Multiple news sources have reported on a two-year microbiology study out of Rutgers University (Is the five-second rule real?). The upshot is: Yes, of course it’s not real.
What strikes me is that anyone actually thought it was real. We (meaning pretty much everyone I ever associated with) always understood it as a bit of obvious irony, a self-serving excuse for eating fallen food. If asked, I would have said one would have to be a real idiot to think it was real.
Well,… can’t say I’m surprised.
The current election cycle in the USA has forced me to realize that people are even stupider than I always thought. Truly, deeply, and probably irredeemably, deliberately stupid to their core.
And, by all accounts, pretty damn proud of it.
This election cycle has fueled my long disdain to a bitter and abiding hatred for the human race. Homo sapiens sapiens… a double-sap indeed.
Somehow, in our search to be an egalitarian society, we’ve managed to create a false equivalency with regard to people’s opinions. Certainly everyone is entitled to their own, but somewhere along the line we stopped recognizing stupid opinions from non-stupid ones and allowed them to persist unchallenged.
Essentially, society has been sucked down to its lowest common denominator. As a society we’ve come to accept crassness and vulgarity and all manner of childish — no, infantile — bullshit from supposed adults.
The only thing Hillary got wrong was in saying it was half. It’s more. Just about any poll shows this.
His supporters really do believe in deplorable things. (And isn’t that the definition of a deplorable person?)
Churchill supposedly said that, “The best argument against democracy is a five-minute conversation with the average voter.”
He didn’t, though. (He was actually pretty big on the whole democracy thing.) The quote first shows up in a USENET post from 1992 as attributed to him. But you can certainly understand the sentiment of the person who did come up with it.
Way back in 1992.
Colin Dickey, in New Republic, as an interesting article about a new James Gleick book (Time Travel) examining time travel in science and science fiction (The Foolish Errand of Time Travel, September 19).
The article is definitely worth reading for any fan of time travel or science fiction, and it sounds like the Gleick book could be interesting.
One interesting note: Time travel in fiction really doesn’t show up until the Industrial Revolution.
Until then there was a timeless quality to life that tended to conflate past, present, and future. But as human progress really took off (thanks to, um, science and rational thought!) there began to be more differentiation between past, present, and — most especially — the future.
We began to wonder and speculate what the future might hold given all the neat things the present turned up (presents, indeed).
But what really caught my eye was this:
[Gleick’s] third book, Faster (1999) was, well, faster — offering a series of vignettes that slammed the reader in rapid-fire succession, enumerating a thousand different ways in which modern life has sped up time in the futile promise that we might “save” it. Time-saving conveniences, he argues, are a false messiah, the byproducts of a delusion that pushes us to consume at an ever-faster rate without offering much by way of meaningful benefit.
Dickey found the same thing about Faster and closes with this paragraph:
Reading Faster now, seventeen years after it was first published, is a dystopian exercise: Gleick, lamenting how mindlessly sped up our world was then, had no inkling yet of smartphones, of Twitter and Snapchat, of the nightmarish acceleration that has only continued without signs of abating. Consumerism demands a perpetual restlessness, an unslakable thirst, a steady anxiety that drives us at greater and greater speeds. Time Travel, by contrast, comes across as something of an antidote: a reminder of the way that one of literature’s great powers is to remind us that this might be the best of all possible worlds, and that we are here because we could be nowhere else.
On all counts, yeah.
Try to stay sane, my friends!