Oh..my..Gawd

Mr. Sulu, set phasers to kill it with fire and eliminate it from our collective memory!!!

Thud

Introducing the Thudguard, the "Infant Protective Safety Hat." When I was a kid we called these things "helmets." From their website: "Learning to walk in a world of hard surfaces can turn a special moment into a heart rendering incident in a flash. It's normal for young children to sustain bumps and bruises occasionally as part of exploring; the problem is this kind of fall is very common in even the safest of homes and gardens."

Kids fall down all the time when they're learning to walk. I did, my daughter did, hell, we all did. While the idea of a protective helmet is a novel notion, honestly, if you've properly child-proofed your home a head injury caused by falling while trying to walk isn't very likely. Other injuries are more common in these types of falls. My daughter fell asleep in my arms one more than one occasion after falling down and hurting herself, her blood on my shirt from where she bit her lip.

This is one of the most pointless inventions since Ronco's Spray-On Hair or the Shower Microphone sponge.

F the Pious

I try to maintain a laid back lifestyle and personality. I don't wear my heart or my politics or my personal beliefs on my sleeve, and I certainly don't try to ram them down someone else's throat. Live and let live; what may be okay to me may not be so for someone else. But not everyone lives by that viewpoint.

Yesterday after work I had to walk downtown to take care of some minor business, with a side agenda of perhaps taking some pictures. Once again, the sky was nothing but overcast and glare, not exactly the ideal conditions for shooting photos. It's been about 10 days since we've really seen the sun, though in a few months we'll have nothing but sun and we'll be cursing it for making things so damned hot and evaporating what water we have left in these here parts.

On my way to my car I made what I considered an outstanding textbook maneuver to avoid a homeless looking lady panhandling for money. However, karma's payback was quick and annoying. As I crossed the street another lady comes up to me.

"Good afternoon, sir. I'm Blahblahblah (I didn't catch her name). Are you aware that God loves you?"

Shit, I thought, another proletyzing Jesus krispy. These people bug me about as much as the idiots who try to sell me newspaper subscriptions or hand me coupons in case I'm interested in eating at the latest overpriced restaurant downtown which will be closed within six months.

"Well," I replied, "that's what I've been told but I don't believe it's true."

I kept walking and avoiding eye contact, hoping against hope that she'd take the clue and leave me the hell alone. She kept walking with me, and then upped the ante.

"If you died today do you think you'd go to Heaven?"

Enough of this. Time to put an end to this one-way conversation. I stopped and turned toward her.

"There is no Heaven. Our consciousness is a result of complex chemical reactions in our brains. Heaven is our brain cells and synapses misfiring as our brains die from lack of oxygen. Any questions?"

A few seconds of silence, followed by, "Thank you, sir, have a nice day."

Mission accomplished. And I went on my unholier than thou way.