So, Sowell True

So, Sowell True August 11, 2005

One of the sad signs of our times are the twisted metal “sculptures” put in front of public buildings at the taxpayers’ expense — obviously never intended to please the public, and in fact constituting a thumbing of the artist’s nose at the public.

It is almost impossible to go to a shopping mall these days without seeing some teenage girl’s navel. There was a time when a guy was not likely to see a girl’s navel except on some more memorable occasion than a visit to a mall.

People who enjoy meetings should not be in charge of anything.

Why would anyone buy anything from a company that is inconsiderate enough to plant pop-up ads in their computer? Anything these ads are selling can be bought from somebody else.

A church in Monterrey, Mexico, has installed equipment that jams cell phone calls, so that church services will not be disturbed by phones ringing. This equipment should be installed in every school, restaurant, auditorium, etc. Incidentally, the equipment used by this church was manufactured in Israel. Let’s hear it for interfaith cooperation and the Judaeo-Christian tradition.

Imagine that everyone in the older age brackets had to write two books — “Smart Things I Have Done in My Life” and “Dumb Things I Have Done in My Life.” Be frank. Which book do you think would be bigger? Even some of the smart things we did were a result of having done dumb things before and suffered the consequences.

A couple of readers in Michigan ask: Since death is defined by the cessation of brain waves, why shouldn’t life be defined by the beginning of brain waves?

If people who commit sex crimes against children are so dangerous that they have to be registered for life after serving their sentences, why are they let out of prison in the first place?

I do not like to see the future mothers of America becoming soldiers. There are plenty of men who are capable of becoming soldiers and who are not capable of becoming mothers.

Taken from various Radom Thoughts on the Passing Scene by Thomas Sowell.


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