Seeing the Unseen

Here’s a good read for your bus ride:

Well, that’s seven-year-old boys for you. Had I been so inclined, I was certainly smart enough to have determined that one could not build a Polaris Nuclear Sub with missiles and firing torpedoes and all the rest for $6.98. All $6.98 would buy you in 1967 was a cardboard box painted like a submarine.

I believed it – like so many of my cohorts – because I so desperately wanted to believe it…and the X-ray Specs, and especially those damn Sea Monkeys with their little briefcases and hats and aprons. What heartless son of a bitch wrote those ads? I hope he chokes on his brine shrimp, the bastard.

Score one for epigenetics.

Sirtris labs, growing rich by inventing the immortality drug?

Sounds good to me.  I’m slowly converting to a point where CR (caloric restriction, with adequate nutrition) is comfortable.  In fact, I overate the other night, to a level that previously would have been unremarkable, and the proof that my stomach has gotten smaller came on Saturday morning, when my body chose to let me know in no uncertain terms that my buddy’s kick-ass barbeque will be devoured in slightly more civilised portions…

but if you could pop a pill and get the same effects while eating like a hog… that’d be something to consider.  I do love them buffalo wings and sausage…

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