Slashdot Mirror
GM's Billion-Dollar Fuel-Cell Bet
nakhla writes "Wired is running a lengthy article detailing GM's billion-dollar effort to invent a radically new fuel cell vehicle. The interesting part is that GM's engineers are no longer trying to squeeze a fuel cell engine into a traditional car design. Instead, they're building a completely new type of car from the ground up. No gears, clutch, braking hardware, etc. It's all drive-by-wire (computer controlled). Even the engines are located in each of the 4 wheels. It's a fascinating read, and the article outlines economic reasons for such a car, as well as environmental concerns and practical uses (imagine powering your house with the excess electricity generated by your car). For anyone remotely interested in the future of automotive technology, this article is very interesting."
"Blessed are the poor in threshold: for theirs is the Kingdom of the Page-Lengthening and Page-Widening Posts.
"Blessed are they that mourn the death of *BSD: for they shall be comforted with an ultradense Linux server from VA Linux, now sold by California Digital Corporation.
"Blessed are the posters of smug one-liners: for they shall inherit an Account Capped at 50.
"Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after The First Post: for they shall have the Third or Fourth Post.
"Blessed are the karma whores: for they shall obtain "Score: 5, Insightful".
"Blessed are those who dismiss out-of-hand: for they shall fail to see the Point of the Original Post.
"Blessed are those who seek to associate themselves with the latest techno-fad: for they shall be called 3L33T for at least Another Half Hour.
"Blessed are they which are persecuted for their own self-righteousness' sake: for theirs is the Kingdom of "Ask Slashdot".
"Blessed are the over-eager, who believe that Open Source is a social movement heralding the rise of a new generation: for they shall not realize that There Are No Sacred Cows.
"Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for the sake of your Favorite Operating System.
"Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in Heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you.
THIS IS THE WORD OF THE LORD
Whats black, blue and green and doesnt like sex?
The Girl Scout locked in my basement.
Whats the worst part about having sex with a six year-old?
Getting the blood out of your clown suit.
Whats the best thing about getting a hand job from a five year-old?
That little hand makes your thing look really huge.
Guy comes home from work to find his girlfriend sitting on the porch, crying.
Whats wrong, honey?
Im leaving you! I just found out youre a pdophile!
Pdophile? Why, thats a pretty big word for a ten year-old.
How can you tell when your sisters on her period?
When your dads dick tastes like blood!
Two pdophiles are lying on a beach tanning, one turns to the other and says, Excuse me, youre in my son.
What is the sickest sound you hear when fucking a nine year-old?
Her hips snapping!
What is the best sound you hear when fucking a 13 year-old?
Her hips snapping!
Whats 18 inches long, blue, veiny, and makes a woman cry?
Crib death.
How could the mans seven year-old son tell that his dad had fucked his eight year-old sister? His dads weiner tasted like blood!
Watson returns home to find Holmes in bed with a child. He shouts, Is this some sort of a schoolgirl?
Holmes replies, Elementary, my dear Watson.
So I was having sex with my girlfriend, and I decided I wanted to get kinky and try and do her in the ass. So I slipped around back; she looked over her shoulder at me and said, My, how presumptuous of you. I said, Presumptuous? Thats a big word for a ten year-old.
Two guys are walking down the street when a beautiful woman passes. The first guy says, Damn! Id love to tear her clothes off, do her in the rear, smear my fces all over her, slice off her breasts, chop her into little pieces, put her in a garbage bag and toss her into the river!
Second guy says, Yuck! Youre a sick bastard!
First guy says, Whatre you? A fag?
A kindergarten teacher is asking the kids what their father does for a living. All the kids answer except for Little Johnny. The teacher asks Little Johnny what his Dad does and Johnny replies, My dad is dead.
The teacher says, Thats terribile, but what did he do before he died?
Little Johnny replies, He turned blue and shit all over himself!
A guy calls in sick to work.
Whats wrong? asks the boss.
Im sick, the guy replies.
You sound all right.
No, Im really sick. Believe me.
Listen, you were fine yesterday, and we have a lot of work today. I want you in here. You cant be that sick!
Dude, I just banged my sister. Dont tell me Im not sick.
A little girl accompanied her father to the barbershop. While her dad received a haircut, the little girl stood next to the barber chair, enjoying a snack cake. The barber smiled at her and said, Sweetheart, youre going to get hair on your Twinkie.
I know, the little girl replied. Im gonna get tits, too.
An older man and a small boy walk hand in hand through the woods.
Boy: These woods sure are spooky!
Man: You think youre scared, Ive gotta walk out of here alone.
Whats the difference between Neil Armstrong and Michael Jackson?
One walked on the moon, and the other rapes little boys.
Has anyone read Michael Jacksons new book, The Ins and Outs of Child Rearing?
Q: Whats the difference between a dead baby and a golden delicious apple?
A: I dont cum all over the golden delicious apple before I take a bite out of it.
Q: Whats the difference between a dead baby and my girlfriend?
A: I dont kiss my girlfriend after sex.
Q: Whats the difference between a dead baby and a table?
A: You cant fuck a table.
Q: Whats special about a dead baby over all other forms of life?
A: You can achieve deep throat from whichever way you enter.
Q: What do you have when you have four dead babies, take away two, and add five more?
A: An orgy!
Q: Whats better than three 14 year-olds?
A: 14 three year-olds.
Q: Whats white and bobs up and down in a babys crib?
A: A pdophiles ass.
Q: Whats the safest way to play with a baby?
A: With a condom.
Q: Whats more fun than feeling up a dead baby?
A: Feeling up a dead baby with three nipples.
Q: What does a baby and a Pinto have in common?
A: Theyre fun to ride until they die.
Q: What do you get whan you dislocate a dead babys jaw?
A: Deep throat.
Q: Whats the difference between a baby and a grandmother?
A: Grandmothers dont die when you fuck them in the ass.
Q: Whats the best sound in the world?
A: Hearing dead babys hips crack under pressure!
Q: Whats worse than a having sex with a dead baby?
A: Having sex with a dead baby filled with razor blades.
Q: How do you stop a baby from choking?
A: Take your dick out of its mouth.
Q: Whats worse than finding a dead baby on your pillow in the morning?
A: Realizing you were drunk and made love to it the night before.
Q: How do you make a baby cry twice?
A: Wipe your bloody cock on his teddy bear.
Whats better than sex with a twelve year-old boy?
Absolutely nothing.
- posted by poopbot: information likes to be narrow
k8OIqoml55
To Scam or Be Scammed
A good conversation will take you to places you never intended to visit. So will an inebriated bus driver, but a conversation is much more likely to improve your life. The presence of a second mind adds the indispensable element of surprise, the moment of unexpected revelation that even the noblest soliloquies rarely produce.
Case in point: I was telling my brother Greg about the failure of my weekly "syndicated" column, Some Cynical Guy, to find an audience in the wide world of print. I had been cranking out my solitary observations for two years, I told him, and my publisher still declared that she could find no takers. My only outlet to date had been a wireless service that sputtered into oblivion shortly after the infamous dotcom bubble-burst of 2000. (Remember wireless? It was supposed to be the next Big Thing in geekdom.) I never did understand why anyone would want to read cynical columns, or any other form of English prose, on a screen the size of a commemorative stamp.
No takers, no pay; that was the bottom line. I told Greg that I was writing my column for free, and that every word I wrote automatically became the property of my publisher. So far I had handed her seventy-eight original columns and about two dozen abridged versions of my monthly tirades. At zero dollars a pop I wasn?t earning enough to buy bubble wrap, let alone a quaint summer house on Martha?s Vineyard. Now and again I?d threaten to quit, and each time my publisher would cajole me into staying with her for just a few more months. Her other columnists were hanging in there, she said. Think of the potential for exposure, she said. She was about to sign a new syndication deal, she said. There always seemed to be new deals on the horizon, I told Greg. The problem was that they seemed to stay there, perpetually out of reach.
My brother and I joked that I was probably being syndicated to a hundred newspapers by now, but that my publisher was withholding the good news and pocketing the proceeds. For all I knew, I might be locally famous in Akron or Wichita. I laughed. Greg laughed. "How can you ever know if she?s telling the truth?," he asked. Then he said something that startled me: "Everyone is either scamming or being scammed."
In other words, the human population is neatly divided into tricksters and suckers, just as nature splits the animal kingdom into carnivores and those that provide the meat. Every last one of us is a scammer or a scammee. There?s no middle ground.
Greg?s thesis struck me as a simplification, but I thought it stood up well under scrutiny. Scammers might be a predatory minority, like muggers or werewolves, but all of us who weren?t actively on the prowl could count ourselves as victims. Doubt it? We?ve all been scammed by corporate America during the past year -- except for those of us who were doing the scamming. (If you have more than $100 million in your account after the latest stock market meltdown, chances are you were one of the latter.)
I should note that Greg is even more of a cynic than his brother, especially when he contemplates the shaggy underbelly of human nature. Though I rail against cosmic injustices like death and baldness, I tend to trust the individual humans who populate my landscape. Sometimes I trust them to the point of imbecility. The awful truth is that I?ve been scammed, conned, swindled, bilked and duped numberless times; I?ve even been hoodwinked, hornswoggled, bamboozled, snookered, fleeced and flim-flammed. I?m ashamed to admit how often I?ve surrendered thousands of dollars to total strangers who phoned me with can?t-miss stock opportunities. (By now I?m probably at the top of everyone?s sucker list, with my name in bold upper-case letters.) I?ve played the clueless stooge to employers, telemarketers, lovers and insurance agents. Just call me Curly.
"Fool me once, shame on you," goes the old bromide. "Fool me twice, shame on me." Why don?t we poor chumps ever learn from our mistakes? Why do we repeatedly listen to the guy who tells us to look down at his finger, then thwacks the underside of our nose? Because we don?t think like scammers; we think like scammees. It?s that simple. We tend to take people at their word, and that weakness makes us prime patsies for the world?s more devious operators.
I have to confess that I can?t even fathom the convolutions of the conniving mind. I?m constitutionally incapable of following the plot of an old film like "The Sting," with its elaborate machinations and con-artist vocabulary. I?m even more helpless when it comes to explaining the insider mentality of corporations like Enron, or of Wall Street investment houses or the halls of Congress; you might as well ask me to assemble a working cuckoo-clock out of matchsticks. Such thinking is as alien and incomprehensible to me as Swahili. It might be that I?m just a congenital dunce, but I suspect there are other operative factors here.
The scammers know that most of their fellow-humans are terminally gullible. We?re suckers for a good story, and the average scammer is more prolific than Joyce Carol Oates in that department. We gasp audibly when a well-dressed huckster tells us that his multi-level marketing business has been netting him an average of $60,000 a month. Why, just last week he opened his mailbox and found a check for $28,631. More gasps. The huckster smiles and conveys easy prosperity with every gesture. We?ve bought the story.
The scammers also know that most of us are looking for maximum gains with a minimum outlay. To put a less charitable spin on it, we?re greedy little fish. Combine gullibility and greed, and you?re looking at the recipe for deep-fried dupe. We unworldly ones are so easily impressed, so desperate to grab opportunities and so nakedly honest in proclaiming our interest, that we swim right up to our captors and grab the bait. No wonder the scammers continue to reel us in like so many small-mouthed bass. Chicanery can?t succeed without our complicity.
Even when we smell a potential scam, as in the numerous penny-stock frauds I?ve fallen for during the past dozen years, our naive hope perpetually outweighs our skepticism. We continue to trust the storytellers. Worse yet, something in our nature won?t permit us to slam the door in a scammer?s face. We don?t feel entitled to be rude. Our elders have too successfully trained us to trust and obey. We listen and we succumb, once again proving our status as suckers.
Scammers make a living by exploiting trust. They lure us with candy and promises; they compel us with the intimidation of authority. A televangelist dangles the celestial carrot of everlasting life (and the threat of the less appealing option) as he collects donations from his destitute flock. Evil imams promise a green and orgiastic paradise to youthful suicide bombers. (Word of advice: Never fall for any deal that requires your death as a prerequisite to benefits. That includes life insurance.) New Age mountebanks entice their clients back to the therapy table for weekly "energy alignments" at $100 a session. A respected stock analyst issues a "buy" recommendation for a company he trashes in private, and once again we take the bait. ("Suckers!," he gloats. "Now they?ll boost the share price so I can bail my best clients out of this dog before it collapses.") Corporate chieftains counsel their underlings to go the extra mile for the team, then abscond with half a zillion after they drive the company into its death-spiral. Assorted hucksters know that fear and greed are the world?s biggest motivators, and they play them to the hilt. And politicians will always be politicians.
The scammers are in the business of selling us hope, and the hope they sell us turns out to be a sham. They?ve lied to us; that?s their crime. We?ve bought the lie; that?s our folly. We trusted them, and we were hoodwinked.
I just finished reading Animal Farm, Orwell?s now-classic tale of creeping totalitarianism. The story is a perfect allegory: Having overthrown their human exploiters, the critters (most of them free-spirited socialists like Orwell) are beginning to enjoy the fruits of their labor -- until they fall under the malign authority of a clever pig named Napoleon. This swinish leader (a hard-line Communist, no doubt) exhorts them to work harder and make more sacrifices; he and his top henchpig keep the less clever beasts subsisting on hope and lies, year after grueling year, surreptitiously changing the rules and rewriting the past until the pigs transform themselves into an even more oppressive elite than the humans. The poor worker-animals never suspect that they?re being hornswoggled into subservience, and their unwavering faith is heartbreaking.
It galls me that scammers like Orwell?s Napoleon -- or the folks at Enron, for that matter -- are popularly branded as "cynics." Our pundits and politicians love to heap infamy upon our ancient tribe. In fact, the scammers are anything but cynics. They?re shifty-eyed opportunists, relentlessly enterprising activists -- soulless souls who bully and finagle their way into power. The true cynics are their victims, the innocent ones who give their trust and their time -- only to have the welcome mat yanked out from under them. We never really glimpse the cynics in Animal Farm, though we know who they will be; they?re the downtrodden worker-beasts who, on the last page of the story, silently discover that they?ve been hoodwinked. We never see them respond to the outrage perpetrated by the ruling pigs; Orwell spares us their inevitable descent into lifelong cynicism -- as perhaps he should.
Though I?ve earned my cynic?s credentials and preside over my own cynical fiefdom on the Web, it still pains me to watch idealists lose their ideals. Not that the best specimens ever lose them entirely. No, the more humane cynics among us cling wistfully to the old virtues in the face of cultural fraudulence and decay. We still want to believe that goodness will prevail, though we?ve already had our noses tweaked too often to believe in a positive outcome. We?re unafraid to live in perpetual disappointment as we thumb our wounded noses at the prevailing potentates. So what if our leaders let us down, if the companies we invest in let us down, if even God himself fails us in the end? What if there?s no heaven, as John Lennon wanted us to believe? Is life itself the biggest scam of all?
No, I refuse to take defeatism to that unhappy extreme. (I recommend defeatism in moderation, like alcohol and saturated fats.) If we keep an eye open for the foxes and flim-flam artists, we can snatch our fair share of comfort and happiness in this infinitely diverting world. We can enjoy our appetites with unapologetic gusto. We can cultivate our gardens and our talents. We can accumulate heady experiences and recycle them as memories, though they?ll ultimately vanish along with our mortal bodies and the people who knew us. And the next time a scammer approaches us with another can?t-miss scheme, we can decide if we want to nibble at the bait.
If you find yourself scammed once again, accept your misfortune cheerfully and don?t reproach yourself for being gullible. Because in my heart of hearts, I believe it?s better to believe than to live in perpetual suspicion. Do I suspect that my publisher has been withholding news of my syndication... that she?s been pocketing my proceeds on the sly as my brother and I playfully speculated? Of course not. I honestly believe that my column has been going nowhere, and that belief reassures me that all is well.
Will the Real God Please Stand Up?
When I was a mere pup, no older than some of the unopened soup cans in my cupboard today, I used to believe that God looked like Arthur Godfrey.
For those of you too young to remember, Arthur Godfrey's benign countenance beamed its way into millions of American homes during television's infancy. He was among the first and most legendary of the daytime talk-show hosts. His cheerfully bulbous features -- the features of a middle-aged cherub -- conveyed a benevolence that passeth all understanding. To my three-year-old mind, he was almost an object of reverence. I watched in awe as his image materialized on that mysterious glowing screen.
When I first heard about God, I assumed he was simply a more distant incarnation of Arthur Godfrey. The names were similar; maybe they were cousins. And from that time forward, whenever I tried to visualize the face of God, I would invariably see the puffy cheeks, the mirthful eyes, the perpetual beaming smile of... ARTHUR GODFREY.
There was no avoiding it. In the crazy maze of my youthful imagination, God and Arthur Godfrey became inextricably linked. At school, when we'd say grace before our mid-afternoon snackfest of milk and cookies, there was Arthur Godfrey nodding his approval from on high. When I walked through a field on a sparkling day and dared to look the sun in its face, it was the unmistakable face of Arthur Godfrey I beheld. Godfrey was everywhere, and he made me feel at ease in the world.
Only later did the more orthodox theologies cloud my sunny relationship with the supreme deity. Yes, God was our shepherd, his mercy was everlasting, and his truth endureth to all generations. But he was also known to pull an occasional fast one.
The God of the Old Testament could be alarmingly ruthless and persnickety. He had a nasty penchant for punishing the innocent along with the guilty, yet nobody quibbled with his decisions. Why would he drown hordes of helpless children in the Flood, or smite all those firstborn sons in the land of Egypt, or turn Lot's good wife into a pillar of salt? For that matter, why would he condemn all of humankind because our first ancestors ate some unwashed fruit? And why the seemingly petty obsessions with dietary habits and Jewish men's hairstyles? Could the creator of the galaxies really be all that chagrined if we ate a bratwurst?
Even the New Testament God, with his mellow '60s message of love and brotherhood, could turn spiteful if we didn't play by his rules. Sure, he'd reward us if we accepted his son as our personal lord and savior; otherwise we could bake in hell for all eternity. And how would he know which of us deserved a place of honor in his own lofty accommodations? He'd have to tally the scoresheets of billions of individual humans from the Paleolithic to the present. As if he isn't busy enough inventing new viruses or destroying stars in the dark regions beyond the Crab Nebula.
And how is it that so many generations of believers have bowed to his more unfathomable whims with the bland resignation of sheared sheep? Eighteenth-century burying grounds are littered with the remnants of human bodies rudely snatched in their infancy; I've seen mildewed monuments to entire broods carried off by a single epidemic. How could the faithful parents not have been consumed by rage at their presumptive benefactor? Meekly and heroically, they subjected their own will to his: "Here lyeth all that is Mortal of our beloved Daughter Elizabeth, whom it pleased God to take from us in the seventh Yeare of her Age. Praised be His glorious Name." If they felt betrayed, they didn't let it ruffle their periwigs.
Creator, benefactor, destroyer, heartbreaker. Exactly what kind of deity are we dealing with here? Who IS this God that so many of us have worshiped, abandoned, loved, cursed, wrestled with, and obsessed about for all these many centuries? Is he a charitable fellow whose eye is on the sparrow, or a remote and brilliant physicist more concerned with gravitation than salvation? Might he be the abstract, beneficent Providence invoked by Franklin and Jefferson? How about Chairman and CEO of the universe? Does his tolerance for evil make him indistinguishable from the devil? Could he be (choose one) Yahweh, Zeus, Allah, Wotan, Quetzalcoatl, Ahura-Mazda, Shiva or the Tao? Is he dead, nonexistent or just retired? Have the New-Agers discovered him in their hazy preoccupation with healing energy? Finally, could he be a she? Will the real God please stand up?
I have a suggestion. If we want to get better acquainted with God, let's look at the world he created. We should see his imprint all over it, shouldn't we? By his works we shall know him. It seems so simple, so obvious... I'm astonished that none of the major religions ever considered it before.
What can we deduce about God by observing the world?
He must love insects, for he made so many of them. They must have been his favorite hobby when he was young, and he never lost his fascination with them. The termite population alone is said to outweigh the world's human population by a ratio of ten to one. In other words, for every hundred-pound fashion model, the good lord has provided the world with a thousand pounds of termites.
He's fond of stars, obviously; they're as staggeringly numerous as grains of sand, which he also must love. Crabgrass, dandelions, ragweed, cancer cells, antibiotic-resistant bacteria -- all favored by the Almighty. You'd think he'd like dogs, but he suffers them to live only a dozen or so years, while parrots frequently become centenarians. Sometimes there's no accounting for his taste.
I'm convinced that God loves a good prank. When I drop a screw and it promptly rolls out of sight... when I can't find a checkbook that was in plain view not five minutes ago... when I'm on a date and I see the woman of my dreams sitting alone at the next table... there I discern the handiwork of the Almighty in all its mischievous glory.
God appears to be fairly enthusiastic about sex. The entire pageant of life revolves around the act of procreation. We tend to grow extinct without it. If God cast a dim eye on the felicities of conjugation, he would have had us reproducing like mushrooms or amoebas. Instead, he invented genitals.
Somewhat surprisingly for a divinity who endorses procreation, the real God is tough on babies. Perhaps ten percent of lion cubs survive their first year. The numbers are even more depressing for lesser creatures. If you enter this world as a crab or a herring, good luck. You're FOOD -- even before you GROW UP to be food. Among our own favored species, as we've already observed, infant mortality has been a fact of life for millennia. In some of the most godforsaken nations, half the children are history by the age of five.
In general, God appears to concern himself more with the breed than the individual. It matters little to him what happens to every Tom, Dick and Hideki; they're expendable commodities on the battlefield of life, much like the countless shrimp that end up on our cocktail plates. To God, one shrimp is pretty much like another -- no matter that the population is decimated and millions of lives are lost, as long as a few lusty specimens survive to perpetuate their genes.
Now and then he'll give up on an entire breed that proves too hapless or absurdly designed. Dodos, dimetrodons, great auks and giant ground sloths have all joined the roster of God's Edsels. They're just a few of his discontinued models.
God may be preoccupied with species, but he seems to delight in tormenting certain types of individuals. Crazy people, sickly people, the weak, the ugly, the maladjusted, the shy, the stupid, the overly intelligent, the insecure -- chronic sufferers all. He values pluck and aggressiveness; the go-getter who builds his own successful sheet-metal business is the good lord's fair-haired boy. God appears to be ambivalent toward the Jewish people he professed to embrace as his nation; he has granted them success and distinction at the price of eternal vigilance.
But God has the most fun with artists and writers: he inflames them with the desire to rival his own creations, then douses their overheated ambitions with a cold spray from the garden hose of reality. If they persist, he slams them to the ground and tweaks them on the proboscis for good measure. A fortunate few break free and prosper; the others lament the day they didn't become bank clerks.
You have to wonder why the Almighty would go out of his way to thwart the competition, for no human can rival him as an artist. God has yet to create an ill-formed mountain or tree. His birds and butterflies are mostly magnificent. No Monet can match the color and composition of his most enchanting landscapes. Rockbound coasts, fields of wildflowers, the glint of sunlight glowing through translucent green leaves, a silent explosion of cumulus clouds, the purples and golds of sunset -- all smack of artistry beyond the limits of human attainment. He deserves our critical acclaim.
But still the hard truth remains: God can be as merciless as he is magnanimous. What do we make of a Providence who destroys as readily as he provides? Can we still be friends? Or do we need to keep genuflecting while we duck for cover? An adversarial God is small comfort when we're struggling to survive. His opposition exhausts us. More and more often, I've found myself longing for the sunny God of my youth.
The other day, after work, I was walking along a stream a few miles from town. I crossed over a graceful stone bridge, then proceeded up the road. On my right, behind an old Pennsylvania Dutch farmhouse, a little girl was frolicking with a woolly white dog. Both of them seemed to exult in being young and alive together. It was high summer. Tall flowers shot upward in a brilliant profusion of colors straight out of a Crayola box. The early evening sun cast a pleasing golden-green patchwork across the lush lawn, while thrushes warbled from the cool darkness of the trees. It was as nearly perfect a scene of earthly contentment as one could hope to see.
I looked into the western sky, where the sun reclined gently toward the horizon -- a calm, benevolent, cherubic sun. Could it be? There, amid peach- colored clouds, the unmistakable countenance of Arthur Godfrey beamed again. My old friend was back in his rightful place after a long and painful absence; his smile comforted me.
in the book
by C.P. Kaiser (8-8-00)
When we talk about progress, we need to distinguish between technical and personal, because, unfortunately, technical advancement doesn?t always promise personal improvement. This is no more evident than with cell phone (ab)users. The newest rage (double entendre intended) is commuters, shoppers, symphony patrons, etc., punching out their cell-phoned brethren who haven?t the couth to speak softly or privately. How many times have you huffed silently as your self-important neighbor on the bus, train, or subway nibbled on his Nokia loud enough to crack your dentures, or, at least, offend your decency? I?ve seen entire boxcars of passengers become as stony faced as Joan Rivers after someone?s cell phone conversation became a loud recounting of sexual exploits. more
Traffic Engineers (Slowly) Drive Me Crazy
by Andrew Turner (2-15-00)
You know, since I?ve been driving (legally and otherwise), I?ve noticed a lot of driving-related things that seem "wrong." more
40,000 Lies About the Culture of Violence in the book
by Scott Stein (7-22-99)
With the investigation into the "culture of violence" in full swing following the Columbine High School massacre in April 1999, it was reported by various news agencies on June 8, 1999, that President Clinton said the typical American will see 40,000 dramatized murders by the age of 18. more
Welcome to Planet Stupid
by Jody Lane (12-7-99)
As Y2K day steadily approaches, many Christian prophets are hailing it as the beginning of the end, or the end of the world as we know it?a profitable opinion for those prophets who had the foresight to begin selling solar flashlights via the Internet...
Taxed to the Max in the book
by Jason Stein (2-22-00)
On every paycheck you get, they take out City tax, State tax, and Federal tax. Then on April 15th, you have to pay Federal tax again! more
This is Your Brain, Unplugged in the book
by Robert L. Hall (2-15-00)
Two years ago I performed a simple task that saved my mental health: I turned off my television set. I have since had a life. more
An Open Letter to the Dirty Bastard Who Stole My Car in the book
by Scott Stein (6-6-00)
Two days ago I had a car. Not a great one, I guess. It didn?t talk and help me fight crime. It didn?t have welded doors and the ability to jump cars with no ramp in sight, like the General Lee. I never even once slid over the hood à la Starsky and Hutch. more
People Are Idiots... in the book
by Jody Lane (2-8-00)
Recently, I received an e-mail forwarded by a relative that claimed I was somehow "related to one out of every six people on the planet." No, I did not attempt to test the validity of the theory myself by actually determining my relationship to any one randomly chosen person on a planet of six billion. I have never been very good at math. I really didn?t have that much time to devote to it, and, well (OK, damn it), I guess some would say I?m just plain lazy. more
Why I Haven't Solved World Hunger in the book
by Andrew Turner (1-18-00)
You can pay $6 for a shirt. You can get T-shirts for less. You can also buy a DKNY shirt for, like, $80 to $100. Or more. more
A Kill Halloween Party in the book
by Suzanne Hakanen (10-24-00)
Remember when Howard Stern ran for governor of New York?
He had an agenda. He said, "Elect me. I?ll reinstate the death penalty and restrict road construction to evenings and weekends. Then I?ll step down."
A great man, Howard Stern. He understands how the morning commute affects your day.
I propose the same arrangement: Elect me for president. And I?ll fulfill my agenda of eliminating unnecessary holidays. Then I?ll step down.
The first year in office, I?ll kill Halloween. more
Blame Game Justice in the book
by Robert L. Hall (4-4-00)
I?m waiting for some nincompoop to jump up on a national news program and proclaim, "There is evidence today of a gene, just discovered, that is responsible for no self-control in the human behavior pattern." more
Gang Bang, Anyone? in the book
by Jason Stein (7-15-99)
When I hear stories of slashing another person as initiation into a gang, it?s almost too ridiculous to be believed. Is this what kids in public school have to look forward to? How are children supposed to learn anything when they?re always looking over their shoulders? more
Get the Book
When Falls the Coliseum: a journal of American culture (or lack thereof). The book contains over 100 of the funniest and most controversial essays, satires, debates, and stories from this Web site. Get your copy today from Free Reign in the book
by C.P. Kaiser (8-8-00)
When we talk about progress, we need to distinguish between technical and personal, because, unfortunately, technical advancement doesn?t always promise personal improvement. This is no more evident than with cell phone (ab)users. The newest rage (double entendre intended) is commuters, shoppers, symphony patrons, etc., punching out their cell-phoned brethren who haven?t the couth to speak softly or privately. How many times have you huffed silently as your self-important neighbor on the bus, train, or subway nibbled on his Nokia loud enough to crack your dentures, or, at least, offend your decency? I?ve seen entire boxcars of passengers become as stony faced as Joan Rivers after someone?s cell phone conversation became a loud recounting of sexual exploits. more
Traffic Engineers (Slowly) Drive Me Crazy
by Andrew Turner (2-15-00)
You know, since I?ve been driving (legally and otherwise), I?ve noticed a lot of driving-related things that seem "wrong." more
40,000 Lies About the Culture of Violence in the book
by Scott Stein (7-22-99)
With the investigation into the "culture of violence" in full swing following the Columbine High School massacre in April 1999, it was reported by various news agencies on June 8, 1999, that President Clinton said the typical American will see 40,000 dramatized murders by the age of 18. more
Welcome to Planet Stupid
by Jody Lane (12-7-99)
As Y2K day steadily approaches, many Christian prophets are hailing it as the beginning of the end, or the end of the world as we know it?a profitable opinion for those prophets who had the foresight to begin selling solar flashlights via the Internet...
Taxed to the Max in the book
by Jason Stein (2-22-00)
On every paycheck you get, they take out City tax, State tax, and Federal tax. Then on April 15th, you have to pay Federal tax again! more
This is Your Brain, Unplugged in the book
by Robert L. Hall (2-15-00)
Two years ago I performed a simple task that saved my mental health: I turned off my television set. I have since had a life. more
An Open Letter to the Dirty Bastard Who Stole My Car in the book
by Scott Stein (6-6-00)
Two days ago I had a car. Not a great one, I guess. It didn?t talk and help me fight crime. It didn?t have welded doors and the ability to jump cars with no ramp in sight, like the General Lee. I never even once slid over the hood à la Starsky and Hutch. more
People Are Idiots... in the book
by Jody Lane (2-8-00)
Recently, I received an e-mail forwarded by a relative that claimed I was somehow "related to one out of every six people on the planet." No, I did not attempt to test the validity of the theory myself by actually determining my relationship to any one randomly chosen person on a planet of six billion. I have never been very good at math. I really didn?t have that much time to devote to it, and, well (OK, damn it), I guess some would say I?m just plain lazy. more
Why I Haven't Solved World Hunger in the book
by Andrew Turner (1-18-00)
You can pay $6 for a shirt. You can get T-shirts for less. You can also buy a DKNY shirt for, like, $80 to $100. Or more. more
A Kill Halloween Party in the book
by Suzanne Hakanen (10-24-00)
Remember when Howard Stern ran for governor of New York?
He had an agenda. He said, "Elect me. I?ll reinstate the death penalty and restrict road construction to evenings and weekends. Then I?ll step down."
A great man, Howard Stern. He understands how the morning commute affects your day.
I propose the same arrangement: Elect me for president. And I?ll fulfill my agenda of eliminating unnecessary holidays. Then I?ll step down.
The first year in office, I?ll kill Halloween. more
Blame Game Justice in the book
by Robert L. Hall (4-4-00)
I?m waiting for some nincompoop to jump up on a national news program and proclaim, "There is evidence today of a gene, just discovered, that is responsible for no self-control in the human behavior pattern." more
Gang Bang, Anyone? in the book
by Jason Stein (7-15-99)
When I hear stories of slashing another person as initiation into a gang, it?s almost too ridiculin the book
by C.P. Kaiser (8-8-00)
When we talk about progress, we need to distinguish between technical and personal, because, unfortunately, technical advancement doesn?t always promise personal improvement. This is no more evident than with cell phone (ab)users. The newest rage (double entendre intended) is commuters, shoppers, symphony patrons, etc., punching out their cell-phoned brethren who haven?t the couth to speak softly or privately. How many times have you huffed silently as your self-important neighbor on the bus, train, or subway nibbled on his Nokia loud enough to crack your dentures, or, at least, offend your decency? I?ve seen entire boxcars of passengers become as stony faced as Joan Rivers after someone?s cell phone conversation became a loud recounting of sexual exploits. more
Traffic Engineers (Slowly) Drive Me Crazy
by Andrew Turner (2-15-00)
You know, since I?ve been driving (legally and otherwise), I?ve noticed a lot of driving-related things that seem "wrong." more
40,000 Lies About the Culture of Violence in the book
by Scott Stein (7-22-99)
With the investigation into the "culture of violence" in full swing following the Columbine High School massacre in April 1999, it was reported by various news agencies on June 8, 1999, that President Clinton said the typical American will see 40,000 dramatized murders by the age of 18. more
Welcome to Planet Stupid
by Jody Lane (12-7-99)
As Y2K day steadily approaches, many Christian prophets are hailing it as the beginning of the end, or the end of the world as we know it?a profitable opinion for those prophets who had the foresight to begin selling solar flashlights via the Internet...
Taxed to the Max in the book
by Jason Stein (2-22-00)
On every paycheck you get, they take out City tax, State tax, and Federal tax. Then on April 15th, you have to pay Federal tax again! more
This is Your Brain, Unplugged in the book
by Robert L. Hall (2-15-00)
Two years ago I performed a simple task that saved my mental health: I turned off my television set. I have since had a life. more
An Open Letter to the Dirty Bastard Who Stoin the book
by C.P. Kaiser (8-8-00)
When we talk about progress, we need to distinguish between technical and personal, because, unfortunately, technical advancement doesn?t always promise personal improvement. This is no more evident than with cell phone (ab)users. The newest rage (double entendre intended) is commuters, shoppers, symphony patrons, etc., punching out their cell-phoned brethren who haven?t the couth to speak softly or privately. How many times have you huffed silently as your self-important neighbor on the bus, train, or subway nibbled on his Nokia loud enough to crack your dentures, or, at least, offend your decency? I?ve seen entire boxcars of passengers become as stony faced as Joan Rivers after someone?s cell phone conversation became a loud recounting of sexual exploits. more
Traffic Engineers (Slowly) Drive Me Crazy
by Andrew Turner (2-15-00)
You know, since I?ve been driving (legally and otherwise), I?ve noticed a lot of driving-related things that seem "wrong." more
40,000 Lies About the Culture of Violence in the book
by Scott Stein (7-22-99)
With the investigation into the "culture of violence" in full swing following the Columbine High School massacre in April 1999, it was reported by various news agencies on June 8, 1999, that President Clinton said the typical American will see 40,000 dramatized murders by the age of 18. more
Welcome to Planet Stupid
by Jody Lane (12-7-99)
As Y2K day steadily approaches, many Christian prophets are hailing it as the beginning of the end, or the end of the world as we know it?a profitable opinion for those prophets who had the foresight to begin selling solar flashlights via the Internet...
Taxed to the Max in the book
by Jason Stein (2-22-00)
On every paycheck you get, they take out City tax, State tax, and Federal tax. Then on April 15th, you have to pay Federal tax again! more
This is Your Brain, Unplugged in the book
by Robert L. Hall (2-15-00)
Two years ago I performed a simple task that saved my mental health: I turned off my television set. I have since had a life. more
An Open Letter to the Dirty Bastard Who Stole My Car in the book
by Scott Stein (6-6-00)
Two days ago I had a car. Not a great one, I guess. It didn?t talk and help me fight crime. It didn?t have welded doors and the ability to jump cars with no ramp in sight, like the General Lee. I never even once slid over the hood à la Starsky and Hutch. more
People Are Idiots... in the book
by Jody Lane (2-8-00)
Recently, I received an e-mail forwarded by a relative that claimed I was somehow "related to one out of every six people on the planet." No, I did not attempt to test the validity of the theory myself by actually determining my relationship to any one randomly chosen person on a planet of six billion. I have never been very good at math. I really didn?t have that much time to devote to it, and, well (OK, damn it), I guess some would say I?m just plain lazy. more
Why I Haven't Solved World Hunger in the book
by Andrew Turner (1-18-00)
You can pay $6 for a shirt. You can get T-shirts for less. You can also buy a DKNY shirt for, like, $80 to $100. Or more. more
A Kill Halloween Party in the book
by Suzanne Hakanen (10-24-00)
Remember when Howard Stern ran for governor of New York?
He had an agenda. He said, "Elect me. I?ll reinstate the death penalty and restrict road construction to evenings and weekends. Then I?ll step down."
A great man, Howard Stern. He understands how the morning commute affects your day.
I propose the same arrangement: Elect me for president. And I?ll fulfill my agenda of eliminating unnecessary holidays. Then I?ll step down.
The first year in office, I?ll kill Halloween. more
Blame Game Justice in the book
by Robert L. Hall (4-4-00)
I?m waiting for some nincompoop to jump up on a national news program and proclaim, "There is evidence today of a gene, just discovered, that is responsible for no self-control in the human behavior pattern." more
Gang Bang, Anyone? in the book
by Jason Stein (7-15-99)
When I hear stories of slashing another person as initiation into a gang, it?s almost too ridiculous to be believed. Is this what kids in public school have to look forward to? How are children supposed to learn anything when they?re always looking over their shoulders? more
Get the Book
When Falls the Coliseum: a journal of American culture (or lack thereof). The book contains over 100 of the funniest and most controversial essays, satires, debates, and stories from this Web site. Get your copy today from Free Reign Press. You can also get the book from amazon.com, bn.com, and bookstores.
le My Car in the book
by Scott Stein (6-6-00)
Two days ago I had a car. Not a great one, I guess. It didn?t talk and help me fight crime. It didn?t have welded doors and the ability to jump cars with no ramp in sight, like the General Lee. I never even once slid over the hood à la Starsky and Hutch. more
People Are Idiots... in the book
by Jody Lane (2-8-00)
Recently, I received an e-mail forwarded by a relative that claimed I was somehow "related to one out of every six people on the planet." No, I did not attempt to test the validity of the theory myself by actually determining my relationship to any one randomly chosen person on a planet of six billion. I have never been very good at math. I really didn?t have that much time to devote to it, and, well (OK, damn it), I guess some would say I?m just plain lazy. more
Why I Haven't Solved World Hunger in the book
by Andrew Turner (1-18-00)
You can pay $6 for a shirt. You can get T-shirts for less. You can also buy a DKNY shirt for, like, $80 to $100. Or more. more
A Kill Halloween Party in the book
by Suzanne Hakanen (10-24-00)
Remember when Howard Stern ran for governor of New York?
He had an agenda. He said, "Elect me. I?ll reinstate the death penalty and restrict road construction to evenings and weekends. Then I?ll step down."
A great man, Howard Stern. He understands how the morning commute affects your day.
I propose the same arrangement: Elect me for president. And I?ll fulfill my agenda of eliminating unnecessary holidays. Then I?ll step down.
The first year in office, I?ll kill Halloween. more
Blame Game Justice in the book
by Robert L. Hall (4-4-00)
I?m waiting for some nincompoop to jump up on a national news program and proclaim, "There is evidence today of a gene, just discovered, that is responsible for no self-control in the human behavior pattern." more
Gang Bang, Anyone? in the book
by Jason Stein (7-15-99)
When I hear stories of slashing another person as initiation into a gang, it?s almost too ridiculous to be believed. Is this what kids in public school have to look forward to? How are children supposed to learn anything when they?re always looking over their shoulders? more
Get the Book
When Falls the Coliseum: a journal of American culture (or lack thereof). The book contains over 100 of the funniest and most controversial essays, satires, debates, and stories from this Web site. Get your copy today from Free Reign Press. You can also get the book from amazon.com, bn.com, and bookstores.
ous to be believed. Is this what kids inin the book
by C.P. Kaiser (8-8-00)
When we talk about progress, we need to distinguish between technical and personal, because, unfortunately, technical advancement doesn?t always promise personal improvement. This is no more evident than with cell phone (ab)users. The newest rage (double entendre intended) is commuters, shoppers, symphony patrons, etc., punching out their cell-phoned brethren who haven?t the couth to speak softly or privately. How many times have you huffed silently as your self-important neighbor on the bus, train, or subway nibbled on his Nokia loud enough to crack your dentures, or, at least, offend your decency? I?ve seen entire boxcars of passengers become as stony faced as Joan Rivers after someone?s cell phone conversation became a loud recounting of sexual exploits. more
Traffic Engineers (Slowly) Drive Me Crazy
by Andrew Turner (2-15-00)
You know, since I?ve been driving (legally and otherwise), I?ve noticed a lot of driving-related things that seem "wrong." more
40,000 Lies About the Culture of Violence in the book
by Scott Stein (7-22-99)
With the investigation into the "culture of violence" in full swing following the Columbine High School massacre in April 1999, it was reported by various news agencies on June 8, 1999, that President Clinton said the typical American will see 40,000 dramatized murders by the age of 18. more
Welcome to Planet Stupid
by Jody Lane (12-7-99)
As Y2K day steadily approaches, many Christian prophets are hailing it as the beginning of the end, or the end of the world as we know it?a profitable opinion for those prophets who had the foresight to begin selling solar flashlights via the Internet...
Taxed to the Max in the book
by Jason Stein (2-22-00)
On every paycheck you get, they take out City tax, State tax, and Federal tax. Then on April 15th, you have to pay Federal tax again! more
This is Your Brain, Unplugged in the book
by Robert L. Hall (2-15-00)
Two years ago I performed a simple task that saved my mental health: I turned off my television set. I have since had a life. more
An Open Letter to the Dirty Bastard Who Stole My Car in the book
by Scott Stein (6-6-00)
Two days ago I had a car. Not a great one, I guess. It didn?t talk and help me fight crime. It didn?t have welded doors and the ability to jump cars with no ramp in sight, like the General Lee. I never even once slid over the hood à la Starsky and Hutch. more
People Are Idiots... in the book
by Jody Lane (2-8-00)
Recently, I received an e-mail forwarded by a relative that claimed I was somehow "related to one out of every six people on the planet." No, I did not attempt to test the validity of the theory myself by actually determining my relationship to any one randomly chosen person on a planet of six billion. I have never been very good at math. I really didn?t have that much time to devote to it, and, well (OK, damn it), I guess some would say I?m just plain lazy. more
Why I Haven't Solved World Hunger in the book
by Andrew Turner (1-18-00)
You can pay $6 for a shirt. You can get T-shirts for less. You can also buy a DKNY shirt for, like, $80 to $100. Or more. more
A Kill Halloween Party in the book
by Suzanne Hakanen (10-24-00)
Remember when Howard Stern ran for governor of New York?
He had an agenda. He said, "Elect me. I?ll reinstate the death penalty and restrict road construction to evenings and weekends. Then I?ll step down."
A great man, Howard Stern. He understands how the morning commute affects your day.
I propose the same arrangement: Elect me for president. And I?ll fulfill my agenda of eliminating unnecessary holidays. Then I?ll step down.
The first year in office, I?ll kill Halloween. more
Blame Game Justice in the book
by Robert L. Hall (4-4-00)
I?m waiting for some nin the book
by C.P. Kaiser (8-8-00)
When we talk about progress, we need to distinguish between technical and personal, because, unfortunately, technical advancement doesn?t always promise personal improvement. This is no more evident than with cell phone (ab)users. The newest rage (double entendre intended) is commuters, shoppers, symphony patrons, etc., punching out their cell-phoned brethren who haven?t the couth to speak softly or privately. How many times have you huffed silently as your self-important neighbor on the bus, train, or subway nibbled on his Nokia loud enough to crack your dentures, or, at least, offend your decency? I?ve seen entire boxcars of passengers become as stony faced as Joan Rivers after someone?s cell phone conversation became a loud recounting of sexual exploits. more
Traffic Engineers (Slowly) Drive Me Crazy
by Andrew Turner (2-15-00)
You know, since I?ve been driving (legally and otherwise), I?ve noticed a lot of driving-related things that seem "wrong." more
40,000 Lies About the Culture of Violence in the book
by Scott Stein (7-22-99)
With the investigation into the "culture of violence" in full swing following the Columbine High School massacre in April 1999, it was reported by various news agencies on June 8, 1999, that President Clinton said the typical American will see 40,000 dramatized murders by the age of 18. more
Welcome to Planet Stupid
by Jody Lane (12-7-99)
As Y2K day steadily approaches, many Christian prophets are hailing it as the beginning of the end, or the end of the world as we know it?a profitable opinion for those prophets who had the foresight to begin selling solar flashlights via the Internet...
Taxed to the Max in the book
by Jason Stein (2-22-00)
On every paycheck you get, they take out City tax, State tax, and Federal tax. Then on April 15th, you have to pay Federal tax again! more
This is Your Brain, Unplugged in the book
by Robert L. Hall (2-15-00)
Two years ago I performed a simple task that saved my mental health: I turned off my television set. I have since had a life. more
An Open Letter to the Dirty Bastard Who Stole My Car in the book
by Scott Stein (6-6-00)
Two days ago I had a car. Not a great one, I guess. It didn?t talk and help me fight crime. It didn?t have welded doors and the ability to jump cars with no ramp in sight, like the General Lee. I never even once slid over the hood à la Starsky and Hutch. more
People Are Idiots... in the book
by Jody Lane (2-8-00)
Recently, I received an e-mail forwarded by a relative that claimed I was somehow "related to one out of every six people on the planet." No, I did not attempt to test the validity of the theory myself by actually determining my relationship to any one randomly chosen person on a planet of six billion. I have never been very good at math. I really didn?t have that much time to devote to it, and, well (OK, damn it), I guess some would say I?m just plain lazy. more
Why I Haven't Solved World Hunger in the book
by Andrew Turner (1-18-00)
You can pay $6 for a shirt. You can get T-shirts for less. You can also buy a DKNY shirt for, like, $80 to $100. Or more. more
A Kill Halloween Party in the book
by Suzanne Hakanen (10-24-00)
Remember when Howard Stern ran for governor of New York?
He had an agenda. He said, "Elect me. I?ll reinstate the death penalty and restrict road construction to evenings and weekends. Then I?ll step down."
A great man, Howard Stern. He understands how the morning commute affects your day.
I propose the same arrangement: Elect me for president. And I?ll fulfill my agenda of eliminating unnecessary holidays. Then I?ll step down.
The first year in office, I?ll kill Halloween. more
Blame Game Justice in the book
by Robert L. Hall (4-4-00)
I?m waiting for some nincompoop to jump up on a national news program and proclaim, "There is evidence today of a gene, just discovered, that is responsible for no self-control in the human behavior pattern." more
Gang Bang, Anyone? in the book
by Jason Stein (7-15-99)
When I hear stories of slashing another person as initiation into a gang, it?s almost too ridiculous to be believed. Is this what kids in public school have to look forward to? How are children supposed to learn anything when they?re always looking over their shoulders? more
Get the Book
When Falls the Coliseum: a journal of American culture (or lack thereof). The book contains over 100 of the funniest and most controversial essays, satires, debates, and stories from this Web site. Get your copy today from Free Reign Press. You can also get the book from amazon.com, bn.com, and bookstores.
incompoop to jump up on a national news program and proclaim, "There is evidence today of a gene, just discovered, that is responsible for no self-control in the human behavior pattern." more
Gang Bang, Anyone? in the book
by Jason Stein (7-15-99)
When I hear stories of slashing another person as initiation into a gang, it?s almost too ridiculous to be believed. Is this what kids in public school have to look forward to? How are children supposed to learn anything when they?re always looking over their shoulders? more
Get the Book
When Falls the Coliseum: a journal of American culture (or lack thereof). The book contains over 100 of the funniest and most controversial essays, satires, debates, and stories from this Web site. Get your copy today from Free Reign Press. You can also get the book from amazon.com, bn.com, and bookstores.
public school have to look forward to? How are children supposed to learn anything when they?re always looking over their shoulders? more
Get the Book
When Falls the Coliseum: a journal of American culture (or lack thereof). The book contains over 100 of the funniest and most controversial essays, satires, debates, and stories from this Web site. Get your copy today from Free Reign Press. You can also get the book from amazon.com, bn.com, and bookstores.
Press. You can also get the book from amazon.com, bn.com, and bookstores.
Way to go moron, you've reinvented to troll.
Better than people grasping for FP with:
FP!!!!
FP, I think!
Haha - FP!!!!
That what was all this school was for... to teach us how to solve our own problems. -- janeowit