"Hackers,*" the TV newsies chortled this morning, "have stolen (???) Mitt Romney's income tax returns and are holding them for One Million Dollars ransom."
C'mon, Mitt, man up. Tell 'em to go ahead and publish -- heck, beat them to the punch and release the returns yourself, only with even more data. It's just income taxes; people already know you've made heaps of money.
Besides, we have one candidate who tiptoes around, sealing up records in palm-sweating trepidation lest anyone learn he ever went by "Barry," claimed not to be from here, and/or had less-than-perfect grades. Don't be that guy, Mitt, it just looks silly.
Speaking of silly, turns out there's more than one tiptoe-er: we have another guy runnin' for The Worst Job On The Planet who's playing coy about his tax returns: Gary Johnson of the LP.
How low have we sunk, that earning a splendiferously good living is something to hide? Do voters really go into the booth thinking, "Oh, screw them successful guys, I want a schmuck that hasn't done much better than me tryin' to do the day-to-day running of the fed.gov." Gads.
* Dammit, that's not what the word meant; it used to be neutral at worst, way back when a "computer" was a series of huge great cabinets locked in an air-conditioned basement, lorded over by a grad student or oddball accountant sitting at a console just like at NASA. "Crackers" were the guys who grabbed data and Did Bad Things with it. Hackers just snuck around like good campers, learning all the paths, seeing the scenic wonders and "taking nothing but pictures" and leaving not even footprints; they were the rare and special folk who could hack code. That word got evil fast, once the stupid laid hold of it.
Introduction to Sim
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