Are you lost in the world like me?
And the systems have failed are you free?
All the things are lost can you see?
Are you lost in the world like me?
Like me


Look hard the city is gone
Black days and a dying sun
Dream a dream of dark lit air
Just for a minute you’ll find me there
So look harder and you’ll find
Forty ways it leaves us blind
I need a better place to burn beside the lines

Come on and let me try
Are you lost in the world like me?
And the systems have failed are you free?
All the things are lost can you see?
Are you lost in the world like me?
Like me

So (???) in the city it’s dawn
Dropping knives and a dying sun
Salted love in the dark lit air
Just for a minute I’ll find you there
So look harder and you’ll find
The forty ways it leaves us blind
I need a better way to burn beside the lines

Come on and let me try

Are you lost in the world like me?
And the systems have failed are you free?
All the things are lost can you see?
Are you lost in the world like me?
Like me

Are you lost in the world like me?
And the systems have failed are you free?
All the things are lost can you see?
Are you lost in the world like me?
Like me

"Poisonous tone and attitude." POISONOUS TONE AND ATTITUDE???!!!???

So, would you like to expand on that phrase, @vil? And perhaps read crushbug's comment above?

Because here is what I hear -- not that you are saying this, but it is what I hear:

Angry women are off-putting. Women with sarcastic voices are off-putting. Women who dare to be anything but sweet and compliant are off-putting.

Men are not "policed" this way. They are allowed a wide range of attitudes in the way they present information. Of course, they CAN be "poisonous" -- but I guarantee you no man's delivery this mild would be labelled "poisonous."

There is a "thing" called "vocal fry" that some women (and gay men) have that pitches their voices high (to be simplistic in its description.) There has been reams written about it. I assumed that most of the comments here were related to vocal fry.

Your comment here is not about vocal fry. Or if it is, wow. What words to use to describe it. Ouch.

So can you use different words to explain what you mean? If I am not understanding you?

As for "word counts not mattering" -- that is categorically not true.

I have been talking about this for forty years and have thought about it deeply, in a logical manner, trying to find the vocabulary to discuss it. I think I have succeeded, and it applies to black people, especially black men, as well as women, both black and white. Here it comes.

Words have values. Words with similar values are interchangeable with gender usage. Words that don't have similar values are sexist and racist. (Even if women do it to themselves, they are indeed engaging in internalized sexism.) If you can take a sentence with the word "girl" being used, and change the gender to male, would you ever -- in that specific situation -- use the word "boy"? If you would, go for it.

And here is where the "word count" matters. Because there are more women than there are men, and yet the word count proves that in the same situation, the word girl is used a lot more. Even if you take out the gymnasts, who are indeed less than 19.

I never say "never use the word girl." Because sometimes, in the same situation, you would indeed use the word "boy."

Let me give you an example.

Old Boys Network. Very powerful men, on the same social and power level, call themselves "boys." Leads to Boys Night Out -- same social and power level.

So can you say Girls Night Out without it being an infantilzation? Absolutely.

Can black people call themselves the n-word? Sure. Same social and power levels. A white person calling a black person the n-word? Nope, nope, nope, nope. Different social and power levels.

This will only make sense to older people, since it doesn't happen as much as it used to. Calling a black man "boy." A grown man. With a job and a family and dignity. Can a white person employing a black man call him "boy"? No. No they cannot.

When is a man over the age of 20 or so called a boy? Very very rarely. Young man, sure. But rarely "boy."

Yet when it comes to women, they are called girls until they die. And they do it to themselves, to make themselves smaller and less threatening.

So. Poisonous. Tell me what you meant, please? Keeping in mind the idea that "threatening" women need to stay in their place?

You want me to link to a dictionary?

What, you don't believe they exist?

Slander is verbal only, written untruths that hurt the reputation of the recipient are called "libel". For it to be slander OR libel, the statements must be untrue and they must do damage to the offended party, I can't see how my words would fit either of those definitions, since they were about the WORK and not the person. (yes I know I said he hasn't got a clue, but that's valid criticism, and you'll see worse on any given day on Rotten Tomatoes)

Secondly, I'm not going to link to my work. I'm anonymous here for a reason (mostly because I'm an asshole). The first professional work I did was on a series called Weird-Ohs. Feel free to look it up. I've worked on about a dozen other shows for forty, maybe fifty episodes plus some other work on the side.

I don't see how linking to some animation will somehow prove that I am one of the credited animators anyhow.

Who is this "we" of whom you speak?

Because I have proudly called myself a feminist since at least 1976, if not before.

I started calling myself a Humanist also maybe in 1990? Somewhere around there? I am not giving up the term Feminist though. No matter who tries to co-opt it or suppress my use of it.

Or even "oppress" my use of it, if I might go that far. Why do I have to fight you to use a simple word to describe myself?

The scolding continues, by the way. Telling me that I am wrong to use a term I have proudly used for over 40 years. Because you and some of your friends don't like it and don't want to use it, for your own valid reasons.

Please stop telling Feminists that the word was never "descriptive of their goals" when in fact it is very descriptive.

Equality for women. Period.

I'm not telling you to stop labeling yourself only a Humanist. I was clear that I understood your point when I said that Humanist is an umbrella word that covers Feminist.

Is this going to be one of these long back-and-forths, where you try to talk me out of something? I really don't want to go there. It's exhausting.

Maybe the real question you might consider asking yourself is -- why is it so important to you that I hew to your definitions? Is it just an intellectual exercise, the fun of the argument? Well, it isn't fun to me. It feels lecturing and minimizing of my personal experience and knowledge and life lessons I have learned.

I know you don't intend that. However, I am telling you straight out, clearly, that is how it feels to me and I don't like it. I've been on the receiving end for FORTY FUCKING YEARS why it is inappropriate for some reason or other to call myself a feminist. The reasons change, but the goal always seems to be same: To stop me and others from overtly saying that we care about women and their place in society.

It's not going to happen. After 40 years, it just isn't going to happen.

I'm a feminist. I care about women and their place in society.

Thank you kindly.

It's one of my favorites as well...for over forty years.

"It does us a power of good to remind ourselves that we live on two volcanic rocks where two tectonic plates meet, in a somewhat lonely stretch of windswept ocean just above the Roaring Forties. If you want drama - you've come to the right place."

Memory attributed that to David Lange like most kiwi quotes, but apparently it was Geoffrey Palmer.

Woah, they are good looking. And it almost looks like they have some meat on their bones... Bet that was more than they ate in like forty years.

Forty is nothing to sneeze at [even though it IS the start of flu season]. Congratulations on your achievement ... have a delightful Birthday Keith

I love this -- except for one little thing. "Feeling like a fox"? Why did they toss that in there? Undercuts the message, big time.

OH. And the title. This GIRL can? When women of all ages are shown? Why women infantalize themselves with that crap has bugged me for forty years. And it is actually worse now that it was 40 years ago.

The rest of it? Lordy yes!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It was April the forty-first
Being a quadruple leap year
I was driving in downtown Atlantis
My barracuda was in the shop
So I was in a rented stingray
And it was overheating

So I pulled into a Shell Station
They said I'd blown a seal
I said, "Fix the damn thing
And leave my private life out of it
Okay pal?"

While they were doing that
I walked over to a place called the Oyster Bar, a real dive
But I knew the owner
He used to play for the Dolphins
I said "Hi Gil"
You have to yell, he's hard of herring

Think I had a wet dream
Cruisin' thru the Gulf Stream
Ooh Ooh Ooh Ooh
Wet dream

Gil was also down on his luck
Fact is he was barely keeping his head below water
I bellied up to the sandbar
He poured me the usual

Rusty snail, hold the grunion
Shaken not stirred
With a peanut butter and jellyfish sandwich on the side
Heavy on the mako

I slipped him a fin
On porpoise
I was feeling good
I even dropped a sand dollar in the box for Jerry's squids
For the halibut

Well the place was crowded
We were packed in like sardines They were all there to listen to the big band sounds of Tommy Dorsal
What sole

Tommy was rockin' the place with a very popular tuna
Salmon Chanted Evening
And the stage was surrounded by screaming groupers
Probably there to see the bass player

One of them was this cute little yellowtail
And she's giving me the eye
So I figured this is my chance for a little fun
You know, piece of Pisces

But she said things I just couldn't fathom
She was too deep, seemed to be under a lot of pressure
Boy, could she drink
She drank like a . . .
She drank a lot

I said "What's your sign"
She said "Aquarium"
I said "Great, let's get tanked"

Think I had a wet dream
Cruisin' thru the Gulf Stream
Ooh Ooh Ooh Ooh
Wet dream

I invited her to my place for a midnight bait
I said "Come on baby, it'll only take a few minnows"
She threw me that same old line
"Not tonight, I gotta haddock"

And she wasn't kidding either
Cause in came the biggest, meanest looking haddock
I'd ever seen come down the pike
He was covered with mussels

He came over to me and said
"Listen, shrimp, don't you come trollin' around here"
What a crab
This guy was steamed
I could see the anchor in his eyes

I turned to him, I said
"A-balone, you're just being shellfish"
Well, I knew it was going to be trouble and so did Gil
'Cause he was already on the phone to the cods

The haddock hits me with a sucker punch
I catch him with a left hook
He eels over
It was a fluke but there he was
Lying on the deck, flat as a mackerel
Kelpless

I said "Forget the cods Gil
This guy's gonna need a sturgeon"
Well, the yellowtail was impressed with the way I landed her boyfriend
She came over to me, she said
"Hey, big boy, you're really a game fish
What's your name"
I said "Marlin"

Think I had a wet dream
Cruisin' thru the Gulf Stream
Ooh Ooh Ooh Ooh
Wet dream

Well, from then on we had a whale of a time
I took her to dinner, I took her to dance
I bought her a bouquet of flounders
And then I went home with her
And what did I get for my trouble
A case of the clams

Think I had a wet dream
Cruisin' thru the Gulf Stream
Ooh Ooh Ooh Ooh

Wet dream
Cruisin' thru the Gulf Stream
Ooh Ooh Ooh Ooh

Wet dream
Cruisin' thru the Gulf Stream
Ooh Ooh Ooh Ooh

Sadly (not trying to be racist here) there's an influx of wealthy Chinese immigrants into western Canada. They arrive in their thirties and forties, never having sat behind the wheel of a car and take expensive driving courses that guarantee success by bribing the driving examiner. Because they don't know any English, they're allowed a "translator" for the written exam, who really just takes the test for them.

Judging from the BMW, this was likely one of those.

There have been several crackdowns on this activity, but it continues and many licenses were handed out before the authorities started to get serious about it.

Many many moons ago when I was seventeen we started doing life drawing at my school. there were a few models they used but the most common two were a lady about thirty, nice looking, slightly plump but attractive and Alan. Alan was a thirtyish year old gay guy who was just very average looking. Physique wise he was 5' 10" or so, maybe just under 200lbs, slightly balding, wore glasses. Nothing offensive but as a seventeen year old lad I obviously started off preferring drawing boobies to schlong.

Thing is, I always drew better when drawing Alan because I just wasn't as distracted I suppose. He was a really nice guy and we got to know him pretty well over the year or so we did the class. I'd grown up doing a lot of sailing at a club with communal showers for the men so naked guys were no mystery to me. I wasn't offended by him and he certainly never did any poses like the guy in this video.

Fast forward ten years and I'm at a friend's house party. I know about half the people there and there's a lot of people from her work that I don't know. She worked at a medieval castle as a wench for their banquets and a lot of her actor colleagues were there. I kept catching the eye of this guy, forty years or so old, 5' 10" and just over 200lbs, pretty bald. You know when you get that feeling that you know someone? The face is familiar but you can't for the life of you remember where you've seen him before. Worse was the feeling that it was someone I knew quite well, not just someone I'd bumped into in the supermarket or something like that.

He looked puzzled by me too and we eventually got talking in the kitchen about where we knew each other from. We went through everything, from what we did for a job, where we'd worked, where we lived and drew blanks every time.

We went further and further back in time until he stopped, grinned and said 'you didn't go to Woodland's school did you?'

In that instant I knew exactly who he was, laughed and completely without thinking blurted 'Alan! I didn't recognise you with your clothes on!'

Of course it went quiet and I had to explain to my wife why I didn't recognise the gay guy with his clothes on (not helped by the fact that it was an all boys school). I still have paintings and drawings of him in my attic somewhere, which my wife was 'thrilled' to be shown!

Life drawing is great, and you don't need a 'fit' or attractive model. Anyone will do, in fact the more normal the better I think. It helps you look at what's there rather than any sort of ideal you might have in your head.

No man, that body armour, those boots...I'd harvest the bones of a thousand murdered infants to build our bed if that's what it took. Do you think that's what she wants?

I had to go rewatch this. It's practically perfect. Not an origin story, no romance subplot, no compromise. Just a day in the life of Judge Dredd. Love it, but my favourite Dredd story was told in rhyme:

They'd been waiting there since nightfall for the Sharks to come along,
They knew they'd have to pass this stretch of street.
So they'd sharpened up their stickers and they'd brought along their bars,
And they were wearing steel-tipped stompers on their feet.

There was Big Frank Zit and Faceache, Crazy Joseph with his spear,
The Dixon Boys were there and Billy Rat.
Ike the Spike had brought his sister with her homemade ghetto blaster,
And the Ghoul had put new rivets in his bat.

Now it wasn't nothin' personal that they had against the Sharks,
Any bunch of dead-end spugs would do.
'Cos there was nothing they liked better than to mash and bash and stomp,
Same as any normal Mega-City juves.

"A-rumbling! A-rumbling! We love to go A-rumbling!
("AAAH!")
We love to lay in ambush in the night!
("AAAA!")
A-rumbling! A-rumbling! The Zits were born for rumbling!
(SMAK!)
There's nothing we like better than a fight!"
(KRAK!)

Then a headlight pierced the darkness - a rider gaunt and grim,
Daystick drawn and ready in his hand.
     The chin belonged to Dredd,
     And the voice as well, which said:
"You creeps can do your rumbling in the can!"

"It's just one judge!" cried Cindy Spike and opened with her blaster -
"I'll send him back to Central in a sack!"
(SPOING! "AAAAAAA!")
But Dredd's bike absorbed the blast and laid her on the street,
With tyre marks running right across her back.

Then the judge got down to business and his daystick rose and fell,
Striking out at every head he saw.
For though the Zits launched the attack, the Sharks were fighting back -
And self defence is no defence in law!

As the heap of bodies mounted, Big Zit could see his Waterloo,
Waiting just one station down the line.
Oh, sure, he loved to rumble - but he preferred to be on top...
"Let's scram and live to fight another time!"

("Dredd to Control! We got forty-plus juve rumblers fleeing east through Bernstein. Zits and Sharks, back-up required."
"Wilco, Dredd!"
"Med squads and meat wagons to Moreng Alley. Estimate twenty casualties, more to follow."
"Control to all units area Bernstein. YPs on the run."
VRMMMM!
"Pick 'em up!")

In the space of sixty seconds there was a judge on every street.
From watching bays others scanned the slab -
"We got two Zits runnin' fast though the Tamblin Underpass!"
"Krupke here! I got 'em in the bag!"
(THUNK! THUNK!)

They cut them off at Sondheim and they mopped them up on Wood,
On Pedway 12 they corned Crazy Joseph.
He tried to make a stand - but a spear's not worth a damn,
When it's up against a judge's high explosive.

The Ghoul surrendered quietly, he didn't have much choice -
Ike the Spike tried to scale the sector wall -
("Save your bullet, he'll never make it." "Oh no! AAAAAAAAAAAAH!" SPLATT!)
The Dixon Boys all copped it when they tried to hitch a ride,
On the 2020 Zoom to Bernstein Halt.

Big Zit thought he'd play it clever, the law was everywhere,
The safest thing for him to do was hide -
Dredd tracked him down on infrared - "Don't bother to come out!"
"The best place for trash like you is inside!"

In minutes flat they'd caught them, every Shark and every Zit.
To Dredd it fell to ladle out the years -
"Twenty years apiece for Cindy Spike, Billy Rat and Ghoul."
An extra ten left Big Frank Zit in tears.

For Faceache minus half his face, for the hapless Dixon Boys,
For Ike impaled so cruelly on his spike,
For Crazy Joe with his gaping hole, there'd be one final rumble,
Along the last conveyor belt at Resyk.

A-rumbling! A-rumbling! They loved to go A-rumbling!
But the Zits will go A-rumbling no more!
A-rumbling! A-rumbling! They loved to go A-rumbling!
But they should've known they couldn't buck the law!

It's officially known as a report on the "Measurement of the Duration of a Trendless Subsample in a Global Climate Time Series." In lay-speak, it's a study of just how long the current pause in global warming has lasted. And the results are profound:

According to Canadian Ross McKitrick, a professor of environmental economics who wrote the paper for the Open Journal of Statistics, "I make the duration out to be 19 years at the surface and 16 to 26 years in the lower troposphere depending on the data set used."

In still plainer English, McKitrick has crunched the numbers from all the major weather organizations in the world and has found that there has been no overall warming at the Earth's surface since 1995 - that's 19 years in all.

During the past two decades, there have been hotter years and colder years, but on the whole the world's temperatures have not been rising. Despite a 13 per cent rise in carbon dioxide levels over the period, the average global temperature is the same today as it was almost 20 years ago.

In the lower atmosphere, there has been no warming for somewhere between 16 and 26 years, depending on which weather organization's records are used.

Not a single one of the world's major meteorological organizations - including the ones the United Nations relies on for its hysterical, the-skies-are-on-fire predictions of environmental apocalypse - shows atmospheric warming for at least the last 16 years. And some show no warming for the past quarter century.

This might be less significant if some of the major temperature records showed warming and some did not. But they all show no warming.

Even the records maintained by devoted eco-alarmists, such as the United Kingdom's Hadley Centre, show no appreciable warming since the mid-1990s.

Despite continued cymbal-crashing propaganda from environmentalists and politicians who insist humankind is approaching a critical climate-change tipping point, there is no real evidence this is true.

There are no more hurricanes than usual, no more typhoons or tornadoes, floods or droughts. What there is, is more media coverage more often.

Forty years ago when a tropical storm wiped out villages on a South Pacific Island there might have been pictures in the newspaper days or weeks later, then nothing more. Now there is live television coverage hours after the fact and for weeks afterwards.

That creates the impression storms are worse than they used to be, even though statistically they are not.

While the UN's official climate-scare mouthpiece, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), has acknowledged the lack of warming over the past two decades, it has done so very quietly. What's more, it has not permitted the facts to get in the way of its continued insistence that the world is going to hell in a hand basket soon unless modern economies are crippled and more decision-making power is turned over to the UN and to national bureaucrats and environmental activists.

Later this month in New York, the UN will hold a climate summit including many of the world's leaders. So frantic are UN bureaucrats to keep the climate scare alive they have begun a worldwide search for what they themselves call a climate-change "Malala."

That's a reference to Malala Yousafzai, the Pakistani schoolgirl who was shot in the head by the Taliban after demanding an education. Her wounding sparked a renewed, worldwide concern for women's rights.

The new climate spokeswoman must be a female under 30, come from a poor country and have been the victim of a natural disaster.

If the facts surrounding climate-disaster predictions weren't falling apart, the UN wouldn't such need a sympathetic new face of fear.

You keep thinking that then if you'd like. As I watched this, when he asked what card he was thinking of I thought to myself 'nine of hearts'- NO SHIT

Somewhere embedded in his technique is the answer to the suggestion
Metaprogrammings' a motherfucker.

Anyone else??

Or wait....Maybe it's simply having seen this before and the 9 of hearts was already there, locked into the folds of the hippo-campus/cerebral cortex highway? Don't recall ever having seen this before...

Either ways...If David Blaine came over, I'd prolly tell him what Han Solo here told him BEFORE he had a chance to mind-fuck me..The difference? It wouldn't be......"ACTING!!!"

Seriously though, y'all really thought that Blaine was being rudely and cruelly ejected from his home?? C'mon people...suspend your disbelief for the sake of your hearts and get over yourselves....all he said was the 'eff' word.

"Next up: Blaine will bury himself in the permafrost of Antarctica in a steaming-hot bubble-bath of human blood and for forty days and forty nights with but a single meal-worm to snack on for the duration. When he rises from his ghoulish and self-imposed sarcophagus he will have drunk all the contents of the bathtub...But first, this commercial interruption to your body's natural vibrations."