Posted on 07/31/2015 11:49:41 AM PDT by Slings and Arrows
The time has come to take action against thread hijackers.
Let me begin with an example of thread hijacking:
Like most Freepers, I am pro-life. Abortion and and euthanasia appall me, and marketing the results even more so. I support candidates who oppose the culture of death, and cheer when it is thwarted.
I also do not find it necessary to mention these facts on EVERY. FREAKING. THREAD.
There is a certain type of Freeper, though, who has no such restraint. For these zealots, any thread that deviates from the pro-life cause, no matter how trivially, is a heresy that must be immediately suppressed.
You are shocked by cruelty to animals? I guess that means you couldn't care less about the cruelty of THE MILLIONS OF CHILDREN ABORTED EVERY YEAR!!!!!
You lost a beloved pet? Why can't you mourn THE THOUSANDS OF ABORTED BABIES WHO DIED THE SAME DAY?!!!!
Your car shredded its transmission and you're looking at thousands of dollars in repairs? Why aren't you thinking about THE BABIES WHO WILL NEVER GROW UP TO BE AUTO MECHANICS BECAUSE THEY WERE ABORTED?!!!!
(OK, maybe I made that last one up.)
Arguing with these people is pointless. It's the same principle as wrestling with a pig - you just get muddy and the pig enjoys it. Similarly, trying to convince them that they are being rude is a waste of time - THE CAUSE is far more important little things like courtesy and respect.
So, what can we do about it?
We can get drunk.
I hereby propose The Thread Hijack Drinking Game. The rules are simple: When a poster tries to hijack an unrelated thread to his or her pet cause, you 1) reply to the hijack attempt by quoting the text in question, followed by the word "DRINK!", and 2) Take a drink (or any volume) of your favorite beverage (alcoholic or non-alcoholic). Moderation is suggested on animal cruelty threads to avoid alcohol poisoning.
This game will not, I admit, solve the thread hijacking problem. But after a certain number of attempts we will no longer care.
And if anyone is offended by my little proposal, I can only say...
DRINK!
We don't know. We lost contact with him shortly after that. We did get one partial radio message after that, but all we could make out was "laz", and "going to the mattresses".
My childhood has probably been banned, too.
I wonder if it would be possible to save women the pain of labor and delivery by downloading and 3-D printing the baby.
Could be quite a business opportunity.
Labor and delivery is nothing compared to the tediousness of being pregnant.
Knowing Laz was involved is explanation enough.
Can’t help with that part.
Then there’s no point. Don’t want the pain? Anesthesia!
I seem to have missed something.
I’ve been occupied elsewhere...doing...nothing...
Hi Face,
A few fireworks tonight.
Friday night and across the weekend will be the peak.
The Town has its organised event on Saturday.
Most of the people around this area do like a good blasting session, if the sky is clear the man in the moon had better duck. Quack.
It has to do with an unfortunate massacre in the Hundred Acre Wood, I think.
What fun! There’s nothing like explosions to liven up a dreary early-November.
Great poem ,Bob.
Poetry normally leaves me cold, but that worked its magic. :)
The entire celebration sounds like lots of fun. You’ll have to keep us posted!
<3
I’ve been there, to Hundred Acre Wood, and I really quite like it. Didn’t care for the massacree, though!
I guess that’s why my business ideas never make me rich.
I don’t even want to talk about the epic failure of my “boomerang ammo” venture. I just thought it would be great if people could re-use their bullets.
The M25 and the M6 are in the pub having a pint together and they are discussing who is the hardest, toughest motorway out of the two of them. The discussion soon degenerates into an argument.
“Well, I am obviously the hardest”, says the M6, “I have hundreds of thousands of cars on me everyday and I go on for miles and miles.”
“That¹s nothing,” replies the M25, “Everyday I have hundreds and thousands of cars parked on me everyday and I handle it like it was nothing.”
Just as he said that, Red Tarmac walks into the pub. The M6 runs off and hides under a table. The M25 looks on, a little confused.
Red Tarmac stands at the bar and orders himself a pint. He swiftly drinks his pint and leaves. Once he has left M6 comes out from under the table.
“What was all that about?” asks the M25, “I though you were supposed to be a really hard motorway.”
“I am” replies the M6, “But he’s a cycle-path!”
Missing something - that’s pretty much describes my life.
And my mental capacity.
Just one fry short of a Happy Meal, that’s me.
If it makes you feel better, none of my brilliant ideas has every resulted in riches, either.
I haven’t given up on the idea of “Relationship Terminator” for my retirement career, though. I would handle the actually terminations, and Anoreth would keep everyone involved from killing me.
Sounded like there might have been an illicit compound running small arms to Eeyor’s band of rebels involved.
That was really British.
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