Archive for March, 2007


Rent A Gun? Seriously?

Did you know you can rent a gun in Indianapolis?


I’m Not Cool Enough To Pretend This Isn’t Exciting…

  Wired.com’s Table of Malcontents is one of my favorite blogs, and one of the few that I make sure to read every day. (RSS rules.) ToM celebrated last week’s Steak and a Blowjob day with a contest to let readers create a holiday of their own, and a winner was me!

  I proposed Flame Shame Day, an annual day when people who post nasty comments on blogs and message boards are required to spend one minute thinking about how their snarkity affects the people it’s directed against. The ToM staff liked the idea, and they’re sending me a card to celebrate.

  Even if you don’t want to read my winning entry, you should still check out Table of Malcontents. Odd, interesting, amusing and amazing nuggets from the farthest corners of the Internets are always on the ToM menu. Enjoy! LBB commands it!

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Apocalyptic Germ Watch:

Item 1 – Tuberculosis infection rates are falling worldwide. Except, of course, for those pesky COMPLETELY UNTREATABLE STRAINS.

Item 2 – The medieval menace known as the plague is making a comeback. Added bonus, it may be on the verge of developing RESISTANCE TO ANTIBIOTICS.

  I’ll be in the basement, hoarding food, water and ammunition.


Heil Straw Man

Dear Little Bald Bastard,
  What’s your favorite logical fallacy?
- Armchair Skeptic

Dear Armchair Skeptic,
  I’m a big fan of ad hominem attacks. You nazi shithead.

[x-posted from Ask The Little Bald Bastard]

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Tales from The Blue Line

  Spotted on the Blue Line on Friday afternoon: Blow-dried, hair-gelled preppy douchebag. Reading The Secret. With a highlighter.

  In case you’ve missed the latest bee in Oprah’s metaphysical bonnet, The Secret is a new self-help book/DVD that purports to contain a “secret” that successful people have been keeping for years. Apparently, you can influence the Universe to give you literally anything you want, as long as you want it hard enough. This proposition is supported by a sprinkling of quotes from famously successful people, such as successful anti-semite Henry Ford, and the guy who “wrote” the Chicken Soup for The Soul books. Also, the pages have been weathered with highly sophisticated dyes, for that “ancient tome” look. Nothing says authenticity like artificially yellowed paper.

  A typical scene from the DVD shows a little boy drawing a picture of a bike over and over again. This illustrates just how hard the boy wants that particular bike. Then, he opens his front door, and a smiling old man is standing there with the same exact bike the little boy drew, minus the shaky grasp of proportion and perspective in the crayon doodles. Curiously enough, the toothy gentleman (grandpa, molester, or both?) is absent from the drawings. I hope that doesn’t mean that every wish the Universe grants also comes with a complimentary smiling septuagenarian. You’d think there’d be a disclaimer about that.

  The real secret, of course, is this. In addition to being another spoonful of the pseudo-inspirational pablum that Oprah force-feeds her viewers, The Secret is an absolutely perfect scam. Think about it. Tell the preppy douchebag that he can have anything his heart desires, as long as he just wants it fervently enough. If he gets what he wants, then it worked! High five! If his wish doesn’t come true, then it’s his fault. He obviously didn’t want it hard enough.

  It’s classic. If you win, they win. If you lose, they still win, because they can blame you for your failure. You didn’t get that promotion? Your husband is still seeing that Brazilian hooker? Grandma’s still in that wheelchair, wearing those diapers? You didn’t get your crudely drawn crayon bike? Too bad! The system works. You just didn’t do it right.

  Guess what? Life sometimes sucks, and no one every gets everything they want. The real secret is that there’s no psycho-babble trick to wring tasty treats out of the Universe. The Universe is not Domino’s Pizza; it doesn’t deliver. You’ll get what you want (or not) like the rest of us, through varying proportions of work and luck. If wishing super-hard for something really made it happen, your daughter’s room would be full of unicorn shit.

  By the way, The Secret obviously isn’t working for Mr. Blow-dried, hair-gelled preppy douchebag. Under all that shellac, his hair is still thinning.

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