I had an ’86 three-door LXi that I put over a quarter of a million miles on, all over the west. It still had its original clutch when I sold it, and never needed any major engine work (only problem that caused a roadside breakdown other than timing belts was a sheared distributor shaft once down in Orange County on the 405).
I thought they went downhill in the nineties — they got too big and too soft, and you couldn’t get a stick shift with a six cylinder–what was up with that? As far as I can tell, as far as Honda goes, the Civic is the new Accord.
“Star Trek” makes faster-than-light travel look easy, but according to new calculations by Italian physicists, a warp drive could easily create a black hole that would incinerate any passengers on a space craft and then suck Earth into a black hole.
Back in the early nineties, when I unsuccessfully tried to get a weightless experience business started, this was one of the markets for it. It took a lot longer than I hoped or expected back then, and I didn’t make it happen, but I’m glad that someone did. And I see that she used one of the designs that Misuzu had the contest for as a wedding dress.
Of course, as usual, almost everyone gets this wrong:
The idea of these flights seems to be that the plane makes 16 huge dips from 36,000 feet to 24,000 feet to simulate zero gravity.
The weightless effect doesn’t just occur on the descent — it occurs through the entire parabola, up and down. If it only happened on the way down, the weightless period would only be half the time that it actually is.
I never owned a B, because I learned my lesson from my first car, an MGA — don’t buy a convertible.
There are people with hair who can manage convertibles, but I am not one of them. My hair looks bad enough without going through a seventy MPH uncontrolled blower. Or even slower, for that matter.
So I bought a 1967 (pre-emissions, pre-uglybumpers) MGB-GT. It got me through high school. I gave girls rides home in it. It was my preferred car for dates over my dad’s company-car GM behemoths. I loved it in many ways.
But it never got me laid. Sometimes, a car just isn’t enough.
It’s not what’s for dinner, generally, in the US, but it’s pretty popular in the rest of the world. I’ve only had it a couple times myself (in Ethiopian restaurants).
But an interesting space-related point is that goats are a lot better for space colonies than beef, being easier to manage, more efficient producers of meat from carbs, needing less room, having more protein (and good milk). Keith and Carolyn Henson raised them in Tucson (in town) in the seventies, along with rabbits. They wrote an early paper on space colony agriculture, presented at the first Princeton Conference, based on their own experiences.
Obama needs to start putting it on the line in fights against the banks, the energy companies and the healthcare industry. I never thought I’d say this, but he needs to be more like George W. Bush. Bush was all about, “You’re with us or against us.”
Obama’s more like, “You’re either with us, or you obviously need to see another picture of this adorable puppy!”
Can he win re-election without the leftist douchebag vote? The most annoying thing about Maher, of course, is that he slanders libertarians by calling himself one.
FAQ advice from Jay Nordlinger, on Che, what classical music to listen to, and how to be a journalist. A sample:
I wrote to a Latin America scholar — a superb one — and he said the following: “At one time, I was collecting stuff about Guevara to write a piece of my own, but the subject is so nauseating . . . as if I had to write an article explaining why the Nazis were bad.” Yet such articles are necessary: because the myth-making about Che is strong and mesmerizing. My scholar friend continued, “Are you aware of the fact that there are busts and statues of Che Guevara not just in Central Park but in Vienna and other European capitals?”
Yes, but those busts and statues can be taken down, mentally — with truthful accounts and assessments. With fantasy-puncturing. There is plenty available, for those who wish to see (to see beyond the T-shirt, that is).