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"The question as to who was a better singer, Bon Scott or Brian Johnson, may never truly be resolved. However, our analysis suggests that in terms of affecting efficient decision making among listeners, Brian Johnson was a better singer. Our analysis has direct implications for policy and organizational design: when policy makers or employers are engaging in negotiations (or setting up environments in which other parties will negotiate) and are interested in playing the music of AC/DC, they should
choose from the band’s Brian Johnson era discography."
You can't make this stuff up.
At least according to Condé Nast Traveler's 45-judge panel, that is. It's a great list, including some usual suspects (Twain, Newby, Markham, Bowles, and Chatwin), as well as some enticing reads I have yet to assay (Peter Fleming, Rosemary Mahoney, and lija Trojanow, are on the "right now" list). There's altogether too much Theroux for my taste—my idea of hell would be traveling anywhere with that misanthropic hair-shirt of a man.
I can't stop playing "Umo" by OOIOO. El Jeffie Wong thinks it reminiscent of the Slits. I'm not sure I hear that, but then I was never a fan. Until I saw their album cover, I thought they were named after a cheap beer.
Hat tip to the always fascinating Cartoon Brew.
Last week, my wonderful coworkers completely surprised me with a delicious birthday cake.
"Angela's calling everyone into her office for a quick meeting," Rosemarie told me.
"Are we fired?" I asked.
"Yeah," she laughed.
Inside, everyone was gathered around a small table, smiles on their faces, the birthday cake lighting the room with its flickering candles. "Happy Birthday!"
I couldn't believe it, really.
"Make a wish!"
"I wish Elizabeth would come back."
Afterwards, Rosemarie returned to my office and said, "You really deserve…
"Prescription Diet I/D made me big and strong," sez Huckleberry, who demanded to be paid in kibble.
To those who say the Bush Administration hasn't added anything meaningful to American society I say pshaw. He and Cheney have turned lying into an artform. Not lying exactly but a finer, more refined version of not telling the truth. It's still completely self-serving and wrong but now, if you have little or no education and/or sense of any kind, and you’re easily scared, these pronouncements sound vaguely plausible. It's all about the spin. The truth, in that view, is now relative. Everything is shaded and prismatic. Move several steps to the left and everything seems to look different.…