I'm uncomfortable when two guys kiss and shit, but that's my business. I'm not going to go out and enact legislation to ban it, or try to split them up or whatever.

If you don't want to deal with their "agenda", then you best stay at home. Because they sure as hell don't want to deal with your agenda either.

>> ^lantern53:

Did you hear about that high school kid who was shot in the head because he kept dressing up like a girl, high heels, etc. and flirting with boys? The school wouldn't stop this inappropriate behavior so the boy took it into his own hands to commit murder.
Most people don't care if someone wants to act like a transgender person or whatever, but don't get in their face because getting in their face offends them and invades their space.
Keep it to yourself and your gay friends. Other people don't want to deal with your agenda.

Did you hear about that high school kid who was shot in the head because he kept dressing up like a girl, high heels, etc. and flirting with boys? The school wouldn't stop this inappropriate behavior so the boy took it into his own hands to commit murder.

Most people don't care if someone wants to act like a transgender person or whatever, but don't get in their face because getting in their face offends them and invades their space.

Keep it to yourself and your gay friends. Other people don't want to deal with your agenda.

1) iPad 3 will definitely come out this year with a retina display.
2) Apple will flirt with idea of making apple TV into a playstation with iPad 3 innards, controllable by ipad/iphone and make a contender to console gaming. (Natural progression of Airplay).
3) Ron Paul will do better than ever in the polls, but won't win.
4) Obama will win.
5) SOPA will not pass.
6) SOPA-light will pass and will be almost as bad.
7) Esports, primarily Starcraft2, will continue to grow. (2011 was HUGE)
The mayan calendar will end and no one will notice. (Wave hello to Harold Camping)
9) God will continue to recede into obscurity as our common knowledge grows.

There are many, many multiplayer only games, and I'm not even talking about MMOs. Console games have lagged behind PC in terms of online connectivity, but with the success of PSN and Xbox Live, multiplayer has become much more prominent in the console-space, and will be even more relevant with the next generation. When you are playing the sequel to one of the historically greatest PC multiplayer only franchises, yes complaining about the singleplayer is like complaining about the salad at the steak restaurant.

And when 95% of your "reviews" focuses on why a game sucks, you are a "hater". It's hard to take someone's "opinions" seriously when their idea of game of the year is Saints Row 2.


>> ^Deano:

>> ^ChaosEngine:
>> ^Deano:
Personally I disagree. Single-player is very important to me with only a very few exceptions.

Given that the BF series was founded on multiplayer, and has always been about multiplayer, I think it might qualify as one of those exceptions.
Now, don't get me wrong, if you release an SP campaign and market it as heavily as EA has, it's fair game for criticism. But it's kinda like going to a steak house, having a fantastic steak, a great bottle of win and then complaining about the garlic bread. The bread shoulda been better, but it's not why you went out in the first place.
Anyway, Yahtzee has a well-known dislike for online multiplayer, given that he is a "jaded, friendless misanthrope" (his words).

If it's fair game then I don't think the steak house analogy really applies. If on the other hand it was heavily hyped as MP with far less emphasis on SP then I can see where one might have cause for concern.
The thing is no publisher is ever going to market a game that just has multiplayer, even if for many dedicated fans that is what the game is really about. They still have to sell a game to everyone which includes people like me who will play the SP, maybe flirt with the MP for a short while then stop playing.

>> ^ChaosEngine:

>> ^Deano:
Personally I disagree. Single-player is very important to me with only a very few exceptions.

Given that the BF series was founded on multiplayer, and has always been about multiplayer, I think it might qualify as one of those exceptions.
Now, don't get me wrong, if you release an SP campaign and market it as heavily as EA has, it's fair game for criticism. But it's kinda like going to a steak house, having a fantastic steak, a great bottle of win and then complaining about the garlic bread. The bread shoulda been better, but it's not why you went out in the first place.
Anyway, Yahtzee has a well-known dislike for online multiplayer, given that he is a "jaded, friendless misanthrope" (his words).


If it's fair game then I don't think the steak house analogy really applies. If on the other hand it was heavily hyped as MP with far less emphasis on SP then I can see where one might have cause for concern.
The thing is no publisher is ever going to market a game that just has multiplayer, even if for many dedicated fans that is what the game is really about. They still have to sell a game to everyone which includes people like me who will play the SP, maybe flirt with the MP for a short while then stop playing.

So in this case it's an individual saying what the big businesses are doing, using the recession/depression to increase earnings AND attempting to influence laws and legislation to continue to do so.

Despite what many of the corporations claim the market is doing to them, their profits have been increasing. And we still have companies cutting benefits, laying off people, and many other things.

In fact some of this doublespeak is going to cause them a lot of headaches in the future, especially in production/manufacturing where many of the companies laid off massive amounts of people and despite needing the majority of them back they tried to hire cheaper labor.

But they are finding, at least in my area, that there is virtually no training programs available for manufacturing because they had problems recruiting people in these dismal times with all the BS the companies spouted, so people went into medical and stuff where they were told there were shortages.

Now they have their previous work forces that they laid off, looking to retire instead of putting up with more of the rollercoaster they created. No trained young people to replace the guys looking to retire, and a whole lot of pissed off people who were laid off and never recalled because the company is trying to make more money using unskilled labor where it can.

One company in particular went on the news and spoke about how they couldn't find any "qualified" workers, despite having laid off the majority of their work force just a year prior and admitting they over-reacted in doing so.

It's backwards of the way it should be, these companies should be telling people what they want on your qualifications. Finding a school or training program that can provide it and giving them a rough estimate of what they would be able to hire locally and possibly globally.

Instead we hear repeatedly about how the colleges/universities are putting out graduates that don't fulfill the needs of companies, but they keep requiring a degree to work at said company.

There's just too much BS to wade through in the job market to get anywhere without contacts, and the companies themselves are to blame for the conditions they've created. They've made it more costly for people to get their foot in the door, and they still aren't even clear about what they actually want from employees. Except for maybe drug rep companies, they want ex-cheerleaders to flirt the doctors into prescribing....of course their job ad will never say anything close to this.

There are plenty of books that I've read where the characters seem to be bisexual and constantly flirt with the idea, especially female characters. I find it to be rather annoying when it comes up so often in the books that it overshadows the story or in some cases becomes the story.

Try reading Laurel K. Hamilton, that author went off the deep end with her character Anita Blake, around book 9 or 10, she just stops with the teasing and has her sleeping with everything and everyone. It got really tedious reading through the book or two following 10, so I stopped reading the series. Plus the books just kept getting shorter and shorter when I saw her new books released. They went from 250-400 pages to about 150 and complaints full of the sex in the book taking up too much of the content.

These guys could probably find another place to publish. I mean after all Laurel K Hamilton delves into beastiality, criticizing her readers for being prudes when they get tired of story turning into her weird sex imaginings.

In these days of indigestion it is oftentimes a question
As to what to eat and what to leave alone.
Every microbe and bacillus has a different way to kill us
And in time they all will claim us for their own.
There are germs of every kind in every food that you can find
In the market or upon the bill of fare.
Drinking water's just as risky as the so-called "deadly" whiskey
And it's often a mistake to breathe the air.

Cho: For some little bug is going to get you someday.
Some little bug will creep behind you some day.
Then he'll send for his bug friends
And all your troubles they will end,
For some little bug is gonna find you someday.

The inviting green cucumber, it's most everybody's number
While sweetcorn has a system of its own.
Now, that radish seems nutritious, but its behavior is quite vicious
And a doctor will be coming to your home.
Eating lobster, cooked or plain, is only flirting with ptomaine,
While an oyster often has a lot to say.
And those clams we eat in chowder make the angels sing the louder
For they know that they'll be with us right away.

For some little bug is going to get you someday.
Some little bug will creep behind you some day.
Eat that juicy sliced pineapple ;and the sexton dusts the chapel
Oh, yes, some little bug is gonna find you some day.

When cold storage vaults I visit, I can only say, "What is it
Makes poor mortals fill their systems with such stuff?"
Now, at breakfast prunes are dandy if a stomach pump is handy
And a doctor can be called quite soon enough.

Eat a plate of fine pig's knuckles and the headstone cutter chuckles
While the gravedigger makes a mark upon his cuff.
And eat that lovely red bologna and you'll wear a wood kimona
As your relatives start packing up your stuff.

Those crazy foods they fix, they'll float us 'cross the River Styx
Or start us climbing up the Milky Way.
And those meals they serve in courses mean a hearse and two black horses
So before meals, some people always pray.

Luscious grapes breed appendicitis, while their juice leads to gastritis
So there's only death to greet us either way.
Fried liver's nice, but mind you, friends will follow close behind you
And the papers, they will have nice things to say.

For some little bug is going to get you someday.
Some little bug will creep behind you some day.
Eat that spicy bowl of chili, on your breast they'll plant a lily .
Oh, yes, some little bug is gonna find you some day.

>> ^gwiz665:

Bukowski wrote that? Huh, guess I should reevaluate my position on him.


This is one of my favorite short stories of all time:

http://plagiarist.com/poetry/194/

Cass was the youngest and most beautiful of 5 sisters. Cass was the most beautiful girl in town. 1/2 Indian with a supple and strange body, a snake-like and fiery body with eyes to go with it. Cass was fluid moving fire. She was like a spirit stuck into a form that would not hold her. Her hair was black and long and silken and whirled about as did her body. Her spirit was either very high or very low. There was no in between for Cass. Some said she was crazy. The dull ones said that. The dull ones would never understand Cass. To the men she was simply a sex machine and they didn't care whether she was crazy or not. And Cass danced and flirted, kissed the men, but except for an instance or two, when it came time to make it with Cass, Cass had somehow slipped away, eluded the men.

Her sisters accused her of misusing her beauty, of not using her mind enough, but Cass had mind and spirit; she painted, she danced, she sang, she made things of clay, and when people were hurt either in the spirit or the flesh, Cass felt a deep grieving for them. Her mind was simply different; her mind was simply not practical. Her sisters were jealous of her because she attracted their men, and they were angry because they felt she didn't make the best use of them. She had a habit of being kind to the uglier ones; the so-called handsome men revolted her- "No guts," she said, "no zap. They are riding on their perfect little earlobes and well- shaped nostrils...all surface and no insides..." She had a temper that came close to insanity, she had a temper that some call insanity. Her father had died of alcohol and her mother had run off leaving the girls alone. The girls went to a relative who placed them in a convent. The convent had been an unhappy place, more for Cass than the sisters. The girls were jealous of Cass and Cass fought most of them. She had razor marks all along her left arm from defending herself in two fights. There was also a permanent scar along the left cheek but the scar rather than lessening her beauty only seemed to highlight it. I met her at the West End Bar several nights after her release from the convent. Being youngest, she was the last of the sisters to be released. She simply came in and sat next to me. I was probably the ugliest man in town and this might have had something to do with it.

"Drink?" I asked.

"Sure, why not?"

I don't suppose there was anything unusual in our conversation that night, it was simply in the feeling Cass gave. She had chosen me and it was as simple as that. No pressure. She liked her drinks and had a great number of them. She didn't seem quite of age but they served he anyhow. Perhaps she had forged i.d., I don't know. Anyhow, each time she came back from the restroom and sat down next to me, I did feel some pride. She was not only the most beautiful woman in town but also one of the most beautiful I had ever seen. I placed my arm about her waist and kissed her once.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" she asked.

"Yes, of course, but there's something else... there's more than your looks..."

"People are always accusing me of being pretty. Do you really think I'm pretty?"

"Pretty isn't the word, it hardly does you fair."

Cass reached into her handbag. I thought she was reaching for her handkerchief. She came out with a long hatpin. Before I could stop her she had run this long hatpin through her nose, sideways, just above the nostrils. I felt disgust and horror. She looked at me and laughed, "Now do you think me pretty? What do you think now, man?" I pulled the hatpin out and held my handkerchief over the bleeding. Several people, including the bartender, had seen the act. The bartender came down:

"Look," he said to Cass, "you act up again and you're out. We don't need your dramatics here."

"Oh, fuck you, man!" she said.

"Better keep her straight," the bartender said to me.

"She'll be all right," I said.

"It's my nose, I can do what I want with my nose."

"No," I said, "it hurts me."

"You mean it hurts you when I stick a pin in my nose?"

"Yes, it does, I mean it."

"All right, I won't do it again. Cheer up."

She kissed me, rather grinning through the kiss and holding the handkerchief to her nose. We left for my place at closing time. I had some beer and we sat there talking. It was then that I got the perception of her as a person full of kindness and caring. She gave herself away without knowing it. At the same time she would leap back into areas of wildness and incoherence. Schitzi. A beautiful and spiritual schitzi. Perhaps some man, something, would ruin her forever. I hoped that it wouldn't be me. We went to bed and after I turned out the lights Cass asked me,

"When do you want it? Now or in the morning?"

"In the morning," I said and turned my back.

In the morning I got up and made a couple of coffees, brought her one in bed. She laughed.

"You're the first man who has turned it down at night."

"It's o.k.," I said, "we needn't do it at all."

"No, wait, I want to now. Let me freshen up a bit."

Cass went into the bathroom. She came out shortly, looking quite wonderful, her long black hair glistening, her eyes and lips glistening, her glistening... She displayed her body calmly, as a good thing. She got under the sheet.

"Come on, lover man."

I got in. She kissed with abandon but without haste. I let my hands run over her body, through her hair. I mounted. It was hot, and tight. I began to stroke slowly, wanting to make it last. Her eyes looked directly into mine.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"What the hell difference does it make?" she asked.

I laughed and went on ahead. Afterwards she dressed and I drove her back to the bar but she was difficult to forget. I wasn't working and I slept until 2 p.m. then got up and read the paper. I was in the bathtub when she came in with a large leaf- an elephant ear.

"I knew you'd be in the bathtub," she said, "so I brought you something to cover that thing with, nature boy."

She threw the elephant leaf down on me in the bathtub.

"How did you know I'd be in the tub?"

"I knew."

Almost every day Cass arrived when I was in the tub. The times were different but she seldom missed, and there was the elephant leaf. And then we'd make love. One or two nights she phoned and I had to bail her out of jail for drunkenness and fighting.

"These sons of bitches," she said, "just because they buy you a few drinks they think they can get into your pants."

"Once you accept a drink you create your own trouble."

"I thought they were interested in me, not just my body."

"I'm interested in you and your body. I doubt, though, that most men can see beyond your body."

I left town for 6 months, bummed around, came back. I had never forgotten Cass, but we'd had some type of argument and I felt like moving anyhow, and when I got back i figured she'd be gone, but I had been sitting in the West End Bar about 30 minutes when she walked in and sat down next to me.

"Well, bastard, I see you've come back."

I ordered her a drink. Then I looked at her. She had on a high- necked dress. I had never seen her in one of those. And under each eye, driven in, were 2 pins with glass heads. All you could see were the heads of the pins, but the pins were driven down into her face.

"God damn you, still trying to destroy your beauty, eh?"

"No, it's the fad, you fool."

"You're crazy."

"I've missed you," she said.

"Is there anybody else?"

"No there isn't anybody else. Just you. But I'm hustling. It costs ten bucks. But you get it free."

"Pull those pins out."

"No, it's the fad."

"It's making me very unhappy."

"Are you sure?"

"Hell yes, I'm sure."

Cass slowly pulled the pins out and put them back in her purse.

"Why do you haggle your beauty?" I asked. "Why don't you just live with it?"

"Because people think it's all I have. Beauty is nothing, beauty won't stay. You don't know how lucky you are to be ugly, because if people like you you know it's for something else."

"O.k.," I said, "I'm lucky."

"I don't mean you're ugly. People just think you're ugly. You have a fascinating face."

"Thanks."

We had another drink.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Nothing. I can't get on to anything. No interest."

"Me neither. If you were a woman you could hustle."

"I don't think I could ever make contact with that many strangers, it's wearing."

"You're right, it's wearing, everything is wearing."

We left together. People still stared at Cass on the streets. She was a beautiful woman, perhaps more beautiful than ever. We made it to my place and I opened a bottle of wine and we talked. With Cass and I, it always came easy. She talked a while and I would listen and then i would talk. Our conversation simply went along without strain. We seemed to discover secrets together. When we discovered a good one Cass would laugh that laugh- only the way she could. It was like joy out of fire. Through the talking we kissed and moved closer together. We became quite heated and decided to go to bed. It was then that Cass took off her high -necked dress and I saw it- the ugly jagged scar across her throat. It was large and thick.

"God damn you, woman," I said from the bed, "god damn you, what have you done?

"I tried it with a broken bottle one night. Don't you like me any more? Am I still beautiful?"

I pulled her down on the bed and kissed her. She pushed away and laughed, "Some men pay me ten and I undress and they don't want to do it. I keep the ten. It's very funny."

"Yes," I said, "I can't stop laughing... Cass, bitch, I love you...stop destroying yourself; you're the most alive woman I've ever met."

We kissed again. Cass was crying without sound. I could feel the tears. The long black hair lay beside me like a flag of death. We enjoined and made slow and somber and wonderful love. In the morning Cass was up making breakfast. She seemed quite calm and happy. She was singing. I stayed in bed and enjoyed her happiness. Finally she came over and shook me,

"Up, bastard! Throw some cold water on your face and pecker and come enjoy the feast!"

I drove her to the beach that day. It was a weekday and not yet summer so things were splendidly deserted. Beach bums in rags slept on the lawns above the sand. Others sat on stone benches sharing a lone bottle. The gulls whirled about, mindless yet distracted. Old ladies in their 70's and 80's sat on the benches and discussed selling real estate left behind by husbands long ago killed by the pace and stupidity of survival. For it all, there was peace in the air and we walked about and stretched on the lawns and didn't say much. It simply felt good being together. I bought a couple of sandwiches, some chips and drinks and we sat on the sand eating. Then I held Cass and we slept together about an hour. It was somehow better than lovemaking. There was flowing together without tension. When we awakened we drove back to my place and I cooked a dinner. After dinner I suggested to Cass that we shack together. She waited a long time, looking at me, then she slowly said, "No." I drove her back to the bar, bought her a drink and walked out. I found a job as a parker in a factory the next day and the rest of the week went to working. I was too tired to get about much but that Friday night I did get to the West End Bar. I sat and waited for Cass. Hours went by . After I was fairly drunk the bartender said to me, "I'm sorry about your girlfriend."

"What is it?" I asked.

"I'm sorry, didn't you know?"

"No."

"Suicide. She was buried yesterday."

"Buried?" I asked. It seemed as though she would walk through the doorway at any moment. How could she be gone?

"Her sisters buried her."

"A suicide? Mind telling me how?"

"She cut her throat."

"I see. Give me another drink."

I drank until closing time. Cass was the most beautiful of 5 sisters, the most beautiful in town. I managed to drive to my place and I kept thinking, I should have insisted she stay with me instead of accepting that "no." Everything about her had indicated that she had cared. I simply had been too offhand about it, lazy, too unconcerned. I deserved my death and hers. I was a dog. No, why blame the dogs? I got up and found a bottle of wine and drank from it heavily. Cass the most beautiful girl in town was dead at 20. Outside somebody honked their automobile horn. They were very loud and persistent. I sat the bottle down and screamed out: "GOD DAMN YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH ,SHUT UP!" The night kept coming and there was nothing I could do.

Ha! Yes, I love you.

That comment was from a little while ago. I was hoping you'd notice sooner. Pretty good call, though, wouldn't you say?

In reply to this comment by blankfist:
You've been following me around the Sift the past couple of days flirting pretty hard with me. You okay, or you got something you want to say?

In reply to this comment by kymbos:
Oh dear, now he's arguing with himself online.

You've been following me around the Sift the past couple of days flirting pretty hard with me. You okay, or you got something you want to say?

In reply to this comment by kymbos:
Oh dear, now he's arguing with himself online.

>> ^NetRunner:
My interest in having these conversations with you is because I care what you think.


Stop flirting with me.

Comrades, this is the essence of the internet:

In the guise of Paula Brooks, Graber corresponded online with Tom MacMaster, thinking he was writing to Amina Arraf. Amina often flirted with Brooks, neither of the men realizing the other was pretending to be a lesbian.

Something about how the mosaic filter was applied here just looks like the guy who did it continuously flirted with the idea of sliding off her face quickly a couple times over the course of the interview.