Another scientist at CERN, Steven Goldfarb, was more blunt and to the point. “It would burn right through you.”
Barney explained that a much wider halo of radioactive subatomic particles, mostly electrons and muons, accompanies the “extremely” intense proton beam.
“Your whole body would be irradiated. You’d die pretty quickly.”
Let us assume they are serious, and this “holacracy” is their real intent as opposed to the kind of window dressing that small companies use to mask their transition to big companies. It’s still hogwash.
Labor is conditional upon employment: one works because one is paid. People whose work is unsatisfactory are thus a negative value for their employers. So any company must have the capacity to end employment for those who do not work to the company’s goals.
Ah, but who defines such things? Who decides what are the company’s goals and what is “satisfactory”? Not everyone, surely: such would mean an infinity of mission statements (the horror!), and eventually, collapse.
So only certain people are given the authority to a) decide the goals, and b) reward or punish those who meet, exceed, or fail these goals.
Whoever these people are, whatever their title, however carefully the iron fist is swaddled in dainty gloves of pre-war velvet, they are the bosses. Whoever isn’t a boss is a worker. Et voila! Hierarchy.
‘You’re a bad man’ says British boy to Nairobi gunman.
“No we aren’t, here’s a Mars bar. Now run off and convert to Islam. Can you forgive us?”
The above is not parody. The above is what happened at the mall shooting in Kenya over the weekend.
The mind boggles.
On the one hand, it’s good to see that some spark, however small and cold, of moral awareness remains in a jihadi. We should never wish our enemies to be totally depraved.
But “Forgive us?” Forgiveness presupposes contrition, and contrition presupposes sin. If the jihadi believes that he is doing God’s work in gunning down unarmed civilizans, then the only consistent response to being told “You are a bad man,” would be a bullet.
Yet that did not happen. The truth shall set you free, even out of the mouths of babes.
Anthony Weiner has today boasted today that ‘people who know me are still going to vote for me’ as he headed back out on the campaign trail in Manhattan, in defiance of revelations about explicit messages and photos that he sent to a 23-year-old political activist a year after resigning from Congress.
The disgraced politician, who was previously leading the race to become New York City’s next mayor, is now being called on by his competitors to drop out and was the subject of scathing editorials from the city’s leading newspapers. Billionaire Republican candidate John Catsimatidis and Democrats Sal Albanese and Bill de Blasio have all made statements urging him to resign, with de Blasio saying: ‘Enough is enough’.
I was gone all weekend sans internet, so I’m just glomming onto this now. I am without words.
See, if that had happened last December, I might have bought into all that Mayan Prophecy horse-puckers.
I mean, what’s next?
You have been warned.
If I was a cynical man, I’d suspect that whatever intern at NSTB “confirmed” this decided that it was too funny NOT to go on the air. In any case, if you’re like me, you will laugh, and then despise yourself for laughing.
What makes it extra funny is the serious “journalist” voice that the anchor uses, and how carefully she pronounces “Fuk” so that it does not run afoul of Standards & Practices.
They have since retracted the names.
via Protein Wisdom.
I’ve ignored this, because I don’t often concern myself with cooking show celebrities, because I hate cooking shows. They inflame the desire but cannot satisfy it. They are to the palate what strip clubs are to the libido.
What noise crossed my transom made it sound as though Paula Deen had dropped an n-bomb sometime last week. Which didn’t sound impossible. She’s old, and old people sometimes fail to fully internalize new standards of behavior. So, when the zeitgeist seemed to say “Get ye gone, you old racist purveyor of sugary deliciousness,” I shrugged. No, I did not take the time to shrug.
Because that word has become a signifier of what has become our society’s cardinal heresy: intolerance. And as when the Inquisition rolled into town hunting Cathars and Fraticelli, those who get caught with it had best just go ahead and abase themselves. Anything else smells of relapse.
Howsomever, a few people’s Facebook posts suggested that the n-bomb in question was 20 years past it’s prosecute-by date. So I dug. And having gotten a basic gist from Teh Interwebs (E Online was kind enough to give us a scandal timeline), my attitude has changed to:
People, Al Sharpton is on Deen’s side on this. At least in so far as he considers it unfair to hold something she said 20 years ago against her.
Al. Freaking. Sharpton.
When Al Sharpton says that there’s not enough racism to warrant controversy, I think that means there’s not enough racism to warrant controversy. I tend to assume Al Sharpton has gone through the couch cushions and found every last bit of toothsome racism to suckle on.
Yes, yes, I know, Al Sharpton is not the Boss of Black People (Jay-Z is). And it’s entirely fair to point out that an n-bomb dropped in 1993 is hardly the same as one from 1943 or even 1963. But Holy Lord, is there anyone out there who’s cool with having all of their mistakes from 1993 made into public scandal?
Of course, if it should come out that Paula is still as racist as a minstrel show, then all of this will be inoperative. But otherwise, this all seems terrifyingly obligatory. Even the Inquisition let you off the hook when you confessed your error.
What’s all this then?
The Supreme Court trolls us again, with a brace of decisions designed to irritate everyone. First, DOMA gets smacked down, on what seems like a federalism basis, but which Justice Scalia assures is us not. Then, the plaintiffs in California’s Prop 8 case get told they have no standing to sue, and instructs the appelate court to dismiss on that basis.
What else? Mick Jagger, who’s always had an ear to the shifting grounds of cool, announces to the world that it’s now all right to make fun of Obama. Of course, they booed him. The Divinity of Caeser shall not be question.
I don’t care. I’ve joined a gym and put the finishing touches on a novel. Or what seems to be finishing touches. Perfect PDF’s develop errors on the way to the online print-check. You know the drill. This one has been in embryo for a while, has actually been out for notes from various friends in an initial draft form. I’ve reached that delicate point where I am satisfied with it. It is what it is and does what it does. Personally, I think it’s great, and if it sells, there might could be a sequel. Might could.
The Title: Solar System Blues.
Also, enjoy a rather silly track I slapped together with the Yellofier:
That’s all. Enjoy the heat.
Here’s a joke from my old blog:
A: With a crowbar.
This was in response not only to the linked material, but to the centrifugal talking points that accompanied the almost-extradition of Roman Polanski from Switzerland a few years ago. You remember, “it wasn’t rape-rape” and “what was that little girl doing there anyway?” and all of that. At the time, I turned it all into an essay entitled “With the Rich and Mighty, or is Roman Polanski as smart as Michael Vick?” (available as part of my Typing into the Void collection, which I mention instead of rattling any kind of tip jar. It’s only $2.99 on Kindle!) It seemed to me then, and seemed to me now, that proggies are entirely willing to give legal passes to members of Designated Victim Groups and/or Significantly Important Artistes. Polanski was both.
Kaitlyn Hunt, an 18-year-old charged with statutory rape on a 14-year-old girl, only meets the first requirement. But that’s good enough for the sterling intellectuals at Daily Kos, who are busily pretending that Florida law, which has set its age of consent at 16 or 18 years old, depending on closeness of age, somehow has a “unless it’s for hot lesbo action” corollary. Other McCain has the goods.
I seem to recall an Ally McBeal storyline along the same lines: defending a woman in her 30′s charged with seducing a 16-year-old boy because she was full of so many feels and just had to Bridge her Madison County, IYKWIMAITYD. It’s okay if you’re a woman, or gay, or a gay woman. Heterosexual males, on the other hand…
(Sidebar: How stale are my pop culture references? I mean, Ally McBeal, Bridges of Madison County, and then I toss in a quote from Wargames. These jokes are all old enough vote. I need to hang out at Buzzfeed some more.)