Reheated (86)
I’ll be busy for a few days, and so, some items from the archives:
Let’s Do It, But In A Way That’s Less Likely To Work.
In which we turn for wisdom to the Guardian’s parenting pages.
But Can You Not See How Fascinating I Am?
A tale of vomiting, tears, and unrelenting pretension.
I suppose the drama above – all that time on the verge of vomiting – is what happens when you spend your formative years steeped in the Progressive Identity Hierarchy, in which straight white woman is somewhere near the bottom, barely above the universally disdained straight white man. Inventing some modish gender nonsense – and then publicly complaining about other, less sophisticated people failing to defer to it – may boost your social standing a little. And that does seem to be what these things are very often about.
Ferris State University’s Museum of Sexist Objects.
A Guardian contributor finds her home being burgled, cue mental convolutions.
Readers may also wish to ponder the implicit conceit that the burglars – the ones brandishing carving knives – are the real victims and should therefore be spared any meaningful consequence of their own chosen actions, their own sociopathy. Because, apparently, one should sympathise with the people breaking into one’s home and driving off with one’s stuff. In one’s own car. Perhaps these are skills only available to Guardian columnists.
Consider this an open thread. Share ye links and bicker.
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Wrong but funny.
Seen at Ace’s, make your appointment today.
Why? I’m not running for Congress.
But are you a tenure-track academic?
Side note: I seem to recall that at one time the rule of thumb for renting and mortgages was 1/4 rather than 1/3.
It probably was, @pst. I first heard the 1/3 rule when was in FL in the late 90s as the housing bubble was really starting to inflate, and that was what I was told by the various property managers I tried to rent from. I think I moved 3 or 4 times in 5 years due to rents jacking up and up. By the time I got into grad school, the bubble had burst, and rents were back down, in the Midwest, anyways, so my grad student shoebox was affordable. But I still heard the 1/3 rule – guess grad students were too poor to rent and have 3/4 left over haha.
Them’s fightin’ words.
I vaguely recall commentary decrying the real estate industry changing its advised rule of thumb from 1/4 to 1/3 as not being in the best interests of the customers it purported to serve. But that was 30 to 40 years ago and the details are unclear.
After graduation my first professional job, for which base salary was $17,500, I got a 1BR apartment in Cape Canaveral for $375-$400/month IIRC. Which was a tad over the 1/4 monthly income level that my father had advised, especially given withholding taxes. I was a tad nervous about it but it still left me with enough money to drink beer, shoot pool, play the juke box, and then stumble home from the bar down the street, pay my other annoying expenses, and even put 4% into a matching 401k plan. On top of that, buy drinks and dinner for the barmaid that fell into my lap until I did a WTFID. Then got roommates and whatever. Ah, but I was happy then.
But to this young lady’s specific situation, I do feel bad for her. She was sold a bill of goods as a young person who honestly had little capacity to know better. Though TBF, so was I. Assuming…and I don’t of course know all her specifics but assuming…she went to college and got a degree, she is in much, much deeper sh*t debt-wise than I was. Even if she got a legitimate degree in something reasonable. Young people, for…decades…have been sold on this college crap and the financial consequences. These while much discussed, pale in comparison to the opportunity costs that young people give up by delaying getting real jobs and becoming productive citizens and developing solid relationships that are the foundation for raising stable families and creating a productive society. All because we are expected to “be smart” and “go to college”. Because God knows you can’t do one without the other.
For those without an Instagram account, that link goes to someone commenting on a video. That commenter doesn’t know the video is from 2018, and he also doesn’t know there was a followup (Youtube) soon afterwards.
“Ackshually . . .”
Evidently light-heartedness is not allowed in this establishment. Barkeep, I reiterate my past observation regarding the median age of the patrons. But then, I am not a serious person – I find it to be stifling in my enjoyment of life.
I used to like my generation . . .
She know what chairs fit fat bodies, says this “alternative wedding vendor“.
Ackshually, cougars are dangerous.
I recently discovered the term yaslighting. I.e., enabling a person’s delusions, narcissism, pretensions of victimhood, etc., via social media.
I’m just going to leave this here to aggravate @Karl.
When you think you hate the MSM enough, the LA Times publishes Deep Thoughts™ to prove you wrong.
Oooh, that’s a good one.
How about throwing soup in the LA Times? In professors’ offices?
Meanwhile in Seattle (of course) a high school holds a candle light vigil for a multimillionaire champion of civil rights who was martyred.
Not seeing a problem, they always said politics was a cutthroat business.
Dear Heavens, why?
Bronson: Steve McQueen was also in WWII. On the ship returning from the war in the North Atlantic, a big wave threw some vehicles and men overboard. Steve dove in and saved 5 in spite of the frigid water. The toughness of some of these actors of that generation was not an act.
But I thought knife fights were totally normal and should be ignored…
A very satisfying tweet.
It’s either real or not real or faked or debunked ages ago or so cool or never happened or about time it did or he would have been fired or its not in the uk or one of those other things. According to the replies anyway. Hope this helps!
Steve McQueen was also in WWII.
He was born in 1930, you may be thinking of someone else.
OTOH, Mel Brooks was a combat engineer and Charles Durning landed with the 1ID on D-Day.
“What is the internet anyway?”
[ Thinks back to being excited by first CompuServe email address. ]
Two strings of digits and a comma in the middle, if memory serves.
It’s a demon that screams through your phone.
That’s right: five digits, a comma, three digits.
Were their passwords case-insensitive?
Were their passwords case-insensitive?
Passwords you say?
Marines, 1947-50. He saved the lives of five other Marines during an Arctic exercise, pulling them from a tank before it broke through ice into the sea.
This is a question about the distant past. I’m now trying, vainly, to recall the numbers. There was a one, a zero, possibly two zeros, and a four. Definitely a four. More than that I cannot say.
The internet was at one time mostly upper-case. The unexpected discovery of vast Precambrian lower-case deposits was a game-changer.
[ Considers rummaging through boxes in closet in search of ancient stationary bearing CompuServe address. ]
[ Takes raspberries out of fridge instead. ]
Floppies and DEC tapes went into the trash years ago. I only kept the punch cards because they make handy shirt-pocket note cards.
pst314: thanks for the Steve McQueen save. One begins to doubt one’s memory sometimes. McQueen I believe also did his own motorcycle stunts in The Great Escape
old computers: Summer of 1978 I worked at a factory writing Fortran IV code. They were starting to use an IBM 360. They had an entire store room of punch cards and were wondering what to do with them. That was before tech started changing annually.
Finally got around to watching Ad Astra. Made it two-thirds of the way through with my interest hanging by a thread, then aborted.
The cinematography is pretty, but at no point is it a gripping film. And the voiceover, on which the film relies heavily, soon gets very tiresome.
By way of correction, we are now rewatching the Grand Tour Mongolia Special, aka Survival of the Fattest.
Indeed. I, too!
And yet–let me guess–the critics loved it?
The last 40 years have trained me to be pessimistic about the film industry and to prefer that great SF stories not be adapted for the screen: Nearly always the result will grossly distort the original story and often it will be meretricious.
What’s more, most SF fans will be stupid enough to pay to see the garbage, sometimes because they are too shallow to notice how bad the films are and sometimes because they are willing to pay to watch anything no matter how bad.
[ Aggravation Intensifies ]
[ Offers suspicious looking bottle of booze ]
Here, this ought to calm your nerves. Guaranteed aged for at least one day!
Jesus suffering Christ, I’m gonna need a bigger phone to read the Cookie disclaimer.
How did the free-styling, open-access, universal-levelling internet get to the point of requiring you to agree to a Cookie contract too large to fit on a screen before you can access a fucking poxy movie review site populated by professional liars and paid shills?
I think I might be almost done with this shit.
[ guzzles suspicious looking bottle of booze ]
[ belches actual flames ]
Ooh. That hit the spot.
Cookie disclaimer on Rotten Tomatos or elsewhere? I don’t see one even when I load that page in a “never used” browser.
Bureaucrats, lawyers, and the elected officials that service them.
Rotten Tomatoes.
Won’t even fit on my screen.
In all its glory.
It even covers half my desktop.