Four-peat

Alright. I promise the next post won't have moving pixels. Only words. Cold, heartless words.

A joke

When I read this joke online and chuckled, I suddenly realized my arts and science education was not entirely for naught:

Werner Heisenberg, Kurt Gödel, and Noam Chomsky walk into a bar. Heisenberg turns to the other two and says, "Clearly this is a joke, but how can we figure out if it's funny or not?" Gödel replies, "We can't know that because we're inside the joke." Chomsky says, "Of course it's funny. You're just telling it wrong."

God bless Feschuk

The continuing riddle surrounding that lumbering useless contraption that passed for Paul Martin's communications team was how the hell they figured out how to suppress Scott Feschuk's genius. My current theory involves an IV drip, some relatively complex pharmacology, and a rubber ball gag.

Latest piece of evidence: Feschuk finishes Jim Flaherty's sentences.

Found wisdom

Found printed on a package of border sauce ("hot," no less) obtained this afternoon at that garden of gastric delights, Taco Bell:

Save a bun.
Eat a Taco.

Goodnight, everybody.