You scored as Scientific Atheist, These guys rule. I’m not one of them myself, although I play one online. They know the rules of debate, the Laws of Thermodynamics, and can explain evolution in fifty words or less. More concerned with how things ARE than how they should be, these are the people who will bring us into the future.
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What kind of atheist are you?
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I somehow missed these gems of ’80s cartoon shows:
There really was a show called Dinosaucers. Somehow, history has mostly forgotten the show…can’t imagine why.
I actually remember M.A.S.K., a little bit.
Basically, though, it would appear that everything is a derivative of Battle of the Planets, Transformers, Gobots, and Speed Racer, or some combination thereof. I’m especially amazed they were able to attach a plot to Pole Position.
I’m leaving Jem out on purpose, by the way.
While we’re at it, enjoy some ’80s commercials as well:
Where do people get these from? VHS tapes generally don’t survive that long.
One final question: wouldn’t being hit by a giant piece of fruit provoke some reaction other than laughter? I guess I just don’t get Bonkers.
This one is just painful to watch…poor George.
For no reason whatsoever, I now present the full lyrics to Finnegan’s Wake:
Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin Street, a gentle Irishman mighty odd
He had a brogue both rich and sweet, an’ to rise in the world he carried a hod
You see he’d a sort of a tipplers way but the love for the liquor poor Tim was born
To help him on his way each day, he’d a drop of the craythur every mornWhack fol the dah now dance to yer partner around the flure yer trotters shake
Wasn’t it the truth I told you? Lots of fun at Finnegan’s WakeOne morning Tim got rather full, his head felt heavy which made him shake
Fell from a ladder and he broke his skull, and they carried him home his corpse to wake
Rolled him up in a nice clean sheet, and laid him out upon the bed
A bottle of whiskey at his feet and a barrel of porter at his headWhack fol the dah now dance to yer partner around the flure yer trotters shake
Wasn’t it the truth I told you? Lots of fun at Finnegan’s WakeHis friends assembled at the wake, and Mrs Finnegan called for lunch
First she brought in tay and cake, then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch
Biddy O’Brien began to cry, “Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever see,
Tim avourneen, why did you die?”, “Will ye hould your gob?” said Paddy McGeeWhack fol the dah now dance to yer partner around the flure yer trotters shake
Wasn’t it the truth I told you? Lots of fun at Finnegan’s WakeThen Maggie O’Connor took up the job, “Biddy” says she “you’re wrong, I’m sure”
Biddy gave her a belt in the gob and left her sprawling on the floor
Then the war did soon engage, t’was woman to woman and man to man
Shillelagh law was all the rage and a row and a ruction soon beganWhack fol the dah now dance to yer partner around the flure yer trotters shake
Wasn’t it the truth I told you? Lots of fun at Finnegan’s WakeMickey Maloney ducked his head when a bucket of whiskey flew at him
It missed, and falling on the bed, the liquor scattered over Tim
Bedad he revives, see how he rises, Timothy rising from the bed
Saying “Whittle your whiskey around like blazes, t’underin’ Jaysus, do ye think I’m dead?”Whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner around the flure yer trotters shake
Wasn’t it the truth I told you? Lots of fun at Finnegan’s WakeWhack fol the dah now dance to yer partner around the flure yer trotters shake
Wasn’t it the truth I told you? Lots of fun at Finnegan’s Wake
I started having this thought after watching Zoolander for about the 50th time recently about how undemocratic the “fashion” business is. By that, I mean the decision from on high to introduce new styles or bring certain styles back, presumably because it is the only way to ensure that people will spend a shitload of money every year on overpriced clothing. (NOTE: Aside from the handful of links above, I have done no research whatsoever into the economics of clothing. I just know that I never pay attention to what is “in” this “season.”) To me, it all seems very communist. Actually, I like the term “fashion fascist,” now that I think about it.
I typically buy all of my clothing at one of three locations, and don’t get rid of anything until it falls apart. I do occasionally spend a gift certificate somewhere more chi-chi, and it was during one of these trips that I had something of an epiphany: the saleswoman was trying to sell me an obscenely expensive argyle sweater. Given that it was 2007 and I am in my early 30’s, I asked why the hell would I consider spending $100 on a butt-ugly argyle sweater.
“Because argyle is back,” she said.
I pondered that for a moment, then calmly explained that, if argyle is indeed “back,” that means that it must have gone away at some point. That also means that it will go away again, and I will be out $100 for a sweater that I could only wear for one “season.” Screw that. To be fair to her, though, it really does seem to be back.
To give you an example of my thriftiness, I own three suits. Total. These suits were purchased in 1995, 1999, and 2001. They all still fit, and they are all still in prime condition (ironically, the newest one is showing the most signs of wear). Apparently, fashions have changed regarding cuffed pants legs or something like that, but I just figure anyone who spends enough time looking at my feet to develop an opinion about the stylishness of the part of the pants that might accidentally brush the ground is not someone I need to be overly concerned about, because they will eventually bump their head on something sharp and go into a coma and I won’t have to listen to their fashion tips anymore.
The reason I am posting this now is because I came across this while looking for something for Zeta:
Argyle is back and perfectly styled for your Yuppie Puppy. Dress your pup in the hottest trend!
I think that should be the sign that a trend has gotten too hot when it can be used in the same sentence as “Yuppie Puppy.” I think my dog would rip my throat out while I slept if I tried to turn her into a “Yuppie Puppy,” and I think I would let her do it if it had come to that.
I have always been a fan of maps, but I must admit I haven’t spent as much time looking at them lately as I did when I was a kid. It recently occurred to me that I have a certain obligation, as an intelligent human and taxpaying American, to understand the geography of these countries we are occupying, because I’m not sure the folks in charge fully understand it. I’m happy to share a bit of what I have learned, although “what I have learned” mostly amounts to a broadened understanding of my own ignorance. Iraq’s geography includes tribes and ethnoreligious groups we rarely hear about on the news. Two maps particularly intrigued me:
—Iraq: Distribution of Ethnoreligious Groups and Major Tribes From Iraq: Country Profile [map], CIA, January 2003 (215K) and pdf format (216K)
—Iraq: Distribution of Religious Groups and Ethnic Groups from Map No. 503930 1978 (163K)
I had never heard of the Yazidi before this week, although they may have been the subject of an earlier post. I also had no idea the Mandaeans were still around. On the ethnic side of things, you have the Kurds, the Iranians, the Turkomen (not to be confused with Turks), the Assyrians, and so forth. That’s at least three different religions (four if you count Sunni and Shia separately, along with Yezidi and Madaeanism, not to mention random Jewish and Christian populations) and five languages (Arabic, Kurdish, Aramaic, Persian, and Turkic).
Afghanistan is even more fun (so to speak). I’m not even going to try to count all the provinces. The 11 ethnolinguistic groups listed on at least one map are also quite diverse: some Iranian language family, some Turkic, a little bit of “Other” thrown in.
Given how determined some people are to have a single official language here in the U.S., I kind of wonder if we can ever really understand the hodgepodge that is these two countries.
Man, that’s kind of depressing. I hope you were at least enlightened a little.
Dear Democrats (you know who you are):
The election is a long way away, and yet you seem to already be fretting about how mean the Repubs are going to be to you if Hillary or–gasp–Al Gore gets the nomination and makes electioneering that much more of a challenge. First off, the Repubs aren’t exactly awash in popularity right now. Second, it’s not like you don’t have a lot of time between now and the election to, you know, campaign. It has been pointed out so many times that my head hurts that the Repubs’ use of fear, and fear alone, as a campaign strategy is only effective if you let it be effective. Now quit your damn whining and start doing something, or else I’m going to start an American offshoot of Poland’s Beer Lovers’ Party, and we’re going to win us some elections.
Sincerely,
CP, Esq.
I find the “blog” of “unnecessary” quotation marks to be a fund diversion (h/t Orin Kerr).
A somewhat moronic pastime for my friends and me during periods of drunkenness in college was to put unnecessary “finger quotes” around literal phrases (e.g. After your date, do you plan on having “sexual intercourse?”)
Yes, we were dorks. Still, it’s “nice” to see the tradition “continued.”
I think I will start a whole separate category for making fun of Bill O’Reilly, because he makes it so dang easy. First he was warning us of roving gangs of lesbians, and now here is a humorous deconstruction of how he may be stiffening his loofah for Matt Damon. The jokes write themselves, I tell you.
UPDATE, March 2, 2012: I don’t have some of those categories anymore since I switched blog platforms.
It seems Bush the Elder, awash in criticism of Bush the Lesser, is sad about the whole affair. I say suck it up and reap what you have sown–I second the thoughts offered by No More Mr. Nice Blog, who clearly had more coffee in his system when he wrote his post.
This was strange cognitive dissonance. An op/ed from a Californian appears today, discussing the kindness of Texans, including one who stopped to render aid when his hippie-mobile (sorry, Prius) broke down by the side of the road. Then there is an article about a shootout that killed three people in Dallas–two people stopped to help what they thought was a motorist who had just had a wreck, but then said motorist shot both of them and killed himself.
There’s really no point to this post, other than to say it’s a fucked-up world, and most Texans really are very nice.
