If the Nazis or Dutch police caught the sisters, they might have killed them. However, the fact that they were both young girls—and Freddie looked even younger when she wore braids—meant that officials were less likely to suspect them of working for the resistance. This might be one of the reasons why, in 1941, a commander with the Haarlem Resistance Group visited their house to ask their mother if he could recruit Freddie and Truus.
Their mother consented and the sisters’ agreed to join. “Only later did he tell us what we’d actually have to do: sabotage bridges and railway lines,” Truus told Jonker. “‘And learn to shoot, to shoot Nazis,’ he added. I remember my sister saying: ‘Well, that’s something I’ve never done before!’”
In at least one instance, Truus seduced an SS officer into the woods so that someone from the resistance could shoot him. As the commander who recruited them had said, Freddie and Truus learned to shoot Nazis too, and the sisters began to go on assassination missions by themselves. Later on, they focused on killing Dutch collaborators who arrested or endangered Jewish refugees and resistance members.
I have to admire the Oversteegen sisters. They were doing good work. We should be more like Freddie and Truus.
On these missions, Freddie was especially good at following a target or keeping a lookout during missions since she looked so young and unsuspecting. Both sisters shot to kill, but they never revealed how many Nazis and Dutch collaborators they assassinated. According to Pliester, Freddie would tell people who asked that she and her sister were soldiers, and soldiers don’t say.
Consequently, we don’t have too many details about how their “liquidations,” as they called them, played out. Benda-Beckmann says that sometimes they would follow a target to his house to kill him or ambush them on their bikes.
Their other duties in the Haarlem Resistance Group included “bringing Jewish [refugees] to a new hiding place, working in the emergency hospital in Enschede… [and] blowing up the railway line between Ijmuiden and Haarlem,” writes Jonker.
You’ll have to wait until tomorrow to see my latest video, “An Un-Deconstructed Atheist”.
Unless you’re a Patreon subscriber, in which case you can watch it right now.
Hey, friends:
I’ve been watching some atheist youtubers, and I’ve noticed a trend — an obvious trend that leaves me out in the cold. I feel like the most popular atheist youtubers are people who have considerable knowledge of the specifics of a religion. You know what I mean: a person sits and fields questions from believers, or responds to theistic videos, and they use their deep knowledge of a holy book to point out their contradictions with their own beliefs or the purported words of their god. It’s all very entertaining. It’s also frustrating, because the religious fools are consistently beaten down, but they don’t realize it; they use their poor logic to contrive rationalizations, and they run away whining.
I’ve also learned a new word: deconstruction. Well, an old word. I thought I knew what it meant, but it seems to have been shifting a bit.
A philosophical movement and theory of literary criticism that questions traditional assumptions about certainty, identity, and truth; asserts that words can only refer to other words; and attempts to demonstrate how statements about any text subvert their own meanings.
In the world of youtube theology, though, it seems to be more about the process of losing one’s religion, becoming aware of the failings of holy texts, and applying more critical interpretations to hermeneutics. There’s hardly ever a mention of Derrida or other aspects of literary criticism, and that’s fine. People are conscious of how their faith is falling away, and that’s a good thing.
But I feel like a Martian when I listen to these fascinating videos. I never “deconstructed”. I was brought up in a nominally Christian home, but everything I learned about religion repelled me. My grandparents tried to teach me prayers. This is the first one I was taught.
Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my Soul to keep
If I should die before I ‘wake,
I pray the Lord my Soul to take.
What kind of monsters were these people? I didn’t want to be “taken” at all. Are you telling me I could die in my sleep and some ghost would swoop in and snatch me?
I don’t think I’ve ever prayed. Not once. I thought of prayer as reciting horrible stories.
They taught me the Lord’s Prayer, too. I asked too many questions.
Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name, Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever and ever. Amen.
Who is this father? Where does he live? He delivers bread?
I realized years later that I was probably somewhere on the spectrum and was taking everything too literally, but the damage was done. I have a strong aversion to prayer — it would feel like I’m talking to myself and asking favors for myself, and I know I don’t have magical powers.
I went to church and Sunday school, and was also a member of the church choir, which you might say meant I was pretty deep in the culture of Christianity. I wasn’t. I was the oldest in a family of six kids, and figured out early on that the reason I was going to church and escorting a flock of little kids there was to protect my mother’s sanity. Church was a free babysitter.
My parents did not go to church at all, which does kind of undermine the whole idea that attendance was for the purposes of salvation. My grandparents were even worse — I don’t recall ever seeing them in church, but they were also the ones who gifted me an engraved Bible and made me read Bible verses aloud every Christmas. As soon as I learned to read, they’d prop me up in front of my brothers and sisters, my parents, my grandparents, my great-grandparents, and I had to read aloud. Luke 2. 364 days a year, I would never crack open a bible, but this one day I was a performing monkey. I hated it, but I loved my grandparents, so I’d do it for them.
It was indoctrination. I could see that from the first day I was dropped off at Sunday School, and indoctrination doesn’t work if you’re well aware that it is indoctrination, were repulsed by the clumsiness of it all, and spent your spare time working on subverting the effort. It all came to a head when I turned 12 and was expected to attend confirmation classes every week, for two years. This is where religion became overt, and I was expected to testify to my belief in the dogma of the faith.
At the end of my first year, I had a one-on-one meeting with the pastor, who asked me to recite the Nicene Creed, which I’d memorized. I was very good at memorization.
We believe in one God,
the Father, the Almighty,
maker of heaven and earth,
of all that is, seen and unseen.
We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ,
the only Son of God,
eternally begotten of the Father,
God from God, Light from Light,
true God from true God,
begotten, not made,
of one Being with the Father;
through him all things were made.
Then he made a mistake. He asked me if I BELIEVED in the creed.
“No,” I said, “I don’t believe in god.”
He looked mildly surprised. He said, “If you don’t accept that, then you aren’t a Christian.”
I was happy to be told that. I thought he was saying I didn’t have to go to church anymore.
“Do you believe any of it?” He asked.
“No.”
“Then you aren’t a Lutheran.”
At the time, I thought he was letting me off the hook, affirming what I already knew. Looking back on it, though, I’m thinking now that it was more of a passive-aggressive rebuke. This was a church full of Scandinavian-Americans from Minnesota who had emigrated to Washington state, so maybe this was my first exposure to Minnesota Nice, and I was so naive I didn’t notice.
Anyway, I took it as being recognized as an atheist, and receiving permission to never go to church again. And I didn’t! The result of my Lutheran confirmation was that I failed the Christianity test and was instead officially confirmed as an atheist.
Unfortunately, that means that, unlike so many well-educated atheist youtubers, you can totally stump me with Bible quotes. I won’t be able to hurl Biblical contradictions back at you, or wrestle with your sophisticated theology. I’ve got no grounding in religious hermeneutics or apologetics — I’m as helpless as a baby before your verses and quotes from church fathers and Bible college philosophy.
That’s not permission for the Bible-thumpers to declare open season on this one weird godless person. It also means I’m totally, blissfully impervious to their arguments. Since I don’t recognize the existence of their deity and don’t care about the authority of their holy book, they might as well be yelling at me in Greek.
It does not mean I know nothing about their religion, though. It just means I was exposed to the antigens early, and lack the ability to empathize with their foolishness. I’m still fascinated by how people can fall for such obvious nonsense.
When I turned 18 and went off to college, I attended a small liberal arts college in the heart of Indiana, DePauw University. It was a good school, in a conservative area, and it was also the first time I was hit with a love bomb. I was alone, and the Christian group in my dorm were talking to me and dealing out all kinds of flattery, telling me about good books I should read and loaning me music. It was coming up on Spring Break, and they suggested I could go with them — they had a bus and were all going to help restore an old barn for some nice folks even deeper in the Indiana heartland. I had nothing better to do, so I spent a week on this farm.
It was actually a Bible camp, a commercial retreat for the true believers. I was drafted to work on repainting and repairing the buildings, so I spent my days with a brush and a bucket of paint — long days, most memorably painting the rafters and getting painfully sore. The evenings were spent around a campfire, reading bible verses (I didn’t know any) and everyone giving their Testimony (mine was telling them I was brought up Lutheran, but didn’t believe any of it). Then I’d get hours of being told Jesus loves me and that everyone there loved me, with more fervent singing and bible-quotin’. Yeah, they sang Kumbaya at me.
I just smiled and vibed with the group. Trust me, I am immune. I had a good time with some nice people and worked on a church camp, and that was it.
When we got back to college, I could tell the group leader was somewhat frustrated that I was so oblivious, and I think he decided to take an intellectual approach. He gave me an album to listen to: it was Leonard Bernstein’s Mass. Most people haven’t heard of it; it’s a musical theater piece, in the genre of “Jesus Christ Superstar” (but very different), composed by an American Jew and recounting the doubts and ultimate acceptance by the Celebrant in the context of the Catholic Mass. I guess he thought the nerd might appreciate it, and besides, Catholic, Lutheran, they’re kind of the same thing, aren’t they?
Surprise, I liked it. I’ve listened to it off and on again over the years, and it’s eclecticism is exactly what appeals to me. The religious message, though…whooosh, right past me, didn’t care. There is one bit, though, that did make a life-long impression, in a negative sense. Don’t get me wrong, I liked it musically, but man, the lyrics struck me as total nonsense.
Sing God a simple song
Lauda laude
Make it up, as you go along
Lauda laude
Sing, like you like to sing
God loves all simple things
For God, is the simplest of all
I’m going to have to credit Leonard Bernstein as setting me on the track of being against design and complexity arguments. I thought hard about that claim — I’d been hearing that “god is love” most of my life, and it was silly and a reductionist evasion of the magnitude of the claims believers were making. Love is a profound and complex emotion, so how can you say it’s simple? How can you claim this pan-galactic overlord who created all the complexity of the universe is simultaneously just a “simple” feeling? Now I’m no authority, but I rather doubt that the Bible makes such a ridiculous claim that their deity is “simple” or just “love”, so I have to approach this claim as a godless empiricist and reject it as an unfounded and contradictory claim that has no relationship to reality.
So that’s the kind of atheist I’ve become: dismissive of theistic arguments and contemptuous of the Abrahamic religions. I am not a “cultural Christian”. I am, at best, a “cultural un-Christian”, familiar enough with the Christian perspective to be heartily sick of it. The worth of my culture comes from those who were progressive and scientific in spite of the taint of this nonsense that soaks our civilization.
Now, please, if you disagree with me, don’t bother trying to bludgeon me with your Bible. I’m impervious to that. Try using material evidence, since that’s the language I speak. If you claim to have a big fish, I expect you to show me that fish.
SpaceX successfully launched its Starship on May 27, but the rocket lost control mid-flight and eventually fell apart.
They failed to recover the reusable booster, which exploded, and the second stage was tumbling out of control, and exploded. SUCCESS!
This was the ninth Starship launch, and none of them have “succeeded” by any reasonable meaning of the word. Maybe someone needs to teach the editors at the WaPo the word “failed”? Somehow, I think they’re going to need to use that word a lot in the next few years, in lots of contexts.
Musk isn’t an engineer and doesn’t understand iterative design, and now SpaceX and NASA are facing a sunk cost fallacy.
You never achieve iterative design with a full-scale prototype. It is incredibly wasteful and can lead you down several problematic and dead-end solutions. I used to engineer high-speed boats — another weight- and safety-sensitive engineering field. We would always conduct scale model tests of every aspect of design, iteratively changing it as we went so that when we did build the full-scale version, we were solving the problems of scale, not design and scale simultaneously.
SpaceX could have easily done this. They already proved they could land a 1st stage/Booster with the Falcon 9, and Falcon 9’s Booster could launch a 1/10 scale Starship into orbit. Tests of such a scaled-down model would help SpaceX determine the best compromise for using the bellyflop manoeuvre and retro rockets to land. It would help them iteratively improve the design around such a compromise, especially as they will be far cheaper and quicker to redesign and build than the full-scale versions. Not only that, but these tests would highlight any of the design’s shortcomings, such as the rocket engines not having enough thrust-to-weight ratio to enable a high enough payload. This allows engineers to do crucial, complete redesigns before the large-scale version is even built.
If you have even a passing knowledge of engineering, you know this is what iterative design looks like. So, why hasn’t Musk done this?
Well, developing a Starship like this would expose that making a fully reusable rocket with even a barely usable payload to space is impossible. Musk knows this: Falcon 9 was initially meant to be fully reusable until he discovered that the useful payload would be zero. That was his iterative design telling him Starship was impossible over a decade ago, as just making the rocket larger won’t solve this! But he went on ahead anyway. Why?
Well, through some transparent corruption and cronyism, he could secure multi-billion-dollar contracts from NASA to build this mythical rocket. But, by going for full-scale testing, he could not only hide the inherent flaws of Starship long enough for the cash to be handed over to him but also put NASA in a position of the sunk cost fallacy. NASA has given SpaceX so much money, and their plans rely so heavily on Starship that they can’t walk away; they might as well keep shoving money at the beast.
This is why Starship, in my opinion, is just one massive con.
That is the real reason why Starship was doomed to fail from the beginning. It’s not trying to revolutionise the space industry; if it were, its concept, design, and testing plan would be totally different. Instead, the entire project is optimised to fleece as much money from the US taxpayer as possible, and as such, that is all it will ever do.
On Friday, Colorado Gov. Jared Polis, a Democrat, vetoed a bill passed by the Democratic-controlled legislature that repealed the state’s sui generis right-to-work law. Colorado legislators had voted to pass the Worker Protection Act (SB25-005) by a 22-to-12 margin in the Senate and by 43-to-22 in the House, in both cases along party lines.
Existing Colorado labor law—the Labor Peace Act—was enacted in 1943 before the 1947 Taft-Hartley Act enabled states to pass right-to-work laws that curtailed unions’ ability to collect dues from all the workers they represented in collective bargaining. Colorado’s Labor Peace Act prefigured those right-to-work laws in several ways. Under its terms, once a majority of workers vote to form or join a union, it requires that union to win 75 percent of the workers’ votes in a second election to be able to collect dues from all the workers it represents once it has successfully bargained a contract with the employer.
The difficulty unions have in clearing that second bar—a hurdle unique to Colorado—explains in large part why the percentage of unionized Colorado workers is so low. Data from the Economic Policy Institute indicates that Colorado’s union density (7.7 percent in 2024) much more closely resembles that of right-to-work states (with an average of 6.2 percent in 2024) than non-right-to-work states (15.8 percent in 2024). Colorado is the only state with Democratic trifecta control of government to have such a law.
The bill Polis vetoed drew unanimous support from Democratic legislators, and from Colorado Worker Rights United, a statewide coalition of labor unions and worker centers. Given that vetoes occurring after the Colorado General Assembly’s session can’t be overridden, there isn’t an opportunity for legislators to nullify Polis’s decision.
“I believe there must be a high threshold of worker participation and approval to allow for bargaining over mandatory wage deduction. And SB 25-005 does not satisfy that threshold, which is why I am vetoing the bill,” Polis wrote in his veto letter.
This marks a sharp departure from the views Polis presented when he sought the Colorado AFL-CIO’s endorsement in 2018, at which time he positioned himself as an ally of working people set on strengthening the state’s labor movement.
The question is this–are there red lines to be a Democrat. For instance, I’d have a real hard time accepting someone as a Democrat who does not support gay marriage or legal abortion rights. But I feel there’s a lot of Democrats who think those rights are more important than union rights. That should not be. If you don’t have a class analysis, you aren’t really a Democrat. You don’t have to be a personal fan of unions, just like you don’t have to personally think abortion is a good thing. But you do need to support the basic legal rights that allow both unions and abortion to thrive. Jared Polis is a Democrat who hates working people. There’s no room for that. Go away rich boy.
Pretty funny if not like a clown investigation here (gift link) from Maggie’s farm.
TL;DR: Trump’s announcement that Qatar was giving him a very special 747 that’s been tricked out like a luxury jet for six year old pimps was just Adderal Grandpa getting all confused and excited about a potential new toy:
Interviews with 14 people involved in or briefed on the search for the replacement plane say it started when the White House Military Office, which oversees presidential travel, worked with Boeing and the Defense Department to compile a list of every late-model 747 on the market with a business-jet layout, which could more quickly be retrofitted into a presidential plane.
There were only eight planes in the world that fit the bill, including a flashy double-decker jet that Qatar had been trying to sell for several years, with no luck.
A brochure for the aircraft advertised just the kind of opulence Mr. Trump favors. There were “soft fabrics of the highest quality” in the bedroom, along with “luxurious leather and exquisite wood veneers” and a “lavishly designed” bathroom that is “almost a piece of art.”
I bet.
Hey, who’s at the center of this cluster? Oh this guy:
This second 747 was still available for sale.
Mr. Witkoff, an old friend from Mr. Trump’s early days in New York real estate, knew the Qataris well. The country’s sovereign wealth fund had bailed him out in 2023 when a real estate deal on Central Park South went bad.
It’s good to have friends.
So Mr. Witkoff got in touch with the Qataris to ask about the plane.
Love at First Sight
By mid-February, Qatar had agreed to send the jet to Florida when Mr. Trump was at his Mar-a-Lago resort, so he could see the plane firsthand.
The plane arrived on the morning of Saturday, Feb. 15, after a nonstop flight from Doha to West Palm Beach, Fla., according to flighttracking records. Mr. Trump left his club for the short drive to the airport and stepped out of his limousine about 10 a.m., to lay eyes on a plane that once had been used by the Qatari royal family.
“Every surface and detail in this room reflects the opulent design,” the sales brochure said. “The highest level of craftsmanship and engineering prowess was applied to outfit the interior meticulously.”
See if you can guess where this is heading.
By the time Mr. Trump toured the aircraft on Feb. 15, discussions about how to acquire the plane had changed. The talk among senior aides to Mr. Trump shifted from a government-to-government sale to a donation.
Ah the passive voice.
That was a surprise to Air Force officials. At no point, Pentagon officials said, did the Air Force propose that the plane be donated.
One senior administration official told The Times that Qatar raised the option of a potential gift, or at least that Qatari officials were “agreeable” to the idea of a no-charge, government-to-government transfer when it came up. A second official said Mr. Witkoff, for one, always believed the transaction would be a donation.
The inevitable punchline is the Qataris had been trying to sell this monstrosity unsuccessfully for years, and thought they had found somebody vain and stupid enough to buy it:
Government officials in Qatar — who had long wanted to unload the plane — had a different version of the sequence of events, according to a person familiar with their timeline.
They were willing to send the jet to Florida for Mr. Trump to take a personal tour. But the expectation was that the plane would be sold to the United States, not offered as a gift.
Now of course they’re finding out that Donald Trump’s basic economic theory of life is that you give him stuff for free, and maybe one day he will be able to do you a favor. It’s all about the relationship dontcha know, plus a refusal is not the act of a friend:
Mr. Witkoff also has strong personal ties to the Gulf kingdom that go back several years. Aside from the bailout by Qatar’s sovereign wealth fund, Mohammed bin Abdulrahman Al Thani, Qatar’s prime minister, attended the wedding of one of Mr. Witkoff’s sons.
“I have a personal relationship,” Sheikh Mohammed said in an interview this year with Tucker Carlson, around the time the plane negotiations were underway, describing his ties to Mr. Witkoff.
Let’s make a deal:
The Qatari plane has a luxurious interior. But considerable work would be necessary to prepare the plane to serve as a true Air Force One — including ridding the jet of any hidden electronic listening devices and adding advanced communications equipment and specialized systems to protect the plane from a missile attack or other threats. And even if the plane is donated, the cost of those retrofits would be enormous, according to current and former Pentagon officials: at least $1 billion.
Which is pretty funny, given that that figure is about ten times what the plane was being shopped for by the Qataris.
“It is ridiculous,” Mr. Foulkrod said of the idea that the Qatari plane could be a quick fix, adding that the existing Boeing projects could probably be accelerated more. “That’s a better dollar value than trying to take an airplane from somebody else and trying to make it into a presidential plane. It makes no sense.”
The Qatari plane is currently in San Antonio, according to photographs of the plane and flight records examined by The Times.
No new appropriation for any work on the plane — or to maintain it and supply a crew — has been approved by Congress, which would be sure to scrutinize any deal completed with Qatar.
White House officials have said they are considering hiring L3Harris, a military contractor, to handle the work needed on the Qatari plane, although the source of the money to do this work, or even the total price tag, has not been made public.
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One backwards-baseball-cap-wearing Chicago dudebro’s campaign to enact legal revenge on women who called him “clingy” and a “psycho” online has ended in ignominious defeat: yesterday, a Federal judge dismissed his second amended legal complaint against these women and dozens of other defendants with prejudice.
Nikko D’Ambrosio’s apparently very incompetent lawyers filed his first lawsuit in January of last year, alleging that several women who had dated him had said mean and defamatory things about him in a private Facebook group devoted to calling out guys who date very badly.
In posts on the Chicago version of the “Are We Dating the Same Guy?” group, one woman complained that he had been “[v]ery clingy very fast. Flaunted money very awkwardly and kept talking about how I don’t want to see his bad side, especially when he was on business calls.” Another called him a “psycho.” Still another said that he had ghosted her after the two had sex. The first woman posted his picture and mentioned his first name, and shared a text message she said she had gotten from him, which I have lightly censored:
Speak for yourself you ugly vial [sic] fake whore. Your ego matches that fake fucking face where you can’t even smile in pictures because your teeth are so fucked. The truth hurts bitch and my message will stay with you forever c*nt.
So, yeah, this is the guy who thinks it’s defamatory to call him a “psycho.”
Anyway, so not only was the defamation case somewhat silly–these women were basically expressing their opinions, and making a few claims about him that his lawyers didn’t actually challenge directly in the suit–but his lawyers arguably fucked up pretty much everything about the complaint that they could possibly fuck up.
Among other things, they didn’t just sue the women who had made the comments about him; they sued nearly two dozen other women and one man, including relatives of one of the women who had posted comments. They also sued multiple different corporate incarnations of Facebook parent Meta. To top it off, as I understand it, the lawyers filed the case in the wrong jurisdiction–a Federal court–though some of the defendants lived, like D’Ambrosio, in Illinois and should have been sued in that state.
Mike Masnick of Tech Dirt, who has been writing about frivolous lawsuits for years, declared their complaint to be “the single dumbest lawsuit on the planet.” Ken “Popehat” White, a lawyer and legal commenter, said it was “astoundingly sloppy and incompetent … This may be the most badly drafted complaint by a lawyer I have seen this millennium.” White guessed that the case would be thrown out “for jurisdictional defects” and, lo and behold, it promptly was.
Anyway, D’Ambrosio’s lawyers in the so-called defamation case did what Masnick characterizes as a “slipshod job” fixing the problems with the lawsuit, then quickly refiled. And apparently they ended up amending the complaint a second time, though I haven’t found any news articles about this. (I’m not sure how they got away with refiling in Federal court, but I’m not a lawyer.)
So that gets us to yesterday, when Federal judge Sunil R. Harjani issued his 35-page ruling, basically tearing the complaint to shreds and dismissing it with prejudice. Harjani declared that the statements made by the women didn’t amount to defamation, and that “despite having ample opportunity, D’Ambrosio has yet to identify any false statements, the central element of a defamation claim.”
He also blasted D’Ambrosio for “su[ing] anyone remotely associated with those posts for all possible, imaginable claims, including the woman who dated him and her parents, women commenting on posts, the operators of the Facebook group, and Facebook itself.” As a result of these things, and a number of others that are mostly too complicated for a non-lawyer like me to explain or sometimes even understand, the judge concluded:
While evident from his complaint that D’Ambrosio objects to the idea that women in Chicago, and nationally, have a private invite only forum in which they are able to discuss and potentially warn other women against men’s dating habits and that he personally detested being discussed in that group, the statements made about him do not amount to defamation, false light invasion of privacy, or doxing. The comments about D’Ambrosio in “Are We Dating the Same Guy?” were subjective opinions, which even if D’Ambrosio dislikes, cannot amount to defamation. As a result of these deficient claims and D’Ambrosio’s failure to articulate how Meta could be liable under the other counts, any amendment would be futile. Therefore, the Court dismisses D’Ambrosio’s Second Amended Complaint with prejudice.
Case closed, as they say. Really closed, in that it cannot be amended and refiled again.
The irony of it all is that D’Ambrosio filed his doomed lawsuit in the first place because he was angry that women in the “Are We Dating the Same Guy?” group were, unfairly in his view, making him look like a jerk. In a private Facebook group.
Now his lawsuit is dead for good, and as a result of the extensive news coverage of his Quixotic legal quest, so it seems is his reputation. Now that women around the world (including lots of them in Chicago) know what a jerk he really is, I suspect that he’s going to have a much harder time finding anyone to date. To put it mildly. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.
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