Ok, statistics class was 28 years ago....and I was pretty high by midnight. We both made mistakes...i still say that blaze chart is bullshit and intentionally misleading in multiple ways.

How many years before a 50% chance of cancer...heart disease, death by stairs...etc. We don't assess things that way, so it's just a nice big number to trot out and pretend it's meaningful.

Statistics can be used to prove anything, forfty percent of all people know that.

What if you put them all together, including suicide and accident, instead of starting by dividing into various gun death categories then choosing the least probable category to extrapolate? Now compare them to other dangers we strongly regulate against with evolving regulations, like automobile accidents. That's how these stats are properly used. Dangers aren't radiation, you don't look at the half life to comprehend them.

@bcglorf

i don't think using @drradon 's example of anarchy a good use as a rebuttal.

now may be larken rose's vision is an extreme example,taken from the von mises institute,and where they dreamily offer a counter to police with a "non-aggression principle".while cute and adorable,humans tend to be far more vicious and violent in nature,especially when desperate.

but again,i think our respective approaches to authority will not find common ground here.

i do not seek a leader,but i am ok with a representative,though i do not seem to have any in my government at the moment.

i find it curious,amazing and not a little disturbing just how easily people will quietly,and tacitly accept a police that has become more and more draconian,violent and aggressive while SIMULTANEOUSLY decreasing the citizens rights to protect themselves,defend themselves and resist unlawful police practices.

because they simply change the law to make what WAS illegal...legal.with a stroke of a pen.

and i simply cannot respect when an american says,without any sense of justice or history,to just sit down,shut up and do what you are told.

while claiming they are a patriot,waving their american flag made in china.

the history of law enforcement in this country reveals that their main job,their main focus and duty is NOT to the poor,the dispossessed or the marginalized.

the police's job is to protect those who hold assets,who have money and wield political power.

and before you say anything,i am quite aware that there are some,and they are the majority,who do their job with honor and distinction.my argument is not about singular police officers but rather the systematic problems inherent in the system.

lets take my city for example.
i am blessed enough to live adjacent to a very wealthy and influential housing development.

average police response time?=7 minutes.

right down the street,not 10 miles down the road,is a depressed area of town.industry and manufacturing abandoned that area 20 years ago.it is stricken with prostitution,heroin addicts and abject poverty.

average police response time?=22 minutes

yet the main police station is in THAT area.

or should i bring up the history of american labor movement?
where the coal miners in west virginia decided to strike,and because the owners of the mines were politically connected.the governor sent in the state police to...and this should send chills down your spine...shoot any miners unwilling to go back to work.

and they did.
they murdered any coal miner still willing to stand up against the owners of the mine,and this included women and children.

now lets examine that for a minute.
workers for a coal mine decided to strike for better working conditions (which were horrible) and actually have a day off,besides sunday (because:god).

the owner of the mine,who was losing immense of amount of money due to zero production of coal,called the governor to have the state police,a civil institution,sent in to put those people down.to force them to either get back to work or face violence.

*now the owner brought in his own mercenary group to assist in the process of intimidation,strong arm tactics and violence.

i will add one more story that is personal,and comes from my own family,and may possibly explain my attitude towards police in general.

my father was born in 1930,in alton illinois.
now that small town had been hit particularly hard during the depression.my father spoke of not having indoor plumbing until he went into the navy,and how the floors in his childhood home were simple boards over dirt.

he grew up extremely poor,and my grandfather struggled to find steady work,and i gather from what my father told me.my grandpa made bootleg beer out of the bathtub.so he and his 6 brothers and 1 sister had to bathe in the mississippi river while grandpa tried to make money by selling illegal hooch.

my father also regaled me with stories of the chores he had as the youngest of 8 kids.it was his job every morning to head to the train tracks and pick the coal that dropped from the coal carts.(which he admitted to being lazy and stole directly from the very full coal cart itself while his brother kept an eye out for the station master).

my point is that my father grew up in desperate and poor times.

but one story always stood out,and i think it is because it has a wild west feel to it that always transfixed me,and i made him tell me the story over and over as a child.

when times are tough,people will do whatever they have to in order to survive,so my grandfather making illegal hooch was not the only illegalities being played out in that small town.neighbor upon neighbor did what they had to,and most were considered criminals in the eyes of the state.

so i guess one of my grandpa's friends was on the run from the law,and sought refuge at my grandpa's home.which he allowed,because neighbors take care of neighbors,at least they used to.

well,in a small town everybody knows everybody,and eventually three police officers showed up at my grandpa's house,and demanded that he turn over (i forgot the guys name).

and i remember the pride on my fathers face whenever he retold this story....

my grandfather stood tall on the top of his stairs facing his front door,holding his gun he was given during WW1 and told the police officers (which he knew.small town remember?),that if they took one step into his home..he would blow their heads off.

now this is a story retold from a childs perspective many years later.i am sure my fathers memory was a tad....biased..but i would bet the meaty parts were accurate.

now my question is this:
how would that exact same scenario play out in todays climate?

well,we would see on the 6 o'clock news how a family was tragically shot to death for harboring a criminal and that the police had done EVERYTHING in their power to avoid this kind of violence.

i know this is long,and i hope i didn't lose you along the way,but i think we should not dismiss the very real slow decent into a society that silently obeys,quietly accepts more and more authoritarian powers all in the name of "safety",and that any form of resistance is to be viewed as "criminal" and "troublesome".

so while i agree that "when should we shoot a cop" should be in the realm of:let us try to never do that.

i also cannot agree to placing cops on a hero platform as if their job is somehow sacrosanct and beyond reproach.they are human beings,of limited intellect,whose main job it is to protect those who own property,have wealth and wield political power.

and with the current disparity and blatant inequality their job has been more and more focused on keeping those 30% undesirables down.

the poor,the destitute,the marginalized,the addict and the junkie and the petty criminals.

those are a threat to the "better" citizens.they are a blight on a community that should be cleansed from the tender eyes of those who are deemed more "worthy".

rich folk may wring their hands,and lament the plight of the poor and wretched,but for GOD's sakes! they don't want to actually SEE them!

so a police officer can do all the mental gymnastics they want in order to justify their place in society,but at the end of the day,they serve the elites.

and they always have.

living on a stair?

Ha!
I'm just going by my limited experience from the 80's when I spent 2 weeks there. At one point we went to a public hot spring that had cement pools that the water cascaded down, making what looked like a giant set of stairs going down a hillside. Some kids were there, playing in a few by throwing small rocks back and forth. At one point, a 14+- year old boy stood up, and in a calm measured tone said "Excuse me. I would appreciate it if you would stop throwing stones."...and they did. We fell over laughing, knowing that an American teen has never once in all recorded history been so polite and adult when dealing with other kids, nor would American kids respond by stopping.
We didn't meet a single rude kiwi.

Yeah, our South Australian office (along with the entire state!!!) lost power at 15:30 yesterday (their time, 4pm our time) and we're only just restarting their systems now.

My South Australian colleague had to walk up 10 flights of stairs this morning because the lifts weren't working yet (they fixed them just after).

I have a few questions if anyone would care to satisfy my curiosity, I've seen/read a lot of stuff and I don't know what the reliable sources are for this. I'll list them so they're easy to answer, and I'm not trying to imply stuff or score any points, I just want to know. Sorry if any of this is tin-foil hat rubbish but I've been unable to sleep recently and ended up watching a lot of old crap, in a weakened mental state.

1 - Were those people with her yesterday, and does she often travel with, a nurse and a doctor?
2 - What's with the coughing and sicking up green globules into the glass of water? Never seen anything like that green stuff before.
3 - Did she need help getting up some stairs a while ago, or were they misleading photos?
4 - Why did no one react to her going completely limp? I can understand the well trained entourage explanation, but they didn't even look around to check for danger, considering their VIP went lifeless.
5 - Why did they take a collapsed elderly woman with pneumonia to an apartment rather than a hospital?
6 - Why say it was heat stroke?
7 - Has she really been pulling out of a lot of campaign events?

To be honest, I don't find her collapsing a worry at all. I've collapsed due to illness and I'm healthy and fit. What i do find strange is the reaction and lying about it. Somehow that makes me question the other things, but there you have it - my questions.

I think Clinton and Trump are equally bad. Clinton represents everything that disgusts me about politics - the 1%, 'the establishment', privilege and modern society, she will continue to sign off murdering innocent people and destroying the ecosystem for profit worldwide. Trump is.. well, offensive, sexist, racist, but i think only because it makes him popular, like a school bully, but he doesn't understand the new platform he has or what effect his words have on how people behave, and all in all that makes him a cowardly, selfish, egotistical weasel who we're about to give the keys to everything. Either way, we are fucked.

I hate both of them with equal passion. She's obviously sick or just isn't in great health. It's very obvious. It's getting harder for them to hide it IMO. Constant coughing fits, always has a hand on a handrail or someone helping her up/down stairs. I'm not defending trump either.

Godzilla 2016 for president.

I love how it only fits because he ground away under the stairs and lifts the rear end.

Parisians with mild claustrophobia must be the fittest folk around, then since the thought of getting stuck in that space should make anyone who's even slightly fazed by confined spaces take the stairs...

Most people her age(and less!) can't even walk up a set of stairs right or pick something up off the floor. Keep active!

@:45 "i already got some of this. Are you kidding Santa.

No idea what was shouted down the stairs.

Someone translate, what did the little girl say at :45 and what did someone shout down the stairs at 1:03, besides shut up

People are stupid and want to be fooled so why would anyone apologize. Employing critical thinking is like fighting gravity, most people take the elevator rather than climb the stairs.

So...I go to John Lewis if I'm an old man who wants to look at little girls through a telescope?


The Man in the Moon had silver shoon
And his beard was of silver thread;
He was girt with pure gold and inaureoled
With gold about his head.
Clad in silken robe in his great white globe
He opened an ivory door
With a crystal key, and in secrecy
He stole o'er a shadowy floor;

Down a filigree stair of spidery hair
He slipped in gleaming haste,
And laughing with glee to be merry and free
He swiftly earthward raced.
He was tired of his pearls and diamond twirls;
Of his pallid minaret
Dizzy and white at its lunar height
In a world of silver set;

And adventured this peril for ruby and beryl
And emerald and sapphire,
And all lustrous gems for new diadems,
Or to blazon his pale attire.
He was lonely too with nothing to do
But to stare at the golden world,
Or to strain at the hum that would distantly come
As it gaily past him whirled;

And at plenilune in his argent moon
He had wearily longed for Fire-
Not the limpid lights of wan selenites,
But a red terrestrial pyre
With impurpurate glows of crimson and rose
And leaping orange tongue;
For great seas of blues and the passionate hues
When a dancing dawn is young;

For the meadowy ways like chrysophrase
By winding Yare and Nen.
How he longed for the mirth of the populous Earth
And the sanguine blood of men;
And coveted song and laughter long
And viands hot and wine,
Eating pearly cakes of light snowflakes
And drinking thin moonshine.

He twinkled his feet as he thought of the meat,
Of the punch and the peppery brew,
Till he tripped unaware on his slanting stair,
And fell like meteors do;
As the whickering sparks in splashing arcs
Of stars blown down like rain
From his laddery path took a foaming bath
In the ocean of Almain;

And began to think, lest he melt and stink,
What in the moon to do,
When a Yarmouth boat found him far afloat,
To the mazement of the crew
Caught in their net all shimmering wet
In a phosphorescent sheen
Of bluey whites and opal lights
And delicate liquid green

With the morning fish — 'twas his regal wish —
They packed him to Norwich town,
To get warm on gin in a Norfolk inn,
And dry his watery gown.
Though St. Peter's knell waked many a bell
In the city's ringing towers
To shout the news of his lunatic cruise
In the early morning hours,

No hearths were laid, not a breakfast made,
And no one would sell him gems;
He found ashes for fire, and his gay desire
For choruses and brave anthems
Met snores instead with all Norfolk abed,
And his round heart nearly broke,
More empty and cold than above of old,
Till he bartered his fairy cloak

With a half waked cook for a kitchen nook,
And his belt of gold for a smile,
And a priceless jewel for a bowl of gruel,
A sample cold and vile
Of the proud plum porridge of Anglian Norwich —
He arrived much too soon
For unusual guests on adventurous quests
From the Mountains of the Moon.

Why do they store their stairs in their closet? Odd choice.