You might be pleased to know that, through a connection in the NSA — where I almost went to work several years ago, but that’s another story — I have managed to obtain an advanced, “beta” copy of the new SAT test.
It’s not that I don’t enjoy those actors’ work or admire their talent. I do. I have no problem going to see their movies. I’ll just skip the annual, sanctimonious propaganda fest known as the Academy Awards.
With mid-term elections still more than eight months off, this column might be premature. Then again, I’m already hearing political ads on the radio, so maybe my timing isn’t so bad — especially since I hope to start a grass-roots movement.
If this column seems a bit iffy, feel free to blame it on my lack of exercise.
We can observe this growing societal narcissism, too, on social media sites like Facebook and Instagram. I have Facebook “friends” (some of them family members) who seemingly post a selfie a day.
Spending time on Facebook tends to make me angry —mostly because of all the political memes people post. Whether I disagree with the poster’s politics or agree and think our way of life faces imminent destruction, either way I’m angry, often for hours afterward.
Among the startling revelations that President Obama shared in last week’s State of the Union address was this gem: Some people make more money than others.
At the risk of sounding like an old fuddy-duddy, which I am not — well, maybe a little — I’d like to address some of the drawbacks of personal technology.
By now it should be ridiculously obvious to anyone who has not been living in a cave, or getting all their news from CSNBC (which is kind of like living in a cave), that neither of the two major political parties in this country represents the interests of middle-class Americans.
I don’t have anything against Mike Smith or Matt Ryan. I like them both, and I appreciate the stability and credibility they’ve brought to a franchise that has been the butt of jokes for much of my lifetime.
For the record, this is the 10th installment of “Stupid things,” meaning I’ve been spouting inanities now for more than a decade. Please know, I couldn’t have done it without you. My readers clearly rank among the most idiocy-tolerant people in the world, a distant second to Nancy Pelosi voters.
Each era produces its own slang. Some terms demonstrate staying power and become part of the lexicon, while others are relegated to the dustbin of linguistic history.
Call me out-of-date, but I’d much rather do things in the time-honored way: a nice dinner, in a room with decent lighting, where I can take my time over my food, enjoy some good conversation, and perhaps not end up with special sauce on my sweater, followed by a long-anticipated movie to which I can devote my full attention.
We are flying out to Boise for the holidays and taking our three sons, which means that for Christmas this year everyone’s getting a plane ticket and a small bag of Delta peanuts. Instead of letting Santa decide who’s been naughty and nice, we’ll have to leave that determination to the TSA.
We all know the nanny-staters, with which this country is rife and who in fact now seem to be running things, have long been opposed to fun.