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Tuesday, January 22, 2008

The State of the World, With Sad Ending

Well, everyone seems to be frothy about the Essex Engine Plant again, with some scuttlebutt that the Ministry of Industry [no link] is entertaining ideas from Ford and our beloved Henderson checking the temperature of his readers and reminding us that the Liberals bailed out Chrysler almost thirty years ago.

I'm sick of talking about this, so allow to paraphrase a rant I went on to the Lady over dinner the other night: As far as the Big Three are concerned, they owe Windsor nothing. And if it comes down to it, they will cut their losses and set up shop somewhere else with a pat on the city's back and a nostalgic comment about the good run they had, before heading to Mexico. Unless the unions are willing to bend substantially more than they have in the past, that ship's gonna keep taking on water.

I'm no fan of pot, but I'm less a fan of propaganda: turns out the weed you're smoking is no stronger than the skunk your parents were on.

In an effort to make me feel better after the sad 'nine bald eagles dead in Alaska' story from last week, a story from Iowa, where bald eagles are super common in the winter.

Overachiever earns every girl scout merit badge possible, ensuring a prom night spent at home alone.

Apparently people are very annoyed that Jonny Greenwood [of Radiohead]'s soundtrack to 'There Will Be Blood' was ruled ineligible for a best score Oscar on some weird technicality. I say he's in frigging Radiohead and he'll live, but that's just me.

It's cool, I have a violent reaction to Sean Paul, too.

Son of a bitch. Heath Ledger died.

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