The Weird, Random, and Interesting things that Fit Nowhere Else Thread

[Raithe]

[algroth]

 

A trve gamer.

[algroth]

The actual Wall of the Faithless?

[Agiel]

In a year that has taken so much from us, I thought it appropriate to post something remembering what around this day five years ago took:

 

 

Christopher Hitchens, 1949–2011: In Memoriam

by Graydon Carter

 

Christopher Hitchens was a wit, a charmer, and a troublemaker, and to those who knew him well, he was a gift from, dare I say it, God. He died today at the MD Anderson Cancer Center, in Houston, after a punishing battle with esophageal cancer, the same disease that killed his father.

He was a man of insatiable appetites—for cigarettes, for scotch, for company, for great writing, and, above all, for conversation. That he had an output to equal what he took in was the miracle in the man. You’d be hard-pressed to find a writer who could match the volume of exquisitely crafted columns, essays, articles, and books he produced over the past four decades. He wrote often—constantly, in fact, and right up to the end—and he wrote fast; frequently without the benefit of a second draft or even corrections. I can recall a lunch in 1991, when I was editing The New York Observer, and he and Aimée Bell, his longtime editor, and I got together for a quick bite at a restaurant on Madison, no longer there. Christopher’s copy was due early that afternoon. Pre-lunch canisters of scotch were followed by a couple of glasses of wine during the meal and a similar quantity of post-meal cognac. That was just his intake. After stumbling back to the office, we set him up at a rickety table and with an old Olivetti, and in a symphony of clacking he produced a 1,000-word column of near perfection in under half an hour.

Christopher was one of the first writers I called when I came to Vanity Fair in 1992. Six years before, I had called on him to write for Spy. That offer was ever so politely rejected. The Vanity Fair approach had a fee attached, though, and to my everlasting credit, he accepted and has been writing for the magazine ever since. With the exception of Dominick Dunne (who died in 2009), no writer has been more associated with Vanity Fair. There was no subject too big or too small for Christopher. Over the past two decades he traveled to just about every hot spot you can think of. He’d also subject himself to any manner of humiliation or discomfort in the name of his column. I once sent him out on a mission to break the most niggling laws still on the books in New York City. One such decree forbade riding a bicycle with your feet off the pedals. The photograph that ran with the column, of Christopher sailing a small bike through Central Park with his legs in the air, looked like something out of the Moscow Circus. When he embarked on a cause of self-improvement for a three-part series, he subjected himself to myriad treatments to improve his dental area and other dark regions. At one point I suggested he go to a well-regarded waxing parlor in town for what they indelicately call the “sack, back, and crack.” He struggled to absorb the full meaning of this, but after a few seconds he smiled a nervous smile and said, “In for a penny . . . ”

Christopher was the beau ideal of the public intellectual. You felt as though he was writing to you and to you alone. And as a result many readers felt they knew him. Walking with him down the street in New York or through an airplane terminal was like escorting a movie star through the throngs.

Christopher was brave not just in facing the illness that took him, but brave in words and thought. He did not mind landing outside the cozy cocoon of conventional liberal wisdom, his curious, pro-war stance before the invasion of Iraq being but one example. Friends distanced themselves from him during those unlit days. But he stuck to his guns. After his rather famous 1995 attack on Mother Teresa in these pages, one of our contributing editors, a devout Catholic, came into the office filled with umbrage and announced that he was canceling his subscription. “You can’t cancel it,” I said. “You get the magazine for free!” Years ago, in the midst of the Clinton impeachment uproar, Christopher had a very public dustup with his good friend Sidney Blumenthal, a Clinton White House functionary—the dispute was over which part of a conversation between them was or was not on the record. Christopher wound up on television a lot defending himself. He looked like hell, and I suggested we bring him to New York for a bit of a makeover and some R&R away from the cameras. The magazine was pretty flush back then, and we set him up with a new suit, shirts, ties, and such. When someone from the fashion department asked him what size his shoes were, he said he didn’t know—the pair he had on was borrowed.

I could not begin to list the pantheon of public intellectuals and close friends who will mourn his passing, but it would most certainly include Martin Amis, Salman Rushdie, Ian McEwan, Richard Dawkins, James Fenton, Christopher Buckley, and Hitchens’s agent, Steve Wasserman. Christopher had his share of lady admirers too, including—but certainly not limited to—Anna Wintour, back when he was young and still relatively fragrant. His wife, Carol, a writer, filmmaker, and legendary hostess, set a high bar in how to handle a flower like Christopher, both when he was healthy and during his last days. An invitation to their vast apartment in the Wyoming on Columbia Road, in Washington, D.C., was a prized reward for being a part of their circle or even on the fringes of it. We used to hold an anti–White House Correspondents party there in the 90s and 2000s; the Salon des Refuses, he called it. You could meet anyone there. From Supreme Court justices to right-wing windbags to, well, Barbra Streisand and other assorted totems of the left. He was a good friend who wished his friends well. And as a result he had a lot of them.

Christopher had an enviable career arc that began with his own brand of fiery journalism at Britain’s New Statesman and then wended its way to America, where he wrote for everyone from The Atlantic and Harper’s to Slate and The New York Times Book Review. And we all called him our own. He was a legend on the speakers’ circuit, and could debate just about anyone on anything. He won umpteen awards—although that was not the sort of thing that fueled his work—and in the last decade he wrote best-sellers, including a memoir, Hitch-22, that finally put some money into his family’s pocket. In the last weeks of his life, he was told that an asteroid had been named after him. He was pleased by the thought, and inasmuch as the word is derived from the Greek, meaning “star-like,” and asteroids are known to be volatile, it is a fitting honor.

To his friends, Christopher will be remembered for his elevated but inclusive humor and for a staggering, almost punishing memory that held up under the most liquid of late-night conditions. And to all of us, his readers, Christopher Hitchens will be remembered for the millions of words he left behind. They are his legacy. And, God love him, it was his will.

[Hurlshort]

Something that all you dumbasses should know about women.

 

[Gromnir]

Something that all you dumbasses should know about women.

 

(video)

and yet go ahead and even imply that perhaps, maybe, a woman might be behaving a bit peculiar 'cause o' pms or her period and wait for the predictable unpleasant reaction.  

 

am not a woman.  *shrug*  am nevertheless baffled by the near universal experience for pre menopausal women, which we, as men, must needs simultaneously (impossibly) sympathize with and ignore.  do not be dismissive of cycle. do not suggest the cycle has impact 'pon behavior.  

 

conclusion: almost 1/2 half the world population needs to just sack up 'bout their periods.

 

kidding. 

 

...

 

sorta.

 

HA! Good Fun!

 

ps is almost 1/2 'cause while women outnumber men, quite a few is too young or too old to need deal with the cycle.

[Hurlshort]

I don't know, I just got yelled at by my wife because I asked her about a pair of old boots while she was eating breakfast.  This time of the month is pretty much a minefield when it comes to social interactions.  But I know in a few hours I'll get an apology for it.  It's just up to me to not make matters worse before that happens.

[Gfted1]

RIP Zsa Zsa Gabor.

 

That doesnt even look like a real sentence.

[Malcador]

I don't know, I just got yelled at by my wife because I asked her about a pair of old boots while she was eating breakfast.  This time of the month is pretty much a minefield when it comes to social interactions.  But I know in a few hours I'll get an apology for it.  It's just up to me to not make matters worse before that happens.

That sounds incredibly tedious

[Hurlshort]

 

I don't know, I just got yelled at by my wife because I asked her about a pair of old boots while she was eating breakfast.  This time of the month is pretty much a minefield when it comes to social interactions.  But I know in a few hours I'll get an apology for it.  It's just up to me to not make matters worse before that happens.

That sounds incredibly tedious

 

 

I could go with a number of cliche responses here, but the simplest is probably just to say the great moments far outweigh the bad.

 

 

 

Who am I kidding, I can't resist a good cliche.  The best rewards in life require sacrifice, patience, and hard work.  That's what both marriage and parenting are.  

[Gfted1]

Russian ambassador in Turkey killed in gun attack at Ankara photo exhibit.

[s13ep]

"I mean, put the Lego away, let intellectual discussion begin..."

 

Is it wise to think of logic, singly, as intelligent, rather than logic and creativity?

 

Quote

Each egg (produced by the female) contains one X chromosome, and sperm (produced by the male) can contain either an X or a Y chromosome. If the sperm that fertilizes the egg contains a X chromosome, then the child will be female. If the sperm that fertilizes the egg contains a Y chromosome, then the child will be male.

 

 

- A (current) scientific explanation for 'how a baby's gender is determined'.

 

I asked a question, and produced an argument: are babies genders determined, randomly, or naturally?

 

Do you consider the natural circumstances of childbirth to be, metaphorically, like a bubble (i.e. contained in theoretical space)?

 

I argue that natural circumstances are, in this context, universal, and therefore can't be reduced to a single moment (How big is the bubble?)

 

When a male reproduces with a female, a baby (or babies) is born of either male or female gender. Though this process is random, the result is determined by the male and female duet.

 

To conclude, I argue that there is balance between logic and creativity, that it's unwise to think of logic, singly, as intelligent.

Edited December 20, 2016 by s13ep

[Bartimaeus]

"The Forgotten Kennedy"

 

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2009/aug/13/eunice-kennedy-shriver-rosemary-kennedy

 

Additional excerpt from Wikipedia:

 

During November 1941, when Rosemary Kennedy was 23, doctors told Joseph P. Kennedy, Sr. that a new neurosurgical procedure, lobotomy, would help calm her mood swings and stop her occasional violent outbursts. (About 80 lobotomies, 80% on women, had been performed in the United States by the time.) He decided that his daughter should have the lobotomy performed; however, he did not inform his wife Rose of this until after the procedure was completed. Rosemary was strapped to the operating table. James W. Watts, who carried out the procedure with Walter Freeman of Wingdale Psychological and Correctional Facility, described what happened next (as narrated by Ronald Kessler):

 

"We went through the top of the head, I think she was awake. She had a mild tranquilizer. I made a surgical incision in the brain through the skull. It was near the front. It was on both sides. We just made a small incision, no more than an inch." The instrument Dr. Watts used looked like a butter knife. He swung it up and down to cut brain tissue. "We put an instrument inside", he said. As Dr. Watts cut, Dr. Freeman put questions to Rosemary. For example, he asked her to recite the Lord's Prayer or sing "God Bless America" or count backwards... "We made an estimate on how far to cut based on how she responded." ... When she began to become incoherent, they stopped.

 

After the lobotomy, it quickly became apparent that the procedure was not successful. Kennedy's mental capacity diminished to that of a two-year-old child. She could not walk or speak intelligibly and was incontinent.

 

It sure would suck to be forcibly lobotomized for just being a kid in a powerful family.

Edited December 22, 2016 by Bartimaeus

[Darkpriest]

 

Surprised they didn't put Bloomberg network anywhere there.

[Raithe]

For the science folk out there, 2016 keeps on taking..

 

Vera Rubin, Who confirmed existence of dark matter dies at 88

Edited December 27, 2016 by Raithe

[Malcador]

[Azdeus]

I had some thoughs about buying swedish MRE's, just to not have to bother with thinking up what to eat, but they're damn expensive. 40$ per day is way out of my league.

[Raithe]

[Gfted1]

I had some thoughs about buying swedish MRE's, just to not have to bother with thinking up what to eat, but they're damn expensive. 40$ per day is way out of my league.

Reading this tapped into my inner survivalist and a quick Amazon search shows US military surplus going for $65 and $53 for menus A and B respectively. Each has 12 pouches to the box so that averages out to $5 / pouch or $15 / day.

[Malcador]

That's not bad. Though repetition may damage sanity

[ShadySands]

It will probably also make you gain a ton of weight unless you are super active and not to mention that it will also back you up. So unless you are secretly bear (or a prepper) and are preparing to hibernate I'd probably pass on that

[Azdeus]

Reading this tapped into my inner survivalist and a quick Amazon search shows US military surplus going for $65 and $53 for menus A and B respectively. Each has 12 pouches to the box so that averages out to $5 / pouch or $15 / day.

That's pretty nice, I'd have gone for that if it was that cheap here. I'm a bit envious

 

That's not bad. Though repetition may damage sanity

Well, there were 7 different menus, that's more variety than I get now actually.

I really hate cooking.

I'm pretty certain it'd be more tasty than things I cook myself!

 

It will probably also make you gain a ton of weight unless you are super active and not to mention that it will also back you up. So unless you are secretly bear (or a prepper) and are preparing to hibernate I'd probably pass on that

 

I would not have been too worried about that, there might have been some gain, but my work is really physically intensive, so I reckon I could burn off that energy. Worst case, I'd just have to eat slightly less of it.

[Gfted1]

The US version is ~1250 calories (5230 joules) each meal. They are pretty cool too, for example (per a review) the beef ravioli meal includes:

 

Dried cranberries

Cheese with bacon spread

Bread

Barbecue flavored corn nuggets

Beef ravioli and meat sauce

Powdered orange drink mix

Freeze dried coffee

Splenda packet

Creamer

Hot sauce

Mints

Salt

Toilet paper

Hot beverage bag (to heat you water for instant coffee)

Cardboard heater pocket

Meal heater pouch

Spoon (the big green heavy weight one)

Moist towelette

[Raithe]

[Raithe]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oIBmV-X0t9Y