No Pay, Great Exposure
Covered with an antic face, to fleer and scorn at your solemnity
-
Respondent Patrice Seibert’s 12–year–old son Jonathan had cerebral palsy, and when he died in his sleep she feared charges of neglect because of bedsores on his body. In her presence, two of her teenage sons and two of their friends devised a plan to conceal the facts surrounding Jonathan’s death by incinerating his body in the course of burning the family’s mobile home, in which they planned to leave Donald Rector, a mentally ill teenager living with the family. To avoid any appearance that Jonathan had been unattended, Seibert’s son Darian and a friend set the fire, and Donald died.
Missouri v. Seibert, one of the cases I’m recording today.
Humans can be terrifying.
-
Photoset reblogged from Assimilate this!
Favorite Insurrection Commentary Moments | Marina Sirtis has no idea what’s going on
-
Choose the place where you stand
You best get comfortable
This might take quite a long time
You will die where you land
Your thoughts are horrible
You will be punished for themIs there another side to your story?
Is there something you’re not telling me?I feel the cool water rushing over me
Into the sea
I close my eyes
I think of all the places that I’d rather be
That’s all I have nowThat’s all I have now.
Pinback / “Sherman” / Information Retrieved, Part A -
-
In honor of today’s announcement that webOS will be open-sourced, I wait patiently for developers to port the OS to the pictured device.
Please? I have space-dollars.
-
Partnership for a nuclear-free social life.
Let’s everyone just stay inside the lines.
-
Video reblogged from Futurepaul
As a matter of fact, tiny Julia Stiles, I can jam with the console cowboys in cyberspace.
“Ever read Neuromancer?” via BuzzFeed
(Source: youtube.com)
-
This morning, I walked past two men in colored bandanas, white wifebeaters, and distressed cargo pants. They were imposing guys, one of them over six feet tall, the other much shorter but more muscular - a compact, lean, dangerous silhouette against the cold cinderblock. Both wore black ski masks that obscured their faces, only their eyes and mouths visible in the dim blue glow from a nearby clip-light. Clenched in their fists were a crow bar and an iron pipe.
As I passed, the tall one said to his friend, in a gentle sing-song voice with a British accent, “You know, it’s my sister’s birthday today.”
The shorter one replied, in a congenial, matter-of-fact baritone, “Well, happy birthday to your sister, then.”
I was backstage preparing for show #4 of our production of Romeo & Juliet. These were my castmates, in the border town street-thug wardrobe of the show, looking for all the world like two terrorists … having the most innocuous of conversations. In the vernacular of the high-school kids who were then filing into the audience seating, “I LoL’ed.”
This profession can be frustrating and elusive to an infuriating degree … but it also provides some delightfully absurd moments not easily found elsewhere.
Moments like this make it worth it.
