Bomb Throwing Pacifist

This just in according to MSNBC's health bureau. A remarkable new study released by some comittee of platinum-guilded science toffs apparently has concluded that poor people age at an accelerated rate compared to their fat-walleted peers. This is what the article had to say:

People with lower socio-economic status appear to age faster than their better-off counterparts, British researchers said on Thursday.

They showed that the poor have shorter telomeres, the caps on chromosomes that prevent them from fraying, which makes them biologically older than people of the same age in higher social groups.

While I cannot say that I am surprised to hear that poor people's chromosones tend to be of a lower quality and more prone to catastrophic malfunction that the expensive, foreign-produced, exotically-named chromosomes of their social betters, I am just the same mystified by this observation. Perhaps there is more to this equation than first meets the eye. Perhaps our Department of Research and Photo analysis can shed some light on this matter.

Let us begin the analysis by looking at two average women, representative of their socioeconomic class. The first image is that of a woman we will call "Peggy." You will note that while she is in fact 25 years of age, she appears to be only in her late teens.


"Peggy": Rich, aged 35, looks 20

Remarkable, no? Now, let's compare that to our second example, whom we'll call "Maud." While she is only 20 years of age, she in fact appears to be in her late seventies or early eighties. She is the designated "poor person."


"Maud": Poor, aged 20, looks 82.

Now, what could possibly account for this outragious discrepancy between the appearances of these two lovely ladies (oh all right. One lovely lady and one hideous crone)? Although it is tempting to subscribe to the ideas of these fat toff scientists and their "defective chromosomes" theory, I prefer the simpler, more direct route offered by our Department of Research and Photo Analysis. In short, apparent age is determined by the presence or absence of cheap liquor in the body. Observe:

Is it Gin? Is it rum? Is it turpentine? All that can be said for sure is that the liquid contained in that cup is no doubt foul, ill-smelling, cheap, and high in alcohol content. Compared to the light, refreshing, and expensive spirits inbued with equal amounts of vigor by Peggy, it can be little surprise that Maud has aged the way she has, chromosome quality be damned!

Conclusion: Poor people look older than they are because they can drink like the pros. Unlike rich yobbos who only pretend to have a good time between hunting expeditions to the Antarctic and games of lawn tennis at their summer palace.

Such a problem requires a bold solution. My friends, we have only two choices in the matter: make rich people age faster, or make poor people stop drinking such prodigious quantities of cheap liquor. And since we all know that money is power, I say we go with option B.



This is Carrie Nation. Yes, those are a Bible and a hatchet she's carrying. She will be administrating breathalizer tests at random locations in the poorer parts of town, all weekend long.

Happy Friday to you all! Celebrate accordingly.

When it comes to the domain of public broadcasting, I will admit that my views tend to stray on the Judas Escariot side of consistency. It is not just a matter of socialist principle, you see? While I do enjoy the occasional discussion of the eschatalogical lemming theory in the context of the wave of bad teenie bop which saturated the 1990s (and was surprisingly never linked with the phenominal rise in suicide rates amongst music affictionados and diabetics), I must say that PBS does indeed have its flaws.

Chief among these is the fact that PBS claims to broadcast only through the generous donations of viewers like me. Nonsense. If the bulk of their audience (or even a large minority) was made up of viewers like me, we would spend much less time arguing about the precise number of galaxies in the known universe and would instead focus on the best pick-up lines of the week and where I could find petrol for less than $3.25 a gallon. Not to mention that its contents would single-handedly justify the existance of the FCC and send most of the membership of the Parents Television Council into hypovolaemic shock. As much as I relish the prospect of such a situation arising (especially that last bit), the fact is the matter is quite academic. Because if PBS were truely able to support itself through the contributions of viewers like me, it is because beer bottle caps are now considered to be a legitimate form of currency. And if such is the case, I have better things to spend my hard-earned beer caps on than abominable public television.

But I digress. The reason for my current distemper with the Public Broadcasting Service and its two-faced (or is it three?), one-eyed, mute yobbo of a spokesperson (see above) is this article which recently appeared on cnn.com. In part, the article reads:

The PBS Kids Sprout network has fired the host of "The Good Night Show" after learning she had appeared in videos called "Technical Virgin."

"PBS Kids Sprout has determined that the dialogue in this video is inappropriate for her role as a preschool program host and may undermine her character's credibility
with our audience," said Sandy Wax, network president.

I know what you're thinking. I feel the same way. Just when you think PBS has finally relinquished its grasp on so-called "moral decency" and get excited over the prospect that the network may now finally begin to produce the dreggy escamotage so beloved by the 18-28 age demographic, they go off and fire her on the grounds that she is no longer credible to the 0-5 demographic.

Evidentally the producers at PBS seem to think that just because an attractive young woman once appeared in a slightly risque production or two, she has lost the trustworthiness required to tell bedtime stories to mindless sprogs. It isn't this attitude which infuriates me so much- its the hypocrisy. As we all know, thumb-sucking bubtions will believe almost anything anyone tells them, no matter who. Tell them that a clown-suited, white-bearded lardy comes down their chimney to give them gifts on Christmas, and they will swallow that faster than a plastic egg on Easter.

And yet when Commander Geordi La Forge (a BLIND man, no less) goes on PBS to tell the aspiring intelligentsia of the under-12 set that rainbows will shoot out of their books and take them on magical adventures where they can pretend to be columbus, fly through space or fight dragons, and suddenly his credebility problem is no longer an issue? That, my friends, is dodgy.


Reading lets you practice dark magick!= Credible


Here's a cute bedtime story=

I loathe rednecks. There, it needed to be said, and so it has been said. I find them to be dreadfully boring, as well as being a great lot of grotty knackers. Oh, they do have their uses, I will happily grant you that. One day when the eternal war on terror (or "Terra," the Texan to English translation is not clear) is finished, we will need a readily disposable population of social undesirables with which to fill the Guantanamo Bay Gulags. They will cease to be THE nuisance species of the American South and will at the same time feel right at home in the trailer-park atmosphere of the Dear Leader's Perpetual Detention Center. Furthermore, once concentrated in a single, difficult-to-escape-from location, we will have found a safe, isolated disposal center for the hundreds of thousands of gallons of cheap American beer which would otherwise be left to rot away in highly populated areas with potentially disaterous ecological effects. But despite these benefits, when I think of the millions of Indians that were butchered and relocated simply to make room for these clonkers and their naff Stars and Stripes trucker caps (or Teddy Bear sweatshirts), I weep at the terrible injustice of mankind.

In order to further elaborate upon my point, I would like to take a few moments to share with you a recent find made by my friend and noted Archaeologist, Sir Horace Q. Cocksmedly III, O.B.E. while excavating a redneck burial mound someplace in the American Deep South. Although the document has yet to be precisely dated and catalogued, a cursory analysis of the text places it at about the mid 1990s (judging from the surrounding artifacts- several modly pizza boxes and a few dozen "Victoria's Secret" catalogues), thus making it one of the oldest surviving Redneck Ur-texts discovered to date. It is presented with my friend's gloss.

1. That farm boy you see at the gas station did more work before breakfast than you do all week at the gym.

If by work you are referring to whittling, sitting in a rocking chair, and trying to find "Sweet Home Alabama" on the AM radio, then you are correct.

2. It's called a "gravel road." No matter how slow you drive, you're going to get dust on your Lincoln Navigator. Drive it or get it out of the way!

They still have gravel roads in the South. Add that to your index along with Moon Pies, "swimmin' holes," and polio

3. The red dirt -- it's called clay. Red clay. If you like the color, don't wash your car for a couple weeks -- it'll be permanent.

Thus accounting for the term "red neck" (although purists would point out that considering the amount of clothing worn by most males of the species, "red back" would be more appropriate)

4. We all started hunting and fishing when we were seven years old. Yeah, we saw that Bambi movie, too. We got over it.

Ironically enough, 7 years of age is when most rednecks achieve sexual maturity. What can we say? At least they are the same age as their livestock when they have that first magical moment.

5. Go ahead and bring your $600 Orvis fly rod. Don't cry to us if a flathead breaks it off at the handle . We have a name for those little 13-inch trout you fish for: bait.

It is difficult to ascertain wether this conversation is taking place at the side of a pond or in the stall of a trucker's rest stop. Frankly, we'd rather not know.

6. Pull your pants up! You look like an idiot.

Coming from someone who believes that trousers should stop at the nipples and not at the natural waist, I will take that under advisement.

7 If that cell phone rings while a bunch of mallards are making their final approach, we will shoot it. You might want to ensure it's not up to your ear at the time.

Dick Cheney: presidential Redneck.

8. No, there's no "Vegetarian Special" on the menu. Order steak. Order it rare. Or, you can order the Chef's Salad and pick off the two pounds of ham and turkey.

After a few days, you will start to look like this fellow. Don't worry. Their ladies find that body type attractice (or so we are told).

9. Tea -- yeah, we have tea. It comes in a glass over ice and it's sweet. You want it hot? Set it in the sun. You want it unsweetened? Add a lot of water.

You want it a cup? Sorry, we ran out of jars.

10. You bring Coke into my house, it better be brown, wet, and served over ice!

For as we all know, methamphetamines are the true drug of the heartland.

11. You have a sixty-thousand-dollar car. We're real impressed. We have a quarter of a million-dollar combine that we only use two weeks a year.

Although the net value of their house does approach sixty-thousand dollars. Coincidentally, it also has wheels.

12. Let's get this straight. We have one stoplight in town. We stop when it's red. We may even stop when it's yellow.

That's an obvious lie. We all know that your traffic lights don't change color...all they do is flash.

13. We eat dinner together with our families. We pray before we eat--yeah, even breakfast. We go to church on Wednesdays and Sundays, and we go to high school football games on Friday nights. We still address our seniors with "yes, sir" and "yes, ma'am," and we sometimes still take Sunday drives around town to see friends and neighbors.

The food still tastes awful, we still lose the game, our semiors still draw breath, and the drive to "town" still takes 45 minutes. Hope springs eternal, though.

14. We don't do "hurry up" well.

Indeed. The calendar seems frozen in 1865.

15. Greens -- yeah, we have greens, but you don't putt on them. You boil them with salty fatback, bacon or a smoked hog jowl.

See number 8 above.

16. Yeah, we eat catfish, bass, bream, and carp. You really want sushi and caviar? It's available down at the bait shop.

Fishing's kinda slow? Drink the contents of your thermometer. It won't be as much fun as eating catfish and carp, but at least you'll be able to keep your mercury readings up.

17. They are pigs. That's what they smell like. Get over it. Don't like it?Interstate 75 goes two ways. Interstate 40 goes the other two. Pick one..

I'd love to. It might help if you got some new signs though. These are all illegible, what with the bullet holes and all.

18. Grits are corn. You put butter, salt, and maybe even some pepper on them. If you want to put milk and sugar on them, then you want cream of wheat -- go to Kansas. That would be I-40 West (after travelin' a bit north).

In Europe, we call it gruel. It was the original peasant food, est. 875 A.D.

19. The "Opener" refers to the first day of deer season or dove season Both are holidays. You can get pancakes, cane syrup, and sausage before daylight at the church on either day.

Because nothing says "great outdoor adventure" like several score of hight-challenged lardies wolfing down the entire caloric intake of a small African country in a single sitting.

20. So every person in every pickup truck waves? Yeah, it's called being friendly. Understand the concept?

We call it dodgy. The only people who are supposed to have at motorists are your immediate family and the metropolitan police. But it's ok, we're big lads. We won't cry if a complete and utter narf of a stranger doesn't wave at us while speeding past on the motorway. That's what our horn is for.

21. Yeah, we have golf courses. Don't hit in the water hazards. It spooks the fish and bothers the gators --and, if you hit it in the rough, we have these things called diamondbacks, and they're not baseball players.

Golf was invented by Scotsmen. All that does it make it more challenging.

22. That Highway Patrol Officer that just pulled you over for driving like an idiot --his name is "Sir," no matter how young he is.

Unless your name is foreign-sounding or you are somewhat less than the ideal skin tone. In which case, speak when you are spoken to and pretend not to notice the "Rebel Pride" tattoo.

23. We have lots of pine trees. They have sap. It drips from them. You park your darn Navigator under them, and they'll leave a souvenir on your hood.

I had no idea spitting was a custom amongst your botanical inhabitants as well. Duly noted.

24. You burn an American flag in our state, you get beat up. No questions.

Though if you want to burn other things, like tires, leaves, rural churches and the like...well, you get the picture.

That is all. You may now go on about your business.

Today's column is so howlingly bad that it caused a rupture in the space-time continuum which allowed Yaldabaoth the octopus god to come within a hair's breath of crossing into our dimension and ending reality as we know it. Fortunately, we had a lot of duct tape. And Professor MacGillcuddly's prototype portable black hole generator. However, while duct tape is in and of itself proof of God's existance and eternal love for us, the black hole generator's engineering still has some kinks and as such the gravity well was as not as perfect as I'd have liked. I fear some residual abnomalities in our current realities may persist. Reader discretion is advised.

The poor fellow was sputtering, backing up, straining for justifications without straying from the corral of leftist, "peace process" categories of thought and slogans that sandbag Israel every time. He painted himself into a corner.

As I listened to the nasty and predictable exchange I thought, rubbish and damnation! No need to apologize to anyone, least of all a Brit when discussing collateral damage during war – and war is what jihadists have been doing to Jews for six years, shooting rockets within the borders of pre-1967 Israel.

(Actually, the war – jihad – is approaching 14 centuries, but let's stick to the narrow definition for now.)

No need to review the evidence that the so-called "Palestinians" are a hostile population that plots to murder Jews in Israel (and elsewhere) and frequently asserts its intention of annihilating it.

These all are declarations of war, and during war a hostile population is subject to attack; their death, whether unintended or even targeted, is legal part of the rules.

If you don't want to get killed, don't war on other people. Don't shoot rockets across the border into their towns; don't kidnap and murder their children; don't send homicide bombers into their eating places and busses.

Taken from MSNBC's Jaqueline Stenson.

Q: I have fat knees. What can I do to shape them up?

Madam, if you are the sort of person prone to believe that you have knees that are fat, it may in fact surprise you to no end to learn that those two lumpy bulges in the center of your legs are not, in fact, wads of fat but rather your kneecaps: rather imporant osscified deposits which are required for such useful activities are walking to the bathroom, running to catch a flight, and fleeing from predators.

Honestly, such questions never cease to amaze me. I for one would be absolutely petrified of asking such a ridiculous question, not only due to the fact that it displays your absolutely disturbing sense of vanity, but also because you run the risk of having equally stupid people going around laughing at you for being a gristle-joined lardy. Although it is difficult to describe the emotions which course through me when I encounter such brazen stupidity, I will say this: the last time I was this angry, the quarrel was resolved with a drunken midnight duel in a forrest clearing with polo mallets. Needless to say, I won. Also needless to say, knees also figured prominently in that mallet-swinging fight to the death.

While I am afraid that I cannot offer any practical advice on how to change the shape of your knees, I can however, recommend that you take a look at the following series of WWII photographs. They wil not shape up or help you tone your knees. They will, however, make you feel a good deal better about your own body. Cheers!

Today's column comes to us from BTP virgin Thomas Sowell. In it, he wonders what has become of the patriotism which once so united the United States of America, and wonders if people have stopped caring. More observant readers would be well advised to question Mr. Sowell's own patriotism, considering the fact that this column did not appear until the 7th of July, three days after our very own national holiday. Evidentally, Mr. Sowell the uber-patriot has better things to do on the 4th of July than spend his time writing columns decrying our nation's lack of patriotism. Either that or he was hungover and wasn't able to sober up in time to hit the "send" button in his e-mail account in time to make the 7/4/06 deadline (or the 7/5/06 deadline, or the 7/6/06 deadline). Take it away, Thos!

Is Patriotism Obsolete?

By Thomas Sowell

Friday, July 7, 2006

On the eve of a holiday that used to stir patriotic emotions -- the Fourth of July -- it has been painful to see examples of how little remains of that glue that holds a society together.

I couldn't agree more. When I was a kid, the pounds of cotton candy we consumed on the 4th were cooked up in such a way so as to ensure that the heat from the fireworks and the July sun would literally fuse us together in one happy, friendly, sticky glob- but we were patriotic damnit!

Perhaps the worst of these signs of national disintegration was the New York Times' recent revealing to the whole world the covert methods by which the American government has been tracking the money that finances international terrorism.

I couldn't agree more. As that great terrorist appeasnik, Osama Ben Franklin once said, "There is no action more cowardly and unpatriotic than questioning the actions of your own government."

The usual excuses about "the public's right to know" ring even more hollow than usual in this case. Just so!

The public's right to know should be restricted to what their semi-elected and plutocraticoverlords wish to tell them. Anything else is just plain dangerous! The public was not dying to know the methods by which their lives were being safeguarded.

Only the terrorists were helped by these revelations. Americans may in fact be dying literally now because of what the terrorists have been told -- and ultimately because a jerk inherited the New York Times. As usual, the mainstream media circled the wagons around one of their own. The media spin is that the terrorists were already bound to know that we were monitoring their international transfers of money. The Times says terrorists had to "suspect" this.

Well presumably, if these terrorists are so stupid as to think the U.S. government and various international agencies are not monitoring their financial transactions, then they should be rated at the same threat level as those terrorists who have yet to master tying their own shoelaces or figuring out which end of the gun faces the enemy.

This is an all-or-nothing argument. There are vast numbers of terrorists around the world and not all of them are affiliated with the same organizations. Nor is there any reason to believe that they all have the same level of knowledge or sophistication.

Whatever knowledge or suspicions some of the terrorist leaders may have had about American surveillance of the money transfers that finance their operations, that does not mean that all the terrorists knew about all the methods or about all the countries that were cooperating to track them down by their money trails.

And, perhaps unsurprisingly, THEY STILL DON'T. Want to know why? Because "all the methods" and "all the countries" and all the other specific details in the article which supposedly ruined this program for the administration basically boil down to this: the CIA has been monitoring and searching the databases of financial groups which track various funds transfers, while paying particular attention to those involving Saudi Arabia and the UER. Or, in simpler terms...Yankees analizing bank accounts to find suspected terrorists. Or as Bush himself said "The 9/11 Commission recommended that the government be robust in tracing money. If you want to figure out what the terrorists are doing, you try to follow their money. And that's exactly what we're doing. "

After all, so many of these terrorists would not have been captured or killed if they were infallible.

So presumably, because these terrorists are not omniescent, those who survived were only able to do so because they read various NYT articles with headlines like "Coalition Forces launch new Raids," and "68 Terrorists killed outside Karbala," yes? Perhaps you've got something thre, Thos. If we were to impose a complete media blackout on everything having to do with Iraq, the "terrorists" would suddenly forget that there are people out there trying to kill them and the whole insurgency would come screeching to a halt in a matter of days. Idiot.

Not only do the terrorists now know how they are being tracked, some of the countries that have secretly helped in that tracking may now back off from helping, now that the New York Times' revelations can create internal political problems or fear of terrorist retaliation in those countries.

What countries? The only country I read about in the article was Belgium, and even then it was in the context of the location of the data tracking firm. That and the fact that Saudi Arabian and UER transfers were undergoing considerable scrutiny. In either case, it's not like the terrorists can do much about it anyway, is it? Saudi Arabia and the UER have no say in wether or not bank transfers involving those countries are monitored, and the company in Belgium is private. So much for your grand theory.

The all-or-nothing idea that secrets are either secret from everybody or secret from nobody will not stand up under scrutiny.

Of course it won't. That's why we liberals aren't making that arguement. It's a retarded strawman of an statement so blantant that we can smell them coming from miles away.

New York Times has spread the secret of American financial surveillance of terrorists around the world, undermining or destroying this method of tracking them, as well as undermining the cooperation that can be expected in the future from countries fearful of political or terrorist repercussions.

Once again, that's a lame arguement because for all intents and purposes, NO COOPERATING COUNTRIES ARE NAMED. Looks like someone didn't do the assigned reading, Thos. From now on, any time Thomas Sowell wishes to delve into the accusation that the NYT is responsible for aiding and abetting the enemy in a time of war, he must make a solemn oath to read the offending article first. But this is getting old. Let's skip to the end.

Patriotism is not chic in the circles of those who assume the role of citizens of the world, whether they are discussing immigration or giving aid and comfort to the enemy in wartime.

The decline and fall of the Roman Empire was as much due to the internal disintegration of the ties that bind a society together as to the assaults of the Romans' external enemies.The pride of being a Roman citizen was destroyed by cheapening that citizenship by giving it to too many other people. The sense of duty and loyalty eroded among both the elites and the masses.

Well, not to mention the fact that from about 180 A.D. onwards they were ruled by a succession of hedonistic, untalented, turnipheads drunk off the idea of Imperial Glory but at the same time woefully militarily incompetent. Now, while there are a whole multitude of theories as to why the Roman Empire fell, we all know that it is hard enough to get Thomas to read a 3500-word essay in the NYT. Therefore, I will simply summarize the Wikipedia's entry below (links by me). Draw from it what conclusions you may.

Bryan Ward-Perkins' The Fall of Rome and the End of Civilization (2005) makes the more traditional and nuanced argument that the empire's demise was brought about through a vicious cycle of political instability, foreign invasion, and reduced tax revenue. Essentially, invasions caused long-term damage to the provincial tax base, which lessened the Empire's medium to long-term ability to pay and equip the legions, with predictable results. Likewise, constant invasions encouraged provincial rebellion as self-help -- further depleting Imperial resources.

For a soccer match. Today, le Bleus will be taking on the Spanish national team in what can only be an exciting rematch of the 1808 Seige of Saragossa, with Zidane playing the role of Marshal Jean Lannes. The dastardly Spaniards are reminded that while Goya was indeed a great artist, he would never have risen to such international fame were it not for the continual stream of executions and firing squads happily provided them by their French overlords. Details to follow...

EDIT: Careful readers have informed us that the French are not in fact playing Spain this afternoon, but are rather facing their Arch-nemesis and conveniently identical twin, Portugal. Those responsible for the inexcusable mix-up have been punished accordingly. However, we do justify our mistake on the groups of faulty intelligence, as you can no doubt see, according to our most recent satellite Scans of the Iberian Peninsula:

As usual, another attempt on the part of those shifty Latins to make this entirely Gallic and francophilic blog look uneducated and ill-informed has been safely foiled. I credit the spirit of Joan of Arc for helping us through these difficult times at Bomb-Throwing Pacifist.

EDIT II: Even more observant readers have pointed out that while the Portuguese, Italians, and Spanish all earn top marks for the sneaky Latin factor, it turns out that the French are also a Latin people. While I contemplated giving our research and analysis bureau here at BTP another thorough thrashing for getting my facts wrong, I have decided to relent. Us Frenchies may be partially Latin, it's true. However, we took the sensible route and invited the Vikings to settle down with us and colonize England. Fat lot of good it did us too. But at least we are not (well-mostly not) Latin!

It's been a while since a nice, long, in-depth post here at BTP (kinky!). However, while I was going to post several of the more interesting spoors plopped out by third-rate wingnuts last week, I found that I would get halfway into a dissection before a strange sense of hopelessness settled ove rme. "Oh sure, Marc" I would say, wiping the blood for yet another Marie Jon' column off of my surgical instuments and turning off the lights. "Sure, this coulm-analysis stuff is funny, but still, there's something wrong. After all, no matter how unintentionally funny and ridiculous the next wingnut column to cross my desk will be, there is still no escaping one crucial fact: France is going to lose to Brazil on Saturday). Well, now that we know how that one played out, the cloud is lifted. All right wingnuts, prepare to taste pure, unadulterated Gallic wrath on a scale which you have never before experienced.

Today's column is from our young friend Christian Hartsock (20/m/probably bi-curious), who will be lecturing us on the horrors of non-marital sex in the latter 20th and early 21st centuries. Take it away, Christian!

Liberals are like babies. They are. You give a baby a beautiful, shining glass vase and he'll smash it on the floor. In the same way, God gave us marriage and sex and liberals have ruined both of those too.

Well, ideally the baby's initial reaction would be to smash the glass vase over Mr. Hartsock's head and then stab him in the face with the remaining shards of glass, I imagine that in a pinch the floor would provide an equally dense surface on which the baby could take out his or her aggression. As to God giving us marriage and sex, I'm not sure who the best man at Adam and Eve's wedding ceremony was, but I'd love to know what happened to mankind's penile bone on the wedding night. Perhaps that was the missing rib that God took when He created Eve?

In the 1950s, marriage was something women looked forward to, so much that they married at ages like 19 and 20.

It should also be noted that following this trend even further back in time, the people lving in the middle ages often married off their daughters as young as 16, and the Ancient Greeks were so excited at the prospect of getting married that they often married off their daughters at age 13. I blame the intrusion of liberal Christianity for this decided tapering off of enthusiasm insofar as marriage age is concerned.

As far as the 1950s are concerned, you know, it's not like there was any stigma attatched to being an unmarried young adult woman at the time (*cough cough* It's a Wonderful Life *cough* Old Maid Mary the libarian *cough*). That and the alternative was the glamourous and stress-free job taking dictation and making coffee for some old dude in an office building somewhere.

Part of the reason [women looked forward to marriage] was because they were actually waiting until marriage to have sex, unlike liberals, who encourage young teenagers to lick condoms and show their "orgasm faces" in front of a camera during mandatory "AIDS Awareness" presentations.

Dude, you had a mandatory Aids Awareness presentation which included showing people your "O" face? Freakin' awesome!! Was the new chick from logistics there? And out of curiosity, the instructor's name didn't happen to be Drew, by any chance now, was it?

O! O! You know what I'm talking about? O!

To a woman, a man interested in commitment was the biggest turn-on. It was commitment that young women longed for. In fact, for generations since, the stereotype has been that women long for commitment while men have at least fourteen one-night-stands to get out of their system before they even consider settling down with a woman.

Because if history has taught us anything, there is a no more reliable and effective way of measuring historical trends than by analizing modern stereotypes.

(And even after they're married if they find another one buried deep under the cushions, oh well! A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.)

I myself am also very intrigued by the meaning of this sentance. I wonder what kind of sofa it would take in order to get Christian to "do what a man's gotta do".

Leather and zebraskin. Oh baby...

But not anymore. Today women are afraid of commitment. While they may have a soft spot for songs with lyrics like "If you leave me now, you'll take away the biggest part of me" or "Michelle...I need you, I need you, I need you...," if you yourself utter those words to a woman, she will accuse you of "overwhelming" or "suffocating" her and will immediately dash to open the nearest window and gasp for breath.

Christian, baby, if you honestly said such things to a woman out loud and experienced that reaction, she probably wasn't gasping for breath at the window, bud. Those were dry heaves.

This is what feminism has done to women. It has demonized marriage, it has demolished prudence, and it has denigrated the concept of commitment. The only types of marriages liberals like are ones that involve male-on-male sodomy or lesbian fisting.

I can't begin to count the number of times I have been approached by feminists and told that I should go out and seek some hot male-on-male action. Makes you wonder exactly how much "research" Christian had to put into this column before considering fit to print (and whether he actually did his own research, or cribbed Ben Shapiro's notes, Ben Domenech style).

Aside from seeing it as a form of chauvinistic slavery, liberals see marriage as a commitment in the same way they see talking to someone on the subway as a commitment. Remember when first base was asking a girl out, second base was kissing her, and third base was a relationship?

Well, if by "relationship" you mean getting to "know" someone in the biblical sense of the word, then yeah, that seems to summarize my experience of the late 90's pretty well.

Well now, first base is having sex, second base is getting married, and third base is leaving your spouse for Angelina Jolie.

If only. Don't worry Angelina, baby! I'll always love you, no matter what my harpy wife may say!

If liberals only knew what they were missing out on with their hedonism and their debauchery and their insistence on fornicating with every fish in the sea before they do the whole "marriage" thing, they would realize that it is devout Christians who are having the best sex right now out of anyone on the planet.

Yeah! If only liberals would take a few minutes to stop having sex with damn near every member of the opposite gender and getting all that carnal experience, then they would realize that the true key to happiness is having a single, monogamous partner for life. That way, when your standards are so low, the monthly quickie feels that much more special. And that, folks, is a wrap.