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Need... More... Power...
MikeDawg writes "After dealing with the headache of never having enough electrical outlets, not having a cable TV coaxial, not having a telephone hookup in the right places of my apartment, I found this article at CNN. It is nice to see that college dorm rooms are getting filled with outlets to provide students with enough hook-ups with for all their electronics. My question to you (renters/dorm-room dwellers) is does your dorm room or apartment have enough outlets, whether it be electrical, cable, telephone, or anything else you may need? What do you do in a situation like this? Do you load up each socket with a 10+ port power strip (or battery backup as it may be) and pray that you don't knock-out the circuit everytime you start burning a CD?"
I filled up many outlets in college. Primary post! Will of warrior triumphs again!
You'd better be praying that the RIAA doesn't detect it and barge into the room with big guns and a hundred police officers. Not to mention pulling the power plug just before entry...
By Joseph Nicolosi, Ph.D., and Linda Ames Nicolosi
At the very heart of the homosexual condition is conflict about gender. In the boy, we usually see a gender wound tracing back to childhood. He comes to see himself as different from other boys.
Gender woundedness usually exists as a silent, secret fear -- one that the boy's parents and loved ones only vaguely suspect. The boy has felt this way for as long as he is able to remember. That differentness creates a feeling of inferiority and isolates him from other males.
For some little boys, the gender confusion is obvious. Let me begin with one little boy whose case is unusually dramatic.
Stevie's Story
As a clinical psychologist who has treated hundreds of dissatisfied adult homosexual men, I get phone calls from all over the world. But with increasing frequency, the request concerns a child. Most of the people who call me are dedicated parents who want the best for their child, and I strive to guide, educate and support them.
The particular caller one day, my secretary informed me, was from nearby Pasadena, California. I picked up the receiver and heard a woman's voice on the other end of the line.
"Doctor, my name is Margaret Johnson," she began. Her voice quavered.
For one long moment, I thought we might have been disconnected.
"Are you there? Can I help you?"
"Well, I ... I think I saw you a couple of weeks ago on
television. That was you, wasn't it? You were debating a
psychiatrist?"
"It's possible," I said. I had been on a national TV show two weeks before, jousting with a gay activist who had become a familiar figure on the talk show circuit. "You probably mean the debate with Dr. Isay."
"Yes," she said. "You were on a show that talked about little boys who want to be little girls."
"That's right," I said. "We were doing a show about gender confusion."
This time Mrs. Johnson spoke up with determination and urgency.
"Doctor, you were describing my son Stevie. He's a beautiful little boy, a special child. But..." She hesitated. "Stevie's fascinated with little-girl things. Even more so than my daughters. In fact, he just loves the colors pink and red. He even, well, plays with Barbie dolls and dances around the house on tiptoes like a ballerina."
As I listened, Mrs. Johnson gave me a few more specifics. Her son was five. "I've been noticing this kind of behavior for almost two years," she explained.
To me, that length of time was significant. It is okay if a little boy wonders what he would look like wearing long blonde curls and so he tries wearing a wig, simply to be silly. There is nothing particularly alarming about that. But if he keeps on doing it and has little interest in "boy" things, there likely is a problem.
"This has been going on for two years?" I asked.
I think Mrs. Johnson misinterpreted my question as a rebuke. She sounded a little defensive. "But his teacher said not to worry, it was just a passing phase. So did my mother-in-law. She even gives Stevie her scarves and jewelry to try on. 'Grandma,' she tells him, 'adores her little baby doll.' "
"And you've been hoping they were right, that this is just a childhood phase."
"Yes. But I really do think there's something wrong." By now, Mrs.Johnson's voice sounded sharp and determined.
"Last week," she said, "Stevie insisted on getting him a Pocahontas doll. And then I saw you on TV. You were describing my son, Dr. Nicolosi. And if you're right, then Stevie will grow up?"
She hesitated, as if afraid to say the word. "He'll be gay. That's what you said. And to be honest, that's why I called
Still off real food there, krout?
Fucking cross-dressing geeks.
Sure a spaghetti mess of powerboards and double adapter is all good and well until you blow a fuse.
Beings aspergers AND pulling chicks... I enjoy the challenge!
socialist propaganda like "fire-extinguisher101.com"
In what sense of the the word "socialist" is this site socialistic?
Because it is social not to burn down your house and that of your neighbor?
Isn't it a good capitalistic practice to frighten people to make them buy your products?
Perhaps you should make your anti-socialist propaganda a bit more subtle?
Yep, but just to correct you a little, it was a fission reactor, not a fusion reactor.
Would he have built a fusion reactor, we would know is name by heart, as the rest of the planet, like we know Einstein.
Remember the year 2000? They promised us flying cars. They delivered the PT Cruiser...
I remember quite well that my shared apartment (4 students) had to support exactly the following appliances:
- 1 refrigerator
- 1 air conditioner
- 3 notebook computers
- 1 WLAN router and DSL modem
- 1 bubble-jet printer
- 1 "boom box" and approximately 200CDs (1 suitcase) for parties and nice evenings with friends
- 2-3 lamps in each room (roughly
- 1 electric razor
- 1 gas stove with electric ignition
We had *very* good times there, lots of guests and interesting debates. Many books. And almost no spare time, because we were *studying*.
I don't know how people think they can *LEARN* something in a DVD/TV/radio contaminated area. Studying with the TV on is not very effective. Besides, there was absolutely NOTHING interesting on TV or radio in NYC. All the news we needed, we found on the internet.