Forgive Me Father For I Have Sinned
I am virtualizing Windows to run OneNote. I feel dirty.
Aug
26
2009
Aug
12
2009
Don’t worry, Hunter - you’re not alone. Law school? Law school? I’m hearing it too.The First Rule of J-School Is You Don’t Talk About J-School Debt
Everyone I know in media keeps telling me I’m crazy for doing this. Though I remain confident in my decision to go to j-school, it’s hard not to get cold feet. I showed up to orientation today hoping to hear something that would ease my fears.
[via Gawker]
What else is there? Doctors are doing great these days, right alongside journalists and lawyers. It’s a great time to be a teacher, too. Guess there’s no place in America for professionals anymore.
At least if you go the entrepreneurial route, you’ll have one cheap lawyer to help out.
Aug
11
2009
I'm Technically "In Between Things"
At least until Monday. -sigh- Hard to believe I’m leaving Consumerist. Guess I’ll have to update here more often?
Jul
29
2009
A commenter in the threads brings up an interesting point: some of the most racist, sexist, and obnoxious comments come from FB Connect users who post these things using their real names, with a picture of their face and a link to their FB page attached to their profile. I often hear it argued that anonymity makes it easier for people to be assholes on line—and this is true, to a certain extent—but the FB connect experiment shows that sometimes, assholes are just assholes, and they don’t care if you know it.
And it is nice to occasionally know who’s panning your work. Several of my government posts were plagued by a Facebook commenter who would rile up everyone with his vile extremist bullshit. Thanks to Facebook, I know he’s a high school senior from Missouri.
We expect our commenters to audition, not just show up. This is the only way to make the kiddies line up for their turn in the pool.
Jul
25
2009
I bought a basil plant last December to keep me company. I named him Basily, but what I lacked in creative naming I made up for with meticulous care. This is Basily today, still happy and healthy down in Wellington. Keep reaching, little friend!
Jul
22
2009
Jul
21
2009
The Auckland City Council has cancelled its monthly meeting because it has nothing to talk about.It’s like a headline out of Sim City. (Also, Dominion Post, punctuation goes inside the quotation marks. Yes, inside.)In an email to media, a democracy coordinator said the meeting had been cancelled “due to a lack of business”.
Jul
20
2009
The new issue of The Onion is terrific.
It’s even full of exciting fish-sponsored mythology!Go read the Sold Out to China issue now, especially this opinion piece from Jimmy MacDonalds, “American Children Like Me Are Lazy And Insolent And Must Try Harder:”
Yao Ming, who at 28 will soon be the only active player ever to be inducted into the NBA Hall of Fame, learned to play basketball when he was 3 years old after finding an untamed cobra in the mountains, a cobra of ancient legend whose very breath was poisonous. The cobra was taller than a full-grown tree, and beat Yao in one-on-one basketball competition every day for 19 straight years. Then, the very night before their final game, Yao prayed deeply to his ancestors and ingested more than 20 pounds of Yu Wan Mei fish by-products, and behold! Yao grew three feet while he slept.Yao beat the cobra 11-0 the following morning, beheaded it with a great spear, fashioned a graceful sailing vessel from its colossal body, and rode this vessel across the Pacific Ocean to play professional basketball in the United States. There, Yao Ming became leader of the Rockets after receiving the Mandate of Heaven from previous team captain Hakeem Olajuwon.
Jul
15
2009
On April 3, 1956, according to news reports, a Mrs. Julia Chase of Hagerstown, Maryland, while on a tour of the White House, slipped away from her tour group and vanished into the heart of the building. For four and a half hours, Mrs. Chase, who was described later as “disheveled, vague and not quite lucid,” wandered through the White House, setting small fires - five in all. That’s how tight security was in those days: a not-quite-lucid woman was able to roam unnoticed through the executive mansion for more than half a working day. You can imagine the response if anyone tried anything like that now: the instantaneous alarms, the scrambled Air Force jets, the SWAT teams dropping from panels in the ceiling, the tanks rolling across the lawns, the ninety minutes of sustained gunfire pouring into the target area, the lavish awarding of medals of bravery afterward, including posthumously to the seventy-six people in Virginia and eastern Maryland killed by friendly fire. In 1956, Mrs. Chase, when found, was taken to the staff kitchen, given a cup of tea, and released into the custody of her family, and no one ever heard from her again.
Bill Bryson, The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid.
Jul
14
2009
The headlands and broken bays, with the rough, steep mountains coming sheer down into the blue waters. The closeness of the land, and the narrowness of the passages, all tend to create a mysterious charm, which he who gazes at them finds himself unable to analyze. He feels tempted to land at every gully which runs up among the mountains and to investigate the strange wild world which must be beyond them. He knows, in truth, that there is nothing there,-that one brown hill would lead only to another, that there is no life among the hills, and that the very spots on which his eyes rest really contain whatever there may be of loveliness in the place. But though he knows this as fact, his imagination will not allow him to trust his knowledge. There is always present to him a vague longing to investigate the mysteries of the valleys, and to penetrate into the bosoms of the distant hills. The sweetest charms of landscape are as those of Iife ;-they consist of the anticipations of something beyond which never can be reached. I never felt this more strongly than when I was passing from one land-Iocked channel to another along the coast of Cook’s Straight.
From Australia and New Zealand, in which Anthony Trollope describes with haunting accuracy what it’s like to sail near Queen Charlotte Sound. Flickr’s description isn’t half as good.
As seen on the Consumerist.
Pull up a chair and keep me company.
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