Bandwagon Jumping Quotes

I described the pyramid we'd found and waited for him to jump on the bandwagon. Unfortunately he's afraid of wagons. And bands.

I am no friend of probability theory, I have hated it from the first moment when our dear friend Max Born gave it birth. For it could be seen how easy and simple it made everything, in principle, everything ironed and the true problems concealed. Everybody must jump on the bandwagon [Ausweg]. And actually not a year passed before it became an official credo, and it still is.

Jeez, John, I’m trying to be helpful. You could learn a lot from me. No woman has ever been able to resist my natural charm.” “You know who else had natural charm?” I retort. “Ted Bundy.” Dean dons a blank look. “Who?” “The serial killer.” Oh Jesus, I’ve jumped on the Bundy bandwagon. I’m turning into Grace.

Why is it when you have a bad day, everything that can go wrong just jumps on the bandwagon? It’s never like one thing is shitty but the rest of the day is sunshine and rainbows.

WAIT, WAIT! JUST one more!” “Bliss, there are children waiting.” And they probably hated us, but I was just so glad to see her smiling that I didn’t care. “Yeah, well, they all just jumped on the bandwagon. Most of them weren’t alive when I read Harry Potter for the first time.” I turned to the Canadian family behind me and said, “I’m so sorry. This is the last one, I promise.” Then I took one more picture of Bliss pretending to push the luggage cart through the wall at the Platform 9¾ monument at King’s Cross Station. A little boy stuck his tongue out at Bliss as we left. I pulled her away before she could follow suit. “That kid better watch it. I’m totally a Slytherin.” I shook my head, smiling. “Love, I’m going to need you to pull back on the crazy a bit.” “You’re right. Realistically, I’m a Ravenclaw.

The Los Angeles parade would begin in Griffith Park, where a large crowd would assemble and the speeches would be given. Every politician of consequence would be there. There was no way they would miss a chance to publicly praise the troops and honor those who had lost their lives in service. Some of the tributes would be sincere and heartfelt, and some less so. But participating in the event, vowing undying support for the U.S. military, was an absolute must to maintain political viability. It was okay to vote to cut funds for veterans' healthcare, but don't dare miss a chance to jump on the Memorial Day bandwagon.

When the bandwagon presents itself, you have to jump onto it.

Dip into the whip and anal bead pool and bathe in it a little. Let’s give our readers wild sex on a silver paddled platter. Let’s dildo up and jump on the gag ball bandwagon.

Greek women were not allowed to be: free and untamed. In fact, Artemis is a bit of a paradox. On the one hand, her commitment to purity must have been greatly admired by Ancient Greeks; yet she is also untamable and answers to no man. She is truly the eternal wild child who never has to grow up and shoulder the responsibilities that adulthood brings. She never has to compromise herself or conform to any of society’s standards. No wonder she is associated with the moon—completely untouchable, forever unattainable. If offered the option of becoming one of Artemis’ immortal maidens, freed forever from the shackles of marriage or slavery, I think many Ancient Greek women would have jumped on that bandwagon as it careened past

If ever I create a website, I'll call it Two-Face Book, and I'll invite everyone to it, it will be a game board, of a whitewash chalkboard. A social network, with reserved intentions, where we can fall into our cliques and circle of friends. We can dis who we want and accept who appeals to our discretion. Where the users will keep abusing, and abusers keep using, where the computer bullies will keep swinging and the J-birds that fly by will die; where the lonely will keep seeking and the needy still go desperate, where the envious will keep hating, and the lustful will keep flashing. Where those that think ignoring, will keep one down and the wannabes will foolishly think themselves greater by the number of "likes" that pours caffeine into their coffee. We can jump on the bandwagon of likes, or reserve not to show we care. Where the scorners, scammers and stalkers lay wait to take hold of the innocent and fragile, and my pockets will get fatter as more and more will join up, where being fake is accepted. As a mirror that stares at a different face. It will be my two-face epilogue, in a 3-world dimension, of a twofold war. I will build an empire of contagious hooks, and still we will live, happily-ever disastrous.

Debunked”: This word was rarely used in news reporting until a few years ago. That’s when propagandists began deploying the term to discredit theories, stories, and science with which they disagree. In fact, when special interests launch this word, it often means the opposite is the case: the targeted idea has not been debunked at all. Oftentimes, the idea in question is a subject of legitimate dispute or has actually proven to be true. Therefore, it is often inaccurate for news reporters to jump on the “debunked” bandwagon.

I've become very leery of jumping on bandwagons in my old age.

Wealthy celebrities in particular are all too eager to jump onto the proverbial bandwagon of oppression, and lecture us about the evils within our country. In Vogue magazine, Taylor Swift said, “Rights are being stripped from basically everyone who isn’t a straight white cisgender male.” Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, elected to Congress at twenty-nine years old, famously said that her generation “never saw American prosperity.” Such overstatements, totally devoid of evidence, only make sense in the context of a culture that has become accustomed to seeking victimhood over self-empowerment

It’s amazing how seedy scumbags (the press) can write shite, and demented retards (the public) suddenly go up in arms and then opportunistic slime (the politicians) jump right on the bandwagon. Such is British life. So now there is to be a ‘comprehensive review of the facility’.

There’s no point in waiting for Godot. He never arrives. That’s the whole point. In Dante’s Limbo, the Ignavi are always waiting. Their crime in life was that they preferred to wait until everything was decided rather than commit themselves to a cause when its prospects were uncertain, and now they are condemned to wait forever in the vestibule of hell. Anyone can jump on a bandwagon. The heroes are those who got involved long before the bandwagon arrived. You have to find a cause and commit yourself fully. That’s the first step in giving meaning to your life

Despite the billions spent on gerontology and arresting the ageing process, our time-worn adversaries, growing old and dying, persist like spots on the moon. Deep within us is the desire to live forever. We resist the concept of nothingness…the ‘dust to dust’ philosophy. This built-in aversion is an indirect indication of our sense of permanence. The advertising industry has jumped on the bandwagon of pursuing eternal life.

In Dante’s Limbo, the Ignavi are always waiting. Their crime in life was that they preferred to wait until everything was decided rather than commit themselves to a cause when its prospects were uncertain, and now they are condemned to wait forever in the vestibule of hell. Anyone can jump on a bandwagon. The heroes are those who got involved long before the bandwagon arrived. You have to find a cause and commit yourself fully. That’s the first step in giving meaning to your life.

I don’t know where she comes up with this stuff. Her mind... it’s like I’ve come upon this secret vault that science will someday discover — or probably never discover. Which is fine by me. Kind of like when there’s a band I really like but nobody knows about them. I want people I like to hear them, but when the whole world jumps on the bandwagon I get pissed. Because I found them first. Unless, of course, it’s one of my bands... in which case the world is more than welcome to jump. But Heaven... I’d prefer it if nobody else jumps on her.

The problem isn’t meetings themselves—it’s how we run them. Think about the brainstorming sessions you’ve attended. You’ve probably seen people bite their tongues due to ego threat (I don’t want to look stupid), noise (we can’t all talk at once), and conformity pressure (let’s all jump on the boss’s bandwagon!). Goodbye diversity of thought, hello groupthink. These challenges are amplified for people who lack power or status: the most junior person in the room, the sole woman of color in a team of bearded white dudes, the introvert drowning in a sea of extraverts.

HEART: Let’s try stress and being on the go all of the time. Have you ever thought that you try to fit too many things in one day? Do you know how to relax and do nothing? Do you know how to just be as in human be-ing? LERITA: It seems like I’ve heard this before. HEART: Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. You need the threat of a damn heart transplant to get your attention, huh? I’ve been trying to get through to you for years, especially since you jumped on that bandwagon in high school. LERITA: What bandwagon? HEART: The “I’ve got to be Miss It… somebody famous… Miss Perfectionist…prove to everyone that I’m at the top” bandwagon.

Kindle free days are more difficult to promote now and not as effective in terms of sales afterwards. This isn’t a wholly bad thing for authors though, as many of us felt that too many people were only interested in free books. Lots of Internet Marketers jumped onto the Kindle bandwagon in the last couple of years, seeing it as a quick way to make a buck. They hurt Indie authors because their books were often rushed, unedited, badly formatted, and made from a mishmash of articles and content scraped from the Internet. So, as we said, it isn’t a totally awful thing that Amazon is tightening up its rules. Maybe the Internet Marketers will move onto the next thing and leave the field clear for the lifelong authors.

The first drug laws, the anti-opium laws of the 1870s, were directed at Chinese immigrants, never mind that the country was full of white middle-class laudanum addicts, tippling from their dropper bottles all day long. Early in the next century, support for the laws criminalizing cocaine was ginned up by claims that “drug-crazed Negroes” were destroying white society and murdering white women. Southern senators, unperturbed by their wives’ opioid addictions, believed that cocaine made black men superhuman, even that it made them immune to bullets. When the first drug czar, a man named Harry Anslinger, wanted to criminalize marijuana, he appealed to people’s biases against immigrants from Mexico, claiming that the drug made Mexicans sexually violent. William Randolph Hearst jumped on this bandwagon, warning again and again in the pages of his newspapers about the dangers of the Mexican “Marihuana-Crazed Madman.” This demonization continues today.*1 White people are five times as likely to use drugs as African Americans, yet African Americans are incarcerated for drug offenses at ten times the rate of whites.*2 The racism of the drug war has been the single most important driving factor in the ever-escalating incarceration of people of color in the United States.

My interest in comics was scribbled over with a revived, energized passion for clothes, records, and music. I'd wandered in late to the punk party in 1978, when it was already over and the Sex Pistols were history. I'd kept my distance during the first flush of the new paradigm, when the walls of the sixth-form common room shed their suburban-surreal Roger Dean Yes album covers and grew a fresh new skin of Sex Pistols pictures, Blondie pinups, Buzzcocks collages, Clash radical chic. As a committed outsider, I refused to jump on the bandwagon of this new musical fad, which I'd written off as some kind of Nazi thing after seeing a photograph of Sid Vicious sporting a swastika armband. I hated the boys who'd cut their long hair and binned their crappy prog albums in an attempt to join in. I hated pretty much everybody without discrimination, in one way or another, and punk rockers were just something else to add to the shit list. But as we all know, it's zealots who make the best converts. One Thursday night, I was sprawled on the settee with Top of the Pops on the telly when Poly Styrene and her band X-Ray Spex turned up to play their latest single: an exhilarating sherbet storm of raw punk psychedelia entitled "The Day the World Turned Day-Glo" By the time the last incandescent chorus played out, I was a punk. I had always been a punk. I would always be a punk. Punk brought it all together in one place for me: Michael Moorcock's Jerry Cornelius novels were punk. Peter Barnes's The Ruling Class, Dennis Potter, and The Prisoner were punk too. A Clockwork Orange was punk. Lindsay Anderson's If ... was punk. Monty Python was punk. Photographer Bob Carlos Clarke's fetish girls were punk. Comics were punk. Even Richmal Crompton's William books were punk. In fact, as it turned out, pretty much everything I liked was punk. The world started to make sense for the first time since Mosspark Primary. New and glorious constellations aligned in my inner firmament. I felt born again. The do-your-own-thing ethos had returned with a spit and a sneer in all those amateurish records I bought and treasured-even though I had no record player. Singles by bands who could often barely play or sing but still wrote beautiful, furious songs and poured all their young hearts, experiences, and inspirations onto records they paid for with their dole money. If these glorious fuckups could do it, so could a fuckup like me. When Jilted John, the alter ego of actor and comedian Graham Fellows, made an appearance on Top of the Pops singing about bus stops, failed romance, and sexual identity crisis, I was enthralled by his shameless amateurism, his reduction of pop music's great themes to playground name calling, his deconstruction of the macho rock voice into the effeminate whimper of a softie from Sheffield. This music reflected my experience of teenage life as a series of brutal setbacks and disappointments that could in the end be redeemed into art and music with humor, intelligence, and a modicum of talent. This, for me, was the real punk, the genuine anticool, and I felt empowered. The losers, the rejected, and the formerly voiceless were being offered an opportunity to show what they could do to enliven a stagnant culture. History was on our side, and I had nothing to lose. I was eighteen and still hadn't kissed a girl, but perhaps I had potential. I knew I had a lot to say, and punk threw me the lifeline of a creed and a vocabulary-a soundtrack to my mission as a comic artist, a rough validation. Ugly kids, shy kids, weird kids: It was okay to be different. In fact, it was mandatory.

By mid-April Peter, Andrew and ourselves had felt obliged to run a spoof ad entitled ‘Freak Out-Schmeak Out’ to poke fun at them, but even so promoters who were jumping on the bandwagon, or just plain dumb, failed to get the joke, and their ads were still blithely using the line ‘Turn up, shell out, get lost

Don’t jump on the bandwagon just because everyone’s doing so.

Not all evangelicals jumped on the anti-Muslim bandwagon. In 2007, nearly 300 Christian leaders signed the “Yale Letter,” a call for Christians and Muslims to work together for peace. Published in the New York Times, the letter was signed by several prominent evangelical leaders, including megachurch pastors Rick Warren and Bill Hybels, Christianity Today editor David Neff, emerging church leader Brian McLaren, Jim Wallis of Sojourners, and Rich Mouw, president of evangelical Fuller Seminary. Notably, Leith Anderson, president of the NAE, and Richard Cizik, the NAE’s chief lobbyist, also signed the letter. 15 Other evangelical leaders, however, voiced strenuous opposition. Al Mohler, president of Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, found no need to apologize for the War on Terror or to confess any sins “against our Muslim neighbors.” It was all quite confounding to him: “For whom are we apologizing and for what are we apologizing?” Dobson’s Citizen magazine criticized the Yale Letter for claiming that the two faiths shared a deity, and for showing weakness and endangering Christians. Apologizing for past violence against Muslims would make Christians in Muslim countries more vulnerable to violence, he reasoned. Focus on the Family urged like-minded critics to register their displeasure with the NAE and included the NAE’s PO box for their convenience. Dobson and other conservative evangelicals pressured the NAE to oust Cizik that year, both for his attempts at Muslim-Christian dialogue and for his activism on global warming. This was easily accomplished the next year, when Cizik came out in support of same-sex civil unions. 16

The reason all those people were jumping on this bandwagon was made clear by the findings of CoinDesk’s new Cointracker service. In the first seven and a half months of 2017, ICOs raised more than $1.5 billion, far exceeding the money raised by blockchain companies through traditional venture capital funding strategies. And if anything, with four offerings—Bancor, Tezos, EOS, and Filecoin—raising $830 million among them in the two months to August 12, it seemed that the tidal wave of offerings and money was only increasing

I want to encourage others to believe in their own talents, to stand up for their convictions, which they have developed by means of searching and digging, even if this does not correspond to the spirit of the times -- as well as not to jump onto any bandwagon which stands ready for us in our present-day culture of permanent excitement. Many experiences which are painful in the moment later turn out to represent important and appropriate changes of course.

Unfortunately, evangelicals—always late to every party—are enthusiastically jumping on another cultural bandwagon just as its wheels are about to come off. As an “analytical tool,” CRT has no more use than a wrecking ball. It can demolish core social structures and leave society itself in ruins, but it cannot clean up the mess, much less build anything worthwhile.

This trans thing? I feel like it came up five years ago and everybody jumped on the bandwagon. And to tell me that it’s always been there, when I grew up in the heart of the fashion industry—it wasn’t.

I realize that sharing seems to be all the rage amongst the women of Bliss, but you should know that I will not be jumping on that particular bandwagon. Don’t go looking for a third.” That was the furthest thing from her mind. She could barely handle Stef, much less a friend of his. “You’re safe. I know Callie and Rachel go on and on about how hot the sex is, but they have to do the laundry, too. Other women see hot double penetration, and all I see is double the underwear to clean. And I bet they eat a lot, too.” Stef laughed,

To be fair I’ve done a ton of jumping in my lifetime. I’ve jumped down throats, I’ve jumped the gun, I’ve jumped ship, I’ve jumped to conclusions, and I’ve even jumped on the occasional bandwagon. This time I’m going to jump at the chance. I will jump in with both feet. Hashtag #jumpforjoy.

Feminism was not a gimmicky bandwagon that she jumped onto the short-cut road to fame.

I was absent when people jumped on the bandwagon, rewriting a part of history they know nothing about. In fact, they weren't even around back then, and that they were helped by people close to me; messed with my head, and I went to bed for years in tears, in a sort of living dead...

I was absent when people jumped on the bandwagon, rewriting a part of history they know nothing about. In fact, they weren't even around back then, and that they were helped by people close to me; messed with my head, and I went to bed for years in tears in a sort of living dead...

Life without a clear vision can be frustrating. Do not jump on the bandwagon of those who do not know where they are going. Seek clarity on what you need to do in order to keep growing.

Many serial entrepreneurs don’t struggle with coming up with ideas—they struggle with picking one and sticking with it. Even within a company, entrepreneurs often make the mistake of launching too many initiatives when, in reality, they should launch fewer and be more focused. It’s easy to want to jump on the bandwagon of whatever the new, shiny thing is, so sometimes the best thing you can do to cut through the noise is to ask yourself, “Which idea do I truly love?

For some abusive men, the blame-the-childhood approach has an additional reason for being appealing: By focusing on what his mother did wrong, he gets to blame a woman for his mistreatment of women. This explanation can also appeal to the abused woman herself, since it makes sense out of his behavior and gives her someone safe to be angry at since getting angry at him always seems to blow up in her face. The particular, has often jumped on this bandwagon instead of confronting the hard questions that partner abuse raises. Abuse of women by men is so rampant that, unless people can somehow make it women's own fault, they are forced to take on a number of uncomfortable questions about men and about much of male thinking. So it may seem easier to just lay the problem at the feet of the man's mother?

It's very important to me to be respected by true talented artists and great minds than by the masses who need to be told how to think. It's more important for me to do things that are spiritually rewarding because that wealth is what makes me feel alive. I do not touch projects that do not yield personal fulfillment, or put me in a field with talent that is over-measured. You won't find me where there is no Truth. And I'm not one to jump on any bandwagons or join a gold rush without a purpose. I'd rather create my own projects and grow my own fields.

The American people did not care. That kind of popularity sooner or later assumes its own dynamic and generates its own magnetism. Some people saw early on that this unlikely man was becoming irresistibly emblematic to the American people. Some of these visionaries were longtime friends, some were political opportunists jumping on an accelerating bandwagon, but they all whispered the word “presidency” in Jackson’s ear. They became his handlers as well as his supporters, taking on the task of shaping him to match the image the people had already embraced. In July 1822, his handlers persuaded the Tennessee legislature to nominate him for the presidency, but political observers outside Tennessee interpreted it as a meaningless tribute to an aging hero.

He knew that the venture was not a success, but at the same time, he wouldn't admit that it was a failure. The venture at least gave him bragging rights back in New York and New Jersey. While the joint venture did not generate profit, he could tell everyone how wonderfully well things were going for him in the Far East. The result of such a pattern of behavior was that even more foreign companies were jumping onto the bandwagon. "If those guys can do it, then so can we," the competition would say to itself.

Jeez.” Daniella eyed her textbook with an expression of disgust. “Why does everything with the myths have to do with sex?” “Not every myth has to do with sex,” I argued, pushing myself off the wall so I could properly look Daniella in the eye. “A lot of it does,” Jade said, jumping on the bandwagon. “What about all the animals that gods turned into so they could have sex with mortals? Swans and bulls and eagles.” “That was just Zeus,” I corrected with a disgusted frown. “Then there was the sex cloud!” Jade continued. With a vigor, she yanked Beth’s textbook out of her hand and flipped through. She found her page and held up a picture of a centaur. “Ixion had sex with the Hera-shaped cloud and formed the centaurs.” “Or when Aphrodite cursed that one chick to fall in love with her dad,” Bethany said with clenched teeth and a wrinkled nose. “Everything with Aphrodite has to do with sex,” I reasoned unthinkingly. “True story,” Jade said pointedly. “Didn’t she impregnate a girl?” “She didn’t, but she caused a bear to impregnate a follower of Artemis. Her children turned out to be cannibals until Zeus turned them into birds,” I blurted out, unconsciously correcting my friend about the myth. “I don’t think that’s going to be on the test,” Daniella said skeptically. “That’s it!” Beth said with a triumphant slam of her book. “When in doubt, just write sex. You have a fifty-fifty chance of being right. Why did the Trojan war start? Sex! Why did Hercules complete his twelve tasks? Sex! How did Odysseus win Athena’s favor? Sex!

Black newspapers spoke out on the issue. “Help us to get some of the blessings of democracy here at home first before you jump on the ‘free other peoples’ bandwagon and tell us to go forth and die in a foreign land,” said P. B. Young, the owner of the Norfolk Journal and Guide, in a 1942 editorial

Arguably, some of the biggest current fads are protein supplements and high-strength water-soluble vitamins, both of which when consumed above our nutritional requirements are excreted out of the body, meaning the extra doses generally end up in the toilet. Protein supplements are the heavyweight in the $16-billion sports nutrition world and they’re reportedly used by up to 40 per cent of Americans and 25 per cent of Brits in 2016. Far from being protein deficient, most healthy people in Western countries exceed the daily recommended protein requirements, yet marketing tells us otherwise. The food industry have jumped on the bandwagon, adding a few extra grams of protein to chocolate or granola bars in order to proclaim that their calorie-laden products that used to be high energy are now ‘high protein’ and the perfect snack to slip into your gym bag.

IBM jumped on this bandwagon last week, announcing with Apple a partnership to bring its enterprise expertise to iOS devices.

The comedian Jon Stewart, who was more than willing to jump on the Big-Food-is-bad bandwagon, remarked that pink slime should instead be called “ammonia-soaked centrifuge-separated by-product paste.”15 He was working off a popular narrative. He could have instead featured the harm to a family-owned business that was innovating to make food safer and more affordable by preventing food waste. But that’s not very funny.

Building a killer physique is not a matter of jumping on the bandwagon of some new fad workout program for a few months—it’s a matter of adopting a disciplined, orderly approach to how you handle your body.

Compassion, generosity, caring; these things are more important than you realize, particularly as we age and get older. And remember, what you give out, you get back three fold. Yes, you can speak out against injustice, you can speak out against inequity, but make sure what you're speaking out against actually warrants your attention. Don't jump on the bandwagon of personal rancor and attack. We are all imperfect human beings. We all deserve second changes and the ability to change, grow, and evolve. This is the nature of nature, and always will be.

It wasn't a matter of jumping on the bandwagon; it was a matter of being run over by it.

Bandwagon jumping is great if you’re living in prohibition era America and trying to steal some moonshine, but if you’re doing it to get on board with what’s currently popular you’ll probably end up with no shine, much less the moon.

Public support is a useful tool in this regard. When an elected leader enjoys, say, a 70 percent approval rating, critics jump on the bandwagon, media coverage softens, judges grow more reluctant to rule against the government, and even rival politicians, worried that strident opposition will leave them isolated, tend to keep their heads down.

It is in essence the perfect strategy: promise your enemy short-term profits, and enlist them to help make your country the most powerful in the world. America’s elites have been jumping at the chance to join the bandwagon for over forty years, as if it were a dream come true: get rich while making the world safe for democracy.

I mean, we've never even tried to find any of the other Slayers. Maybe we should do that before jumping on the yay-Nina-kills-things-now bandwagon, which is a pretty bad bandwagon as far as bandwagons go.

Somehow the conversation drifted to G-string bathing suits (or as I call them, “anal floss”). We talked about their popularity and who would—or who should not—be jumping on that fashion bandwagon. Mom was completely in the dark. “What’s a G-string?” she asked. The girls described them in detail. “G-string,” Mom replied. “I’d need two Gs.