"When I do not want to say things in real life I often say them here." — Mimi Smartypants
When Sexy Sally started warning B-58 Hustler crews about engine fires in the 1960s, it was a major innovation, and using a woman’s voice was considered a brilliant stroke: human factors researchers thought a woman’s voice—rarely heard on the radio and never on the intercom—would cut through other chatter and get the crews’ attention.
This morning our volunteer coordinator sent an all-hands be-no* message about injecting politics and personal opinion into the information we share with museum guests.
Trump, in obstructing justice, can’t be held accountable for it because as we all know he’s unable to control his temper and autocratic instincts and can’t help lashing out. We elected an infant; therefore it’s okay when he behaves as one; therefore This Is Fine.
Monday last I had to haul my miserable hacking feverish runny-nosed voiceless self home from Pima Air and Space Museum after the first tram tour of the day, leaving my co-volunteers in the lurch. I made up for it yesterday with four nearly back-to-back tours, one every other hour, from the first tour of the day to the last.
Bettie Page’s hips didn’t stick out like that, is all I’m sayin’.
Halfway through the first tram tour I lost my voice. And so, for the first time in the eight years I’ve been volunteering at PASM, I bailed on my co-volunteers and went home.
“The future was coming nearer, one relentless goose step after the next. Juliet could still remember when Hitler had seemed like a harmless clown. No one was amused now. (“The clowns are the dangerous ones,” Perry said.)” —Kate Atkinson, Transcription Transcription by Kate Atkinson I first read about this novel on the literary website The […]
Of course the real glitch in the matrix is Trump and the inescapable fact that a subset of the population thinks he’s the greatest. That subset includes former friends of ours, who couldn’t have shocked us more had they revealed themselves to be cannibals.