Not a parody. It’s a real PC game, if someone wants to try it out. I’m safe because I only have Macs.
Pharyngula
Evolution, development, and random biological ejaculations from a godless liberal
Not a parody. It’s a real PC game, if someone wants to try it out. I’m safe because I only have Macs.
With mixed feelings, I announce the demise of Paul the ‘psychic’ octopus.
On the one hand, he was a living creature, and I feel sadness at any death. On the other hand, he was a psychic fraud, and I have no sympathy for those rascals. On the other hand, he was a cephalopod, and those especially deserve to thrive. On the other hand, the hype surrounding him was tiresome and overblown—good riddance. On the other hand, he was being exploited by his trainers slave masters, so he hardly deserves the blame. On the other hand, what a waste of everyone’s time to be playing fake psychic games with already boring football games. On the other hand, he spent his life confined to a really boring tank instead of savoring the splendor of life in the wild. On the other hand, he did have a life of safety and security and readily available food, so it could have been a better life than the typical short and brutal experience of nature.
I guess the bottom line is that I regret the death of the octopus, but am relieved that there’ll be no more of this psychic flim-flam.
Fabulous fashion statement:
I’m thinking I could one-up her if I stopped trimming the beard, too.
Daniel Phelps just reminded me that today is 23 October, the date that James Ussher, Church of Ireland Archbishop of Armagh and Primate of All Ireland, determined to be the very first day of creation in 4004 BCE. That makes the world 6013 years old today, in his chronology (if you’re adding it up at home, remember that there is no year 0).
Keep in mind that you now have excuses to party almost all week. Tomorrow, you should celebrate the creation of heaven and Space Water. You knew the earth was a floaty in a watery universe, right? I think the appropriate celebration is to drink.
Monday, you can celebrate Oceans and Plants day. Garden or go to the shore. And drink.
Tuesday is Moon Day. It’s also Sun Day. It took god a few days, but he finally got around to creating the celestial bodies. This should be a day sacred to werewolves and anathema to vampires. Celebrate by voting for Team Jacob. And drinking.
Wednesday is birds and fish day. This is a day of sorrow, because all the cephalopods will be weeping at their neglect — they don’t even get a mention in the book, except for a later declaration that they are generically unclean. Either that or the clueless idjits who wrote the book considered squid to be fish, which is highly offensive. Celebrate by contemplating cephalopods and raising many toasts to them.
Thursday is “Aw, screw it, I’m done” day, in which you just give up on your work, throw it all together in a big pile, announce that it’s good enough, and ship it. Celebrate by going out for ribs and putting your drink on, ’cause you aren’t doing a thing tomorrow.
That’s the plan, get out and implement it. Alternatively, you could look at the document above and recognize that it’s all an awesome load of absurd blatherskite and just toss it all in the rubbish.
I’m kind of leaning towards the latter plan.
Mormons go around baptizing the dead into their church, but at least dead people were once real…the official Vatican newspaper has just announced that Homer and Bart Simpson are Catholic. It’s not clear whether they didn’t mention Marge, Lisa, and Maggie because they lack the sacred Y chromosome of Jesus that is required to be a true Catholic, or if it’s because, perhaps, they are apostate Presbylutherans.
Somebody should send this image to the jail in Berkeley County, SC. This is what happens if you let prisoners have bibles.
“Oh,” I thought, “I’ve never seen a video of George Bernard Shaw before,” so I clicked on the link.
I’ve never had my opinion of someone plummet so rapidly.
I was also thinking that he looks pretty old here, and probably can’t carry hod or dig ditches well enough to earn his keep, so maybe someone should have euthanized him.
You already know I dislike religion; it’s a dreadful tool for distorting human values. I’m also an opponent of sexist socialization that short-changes women, in particular. How about if we combine both? Behold, My Princess Bible(amzn/b&n/abe/pwll), a book you can give to your little girl to turn them into Disneyesque Bible freaks.
I’m a little disappointed, though. Is there also a Bratz Bible?
Sadly, this thing gets mostly good reviews at Amazon, and there’s only one 1-star review. That’s not the worst of it, either: the one bad review complains that there isn’t enough Jesus and too much focus on the women of the Bible.
It would be a mercy. George Lucas is preparing another release of all of his Star Wars movies, after yet again tweaking them.
The new versions will be in…cheesy post-processed pseudo-3-D.
When the first one was released back in 1977 it was phenomenal — a pulpy space opera with dialogue that had the panache of a Hugo Gernsback short story, and we liked it. Then came the sequel, and we were overjoyed…it was still good old fashioned science fiction, but it was better than the first. And from that point on, unfortunately, it was dissolution and decay, beginning with the Ewoks and ending in the terminal embarrassment of Jar Jar Binks. Yet Lucas keeps tinkering with the sell-out garbage, trying to restore that brief moment of magic by hammering it all flatter and paving it over with a virtual steamroller of reprocessing and rewriting.
Nothing will save them, George. They were badly conceived and badly written, and yet another digital makeover will not change that fact. Maybe if you’d written them competently when you made them, you wouldn’t be masturbating their corpses now.
