I have an opinion on the royal child.

Royals, I am disappointed in you for not using your wealth and influence to to craft a genetically modified heir.  Like lizard eyes or telekinesis or wings or something.

Like, if you took the child to the palace balcony, held him aloft over the masses all Lion King and shit, and fire began lance out of his eyes at anyone who dared to look directly at him, that can go on the news.  As it stands, it’s just another shitting, squalling infant. Those are everywhere.

Your family keeps appearing in channels I go to for actual news. I sought no knowledge about your baby, that knowledge was inflicted on me. If I have to know about this shit, I feel that I am owed entertainment value commensurate with the attention drop required to power your sense of self worth.

And don’t act like I have suggested something horrible. “Keeping the bloodline pure” was still genetic engineering, even if it was just code for “my cousins are hot”.

I am not entitled to my opinion.


The salient point of the article:

If “Everyone’s entitled to their opinion” just means no-one has the right to stop people thinking and saying whatever they want, then the statement is true, but fairly trivial. No one can stop you saying that vaccines cause autism, no matter how many times that claim has been disproven.

But if ‘entitled to an opinion’ means ‘entitled to have your views treated as serious candidates for the truth’ then it’s pretty clearly false. And this too is a distinction that tends to get blurred.

If I express an idea in a public forum, I am not entitled to have my idea go unchallenged. If I expect this, I am the one who is actually trying to censor people.

I would also be kind of missing the whole point of a public forum. If I hold an opinion on something strongly enough to state it publicly, then I ought to at least have a handful of arguments at the ready to support it. If I do not, it suggests that I have only given my ideas superficial consideration. If I am only willing to give my ideas superficial consideration, then I should not become petulant when someone presents sound arguments for which I have no defense.

Challenging my ideas is not censorship. Neither is it a personal attack to question my reasoning. It only feels like an attack when I have developed an emotional attachment to my ideas – when I have incorporated them into my concept of self.

My Utterly Justifiable Outrage

This shower puff was of substandard quality.


I can’t believe this product was actually shipped. I stepped into my shower ready to begin my day by washing with a ball of wadded mesh. But apparently that is to much for me to expect of this world. Didn’t anyone involved in the creation or sale of this thing give a moment of thought to me or what MY day was going to be like after dealing with this bullshit?

I should find the person responsible for these things and drive my car into their living room so they know what it feels like to wake up to disappointment.

Where are the three seashells?

This might be the most ridiculous thing ever.

I know I’ll sleep better knowing that the wealthy relieve themselves in total comfort. On a balcony, apparently. And why not? Because if you’re the sort of asshole that buys a $6400 toilet, you are probably the sort of asshole that thinks you are being benevolent by allowing the plebs to witness your morning shit.

At least the money isn’t going to social programs.

Oh hey, did you know they made Atlas Shrugged into a movie?


The birth of religion on our Minecraft server:

Yes, I know it’s backward.

Why is skyface so very disappointed? Perhaps it is our frivolous use of resources. Perhaps it is because we started beating each other to death with handfuls of dirt the very moment we logged into a shared server. Perhaps it is because of the donggarden.

You know what, I bet it is the dongs. I feel like most gods are represented as being pretty solidly anti-dong. Unless that’s what they happen to be the god of, I guess. Then it probably wouldn’t be all that upsetting.


A challenger appears!

Operation: Iroquoi Freedom

Which is to say, Happy Thanksgiving! It’s 5 A.M. and I’m still sort of too full to sleep. I have done this American tradition proud.

Holidays usually don’t mean much more to me than enjoying the company of friends and family and enjoying obscene amounts of food. I do not mean to minimize rituals I’ve embraced, I just recognize that getting drunk on poultry and watching Mystery Science Theater 3000 might appear to miss the point of the occasion. The particulars of any given holiday typically don’t concern me beyond what I recall observing in my childhood. Even then I’m probably just enjoying all the nostalgia chemicals.

However, I would like to take a moment to appreciate the truly balls-out way that we celebrate conquering the land on which this nation was built. In a gesture rife with symbolism, I feed the heart and liver of the turkey to my little dog. It’s how he steals the turkey’s power.

He also enjoys the end of the day ritual wherein I tear down the main bird structure and occasionally flick scraps his way. As I toss him chunks of offal that I only deign to touch in order to retrieve the surrounding meat, he gazes up at me like i am his best friend. It shows what a special bond we have. It also shows that I am not above attempting to buy love.

Since I probably fed him a good two cups or so of grease and meat(ish) substances, he is now stretched out next to me, occasionally grunting like an old man trying to rise from a chair. Call me an irresponsible pet owner, but if we can wreck our bodies in celebration of our bountiful spoils, I see no reason why he shouldn’t as well. Besides, I’ve already decided to tell myself that all that fat will really help promote a shiny coat.

Happy Thanksgiving buddy, your cup runneth over. With fatty skin.

My car got mugged.

Saturday afternoon I walked outside and discovered my car sitting amidst the glittering confetti of its own busted window. Apparently someone saw that I had a couple of phone chargers and an auxiliary cable plugged into the dash and simply couldn’t resist such a bounty.

I console myself with the knowledge that the cracked out fuckwit that stole my stuff was probably unable to sell it for much, and still had to blow some dude in an alley to support his habit. Fingers crossed that he also had to to endure the ordeal with a bunch of safety glass embedded in hands.

PETA dislikes being taken seriously.

No, really – go look at this bullshit

I can only express my awe and respect at the wholehearted commitment to utter lack of credibility. Bravo guys. Way to whittle away support you might of had in preventing legitimate cruelty to animals by making this tripe your public face. Now I want so badly to distance myself from anything associated with you that I have to go stand outside and grill up some panda or otter or something. I live in Ohio and it’s the middle of January, you inconsiderate pricks.

You can create your own sea kitten on their site, to help raise awareness of the plight of fictional beasts. Here’s mine:

When I saw the option to make one of these, I thought the most offensive thing would be sticking fur and ears on a fish in an attempt to fashion it into an image that triggers a sympathetic human response. That was until I saw that you also have the option to give it a bowl of water and inflatable water wings. Oh, and there’s also a tube of lipstick to test on it.

I added the horn, because a Narwhal wouldn’t put up with such absurdity, and neither should you.