Technically, of course, all of us must die: it's apparently hard-coded into the genome, and Genesis tells us that basically we brought it on ourselves. (Not believing in Genesis, incidentally, changes your life expectancy not one whit.) There are a number of people, not all of them known by name, who in my view have earned an early — preferably immediate — exit from this sphere, and who presumably will be dealt with accordingly in the next.

In case you hadn't noticed, spoofing Caller ID is now more or less illegal: Senate Bill 30 in the 111th Congress — text of enrolled version here — passed both houses and was signed into law by the President in December. Not that you'd notice it, four months after the fact. Saturday, for instance, while I was out doing something constructive, a call came in identified only as "PENNSYLVANIA," from 724-247-3088. Now obviously the State of Pennsylvania has no reason to call me, so I sent the number up to one of the nuisance-call trackers, and discovered the following:

[T]his is another number from Mike Huckabee wanting to add your name to a list of people for repealling Obama Care. Number is different than the one I answered yesterday where if you listen to it, it repeats the line "if you want to be added, press 1, twice, but then third line is you don't want to be added, press 2. It then immediately hangs up on you.

Now I happen to think that repealing ObamaCare is a fine idea, but I don't need that huckster Huckabee to put my name on a list, especially since it's perfectly obvious what will happen if I give him my name. Whoever taught his campaign staff how to do this — and, by extension, anybody who's selling products to implement this sort of thing — needs to be roasted on an open fire, chestnuts and all.

Not all superfluous individuals need to be dispatched with this much, um, dispatch; a substantial number of them will eventually do themselves in. An example of same, from Yahoo! Answers:

I want to damage my 150cc engine to claim warranty because of very low mileage how to do it without getting ca[ught]?

Mr. Darwin, line two, please. You just know this dimbulb is going to disconnect something and then hurl himself (at a lowish speed, this being only a 150cc vehicle) into a bridge abutment. I find it difficult to mourn the passing of someone like this, especially if it's before he has a chance to pass on his brain defects to another generation.

In fact, small-time grifters of most sorts might as well be sent to the shredder: whatever dubious benefits may derive from their existence are more than offset by their persistent dishonesty. (Big-time grifters, of course, are deemed Too Big To Fail: Bernie Madoff will be getting health care from the taxpayers for a period not to exceed 150 years.)

And finally, whoever it was who lobbed the incendiary device at Trini's house the other day — a plastic water bottle, incidentally, makes a pretty poor Molotov — needs to be drawn and quartered. Then eighthed and sixteenthed.

The Vent

#721
  18 April 2011

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