I figured he just had a supermodel complex. I've met types that do. He's doting enough, makes lots of jokes, and tons of time for me. I just didn't expect that my 19-year-old look with the 30-year-old-salary was a *standard* instead of a *perk*.
In his defense, he reminds me that I'm hot now, appreciated, and loves to cuddle, though I expect this is an excuse to sleep in...
Immediate reaction is sortof just shrug it off. It's a bit odd that he'd hang a picture of *anyone*....he doesn't keep them around except for the family pics...but if he hung one, there must be a reason.
I'd probably get around to asking him in a week or so, but knee-jerk reaction is not a pressing one or to freak out. I guess I'd wonder/think about *why* he liked it, and what appealed to him.
Guess it's that girl-thing about wondering "What Are You Thinking?!" again...
Odd as it might sound, I certainly hope you're right. At least if it's my own fault, or if it was a bad judgement on my part then I can take control of the situation, and fix it....because the idea that the person I fell for just stopped being the person I fell for is certainly a sad one. I'd rather think I just mis-fired.
Yesterday, while sifting through the UK version of a Cosmo, I found the most remarkable ad I think I've ever seen. It was for a soap product, I think, but the photo was that of 20 Exactly Normal Looking Women. It occured to me that I dont think I've ever actually *seen* Normal Looking Women before...
I put the ad in front of my fiance, and watched. Over about seven seconds, his face turned from daily-default expression to smelling-onions-and-old-celery. "They're all tubby" he said. I was crushed.
I was crushed because I work out three times a week, pay all the bills, get paid roughly three times as much as he does, ride a motorcycle, have fabulous hair, very often get asked out, and this all adds up to one thing.
I can't be normal. I'm not allowed. If I get to be normal, it means that I've just lost whatever it was that made me.
I listen when he's having a horrible day. I dance when there's no music for no reason. I come home and work on the house-wifey duties, and I make him laugh so hard and so often that any tone in his stomach is at least 60% to my credit. I never thought that I'd have to figure out how to be a good mate despite being pretty because now being pretty is synonymous with being ditzy.
He is an engineer, and a mechanic, and one of the most nerdy guys I've ever met. He is doting, and flattering, and patient, and as long as I continue to be nothing short of a full-blown goddess, he will continue to be wonderful.
At least pretty-boys are low maintainance. At least jocks and players they know they're worthless, it actually turned them into better people. Nerds aren't the underdogs, they're the staple, now...and they know it.
Congratulations, you've heard of the SIPRNET. Now a few facts should intercede:
#1- No messages from the SIPRNET are transmitted over the internet. The encryption devices you are refering to are: a) not used to protect classified information from the public, they are used to segregate those with a similar clearance that have/have not a "need to know". b) not universal. or even common.
#2- The secure facilities that you mention are...nothing like what you mention. What you are referring to is known as a "SCIF", (Secured Compartmented Information Facility). A SCIF is a really really sturdy box. It typically houses a barrage of white-elephant technology experts who would kill for a window.
http://www.fas.org/irp/offdocs/dcid1-21.htm
#3- While many may see the advantage of "heavy use of fiber optics, pressurized conduits" etc, I'm afraid the ruling bodies in the DoD simply do not watch THAT many movies, and I think you would find the truth a bit lackluster. Security issues are addressed without the use of negative pressurization in doors, or any other such coolness. (Though the average scif is really devoid of dust now that I think about it...)
#4- "Fortunately I don't often have to deal with that stuff."
Then may I suggest not presenting as fact something that is not, especially about something you admit you are not a member of, let alone an expert.
Now, go ahead.
Ask me where I'm posting this from.
Hate to say it, but trollingstone is right. I'm a contractor, work as a test engineer and programmer. I have LOTS of stuff on my resume that says I'm much cooler than I really am.
My boyfriend is a mechanic. I'll bet a dollar he'll do better than me in 5 years. Mind you, I said he was a *mechanic*...NOT a parts-swapper.
He faces exactly the same issue that we do. Parts-swapping is easy, but working in a *machine shop* is a bit more difficult. The pay curve is also the polar opposite of ours.
They get nothing at start, and then roughly double their pay on an experience scale.
Compared to other industries, our starting salaries are GREAT....and then they might double once...maybe twice if you're really cool...but it's no where near commensurate with the experience.
Last night he made a joke about "the days of sweatshop programmers". After thinking about it?.. I'm begining to think I should take up welding.
The only part of it that I dont agree with is when he bogarts the bandwidth with porn and ebaumsworld. Besides, most of the surfing he does, I've been privvy to....either as a blushing spectator or as the typist. (How did you THINK I learned to translate the keystrokes? Psychic?!)
No. I do this to keep him on his toes. Its right up there with hearing the fridge door and hearing the milk top and distinctly NOT hearing any cabinet doors or countertops.
Men interpret this lack of noise as "quiet". WOMEN, however, interpret this as "drinking from carton, you barbarian, get a glass!"
I confessed being a voyeur in the first place. He knew. He's never met one before, and seems to think "its one of those things he loves me for". Admittedly, It creeps him out from time to time, but as long as I'm careful not to do it too often, it's still just me developing that mysterious spidey-sense that all mothers and wives seem to have.
He's adapting nicely...For my birthday, he installed a front-door peephole. I set him up with firefox and an awesome pop-up blocker. We've been doing this for five years, I think we'll be fine.
Oh, I dont have a problem with it, and it isn't really an invasion of privacy...I just do it from time to time to keep him on his toes. Adrenaline is good for you, and FABULOUS for the libido.
Most of his collection is actually shared off *my* collection, and I learned the tap-translations by *being present* (or the one typing) when the surfing is going on anyway. How did you THINK we learned this stuff?!
My only problem with his surfing is when he bogarts the bandwidth. Porn and Ebaumsworld are the bane of my hapless little wireless.
Besides, its my way of getting him back for putting the milk back in the cupboard when he gets a drink at 3am.
"When it comes to women, it will still just be a matter of how much you are willing to spend to get a piece of that self-absorbed, attention-seeking, validation-needing ass."
That's one hell of a generalization. I pay the rent, the bills, and the insurance. He's not job-less, I just make more. I work out regularly, ride a sportbike, and have been flattered with an assortment of compliments. I've got ALL the validation and attention I need just walking down the street.
I dont even LIKE diamonds, they're boring. I like tashmarines. (Re: about $35 a carat, but rare, and the COOLEST shade of green ever.)
The logic was that a diamond ring was a symbol, (perhaps even a flag?) of the relationship between us. And it is NOT a negotiation, it's a trinket reminder of the moment. It could be yarn.
He's the boy. The ring is HIS choice. If he chooses to give it to a money-grubbing trophy-wench with a measuring stick to everything, his failed marraige is HIS fault. You buy a yugo, you GET a yugo.
The ring is only as valuable as the person giving it. I can buy myself a padparasha sapphire or blue diamond any time I wanted. But I'm marrying a mechanic and engineer. He doesn't do ANYTHING illogical. This is the ultimate compliment.
Any woman who thinks otherwise, or any man who thinks this is a bribe of some sort is responsible for their own buggered relationship definition.
Mouseclicks followed by uncertain typing. Translation: searching password site, found one, trying to remember logon and password.
Mouseclicks followed by distinct double-key. Translation: searching password site, found one, trying to ctrl-V the password in so I dont get suspicious.
One Mouseclick followed by confident typing. Translation: The one site he actually subscribes to.
Almost no mouseclicks or typing at all, but the sound of the scrollbar. Translation: He got a winner. Time to wander in sleepy-eyed and innocently ask if he's coming to bed.
He now says that he's learned women are NEVER asleep. No matter how much you think we are.
-20? Buh. Here in the desert, (arizona) we dont deal with that.
Neither do most americans. Most of the year in most of the country most the population is cruising through gorgeous weather. At the very least, even with the areas that do sometimes get to be very inhospitable, you can still save hundreds of dollars a year on summer commutes to work, family, dinner, etc. Besides, motorcycle wrecks can usually be walked away from, often riden away from, and almost always very very inexpensive.
My morning commute between Baltimore and DC would have been a BREEZE if even a tenth of the morning commuters were on bikes.
Economical, environmentally friendly, cheap, fun, resourceful, etc. I used to think bike riders were freaks looking for their death. Turns out only the *stupid* riders catch their death...for the rest of us, it's just an alternative.
And with things going the way of gas prices and social security, we need all the money-saving tricks we can find.
Admittedly, my engine is only slightly larger than your average coke bottle, but when the vehicle is only 600 pounds *including me*, I dont mind this.
That coke bottle gives me 0-60 in under 4 seconds.
And does it on not quite 100 horsepower.
I get a little more than 200 miles per tank of gas...even though my tank is only 5 gallons. (Translation: I almost never pay more than $7 for a fill-up, and only do that twice a week, even though it's my primary vehicle.)
I am small enough that I park on sidewalks, legally. At $6500 brand new, and an insurance rate of $220 a YEAR, I'm thinking the euro's figured it out.
The crashing has even been pretty forgiving...after slamming head-on into a dodge caravan, I wasn't hurt, the dodge wasn't hurt, and it only cost me $800 in repairs to get back on the road. It's the ultimate economic vehicle.
I'm surprised that someone has brought it to light. The people who know silbo usually kept it to themselves, and were not fond of sharing the language with others.
La Gomera is the last of the Canary islands, one that has no access to the rest of the world save by ferry. The island is (not very well) known for a number of peculiar traits. The natives are not a fishing society despite living on an *island*, and they are known for a very very particular type of pottery they make there. (When asked if there were many who knew how to make pots in this fashion, a native answered "Oh yes, lots of us" and explained that at least 10 or 12 in the village knew the art.)
Barbara Kingsolver is an author who traveled to the island to escape the frenzy of the gulf war in the early 90's, and stumbled over the culture quite by accident. After some time there, she found that the language was designed to travel the great distances *that had nothing in between*. From one hilltop to another was fine, especially when there weren't many people in earshot, but in a building it would have no application, and we have a hard enough time hearing someone right next to us on the street. Imagine trying to listen to them around eighty others all whistling out to each other.
For great distances in hiking parties, or feild workers perhaps, but this has almost no application in a society that has already been *built* around the communication methods that we already have established.
I dont think so...While *in* Saudi, I had a lot of contact with the local contractors. "Ana moya" was explained to me as "my water". (Forgive my spelling here, but everything I learned was verbal) I believe the phrase "Ana ibatha moya" was "I want water" and "Anta ibatha moya" was a question..."Do you want water?" I could be mis-informed on this, if you have more background than I...then, well, I suppose you win this one! I may stand corrected on this one...
English isn't a language. It's a conglomeration of buzwords and derivatives. Anyone who's familiar with the south knows exactly what the word 'yun-to? is asking. But I dare you to find THAT in a dictionary.
Old languages reflect their old countries, and the ignorance isn't theirs, it's ours. We're still reducing love to a four letter word. How many times have you caught yourself saying "I can't say this the right way..." or "I dont know how to put it..."
In case you dont actually KNOW any german, french, or italian, we still can't figure out how to interpret the german line "to pull ones nose long" or the french phrase "l'evangile du Mal", but both have a meaning beyond just the translation. I call my loved ones "Anna Moya". It means "my water", seems a funny way of expressing endearment. My water? But, consider the source. It's arabic...water is a precious, rare, and life-sustaining thing. There is no higher praise.
Put yourself in his shoes for a moment, and take a look from the outside in. And try not to be quite so assenine about it in the future...We have an uncultured and bullish appearance enough as it is.
Yes. Banks, old satallite programs, messaging systems...etc.
I work with a group of eight other people updating 40 year old Assembler on an IBM Series 1. Something tells me that if this was included in our training programs, those that are
SUF
FER
ING
through the digit-crunching wouldn't have such a hard time. Most people consider this back-in-the-day, but there's an aaaawwwful lot out there that still reeks of old german engineering, and chunk-button ATMs.
For someone who hates blogging so much, I don't understand why you are arguing against something that isn't totally dissimilar to your posts here.
A few issues to address:
A) Mein Kampf was anything but scary. Long, poorly written and egotisticle, but definitively *not* scary. It does, however, illuminate conspiracy theories and give us a taste of the man who could sway thousands, something that our culture is almost *paranoid* about exposing us to.
B)Blogging is under exactly the same umbrella as chatting, IM's, Posts, Online journals, reviews and our roots in the BBS.
C) Google runs on a cache. If you don't *click* the *link*, it's priority is reduced, and it is eventually dropped from the result board all together. If it's up there, it's up there for a reason.
Slashdot Mirror
I figured he just had a supermodel complex. I've met types that do.
He's doting enough, makes lots of jokes, and tons of time for me.
I just didn't expect that my 19-year-old look with the 30-year-old-salary was a *standard* instead of a *perk*.
In his defense, he reminds me that I'm hot now, appreciated, and loves to cuddle, though I expect this is an excuse to sleep in...
Immediate reaction is sortof just shrug it off. It's a bit odd that he'd hang a picture of *anyone*....he doesn't keep them around except for the family pics...but if he hung one, there must be a reason.
I'd probably get around to asking him in a week or so, but knee-jerk reaction is not a pressing one or to freak out. I guess I'd wonder/think about *why* he liked it, and what appealed to him.
Guess it's that girl-thing about wondering "What Are You Thinking?!" again...
Odd as it might sound, I certainly hope you're right. At least if it's my own fault, or if it was a bad judgement on my part then I can take control of the situation, and fix it. ...because the idea that the person I fell for just stopped being the person I fell for is certainly a sad one. I'd rather think I just mis-fired.
SEE?!!
Men Understand Women Just Fine!!!
we knew you were lying...
Yesterday, while sifting through the UK version of a Cosmo, I found the most remarkable ad I think I've ever seen. It was for a soap product, I think, but the photo was that of 20 Exactly Normal Looking Women. It occured to me that I dont think I've ever actually *seen* Normal Looking Women before...
I put the ad in front of my fiance, and watched. Over about seven seconds, his face turned from daily-default expression to smelling-onions-and-old-celery. "They're all tubby" he said. I was crushed.
I was crushed because I work out three times a week, pay all the bills, get paid roughly three times as much as he does, ride a motorcycle, have fabulous hair, very often get asked out, and this all adds up to one thing.
I can't be normal. I'm not allowed. If I get to be normal, it means that I've just lost whatever it was that made me.
I listen when he's having a horrible day. I dance when there's no music for no reason. I come home and work on the house-wifey duties, and I make him laugh so hard and so often that any tone in his stomach is at least 60% to my credit. I never thought that I'd have to figure out how to be a good mate despite being pretty because now being pretty is synonymous with being ditzy.
He is an engineer, and a mechanic, and one of the most nerdy guys I've ever met. He is doting, and flattering, and patient, and as long as I continue to be nothing short of a full-blown goddess, he will continue to be wonderful.
At least pretty-boys are low maintainance. At least jocks and players they know they're worthless, it actually turned them into better people. Nerds aren't the underdogs, they're the staple, now...and they know it.
Congratulations boys, now you're the trophy.
Congratulations, you've heard of the SIPRNET. Now a few facts should intercede:
...nothing like what you mention. What you are referring to is known as a "SCIF", (Secured Compartmented Information Facility). A SCIF is a really really sturdy box. It typically houses a barrage of white-elephant technology experts who would kill for a window.
http://www.fas.org/irp/offdocs/dcid1-21.htm
#1- No messages from the SIPRNET are transmitted over the internet. The encryption devices you are refering to are:
a) not used to protect classified information from the public, they are used to segregate those with a similar clearance that have/have not a "need to know".
b) not universal. or even common.
#2- The secure facilities that you mention are
#3- While many may see the advantage of "heavy use of fiber optics, pressurized conduits" etc, I'm afraid the ruling bodies in the DoD simply do not watch THAT many movies, and I think you would find the truth a bit lackluster. Security issues are addressed without the use of negative pressurization in doors, or any other such coolness.
(Though the average scif is really devoid of dust now that I think about it...)
#4- "Fortunately I don't often have to deal with that stuff."
Then may I suggest not presenting as fact something that is not, especially about something you admit you are not a member of, let alone an expert.
Now, go ahead. Ask me where I'm posting this from.
Hate to say it, but trollingstone is right.
I'm a contractor, work as a test engineer and programmer. I have LOTS of stuff on my resume that says I'm much cooler than I really am.
My boyfriend is a mechanic. I'll bet a dollar he'll do better than me in 5 years. Mind you, I said he was a *mechanic*...NOT a parts-swapper.
He faces exactly the same issue that we do. Parts-swapping is easy, but working in a *machine shop* is a bit more difficult. The pay curve is also the polar opposite of ours.
They get nothing at start, and then roughly double their pay on an experience scale.
Compared to other industries, our starting salaries are GREAT....and then they might double once...maybe twice if you're really cool...but it's no where near commensurate with the experience.
Last night he made a joke about "the days of sweatshop programmers". After thinking about it?.. I'm begining to think I should take up welding.
The only part of it that I dont agree with is when he bogarts the bandwidth with porn and ebaumsworld. Besides, most of the surfing he does, I've been privvy to....either as a blushing spectator or as the typist. (How did you THINK I learned to translate the keystrokes? Psychic?!)
No. I do this to keep him on his toes. Its right up there with hearing the fridge door and hearing the milk top and distinctly NOT hearing any cabinet doors or countertops.
Men interpret this lack of noise as "quiet". WOMEN, however, interpret this as "drinking from carton, you barbarian, get a glass!"
I confessed being a voyeur in the first place. He knew. He's never met one before, and seems to think "its one of those things he loves me for". Admittedly, It creeps him out from time to time, but as long as I'm careful not to do it too often, it's still just me developing that mysterious spidey-sense that all mothers and wives seem to have.
He's adapting nicely...For my birthday, he installed a front-door peephole. I set him up with firefox and an awesome pop-up blocker. We've been doing this for five years, I think we'll be fine.
Oh, I dont have a problem with it, and it isn't really an invasion of privacy...I just do it from time to time to keep him on his toes. Adrenaline is good for you, and FABULOUS for the libido. Most of his collection is actually shared off *my* collection, and I learned the tap-translations by *being present* (or the one typing) when the surfing is going on anyway. How did you THINK we learned this stuff?! My only problem with his surfing is when he bogarts the bandwidth. Porn and Ebaumsworld are the bane of my hapless little wireless. Besides, its my way of getting him back for putting the milk back in the cupboard when he gets a drink at 3am.
How many of the commenters here work out regularly?
Good GOD, jaded.
Been Dumped lately?!
"When it comes to women, it will still just be a matter of how much you are willing to spend to get a piece of that self-absorbed, attention-seeking, validation-needing ass."
That's one hell of a generalization. I pay the rent, the bills, and the insurance. He's not job-less, I just make more.
I work out regularly, ride a sportbike, and have been flattered with an assortment of compliments.
I've got ALL the validation and attention I need just walking down the street.
I dont even LIKE diamonds, they're boring. I like tashmarines. (Re: about $35 a carat, but rare, and the COOLEST shade of green ever.)
The logic was that a diamond ring was a symbol, (perhaps even a flag?) of the relationship between us. And it is NOT a negotiation, it's a trinket reminder of the moment. It could be yarn.
He's the boy. The ring is HIS choice. If he chooses to give it to a money-grubbing trophy-wench with a measuring stick to everything, his failed marraige is HIS fault. You buy a yugo, you GET a yugo.
The ring is only as valuable as the person giving it. I can buy myself a padparasha sapphire or blue diamond any time I wanted.
But I'm marrying a mechanic and engineer. He doesn't do ANYTHING illogical.
This is the ultimate compliment.
Any woman who thinks otherwise, or any man who thinks this is a bribe of some sort is responsible for their own buggered relationship definition.
I bust my boyfriend like this all the time.
Mouseclicks.
Translation:
Searching.
Mouseclicks followed by uncertain typing.
Translation:
searching password site, found one, trying to remember logon and password.
Mouseclicks followed by distinct double-key.
Translation:
searching password site, found one, trying to
ctrl-V the password in so I dont get suspicious.
One Mouseclick followed by confident typing.
Translation:
The one site he actually subscribes to.
Almost no mouseclicks or typing at all, but the sound of the scrollbar.
Translation:
He got a winner. Time to wander in sleepy-eyed and innocently ask if he's coming to bed.
He now says that he's learned women are NEVER asleep. No matter how much you think we are.
This is true. ;)
Even I have a VW Beetle for the off-days.
-20? Buh. Here in the desert, (arizona) we dont deal with that.
Neither do most americans. Most of the year in most of the country most the population is cruising through gorgeous weather.
At the very least, even with the areas that do sometimes get to be very inhospitable, you can still save hundreds of dollars a year on summer commutes to work, family, dinner, etc.
Besides, motorcycle wrecks can usually be walked away from, often riden away from, and almost always very very inexpensive.
My morning commute between Baltimore and DC would have been a BREEZE if even a tenth of the morning commuters were on bikes.
Economical, environmentally friendly, cheap, fun, resourceful, etc. I used to think bike riders were freaks looking for their death. Turns out only the *stupid* riders catch their death...for the rest of us, it's just an alternative.
And with things going the way of gas prices and social security, we need all the money-saving tricks we can find.
Admittedly, my engine is only slightly larger than your average coke bottle, but when the vehicle is only 600 pounds *including me*, I dont mind this.
a _fz6/
That coke bottle gives me 0-60 in under 4 seconds.
And does it on not quite 100 horsepower.
I get a little more than 200 miles per tank of gas...even though my tank is only 5 gallons. (Translation: I almost never pay more than $7 for a fill-up, and only do that twice a week, even though it's my primary vehicle.)
I am small enough that I park on sidewalks, legally.
At $6500 brand new, and an insurance rate of $220 a YEAR, I'm thinking the euro's figured it out.
The crashing has even been pretty forgiving...after slamming head-on into a dodge caravan, I wasn't hurt, the dodge wasn't hurt, and it only cost me $800 in repairs to get back on the road. It's the ultimate economic vehicle.
Buy a motorcycle. This one is mine, but there are as many bikes as there are personalities.
http://www.sportrider.com/bikes/2004/146_04_yamah
"Your fiancee is only marrying you because she doesn't want to have to be self-sufficient"
Ya butthead, I AM the "she", and I TRIPLE his salary!!
He's a bike mechanic.
I definately married him for luuuv. (and sex. whatever.)
But first, we will have to STEAL a building....
News to me, but then, my latest update on the island was in the early nineties... I assume the airports are relatively recent?
I'm surprised that someone has brought it to light. The people who know silbo usually kept it to themselves, and were not fond of sharing the language with others.
La Gomera is the last of the Canary islands, one that has no access to the rest of the world save by ferry. The island is (not very well) known for a number of peculiar traits. The natives are not a fishing society despite living on an *island*, and they are known for a very very particular type of pottery they make there. (When asked if there were many who knew how to make pots in this fashion, a native answered "Oh yes, lots of us" and explained that at least 10 or 12 in the village knew the art.)
Barbara Kingsolver is an author who traveled to the island to escape the frenzy of the gulf war in the early 90's, and stumbled over the culture quite by accident. After some time there, she found that the language was designed to travel the great distances *that had nothing in between*. From one hilltop to another was fine, especially when there weren't many people in earshot, but in a building it would have no application, and we have a hard enough time hearing someone right next to us on the street. Imagine trying to listen to them around eighty others all whistling out to each other.
For great distances in hiking parties, or feild workers perhaps, but this has almost no application in a society that has already been *built* around the communication methods that we already have established.
I dont think so...While *in* Saudi, I had a lot of contact with the local contractors. "Ana moya" was explained to me as "my water". (Forgive my spelling here, but everything I learned was verbal)
I believe the phrase "Ana ibatha moya" was "I want water" and "Anta ibatha moya" was a question..."Do you want water?"
I could be mis-informed on this, if you have more background than I...then, well, I suppose you win this one! I may stand corrected on this one...
English isn't a language. It's a conglomeration of buzwords and derivatives. Anyone who's familiar with the south knows exactly what the word 'yun-to? is asking. But I dare you to find THAT in a dictionary.
Old languages reflect their old countries, and the ignorance isn't theirs, it's ours. We're still reducing love to a four letter word. How many times have you caught yourself saying "I can't say this the right way..." or "I dont know how to put it..."
In case you dont actually KNOW any german, french, or italian, we still can't figure out how to interpret the german line "to pull ones nose long" or the french phrase "l'evangile du Mal", but both have a meaning beyond just the translation. I call my loved ones "Anna Moya". It means "my water", seems a funny way of expressing endearment. My water? But, consider the source. It's arabic...water is a precious, rare, and life-sustaining thing. There is no higher praise.
Put yourself in his shoes for a moment, and take a look from the outside in.
And try not to be quite so assenine about it in the future...We have an uncultured and bullish appearance enough as it is.
Just hit. 10,000 hits like that, and they're now looking for alternative servers. Sorry guys.
Yes. Banks, old satallite programs, messaging systems...etc.
I work with a group of eight other people updating 40 year old Assembler on an IBM Series 1. Something tells me that if this was included in our training programs, those that are
SUF
FER
ING
through the digit-crunching wouldn't have such a hard time. Most people consider this back-in-the-day, but there's an aaaawwwful lot out there that still reeks of old german engineering, and chunk-button ATMs.
For someone who hates blogging so much, I don't understand why you are arguing against something that isn't totally dissimilar to your posts here.
A few issues to address:
A) Mein Kampf was anything but scary. Long, poorly written and egotisticle, but definitively *not* scary. It does, however, illuminate conspiracy theories and give us a taste of the man who could sway thousands, something that our culture is almost *paranoid* about exposing us to.
B)Blogging is under exactly the same umbrella as chatting, IM's, Posts, Online journals, reviews and our roots in the BBS.
C) Google runs on a cache. If you don't *click* the *link*, it's priority is reduced, and it is eventually dropped from the result board all together. If it's up there, it's up there for a reason.