Random Stuff L: Leftover Snark Edition
The Union of Concerned Scientists has compiled a guide to interference by US government agencies in communicating science to policymakers and to the American public, from 2001 to the present. Besides the eye-catching, but poorly organized, periodic table view, you can browse the extensive list alphabetically or by subject. I only wish the timeline went back into the 20th century. Distortion of science by US government officials is hardly unique to the GWB administration, though admittedly the past eight years have seen unusually frequent and brazen political attacks on scientific facts.
You know what you don't hear references to very often? "North Dakota wine country." It's just as well: I'm very particular about my North Dakota wines.
My newest T-shirt. I can't wait to wear it at Cedar Point, weekend destination for every Baptist church youth group in the Midwest.
I usually try not to poke fun at anyone's personal appearance, but I'm prepared to make one exception. I think it would be great fun if Céline Dion and Ann Coulter locked horns in an apocalyptic battle to determine, once and for all, who is the more horse-faced. No holds barred. Whinny take all. I'd gladly pay US $200 and airfare to Las Vegas to witness the spectacle-from a safe distance, of course. Maybe three or four miles. I'd even buy a camcorder just so I could post videos to Flicka.
We already know that Ann Coulter has lessons with Satan on how to be more evil (though who knows how much she charges him*), so I have no qualms about directing petty insults in her direction. On the other hand, I actually don't have anything against Céline Dion, in general. I don't mind her music, primarily because I am isolated enough from pop culture that I wouldn't even recognize it. But-and this is a heavy but-anyone who commits a musical atrocity of this magnitude has, by anyone's criteria, made herself fair game for ridicule. Both the Bible and the Geneva Convention have injunctions prohibiting this sort of activity, I recall. (*Ripped off from Emo Philips.)
When we compare quantities expressed as fractions, but don't really care what units the denominator is expressed in, we can make the comparison on a "per unit" basis. An example is the quantity of edible protein per unit land area as a measure of agricultural yield. We can also measure CO2 emissions per unit energy, force per unit area, &c., &c.
Now consider the saying, "It's not the size of the sword-it's how you wield it." A man's prowess as a lover, relative to the size of his genitalia, should obviously be measured per unit unit.
I think my post-Utah-visit snarkiness vis-à-vis the crazier side of the Mormon Church has finally wound down, but I can't resist this parting shot. This online store is the Latter-day Saint's answer to the Burqini. At first glance, there is nothing extraordinary about the dresses for sale, apart from their drab, angel-white color. But one thing stands out about the catalogue of links at the left: there is no section for maternity dresses! They're there, all right, but to save on redundancy they were given the category name "Women's." Notice how most of the women's dresses look a bit like nightclothes? That's right: lots of extra room in the abdominal section. At first I thought they'd been cleverly crafted so that they could be worn at any time during a pregnancy. Perfect for someone who expects to be "showing" five months of every year, but who is thrifty enough not to want a vast selection of maternity clothes. But then I thought that maybe that line of dresses was exclusively designed to be worn during what might be indelicately called the "beached whale phase." If so, then why use models who aren't pregnant-or even menopausal? It is truly one of God's mysteries.
You know what you don't hear references to very often? "North Dakota wine country." It's just as well: I'm very particular about my North Dakota wines.
My newest T-shirt. I can't wait to wear it at Cedar Point, weekend destination for every Baptist church youth group in the Midwest.
I usually try not to poke fun at anyone's personal appearance, but I'm prepared to make one exception. I think it would be great fun if Céline Dion and Ann Coulter locked horns in an apocalyptic battle to determine, once and for all, who is the more horse-faced. No holds barred. Whinny take all. I'd gladly pay US $200 and airfare to Las Vegas to witness the spectacle-from a safe distance, of course. Maybe three or four miles. I'd even buy a camcorder just so I could post videos to Flicka.
We already know that Ann Coulter has lessons with Satan on how to be more evil (though who knows how much she charges him*), so I have no qualms about directing petty insults in her direction. On the other hand, I actually don't have anything against Céline Dion, in general. I don't mind her music, primarily because I am isolated enough from pop culture that I wouldn't even recognize it. But-and this is a heavy but-anyone who commits a musical atrocity of this magnitude has, by anyone's criteria, made herself fair game for ridicule. Both the Bible and the Geneva Convention have injunctions prohibiting this sort of activity, I recall. (*Ripped off from Emo Philips.)
When we compare quantities expressed as fractions, but don't really care what units the denominator is expressed in, we can make the comparison on a "per unit" basis. An example is the quantity of edible protein per unit land area as a measure of agricultural yield. We can also measure CO2 emissions per unit energy, force per unit area, &c., &c.
Now consider the saying, "It's not the size of the sword-it's how you wield it." A man's prowess as a lover, relative to the size of his genitalia, should obviously be measured per unit unit.
I think my post-Utah-visit snarkiness vis-à-vis the crazier side of the Mormon Church has finally wound down, but I can't resist this parting shot. This online store is the Latter-day Saint's answer to the Burqini. At first glance, there is nothing extraordinary about the dresses for sale, apart from their drab, angel-white color. But one thing stands out about the catalogue of links at the left: there is no section for maternity dresses! They're there, all right, but to save on redundancy they were given the category name "Women's." Notice how most of the women's dresses look a bit like nightclothes? That's right: lots of extra room in the abdominal section. At first I thought they'd been cleverly crafted so that they could be worn at any time during a pregnancy. Perfect for someone who expects to be "showing" five months of every year, but who is thrifty enough not to want a vast selection of maternity clothes. But then I thought that maybe that line of dresses was exclusively designed to be worn during what might be indelicately called the "beached whale phase." If so, then why use models who aren't pregnant-or even menopausal? It is truly one of God's mysteries.