That Loving (and I Want Custody of the Kids) Feeling

Divorce. Huh. What is it good for. Huh, yeah. Absolutely nothing. Rallying the political troops to moral arms.

That liberal rag, so vehemently eschewed by those in flyover country, has an informative story about a the divorce rate. It's falling. It's been falling for decades. Still high, but 53% is better odds than Blackjack.

The story of ever-increasing divorce is a powerful narrative. It is also wrong. In fact, the divorce rate has been falling continuously over the past quarter-century, and is now at its lowest level since 1970. While marriage rates are also declining, those marriages that do occur are increasingly more stable. For instance, marriages that began in the 1990s were more likely to celebrate a 10th anniversary than those that started in the 1980s, which, in turn, were also more likely to last than marriages that began back in the 1970s.

The narrative of rising divorce is also completely at odds with counts of divorce certificates, which show the divorce rate as having peaked at 22.8 divorces per 1,000 married couples in 1979 and to have fallen by 2005 to 16.7.


Clearly, the decline in divorce and the strengthening of marriage is due to:

1) Regan's $2.2 trillion of deficit spending, particularly his Strategic Missile Defense program and it's effects of weeding out the godless Communist infiltrators that were destroying our country from within by screwing up our censuses ("Sorry Honey, there is nothing left, I spent it all on Star Wars." (please note the pun on words (note that is redundant (ahhh, I am drowning in a sea of self-reflexivity)) because, you see, Lucas came out with his in the 80s too));



2) the influx of blow in the 80s ("No problem, Honey, whatever..." cut to the getting high sequence in Requiem for A Dream.)



3) the rise of the internet, specifically pets.com ("I would divorce, but I just got a 50 lb bag of dog food delivered to my front door--your infidelity and our money worries matter no longer.").



(I learned to open and close parentheses like that in Excel.)

Grand Canyon Rim to Rim

After Harry & Bruce's death-defying trip last year, I jumped at the chance to experience a 24-mile rim-to-rim run myself.

A brief executive summary:


We started about an hour before this, 5:30 AM, running by the light of headlamps.


The trail stretched out before us, like a snake flattened by a car and smooshed onto the side of a limestone canyon stained red from the soil washing down from higher layers blood of patriots.



"What I learned in [the] Boston [Marathon]," Harry said, "Is to fart at every break is that unflattering photos can be twisted around by jerks with internets."






































Not as picturesque as one would expect.


I forgot not to stick a knife in my left knee the night before the race. Significant knee pain the whole day. I am leaning against the rock because I couldn't stand very well on my left and I favored my right leg so much during the day that by this time (with only ~2500 vertical feet to the top) it was close to cramping. Seriously, I would expect that the knees of a computer-bound analyst would be better conditioned than this...


Liz gesturing the international sign for I would rather head back the other direction.

8 hours and 40 minutes later.

It Has Been A Rough Morning

Some mornings, I just can't quite get started. Where I have been this morning:

Inappropriate 9/11 imagery from the Middle East

Researched all the people who survived falling out of planes

Looked into Cow Patty Bingo--betting on where cows take a dump

Good book, recommended by Uncle Harry, coming movie from Cohen Brothers

Busty Fem Bots

Looked at some cute things, including shorn alpacas

Why cats always land feet down

I haven't defenestrated in days, let alone iconic defenstration

Why I should not kill myself

Toast lands butter down + cat lands feet down = perpetual motion

Instructions on how to deal with mountain lions, note to bonny

Wes Anderson sells out

Story of my childhood, hat tip to other non-favorites out there

Geographic Tetris = Statetris

Hot or Not? For Apes

Pirate Ships Foreshadow Democracy

How do you survive a fall from a plane? "Much will depend on your attitude. Don't let negative thinking ruin your descent. If you find yourself dwelling morbidly on your discouraging starting point of seven miles up, think of this: Thirty feet is the cutoff for fatality in a fall. That is, most who fall from thirty feet or higher die. Thirty feet! It's nothing! Pity the poor sod who falls from such a "height." What kind of planning time does he have?"

Bacon Wallets

Car mechanics not uncomfortable with underwear models

How to beat the government agencies tracking me

A hot model lying in the hallway for nine minutes playing with a cat. Oh, art!

It's been a long morning.

My Kind of Guy

Rather than purchasing goods made by overseas laborers—who are often forced to work in unsafe conditions for low wages—I have kidnapped and enslaved a group of neighborhood children and chained them to a bench in my garage, where they make my clothes and build my gadgets.

Bringing Sexy Back, Where Sexy = Long Underwear

So I watched the Justin Timberlake HBO special. Why not? He is sort of a new Michael Jackson and you don't have to wonder if the women he dates are schemes to throw the prosecutors off his Neverland Ranch sin pit.

The man puts on a show and sweats a great deal. However, my fellow TV-mates and I wondered why his knees were getting soaked by the end of the show. Why, of all places, the knees before the rest?

At the end of the show JT revealed that he wears underwear that goes to his knees, hence the sweat soaking through his khakis at that point. Not only that, but JT says he wears two pairs of these underwear. All I am saying is that he is Mormon and twice as righteous as you.