movies

Something I've just noticed in the last few weeks: there are lots of full-length feature films on YouTube now, doubtlessly illegally. Some of them are awesome:



Some of them are stupid:



O Brother, Where Art Thou? has been there for a while, but I'm not sure how long they last in general.

hey buddy

Woof Blitzer

Wouldn't a professional reporter/interview guy, just by standing around, pick up enough to at least look competent at Jeopardy!?

Metal Monday

In other news, the scariest bridge in the world kinda collapsed.

back in town

did you even notice I was gone, internet?

Furious fat fabulous fantastic

I bet I've posted this before, but I'm not willing to look it up.

the resemblance is uncanny

Like a freak show image of our noble captain


Beavis and Butthead

Patriotic marketing gimmicks

Various people had their hands on it, adding as little as a word or two, but the credit for the bulk of the pledge goes to Francis Julius Bellamy (May 18, 1855 – August 28, 1931), a Baptist minister from New York. Bellamy had some interesting political ideas — he was a Christian Socialist who believed in the equal distribution of economic resources in accordance with the teachings of Jesus, but not the distribution of voting rights to women or immigrants.

By 1891, Bellamy was tired of his ministry and accepted a job from one of his congregants, Daniel S. Ford, owner and editor of Youth’s Companion, a nationally circulated magazine for adolescents. Bellamy was hired to help out the magazine’s premium department, where he worked on a campaign to sell American flags to public schools as a way to solicit subscriptions. By the end of the year, the magazine had sold flags to some 26,000 schools. But there were still more than a few holdouts.

Who Wrote the Pledge of Allegiance?

presented without commentary or anything else, really.

http://www.imdb.com/video/wab/vi1419813145/

a little more than halfway though, so what have we learned?

"The coldest gaze is that which you cast upon yourself" - Dr. Trent Stone

Well, I've learned that my searing passion for Michael Bolton led me to immensely overvalue Bolton Wanderers. And common sense led me to immensely undervalue Norwich and Swansea. Other than that, it's not that far off. This is how I gain your trust.

vegetable orchestra

it only goes up to august, but...

@dadboner

robot fish

best YouTube comment:

"I COMMAND YOU IN THE NAME OF THE DARK LORD TO SPILL THE BLOOD OF THE INNOCENT....

...diddy dum diddy dooo"

Under water

Fishing under ice

whistle

Whistling is a funny skill: folks who can whistle, wonder how anyone could have a problem with it. Folks who can't, wonder how anyone could ever produce such a sound. For those of you who can't, consider learning--a quick, loud, penetrating whistle has many useful applications and can be mastered with relative ease. (Note: there's nothing here on whistling Dixie or any other tuneful amusement.)

How to whistle loudly

sums it all up

this is a dream i had the other night

today

I speak for all of 3E today

Tuesdays with John

John stumbles forward through the restaurant. He is walking towards a stage upon which sits a small video screen, a microphone, and a large grey box with a keyboard and speaker in the front. He ascends the stage and opens a large blue binder. He flips rapidly through the songbook. He is barefoot and wearing a University of Alaska sweatshirt over what appears to be a youth karate uniform. His eyes are red and bleary -- he has not slept in two days, in preparation for what is to come.

His eyes finally light upon the page he is searching for, and John smiles a small smile. He punches into the keyboard three numerals, and the screen above it responds. Text appears over the background image of a small stream running through an autumnal forest: "486 - ARTIST: SHANIA TWAIN - SONG SELECTION: MAN! I FEEL LIKE A WOMAN!"

The machine begins to produce synthesized, beeping sounds. John holds the microphone up to his mouth, lips parted slightly before he begins. His mouth is dry, but he knows he must only sing for a short while. Outside a dog howls, and a baby begins to cry.

who refuses to subdue to these pelvic ostentations

A partial list of the words you can't get on personalized jerseys from the NFL

To celebrate the playoffs or something

666
3RD EYE
3RD LEG
3RDEYE
3RDLEG
AXING THE WEASEL
BARF FACE
BEASTALITY
BEASTIALITY
BREASTMAN
COCK NOB
DEAP THROAT
GAY MUTHA FUCKIN QUEER
GONZAGAS
HERSHY HIGH WAY
INSEST
JAPCRAP
MASTABATER
NEON DEON
POCKET POOL
RAE CARRUTH
SHAWTYPIMP
SPERM HEARDER
UPSKIRT

NFL's 1,159 Naughty Words

it ain't ar-kansas...

Friday links: four for wes edition

1. Worldmap

2. Horse eComics

3. Louis vs Rick

4. Alien Autopsy

Doctors and death

It’s not a frequent topic of discussion, but doctors die, too. And they don’t die like the rest of us. What’s unusual about them is not how much treatment they get compared to most Americans, but how little. For all the time they spend fending off the deaths of others, they tend to be fairly serene when faced with death themselves. They know exactly what is going to happen, they know the choices, and they generally have access to any sort of medical care they could want. But they go gently.

Of course, doctors don’t want to die; they want to live. But they know enough about modern medicine to know its limits. And they know enough about death to know what all people fear most: dying in pain, and dying alone. They’ve talked about this with their families. They want to be sure, when the time comes, that no heroic measures will happen—that they will never experience, during their last moments on earth, someone breaking their ribs in an attempt to resuscitate them with CPR (that’s what happens if CPR is done right).

Almost all medical professionals have seen what we call “futile care” being performed on people. That’s when doctors bring the cutting edge of technology to bear on a grievously ill person near the end of life. The patient will get cut open, perforated with tubes, hooked up to machines, and assaulted with drugs. All of this occurs in the Intensive Care Unit at a cost of tens of thousands of dollars a day. What it buys is misery we would not inflict on a terrorist. I cannot count the number of times fellow physicians have told me, in words that vary only slightly, “Promise me if you find me like this that you’ll kill me.” They mean it. Some medical personnel wear medallions stamped “NO CODE” to tell physicians not to perform CPR on them. I have even seen it as a tattoo.

How Doctors Die

3E's New Year's Resolutions

Live our lives as if this song were always playing in the background

Time to get back to regular posting schedules

Or maybe not, we'll see.

SERIOUSLY, VEGASBOT...

WHY DID YOU SUCK THAT ONE YEAR?

VEGASBOT: 18 - 5
CHARLESBOT: 14 - 9
CAPTAINBOT: 13 - 10

bwahaahahappy new year