Who would win in a battle between an Imperial Super Star Destroyer and a giant space octopus?
Pharyngula
Evolution, development, and random biological ejaculations from a godless liberal
Who would win in a battle between an Imperial Super Star Destroyer and a giant space octopus?
I’ve never been surprised at a conference by anything like this: Ken Ham got a certificate for fighting the “principalities and powers of darkness.”
He [the creationist with the award] told the conference audience gathered at Quentin Road Bible Baptist Church that his creation group, Midwest Creation Fellowship, had passed a resolution—which they called a “spiritual bouquet.” In the resolution, it stated that because the “principalities and powers of darkness have captured the minds of many in our society, and whereas Ken Ham left his homeland of Australia to confront the forces arrayed against God and His Word,” I was being acknowledged by the MCF.
OK, gang, in order to keep up, I’m expecting an award from you guys for combat against fictitious beings. Maybe a “wrestling with mermaids” framed certificate, or a shiny medallion that praises my competence at squishing angels. We have a spiritual award gap here, people!
I’ve been fighting a lonely, valiant battle against the domination of cats on the internet, one where even my co-blogger betrays me, but at least Zach Weinersmith understands me.
I hadn’t realized until now that cats on the internet also explains the Fermi paradox. Cats: not just annoying, but guilty of extraterrestrial genocide.
I just want you all to know that when I arrived at my mother’s house last night, she was wearing this t-shirt. Why aren’t you? She clearly recognizes the objective beauty of the item, so I don’t know what your problem is.
It’s morning here, so it’s probably safe to post this now. I read this article just before bed last night, and then I had a nightmare.
I dreamt that I walked into my classroom, and 50 pairs of eyes all turned to me, and they were all wearing Google Glass, and there were all these little red cyborg lights blinking at me. And there I was torn between the horror of my every word and expression being uploaded to Google’s servers, and…wanting one myself.
Don’t worry, though, I knew it was a dream, so I just flooded the whole room with salt water and shorted out their gadgets, and then I turned them all into mermaids and we…well, you don’t need to know.
But still! After the conversation about privacy yesterday, it was a bit worrisome.
He’s got to have dark skin, and he’s got to have a surprising resemblance to…
The History Channel is showing some popular pestilential schlock about the Bible, and Satan has to make an apearance somewhere, so they found an actor who fits the popular perception of Satan. Who has a surprising resemblance to Barack Obama.
Or — think about this — maybe Obama has an unsurprising resemblance to Satan. Huh? Yeah? Maybe everyone’s got it backwards, and a cheesy TV show has unveiled the face of the antichrist. (I wouldn’t be surprised if there aren’t wingnuts already making that argument, but seriously.)
As I’ve been shedding the meat from my diet, I don’t need discouragement like this: a fellow ate a vegetarian burrito and picked up a tapeworm from it, which infected his brain. Is there to be no reward for virtue?
Of course, when you think about the mode of transmission, it probably got into the burrito by way of the poor hygiene of the cook, who’d either been handling raw meat or feces…
Wait, take it away, suddenly I don’t want the steak, either.
Whatever you do, don’t think too hard about where its spine would go. That way lies madness. Which is exactly how the Hummonite gets you.
(via TONMO)
This is how Sony is advertising some new gaming gadget. Somehow, I don’t think they’re trying to appeal to women gamers.
I also don’t think plunking the female form down deep into the Uncanny Valley like that is going to appeal to most well-adjusted males.
The other trope on display that I see a fair bit: showing just the torso while cutting off the model’s face. That’s one I sometimes see with male models, too — there’s nothing quite like obliterating the most expressive part of the human body to completely objectify your subject.
