I use mine as an ashtray. What do you guys do with yours?
I forgot it was silly season. Mind you, it is the off-year one, the Winter Olympics to Superbowl Tuesday's buffet of awesomeness, so one really cares, including me.
Still, though, props to Brat for achieving trivia question notoriety. It's almost a shame his votes (should he actually make it to Congress) will be in line with his party waaaaaaaaaaay more often than not.
And congrats to the Democrats as well. Always nice when the other team commits an unforced error.
Thinking about jumping ship from my cheap but reliable 3GS into the android pool. I'm assuming it's all about the hardware, right? Apart from the Samsung offerings, which everybody raves about (yet I'm not a huge fan of the form factor), has anyone got any recommendations?
I've not been posting on Slashdot much this week, because I've been trying out Soylent News, which is using (and old version of) Slashcode (with some improvements) and lacks corporate overlords. It seems to have captured most of what I like about discussions in Slashdot, although is suffering slightly from not having nearly as many active users (50 or so comments is still the norm and it probably needs 100+ to be sustainable).
If you've not visited yet, I'd recommend giving it a go.
I'm TheRaven over there.
The Finns are definitely going to give you a run for your money if you play like you did today.
So I see Slashdot is heading towards another redesign, and there's a fair amount of folks fighting the good fight. While I wish you all the best in your current endeavor, I shan't participate or agitate.
Because the sad truth is, original flavour management already killed off this site almost ten years ago through sheer lack of giving a fuck, and Slashdot's first exodus happened, taking some of the best from this place. Worse, Taco and cronies decided that the best move after that was to spend too long slapping a coat of Web 2.0 all over the place, which had the net effect of getting rid of around half the people who had decided it stick it out. By the time Barry O. was inaugurated, the damage was well and truly done. The only people left were idiots, trolls and the precious few too lazy to jump ship.
So go ahead, flood FP stories with anti-beta comments, create alternative communities but remember: This is well-trod ground. Many before you have tried and failed. Moreover, there's nothing here left to save anyway.
Best of luck.
This is why I stopped paying attention to conservatives long ago: Breathless hype of impending doom, but as you investigate, you find that no matter what technical truth is contained in these overhyped claims, the reality always turns out to be underwhelming at best.
I got my first taste of it back in the late 90s when the big conspiracy theory of the day was FEMA's apparently limitless power during a crisis. Clinton, busy with Lewinskygate, and on his way out, was just waiting for one good disaster in order to unleash FEMA and some sort of New World Order. And then you find out it's just boilerplate shit about responsibility, chain of command, and agency co-operation in order to better respond during an emergency.
And so we come to Dictator Obama and his Fascist Regime, Executive Orders flying out as as fast as his army of statist apparatchiks can churn them out, making a mockery of the Greatest Democracy in the world, like no other politician in the history of ever.
To be fair though, shame on me. I'm the one got excited then disappointed. No point in blaming the howler monkeys for being the usual idiots on this one.
Good on you, Utah:
In 2005, Utah figured out that the annual cost of E.R. visits and jail stays for homeless people was about $16,670 per person, compared to $11,000 to provide each homeless person with an apartment and a social worker. So, the state began giving away apartments, with no strings attached. Each participant in Utahâ(TM)s Housing First program also gets a caseworker to help them become self-sufficient, but they keep the apartment even if they fail. The program has been so successful that other states are hoping to achieve similar results with programs modeled on Utahâ(TM)s.
Finally graduated to a postpaid wireless plan. All the good shit was taken of course, but I managed to get xxx-FRAK, so I got that going for me, which is nice.
So, apparently there's a lot of hubbub over the national hotline for Obamacare translating to the above epithet.
Now, I thought the idiots hyping this up were conveniently leaving the last digit out in order to preserve the joke, and fair enough.
But then I come to learn that the telephone number actually contains the number 1 in the prefix, so that the transcription would more accurately read 1-800-F1UCKYO.
And again, I'm a charitable man, so have your yucks where you can get 'em, but make sure to get in and out quickly and cleanly. If you get to the part where you have to explain that the joke only works when you rearrange the digits, all they'll remember is that you can't tell a joke.
Any truthers still left out there?
Ya fucking morons.
So I'm cutting up a Trinidad Scorpion Butch-T pepper with gloves on, and sprinkling it around a pizza that I am going to cook and eat. Grown in worm casings, it is said to be the hottest pepper in the history of anything, ever.
I didn't have a surplus of worm casings when I planted my plant, Trisha (yes, I name my ridiculous pepper plants). But I did have enough household compost to dig a big hole and replace it with the results from a worm-heavy cold-compost pile before planting the little girl in the middle of that pile of worm-digested food.
Therefore I suspect she's very well-fed; indeed, she's grown much larger than any other first-year pepper plant in the garden, without any purposeful chemical treatments or chemical fertilizer.
I've grown ghost peppers (bhot jolokia) for a few years, and I think I understand what I'm in for. The Scorpions have just started to ripen for the season and this is my first of them.
So I pick a deliciously-colored one, quickly sharpen a good knife, and chop it up finely with gloved hands. Still wearing the nitrile gloves, I scrape the minced pepper from the cutting board and sprinkle it onto the pizza. And I take the gloves off and throw them away, because I'm done handling it now -- right?
But seeing those tiny morsels of pepper on that slab of cardboard crust, tomato goo, and imitation cheese makes me think: Gee, how hot could it be?
So I gather up a tiny sliver from the surface of the pizza with my fingertips and eat it. Yep: It's hot. So hot that it has no redeeming qualities, other than just being hot. None of this was unexpected, though at least by comparison a Habernero has a strong and sweet citrus quality once one gets past the pain... But there was no redeeming quality to this pepper: Just pain.
Well enough, I say to myself. I set the oven to pre-heat the oven and go take a leak while I wait.
Twenty minutes later, my fingers are fine. My palette is fine. My throat is fine. My genitals are on fire.
It's not like I can buy these things at the market, so it's amusing to see how persistent this pepper is in casual use.
And, by God, I'm going to cook that pizza. And I'm going to eat it. And I'm going to handle each and every bite with dishwasher-safe, stainless utensils, and I am going to wash them with an enzyme-based detergent and then a bleach-based detergent -- nobody needs to experience this on accident.
I might even put a fresh pair of nitrile gloves on, just to make sure that nothing that goes in my face winds up somewhere other than in my face when I eat this pizza.
But the question is: Why? Why not just enjoy some bland, cheap, freezer pizza? Why, while I wait, do I suffer from a special kind of burning nasal distress every time I emit a tiny burp or belch, having eaten just the tiniest sliver of a pepper? Why can't I just admire Trisha in all of her visual Trinidad Scorpion Butch-T delight? (She is a very lovely plant, after all.)
Why must I torture myself by eating her fruit?
I think he gave away the whole game in that one sentence, and his meaning is clear: The interception, collection and storage (not to mention collation, reproduction, distribution, analysis and many other important sounding words Iâ(TM)m forgetting right now) of untold millions of petabytes is simply a byproduct of whatever it is that the NSAâ(TM)s really been up to these last few decades.
It would be irresponsible to speculate at this juncture, but consider that whatever the NSA is truly doing, it is of such horrible provenance that theyâ(TM)re willing the coverup to be âoeWeâ(TM)re running some fairly comprehensive Police State shit on your ass.â
And a hearty Rot In Hell for Maggie.
Honestly, fuck all you fawning, simpering retards who've never set foot in Blighty. Except for a 5 minute period in 1982, a minimum of half the country has always hated her guts, and for good reason. So unbunch your panties already.
Oh, and, Trifecta is in play (only reason I posted this damn thing.)
While I agree it seems a little short-sighted to give "everything" to JJ Abrams and/or his production company, pretty much everything else on the FP thread about him and Valve teaming up is just fucking useless. While I'm not going to hold up Super 8, Cloverfield or even the Trek reboot as masterpieces, the sheer fucking entitlement, whining and nose-holding regarding the news is just awe-inspiring to behold.
And here's the thing. I read a lot of internet crap in the course of the day, so I've seen a ton of editorial and commentariat content on this news already, from a variety of different websites, each with their own style and community, and nowhere on any of those will I find anything close to the retardery here.
So, why am I here again? Can't think of any bloody reason really.
Y'all have fun, and feel free to drop me a line if you want, but fuck this place. It's not even worth the handful of half-assed visits I could muster up lately.