Seeing Orange

I've seen about five minutes of that reality show with the mobster's family... Growing Up Gotti, I think. No comment here, since I couldn't possibly have anything new to say about that nonsense. But I do wonder if anyone has told those kids that their skin bronzer is turning them orange. They look like Oompa Loompas.

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Speaking of orange, Slate has an article about that Overstock.com commercial . You know, the one with the redhead against an all-white background, which no master control op anywhere can seem to color balance...


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We leave for Arizona on March 17, St. Patrick's Day. We'll need to rent a car, and I hope I can succeed in telling them my name is Pat McCrotch, Gird Maloins, or Tug Magroin.

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I think we should make our mark while there. We might catch some Giants action. Considering the good access fans in spring training have to players, I believe we should attempt to steal Barry Bonds' cap. It'd create a scene, make the news and all, and we could show them that he wears a size big enough to accommodate Shrek. Your skull doesn't just start growing when you're 38. He's so juiced.

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If you and your partner wanted to have a child, how would you feel about potentially being able to select genetic traits? A man and woman can produce endless variations of their genetic material during conception, but would you be open to tailoring the combinations if possible? Select the nicest eyes, genes for height, intelligence? Do you think it'd be good for humans if we could produce only the children as close to perfect as we could make them?

It's got a certain Arian feel, eh?

But what if, instead of selecting genetic traits, you merely had the option of rejecting some? If you could pinpoint genes for, say, cystic fibrosis, would you choose not to utilize that particular genetic recipe?

Dwarfism?

Alcoholism?

Homosexuality?

Based on this sort of selection, how many of us in existence today might potentially never have been born if these options had been available in years past?

It's not so far-fetched.

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On that note... time to strap on the Belo genital clamps. Good luck with Monday, ya'll...