Doggedly searching for the crux of the biscuit.
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Comedian Mitch Hedberg, dead at 37 from an overdose.
"I used to do drugs. I still do, but I used to, too."
Republicans, if you spend two and a half decades sucking up to the wacko religious right, be prepared to reap the whirlwind.
Norm Olson, senior adviser to the Michigan militia and pastor of a strong right-to-life church in Wolverine, said Tuesday he had put together an unarmed coalition of state militias that were prepared to storm the Florida hospice where Terri Schiavo has been left to die, and take her to a safe house. Olson said he needed only the OK from Schiavo's father, Robert Schindler, either directly or through his attorney David Gibbs, to put the plan, called "Operation Resurrection," into action on Sunday. But Olson said Gibbs contacted the FBI instead of passing his message on to Schindler. [...]
Olson said that last Thursday he phoned Gibbs' secretary with a message that he had organized 1,500 to 2,000 militia members from Texas, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, Florida, Georgia and Michigan, who were ready to remove Schiavo from the hospice and take her in a convoy to a safe house. [...]
"We would have overwhelmed the local law enforcement," Olson said, adding the militias would not have been armed.
Sure, and if you believe that, I've got a bridge to sell you. Those guys don't go anywhere without guns. And just in case you had any doubt whether these folks are legitimately nuts:
"We the people are the final judges, not the black-robed demons. I do not believe that 70 percent of the American people thought it was wrong for government to get involved. They turned around when they believed Terri Schiavo's was a lost cause and wanted to be on the winning side. America has lost hope because, where there's life there's hope, but it is the black-robed devils who are deciding who lives and dies."
These are your allies, Republicans. They aren't the fringe of your party, they are the carefully cultivated cornerstone of your electoral coalition. I've been screaming for years that if you empowered these lunatics, we would all come to regret it. The pro-life death threats have already begun and rest assured, this is just their opening salvo. It has been interesting watching the various folks on the right suddenly grow dismayed, as if this sort of behavior hasn't always been the way these clowns react to everything. Well, you people brought them, you people have to dance with them. I'm going out back to get drunk.
(via AmericaBlog)
Henry Raddick's Amazon book reviews are hilarious.
---
Turbocharge Your Writing!: The Vitale Instant Writing Method
by Joe Vitale
Edition: Paperback
Availability: This item is currently unavailable.
49 of 55 people found the following review helpful:
Yeah, September 1, 2002
A superb guide to turbocharging your writing. It really works, and I can do little more than echo the praise of my fellow reviewer from Tianjin.
---
(via Horklog)
Poet Robert Creeley died this morning at the age of 78. As William Matthews said in his eulogy of W.H Auden:
The language has used him
well and passed him through.
We get what he has collected.
Creeley published the following poem in 1996, in Andrei Codrescu's journal, The Exquisite Corpse.
Now I recognize
it was always me
like a camera
set to expose
itself to a picture
or a pipe
through which the water
might run
or a chicken
dead for dinner
or a plan
inside the head
of a dead man.
Nothing so wrong
when one considered
how it all began.
It was Zukofsky's
"Born very young into a world
already very old..."
The century was well along
when I came in
and now that it's ending,
I realize it won't
be long.
But couldn't it all have been
a little nicer,
as my mother'd say. Did it
have to kill everything in sight,
did right always have to be so wrong?
I know this body is impatient.
I know I constitute only a meager voice and mind.
Yet I loved, I love.
I want no sentimentality.
I want no more than home.
Just the headline alone ("NASA tests shape-shifting robot pyramid for nanotech swarms") is an eyecatcher, but the article is even more fascinating.
The robot is called "TETwalker" for tetrahedral walker, because it resembles a tetrahedron (a pyramid with 3 sides and a base). In the prototype, electric motors are located at the corners of the pyramid called nodes. The nodes are connected to struts which form the sides of the pyramid. The struts telescope like the legs of a camera tripod, and the motors expand and retract the struts. This allows the pyramid to move: changing the length of its sides alters the pyramid's center of gravity, causing it to topple over. The nodes also pivot, giving the robot great flexibility.
In January 2005, the prototype was shipped to McMurdo station in Antarctica to test it under harsh conditions more like those on Mars. The test indicated some modifications will increase its performance; for example, placing the motors in the middle of the struts rather than at the nodes will simplify the design of the nodes and increase their reliability.
The team anticipates TETwalkers can be made much smaller by replacing their motors with Micro- and Nano-Electro-Mechanical Systems. Replacement of the struts with metal tape or carbon nanotubes will not only reduce the size of the robots, it will also greatly increase the number that can be packed into a rocket because tape and nanotube struts are fully retractable, allowing the pyramid to shrink to the point where all its nodes touch.
These miniature TETwalkers, when joined together in "swarms," will have great advantages over current systems. The swarm has abundant flexibility so it can change its shape to accomplish highly diverse goals. For example, while traveling through a planet's atmosphere, the swarm might flatten itself to form an aerodynamic shield. Upon landing, it can shift its shape to form a snake-like swarm and slither away over difficult terrain. If it finds something interesting, it can grow an antenna and transmit data to Earth. Highly-collapsible material can also be strung between nodes for temperature control or to create a deployable solar sail.
Additionally, the nodes will be designed to disconnect and reconnect to different struts. If a meteoroid or rough landing punches a hole in the swarm, the system can heal itself by rejoining undamaged nodes. "Spacecraft are so expensive because failure in a single component can cripple the entire spacecraft, so extensive testing and redundant systems are employed to reduce the chance of catastrophic failure. We wouldn't live long if our bodies worked like this. Instead, when we get hurt, new cells replace the damaged ones. In a similar way, undamaged units in a swarm will join together, allowing it to tolerate extensive damage and still carry out its mission," said Curtis.
Of course, this is probably the first step on the road to the Matrix, but it will nonetheless be pretty interesting in these years before we're enslaved, lobotomized, and milked for our bioenergy.
Burger King halfheartedly throws its hat in the ring.
On Monday, the No. 2 fast-food chain launches its Enormous Omelet Sandwich. How enormous? For those counting: one sausage patty, two eggs, two American cheese slices and three strips of bacon. On a bun. For those still counting, that's four layers of breakfast with 730 calories oozing 47 grams of fat. For about $2.99, depending on the market.
Pshaw. Enormous, that ain't. You guys have only barely clawed your way in front of McDonald's 720-calorie Big Breakfast Platter. My first plate at a Shoney's breakfast bar typically has four to five times that much meat, and I require multiple plates. The nutrition cops are, of course, aghast. "More calories and fat than a Whopper!" Yeah, but a Whopper isn't all that. I mean really, people: Hardee's Monster Thickburger has 1420 calories and 107 grams of fat, and that's their sixth 1000+ calorie sandwich. BK's new creation may as well be a spirulina-wheatgrass smoothie compared to real contenders like The Hamdog, which doesn't even bother with nutritional information because mathematics hasn't yet named numbers that large. If Burger King dipped the Enormous Omelet Sandwich in batter, deep-fried it, and sprinkled it with powdered sugar, then maybe, maybe, they'd have something to crow about.
Amateurs.
An attorney serving as VP of the Round Rock, Texas school board has gotten himself into a bit of trouble.
According to the warrant, Leigh Heavin of Round Rock called Copenhaver on Feb. 23 and asked if he could represent her husband in a criminal case. She told him that she did not have much money and asked if they could arrange a payment plan, according to the warrant. Copenhaver told Heavin that they could work something out and asked her if she had any good-looking friends, according to the warrant. He told her that he had fantasized about two women having sex together, according to the warrant.
The next day, Copenhaver came to Heavin's apartment shortly after her sister-in-law, Malinda Tilley, had dropped in, the warrant said. Unknown to Copenhaver, it said, Heavin's mental health caseworker, her mother and her husband were in a back bedroom. Copenhaver asked Tilley and Heavin to perform sexual favors for him, according to the warrant. When the women asked "what they would get out of this," Copenhaver said he would represent Heavin's husband, the warrant said.
At that point, the caseworker — from the Bluebonnet Trails Community Mental Health and Mental Retardation Center — and other family members emerged and called police, according to the warrant.
Oops. This being the internet-enabled 21st century and all, you can of course go to The Smoking Gun and read his arrest paperwork to get the specific sexual favors that Copenhaver requested, down toward the end of Page 2. Nothing particularly outré, except for that last request. As every regular reader is well aware, I've got a vivid and prurient imagination, but try as I might I can't figure out how that maneuver is even physically possible unless one of the women was either 1) a midget, 2) a world-class contortionist, 3) not bound by the laws of Newtonian physics, or 4) possessed of waist-length breasts.
Talk about your unreasonable legal fees...
I'm not entirely certain why this clip cracks me up so, but it sure does. Do you think it would it be more or less funny if it was performed by a male?
Rory Stewart, writing in the London Review of Books, looks at four recent books by western journalists in Iraq and comes to the conclusion that nobody has much idea what is going on there, not the administration, not its critics, not journalists, not even Iraqis themselves.
Things are not much better when organisations rely on middle-class or English-speaking Iraqis for information. It is not only Ahmed Chalabi who proved to have little idea about the situation in Iraq. Saddam's regime worked hard to fragment and isolate the population. Religious sheikhs in Karbala do not know how to assess the influence of a tribal sheikh; Baghdad intellectuals don't understand the status of the mirjaiya, the most senior Shia clerics, such as Sistani. Giving hundreds of thousands of dollars to engineers and doctors in Basra to speak on behalf of Marsh Arabs is like hiring a London investment banker to represent the unemployed in Glasgow.
[...]
Few Iraqis themselves have a clear understanding of the differences at a provincial level between the three different Da'wa parties or the leadership and ideology of Da'wa Iraq, let alone a sense of the relationships between the sheikhs of the Albu Muhammad area. What expertise foreign officials build up is continually lost as each one leaves and is replaced: every six months for the British military and US marines, every 12 months for the US military and some civilians. There are very few people on the ground who can even remember the final days of the CPA. There is almost nobody who has worked in Iraq continuously since the invasion, which was less than two years ago.
[...]
But I am most sympathetic to Parenti's account of street-level violence, one which implies that the outcome might not be a grand civil war between monolithic blocs of Shia, Sunni or Kurd, but anarchy at a localised level, with conflict between different armed factions, none of which wants visible or formal political power. The government may control the major cities, but rural areas will be marked by continual violence, disrupting people's lives, enforcing traditional social codes, preventing the delivery of basic services. In other words, an Iraqi democracy could resemble democratic pre-Musharraf Pakistan, or the longest continuous democracy in Latin America: Colombia.
This link (and many others worth following) via this post by Juan Cole, who apparently now carries enough weight to land on the right wing smear list.
I'm referring to the sorry spectacle of the president flying back to D.C. from Texas to jump on the holy-roller bandwagon entangling a brain damaged coma victim's feeding tubes in its spokes. Don't know if he's trying to energize his base or distract folks from his Social Security debacle, or just plain happy to get his face next to a headline that says "coma."
But any way you cut it, it's rare to see this kind of world class brown-nosing from a termed-out politician. His staff loves to say Bush is a man who doesn't know the meaning of the word "quit." Well, apparently he's not all that conversant with the word "shame" either.
I can understand Bill Frist and Tom DeLay orchestrating these weasel moves, as they're still ambitious poisonous little suckups with big Christian-right butts in their crosshairs, but shouldn't George be working out of the downtown plaza of Legacy City right now, cleaning up his contribution to a presidential library by shredding documents? And it turns out, he's just a big fat sissy boy like his dad. Isn't that sweet?
A President Bush tap dancing in front of the Falwell-Robertson organ grinder. Ah yes, it does bring back memories. And don't you worry, just because George is a lame duck, that doesn't mean you won't get to see plenty more of this. I wish the rest of you would quit encouraging them.
Gore Vidal will turn 80 this fall, meaning we likely have only a short time left with one of our greatest and most underappreciated national treasures. For now, you shouldn't miss this interview with him, though fair warning: it won't make you feel particularly hopeful for the future of our country. Or, for that matter, the present.
Points awarded for originality.
An unusual traffic stop in St. Charles County. Deputies pulled over an erratic driver on Interstate 70. When they approached the car they saw the driver was dressed as a pioneersman. He told them he was headed west to deliver blankets and supplies to the Indians.
Inside the car was a cache of weapons. Officers found an assault rifle with a fully loaded clip, handguns, ammunition and other weapons, along with a large amount of marijuana. The driver was taken into custody and faces drug and weapons charges.
Oh my god, this is so utterly brilliant, it's worth however long it takes you to download the clip.
The Old Negro Space Program, a film not by Ken Burns.
A judge has ruled that Ohio's new constitutional ban on same-sex marriage prohibits unmarried people from being able to file domestic violence charges. [...]
Burk, 42, is accused of slapping and pushing his live-in girlfriend during a January argument over a pack of cigarettes. His public defender, David Magee, had asked the judge to throw out the charge because of the new wording in Ohio's constitution that prohibits any state or local government from enforcing a law that would "create or recognize a legal status for relationships of unmarried individuals." Prior to the amendment's approval, courts applied the domestic violence law by defining a family as including an unmarried couple living together as would a husband and wife, the judge said. The new amendment banning same-sex marriage no longer allows that.
(via MeFi)
I'm sure the Arlington Pediatric Center paid some graphic designer serious coin for designing their logo. They should demand a refund.
Update: Looks like this landed on Fark (I found it at the discussion boards on cruel.com), and the resulting traffic clued APC in that they were providing high comedy for millions. To wit, the pictures of the logo have disappeared. Here is the logo and to prove that it wasn't a fake, here is the storefront emblazoned with said logo.
Read this and then ponder: we spent 200 billion dollars and ended many tens of thousands of lives to achieve this? Hmm, I thought perhaps we'd have learned this lesson already.
Congratulations, war supporters. Your Iraq policy has clearly dealt a mighty blow to Islamofascism and made America safer to boot.
(first link via Kevin Hayden)
You'd think nobody would need to be reminded of this any longer but, of course, you'd be wrong. So, just in case it hasn't occurred to you yet, allow me to say it plainly for you now and just consider it a public service announcement. Don't keep nude pictures of yourself on your cell phone.
I wholeheartedly endorse this form of protest and would like to see the right wing adopt it much more widely.
Also, Donald Rumsfeld is building a Terminator. Sweet.
Some IMAX theaters are declining to show a science film titled "Volcanos of the Deep Sea" because the film's link of human DNA and sea vent microbes might offend creationists. Heaven forfend!
IMAX theaters in Texas, Georgia and the Carolinas have declined to show the film, said Pietro Serapiglia who handles distribution for Stephen Low, the film's director and producer who is from Montreal. "I find it's only in the South," Serapiglia said.
Sigh. Sometimes loving my native South is harder than others. One of the theaters refusing the film is in Myrtle Beach, SC, which, if you've never visited, has a remarkably dense population of strip clubs and liquor stores. Just, you know, don't mention anything about evolution.
(via The Stinging Nettle)
I don't have much to say about the Schiavo case, because everything that matters has already been said more eloquently by others. I won't pretend to know what's inside the hearts of the various family members but looking from the outside, Schiavo's parents have conducted themselves shamefully and the GOP ghouls around them have been far, far worse. The obvious political calculation on full display in DC is disgusting. However, I will pass this on to you just in case you don't have something that haunts you and keeps you from sleeping at night, because we all need one of those. Over at Pharyngula, PZ Myers links to an mp3 of Terri Schiavo having a "conversation" with her father. Click the link and listen if you think you can. If you somehow believe that, despite her cerebral cortex being replaced with cerebrospinal fluid, some flicker of consciousness remains in Ms. Schiavo, she sure doesn't sound happy.
That attempt to subpoena Schiavo and have her brought before Congress was not serious, that's for sure, although it sure would have been great to see it on CSPAN: a third of congress would be fleeing the room in terror, a third would have clapped their hands over their ears and fallen to their knees in tears, and the final third would be clawing their way to the front of the room to pull the plug themselves.
Anyhow, if you decide to listen, just know that you can't unhear it. You have been warned.
Update: Looks like those few lonely Republicans that aren't card-carrying members of Jesus' Stormtroopers are getting a little spooked by the public reaction. Representative Chris Shays of Connecticut:
"My party is demonstrating that they are for states' rights unless they don't like what states are doing," said Representative Christopher Shays of Connecticut, one of five House Republicans who voted against the bill. "This couldn't be a more classic case of a state responsibility."
"This Republican Party of Lincoln has become a party of theocracy," Mr. Shays said. "There are going to be repercussions from this vote. There are a number of people who feel that the government is getting involved in their personal lives in a way that scares them."
Nice of you to finally notice, Congressman.
Meet Buffo, The World's Strongest Clown. According to the website that might or might not crash your browser, Buffo is available for kids' birthday parties, company picnics, festivals, and adult parties. The latter includes "an optional surprise ending," and I'm totally afraid to ask. Given pictures like this, I'd expect at least a few kids to flee shrieking before the cake and ice cream get served and I'm having difficulty imagining Buffo at my own company's picnic. But aside from bulging pecs, what's Buffo got that your ordinary clown doesn't?
Buffo is not an ordinary clown. This gentle giant weighs in at over 200 pounds and has biceps that are bigger than most men's thighs. He juggles bowling balls as well as hatchets, meat cleavers, fire and chain saws - as long as they're not turned on! He rips telephone books in half and balances extension ladders and children sitting in chairs on his face. He lies on a bed of nails buried under a stack of cement blocks and walks on broken glass and machetes in his bare feet. He makes animals appear and disappear and escapes from chains, ropes, handcuffs and a strait jacket. He can unicycle, stilt walk, eat fire, ride a buffalo and has a little clown car as well as two big clown trucks, one even has it's own stage. He even has a little dog that does almost as many tricks as he does!
I guess that explains why the Buffomobile is so big. He's clearly put a lot of time into that truck, time that he probably saved by not overthinking what to name his animals. I have to wonder, though, what kind of parent trusts this guy to do this with their child. Maybe really hostile parents.
More new strips up at Get Your War On. Best quote: "My wife and I made our living wills last night. Mine says that if I fall into a persistent vegetative state, and Tom DeLay comes within a hundred miles of me, I am to turn into a zombie and rip his fucking head off. They can't prosecute the undead for manslaughter, can they?"
You should read E.J. Dionne's column about the possibility of Senate Republicans doing monkey business with Senate rules in order to eliminate the filibuster (the "nuclear option") because it's important, but I was struck by some numbers he cites at the end.
And if the principle at stake is "majority rule," consider that the Senate is, by its very nature, an affront to majoritarian principles. The 52 senators from the nation's smallest states could command a Senate majority even though they represent only 18 percent of the American population.
According to the Census Bureau's July 2004 population estimates, the 44 Democratic senators represent 148,026,027 people; the 55 Republican senators 144,765,157. Vermont's Jim Jeffords, an independent who usually votes with the Democrats, represents 310,697. (In these calculations, I evenly divided the population of states with split Senate delegations.)
Mix those numbers with a splash of Bush's margin of victory for an incumbent president being the smallest since 1828 and serve chilled the next time some paid talking head starts going on about mandates and permanent majorities.
Also, get ready for the redistricting fights to reach an entirely new level. Oh, it's on. Time to start swinging.
Art historians believe they may have discovered the only known self-portrait of Michelangelo, a marble bas-relief from a private collection in Tuscany.
According to Beck, the sculpture could also be the work of Niccolò Tribolo or Pierino da Vinci, the nephew of Leonardo who died at only 23.
"Pierino was an extraordinary sculptor. Enough to say that 19th century art historians often attributed his works to Michelangelo. Whoever the author, this marble portrait is very precious as it adds new knowledge to the image we have of Michelangelo," Vezzosi said.
The bas-relief is consistent with known portraits of the Renaissance master, such as paintings by Giuliano Bugiardini and Jacopino del Conte, kept at the Casa Buonarroti museum in Florence, and bronzes by Daniele da Volterra, on display at the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford, England.
Michelangelo left no documented self portraits. Art historians have speculated that he painted his own image in the flayed skin of St. Bartholomew in the Last Judgement, and in the head of Nicodemus in the Florentine Pietà. (links added)
This certainly would be a crowning achievement in any art historian's career should it pan out.
World O' Crap notes that Kommandant Charles "Squeaky" Johnson of the Nazi-Lite Little Green Footballs is all pissed off that Google News is accepting newsfeeds from the more traditional Nazis at National Vanguard but has turned down LGF. Twice!
Not so surprising, really. Given the choice between spittle-flecked Nazi poseurs and real Nazis, most people will choose the genuine article. Get some armbands and try again next month, fellas.
Economics may be "the dismal science," but as science goes, it's as soft and ideological a science as any of the other social sciences, despite using lots and lots of numbers. Almost every economic model rests on the assumption of individuals as rational decision-makers, when even a cursory examination shows that we mangy apes exhibit all manner of irrational behavior. To explain that, some economists are trying to build a bridge between the fields of economics and neurology.
By linking economic behavior to brain activity, however, neuroeconomics may finally supply the model that knocks mainstream economics off its throne. The new theory should fit better with reality, but it won't be as mathematically clean -- because the brain is a confusing place, with different parts handling different jobs. Says Camerer: "You are forced to think about a brain which has many somewhat modular circuits."
One of the most fruitful avenues of neuro research is "time inconsistency." When people decide about the distant future, they're roughly as rational as economic textbooks assume. But when faced with a choice of whether to consume something now or delay gratification, they can be as impulsive as chimps. Harvard's Laibson coined "quasi-hyperbolic discounting" to describe the behavior, but that was just a label, not an explanation.
So Laibson and others scanned people inside MRI machines and discovered two parts of the brain operating in radically different ways. For decisions about the far-off future, the prefrontal cortex takes a long-term perspective. But for decisions such as whether to buy another chocolate bar right now, the limbic system takes over and demands immediate gratification.
Interesting approach. I doubt it will help much in determining the CPI or predicting market failures, but there must be a thousand dissertations to be written on it.
Christopher Albritton is back in Baghdad. "Car bombs in Beirut seem almost quaint compared to this place, and I'd forgotten how casually violent it is here."
Lesson for purple-fingered, crowing American politicians: holding an election ≠ achieving democracy. In fact, it doesn't even equal forming a government.
Remember how often you heard a right winger announce that we had improved the plight of women in Iraq? As if. (last two links via Juan Cole)
While we are busy congratulating ourselves for ousting a criminal regime, crime in Iraq has now grown to the point that it's killing more people than the insurgency.
Ukraine heads for the exit from the quickly shrinking Coalition of the Willing.
Oh, and in case you hadn't noticed, our "few bad apples" are quickly turning into an orchard.
So, as the polling steadily slides toward acknowledgement that Operation Tarbaby was a singularly stupid idea, I hope you'll forgive me for rolling my eyes and mumbling, "Y'all are just now realizing that, huh? Managed to scrub that blood off your hands yet?"
Just over three and a half months ago, I upgraded to the latest versions of Movable Type and MT-Blacklist. Given current rates, MT-Blacklist's odometer will roll over at some point this week, recording the 100,000th blocked spam comment at apostropher.com. 100,000. Sheesh.
Meet Bob. Bob used to be underendowed, but now he's not speaking on the advice of his lawyers.
You'd suspect most registered sex offenders probably just blend in unnoticed, but I bet you'd remember this guy (if you're using Firefox, this is the image that doesn't load properly in the page). No nickname? Somehow I doubt that. Also, no scars or marks!
Headline: Heated pool malfunctions; stunt-diving pig dies (key sentence: "The animal known as 'Big Red' died after diving off a platform into a heated pool as part of Randall's High Diving Pig Show.")
Headline: Police Say Sex Was Being Sold At Colon-Cleansing Clinic (key sentence: "Police became suspicious because they saw only men entering the back door of the clinic.")
Headline: Man tries to hide fake penis again
Finally, this article from India's Kerala Next isn't notable so much for the freaky penis operation, as for the oddly written copy. For some reason, the site loads as black-on-black, so I had to 'Select All' to see the text, but really, it's worth it. Read this opening paragraph aloud with an Indian accent:
Needless to say that there is no normal man in the world who would agree to bid farewell to his genitals and have his penis cut off. It is an open secret that the male organ is considered to be the object of eternal pride for all normal men living on Earth. However, if there is an experienced surgeon, who guarantees a considerable increase of the penis size after such an execution, some men would probably take a risk to experience the miraculous genital reincarnation.
That's the stuff, Mack.
I've noted previously that teens who go through abstinence-only sex ed programs show no statistical difference in rates of sexual activity from those who don't. To be fair, though, county-mandated classes can only go so far. Real changes happen on the individual level. So what about the kids who sign the much-ballyhooed virginity pledges? Well, not so clear cut there either.
Although teenagers who take "virginity pledges" begin engaging in vaginal intercourse [an average of 18 months] later than teens who have not committed to remain abstinent until marriage, they also are more likely to engage in oral or anal sex than nonpledging virgin teens and less likely to use condoms once they become sexually active.
Bad combo, that.
Because pledgers typically delayed sexual activity, had fewer sexual partners and married earlier than nonpledgers, the researchers "looked for explanations" as to why the differences in STD rates were not statistically significant, Bearman said, the Times reports (Washington Times, 3/19). The gap between pledgers and nonpledgers for high-risk behavior was statistically significant, with 2% of virgins who did not pledge reporting engaging in anal or oral sex, compared with 13% of those who did pledge (Washington Post, 3/19). According to Bruckner, the pledgers' increased likelihood of substituting oral or anal sex for vaginal intercourse puts them at risk of contracting STDs, according to Bruckner. Among virgins, boys who had pledged abstinence were four times as likely to have engaged in anal sex as those who did not pledge, and pledgers overall were six times as likely to have engaged in oral sex as teens who were virgins but did not take a pledge, the study found. In addition, teens who made virginity pledges were less likely to use condoms during their first sexual experience and were less likely to get tested for STDs, the study found (Detroit Free Press, 3/19).
This, of course, carries the logical corollary that the pledgers also were less likely to "know their STD status, which could increase their risk of STD transmission to sexual partners." But predictably:
Leslee Unruh, president of the National Abstinence Clearinghouse, called the study "bogus" and said that the supposed pledgers had not pledged true abstinence, which forbids oral and anal sex.
Yes, the problem is obviously a lack of specificity. I can see it now: "Let's see. I promise, yadda yadda yadda, on my honor, skim skim skim... No, I don't see the words Cleveland or steamer anywhere in there. I think we're in the clear on this one."
The U.S. Army, stung by recruiting shortfalls caused by the Iraq war, has raised the maximum age for new recruits for the part-time Army Reserve and National Guard by five years to 39, officials said on Monday. The Army said the move, a three-year experiment, will add about 22 million people to the pool of those eligible to serve, from about 60 million now.
According to the Silver Linings to Very Dark Clouds Department, this move should remove the last obstacle for a certain pantload to put his money where his mouth is.
Physical standards will not be relaxed for older recruits, who the Army said were valued for their maturity and patriotism.
Or maybe not.
I'll get back to the blogging soon, I promise. In the meantime...
Tom Waits' list of 20 indispensable albums.
Turtle survives fire, now carries mark of Satan.
Surprise, surprise, the Iraq invasion really was all about oil.
Saturn's moon Enceladus should be much too small to keep an atmosphere. Back to the drawing board.
Is that a toy banana in my pants or are you just here to arrest me?
Self-propelled, indeed.
Moscow monkeys launch hunger strike because their onion jones is being neglected.
Ever wonder what Jesus smelled like? I'm guessing this scent is from before he was dead for three days.
And finally... HEELS!
The site advertises C&W/Southern Boogie/Hillbilly Mashups and while only some of the tracks meet the description, they're pretty entertaining, if straightforward.
Putting Grandmaster Flash over Bad Moon Rising makes him sound amazingly like Subterranean-era Dylan. The Dolly Parton ("Jolene")/Snoop Dogg/Dr. Dre mix is the real winner here, though it grinds to a very sudden halt, and Rebel Without a Banjo is short, sweet, and pretty much what you'd expect.
(via All Night Surfing)
No posts recently, and the condition may continue for a bit.
A quick update, though: the ice tower in Alaska collapsed Sunday night after developing a "significant lean." Residents thought it was an earthquake. Pictures of the rubble here.
And just for playing, here's a funny trailer for Sarah Silverman's upcoming concert film and a flash animation about monkeys.
Again, this is mostly for family and faraway friends, but here's the last 23 shots from the digital camera.
The Mars rovers have been steadily losing power as dust accumulates on their solar panels. The Spirit rover, currently scuttling about in the Gusev Crater, recently began sending back pictures showing its wheel tracks disappearing behind it, leading scientists to conclude that it was wheeling through a big duststorm. As the atmospheric dust load grew greater, Spirit's energy levels dropped sharply and the crew controlling it started dialing back its duties.
Then, suddenly, the energy levels shot up well beyond where they were originally, back nearly to the level at which they were functioning just after landing over a year ago.
The plus-up in power, team members believe, was due to a whirlwind passing right over the robot, removing the dust that had collected on its solar cells. The impact of the devilish dust-off was significant.
"The noon solar output from the panels went from a 40 percent loss to just 7 percent," said rover science team member, Larry Crumpler, a research curator in volcanology and space sciences at the New Mexico Museum of Natural History and Science in Albuquerque. Images of the panels taken later showed "beautiful dark panels," Crumpler explained. "And all the wires and edges on the [rover] deck have little dust tails. I think it might have been the Martian squeegee men. Either that or one heck of a buffeting by a dust devil," he said.
The other rover, Opportunity, had a similar, though less dramatic, "miracle cleaning" just before the end of last year.
Take it away, Inner Beavis.
These aren't balls you currently find in your corner bowling alley, but they're often in the bags of professional or league bowlers. Most [...] can't be smelled until they are within two or three inches of your nose, although some have stronger odors.
John Petroff, 46, of Milwaukee, was in the shop recently to order cinnamon- and amaretto-scented balls. He has 10 to 20 balls, which include cinnamon apple, wintergreen, blueberry and peppermint scents. He doesn't pick them just for their scent, he said, but that doesn't hurt.
"The bag does smell better especially when you have four or five of them," Petroff said.
Of course, that does make you walk a little funny.
You all know I have a special fondness for penile amputation stories, despite the genre being pretty formulaic. Most of the variations on the theme are sufficiently similar to the original that it can get a little dull. Every so often, though, you come across a completely new twist. Here's the teaser.
From his hospital bed he said: "I've got two penises but no wife, but I am hoping when I get rid of one of the penises I will get her back." His testicles are intact and will be connected to what is actually his third penis when doctors are happy the operation was a success. His story was this week featured on a German TV documentary called The Last Penis Operation.
Man. His cup runneth over.
Bad Boy recording artist Chopper, a.k.a. Young City of the worldwide platinum rap group "Da Band," recently signed on as the spokesperson for Rap Snacks Pork Skins and Cracklins, a new product line being launched by the Chicago-based Evans Food Group and Rap Snacks, Inc., headquartered in Philadelphia.
Rap Snacks, Inc. is a 10-year-old company headed by business man James Lindsay. Since 1994, Rap Snacks, Inc. has used popular rap stars and hip, positive phrases to sell chips to urban markets. Last year, the company reported sales of 3 million bags of chips per week, thanks to retail outlets and independent distributors in cities across the nation.
Chopper's image will appear on bags of Rap Snacks Pork Skins and Cracklins, which will be available in a variety of flavors. Also featured on the bags will be motivational messages like "seize every opportunity," and "be who you are without shame."
Despite his worldwide platinum status, I was previously unfamiliar with Chopper. As Google tells me, Da Band is MTV's hip-hop version of the Monkees who star in some reality show or other on the network. So I don't know anything about the fellow, except that "the days of hustling, drugs and life based on crime living in uptown New Orleans are over." To be honest, despite liking hip-hop, I don't really care much about Chopper. But I LOVE me some pork cracklins. Oh baby, do I. So, I went looking for Rap Snacks on the web, and here's the lineup, with reviews courtesy of taquitos.net:
Hey, yo. No pork. Waddupwiddat? Seems the Chopper venture is their first foray into the other white meat byproducts and it looks like their partner in the venture, Evans Food Group, is the one bringin' the porcine skillz. Because the internet is a strange and beautiful thing, I discovered that EFG carries the slogan: "And remember, there is no party without pork rinds." Granted, but it turns out that Evans isn't just a pork rind company, they're a pork rind partnering business.
We are hog wild about your pork rind program. Evans Food Products Company, Inc. is your pork rind and pork cracklin marketing partner. For over half a century we have manufactured premium quality products for private label use and served as co-packer for many well known brands in the United States. Evans will develop a custom private label program to suit your merchandising needs. [...] Turning pork rinds and pork cracklins into significant profits is what we are hog wild about doing for you. Our record squeals for itself.
Sweet. They even have a recipe section, but with only two entries: Pork Rind Cheese Ball and Crunchy Tortilla and Pork Rind Soup. Oink.
Ward Churchill has proven to be a completely inadequate foil for the right, because the uniform response of everybody on the left was 1) "Who the fuck is Ward Churchill?" followed immediately by 2) "Oh, I see: an idiot." Anyhow, fresh from that disappointing reaction, rest assured that for the next two weeks, the face of the left, according to the right-wing blogs, will be this clearly disturbed idiot whose name you've never heard previously.
Oooh look! It's already started!
Reverend Mykeru casts a critical eye toward the "Frenzied Wing Nut Cluster Crapping" going on about the US military's shooting of the car carrying Italian journalist Giuliana Sgrena and produces three posts well worth your time (the linked post and the two below it).
The whole of method in their little world is to start with their preferred conclusion and work backwards sticking little bits of confirmation to it like epistemic Post-It notes while crumpling and discarding everything else.
And how. All the triumphalist chest-beating of the right-wing truth squadders neatly ignores the uncomfortable fact that in their zeal to proclaim an entire dissertation invalid due to a punctuation error in a footnote, they consistently manage to bungle all the punctuation rules. Again. At some point you'd think they'd get tired of being wrong about, oh, pretty much everything, but bad habits are frustratingly hard to break.
Prediction: over the coming weeks, we will all get to watch the right-wing loyalty enforcers turn viciously on their former buddy, Silvio Berlusconi.
"A hospital spokesman said: 'If you cut [off] your sex organ and then eat it, then something is wrong with you.' "
Kansas already has a state version of the Defense of Marriage Act defining marriage as between a male and a female, and on April 5, Kansas voters will likely make such a provision part of the state Constitution. And dammit, it won't be a moment too soon, because without putting it directly into the Constitution, those culture-of-death homos will be making a mockery of legitimate, heterosexual, Christian marriages in Kansas, like this one. And then where will we be? (via Atrios)
And while we're on the subject, I'd like to thank Ogged for pointing me toward this hilarious NYTimes wedding announcement, and this hilarious deconstruction of it. Whether the hilarity inherent in the original was intended or not is a question I still have not resolved to my satisfaction.
I don't much care for news websites spreading a story across multiple pages due to length, as I prefer to read my articles using nothing but the 'page down' key. Accordingly, I usually hit the print-friendly format to read longer pieces. Doing so, though, makes you miss odd, out-of-context pages like this one, which I find amusing.
NASA has released a crystal-clear photograph of Saturn's moon, Enceladus, taken yesterday from a distance of 93,869 kilometers (58,293 miles). The flyby performed later in the day brought Cassini within just 500 km (310 miles) of the moon, which is Saturn's coldest satellite and the most reflective object in the solar system, so far more detailed pictures are being posted as they are processed. You can wade through the latest raw images here, and Matt McIrvin's Steam-Operated World of Yesteryear is always a good place to check for nicely enhanced Cassini images.
The toppling of the Saddam statue? Staged for the cameras.
The rescue of Jessica Lynch? Staged for the cameras.
Pulling Saddam from a spiderhole? Yep, you guessed it. (Or not.)
Is there anything about this occupation that's genuine? Of course there is, but it doesn't really make for very exciting television.
Despite the canned-and-cued screaming of the American War Party, the chances that the Syrian government had anything to do with the assassination are rapidly dwindling down to nothing. Moreover, the whole situation in Lebanon is entirely more complicated than the Bush-made-the-sun-rise crowd will ever admit. While the administration and its jock-sniffing hangers-on pat themselves on the back for every poster hung anywhere in the Middle East as the logical result of occupying Iraq (post hoc ergo propter hoc much?), let's be serious for a moment. Bush's impact on events outside of Iraq doesn't amount to a hole in a donut compared to the impact of his bête noire, al Jazeera. There's a reason nearly every Middle Eastern government has as much or more distaste for the network as ours does.
Not that any of that is likely to penetrate the galvanized braincases of most of my evidence-be-damned countrymen, who apparently never tire of eating bullshit sandwiches, just as long as the guy grilling them up chants U-S-A.
I had mourned the passing of bushcountry.org, largely because I thought it might mean no more jewels from my very favorite completely insane columnist ever, the Reverend Joseph Grant Swank. Now I dry my eyes and give thanks to the indefatigable SZ at World O' Crap, who finds no less than TEN columns by the good reverend, published in just a 24-hour span. Ten! Turns out you just can't keep a manic, foaming-at-the-mouth schizophrenic down, especially once he has a modem. Best title of the bunch: "Evangelicals Impregnate Congress -- With Posh," published in the Magic City Morning Star. I kid you not.
I refuse to believe that science can create a robot that would be a better "biscuit-eating dummy" than me. Don't make me go all Ted Kaczynski on yo' asses, McVitie's Laboratory. I'm left to wonder, though: why does a robot need a hairnet? (via)
"Your fingers will be mine, meatman."
Norwegian blues stun very easily, major.
Police in Japan yesterday questioned three elderly siblings who had lived with their father's decomposed corpse for nearly a decade. Kyujiro Kanaoka's body was found on a futon bed at the family's home in the city of Itami in western Japan. His children, all in their 70s or older, told police they had thought their father was still alive, but one recently consulted a relative about the possibility he might be dead, a police spokesman said. Judging from the decomposed body, the father may have died as long as 10 years ago. Alive, he would be 107 - he was registered by Hyogo prefecture as its oldest living resident, said the public broadcaster NHK.
The "possibility" he might be dead? You'd think not eating or breathing for a decade would have given it away.
"It's not pinin', it's passed on! This parent is no more! It has ceased to be! It's expired and gone to meet its maker! THIS IS A LATE PARENT. It's a stiff. Bereft of life, it rests in peace, if you hadn't stuck it to the futon it would be pushing up the daisies! It's run down the curtain and joined the choir invisible! THIS IS AN EX-PARENT!"
ScienceBlog: "A surprisingly large number of beetles are missing one of their testes. [...] The survey required detailed dissection and study of over 820 species, a representative sampling from the 37,000 species of carabid beetles estimated to exist. The researchers found 174 species, all members of the three lineages with only one testis. The researchers noted that except for this one anatomical distinction, the one-testicle beetles appear and behave no differently than their two-testicle counterparts. [...] For reasons unknown, in almost all cases it is the left testis that has disappeared. [...] Based on the geographic distributions of the beetle groups involved, Liebherr estimates that the origins of monorchy in the beetles occurred 90 to 100 million years ago during the Cretaceous period."
Coincidentally, MetaFilter linked this morning to a gallery of spectacular photographs of our one-balled insect overlords. Great eye candy to be found therein.
...and yet just out of his grasp. As everything now will be. The online sex chats are going to be so much more difficult without fingers.
A Los Angeles man who sneaked into Canada in February to see his Internet girlfriend will be deported -- minus all his fingers and some of his toes, the Winnipeg Sun newspaper reported Tuesday. Charles Gonsoulin, 41, will have the fingers and toes amputated because of severe frostbite suffered during a 100-hour trek from Pembina, North Dakota, across the border to Emerson, Manitoba, where he was found wandering on a golf course on Feb. 23, suffering from hypothermia.
What in the world would possess a fellow to steal across the Canadian border on foot in mid-February?
Gonsoulin and the Canadian woman met in an Internet chat room in 2002. The woman lives in Quebec, Gonsoulin's lawyer, Mike Cook, told a court hearing. Quebec is about 2,500 kilometers (1,600 miles) east of Manitoba. Gonsoulin could not enter Canada legally because he was convicted of robbing a Pizza Hut in Arkansas in 1984, the newspaper said. His girlfriend could not afford to travel to Los Angeles, he told the Sun. So he took a bus to North Dakota where he crossed the border.
"Mr. Gonsoulin didn't really know that there was any place on Earth that could be so cold and so inhospitable," Cook told a court hearing Monday, adding his client had never felt temperatures colder than 10 degrees Celsius (50 F).
Ah, possessed by stupidity, I see. "And once I cross the border, it should be only four or five short months of hiking. I should pack a lunch." Well, gross idiocy explains a lot, but not this sentiment.
"It is better to have loved and to have lost than never to have loved at all," the Sun quoted Gonsoulin as saying. "It was all worth it for me. It's the difference between sitting around dreaming about things and going out and getting them." [...] Gonsoulin is receiving medical treatment in a Winnipeg jail. He still has not met his girlfriend face-to-face but they have spoken on the phone and Gonsoulin said they are still in love.
In other words, it was totally worth losing all my fingers and some toes to not meet this woman. Don't just sit around dreaming of amputations. Go out and get them!
That crazy ice sculpture in Alaska that I blogged about a few weeks back is still growing, at almost 150 feet now (latest pictures are here) and has become one of Fairbanks' biggest tourist attractions. No word on what its competition is, but still, not too shabby. The 6'9", 350# sculptor told the Anchorage Daily News he expects it to be 160 to 180 feet tall and weigh over 80,000 tons by the time he shuts off the water in April.
AP: Carey McWilliams, right, who is legally blind,
and his wife, Tori, are photographed at their
home in Fargo, N.D., Friday, Feb. 25, 2005, in
front of the target he used to pass his weapons test.
Update: And here's the car he used to pass his driving test.
Behold: the Hamdog.
Mulligan's, a suburban bar in Decatur, Georgia, serves a dish they call the "Hamdog": a hot dog wrapped in a beef patty that's deep fried, covered with chili, cheese and onions, and served on a hoagie bun topped with a fried egg and two fistfuls of fries. [...] It's one of Mulligan's other repasts, however, that may represent the ultimate in nutritive decadence through its combining greasy, cholesterol-stuffed meats with a sweet, fatty, deep-fried treat: the "Luther Burger," a bacon cheeseburger served on a Krispy Kreme doughnut bun.
You know, it's the little touches like deep-frying the hamburger patty that will ensure the Hamdog's immortality. A bacon cheeseburger on Krispy Kremes, though? That's inspired. I stand in awe. The link has a picture of a Hamdog, by the way.
The good folks at The Door ran the 23rd Psalm through various online translation tools from English to Japanese to French and back to English again. The results:
You shepherd is mine, me will not miss anything.
You downward inserted me in the grassy grass;
You find me the quiet swimming pools for drinking.
Let me catch my breath before you send me in the right direction.
When walking inside the valley of the shade where I am deep,
I do not possess the fear of badness, for you is with me;
Your bar and your personnel are there to calm me.
From the front of the mine a hostile presence spreads before me like a board.
You spilled oil on my head, my cup is overtaxed.
Your beauty and love drive out after me each day of my life.
As for me, I'll live certainly permanently in the house of the main thing.
Amen.
Be sure to tune in next week, when we will find out:
Will Quentin Tarantino direct the next installment of Friday the 13th?
Will Bono run the World Bank?
Will the Jordan River ever seem clean again?
Will Benny Hinn's wife get her meds adjusted?
Don't miss the video on that last one, by the way.
I've paid no attention to the Robert Blake murder trial because, well, I just couldn't give a good goddamn if I tried. Nothing is more tiresome and uninteresting than the American cult of celebrity, and that goes double for the specific subgenre of formerly famous celebrity goes sordidly down the drain. It's all just so familiar and predictable and dull. Except that apparently this one isn't.
Mr. Schwartzbach reminded jurors that the stuntmen were unreliable. Mr. McLarty said in court that he was a longtime cocaine abuser. He had a mental breakdown, believed that the police were tunneling under his house and thought he was being monitored from outer space. Earlier in the trial, a professor from the University of California, Los Angeles, testified as an expert witness about the psychotropic effects of cocaine. He said that he had smoked crack cocaine himself and sat in a cage with monkeys to teach them how to smoke cocaine as well.
Well sure, we've all had to do that before, but I don't think a frat initiation should in any way lessen his credibility as an expert witness.
I've never held the same animosity toward Starbucks that so many of my coffee-drinking hipster friends carry. Sure, their java tastes burnt about half of the time, but I load it down with enough sugar and cream that it could just as well be mine slurry. But aside from that, they are as solidly Democratic as a company can be, sport a commendable record of social responsibility, and have two locations between my house and my kid's school. All in all, they exhibit the sort of corporate citizenship that progressives should be rewarding.
However. All that good works cred can come crumbling down in an instant. How? Take the very worst song in the history of rock music and make it even worse. Not just by a little, either. You can download the mp3 - and I recommend you do so just to gain appreciation for the sheer Dr. Moreau horribleness of it - but by the end of the day, you might just rupture your eardrum with a pencil to try to let it out of your head. You have been warned.
In the past six months, five dogs have jumped to their deaths from one bridge in Scotland and nobody knows why.
Headline: Stuffed duck explosion ends badly.
Pimpzilla, bitch.
Much, much more entertaining than it ought to be. The couch is particularly satisfying. (via boingboing)
Wild turkeys have their younger brothers act as wingmen, confirming Edmund Wilson's theory of animal altruism.
Yahoo celebrates the internet's ten-year birthday with an interactive look at 100 online milestones during that decade. Interesting for a few minutes, I suppose, though I can't fathom how NakedNews ended up getting a slot and Jenni Ringley didn't. That seems a little like putting Mötley Crüe in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, but not KISS.
Well sir, we have discovered the cause of your recent severe headaches and are happy to report that we can remedy the situation immediately with a quick and simple operation. However, we have to wonder how you failed to notice a five-inch knife blade broken off in your head.
Following up on the phallus- spoon-shaped egg laid in China a few weeks back, now comes news (and a picture!) that another Chinese hen has laid an egg with a tail. Honestly, while the last one was cute, this one's just creepy. Looks more like a crab leg than a tail.
Can we just go ahead and declare it a cult of personality already? Sheesh, the modern Republican Party is beginning to make the Branch Davidians and the Moonies look moderate and restrained.
ALABAMA artist Frank Bear illustrated support for George W. Bush as a follower of Jesus Christ by this work, titled "Our Christian President." The artist pieced together individual portraits of Jesus Christ to make the image of President Bush. Despite criticism, Bear insists the artwork is not blasphemous. [via TBogg]
No, it's not blasphemous. Blasphemy is funny. This is just sad. I can hear God now: "Please, please, please, just go back to idolatry and taking my name in vain. I so don't deserve this shit."
No matter how strange the United States gets, Japan is always stranger.
The original: Topless Aboriginal dancers welcomed Britain's Prince Charles in Australia's outback on Wednesday, where locals were preparing to throw a bachelor party for the newly engaged royal.
In the wake of the school shootings that kept happening a few years back, it only makes sense that parents and school administrators take threats of violence from students seriously. However, they might want to spend a little less time and seriousness on the threats of voodoo.
Winchester police say William Poole, 18, was taken into custody Tuesday morning. Investigators say they discovered materials at Poole's home that outline possible acts of violence aimed at students, teachers, and police. Poole told LEX 18 that the whole incident is a big misunderstanding. He claims that what his grandparents found in his journal and turned into police was a short story he wrote for English class.
"My story is based on fiction," said Poole, who faces a second-degree felony terrorist threatening charge. "It's a fake story. I made it up. I've been working on one of my short stories, (and) the short story they found was about zombies. Yes, it did say a high school. It was about a high school over ran by zombies. [...] It didn't mention nobody who lives in Clark County, didn't mention (George Rogers Clark High School), didn't mention no principal or cops, nothing."
The kid is still in jail after a judge raised his bail from one to five grand.
(tip: Karyn)
Alaska Senator Ted Stevens wants to make sure your world is rated PG, no matter what. And he's willing to get violent about it.
Senate Commerce Committee Chairman Ted Stevens said Tuesday he would push to apply broadcast decency standards to subscription television and radio services like cable and satellite.
"Cable is a much greater violator in the indecency area," the Alaska Republican told the National Association of Broadcasters, which represents most local television affiliates. "I think we have the same power to deal with cable as over-the-air" broadcasters. "There has to be some standard of decency," he said.
Stevens told reporters afterward that he would push legislation to apply the standards to cable and satellite radio and television.
And who better to set that standard than the party of Jerry Falwell, Pat Robertson, and James Dobson, the pious and learned men who can spot the indecency and perversion in SpongeBob SquarePants and the Teletubbies?
Stevens said he disagreed "violently" with assertions by the cable industry that Congress does not have the authority to impose limits on what they air. "If that's the issue they want to take on, we'll take it on and let the Supreme Court decide," he said.
Y'know, publicly accessible airwaves are one thing, but services to which you must subscribe to receive, well, that's really another thing altogether, Senator. How the hell does this party get a single libertarian vote?
Josh Marshall notices Louisiana Congressman Jim McCrery collapsing in a tearful heap on the floor, then screaming for his mommy lawyer. Suck it up, you big baby.
I'm not sure I could give you any description of the interactive Flash movie Hotel that would communicate the sheer oddness of it. You don't need sound, but you're only getting half the experience without it. Also, the deeper into it you get, the weirder it gets.
I found it via Screenhead, who include the warning: "Involves some clown penis. But you know, not an outrageous amount of clown penis, it's not like a Saturday night at Jay Leno's or anything, it's a reasonable amount of clown penis." It's about as work-unsafe as the plate on the side of Pioneer 10, if you know what I mean.
And if you do, make sure the safety's on.
A 17-year-old McCandless girl was accidentally shot by her boyfriend Sunday while the two were engaged in "bedroom activities," police said. Timothy Madden, 23, of Ross, was charged with aggravated assault, reckless endangerment and corruption of a minor. The incident occurred just before 1 p.m. at Madden's residence in the Chateau Perry Apartments at 951 Perry Highway, said Ross senior detective and public information officer William Barrett.
"They were engaged in some bizarre activities in his bedroom," Barrett said. "The gun, we believe, accidentally discharged." The girl, who, as a juvenile, was not identified by police, was wounded in the groin with a .45-caliber handgun and was taken to an undisclosed hospital.
Eek.
Gay - bad. Gay Nazi - okay.
Lesbian - bad. Hitler - okay.
Penis - bad. Penises - okay.
More results here, via AmericaBlog.
Scientists are recommending everybody, but especially nursing mothers, take iodine supplements due to the sharp rise in the levels of a rocket fuel toxin, perchlorate, in both cow and human breast milk.
Babies are thought to be at particular risk from the chemical. Perchlorate in high doses can cause mental retardation in fetuses and young children by interfering with production of thyroid hormones that are vital for nervous-system development. And recent findings suggest that perchlorate is seeping into people's diet in a more pervasive way than was previously thought.
Chemist Purnendu Dasgupta of Texas Tech University in Lubbock and his team tested 36 breast-milk samples from women in 18 states, and 47 samples of shop-bought cow's milk. Perchlorate was present in all of the breast-milk samples, at an average level of 10.5 micrograms per litre. The researchers also found it in all but one of the dairy samples, at levels five times lower.
That average level would deliver roughly twice the safe dose of perchlorate for many babies. This was originally believed to be a problem for people living near rocket testing sites, but the evidence is indicating that many more people are ingesting perchlorate due to contaminated water supplies and ingesting plants and animals raised near such sites. Moreover:
Dasgupta's study also shows that the risks of consuming perchlorate may be exacerbated by shortages in the essential nutrient iodide. The perchlorate molecule is a very similar shape to iodide, and competes with it for uptake into both the thyroid gland and breast milk, often causing an iodide shortage. His team found that the level of iodide in breast milk has declined dramatically compared with measurements taken in the 1980s. This is probably because perchlorate blocks iodide from passing into breast milk, and because women are absorbing less iodide from fresh food as they switch to processed alternatives.
Iodine-rich foods include: iodized or sea salt, seafood (including fish, shellfish and seaweed, but especially spirulina), eggs, foods containing red dye #3, bread products made with iodate, and processed foods containing iodides, algin, alginates, carrageen or agar. Dairy foods are also fairly high in iodine but, as noted above, are also prone to containing perchlorate. You just can't win.
José Parla creates starkly beautiful paintings inspired by the palimpsest nature of found urban art - layers of grafitti, peeling posters, etc. His bio and his artist's statement expand a bit on this concept, which is interesting enough, but the product itself is quite exceptional. His website contains pictures of twenty paintings, but wandering through the gallery section will give you a better feel for the scale of many of his works.
