKC59Dej9OXFMNX96eybhXPlZqeU57QzJ393qrJiJthHxuCT-R5FXhRPmcItyo5WFNC3ZPSMI/s1600/welcome+to+america.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="390" data-original-width="520" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVLc5Le-9kI-X6PCjpvdZuva7aBgLmXm-OxoJbUTN0-5ipYNTe9vMARPlgPCOxSXI7QKXKC59Dej9OXFMNX96eybhXPlZqeU57QzJ393qrJiJthHxuCT-R5FXhRPmcItyo5WFNC3ZPSMI/s1600/welcome+to+america.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
I'm thinking if we put up billboards like this along our foreign borders they might serve as a better deterrent than a wall.<br />
I briefly considered allowing for three digit numbers, but who would we be kidding?feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-69491234751279644412018-02-01T12:24:00.000-08:002018-02-01T12:24:05.260-08:00I Have a SuggestionWith regards to the controversy in recent years involving what to do with all those old Confederate statues in the southern United States: I understand the feelings of the many people, especially those of color, who are offended by a culture that would celebrate what was essentially a war effort to retain the practice of racial slavery in those states. I also understand the desire of others to preserve history, a fairly unique history at that. Though I must say in this case it seems a little weird for a bunch of red states, dominated by Republican officeholders who like to make a big show of their patriotism, to celebrate an attempt to secede from the American union. And I'm concerned about the cost and effort required to remove, transport, and store these statues.<br />
So I hereby offer my solution: leave the statues in place, but increase the efforts to educate the population about their historical significance. This should satisfy those who want to leave the statues in place, but could also render them less threatening as symbols of a racist, oppressive culture to those who want them removed. Attach a simple plaque to each statue:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrSt_B-ajMPy0mf0-ZuliGh3WfR1SXu6u5V2bExjHIF6J5GU6FN7C4sI4Q1DDP4Qvh4RD0LTRIr9spUnD08Qp5oZZdjEvL_mZJa8ejvNFEAo5JBPfAa0yZRr4AQFI_b3cT04cjeMIQfTY/s1600/ROBERTELEE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="259" data-original-width="460" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrSt_B-ajMPy0mf0-ZuliGh3WfR1SXu6u5V2bExjHIF6J5GU6FN7C4sI4Q1DDP4Qvh4RD0LTRIr9spUnD08Qp5oZZdjEvL_mZJa8ejvNFEAo5JBPfAa0yZRr4AQFI_b3cT04cjeMIQfTY/s1600/ROBERTELEE.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-53506461310325961592017-04-26T13:58:00.001-07:002017-04-26T14:01:08.412-07:00My Solution To EverythingI've mentioned in this space before that I am currently making my living conducting surveys by telephone, most of them political in nature. I will not divulge the name of the company I work for, nor the names of any of the people I speak with, the outfits that fund the work, nor even the states we've been calling. Or, for that matter, the silly phony name that I use in my professional setting. But no one has told me that I can't otherwise blog occasionally about the experience, and share a few of the more moronic quotes I am given.<br />
<br />
And I get plenty of those--this most stupid of political cycles has given me plenty of meat for the grinder.<br />
<br />
You may wonder how I, with my strong left-leaning opinions, can get through conversation after conversation with people who voted for our current fearless leader--whom I have chosen to call "Trumpelthinskin" for the time being--without entirely losing my shit and telling these idiots exactly how well-thought-out I think their ideas are. The secret, actually, is not to think about what any of it means, to let all those boneheaded comments pass in one ear and fly out the other without doing violence to the delicate gray matter in between. Fortunately, with much of our time being spent waiting for someone to answer their phone and agree to take the survey, we are allowed what we call <i>distractions, </i>small hand-held devices like books and smartphones.<br />
<br />
I don't have a smartphone, and attempting to read a book usually results in repeated perusal of the same paragraph. And what is needed is something creative, something beautiful, something symmetrical and colorful.<br />
<br />
I'm reminded of something Jim Bouton wrote long ago in his baseball diary/best-selling book <i>Ball Four, </i>about pitching in Seattle in 1969 in a ballpark whose name I have forgotten. He threw a knuckleball back then, a pitch known for unpredictability in flight and often for being undependable in its effectiveness. This often resulted in the ball becoming known for flying off the bat of the hitter and tracing an arc over the outfield wall, a phenomenon known as the home run.<br />
<br />
But, as Bouton wrote, following the ball's trajectory would result in a lovely view of Mt. Rainier, and, as he put it, "some of the bad feeling would go away."<br />
<br />
We have no mountains in view where I work, and I can't bring one with me, so I reached back into my childhood for the solution. And what is my solution to the bad feelings I get when people spout their idiocy at me, insist on "facts" that are transparent bullshit, and leave me despairing for the future of my country?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp8VyF0-oV5N6bj-OrWV_cALA4YTfSQlb7B-KyY4dCKx4qERPVq28ifVE1o4CEUQefQiyvBXtbWH5cj-BbwX3oHp7odSKtQgWEOsBxeMAX0uWYso-uJkWuM8UYj-Q7m0nCPcberLB0cmE/s1600/spirograph+8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp8VyF0-oV5N6bj-OrWV_cALA4YTfSQlb7B-KyY4dCKx4qERPVq28ifVE1o4CEUQefQiyvBXtbWH5cj-BbwX3oHp7odSKtQgWEOsBxeMAX0uWYso-uJkWuM8UYj-Q7m0nCPcberLB0cmE/s320/spirograph+8.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
None other than Spirograph. Color, beauty, symmetry, and visual manifestation of several mathematical principles does wonders for my mood and, by extension, my ability to retain my professional, neutral demeanor.<br />
<br />
So when somebody tells me that Barack Obama lost the popular vote in 2012, a Republican myth that Trumpelthinskin boosted with one of his idiot tweets on election night that year, I note the comment while remaining entirely focused on my latest Spirograph creation, and I swear, some of that bad feeling goes away.<br />
<br />
It works.<br />
<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>"I think a man should run the country. Women are too emotional."</b></blockquote>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf-AuHYTBtmn4NWMHavfb-sYWkhDR9JFcRyquw7L8tzZQ6oihE_qZgDdx3CW7_BO_wKwCHYdnF-15PMSe0dRpBk7OCS4FHpO7-T8KD7fhDSKfFreb80JCGkbnlc960GCuNWN00205g0Eg/s1600/spirograph+10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf-AuHYTBtmn4NWMHavfb-sYWkhDR9JFcRyquw7L8tzZQ6oihE_qZgDdx3CW7_BO_wKwCHYdnF-15PMSe0dRpBk7OCS4FHpO7-T8KD7fhDSKfFreb80JCGkbnlc960GCuNWN00205g0Eg/s320/spirograph+10.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And the bad feeling goes away.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>"Hillary Clinton should get the electric chair!"</b></blockquote>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHjTyiU1l540eu1sgVozngTw0r6bEVhQt1srA9f4sIAmtgHBWakkaw2HcYkH3oAfNibs9KEodiErr9fJdXB-iVvmeSe6L2C3rVFcdoj5JcykhjFk2-G-A8E9fL3omD7zMO8NTkd4XbzC0/s1600/spirograph+31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHjTyiU1l540eu1sgVozngTw0r6bEVhQt1srA9f4sIAmtgHBWakkaw2HcYkH3oAfNibs9KEodiErr9fJdXB-iVvmeSe6L2C3rVFcdoj5JcykhjFk2-G-A8E9fL3omD7zMO8NTkd4XbzC0/s320/spirograph+31.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And the bad feeling <i>goes away.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>"I'm tired of land being taken from America and put into parks."</b></blockquote>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz-L5B5pqh1zpYGEL0hHV3xrgf0vizlBJb9rDAOF0KPLrHxD3AgUMIWpmobtlzkHmkIXaLCOzi7bUzRLGpFa4qNHAsLMTuO0VAh0SNAueFKwnbi_p3ZMppP8lD2de0ylxlqlqdKmXw6ww/s1600/spirograph+30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz-L5B5pqh1zpYGEL0hHV3xrgf0vizlBJb9rDAOF0KPLrHxD3AgUMIWpmobtlzkHmkIXaLCOzi7bUzRLGpFa4qNHAsLMTuO0VAh0SNAueFKwnbi_p3ZMppP8lD2de0ylxlqlqdKmXw6ww/s320/spirograph+30.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And the bad feeling GOES AWAY.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>"Obamacare killed my wife. She got sick and I took her to the hospital. They had a bunch of foreign doctors that filled her up with liquids, and she died. Obamacare killed my wife."</b></blockquote>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Z1tVeMAZV9Gc6Ymoy-byvj7WlRWPgnk-0cSW9NUqqlAaL_soUkK0eM4M-6qNWnl5lMlyVeVH4kEAxwy9Ff9P4fbz95Zk9mEqpjkSgB_Vp1xmRFiTucyhfrONBzXl0GSMXFkog7U4eFA/s1600/spirograph+27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Z1tVeMAZV9Gc6Ymoy-byvj7WlRWPgnk-0cSW9NUqqlAaL_soUkK0eM4M-6qNWnl5lMlyVeVH4kEAxwy9Ff9P4fbz95Zk9mEqpjkSgB_Vp1xmRFiTucyhfrONBzXl0GSMXFkog7U4eFA/s320/spirograph+27.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And the bad feeling <b>GOES AWAY.</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
I do love my Spirograph. Until someone invents a more interactive phone system, one that allows me to wring the necks of my respondents, this will do. Bring it on, America. <i>I can make the bad feeling go away. </i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw5v_I709lcdO-Al8lgEAnNuAVJOj3zq8exj8R5TDFKZHbfJ9gqn4mVnoU8V8yyKmpQZ9TkSyQZeGWGadq5Oi_t_ngUtjqh3ar7mk8vmA4l4sk8P10x4z2ebYuN83rrCzDh8s6k3Q0vdc/s1600/spirograph+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw5v_I709lcdO-Al8lgEAnNuAVJOj3zq8exj8R5TDFKZHbfJ9gqn4mVnoU8V8yyKmpQZ9TkSyQZeGWGadq5Oi_t_ngUtjqh3ar7mk8vmA4l4sk8P10x4z2ebYuN83rrCzDh8s6k3Q0vdc/s320/spirograph+6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-13125365375285974792017-01-19T13:04:00.000-08:002017-01-19T13:04:49.540-08:00The Last 25 Years—What a Long, Strange Trip It’s Been In Some Weird Parallel Universe<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="Table Grid"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Revision"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" QFormat="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" QFormat="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" QFormat="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" QFormat="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" QFormat="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="41" Name="Plain Table 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="42" Name="Plain Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="43" Name="Plain Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="44" Name="Plain Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="45" Name="Plain Table 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="40" Name="Grid Table Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="Grid Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 3"/>
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<br />
<div class="MsoBodyText">
<i>[It has dawned on me recently that I don’t much like
anything that has happened in the last 25 years. America, as you know, is a
very stupid country. It often means well, but like many a lucky, spoiled,
entitled<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>trust fund kid, it makes bad
decisions and doesn’t give a shit. But elementary chaos theory tells us two
things about history: it is highly contingent and it things could have turned
out even dumber, by orders of magnitude. So here is an alternate history of the
United States of America, completely made up from whole cloth by me. But with
an infinite number of universes in parallel existence, this one must exist
somewhere. The story begins with a 1992 election roughly as ridiculous as the
one that just happed in our “real” timeline in 2016. That was my jumping-off
point. So, Geronimo.]</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The America of 1992 was a very different place than it had
been 20 or even ten years earlier. The Cold War may have been over, but with
the U.S. Government putting up record deficits year after year, trade deficits
getting steadily worse, most Americans were fed up with business as usual in
Washington, D.C. and wanted to send a new president to the capitol who would
shake things up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There was a strong feeling that the only way to make America
great again was to completely revamp the approach to governing—perhaps if the
government was run more like a basketball team, things could be turned around.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At first, Bobby Knight’s presidential campaign seemed like a
joke, but his no-holds-barred style soon caught on and carried him to the
Republican nomination. The selection of running mate Dick Cheney provided a
salve for the wounded Republican old guard, but more importantly, provided Knight
with a prospective partner for his frequent hunting trips. The two then
proceeded to run a tight, organized campaign that focused almost exclusively on
the economy, hammering home the same simple message over and over again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvqYBWnIEaa0jgzMiv0B2JrxijyOheUq6nSK75chyphenhyphenhBfF_XB-9y2FE1BPRqKQE32WEn0fP73NdIvjhg0trlh94EUVFs8n22TVflOv6yyJ5PIQfIX61k1tSudepd7GnDgq481Kc6YuzCwk/s1600/bobby-knight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="171" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvqYBWnIEaa0jgzMiv0B2JrxijyOheUq6nSK75chyphenhyphenhBfF_XB-9y2FE1BPRqKQE32WEn0fP73NdIvjhg0trlh94EUVFs8n22TVflOv6yyJ5PIQfIX61k1tSudepd7GnDgq481Kc6YuzCwk/s400/bobby-knight.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">“It’s the economy, you stupid fuck.”</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoBodyText2">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Knight’s narrow victory over former first lady Rosalyn
Carter confounded the prognosticators and talking heads of the media, but in
retrospect, it should have been obvious that Carter had simply been in the
public eye too long and carried too much baggage. The public just didn’t trust
her; also, her choice of John Wayne Gacy as her running mate may have been
ill-advised.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAn2_VdE1OfOqfYWbXzhoY7tnsa0ubtlko0Gg5oaOEF483-j-q8UtA8sCVOS8MaEUH9P1Qt0XGFV8afnB3qUC6CmBoGuFPzFLMP0vOShjNTsxf4BvbB-6gUi-Gzd0yIfApUR0Lc4DKmV8/s1600/ros+and+gacy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAn2_VdE1OfOqfYWbXzhoY7tnsa0ubtlko0Gg5oaOEF483-j-q8UtA8sCVOS8MaEUH9P1Qt0XGFV8afnB3qUC6CmBoGuFPzFLMP0vOShjNTsxf4BvbB-6gUi-Gzd0yIfApUR0Lc4DKmV8/s400/ros+and+gacy.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">“No skeletons in his <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">closet,
</i>no. None.”</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But others besides politicians left their mark on the decade
of the 1990’s. No one could ever forget that day in 1995 when former star
football player O.J. Simpson jumped once again into the national consciousness
and took over the television broadcasts for days. The sight of his white Bronco
speeding down the highway, with police cars close behind, is one that will be
long remembered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheWNAP0QcxpXEMxyNPQwGtz3_waaQ7QSdINQ7vcirUbp6-C7duJwntmSmvGd5Kh0WOcplhTcOluMwmajs9cyZd2zbwCKqjqFV1XmsjhviSLrWDDwQ985eTMPsYGBxX-IYav1A1DlD7A6Y/s1600/OJ_white_Bronco_chase.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheWNAP0QcxpXEMxyNPQwGtz3_waaQ7QSdINQ7vcirUbp6-C7duJwntmSmvGd5Kh0WOcplhTcOluMwmajs9cyZd2zbwCKqjqFV1XmsjhviSLrWDDwQ985eTMPsYGBxX-IYav1A1DlD7A6Y/s400/OJ_white_Bronco_chase.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">O.J. became an instant
national hero when it was learned the three kittens he had rescued from the
burning building made it to the vet on time.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoBodyText2">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was the best of times, but politics always rears its ugly
head again; before we knew it, another election season was upon us.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For some reason, the Democrats nominated a Viagra salesman
from Kansas for president in 1996, paving the way for an easy victory and second
term for President Knight. This second term itself was not easy, however; in
1998 Knight was impeached by the House of Representatives after a video
surfaced showing the president trying to strangle one of his cabinet members.
The Senate, whose members were more familiar with auto-erotic asphyxiation,
voted to acquit Knight and he finished out his term.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The new millennium arrived on January 1, 2000, and as
expected no one thought it was a big deal. It wasn’t, other than the Y2K bug
that fucked up every system everywhere in the world and forced that year long
delay in the arrival of the big day. Fortunately, few noticed, and of course we
didn’t tell the stupid people.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The 2000 election pitted Vice President Dick Cheney against
the son of a former president and heir to a political family legacy and
fortune: John F. Kennedy, Jr. The contest was the closest in history; the
outcome in doubt for weeks. The final result remained in dispute until early
election morning, when the Supreme Court finally stepped in and ordered
everyone to stop voting. Though he lost the popular vote 17 to 9, J.F.K. Jr.
was able to garner the necessary 270 electoral votes to win.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The new president brought a unique style to the White House;
he liked to call himself “The Pilot” and promised to take the helm and fly the
country on a safe course through the darkness despite his limited set of
skills. But early in his administration, events were to put the nation on a
crash course with destiny.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Those who lived through it will never forget the images they
saw that day. Some events are such that everyone remembers, the rest of their
lives, where they were when they heard the news. In many ways, so many years
later, America is still coming to grips with the tragic events of 12/17.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Many Americans were already tuned in to the TV when the news
reports first flashed. Many more heard from friends and co-workers and rushed
to the nearest set. What they saw will always haunt them: two terrorists riding
a stolen tandem bicycle into the Chrysler Building. The poor terrorists were
horribly killed, and a nation poured out its heart in mourning for over an
hour. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Eventually, life mostly got back to normal, and in February
2003 the Oakland Raiders were crushed 48-21 in Super Bowl XXXVII by the Tampa
Bay Buccaneers.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZL6ZpKkWq_yx4wmoydqNFNyN0ORKzIUZ4v-DJqYfo9ZLMpdFXRR46v9JdKd1KvuFXQUIrUg-qxDnWcGMHCyJ-0jYp7MU4VcmTJZCOw-L0Lu6qMp2kUjR87_XDbCLNU3sdJumEsRotC9g/s1600/superbowl_37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZL6ZpKkWq_yx4wmoydqNFNyN0ORKzIUZ4v-DJqYfo9ZLMpdFXRR46v9JdKd1KvuFXQUIrUg-qxDnWcGMHCyJ-0jYp7MU4VcmTJZCOw-L0Lu6qMp2kUjR87_XDbCLNU3sdJumEsRotC9g/s400/superbowl_37.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That happens in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">every</i>
conceivable timeline, with mathematical certainty.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoBodyText2">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The year 2003 also saw the nation. go to war. Certain
intelligence reports, since disputed, seemed to indicate a country long
unfriendly to the U.S. was in violation of international law and developing
weapons of mass destruction. In April of that year, the U.S. invaded France.
There was surpisingly little international support for this move, and in fact
Germany flatly refused to support or assist the invasion in any way. For this
betrayal, everything German known to Americans was soon renamed “Liberty.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu0Sme_3LhwWz934RoNkQO_MwXU7UVGsyNej2Ap64QL45Adi1LcSg9mU_TXo9D2zrmrE8q6OQ2bPu3VlTf5eMnm-qpKYE9OdGD1kqoagVKifh1iTcVZuqoyNn6hUjmgd0fC6-qsbyxXa0/s1600/cake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu0Sme_3LhwWz934RoNkQO_MwXU7UVGsyNej2Ap64QL45Adi1LcSg9mU_TXo9D2zrmrE8q6OQ2bPu3VlTf5eMnm-qpKYE9OdGD1kqoagVKifh1iTcVZuqoyNn6hUjmgd0fC6-qsbyxXa0/s400/cake.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We loved our Liberty Chocolate, but that outbreak of Liberty
Measles was scary.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoBodyText2">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The war itself went well and lasted roughly ten minutes. No
weapons were found. In fact, the whole thing was a misunderstanding, an audio
surveillance agent who misheard the words “math instruction.” The Bourbaki, it
turns out, is not a terrorist cell at all but a group of French mathematicians
in the 19<sup>th</sup> century. There was a brief flurry of stories regarding
mistreatment and even torture of French prisoners, but this faded when it
turned out no one really had a problem with that sort of thing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kennedy was re-elected by a slightly larger margin the
second time around when the Republican Party forgot to nominate anyone in 2004.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The year 2005 in America will be largely remembered as the
year nature struck back with an act of God so powerful it reminded us all how
helpless even the strongest nation can be when pitted against such forces. In
August of that year, Hurricane Hillary devastated the entire Gulf Coast area in
a matter of hours. Overnight, with winds gusting up to 7 miles an hour, Hillary
simply obliterated neighborhoods. Those too poor or stupid to evacuate the area
soon regretted their poverty and/or stupidity. A storm surge off the coast of
Louisiana caused water to somehow find its way to areas<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>below sea level, and the city of New Orleans,
Louisiana, was nearly drowned. Thousands of refugees found shelter at the
Independence Bowl in nearby Shreveport, as the nation watched their desperate
plight on TV. Fortunately, help was on the way. To its everlasting credit, FEMA
required a mere six weeks to find a map with Shreveport on it, and soon there
were enough body bags for all.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbHyg5A1DNfZQjxoD3gmVO_swj7VSQWPctvscj0p-plgmYPTGUUim8ALHtBexWMdTHB4XCpiY1MnjWa864r7ezYuL5yLDUbCpgVnIxUr1NJ9M6Lwlxex6XeGVcgE-2N9WR_aSSAfqUkFw/s1600/bags.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbHyg5A1DNfZQjxoD3gmVO_swj7VSQWPctvscj0p-plgmYPTGUUim8ALHtBexWMdTHB4XCpiY1MnjWa864r7ezYuL5yLDUbCpgVnIxUr1NJ9M6Lwlxex6XeGVcgE-2N9WR_aSSAfqUkFw/s400/bags.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heckuva job, Greenie, or whoever.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoBodyText2">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The year 2008 was a historic one in many ways. The string of
memorable events began in February, when future Hall-of-Fame quarterback Joey
Harrington led his Detroit Lions to an exciting win in the Super Bowl to
complete the first undefeated 19-0 season in NFL history. Detroit won its
fourth championship and wrapped up its perfect season with a signature play in
the fourth quarter of this close contest. Lions receiver David Tyree put
himself in the highlight reels for years to come with his game-saving play,
catching a pass from Harrington with his eye socket.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then, a few months later, things got scary again, with a
meltdown in a key industry threatening to take the whole economy down.
Government intervention was required, as some companies are simply “too big to
fail,” and a financial bailout was needed when an industry-wide acceptance of
ridiculously huge risks became commonplace and the risks went bad.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In retrospect, many felt it should have been obvious that
the movie <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Avatar </i>would be such a
disaster that it would threaten the entire entertainment industry, and thus the
economy as a whole, but that’s just hindsight. While the new 3D technology gave
many of those who saw the film headaches, it did succeed in making others
nauseous. No one, however, was prepared for the avalanche of lawsuits that
followed, and the government simply had to step in, however distasteful it was.
There simply weren’t enough lawyers, and something had to be done.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There were protests, of course; the Occupy Hollywood
Boulevard movement seemed to be catching on for a time, but our wise and
beneficent government came up with a surprisingly elegant solution: simply move
the film and TV industry out of Hollywood. Many traditions fell by the wayside,
but in the end the entertainment industry quickly became every bit as
entrenched in its new home: exciting Coos Bay, Oregon.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyNkJpqsnP8Ri6_0N375UeKPrmNKV75dR4fHFbXlE6oAZLO1OhPuBh94VOluwcDwUPcXfi_y0CGVTxJ5i776L4_CCrcE5kCmCBUhIVqrweJZuC4xeQgvhIU7Sl1GPA0j8uHv4g13nTYKw/s1600/coos+bay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyNkJpqsnP8Ri6_0N375UeKPrmNKV75dR4fHFbXlE6oAZLO1OhPuBh94VOluwcDwUPcXfi_y0CGVTxJ5i776L4_CCrcE5kCmCBUhIVqrweJZuC4xeQgvhIU7Sl1GPA0j8uHv4g13nTYKw/s400/coos+bay.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where the magic happens.</td></tr>
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Of course 2008 will also be remembered for its historic
election result, in which the United States chose its first African-American
president. In a landslide, the voters overwhelmingly supported a man who, while
new to the political scene, was able to convincingly assure us that we’d be in
good hands: the guy from the All-State commercial.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvVaMamSDtp1EV_SV0dyMy9f29uRHVgMNINBqKiQc94JM9zTyFwMgixRjOtYVEuVboqfiVOXaPQK1IQpEsq39nWceAYgIiIhJkTlg8PlI70p1TfxmXVEUDqp_CbXsOuPYd_5OK5PQlONE/s1600/allstate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvVaMamSDtp1EV_SV0dyMy9f29uRHVgMNINBqKiQc94JM9zTyFwMgixRjOtYVEuVboqfiVOXaPQK1IQpEsq39nWceAYgIiIhJkTlg8PlI70p1TfxmXVEUDqp_CbXsOuPYd_5OK5PQlONE/s400/allstate.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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Perhaps our greatest president, things went so well during
his administration that absolutely nothing happened for the next eight
years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least nothing that we
remember. We’re pretty sure he must have been re-elected in 2012, because
that’s how the thing works, but with the Electoral College the way it is
nowadays, who really knows. </div>
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<br /></div>
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If not the best of times, it at least passed quietly. We
think.</div>
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<br /></div>
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But you know how Americans get when things are going well: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">what the fuck. </i>We get bored, or some
damn thing; we need to shake things up again, to live, as they say, in
interesting times. So, good luck in retirement, President
Guy-From-The-All-State-Commercial; we are on a new track now. And while some of
us may have had a few misgivings, mostly inconsequential policy details, about
the candidates in 2016, at least none among us have any doubts about the
experience, character and temperament brought to the White House by our new
President:</div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy8nBaQ0lpDp1Bg7d-ItgnbDQn7L2IHeON7NNsToQztGDBmDP9xPFiF-BOsesM-HhI9YiU3JnhiyJnC4yJpSwIJ7wnwRpU5ttMIOklLrdUkvzigy9oULFtV12s2Wwh9Zg6Pvgax4aLVGk/s1600/dunno.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy8nBaQ0lpDp1Bg7d-ItgnbDQn7L2IHeON7NNsToQztGDBmDP9xPFiF-BOsesM-HhI9YiU3JnhiyJnC4yJpSwIJ7wnwRpU5ttMIOklLrdUkvzigy9oULFtV12s2Wwh9Zg6Pvgax4aLVGk/s400/dunno.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah, I don’t know who he is, either.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-14890873145991281232016-11-17T14:07:00.000-08:002016-11-17T14:07:50.017-08:00They Also Ran Good: Hubert Humphrey<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<i>[This is the eighth in a series of posts, going back
several years now, on the topic of losing presidential candidates since 1960.
I’ve actually had this one in the works for a couple of years, but these are
supposed to be funny, that’s what I write, and it’s easy to run into roadblocks
trying to do that when the subject is 1968. If you lived through it, and maybe
even if you didn’t, you should be aware of one stark fact: 1968 simply wasn’t
funny. It started bad, mostly ended bad except for the cool bit with the
astronauts circling the moon on Christmas eve, and in between was some
seriously fucked up shit. I will give it a go regardless; I like to write about
history, and with 2016 being such a historic year now, I’m feeling inspired. In
a year that saw such a momentous event, with Hillary Clinton becoming the first
woman in history to accidentally e-mail the presidency to a cartoon
billionaire, it’s time to get back to work. As always, most of what you will
read is documented historical fact; some, though, is shit I made up whilst
sitting alone in my room chain-smoking joints. I trust you will be able to tell
the difference.]</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The Man</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hubert Horatio Humphrey, Jr., was born on May 27, 1911 in
Wallace, South Dakota. Yup, Hubert Horatio Humphrey. I’ve made fun of his
cartoonish name in the past, but I’m not going to do that here. I will not. No
more “Oompa-Loompa” jokes; nope, the man was Vice-President of the United
States of America, after all, and deserves his dignity.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgipRk5LEzixXm19XsPXWCKzt5go0VRzwETIj1vqiVOLmcp-HIEDi8ATsWbrOT4oSqTEZ54FMtrYrnIDQLGR4fsMSusMJaAYwspeYJHpEr0ZL6iXsoxLVWngl4nZZQjOSx1KqQWyWHXa8g/s1600/Hubert_H_Humphrey-H.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgipRk5LEzixXm19XsPXWCKzt5go0VRzwETIj1vqiVOLmcp-HIEDi8ATsWbrOT4oSqTEZ54FMtrYrnIDQLGR4fsMSusMJaAYwspeYJHpEr0ZL6iXsoxLVWngl4nZZQjOSx1KqQWyWHXa8g/s400/Hubert_H_Humphrey-H.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hubert Horatio Humphrey Hornblower Honk Honk Honk</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
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Hubert studied pharmacy in college (hey, so did I!) and ran
the family drugstore before entering politics; he was elected mayor of
Minneapolis, Minnesota in 1945 and senator from Minnesota in 1948. Known as a
strong anti-Communist in his early political days, he became more known as a
senator for his work in passing civil rights legislation and involvement in the
creation of Medicare and the Peace Corps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Chosen by President Lyndon B. Johnson to be his running mate in 1964, he
spent the next four years as understudy to a man who became less and less
popular seemingly by the minute after 1965.</div>
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<br /></div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The Setting</span></b></div>
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One more time: 1968 was a fucked up year in American
history. Among other fucked up shit, there was this thing going on called the
Vietnam War. While this is far too large a topic in its own right to be covered
here, let’s just say that as the year dawned American combat soldiers had been
engaged there for nearly three years, young people being conscripted and sent
to fight and possibly die in a country most Americans still struggled to locate
on a map. It may have begun as a well-meaning attempt to help the people of
South Vietnam resist the evil encroachment of communism, but it was getting costly
in lives and materials, and...three years? Vietnam was such a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">dink </i>country, and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">we won World War II, goddammit. Now we can’t beat Vietnam? Fire the
coach, already.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>Plus, as the first
of our wars to be televised, it didn’t help the cause when we kept seeing shit
like this:</div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhukYlDtbbgOkt8TdQMujjQ5dyfkNUOy58GwgA_kuPcJh3tNAnCr_HtmLMeU5MNhX-ozGe6sr9ax2jPcFvUoWYvB4J60h-z8JPtBqXyGgVD82W2o3wficqNiLS-XF2mYmnJRz_GyuTf_IU/s1600/napalm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhukYlDtbbgOkt8TdQMujjQ5dyfkNUOy58GwgA_kuPcJh3tNAnCr_HtmLMeU5MNhX-ozGe6sr9ax2jPcFvUoWYvB4J60h-z8JPtBqXyGgVD82W2o3wficqNiLS-XF2mYmnJRz_GyuTf_IU/s400/napalm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">American tax dollars at work.</td></tr>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Aaaaaaaaaand...this:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsMoaoiEYvmdkHNACS8R1M0WFKx_Xp610iya14eHsl_1Xode9eczXBrLEBymhd7cIcRh1Kzz4o57jaAig2xZQjOGtfhBRv_U-cR2yVA3TS36PNeFJsEoIkpgOFbda2SWtRCtOMj1i0kwU/s1600/saigon-execution.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsMoaoiEYvmdkHNACS8R1M0WFKx_Xp610iya14eHsl_1Xode9eczXBrLEBymhd7cIcRh1Kzz4o57jaAig2xZQjOGtfhBRv_U-cR2yVA3TS36PNeFJsEoIkpgOFbda2SWtRCtOMj1i0kwU/s400/saigon-execution.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hint: the guy with the gun was on our side.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Added to this unrest were increasing racial tensions; the
country was only a few years removed from the spectacle of the governor of an
American state standing in the doorway of a state university, denying entry to
African-Americans with a cry of “segregation forever!” (More on George Wallace
later.) Inner cities were periodically erupting in violence. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Ah, but 1968 wasn’t all shit, was it? Surely something
uplifting must have occurred during that long, brutal<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>year to take our minds off things and bring
us together? Well, let’s see...there was O.J. Simpson, dazzling us all on his
way to a Heisman Trophy-winning season as the best college football player in
the land. There was that.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjabXVVRzFsfWOvWAEdgQ8t89EJlY-LBXow7w097xm_G5mXzZM3KoB4js_-2PSpHMVoRY6SDE6OpLtDN6icNd0dnanILrj6qY5I12h8d5mTrYRUwmiPe5sC6SGyeg4L_CnqzXKdgcDIlQ/s1600/simpson-heisman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjabXVVRzFsfWOvWAEdgQ8t89EJlY-LBXow7w097xm_G5mXzZM3KoB4js_-2PSpHMVoRY6SDE6OpLtDN6icNd0dnanILrj6qY5I12h8d5mTrYRUwmiPe5sC6SGyeg4L_CnqzXKdgcDIlQ/s400/simpson-heisman.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Cue uplifting orchestral theme)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So......yeah. Violence in the cities, unrest on college
campuses, disturbing images on our TV screens, and, to top it off, many of the
more privileged young people were “dropping out” of society, rejecting
mainstream lifestyles, and taking strange psychedelic drugs that made them act
weird and enjoy sitar music and other nonsense. It also made them want to have
sex a lot, which was simply unheard of before 1968.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrtf1eFH5I5e2T8ov1bixjrdWyHV-F_QdHzhckshIwpyVQx2X4LHzVDOGDophcDKpFmjz2-97EypoQHp01I11rryxDxbenxXpG5ir1dDw8qKoJW5cCnOfCW1jtFbX_Gtzk6Y6SovqD-0E/s1600/hippies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrtf1eFH5I5e2T8ov1bixjrdWyHV-F_QdHzhckshIwpyVQx2X4LHzVDOGDophcDKpFmjz2-97EypoQHp01I11rryxDxbenxXpG5ir1dDw8qKoJW5cCnOfCW1jtFbX_Gtzk6Y6SovqD-0E/s400/hippies.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Known then as “hippies,” you 20-somethings know them today
as “Grandpa” and “Grandma.” </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As so often happens, the world was trying to die and many
wanted to just let it. Setting the stage for...<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The Primaries</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hubert Humphrey began the year, not as a candidate for
president, but as the vice-president to an incumbent president who, having
taken office in 1963 and winning re-election the following year, was eligible
to run again in 1968.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the year began,
Lyndon Johnson was presumed to have control of the party machinery and thus a
stranglehold on the nomination. His only announced competition was coming from
one Eugene McCarthy, a senator from Minnesota running an anti-war campaign </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjefmydye82aZQ1-65jWNHvpy7YwYG2tSxmB9qqn1cQ6JD_uTdbq35v6H_P7xLT34gjyIG86eZdbi8TV6FjDJFEhak6-Rm5ZlVG55u9aviMpLtTaYncRcbZqKWHXuh0GleCnUE-MbqrD-s/s1600/mcarthy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjefmydye82aZQ1-65jWNHvpy7YwYG2tSxmB9qqn1cQ6JD_uTdbq35v6H_P7xLT34gjyIG86eZdbi8TV6FjDJFEhak6-Rm5ZlVG55u9aviMpLtTaYncRcbZqKWHXuh0GleCnUE-MbqrD-s/s320/mcarthy.jpg" width="246" /></a></div>
using young volunteers recruited from the college campuses, those
disaffected-but-still-willing-to-work-within-the-system-to-bring-change youths
that could clean up, cut their hair and go door to door in New Hampshire, then
as now the first primary kicking off the presidential campaign. This was one of
those long-shot pipe dream sort of campaigns, obviously doomed to fold up like
a lawn chair when forced to confront political reality. Meanwhile Robert F.
Kennedy, former Attorney General and younger brother to the late president John
F. Kennedy, had yet to enter the fray; still wringing his hands over the
thought of challenging an incumbent president of his own party, Kennedy
vacillated and allowed McCarthy to commandeer the growing youth movement. And
while primaries weren’t so important then as now with respect to choosing
delegates to the conventions of either party, it was, as it is today, an early
look at a candidate’s ability to win votes outside his home state. More
importantly it could show, as it still can, a presumed front-runner’s
vulnerabilities as a national candidate if he (or she) loses or even fails to
win by the anticipated margin. This happened to Lyndon B. Johnson in New
Hampshire in 1968; Eugene McCarthy, a somewhat unorthodox candidate given to eccentricities
like quoting Voltaire on the stump, managed to win 42.4% of the vote against
Johnson’s 49.5%. When votes for McCarthy in the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Republican </i>primary were added in, the difference was only 230
votes.
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The high-minded McCarthy and his idealistic young followers
were elated; that elation, born of having risked a challenge to a sitting
president where others (cough <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Kennedy </i>cough
cough) dared not, lasted roughly seven minutes. That very night, Robert F.
Kennedy issued a statement that he was “re-assessing” his position in the race
for the highest office in the land. As one of McCarthy’s student workers put
it, “we woke up after the New Hampshire primary like it was Christmas Day. And
when we went down to the tree, we found Bobby Kennedy had stolen our Christmas
presents.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<h2>
Bobby Kennedy: A Wedgie Waiting To Happen</h2>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnwPlsHfaRJW7G6egV27Hb7hAiKRT9iipp_JoW1HY9l85xw5HtwXzrFSyGjfRaaALBl8rwTHxmLFWPEAF-8Ce5RQFhJvaW2kOOCA19F6Oao00NV-91-1EsAqAICFnGtYchiu3YUGpIH2Y/s1600/bobby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnwPlsHfaRJW7G6egV27Hb7hAiKRT9iipp_JoW1HY9l85xw5HtwXzrFSyGjfRaaALBl8rwTHxmLFWPEAF-8Ce5RQFhJvaW2kOOCA19F6Oao00NV-91-1EsAqAICFnGtYchiu3YUGpIH2Y/s320/bobby.jpg" width="255" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Robert F. Kennedy was the third son of Joseph P. Kennedy,
who himself was a Harvard graduate, very wealthy businessman and former
ambassador to Great Britain. Unlike some other wealthy businessmen in American
history, Joseph decided that rather than buy the presidency for himself, he
would buy it for each of his sons in turn. Eldest son Joseph, Jr., was
unfortunately killed in World War II, becoming ineligible for the presidency, whereupon
John F. Kennedy assumed the mantle of family expectations and was elected
President of the United States in 1960. Younger brother Robert served as
Attorney General and All-Purpose Lightning Rod until after John’s assassination
in 1963. Controversial from the beginning, he was known for zealous and
occasionally extra-legal pursuit of mobsters and others with mob connections
and acquired a reputation for ruthlessness. Nevertheless, he benefited from the
overly romanticized legacy of his brother and the family money, and, having won
a seat in the U.S. Senate representing New York in 1964, could lay claim to a
substantial base of support merely by announcing his candidacy. Like many who
were close to John Kennedy, Bobby could never shake the feeling that Lyndon
Johnson was a usurper and that it was he, not Lyndon, that was the true heir to
the unfulfilled promise of JFK. Still, he hesitated, even as the Johnson
administration thrashed about in the tarpit that was the Vietnam War and 1968
began to shape up as the clusterfucked mega-downer it was to become. Already
branded a ruthless opportunist, the risk of causing disunity and possible
destruction of his own party was too heavy a burden for his conscience to bear.
If all he had to do was sneak in and swipe somebody else’s Christmas presents,
on the other hand, well, that’s a different matter.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<h2>
Johnson Sticks a Fork In Himself</h2>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On March 31, less than three weeks after his “victory” in
the New Hampshire primary, President Lyndon Baines Johnson announced he would
not be a candidate for anything in 1968. Burdened by Vietnam, concerned for his
health (he barely lived another four years even without the stress of the
presidency) and realizing he would actually have to fight for re-nomination,
Johnson had no taste for the battles ahead. It was time to retire to the ranch
in Texas, and let others take the mantle of responsibility in these difficult
times. Of course, none of this affected his right to control the Democratic
party, choose the convention site, give out patronage jobs, reward loyalty, and
all the other hallmarks of old-style party politics. This more or less added up
to choosing his successor, his vice-president, as the party’s next nominee for
president, primaries be damned.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyr6kwjY5mK-pWdwdsOIVveyoWz8rmw-kip-OnjydMQ2IfYQsbviM5mqruPmhv_Rx3q8J9riJSbFJjvqYkgADjEKznkJRM3-CrCvw_LfQA17BVDu4JEeCBtOh5dyC-cyX4_NCC206RlHw/s1600/Lyndon_B_Johnson-AB.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyr6kwjY5mK-pWdwdsOIVveyoWz8rmw-kip-OnjydMQ2IfYQsbviM5mqruPmhv_Rx3q8J9riJSbFJjvqYkgADjEKznkJRM3-CrCvw_LfQA17BVDu4JEeCBtOh5dyC-cyX4_NCC206RlHw/s400/Lyndon_B_Johnson-AB.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Typical Texas jerkwad.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thus Hubert H. Humphrey, loyal soldier of the administration
and party stalwart, became the choice of the inner circle of the party, with
Eugene McCarthy and, Bobby Kennedy, finally in the race, battling it out in a
series of primary contests that may or may not have made a difference in the
end. With party bosses still controlling the majority of convention delegates,
Humphrey could contend for the nomination without contesting the primaries. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then, four days after Johnson’s abdication, the next shock
came.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<h2>
It Gets Ugly</h2>
<div class="MsoNormal">
From the Supreme Court decision in the case of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Brown vs. Board of Education </i>in 1954 to
the passing of the Civil Rights Acts in 1964 and 1965, the legal barriers
against integration of black and white people and the granting of equal rights
to minorities had pretty much all come down. While some southern states were
still fighting for segregation, the power of the federal government to enforce
federal law couldn’t be resisted forever. But they were trying. And,
unfortunately, economic conditions in black neighborhoods in northern cities
meant the people living there weren’t too happy, either. So, from 1965 into
1968, the roster of cities that saw racial violence, riots and looting kept
growing: Los Angeles, Washington, Cleveland, Omaha, Des Moines, Chicago,
Detroit, Cleveland (again), Minneapolis...</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And by this time, some (self-appointed) black leaders,
notably Stokely Carmichael and H. Rap Brown, were publicly calling for more
violence.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Fortunately, the civil rights movement had at least one calm
and sane voice: a man committed to fighting for social and racial justice,
fairness and equality, and freedom for all Americans, using peaceful
resistance, saintly patience, perseverance, and appealing to the consciences
and “better angels” of our nature. Of course, this being 1968, that meant he
had to die.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs4J79Kk8ZCNM8gJiCTHvLBXrYj4objxf9Dsv1wD2d0mpdZkmr1G9tEbOTp_W9ppsJ3b0s0kRNGte0xQX0uByhsqqA4DOeRGklUuOvfocRhKQ1pavzaZtqysEm7JRCIpkHy6p3iSB87AI/s1600/martinlking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs4J79Kk8ZCNM8gJiCTHvLBXrYj4objxf9Dsv1wD2d0mpdZkmr1G9tEbOTp_W9ppsJ3b0s0kRNGte0xQX0uByhsqqA4DOeRGklUuOvfocRhKQ1pavzaZtqysEm7JRCIpkHy6p3iSB87AI/s320/martinlking.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1968: About as funny as a hole in this guy’s head.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr. (you’ve
probably heard of him, he’s a Day now)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>in April of 1968 during the primary campaign sparked a new wave of
violence, sparked calls for “Law and Order” across the nation, and certainly
required a response from the presidential candidates. The day after King’s
assassination, Kennedy talked about violence that was “slower but just as
deadly and destructive as the gun or the bomb in the night. This is the
violence of institutions; indifference and inaction and slow decay. This is the
violence that affects the poor, that poisons the relations between men because
their skin has different colors.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Such sentiments coming from this recent victim of political
violence against his family, this recently announced presidential candidate
reaching out to minorities, dedicating himself to helping the underprivileged,
achieving peace in Vietnam and unity at home, could only mean one thing: it was
1968, and he had to die, too.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnwPlsHfaRJW7G6egV27Hb7hAiKRT9iipp_JoW1HY9l85xw5HtwXzrFSyGjfRaaALBl8rwTHxmLFWPEAF-8Ce5RQFhJvaW2kOOCA19F6Oao00NV-91-1EsAqAICFnGtYchiu3YUGpIH2Y/s1600/bobby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnwPlsHfaRJW7G6egV27Hb7hAiKRT9iipp_JoW1HY9l85xw5HtwXzrFSyGjfRaaALBl8rwTHxmLFWPEAF-8Ce5RQFhJvaW2kOOCA19F6Oao00NV-91-1EsAqAICFnGtYchiu3YUGpIH2Y/s320/bobby.jpg" width="255" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1968: About as funny as a submarine with screen doors--that
lead to the kitchen, where this guy gets shot by some loser.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On June 5, the night he won the California primary and
minutes after telling a crowd assembled at the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles
that it was “on to Chicago, and let’s win there,” Bobby Kennedy was shot in the
kitchen by some loser, dying the following day. Another funeral, again with the
flag-draped coffin, here’s another grieving widow...didn’t we just see this
movie? Fucking 1968, already.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The Convention</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, in August of that fateful year, the survivors staggered
into Chicago for the Democratic National Convention: Hubert Humphrey, with enough
support from party bosses and party luminaries to have the nomination
essentially sewn up; Eugene McCarthy, still tilting at windmills and quoting
Voltaire; and George McGovern, trying to marshal the Kennedy forces but who
would need to wait four years for<a href="http://killedbyfish.blogspot.com/2011/02/they-also-ran-good-george-mcgovern.html" target="_blank"> his own drubbing at the hands of Richard Nixon.</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There was a brief movement to draft Edward M. Kennedy for
the nomination, but like all Ted Kennedy For President movements its attention
quickly waned and it drove off a bridge shortly after leaving the cottage</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Also descending on Chicago for the convention were thousands
of anti-war protesters, disaffected youth, leftist radicals, and general
ne’er-do-wells. Already there waiting for them were the Chicago Police, soon to
be joined by the Illinois National Guard. Confrontations ensued,
misunderstandings were had, tempers flared, and things got a little out of
hand. Eventually, the police remembered they had billy clubs, riot gear and
tear gas, and television viewers were treated to the sight of young protesters
and sometimes members of the press being beaten senseless by Chicago law
enforcement under the direction of Mayor Richard Daley, a major player at the
convention. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHB-CLRYn2rD5v4VDb4BQJI4eFWCD8NChAv1lzaTvVuFu9oWtT4uJtnSnKh3FaS2EIbQ0Trw8gqqctxosDkgaVztiqdQm0cQO3vYA2ChSiNIVPzkV2RVnVpznEIDHqPEhHF8xGwP1f63U/s1600/convention.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHB-CLRYn2rD5v4VDb4BQJI4eFWCD8NChAv1lzaTvVuFu9oWtT4uJtnSnKh3FaS2EIbQ0Trw8gqqctxosDkgaVztiqdQm0cQO3vYA2ChSiNIVPzkV2RVnVpznEIDHqPEhHF8xGwP1f63U/s400/convention.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">“Convention’s going well, don’t you think?”</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Meanwhile, inside the convention center, the Democrats were
busy at work choosing their presidential candidate. This got some of the TV
coverage that week. And, in the end, as everyone knew would happen, the party
chose Hubert H. Humphrey to be its standard bearer in 1968. Humphrey, who
hadn’t entered a single primary that year, who excited no passions on the level
of Bobby Kennedy or Eugene McCarthy, whose support of Johnson’s Vietnam
policies fed the protests and violence at his<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>nominating convention, was the nominee. After all the excitement,
after McCarthy’s youth movement, after Kennedy’s meteoric campaign, the
Democrats offered up what Hunter S. Thompson called a “withered booby prize.”
Of course, Thompson also once called Humphrey a “treacherous, brain-damaged old
vulture” who should be “put in a goddamn bottle and sent out with the Japanese
current,” so we might take his phrasing with a grain of salt. But the sense of
anti-climax and disappointment was palpable. There was a feeling that the
Democratic Party hadn’t so much chosen a presidential candidate as they had...<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">coughed something up. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1v5iZzCFG6PL2eFX9dxmq3VltrnvF4esusjt-xeokUwOlZ6lUNOFavSjeUxlRIIB90LCQq340UtQ03eQ19Mf2_iPnYsQn3-Wx4_IpAxetcNTDT0iyxbmwWWYEfhLSpLR_SHSzTlYqdH4/s1600/Hubert-Humphrey2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1v5iZzCFG6PL2eFX9dxmq3VltrnvF4esusjt-xeokUwOlZ6lUNOFavSjeUxlRIIB90LCQq340UtQ03eQ19Mf2_iPnYsQn3-Wx4_IpAxetcNTDT0iyxbmwWWYEfhLSpLR_SHSzTlYqdH4/s1600/Hubert-Humphrey2.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ack.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The General Election
Campaign: Richard Nixon</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By 1968, Richard Milhous Nixon had been a national political
figure for 20 years. Elected to the U.S. Congress from California in 1946 and
the Senate in 1950, he was noted for his anti-Communist rhetoric and for
running two of the dirtiest campaigns in American history. Basically, the guy
was always a shit, and how he got on the ticket and became Vice-President under
someone as decent as Dwight D. Eisenhower is one of those odious accidents of
history that no one notices right away, like when the cat pees in the toaster.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://killedbyfish.blogspot.com/2011/07/they-also-ran-good-richard-nixon.html" target="_blank"><u>I’ve written about Richard Nixon before</u></a>, and all I
will say in his favor is that his campaign was well-run, well thought out, and
exactly the kind of boring and vague oatmeal barf that many people seemed to
need to calm the fuck down in 1968. The contrast in conventions, the chaos of
the Democrats vs. the order of the Republicans, was glaring. He pledged to
“bring us together,” and he may even have meant it. Still, Nixon was a shit, if
I haven’t mentioned that before.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheHQXQCQZXMkcIuCObZilGCn1ZcxzyrPu3snr5Uxuj5TVNwaUrDrlrEBI-krALc5IXgjKoWjDdBci8eBKM5ZaUQVidBI4zpeBBSal313y1zUwc2ABEQP2zeTQY40rpyFKiajoZoffwNpI/s1600/nixon+ick.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheHQXQCQZXMkcIuCObZilGCn1ZcxzyrPu3snr5Uxuj5TVNwaUrDrlrEBI-krALc5IXgjKoWjDdBci8eBKM5ZaUQVidBI4zpeBBSal313y1zUwc2ABEQP2zeTQY40rpyFKiajoZoffwNpI/s320/nixon+ick.jpg" width="270" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Richard M. Nixon, our creepiest president since the white
curly wig days.</td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The General Election
Campaign: George Wallace</span></b></div>
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The 1968 general election had a third party candidate in the
race, one George C. Wallace, former governor of Alabama. He was a feisty little
lifer in the game of southern politics, a conservative who offered simple
solutions to complex problems, usually blaming “pointy-headed” intellectuals in
Washington for the nation’s problems. He was for states’ rights and local
control of government and schools. He had much appeal in the southern states,
and at least some support in some of the northern industrial states among
blue-collar working people. He was also racist as fuck.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This was the man who, as governor, stood in a doorway at the
University of Alabama in 1963, defying (at least symbolically) the federal
government’s orders to desegregate. He famously cried “segregation today,
segregation tomorrow...segregation forever!”</div>
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<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-pbbR5baYjfvPWZXj3qvQYhtLQDp-hKqa_Hshh99KGMetPX7QAO3hlK5FwxjiXkn2CHjUznhBj1TPGjhH9EfkZXSayBFXatjtvnMYf5TDKhefEzv2RklLKQPsPg01M5e5lrzwqx1eDhk/s1600/george_wallace1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-pbbR5baYjfvPWZXj3qvQYhtLQDp-hKqa_Hshh99KGMetPX7QAO3hlK5FwxjiXkn2CHjUznhBj1TPGjhH9EfkZXSayBFXatjtvnMYf5TDKhefEzv2RklLKQPsPg01M5e5lrzwqx1eDhk/s400/george_wallace1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah, Wallace was a shit, too.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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As the fall campaign got under way, Wallace was polling
above 20% nationally, and a real threat to win enough states to prevent either
Nixon or Humphrey from winning enough electoral votes to win the election. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">What Went So Horribly,
Horribly Wrong</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Essentially, what went wrong for Hubert H. Humphrey was
everything I’ve written about above. All those factors worked against him to
some extent; through happenstance, he became the frontman for the party in
power in a year when everything seemed to be falling apart. Or, rather, when
everything <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">was </i>falling apart. The
country was losing its collective shit and the Democratic Party, though
technically in power, was fractured. Humphrey failed to distance himself from
Lyndon Johnson’s Vietnam policies until it was too late in the game, and Nixon
was allowed to get by with mumbling empty lawyer-ish phrases about not wanting
to undermine the ongoing peace negotiations by something so irresponsible as
outlining a position on the most important issue of the campaign.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Humphrey was, at bottom, an old-school liberal with populist
leanings, “fighting for the little man,” and, maybe above all, a career
politician. He got his big career break in a year when the shit was hitting the
fan. Some of that shit hit him square in the face, and he had to deal with that
first. He was seen, rightly, as the heir apparent to Lyndon Johnson, who
because of his Texas drawl and mishandling of the Vietnam War was seen by many
as a sort of President Cowpie, Killer of Children. The chaos and violence at
the Democratic National Convention suggested that the Democrats could not stop
the chaos and violence in the nation. Humphrey’s campaign had to stumble out of
the blocks chained to that pile of rocks, and began the fall trailing in the
polls by 15% or so. This discouraged money from coming in at the beginning,
when it was most needed. It was only through the efforts of organized labor,
notably the AFL/CIO, that the gap began to close, and eventually Humphrey was
able to establish his own identity and differentiate himself from President
Cowpie, Killer of Children.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But it was too little, too late, with Nixon holding on to
win 43.2% of the popular vote and 301 electoral votes against Humphrey's 42.6%
and 191. George Wallace won five southern states, with 12.9% of the vote
nationwide and 46 electoral votes. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKBP-x0hqYj3op7JsnhDPIhol7akmar9Z_LBmUREoWoQ1bhD-zsbKATsBuyRGpStX79mxp7E6qndTqKdOVFdXJVK87UjfD_bOxYhKWxmiBVezOATlQxGVkdMVp4svr9g_fTktO7eIz2xE/s1600/640px-1968_Electoral_Map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKBP-x0hqYj3op7JsnhDPIhol7akmar9Z_LBmUREoWoQ1bhD-zsbKATsBuyRGpStX79mxp7E6qndTqKdOVFdXJVK87UjfD_bOxYhKWxmiBVezOATlQxGVkdMVp4svr9g_fTktO7eIz2xE/s400/640px-1968_Electoral_Map.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Finish</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So that ghastly year finally drew to a close. Martin Luther King
was dead, Bobby Kennedy was dead, the war dragged on, and Richard Nixon was
about to become President of the United States. Not the best of times, 1968. It
smelled of death and failure, pure and simple.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF3ci34KPWNwrgh8otdOEgbqeU3NR8ScExeWq3-QovIop3Q6lEt8m_B9bGG7WVgjN_K9Xm9cYD-Le-g_Z1IobFd1_Syvojmhs-yPQN3edBSRwM6twCeilmRWbnD8Nl89hbht0jAcE_WeU/s1600/gary+puckett.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF3ci34KPWNwrgh8otdOEgbqeU3NR8ScExeWq3-QovIop3Q6lEt8m_B9bGG7WVgjN_K9Xm9cYD-Le-g_Z1IobFd1_Syvojmhs-yPQN3edBSRwM6twCeilmRWbnD8Nl89hbht0jAcE_WeU/s400/gary+puckett.jpg" width="341" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But we’ll always have Gary Puckett and the Union Gap.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-80817290806508495372016-11-10T14:09:00.000-08:002016-11-10T14:11:34.639-08:00Canada To Build Wall, Make America Pay For It<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdv_wuh3FPbJCpFOkOEkCRysLshsQKSY04i4cywpml-JqTPifbGmXRtePXqZAkXDWeWECQ7s8sq4j95S2HF_p2KIbP4jm0WU5nP9KueUb5WPPEQZTjdrsN5YkuyT9fL3856mu4oLYBf2Y/s1600/new+ed.GIF" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdv_wuh3FPbJCpFOkOEkCRysLshsQKSY04i4cywpml-JqTPifbGmXRtePXqZAkXDWeWECQ7s8sq4j95S2HF_p2KIbP4jm0WU5nP9KueUb5WPPEQZTjdrsN5YkuyT9fL3856mu4oLYBf2Y/s1600/new+ed.GIF" /></a></div>
<br />
I'm not sure I've really got my thoughts together on this recent election, or if such a thing is even possible, but I'll give it a shot while I've got this stuff rolling around in my head. Then, of course, I will retreat back into zombie world, probably for another four years, It's OK. I'm happy there. They know me there.<br />
<br />
This isn't about political philosophy anymore, and it's not about Hillary Clinton anymore, either. Donald Trump is actually going to have to be president now, and name-calling the opposition won't accomplish anything. Hillary Clinton's flaws don't matter anymore; the Clinton-Bush era of American politics is over. In any case, I haven't seen any sign that Donald Trump even has a coherent political philosophy, so I don't think there is any real discussion to be had there.<br />
<br />
This will be policy by whim, I think. And since I don't think Trump even knows what he's going to do, I'm having a hard time imagining that his supporters have any knowledge along those lines either. Which means they may or may not be happy with the results, if they even have a clue what it was they were voting for. A vote to shake things up? To shake up Washington? That's a morally neutral concept at best. Really, even the simplest understanding of the laws of entropy and thermodynamics should tell you: a complex system has many more ways of being disordered than it does of being ordered. That's why things tend toward disorder over time, and why random shakeups are more likely to cause a system to be fucked up and dysfunctional than actually start working better. This isn't kicking your TV set back in the vacuum tube days, folks.<br />
<br />
So what do I really think is going to happen? <i>I have no fucking idea. </i>My hope is that we can keep Trump too distracted to accomplish anything. Keep asking his opinions on stuff that has nothing to do with the presidency, keep getting him to rate the supermodels according to do-ability or some shit and try to limit the damage he does that way. <br />
<br />
Predictions? I think it's 50-50 that the man goes full Napoleon-hat barking mad in office. The nuclear football will be replaced by a dummy suitcase full of knobs that set off buzzers and lights and shit, and Trump will happily bang away on them. Our next Supreme Court justice will be Judge Judy, and Newt Gingrich will think this is a good idea.<br />
<br />
We will build the wall on the Mexican border, and make them pay for it by hiring Mexican laborers and stiffing them on the payment. <br />
<br />
As for me, I really will try to come out of hiding once in a while to do some writing here. You'd think I would be inspired, but that might actually require watching the news once in a while, and I'm not sure that will happen. I suppose I could try to be one of the many people President Trump will try to sue for writing about him, but with my lack of resources that might be a losing cause. I would likely end up in prison, in another wing near the one holding all the women who accused Trump of groping them. (Did that actually happen? I don't know, but I do know that what makes it believable is Trump's own voice on tape. Maybe they made it all up. Of course, it's also possible that his hair crawls off his head in the middle of the night and prowls around biting women.)<br />
<br />
On the other hand, spending my remaining years in prison might actually pass for a retirement plan before this adventure is over. feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-63391196234471085352016-03-24T03:00:00.000-07:002016-05-09T17:11:20.599-07:00A Little Standup Comedy For Good Friday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH7TqP_GBdHYJxuPmydb4vc7dMTYaeXAauy7mkOZ9bfr6TiaAl6TUT5k-B3c6k2ozA2093IwW_fuYIEh_Q03VHaRcHQ5j9qnJxU4wtn4sPIuggu-JG9uaJntSNOfNEQ-fKdiob3gHJMVc/s1600/standup+jesus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH7TqP_GBdHYJxuPmydb4vc7dMTYaeXAauy7mkOZ9bfr6TiaAl6TUT5k-B3c6k2ozA2093IwW_fuYIEh_Q03VHaRcHQ5j9qnJxU4wtn4sPIuggu-JG9uaJntSNOfNEQ-fKdiob3gHJMVc/s1600/standup+jesus.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-39768852682291332682016-03-10T12:21:00.000-08:002016-03-10T12:21:39.507-08:00My Life As Currently Constructed<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Block Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Hyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="FollowedHyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Document Map"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Plain Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="E-mail Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Top of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Bottom of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal (Web)"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Acronym"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Address"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Cite"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Code"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Definition"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Keyboard"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Preformatted"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Sample"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Typewriter"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Variable"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal Table"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="annotation subject"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="No List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Contemporary"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Elegant"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Professional"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Balloon Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Theme"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" QFormat="true"
Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="41" Name="Plain Table 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="42" Name="Plain Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="43" Name="Plain Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="44" Name="Plain Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="45" Name="Plain Table 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="40" Name="Grid Table Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="Grid Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="List Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="List Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="List Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span>I
really am going to try to write some new pieces here in the coming months.
Really. I would swear to God, but...you know. Whatever. But I think if I’m
going to call myself a writer, which I’ve occasionally done on resumes and
stuff to make it look like I did anything constructive from 2009-2014, I should
probably write something now and again.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span>To
be honest, as you might judge from my paltry few posts the last three years,
I’m more TV watcher than writer these days, living in <i>Walking Dead </i>world most of the time now, but also a watcher who
takes regular breaks to go survey people on the telephone. These surveys mostly
involve the political opinions of Republican voters. The striking thing about
this odd dual life is that neither half of it seems to be genuinely weirder
than the other right now. In one, the world is full of dead people walking
around trying to eat the living; in the other,<span>
</span>Donald Trump is the front-runner for the Republican presidential
nomination. I think the word <i>dystopia </i>was
coined with one of these scenarios in mind, but I can’t for the life of me
remember which one.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span>Oops.
I’m getting into opinions here. We’ll need this:</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPggbt4A9z2_QULV6TYTDdZvtL7wof5c-oTw_jPnFU9Sg0i0U4dcU7HU9pETRwxUiamyhDqP9eSLa7dsW2zTAnfZx1EayOoAYsjYjImBP_Es5KkxU9DHQPr7AdCcFKJ9OmkAkSEZZwlNo/s1600/new+ed.GIF" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPggbt4A9z2_QULV6TYTDdZvtL7wof5c-oTw_jPnFU9Sg0i0U4dcU7HU9pETRwxUiamyhDqP9eSLa7dsW2zTAnfZx1EayOoAYsjYjImBP_Es5KkxU9DHQPr7AdCcFKJ9OmkAkSEZZwlNo/s1600/new+ed.GIF" /></a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span>In
any case, one story involves a ragtag group struggling for survival in a world
that’s come to be ruled by mindless, flesh-hungry zombies and remorseless
people who will take everything they can from the weak and defenseless, while
the other...</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span>The
other appears on AMC on Sunday nights.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span>Actually,
the emergence of Donald Trump, potential president, seems like nothing more
than a joke from one of those stupid 80’s movies or TV shows set in “the
future,” where they make some absurd reference to someone in the public
consciousness at the time. Something from, say, <i>Robocop </i>or <i>Back To The Future
II. </i>Or, I don’t know, <i>Holmes &
YoYo.</i><span> </span>Maybe a funny reference to the
Chicago Cubs winning the series, or a gag about Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span>Wait,
what? That really happened? I mean the Governor thing, not the Cubs. Let’s not
get ridiculous.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span>Now
I am frightened. Just more on Tuesday nights than on Sundays.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoBodyText">
<span style="font-size: small;">But I don’t just watch election returns and zombie shows
exclusively, mind you. For one thing, I did watch most of the recent NFL
season, which I was only able to do by giving up the pleasure of calling people
on “The Lord’s Day” to do political surveys, a mortal sin and a stain on my
soul that I decided I could live without. I replaced that bag of fun with the
sublime pleasure of watching Peyton Manning complete enough of those wobbly
little turds he throws to win a Super Bowl. Honestly, the man throws turds. He
tosses the ball out there like he’s letting go of a balloon, and you think
about four guys will be waiting to intercept it. And somehow it’s complete for
20 yards. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span>To
heighten the experience, these events are<span>
</span>interspersed with Peyton’s periodic attempts to sell me his shitty
pizza, which appears to feature little turds of its own.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span>And
those commercials, of course, are themselves interspersed with drug company ads
attempting to sell me pills for the erectile dysfunction that they would like
me to consider having. Maybe if they repeat the words often enough? Repetition
sells, right?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoBodyText2">
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>She’s always been the one for you. And she’s still pretty
hot. But you can’t get it up. You just can’t. Can’t, can’t, can’t. What’s wrong
with you? There must be something wrong with you. Something seriously wrong
with you. When the moment is right, but something is wrong with you...</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span>Fortunately,
these ads come with text at the bottom of the screen: various disclaimers,
reminders of all the sexually transmitted diseases the product doesn’t prevent
or cure, and warnings of possible side effects. These not only put me off sex
entirely, negating the need for help, they actually provide some amusement. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span>I
see it’s been observed and documented that a man, in “rare” cases, may
experience a rash, a swelling of the tongue and/or lips, and difficulty
breathing after taking this particular drug. When I see these warnings, I
cannot help but imagine the not-quite-middle-aged couple on my screen, the
handsome, distinguished man and his still modestly attractive wife, right at
that magic moment of consummation, about to join as one and share the greatest
gift ever created; they owe this bliss to, and no doubt their marriage has been
saved by, the wonders of modern chemistry and its agent, the altruistic and
selfless drug company.<span> </span>Heaven awaits
them. They disrobe, reach lovingly for each other, and...</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span>With
nary a warning, the handsome, distinguished man breaks out in every possible
side effect at once. His face suddenly erupting in oozing red pustules, his
lips swelling monstrously, his tongue blowing up like a puffer fish in his
mouth, he clutches uncomprehendingly at his throat...and from somewhere deep in
his chest comes a ghastly bubbling and wheezing sound, like “eehhhh uhhhhh,
eehhhh uhhhhh.” Almost like a donkey braying, actually. A faint gurgling
ensues; the man topples to his left, bounces once off the bed and falls away
offscreen with a sickening thud. Woman screams. Fade to black.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span>I
find this image terribly, terribly funny. Then again, I am a sick, sick person.
I will make no apologies for this, as I am merely a product of my environment.
In my environment, zombies rule. Zombies, and Donald Trump. So the world keeps
telling me, over and over.<span> </span>The world is
obviously trying to die, and I’m inclined to let it. And watch on TV. That’s
me, that’s my life.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span>As
currently constructed.</span></span></div>
feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-36422530386035070282016-03-03T14:00:00.002-08:002016-03-03T14:00:56.945-08:00A Walking Dead Spoiler<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-30578025500528902422014-08-20T12:37:00.000-07:002014-08-20T12:37:17.245-07:00The Joys of Arbitrary MilestonesI see now looking at the stats for this endeavor called <i>Killed By Fish </i>that I have reached a milestone--I have passed 100,000 pageviews over the life of this blog. Yay for me, right?<br />
Well, yeah. I suppose. Actually, now that I think about it, the number is the fairly arbitrary result of the fact that human beings mostly count in base ten and that figuring in other bases results in a rather unexceptional string of digits. And the whole thing, our modern number system, is the result of having ten digits on our hands, which is probably a frozen accident of evolution. Considering how many people do just fine with fewer digits, ten is probably on the high side of usefulness; the quantity could easily have been less.<br />
And of course there's not really anything <i>that </i>special about the number zero. In fact, through much of human history, it was not even realized that zero <i>was </i>a number, although that certainly opened things up from a conceptual mathematical standpoint.<br />
And you never know--one of these days a bunch of mathematicians could get together for a big conference, take a vote, and decide zero isn't a number anymore.<br />
Still, though, I'm going to pretend it's important, at least for a day or two, and try to ignore the painful fact that I've been getting more hits than ever the past few months despite not having posted a damn thing. I'm sure it doesn't mean anything.<br />
Second prize is <i>two </i>weeks in Philadelphia.<br />
Anyway...apologies, though, for not posting, to anyone who might actually be checking to see if I'm writing anything these days. The answer is "not much." I'm busy, sort of, with a new job conducting political surveys over the telephone with random strangers. It's not hard work, but if there's one thing I've learned about random strangers it's that they often behave in strange, random ways. And some states in this union behave like one big collective jerk. The other day there was one state (I won't name names, let's just call him <i>Arizona</i>) was acting such a jackass I wanted to send it back to the shithole factory.<br />
I'll write about this more, maybe, in days to come. I feel the need to write a parody of the sorts of surveys I conduct, particularly those hideous animals known as <i>push polls. </i>Disguised as a scientific survey, they are actually campaign ads; the questions slam one of the candidates repeatedly, not just to gauge the respondent's reaction to test issues, but to actually sway their opinions, and often done in the most heavy-handed way.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b> And if you learned that Candidate B was a farmer who frequently enjoyed carnal knowledge of his barnyard sows, would you be MORE LIKELY, or LESS LIKELY, to vote for the pigfucker?</b><br />
<br />
But such is life. Mostly I think of it as reading aloud, which it pretty much is. Better not to think. Better not to think! That approach allows me to do my job without having to face the fact that my idiot country is doomed, doomed to a bleak future of ignorant, unreasoning fear; fear of people who think differently, who put forward dangerous new ideas like math.<br />
Yeah. More later. Shit, there's an off-year <i>election </i>coming up. Doomed. Shit.<br />
My spellchecker has informed me that "pigfucker" is <i>not in dictionary. </i>We'll see about <i>that.</i>feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-74056942056950329792014-03-02T15:32:00.001-08:002023-06-07T17:21:12.789-07:00Astrology For Dumbasses<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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</xml><![endif]--><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6g0_cfBsYgcND-UiATr9eJZLZ9r0AG99VValzEv7O7MKGOnyyGm2LtX3iTLHGO8V8KQD9Ym8t2Jpo8CUJtgFbOYtEGHO8JrMhIvhnfvxHFPFXZL8UU2Z32MDtrnOL7y0CMdB-m_Nzj5m2b-RpUEnyH3oc_NhhLGO6IwubYwnWxWHxDHrIasadD5uR/s974/horoscope%20magnets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="974" data-original-width="610" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6g0_cfBsYgcND-UiATr9eJZLZ9r0AG99VValzEv7O7MKGOnyyGm2LtX3iTLHGO8V8KQD9Ym8t2Jpo8CUJtgFbOYtEGHO8JrMhIvhnfvxHFPFXZL8UU2Z32MDtrnOL7y0CMdB-m_Nzj5m2b-RpUEnyH3oc_NhhLGO6IwubYwnWxWHxDHrIasadD5uR/w402-h640/horoscope%20magnets.jpg" width="402" /></a></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">It is estimated that every year, Americans spend hundreds of millions of dollars on horoscopes and astrological forecasts. This proves that no matter which constellation the sun is in, or which planet is rising in whatever house, there is, in fact, "a sucker born every minute."</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">How Horoscopes Work</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">Many, if not most, people who read their horoscopes will tell you that they only do so for entertainment purposes and don't actually give any creedence to the forecasts. But many of those same people will also tell you that they "know lots of people who really fit their descriptions." You may be familiar with those descriptions yourself--people born under the sign of Taurus are bull-headed, Capricorns are stubborn goats, etc. etc. etc. And lots of people believe they fit their own signs especially well.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">How do astrologers achieve such uncanny accuracy? By making the descriptions generic, often contradictory (you enjoy people but also need to be alone sometimes, right?) and by filling them with things people want to believe about themselves. Tell someone that people of their sign are independent thinkers yet they value the insight of others while remaining true to their ideals but very adaptable, and most everyone will go "Yeah! That's me! I'm terrific like that!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifWCxWuAwiynPw_1eN9Ci2-PZF1XCi82Nb76O34m6MYeYQYGo3JBC8iD6XYHaipblVdfHmmX7xy7NocqRjW4j-tTYVY5e_mG5a1WjzsxA_RW79JyvdTjUM8Xflcp2CR8ktcim0qt4lZZIMRwqH9LrLdIHDGESr1hBB0MuwOWDZxyP6tHcv12oFzju4/s491/reading-newspaper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="347" data-original-width="491" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifWCxWuAwiynPw_1eN9Ci2-PZF1XCi82Nb76O34m6MYeYQYGo3JBC8iD6XYHaipblVdfHmmX7xy7NocqRjW4j-tTYVY5e_mG5a1WjzsxA_RW79JyvdTjUM8Xflcp2CR8ktcim0qt4lZZIMRwqH9LrLdIHDGESr1hBB0MuwOWDZxyP6tHcv12oFzju4/w400-h283/reading-newspaper.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"> "My greatness is written in the stars, just like I always said!"</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">From there, you need only make up some daily predictions involving sex or money, pulled not from the stars but from Uranus (sorry), and let confirmation bias do the rest of the work. No one will remember all those days you predicted sudden wealth or romance that didn't happen; they'll certainly remember that time you warned of impending catastrophe and they cut off a toe.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt3VOKVsr8PXYkOVn6uHxg_TySQwBfXzizWvA0iupzjwRcW5XENqPCY7a8v0ZfuwYa8TKViPdVAYaXAkufNAW1oc78GyOnjXY_xVtTp2Ek7-QXQgD9D1bli0yq_g0LBaqCTWTtm0XwXHZTS1mw2M4RX30sgfCPsWTN7qrNhuw41UJanKVTL9gs0Qhq/s462/phone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="425" data-original-width="462" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt3VOKVsr8PXYkOVn6uHxg_TySQwBfXzizWvA0iupzjwRcW5XENqPCY7a8v0ZfuwYa8TKViPdVAYaXAkufNAW1oc78GyOnjXY_xVtTp2Ek7-QXQgD9D1bli0yq_g0LBaqCTWTtm0XwXHZTS1mw2M4RX30sgfCPsWTN7qrNhuw41UJanKVTL9gs0Qhq/s320/phone.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">"I've been thinking about you for weeks and suddenly you call! We must have a psychic connection!"</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">How We Ever Got Such a Dumb Idea</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">The human brain evolved to find patterns in nature and extrapolate them into the future. That is the key to our success as a species. Unfortunately, the brain can never be a perfect instrument for apprehending reality; mistakes will happen. And if there is a way for evolution to select for brains that tend to make less costly mistakes, it will.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">There is, and it did. Because a false positive in pattern recognition (seeing a pattern in randomness) is usually less costly than a false negative (failing to see a real pattern), our brains have evolved to err on the side of false positives. In short, it's safer to think a rain dance works than it is to miss the fact that everyone who drank from that pond died the next day.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">Or, to put it another way, failing to see the tiger's face hidden in the bushes will kill you. Seeing the face of Jesus on your taco will not. So your brain tries really hard to see patterns in everything, because the penalty for missing the real ones is too stiff.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHr0B0I5f9fupY8zYQhwONejSYrCABPJ1gxooUsXjVnKzfVcyUlJMs1E9gKdAjIx3suactw_cOlIssBlYclxrTmYuqHZRk3yT9UO5EuH4_TiU8jsCDB0vJFWUOGyelNR2t_N-JPYuQx059Zhk1biU3Tix6wnQ6AnArCxxJXXrSm6wnam2UktPvMVrT/s388/tiger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="346" data-original-width="388" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHr0B0I5f9fupY8zYQhwONejSYrCABPJ1gxooUsXjVnKzfVcyUlJMs1E9gKdAjIx3suactw_cOlIssBlYclxrTmYuqHZRk3yT9UO5EuH4_TiU8jsCDB0vJFWUOGyelNR2t_N-JPYuQx059Zhk1biU3Tix6wnQ6AnArCxxJXXrSm6wnam2UktPvMVrT/s320/tiger.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">You have thirty seconds to live.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUBwTdeTGuumP5SFjKDg3ripfn5jH4HUmSDjY9gJd5gw9CDAyO81Okd1RzeDR34PwjGRpwOTr3ExLCEcUIRmnNuO6eZyE6p-JUBtAqKspURB0n9r3RZpfelOhd3asw8TcM78Y7u-Hjk4tjhEQX3KzrPuUvmI_OrkcjFrCiNJDZXuzM3TyLY8oFeP6Z/s411/jesus%20fishstick.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="411" data-original-width="374" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUBwTdeTGuumP5SFjKDg3ripfn5jH4HUmSDjY9gJd5gw9CDAyO81Okd1RzeDR34PwjGRpwOTr3ExLCEcUIRmnNuO6eZyE6p-JUBtAqKspURB0n9r3RZpfelOhd3asw8TcM78Y7u-Hjk4tjhEQX3KzrPuUvmI_OrkcjFrCiNJDZXuzM3TyLY8oFeP6Z/s320/jesus%20fishstick.jpg" width="291" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">You have thirty seconds to eat this before it gets cold.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">So, of course, when ancient man looked up into the sky at all those stars, it was perfectly natural to connect the dots, seeing archers, fish, guys with buckets, and all manner of fantastic beasts. And then to see patterns in the positions of the sun and moon and planets that correllated with stuff happening around them.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Sympathetic Magic</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Or, "Carrying Your Analogy a Little Too Far"</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">Okay, so you've got a bunch of people and animals populating your sky. You look at the stretch of sky through which the sun and planets appear to travel, note which sky critters they appear to be near, and try to find meaning in those juxtapositions.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">Obviously, the particular critter in that part of the sky must have some symbolic meaning, right? If the sun was among a certain collection of stars (which you imagine to be, say, a crab) at the time of your birth, you must have crab-like traits, right? So obviously you are the type of person who hides away in a shell, yada yada yada. Gemini, the twins? Right, split personality.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhuVGtoXGGK8jav_Ve1l2dNTMsgOVXGO5NRRvpBSmjMcOKQyf_99558oLlSqaTpGLiNhUr9agyhHC7EvyvV-99qruCaLepgcUX0Nks7LreR1ZY4dL6GNTCHvEujLQoakcUiEwD2yp1BBzjA7pflM7uAcDyMwi8gMhHpUIAVnrXOcK3B6VRNcaCQBtV/s806/scorpion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="806" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhuVGtoXGGK8jav_Ve1l2dNTMsgOVXGO5NRRvpBSmjMcOKQyf_99558oLlSqaTpGLiNhUr9agyhHC7EvyvV-99qruCaLepgcUX0Nks7LreR1ZY4dL6GNTCHvEujLQoakcUiEwD2yp1BBzjA7pflM7uAcDyMwi8gMhHpUIAVnrXOcK3B6VRNcaCQBtV/s320/scorpion.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">"You have an exoskeleton, and live in an underground burrow, where you will find true love. "</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">This is a version of sympathetic magic, a belief that traits apparent in one object can be magically transferred to another, or to you. It's like believing that eating a whale's gigantic dick will cure your impotence. Unfortunately, science has proven that this sort of belief will only result in being asked to plug in the vibrator on your way out of the room.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0pj-JQ5wQZkkbv7UMB1qJ_K5J13G-uu8dxFfU-ECPipWUusGSMJOWjO0e9AeaTBfeWgp6O9AAD5HHItEWWc5JGH80Jx0mu5or3F5vIZoFXVoNenOHnIlYuji_V_mFTuokxOkmnzD6KFF4ncFEZoaQ7hKqOu4uuTV2uIwoJ9raiVHC_j6R12ofSu5T/s527/446908.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="527" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0pj-JQ5wQZkkbv7UMB1qJ_K5J13G-uu8dxFfU-ECPipWUusGSMJOWjO0e9AeaTBfeWgp6O9AAD5HHItEWWc5JGH80Jx0mu5or3F5vIZoFXVoNenOHnIlYuji_V_mFTuokxOkmnzD6KFF4ncFEZoaQ7hKqOu4uuTV2uIwoJ9raiVHC_j6R12ofSu5T/w400-h258/446908.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Not only that, but it will taste like whale dick.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">One Other Little Problem</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">Astrologers continue to fail to account for precession of the equinoxes, a "wobble" in the earth's rotation that affects the apparent position of the sun relative to the stars. The sun appears in a different part of the sky for any given date than it did when astrologers first laid out the zodiac and determined the "signs" still in use today. So, for example, if you were born on July 4, your sign is "Cancer," despite the fact that the sun is in the constellation of Gemini on that date. This means that when you check your horoscope, not only are you reading a horseshit prediction, you're reading the wrong horseshit prediction.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUdttT7LORKkZil1VUsRo0CPFsI_3xvGp0vb-YfsCVJmwihX_l0o6auYC9rcVJsQaF0Z5tqGDATwnxypFamBiWI5ZmI50lgZUJJ5GAhVZD7mWwp2iNoQ6zKZ4-QLGFmB4NUViBPfwAdgFn25fFQDs7tr43kuqyybCxocz9oKA4a1M5QlKj9UzVhttw/s385/astrologer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="261" data-original-width="385" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUdttT7LORKkZil1VUsRo0CPFsI_3xvGp0vb-YfsCVJmwihX_l0o6auYC9rcVJsQaF0Z5tqGDATwnxypFamBiWI5ZmI50lgZUJJ5GAhVZD7mWwp2iNoQ6zKZ4-QLGFmB4NUViBPfwAdgFn25fFQDs7tr43kuqyybCxocz9oKA4a1M5QlKj9UzVhttw/w400-h271/astrologer.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">"I read your chart right, but you were standing under the wrong sky."</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>
feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-78081461280917152014-01-31T13:03:00.000-08:002014-01-31T13:03:08.331-08:00My Groundhog's DayI've been watching too much TV.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0YFvl5HXtkUH6C_EIE6rdQuZ52b4oLU6zL-Ws-K_uRudhsNbN_q8fggo55SLkFaeilyePwXqXAPeGnztxzu_009Ts4Up2Nw8lGrwWBoiQ7A1ruUHSb_nL-4kYYvD7ROZri53G9sAmab0/s1600/my+groundhogs+day.GIF" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0YFvl5HXtkUH6C_EIE6rdQuZ52b4oLU6zL-Ws-K_uRudhsNbN_q8fggo55SLkFaeilyePwXqXAPeGnztxzu_009Ts4Up2Nw8lGrwWBoiQ7A1ruUHSb_nL-4kYYvD7ROZri53G9sAmab0/s1600/my+groundhogs+day.GIF" /></a></div>
<br />feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146542270104303648.post-20770351518977163122014-01-23T13:25:00.000-08:002014-01-23T13:25:04.906-08:00Forgive Them, Lord, For They Know Not How To Spell<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFrKco5nNf-azddjLZ6BXqzVJHECo0K3VOdtUIj5gDkNMCtSVMMNLiIjtNHuRQYKOxDzd3JRSsgFrDXxrLRkw9hOkKi01sdoeLLPS4b8dAab1f0ivgNe018oUr1HfDIMgLnTX5MkwleCc/s1600/sundays.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFrKco5nNf-azddjLZ6BXqzVJHECo0K3VOdtUIj5gDkNMCtSVMMNLiIjtNHuRQYKOxDzd3JRSsgFrDXxrLRkw9hOkKi01sdoeLLPS4b8dAab1f0ivgNe018oUr1HfDIMgLnTX5MkwleCc/s1600/sundays.JPG" /></a></div>
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Okay, I suppose technically that's a punctuation error, not a spelling error (the apostrophe isn't needed, kids; that designates a possessive rather than the plural <i>Sundays </i>that I think you wanted). Maybe I'm just nitpicking, but next time hire a professional. Oh wait, you did?<br />
Maybe they have a good excuse. Maybe it's just residual confusion left over from that whole Tower of Babel thing, but really, this is plain English! And since, as we all know, Jesus was a white guy who spoke impeccable English, I'm not sure there are any truly mitigating circumstances.<br />
The grinning doof is Wayne Cordeiro, who stars in an early morning religious show called <i>New Hope. </i>Again, nitpicking, but hope is a morally neutral concept; one can hope for bad things to happen. I'm not sure the vague concept of hope is something an upright citizen like Wayne should really be standing by.<br />
Wayne, as he keeps telling me, believes that "inside the heart of every man and woman is a dream of what you can be for God." We'll leave aside the fact that the heart has little role in producing dreams and give the man some credit for standing steadfastly behind beliefs that are obviously not true. Such faith! Considering the number of atheists, Buddhists, and others in this country who don't believe in the reality of God, I think he's reaching a bit. Every man and woman? Nah.<br />
As for me, the last time I dreamed about God, the all-knowing Creator of the Universe was telling me I needed to take the beautiful baby boy I was cradling in my arms down to the churchyard and bury him. I tried to point out that the baby wasn't actually dead, but Almighty Father would have none of it, "for he is sickly and must be laid to rest." Uh, yeah. I'll get right on that.<br />
I must confess, though, that I've never actually seen Wayne's show, just the promos that saturate at least one of my available airwaves. Hey, it's on at 6:30 in the morning. As a great man once said, "I'm not even done throwing up at that hour."feralboy12http://www.blogger.com/profile/08418361145990032090noreply@blogger.com0