Do you think the junkyard will let me play Taps when they crush it?

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1 Effective Way to Say Hello

Mornin’ all.

I was just trying to look through the news, and it hit me that even mainstream, “serious” news sites are now clickbaiting with numbers.

10 Times the IS was More Terrifying Than Hitler

14 Ways Hillary’s Policy Changes Could Affect Everyday Life

5 Reasons You Need to Pay Attention to the Refugee Crisis

Gah. Is this really what we’re becoming?

…and is it a bad thing?

3 Important Points to Ponder While You Drink Your Coffee

1) Humans are lazy. We are extraordinarily lazy. In the animal world, we take the cake. It’s this laziness that makes us evolve. There is a constant push, our only true innate drive, to be creative and think outside the box for the sole purpose of coming up with new solutions to get our asses out of as much work as possible.

The sharpened stick was invented because killing dinner with a dull thud of an unsharpened stick was slower than killing it with a pointy stabby stab.

The wheel was invented because Caveman Ugh was sick of busting his caveballs trying to tug and pull and lug that stabbed dinner back to the cave.

Horses were tamed to do all sorts of neat things that allowed our ancestors to sit back and let someone else do the work.

…and on and on and on. Every invention we’ve come up with has been designed with one purpose: Make life for humanity easier.

Is it any wonder, then, that the news would eventually be presented in bullet point format? It’s quick, it’s efficient, and it speaks to the deep laziness in all of us.

2) News sites are lazy. Dude, it is SO much easier to make a list than it is to sit down and write a coherent article. Plus, in a bullet point style presentation, things like grammar and syntax are apparently unnecessary.

3) Reading a condensed list makes you feel smarter faster. I don’t know if the PuffHo really put much thought into this trend it widely started. I’m sure bullet pointing the news started out as a way to save space and time. I highly doubt they ever really put much thought into the psychology. However, they stumbled on a real way to make people feel more confident and sure of not only the facts of a situation, but their overall retention of knowledge afterwards.

It’s an unintentionally brilliant way to make people keep going back to their website, I’ll give them that. I’d much rather keep reading news on a site that makes me walk away feeling like I learned something, even if I didn’t really learn a damned thing.

Which leads me to…

3 Ways Bullet Point Reporting is Ruining the News

1) Bullet point news would work well if the information presented was accurate…

2)…and well written. There is no need to forgo grammar, spelling, and proper framing of a coherent thought simply because there is a number in front of the sentence. Gah. This is dumbing us down. This aspect of this style of clickbait reporting is making the average person feel smarter by making them dumber. And it’s all because…

3) HUMANS ARE LAZY. Modern reporters are lazy. Modern editors are lazy. And all this laziness sucks because people have been programmed by clickbait “journalism” to expect yet another fun filled list of anti-facts NOW NOW NOW. It’s too much work to be fast, efficient, AND accurate. Jeez. What do you want from reporters? It’s almost as if you expect accurate, reliable, dependable summations of important events that could have an impact on the world around you. Pipe dream much?

I think it’s going to stay around for awhile, so I suppose we best get used to it. Life swings on a pendulum, though. There will come a time in the not-so-distant-future when post modern hipsters will find the old style of reporting the news through well-researched, carefully crafted essays just the bees knees. It’s a cycle. We just have to wait until the pendulum swings the other way.

Until then, I suppose we must embrace it. Here goes.

1 Thing That Epically Sucked in the House of Bethie This Week

Muh car died.

The first one that I really lead the resurrection team to bring back to life. *sniff*

Here’s the sad tale of woe. The Mr. took Soppy to work.

(Er, that was the car. We named her the Sopwith Llama. A Sopwith Camel was an old timey fighter plane before new fangled fighter jets flew onto the scene. But, the kids like llamas, soooo…)

He called me from his business of employ to tell me that “Sop’s acting weird.” We hoped it was a momentary lapse in functionality, or that she was just feeling annoyed.

“Uh, Bethie. I hate to interrupt…”

Liar.

“…but, it’s just a car. It can’t feel anything.”

Yes. Yes it can. And anyone out there who doesn’t think that cars have moods, including temper tantrums and hissy fits, simply hasn’t been paying attention to their car. Shame on you. Go out and sit in your car and apologize for ignoring it all this time before it proves me right. It helps if you rub the dashboard, but don’t take it too far. Don’t make it weird, bro.

Anyway, my guy came home late. That was probably the only reason he made it home at all. There was a distinct lack of traffic and, for the most part, he had one clear last run with Soppy. Before he left work, he checked the fluids and the oil. Everything looked good under the hood. Proper fluid and oil levels. So he wished on a star and headed home.

He got within a couple miles of our house and “running rough” turned into her dumping all her coolant into the oil and seizing just as she pulled into our drive.

As far as close calls go, it doesn’t get any closer than that.

Soppy didn’t go quietly. The tail lights were upgraded LEDs that were insanely bright, a modification we did because it was a black car that was driven largely at night, and the Mr. was sick of drunk rednecks riding his bumper. She also began to belch huge plumes of thick, white smoke of doom. The bright taillights caught in the billowing clouds like Soppy was spewing forth the fires of hell itself. The Mr. told me that when he looked in his rear view, all he could see was a fiery wall of clouds.

Man I wish I was there to see it!

What we had was catastrophic parts failure. The head gasket went all at once. At that point, there was no saving her.

Oh, I know we could have (and still technically could) take her to a shop and have them completely go through it cleaning out the cappuccino colored oil/coolant from the engine block, retool the head, and replace all the gaskets. Or, we could buy a crate engine to drop in. However, it’s not worth it. I love that car, but there comes a point when the cost exceeds the value.

She’s done for. And today I must strip the parts to sell. I must rob the grave of my beloved beastie. As difficult as it is, I know it’s for the best. Through organ donation, Soppy can live on.

*hats off in a moment of silence for the brave and noble sacrifice of my Sopwith Llama*

*clears throat* *wipes tear*

Yes. Well. Moving on.

We picked up a cheapie from craigslist yesterday. Boy, I don’t know what folks did before craigslist when their cars shit the bed. The Mr. got his automotive shake-up at about ten on Thursday night. By eight Friday morning, I had already made arrangements to go see a $500 hoopdie that’ll get us through until we can really find a good replacement.

It’s a VW wagon. It needs stuff. It comes with most of the stuff it needs. The guy selling it was in the middle of repairs when a buddy offered him a Jeep that he really wanted. Nice guy…he threw in all the parts, including a new hood, for free. The engine has high miles but sounds so quiet that my guy kept thinking he stalled it…always a good sign.

Today, my tinkering cohort (our youngest) is going to help me strip parts from Sop,¬†then pep a few things up on the newbie. I think the hubby is leaning toward the name Hobbes for the VW. Why Hobbes? We had a $400 Neon once that lasted us THREE YEARS that we named Calvin, and after the 45 minute drive home yesterday, he got out and said, “Boy does that remind me of Calvin!”

Of course, you can’t call two cars the same thing. And if you do “the second” or “junior”, the auto is instantly insulted. Rightfully so!

The only thing that’s giving him pause about the new moniker is that he feels the VW is female. I asked him why he must saddle the name “Hobbes” with gender constraints. He gave me a *blink**blink*. Heh. I love it when he has no response.

Sop gets¬†dissected today, and Maybe-Hobbes gets spruced up. It seems a bit sadistic to fancify Hobbes next to Soppy’s corpse, but really, what can I do? I have to get one ready for the scrapper and one ready for the road.

It’s the circle of life, friends.

Hukuna machina.

Thus concludes the Musing for Saturday, October 17, 2015. Holy shit. I babbled so much about other things that I never actually got to talk about what I started writing to talk about in the first place. Damn bullet pointing getting me off track. Eh, it’s probably for the best. It was a fairly controversial point of view that would most definitely NOT win me friends or influence people. It would have been fun, though. Hm. Guess I’ll save it for another day…