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Charles Carreon Finally Surrenders To the Oatmeal
First time accepted submitter Guy From V writes "Charles Carreon, zany lawyer and poster-child for the Streisand Effect (sorry Babs) for his lawsuit against The Oatmeal creator Mattew Innman last year in his original role as legal counsel for Funnyjunk, as reported by ArsTechnica, seems to have finally called it quits. In other news, the River Styx has reportedly dropped below 32 degrees Fahrenheit."
I will sue anyone who mocks me in this thread! - CC
Hopefully it involves Sriracha, bears, and blasphemous sexual positions.
Here's to hot beer, cold women, and Glaswegian kisses for all.
That's too bad. It was very entertaining to watch Mr. Carreon find new and innovative ways to dig his hole deeper and deeper.
What doesn't kill you only delays the inevitable
Despite being the one who got the ball rolling with the vexatious litigation and absurd threats in the first place, he appears to have learned absolutely nothing from the experience, blaming his failure on the fact that he doesn't have sufficient 'legal remedy' against people calling his idiocy idiotic online, and even manages to drop in a self-pitying line about how lawsuits are just occupying too much of his time.
Guy is so dense and immutable that he could probably be sliced into thin layers and used as armor plate.
(And, since he is a master of good taste and his wife is even crazier, they've given the world http://rapeutation.com/ complete with caricatures (and the guy complains that there aren't enough laws against saying mean things on the internet?) of their enemies. Class act guys, class act.)
The Forbes site linked to in TFS is quite funny. There's a hilarious article on why insider trading is a good thing. In some ways it out-onions the onion.
Confucius say, "Find worm in apple - bad. Find half a worm - worse."
So the problem is not that he was attempting to bring a lawsuit that was clearly without merit in order to harass an innocent comedian, but that the internet mob can't be reasoned with or controlled?
I agree it can't be controlled, and he's a pretty stupid guy for not realizing that going in. But maybe he should also admit (at least to himself) that he's a horrible piece of shit that hates free speech.
Charles Carreon. You're a fucking asshole.
I am becoming gerund, destroyer of verbs.
You know that's not true, and is just another Republican malfunction. It's actually really good that the Republicans live in a fantasy world made of straw-men though, it means they'll be on the scrap-heap of history very soon outside of the deep south.
We need a second party to counter the Democrats, but the Republicans are too far gone for that role.
Well, we're getting pretty far off topic, but two things:
1) Buddhism doesn't have a concept of the 'soul' in the same way as Western religions. The thing which would get reincarnated/lasts after you die isn't "you", but you're a subset of "it" and much more transient. The concept of self and what survives human life is a little different.
2) There's two major schools of Buddhism (and this is a very huge over-simplification): Therevada and Mahayana Buddism; with Theravada being more focused on your own enlightenment (for the reasons you cite), and Mahayana (literally 'the greater oxcart') which has an emphasis on enlightenment of everyone and helping them get there.
So, talking about bringing someone's 'soul' to enlightenment doesn't quite match up with the concepts in Buddhism.
Working to bring other people to enlightenment and benefit all, however, is a feature of all the Mahayana schools (Chan Buddhism in China, Zen in Japan, and all of the Tibetan schools). The Theravada stuff tends to be in and around Thailand/Vietnam.
But it is important to remember Buddhism isn't monolithic, and while they'll agree on some core stuff, there's probably some esoteric places where they differ by quite a bit.
Lost at C:>. Found at C.
You need legal representation. You can not represent yourself. Your two options are Charles Carreon and Jack Thompson. Who do you choose?
Due to circumstances beyond my control, I am master of my fate and captain of my soul.
It's called journalistic prose numbnuts, this isn't an academic paper, nobody gives a shit about run-on sentences in the real world.
Because they either get bored or irritated trying to make sense of them and eventually -- but not before getting a headache and taking some aspirin and having a bit of a lie-down in order to give the aspirin time to work and to soothe the aforementioned head -- quit trying to mentally diagram it and just skip it and plow on in the hopes that the rest of the document, unlikely as it sounds, will be more readable, and perhaps the prosaic period will be understood in learning the larger context in which it appeared, or, alternatively, just stop reading entirely based on the assumption that the whole piece will be just like it, resulting in even greater frustration that can only be relieved by tying an onion to one's belt and taking the ferry to Morgantown?
I am not a crackpot.
I believe I can translate and make for a shorter read at the same time:
Haw HEhawwwwwwwwww, He HAWWWwwwwwwww.
OK, that's 273.15 Kelvin. Feel better?
My home town nearly went to zero Kevins back in 1978.
It was a particularly cold winter, and we were already down to 3 Kevins (due to their low popularity at the time).
Kevin Thomas had flown out to be with his son's family for a wedding and got stuck in Boston for a whole week due to the weather. 2 Kevins left.
Kevin Lemmer was rushed to the hospital during my shift. I still remember the call from the EMTs as the ambulance was rushing toward us. "It's Lemmer. He's in bad shape. Drove right into the fucking ditch." We called the time of death at 6:15 PM.
At 6:16, all eyes turned to room 2217. Kevin Spencer was 82 and on his death bed with leukemia. His family being Catholic, he had already been given his last rites. If he couldn't hold out until Kevin Thomas returned, we would be at zero Kevins. Sure, we had 4 perfectly healthy Calvins, but they're just not the same.
It was 7:15 when Carla Brooks and her husband James burst through the main entrance. "She's not due for 2 weeks!", James exclaimed. As the staff bustled around getting the Brookses settled, they exchanged darting glances with each other. This was their first child, and they wanted to keep the baby's sex a secret. Of course, in a small town, secrets don't get kept. Nearly all of the hospital staff new that the child about to rip open Mrs. Brooks was indeed a boy.
The delivery was routine, and Kevin Brooks was born healthy, if a tad underweight, at 10:52 PM. Kevin Spencer was pronounced dead at 10:54.
It was, as they say, a close one. Kevin Thomas arrived two days later, the weather having finally cleared up. To this day, we still rib him about it.
Cedar Falls is currently at 5 Kevins.
Wilford Brimley is pleased, and hopes he won't get diabeetus.
Sorry for the horrible analogy:
Oxygen and the air pressure are always being monitored. In the event of a decompression, an oxygen mask will automatically appear in front of you. To start the flow of oxygen, pull the mask towards you. Place it firmly over your nose and mouth, secure the elastic band behind your head, and breathe normally. Although the bag does not inflate, oxygen is flowing to the mask.If you are travelling with a child or someone who requires assistance, secure your own mask first, and then assist the other person. Keep your mask on until a uniformed crew member advises you to remove it.
Required reading for internet skeptics