Author - Chris Weagel

Chris Weagel writes about the intersection of technology and parenting for Wired Magazine. No he doesn't. He can't stand that shit.

Nightcap 07/25/13

Western Civilization is an endless loop of C-tier 1970s Hanna Barbera cartoons. Mostly those that featured talking office furniture.

Nightcap 07/24/13

The Working Class have their pensions stolen.
Wall Street gets bonuses.
Cartoons found to cause obesity.
Every day is the Fourth of July.

Nightcap 07/23/13

I have 80 pairs of cowboy boots, strategically hidden throughout the house, filled with money. Primarily Canadian dollars but some Paraguayan guaraní too. You know, that money with the giraffe on it.
And I also have this nervous condition that turns my leg blue and fills me with shame.
Buying and posessing things will fill this void. Same effect you get from gym class and belittling others.

Nightcap 07/22/13

We try to avoid graphic imagery of people eating. Things like that, and old sweat pants, remind them of their mortality.
It's better to keep things light. Keep things friendly. Let that plane crash without you. Never stare and don't ask. At worst you should be somebody's forgotten uncle.

Nightcap 07/21/13

The Historic Commission has decided that something must be done about the Hen House Roof up at Old Flemerfelt Farm. It's about nearly caved in. It's ugly, it's dangerous. It is not historically accurate. The hens wouldn't recognize it. They voted that Hen House Roof Action be taken. Agenda Item 12. 4 ayes, 2 neighs, 1 abstention. That was Charles Line. He left early out of protest after he was refused a seat on account of not wearing a tie. Third time this term, by the way. The trouble with the roof was it would just fill up with holes. The school children would come through and they'd take out their anger on the hen house with rocks and little whips made of Hickory branch. Which was all in keeping with the custom of the time. In this county, you learned never to voice...

Nightcap 07/09/13

If your goals center around straight and even arrangement of garden tools, hanging shovels and hoes and rakes in rows along the garage wall, making sure they’re all the same distance from the floor, waking up at night to check this height again and again with a pocket ruler you picked up at the hospitality hut near the Ohio line, and rearranging and re-hanging said tools if their spacing is found to be deficient, you will go about life unmolested. No one will care about your private activities and most will approve, if pressed. Society is structured to see you succeed in taming yard instruments. This stuff has been voted on. We’re all in agreement. You have our blessing. If, however, you’d prefer to give away swimming lessons for free, really truly for free, accepting...