The black night of Communism
Via satellite. (more…)
Via satellite. (more…)
We now recover its artifacts from the ocean floor like some long lost exotic culture, like amphorae from the Mediterranean, like crusted Spanish doubloons from the wreck of a galleon–one with Nineveh and Tyre.
I wonder if these kinds of things, asteroids and comets, are what the Book of Mormon refers to as signs in the heavens.
This feller reckons an unnatcheral concern for the preservation of an astrynaut’s hide plants ‘em by the thousands yearly thar in Boot Hill.
With all doo respeck for the gent, I am ‘bliged to differ. The preservation of astrynaut’s hide ain’t got nothing to do with it. These hyere safety measures are just part of the natcheral camouflage of a type o’ varmint called a bureycrat.
Goldurn it, li’l gal, git er done. You kin do it, yer a peach.
Digital clocks tell you the time. Analogue clocks suggest it.
– Thus James Lileks.
I reckon as I’m guine to have to stop spittin’ in the ginrul direction of that there lunar orb, to avoid the inevitable consarquence of perplexifyin’ scientist fellers.
Journalists are known for getting things wrong whenever the subject is something outside of their area of expertise, i.e., anything other than journalism. (And even then I don’t trust them.) Recent media coverage of semi-automatic rifles and meteors illustrates this.
It’s a meteoroid when it’s in space.
It’s a meteor as it passes through the Earth’s atmosphere creating a streak of light and shedding glowing material in its wake.
It’s a meterorite after it hits the ground.
If’n only they allows cookfires, this hyere is the space shack my lunar cattle operation has been needin’.
Dadblame settlers, always tryin’ to fence me out.
Round about noon, you fellers better hunker down. Some of the boys reckon to be shootin’ up the town.