the vastness of space

"Imagine the number of Uranium-238 atoms that would fit between the ears of Cal Thomas. I would type that number for you right here and now, although I fear that I would run out of zeros before I ever reached the end. Yet, this is still a finite number, unlike the seemingly infinite quantity of columns that Cal Thomas has churned out in his finite lifetime. And like his columns, when placed upon the cosmic scale, they would weigh very little, but they would power NASA probes far into the future. I refer, of course, to the precious Uranium-238 atoms, not to the useless Cal Thomas columns." - Dr. Harry Spangler, NASA There are things in life that I enjoy for their almost complete lack of substance. Like rice cakes. And Mary Worth. Just how long can that bitch stand there with that look of stupid apprehension splashed across her face? (A: At least half a century according to Wikipedia). Mary Worth is like a long repetitive Philip Glass composition with an electric banjo solo in the middle - every once in a while, something will happen, and that something seems vividly interesting for all the nothingness that surrounds it. Cal Thomas is Mary Worth's unexpected gentleman caller. Ostensibly conservative, Cal's thoughts and words are as vapid as the look on Mary's face. I like to read his columns and then try to see if I can recall a single thing he said. But once in a while - once in a while - he amuses me. Like his latest column, where he becomes the very last pundit on earth to weigh in on Obama's Nobel Peace Prize. "Like the Pulitzer Prize for journalism, along with the Oscar and Emmy for film and television, the Nobel Peace Prize is an inside job in which liberal, wishful-thinking humanists give awards to each other. For all I care, the Nobel Committee could have given their useless (except for the money) prize to Homer Simpson." Hey, Cal, you forgot to include the Grammy. Talk about your sour grapes! Perhaps this column should be titled 'Why won't nobody give me a prize?' Since you're including the Pulitzers, let's look at a couple winners in your professed field of journalism. Michael Ramirez. William Safire. Paul Gigot. George Will. Vermont Royster. Charles Krauthammer. Traitorous bastards all, I assume. But back to that Peace Prize, just how big a badge of dishonor is it? "Iran's president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad could win the Nobel Peace Prize in an instant if he announced his god had told him not to eradicate Israel, or usher in Armageddon... [May I have some more?] Same with Osama bin Laden. The United Nations would welcome him as a speaker and the Nobel Committee would award him their top prize if he would announce he no longer believes in terrorism and has become a follower of the Dali Lama or some other 'acceptable' pseudo-deity. [Which brings us to the obvious conclusion that] The Nobel Committee believes George W. Bush is evil, but apparently not bin Laden or Ahmadinejad." Mary's gentleman caller has just dropped his trousers and is waving his cock like a sock puppet. "The Nobel Committee hates Israel, too. And this is because its members, and like-minded male wimps around the world, idolize Michael J. Fox instead of John Wayne and find their role models in the liberal ladies of 'The View', not in muscular characters like Jack Bauer (and Chloe, who gets it) on '24'." Thank you, Cal. At least Chloe gets it.