God is NOT an HMO

AP: Parents pick prayer over docs; girl dies

WESTON, Wis. - Police are investigating an 11-year-old girl's death from an undiagnosed, treatable form of diabetes after her parents chose to pray for her rather than take her to a doctor.

Prayer: the ultimate post hoc fallacy. If you pray, and you get what you prayed for, then God answered your prayers. If you pray, and you don't get what you prayed for, then, well, that's just God's will. No matter what happens, it's construed to prove that prayer works. Irrefutably beyond the grasp of logic, either way!

These frightfully daft parents chose to pray instead of getting their daughter to a doctor, and now their daughter is dead from a treatable illness. Is that God's will?

A more appropriate term might be manslaughter.

Anyone who refuses a safe and preventative medical treatment on religious grounds deserves the illness that consequentially befalls him. And anyone who refuses a child such a treatment on religious grounds deserves to be prosecuted for neglect to the fullest extent of the law.

This is well beyond the purview of religious freedom. Religious freedom protects one's personal views and actions only insofar as they do not harm others. If you choose to die of measles or diabetes because you hold the idiotic belief that an imaginary man in the sky is a better medical provider than your local hospital, then Requiescat In Pace, you moron. But if your foolish beliefs cause the death of a child, then you'll have a long time to come to terms with that by praying in your prison cell.

Is that really a preference you want to advertise?

Some people who especially hate tailgaters can be seen to have on their cars a bumper sticker that reads:

"Unless you're a hemorrhoid... GET OFF MY ASS!"

This is almost witty, until you consider the bumper sticker's implication that hemorrhoids are a perfectly acceptable thing to have on one's ass. Personally, I'd rather have the tailgater.

"Good" Friday

What's so "good" about a Friday that commemorates someone being nailed to a piece of wood and left to die?

Christians, of course, would respond that the crucifixion of Jesus was good because it allowed for the salvation of mankind. But isn't that a fantastically morbid event upon which to found a system of religious and ethical beliefs?

Christianity may advertise itself as being about the "resurrection and the life", but in reality it is entirely obsessed with death. Not only does an ancient form of execution constitute its founding myth and central symbol, but the main message of Christianity is that this life does not matter: it is all a prelude to the hereafter, the life to come, heaven - which is essentially a child's fantasy land in the clouds taken seriously.

When you combine irrational religious fervour with an obsessive death wish, you get behavior that is indistinguishable from being retarded or insane:

BBC: Philippines Crucifixions

Millions of people in the mainly Roman Catholic country of the Philippines celebrate Easter every year, with some penitents following in the footsteps of Jesus Christ even up to the point of being nailed to a cross.

True, there are millions of Christians around the world who don't indulge in self-flagellation and mock crucifixion. But most of them do go to a building every week to wallow in their own spiritual unworthiness and hear sermon after sermon about a man who was tortured to death for their benefit. Isn't that a kind of spiritual self-flagellation and intellectual crucifixion? I fail to see the "good" in any of it.

That is the question

YouTube: Patrick Stewart on Sesame Street

Patrick Stewart is a phenomenal Shakespearean actor; I saw him in Macbeth this past weekend, and he suited "the action to the word, the word to the action" like none other. In this short clip from Sesame Street, he explores an ontological conundrum that has troubled humankind through the ages.

Men are from Mars, Women are from... Stupid?

The Washington Post: We Scream, We Swoon, How Dumb Can We Get?

I can't help it, but reading about such episodes of screaming, gushing and swooning makes me wonder whether women -- I should say, "we women," of course -- aren't the weaker sex after all. Or even the stupid sex, our brains permanently occluded by random emotions, psychosomatic flailings and distraction by the superficial. Women "are only children of a larger growth," wrote the 18th-century Earl of Chesterfield. Could he have been right?

What is it about us women? Why do we always fall for the hysterical, the superficial and the gooily sentimental?

I swear no man watches "Grey's Anatomy" unless his girlfriend forces him to. No man bakes cookies for his dog. No man feels blue and takes off work to spend the day in bed with a copy of "The Friday Night Knitting Club." No man contracts nebulous diseases whose existence is disputed by many if not all doctors, such as Morgellons (where you feel bugs crawling around under your skin). At least no man I know. Of course, not all women do these things, either -- although enough do to make one wonder whether there isn't some genetic aspect of the female brain, something evolutionarily connected to the fact that we live longer than men or go through childbirth, that turns the pre-frontal cortex into Cream of Wheat.


Charlotte Allen wonders - apparently, in all seriousness - whether women have some kind of a predisposition to be the stupider and weaker sex. At first glance it appears this is nothing more than a simple logical fallacy: she assumes that the glaring mental deficiency so manifestly displayed in herself must be present also in the rest of her sex. But she doesn't stop there - in one short article, she takes the reader on a whirlwind tour of hasty generalizations, half-baked arguments drawn from arbitrary examples, and conclusions that are laughably and patently wrong.

Her argument is so imbecilic that it's self-satirizing, largely because she backs it up with such absurdly trite and meaningless examples. Oprah? Sappy romance novels and soap operas? Swooning over cute polticians and rock stars? Bad driving? Yes, this really is the hard evidence she brings to prove women's intellecutal inferiority. Her argument is based on nothing more substantial than tired old jokes from a bad stand-up routine about differences between men and women.

In an attempt to be more convincing, though, she appeals to the authority of experts:

Depressing as it is, several of the supposed misogynist myths about female inferiority have been proven true. Women really are worse drivers than men, for example. A study published in 1998 by the Johns Hopkins schools of medicine and public health revealed that women clocked 5.7 auto accidents per million miles driven, in contrast to men's 5.1, even though men drive about 74 percent more miles a year than women. The only good news was that women tended to take fewer driving risks than men, so their crashes were only a third as likely to be fatal.

So, women get into 11% more accidents, but their accidents are 66% less fatal? Sounds to me like women are better drivers.

It gets worse:

The theory that women are the dumber sex -- or at least the sex that gets into more car accidents -- is amply supported by neurological and standardized-testing evidence. Men's and women's brains not only look different, but men's brains are bigger than women's (even adjusting for men's generally bigger body size). The important difference is in the parietal cortex, which is associated with space perception. Visuospatial skills, the capacity to rotate three-dimensional objects in the mind, at which men tend to excel over women, are in turn related to a capacity for abstract thinking and reasoning, the grounding for mathematics, science and philosophy.

Apparently Ms Allen thinks that brain size determines intelligence. Male brains are bigger; therefore men are smarter. That argument appears sound - until you consider that the brains of Neanderthals were about 10% larger than those of homo sapiens. A bigger brain does not mean a better brain.

Ultimately, with regards to this and all of her examples, it's a simple case of selective evidence. It would be just as easy to write an article parading the apparent mental shortcomings of the male sex. Women are worse at navigation? Ok, but there are more women enrolled in higher education than men, and they tend to get better grades. Women watch sappy TV shows and cry about superficial nonsense? Ok, but men act functionally retarded when they attend sporting events, and they exhibit constant paranoia about the relative size of their genitals. Women swoon over sexy politicians and stars? Well, men are the reason that pornography makes up so much of the internet.

Self-oppressing idiots like Charlotte Allen take subversive glee in expressing a viewpoint that is against the grain of conventional wisdom and political correctness. In the end, though, her argument is nothing but a series of outrageously misogynistic opinions strung together by scattered and unconvincing examples. She's clearly not the brightest crayon in the box.

Fortunately, her breathtaking fatuity is the exception, and not the rule.

Jared

Some Subway commercials have been airing recently to congratulate Jared, the company's ex-XXXL spokesman, for celebrating his tenth year at a respectable weight.

Only in America can someone be lauded as a hero for the simple reason that he's no longer a fatass. Jared is an icon to the millions of overweight and obese who dream that one day they, too, can shed their supersized waistlines.

Why does Jared deserve congratulations? What about the millions of the rest of us who never become whales in the first place? Where's our million-dollar endorsement deal and laudatory commercial?

Du bist, was du isst

You may be familiar with the old adage 'you are what you eat', but you have to read it in the original German to really get the joke. It was originally coined by the nineteenth century German philosopher Ludwig Andreas Feuerbach. In his essay Concerning Spiritualism and Materialism, Feuerbach wrote:

"Der Mensch ist, was er isst." (The man is what he eats.)

It's a clever pun: in German, 'ist' means 'is', and 'isst' means 'eats'. Feuerbach, a firm atheist, was not trying to give dietary advice, but rather was making a fiercely materialist point about the biological, non-divine status of man.

How not to be an agent of germ warfare

YouTube: Why don't we do it in our sleeves?

If you think it's proper to cover your mouth with your hand when you sneeze or cough, you need to watch this CDC-approved video and learn the correct way to stop spreading germs.

Witch

True story: once a rather pathetic man found that he couldn't maintain an erection, but he didn't want to accept his loss of virility as the due course of nature. So he accused a poor illiterate woman of being a witch, and blamed his impotence on her sorcery. She was sentenced to death.

In what year did this take place? 1440? 1693?

Try 2005.

BBC: Pleas for condemned Saudi 'witch'

The illiterate woman was detained by religious police in 2005 and allegedly beaten and forced to fingerprint a confession that she could not read.

Among her accusers was a man who alleged she made him impotent.

Witchcraft.

It's the year 2008, and people are still being sentenced to death for witchcraft.

Sadly, backwards nonsense like this can still pass as legitimate in certain parts of the world, thanks to religion's enduring power to advocate even the most astonishing kinds of ignorance and injustice.

It's no coincidence that the witch trials of Salem and the Spanish Inquisition were also motivated by religious belief. As H. L. Mencken pointed out, "Any half-wit, by the simple device of ascribing his delusions to revelation, takes on an authority that is denied the rest of us." Would accusations of witchcraft in the modern day be taken as anything but ridiculous, if it weren't for that they are sponsored by a religion?

Atoms

"At sea level, at a temperature of 32 degrees Fahrenheit, one cubic centimeter of air (that is, a space about the size of a sugar cube) will contain 45 billion billion molecules. And they are in every single cubic centimeter you see around you. Think about how many cubic centimeters there are in the world outside your window - how many sugar cubes it would take to fill that view. Then think about how many it would take to build a universe. Atoms, in short, are very abundant.

"They are also fantastically durable. Because they are so long lived, atoms really get around. Every atom you possess has almost certainly passed through several stars and been part of millions of organisms on its way to becoming you. We are each so atomically numerous and so vigorously recycled at death that a significant number of our atoms - up to a billion for each of us, it has been suggested - probably once belonged to Shakespeare. A billion more came from Buddha and Genghis Khan and Beethoven, and any other historical figure you care to name.

"So we are all reincarnations - though short-lived ones. When we die our atoms will disassemble and move off to find new uses elsewhere - as part of a leaf or other human being or drop of dew. Atoms, however, go on practically forever. Nobody actually knows how long an atom can survive, but according to Martin Rees it is probably about 10^35 years - a number so big that even I am happy to express it in notation."

Bill Bryson, A Short History of Nearly Everything, p. 133-134

Dirty Money

In a simultaneous admission of weakness and betrayal of principle, Hillary Clinton pumped five million dollars of her own money into her campaign yesterday.

Blithely calling her massive self-donation a "loan," Hillary said that she wrote herself a check because "I believe in this campaign and I think the results last night proved the wisdom of my investment."

The subtext here is undeniable. She believes in her own campaign, but thinks the belief of others hasn't been sufficient. She considers her campaign a wise investment, but one risky enough that she needs to shore it up with her own cash.

But most outrageous is the message Hillary is sending: I can buy my way to the White House. If I'm not getting enough support from the people, I'll just make up the difference with my own bank account. I'll get to the Oval Office with or without you - I've got the cash to do it. The Presidency has a pricetag, and I can afford the down payment.

Barack Obama's campaign also got a financial boost the day after Super Tuesday. While Hillary cut herself a check for five million dollars, Barak raised six million. It came not from his bank account, but from hundreds of thousands of his supporters.

The messages of each campaign are clear. Hillary thinks that the White House can be bought. Barack is demonstrating that it must be earned through the support of the people.

Bag It

Every two minutes, one million plastic bags are used worldwide. That's 42 billion bags per month. Yes, you read that correctly. About 100 plastic bags are used yearly for every person on the planet.

Because of their flimsiness, most people dispose of plastic bags after one or two uses. Because of their chemical composition, the planet is stuck with them. You may have only needed it to carry your Cheerios, bread, and milk to your car that one night, but that bag will sit on the face of the Earth for a long, long time.

We live in a bagging culture. In America, there is a tacit understanding among all retailers that transactions only become complete when the purchased item is placed in a plastic bag for the customer.

It's always unnecessary, and sometimes it's downright stupid. You go into a music store, and buy a CD. They place it in a bag that is only slightly larger than the CD itself. Is it supposed to be easier to carry the CD in a little bag than it is to just carry the CD in your hand?

I was once in Staples, and bought a tube of superglue. It weighed 0.7 oz. They tried to give me a tiny bag for it. The bag probably weighed half as much as the purchase itself, and would have afforded me no advantage whatsoever in transporting the burdensome item all of the fifty feet to my car. (I put it - how did I ever think of this? - in my pocket instead.)

The fact of such prepostorous wastefulness is apparently lost on retailers, who will rush to bag any item, no matter what the size or shape or weight, once you've bought it.

It need not and should not be this way. Take the case of Ireland, as reported in this article by the New York Times:

In 2002, Ireland passed a tax on plastic bags; customers who want them must now pay 33 cents per bag at the register. There was an advertising awareness campaign. And then something happened that was bigger than the sum of these parts.

Within weeks, plastic bag use dropped 94 percent. Within a year, nearly everyone had bought reusable cloth bags, keeping them in offices and in the backs of cars. Plastic bags were not outlawed, but carrying them became socially unacceptable — on a par with wearing a fur coat or not cleaning up after one’s dog.

“I used to get half a dozen with every shop. Now I’d never ever buy one,” said Cathal McKeown, 40, a civil servant carrying two large black cloth bags bearing the bright green Superquinn motto. “If I forgot these, I’d just take the cart of groceries and put them loose in the boot of the car, rather than buy a bag.”

Today, Ireland’s retailers are great promoters of taxing the bags. “I spent many months arguing against this tax with the minister; I thought customers wouldn’t accept it,” said Senator Feargal Quinn, founder of the Superquinn chain. “But I have become a big, big enthusiast.”

It's not hard. It really isn't. I started keeping canvas tote bags in my car a couple of years ago, and I haven't used a plastic bag since.

People are lazy, though, and have come to feel entitled to a useless bag as part of their shopping experience, so we need a tax like Ireland's. Of course, at the beginning, customers and shopkeepers alike will whine. But they will change their minds. Soon retailers can stop ordering bags, and shoppers will forget why they ever put up with the annoying things clogging up their trash in the first place.

America needs such a tax more than anywhere else. It's this country that puts a gallon of milk in two plastic bags, instead of having you just carry the jug by the handle (which is, presumably, designed for carrying). It's this country that puts items into a tiny bag when they could just as easily go into your pocket. And it's this country that will set the record in leaving behind these flimsy monuments to shortsighted indolence and stupidity.

Politician

Politician, n. An eel in the fundamental mud upon which the superstructure of organized society is reared. When he wriggles he mistakes the agitation of his tail for the trembling of the edifice. As compared with the statesman, he suffers the disadvantage of being alive.

-Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary

Romney

Mitt Romney, I think, is the Republican twin of John Kerry. They look alike, and both come from Massachusetts. Both have been unable to shrug the label of 'flip-flopper'. They both have charisma issues and a propensity for awkward gaffes. They both come off as stiff and uncomfortable when wearing anything more casual than a suit, and their attempts to connect with working class folks feel gimmicky and insincere. And if Romney were to win the Republican nomination, I think his presidential campaign would, like Kerry's in '04, often define itself in opposition to the other party rather than on its own terms. And we know how well that worked out for Kerry.

The Fallacy of Meat

NY Times: Rethinking the Meat Guzzler

Growing meat (it’s hard to use the word “raising” when applied to animals in factory farms) uses so many resources that it’s a challenge to enumerate them all. But consider: an estimated 30 percent of the earth’s ice-free land is directly or indirectly involved in livestock production, according to the United Nation’s Food and Agriculture Organization, which also estimates that livestock production generates nearly a fifth of the world’s greenhouse gases — more than transportation.

My challenge:

1. Read this article.
2. Give me one - just one - good reason for eating meat or fish (outside of a survival situation). And no, "it tastes good" doesn't count.
3. Explain how you can claim to give a shit about the environment at all and continue to support one of the most ecologically destructive processes in the world.

Anyone?

This just in: druggie girl doing drugs again

I take a certain pride in staying deliberately aloof from much of American pop culture, but that's difficult when the line between pop culture and news is blurry at best.

I keep seeing news stories about how someone named Amy Winehouse smokes a lot of crack. I hear she also sings?

Jekyll and Hyde

The world of political smear tactics presents a difficult question: how do you smear your opponent without being smeared yourself for running a negative campaign?

Barack Obama has gotten around it by, well, not smearing.

Hillary Clinton, on the other hand, has a different tactic. She has been using her husband as a mercenary. Bill does the smearing, and gets media attention because he's Bill Clinton. And Hillary gets to maintain her image as a positive, clean-fighting politician.

This technique has not been subtle. But it is irritating, and it lends the otherwise idiotic and usually sexist question of who's really running for president - Hillary, or Bill for round two - more credit than it deserves.

Bill, of course, has the right to his opinions. He also has the right to voice those opinions in public support of his wife. But the division of labor that has been set up so transparently between him and Hillary exemplifies just the kind of cynical prevarication that we've endured under this administration for eight years. I don't think we need it for another four.

YouTube: Educating the Next Generation of US History Scholars

YouTube: George Washington (New link here)

He'll save children, but not the British children...

Now they're slinging mud over how much mud they're slinging

CNN: Bill Clinton complains about Obama's attacks

"I've got before me a list of 80 attacks on Hillary that are quite personal by Sen. Obama and his campaign going back six months that I've had pulled," he said, speaking to CNN contributor Roland Martin on WVON-AM's "The Roland S. Martin Show" based in Chicago, Illinois.

What -- is this elementary school? Oh right, worse - it's primary season.

Only a few more weeks of intraparty squabbling. Then we can look forward to eight months of interparty scrapping! God bless America.

Pleonasm

Ambrose Bierce defined the pleonasm as "an army of words escorting a corporal of thought." It's basically a fancy term for redundancy. Like, for instance, if one was to say, "At the ATM machine, you need to enter your PIN number," which stands for "At the Automatic Teller Machine machine, you need to enter your Personal Identification Number number."

Every kiss begins with... the exchange of material wealth

You know the commercials. The ones in which the thoughtful man surprises his wife for a holiday or anniversary with a piece of diamond jewelery. Her mouth opens in ecstatic disbelief, she looks at him, her eyes mist over with grateful affection, their lips meet...

And then the singsong voiceover: "Every kiss begins with Kay."

Think for a second about what the cynical bastards at Kay Jewelers are actually saying. Every kiss begins with Kay: all romantic love is founded upon the exchange of expensive gifts. Not attraction. Not shared dreams or common interests. Not even sex or the base desire to procreate and raise a family. No - Kay wants you to remind you that the true meaning of love is found in useless, shiny scraps of carbon.

There are plenty of other vomit-inducing commercials around this time of year, but I don't know of any others that make the outrageous claim that the very existence of romantic affection owes itself to the consumption of their product.

Oxymoron of the day: 'Creationist Biologist'

Reuters: Christian biologist fired for beliefs, suit says

A Christian biologist is suing the prestigious Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution in Massachusetts, claiming he was fired for refusing to accept evolution, lawyers involved in the case said on Friday.

The zebrafish specialist said his civil rights were violated when he was dismissed shortly after telling his superior he did not accept evolution because he believed the Bible presented a true account of human creation.

If an auto mechanic, a district attorney, or a real estate agent were to get fired for being a creationist, that's discrimination.

But if a marine biologist gets fired for being a creationist, that's just because the moron is too incompetent to perform his job.

It is perfectly acceptable that Nathaniel Abraham was fired for his religious beliefs. His beliefs not only indicate loose epistemic standards - which should discredit any scientist - they also come into direct conflict with the foundations of his scientific field. Just as no physicist can perform his job without belief in the theory of gravity, no responsible biologist can hold that his literal, word-for-word belief in the biblical creation story dislodges the theory of evolution. With some logical stretching, an advocate of intelligent design might be able to fuse his beliefs with evolutionary theory and still be a competant biologist, but no one who is daft enough to disregard a towering amount of essential scientific knowledge in favor of a puerile ancient myth can call himself a scientist.

In its concluding paragraph, the article reports that Abraham is now a biology "professor" at Liberty "University", the pseudo-academic shithole in Virginia founded by Jerry Falwell. Liberty University: where students and faculty alike come to insulate their god-given backward beliefs against the heretical facts and logic that run so rampant in today's world.

Teddy Bears and Prophets

Gillian Gibbons, the innocuous English primary school teacher who was nearly executed because her Sudanese students had the subversive temerity to give a stuffed bear the most popular name in the world, is back home in England. For the time being at least, she is safe from irrational dogma and religious hate.

This ridiculous story is reminiscent of the cartoonist row a few years back, when a European cartoonist was burned in effigy and had assassination decrees on his head for the simple act of drawing an image of Muhammad.

These two situations resulted from the same injustice: non-Muslims were being held accountable, and punishable, for transgressions of Islamic law.

Religion is like a social contract: if I choose to observe or convert to a given religion, I explicitly and implicitly agree to follow the laws, protocol, and moral standards set out by that religion. But those within the religion have no right to carry out an inquisition against outsiders who break arbitrary religious laws they never agreed to follow in the first place.

Also, although I admit that I have only a cursory familiarity with the Sharia, I don't know of what law exactly it is that prevents children from naming an inanimate toy bear after Muhammad. Muhammad is, after all, not only the name of the prophet, but the most common male name in the world. Besides, can you imagine the Catholic Church threatening to kill someone for naming a rubber ducky Jesus? The worst that would happen would be that the Pope would issue an edict against the deification of bath toys.

The Quietly Disappearing Senator

Trent Lott has announced his resignation from the Senate!

Even though this story broke only yesterday, it was completely invisible today on several mainstream news sites I checked. Even that notorious liberal rag The New York Times had this story buried in a list all the way at the bottom of their politics page. I couldn't even find the story listed on the politics page of CNN, although they made room for "Was Obama too honest about drug use?" and, amazingly, "Fifth graders' take on politics and the issues."

Why isn't this story getting more press? A senior Republican Senator is resigning before the end of his term, thereby ending a 35-year career, and it's regarded as a mere footnote? So much for the liberal media!

One FEWER

There is a new ad campaign on TV that's raising awareness for cervical cancer. Launched by the pharmaceutical company Merck, which manufactures an HPV vaccine, the "One Less" ad campaign features young women defiantly proclaiming, "I want to be one less woman who will battle cervical cancer. One less." The website also announces that "You could be 1 less life affected by cervical cancer."

While I applaud cancer treatments, I loathe illiterate mishandlings of the English language. Apparently the good people at Merck forgot to check Strunk and White before making their commercials.

'One less woman' is nonsense; it's the equivalent of saying 'fewer water' or 'many money'.

'Less' is a word for non-numerical quantity: "I want there to be less cancer in the world," or "I have less money than she."

When discussing numbers, however, 'fewer' should be used, as in "I want to be one fewer woman who will battle cervical cancer," or "I want there to be fewer commercials that employ bad English."

So, to sum up: LESS cancer, LESS water, or LESS money, but FEWER women, FEWER commercials, or one FEWER life.

"You could be 1 less life affected by cervical cancer." Laudable sentiment. Terrible writing.

Rice and Vocab

Free Rice
http://www.freerice.com

My kind of website: learn vocabulary while donating rice for the hungry! The edifying AND ethical way to procrastinate at work!

Christianity as antiquity

"When we hear the ancient bells growling on a Sunday morning we ask ourselves: Is it really possible! this, for a Jew, crucified over two thousand years ago, who said he was God's son. The proof of such a claim is lacking. Certainly the Christian religion is an antiquity projected into our times from remote prehistory; and the fact that the claim is believed - whereas one is otherwise so strict in examining pretensions - is perhaps the most ancient piece of this heritage. A got who begets children with a mortal woman; a sage who bids men work no more, have no more courts, but look for signs of the impending end of the world; a justice that accepts the innocent as a vicarious sacrifice; someone who orders his disciples to drink his blood; prayers for miraculous interventions; sins perpetrated against a god, atoned for by a god; fear of a beyond to which death is the portal; the form of the cross as a symbol in a time that no longer knows the function and the ignominy of the cross - how ghoulishly this all touches us, as if from the tomb of a primeval past! Can one believe that such things are still believed?"

-Friederich Nietzsche, Human, All-Too-Human

"Dollars," but no sense

DOLLAR MAX
YOUR "DOLLAR" BUYS "MAX" HERE

Another purposeless use of quotation marks with an unintended humorous effect. Are they trying to poke sarcastic fun at the weak US Dollar? Or does they just not write that good?

Happy Halloween

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

-Edgar Allen Poe, The Raven, 1845

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