Posts tagged: Dumbassery

Too ridiculous for words.

February 8, 2007, by No comments yet

…but I’ll try anyway.

I’ve been to Japan and have seen how that gadget-loving nation carries hi-tech to extremes, including toilets equipped with seatwarmers, bidet-style or regular spray warm water jets for rinsing, and a fan to air dry. All hands-free. After a week of having my tush washed and dried automatically after doing my business, the novelty still hadn’t worn off.

But this is just too much. Who among us hasn’t done some reading – even if it’s just “Jokes for the John” – while waiting for nature to take its course? And I suppose iPod users aren’t apt to take their earplugs out just because they want to take a dump. But a television set? A computer? An X-Box? Oh, come on!

The single funniest feature is the refrigerator, thoughtfully placed next to the exercise machine, so you can replenish those calories at the same time you eliminate, er, work them off. And if you’re a beer drinker, the benefits are obvious.

“You might never want to leave your bathroom again,” the story ends. Hear, hear. However, the inventors did leave one thing out. A bed.

After all, with all those amenities at your fingertips, why should anyone have to leave the bathroom just to sleep, too?

More substantive commentary from the NYT

January 15, 2004, by No comments yet

I love writing fan letters. Here’s my latest, to that redheaded bottomfeeder in the shallow end of the press pool, Maureen Dowd:

Ms. Dowd:

Boy, you must be running out of ideas. Having finished your fashion commentary on Wesley Clark’s wardrobe, you now become an advice columnist. You begin by saying that Bush wants to become “the national yenta.” But it sounds like you wish you had the job, given your snarky and uncalled-for pronouncements on the quality of Howard Dean’s marriage and the career and physical appearance of Dr. Judith (“crunchy Vermont hippie”) Steinberg.

Who are you to pass judgement on his–or anyone’s–marriage? And sorry, your “fair and balanced” inclusion of the campaign behaviour of Dean’s competitor’s spouses doesn’t excuse you. Your phony concern for Dean’s image, complete with handwringing repeating of the comments of unnamed “political operatives,” masks a barely-concealed condescension. To say–even in jest–that the corrupt and shallow Bush or his appalling supporters on the religious right should give Dr. Dean lessons in marital behavior is beyond the pale.
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To the moon, Alice! To the moon!

January 9, 2004, by No comments yet

So it would appear that the Flightsuit-in-Chief now wants to send humans back to the moon — and then send others onward to Mars. Take that, JFK/LBJ.

The question is, on whose dime? What with an 87 billion dollar quagmire in Iraq to fund, and WMDs to find… oops, never mind that last part.
At least the Times gets the reason for this BS announcement right:

Both new policy directives would allow the president to be portrayed as an inspirational leader whose vision goes beyond terrorism and tax cuts.

They also would have the added political benefit of diverting attention from the Democratic presidential candidates trudging through the retail politics of the Iowa caucuses.

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Of jerks and knee-jerks

February 19, 2002, by No comments yet

I’ve been thinking a lot about Thomas Junta lately.

He’s the hockey dad who was recently convicted of beating another hockey dad to death in full view of a rink full of horrified kids, including his own and that of his victim, Michael Costin.

Mr. Junta is a man that some reporters described as “hulking,” a 270-pound truck driver with a jutting jaw and, by all accounts, a serious anger-management problem. Is anyone out there surprised to hear that this so-called “gentle giant” had a record of arrests for previous assaults? That Junta’s own wife had sought a restraining order after he struck her in front of their kids?

Mr. Junta described the altercation that led to Mr. Costin’s death as “a stupid guy thing” that simply got out of hand. His attorney characterized Junta’s actions as self-defense. The prosecution scoffed at this description, noting the testimony of witnesses that placed Mr. Junta at the end of the fight sitting atop Mr. Costin’s chest, slamming his opponent’s head against the concrete rink floor, while bystanders screamed at him to stop.

How does a shouting match escalate into violence and death? How could anyone lose control that completely over something so trivial?

I was mulling this over as I drove home the other day. It was snowing and it looked like it was going to be a fairly substantial accumulation. The wind whipped huge white flakes around my windshield. I was more than a little anxious; our house is at the top of a continuous two-mile incline that rapidly becomes too slick to negotiate in icy weather.
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