It's been suggested by doom and gloomers that those who wish us ill have been aided immeasurably by the advances of technology and adventures in high-fidelity. We've come to see the Forces of Evil and even the Forces of Not Especially Nice always depicted with ear buds and cell phones as they up-link images of kidnapped kittens to the UN Secretary General while threatening massive mayhem unless their demands are met.
I think someone is missing a good cross-promotion by not signing an endorsement deal involving, as an example, the Somali pirates and one of the satellite phone manufacturers, because when you see footage on the evening news, the former is always brandishing the latter, along with a Kalashnikov. I'm wondering if it's sold as an ensemble or if you can buy it a piece at a time and how soon before Bravo has a show about those involved in creating the look and when will Andy start to talk about it on WWHL?
The crazies have their own websites-though for my money they could also have their own domain and separate Internet (someone call me Al on line two or drop him a note c/o of current tv) and I don't think any of the rest of us would mind. And I'm talking all the crazies, no matter the religion or the politics. Put 'em in a bag, hit the bag with a bat, and you'd hit the right one. Sir Winston Churchill was beyond right, "a fanatic is one who cannot change his mind and will not change the subject." We made ourselves a pillar, we just used it as a crutch.
Sometimes the reliance on state of the art and beyond technology can create an Icarus effect and the moment of too-close-to-the-sun becomes instead forever-buried-beneath-the-earth, when the tool turns on the user and shifts from fulcrum to petard. As was the case, it seems, about five weeks ago in Moscow's Red Square. Everyday's the End of Days, for some. I don't even want to imagine what the carrier charged for early termination fees, much less to use the amphitheater.
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
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