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Post by everso on Aug 4, 2011 22:52:29 GMT
Virginia Tech Lockdown - False Alarm, Media Frenzy or Hoax? Tweets from students include:@kevin_eike: I saw a guy carrying what looked like a sandwich. He's gone now. Everybody watch out for the sandwichman. Hoax Verdict: At least we got to see what great security exists at the Tech and what fun the students are. Is he anything like Candyman? (I still can't pluck up enough courage to look into a mirror and say 'Candyman' three times)
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Post by trubble on Aug 5, 2011 13:15:47 GMT
;D
Mini-trubs was scared stiff about the sandman when she was a kid.
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Post by trubble on Aug 5, 2011 13:27:40 GMT
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Post by Weyland on Aug 5, 2011 13:58:58 GMT
Worry not, dear lady — the Land of the Rising Sun rises to the occasion! In the shape of none other than . . . Chūken Hachikō. * _______ * Greyfriar's Bobby
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Post by riotgrrl on Aug 5, 2011 18:21:01 GMT
"Scam to lure tourists" is probably going it a bit . .
It was a mild elaboration of a local truth. Hardly the fault of the Edinburgers if it's now some mad tourist attraction. The statue of Bobby at Greyfriars was erected in 1873, a year after the dog had died.
There definitely was a dog called Bobby that lived in Greyfriars. (It's not like the Loch Ness monster, a complete fabrication.)
That sentimental Victorian animal-lovers put up a statue, that the local story was embellished over time . . . these things are natural. It's not like 2011 and someone's put up a completely fictional web-page in order to steal your bank details.
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Post by aubrey on Aug 6, 2011 12:18:45 GMT
The dogs who stay with their master's body when he dies in the mountains are just staying by a ready source of meat. This explanation is usually given in dismissal of the idea that dogs feel anything for their humans, though I don't see why it should. I'd want my dog to eat me if that happened: why should she not?
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Post by trubble on Aug 6, 2011 19:30:19 GMT
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Post by Weyland on Aug 6, 2011 20:11:19 GMT
Alleged to be Heinrich Himmler. It is, of course, Mouse. Alleged to be Colonel Riotova. It is, of course, Greta Garbo.
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Post by Weyland on Aug 6, 2011 20:22:50 GMT
Talking of hoaxes, I watched a Harry Potter film this evening, for reasons of keeping abreast of popular culture.
Summary: No discernable plot to speak of. A lorralorra effects. Norralorra acting going on. A lorralorra famous names making some easy pocket money by showing up.
Reminded me strongly of It's a Knockout, only without the central horror element (Stewart Hall).
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Post by everso on Aug 6, 2011 23:25:04 GMT
I've never managed a Harry Potter film all the way through. Similarly, a Lord of the Rings film. In fact, just thinking about LOTR brings on an involuntary yawn.
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Post by everso on Aug 6, 2011 23:28:24 GMT
Yeah, well, I am over the littlest hobo or Billy-Bob or whatever his name is now. Today I am crushed by crazy accusations that these pictures are hoaxes. Hoax Verdict: The hoax is that these are real but no one's letting on. I can't understand how anyone actually thought these photos were real. I seem to remember reading that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was roped into believing it too. Tsk!
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Post by Weyland on Aug 7, 2011 7:35:45 GMT
I've never managed a Harry Potter film all the way through. Similarly, a Lord of the Rings film. In fact, just thinking about LOTR brings on an involuntary yawn. At least tLotR has a consistent plot, some strong characters, and Liv Tyler.
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Post by housesparrow on Aug 7, 2011 7:40:09 GMT
The dogs who stay with their master's body when he dies in the mountains are just staying by a ready source of meat. This explanation is usually given in dismissal of the idea that dogs feel anything for their humans, though I don't see why it should. I'd want my dog to eat me if that happened: why should she not? Ah, Are You Digging On My Grave? by Thomas Hardy "Ah, are you digging on my grave, My loved one? -- planting rue?" -- "No: yesterday he went to wed One of the brightest wealth has bred. 'It cannot hurt her now,' he said, 'That I should not be true.'" "Then who is digging on my grave, My nearest dearest kin?" -- "Ah, no: they sit and think, 'What use! What good will planting flowers produce? No tendance of her mound can loose Her spirit from Death's gin.'" "But someone digs upon my grave? My enemy? -- prodding sly?" -- "Nay: when she heard you had passed the Gate That shuts on all flesh soon or late, She thought you no more worth her hate, And cares not where you lie. "Then, who is digging on my grave? Say -- since I have not guessed!" -- "O it is I, my mistress dear, Your little dog , who still lives near, And much I hope my movements here Have not disturbed your rest?" "Ah yes! You dig upon my grave... Why flashed it not to me That one true heart was left behind! What feeling do we ever find To equal among human kind A dog's fidelity!" "Mistress, I dug upon your grave To bury a bone, in case I should be hungry near this spot When passing on my daily trot. I am sorry, but I quite forgot It was your resting place."
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Post by Weyland on Aug 7, 2011 7:54:16 GMT
I can't understand how anyone actually thought these photos were real. I seem to remember reading that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was roped into believing it too. Tsk! That's true. One can only assume that he was either doolally, had very bad eyesight, or was making money out of it. LINK
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Post by trubble on Aug 7, 2011 9:17:19 GMT
Do you believe in fairies?...If you believe, clap your hands!
from the pen of J.M. Barrie:
You see, Wendy, when the first baby laughed for the first time, its laugh broke into a thousand pieces, and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies.
"There ought to be one fairy for every boy and girl." "Ought to be? Isn't there?" "No. You see children know such a lot now, they soon don't believe in fairies, and every time a child says, 'I don't believe in fairies,' there is a fairy somewhere that falls down dead."
When a new baby laughs for the first time a new fairy is born, and as there are always new babies there are always new fairies. They live in nests on the tops of trees; and the mauve ones are boys and the white ones are girls, and the blue ones are just little sillies who are not sure what they are.
"If you believe," he shouted to them, "clap your hands; don't let Tink die."
Many clapped.
Some didn't.
A few beasts hissed.
The clapping stopped suddenly; as if countless mothers had rushed to their nurseries to see what on earth was happening; but already Tink was saved. First her voice grew strong, then she popped out of bed, then she was flashing through the room more merry and impudent than ever.
She never thought of thanking those who believed, but she would have like to get at the ones who had hissed.
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Post by trubble on Aug 7, 2011 9:19:59 GMT
"Scam to lure tourists" is probably going it a bit . . It was a mild elaboration of a local truth. Hardly the fault of the Edinburgers if it's now some mad tourist attraction. The statue of Bobby at Greyfriars was erected in 1873, a year after the dog had died. There definitely was a dog called Bobby that lived in Greyfriars. (It's not like the Loch Ness monster, a complete fabrication.) That sentimental Victorian animal-lovers put up a statue, that the local story was embellished over time . . . these things are natural. It's not like 2011 and someone's put up a completely fictional web-page in order to steal your bank details. There are few more impressive sights in the world than a Scotsman on the make. - J.M. Barrie
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Post by everso on Aug 7, 2011 10:37:01 GMT
The dogs who stay with their master's body when he dies in the mountains are just staying by a ready source of meat. This explanation is usually given in dismissal of the idea that dogs feel anything for their humans, though I don't see why it should. I'd want my dog to eat me if that happened: why should she not? Ah, Are You Digging On My Grave? by Thomas Hardy "Ah, are you digging on my grave, My loved one? -- planting rue?" -- "No: yesterday he went to wed One of the brightest wealth has bred. 'It cannot hurt her now,' he said, 'That I should not be true.'" "Then who is digging on my grave, My nearest dearest kin?" -- "Ah, no: they sit and think, 'What use! What good will planting flowers produce? No tendance of her mound can loose Her spirit from Death's gin.'" "But someone digs upon my grave? My enemy? -- prodding sly?" -- "Nay: when she heard you had passed the Gate That shuts on all flesh soon or late, She thought you no more worth her hate, And cares not where you lie. "Then, who is digging on my grave? Say -- since I have not guessed!" -- "O it is I, my mistress dear, Your little dog , who still lives near, And much I hope my movements here Have not disturbed your rest?" "Ah yes! You dig upon my grave... Why flashed it not to me That one true heart was left behind! What feeling do we ever find To equal among human kind A dog's fidelity!" "Mistress, I dug upon your grave To bury a bone, in case I should be hungry near this spot When passing on my daily trot. I am sorry, but I quite forgot It was your resting place." I loved this, Housey! Very sad, but at the same time quite funny.
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Post by aubrey on Aug 9, 2011 18:40:00 GMT
I can't understand how anyone actually thought these photos were real. I seem to remember reading that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was roped into believing it too. Tsk! That's true. One can only assume that he was either doolally, had very bad eyesight, or was making money out of it. LINKI don't know if it says so in that piece, but Conan Doyle had a vested interest in believing Spiritualism was real as his son was killed in the war, and the Fairy thing fits in with that quite well. What was weird about those pictures is that the fairies are a Victorian type of fairy: earlier ones were not like that, and were generally awkward little buggers and quite spiteful.
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Post by trubble on Aug 14, 2011 11:42:05 GMT
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Post by jean on Aug 28, 2011 13:04:08 GMT
Here's a famous hoax from Radio 3 I've just been reminded of::
Hoax verdict: You decide.
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