Time Pilot 1984 was a kick-ass 2D scroller. But then I am a dinosaur whose FPS skills peaked with Quake and UT (where you could always set your FOV to whatever you wanted, IIRC). Whatever. I'll still kick your schoolboy ass at paintball or conkers or petanque or tennis or nine ball. "Never give a sword to a man who can't dance." - Confucius. Oh, and you can stay on my lawn, I don't give a shit about it.
As someone who has unboxed, set up and distributed literally thousands of Macs over the years, I can safely say that the vast majority of users do not need, want or care about most of the cables, adapters and other stuff that comes in the box. If selling some of those things separately can lower the cost of the base machine for those who don't need them, not to mention keeping millions of unwanted dongles out of landfills, I'm all for it.
I see many other ways that public safety is compromised over money and the bottom lines of many big industries besides just Big Medicine. What if, just to idly speculate, the root cause(s) of Autistic Spectrum Disorders turned out to have something to do with one or more of the Persistent Organic Pollutants that pregnant women and developing babies in this and other "developed" nations are pretty much marinating in for most of their lives? You think Big Petroleum or any of its marvelous industries (electronics, personal care and fragrance, cleaning products, plastics, processed food, etc.) are going to like being implicated in that? The army of lawyers they unleash will make a horde of Uruk-hai look like Tribbles.
"HEEL to the bawls..." - Bas Ruten
i think i need underpants made out of this stuff.
Bringing this back on-topic, I feel exactly the same way about perfume. All I want is to breathe clean air, but every time I go out in public some asshole has to ruin it for me. What the fuck makes people think they have the right to pollute my personal airspace with that obnoxious garbage? Every time some Axe-boy walks past and fills my nostrils with the reek of synthetic male puberty pheromones I have to stifle a very strong primal urge to snap their scrawny neck like a toothpick. When I finally do crack and go off on my rampage, my defense will be chemically-induced temporary insanity. The first one to go will be the one who calls me a "whiner" or some such; then I will give them something to whine about for the last few seconds of their life.
If God had not given us sticky tape, it would have been necessary to invent it.
