Pac Quotes

Pac said Thug Life stood for 'The Hate U Give Little Infants Fucks Everybody'.

If Pac-Man had affected us as kids, we'd all be running around in dark rooms, munching pills and listening to repetitive electronic music.

You do know how to play pinochle?" Mr. D eyed me suspiciously. "I'm afraid not," I said. "I'm afraid not, sir," he said. "Well," he told me, "it is, along with gladiator fighting and Pac-Man, one of the greatest games ever invented by humans. I would expect all civilized young men to know the rules.

Now ain nobody tell us it would be fair no love for my father cause the coward wasn't their" {Tu Pac Shukur}

Today is filled with anger, fueled with hidden hate. Scared of being outkast, afraid of common fate. Today is build on tragedies which no one want's to face. Nightmares to humanity and morally disgraced. Tonight is filled with Rage, violence in the air. Children bred with ruthlessness cause no one at home cares. Tonight I lay my head down but the pressure never stops, knowing that my sanity content when I'm droped. But tomorrow I see change, a chance to build a new, build on spirit intent of heart and ideas based on truth. Tomorrow I wake with second wind and strong because of pride. I know I fought with all my heart to keep the dream alive.

Pac-Man? Or is it Donkey Kong?” In truth, it looked a little more violent and military. A slow grin spread over his face. “Baseball. Think maybe you could stand behind me and give me a few pointers?

Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete proving nature's laws wrong it learned 2 walk without having feet

The bragging was the worst. I hear this in schools all over the country, in cafés and restaurants, in bars, on the Internet, for Pete's sake, on buses, on sidewalks: Women yammering about how little they eat. Oh, I'm Starving, I haven't eaten all day, I think I'll have a great big piece of lettuce, I'm not hungry, I don't like to eat in the morning (in the afternoon, in the evening, on Tuesdays, when my nails aren't painted, when my shin hurts, when it's raining, when it's sunny, on national holidays, after or before 2 A.M.). I heard it in the hospital, that terrible ironic whine from the chapped lips of women starving to death, But I'm not hun-greeee. To hear women tell it, we're never hungry. We live on little Ms. Pac-Man power pellets. Food makes us queasy, food makes us itchy, food is too messy, all I really like to eat is celery. To hear women tell it we're ethereal beings who eat with the greatest distaste, scraping scraps of food between our teeth with our upper lips curled. For your edification, it's bullshit.

fear no man but only God

Only God can judge me now

If you let a person talk long enough, you’ll hear their true intentions.

Wars come and Go but soldiers stay in turn.

we wouldn't ask why a rose with damaged petals

GTA came from Pac-Man. The dots are the little people. There's me in my little, yellow car. And the ghosts are policemen.

For every dark night, there's a brighter day.

Pac said Thug Life stood for ‘The Hate U Give Little Infants Fucks Everybody.’” I raise my eyebrows. “What?” “Listen! The Hate U—the letter U—Give Little Infants Fucks Everybody. T-H-U-G L-I-F-E. Meaning what society give us as youth, it bites them in the ass when we wild out. Get it?” “Damn. Yeah.

Behind every sweet smile, there is a bitter sadness that no one can ever see and feel.

Everybody's at war with different things… I'm at war with my own heart sometimes.

Like Pac-Man, she swallows my ghosts.

Man, get outta here! Tupac was the truth." "Yeah, twenty years ago." "Nah, even now. Like, check this." He points at me, which means he's about to go into one of his Khalil philosophical moments. "'Pac said Thug Life stood for 'The Hate U Give Little Infants Fucks Everybody." I raise my eyebrows. "What?" "Listen! The Hate U - the letter U - Give Little Infants Fucks Everybody. T-H-U-G L-I-F-E. Meaning what society give us as youth, it bites them in the ass when we wild out. Get it?" "Damn. Yeah.

Dionysus snorted. “Oh, I didn’t want you particularly. Any of you silly heroes would do. That Annie girl—” “Annabeth.” “The point is,” he said, “I pulled you into party time to deliver a warning. We are in danger.” “Gee,” I said. “Never would’ve figured that out. Thanks.” He glared at me and momentarily forgot his game. Pac-Man got eaten by the red ghost dude. “Erre es korakas, Blinky!” Dionysus cursed. “I will have your soul!” “Um, he’s a video game character,” I said. “That’s no excuse! And you’re ruining my game, Jorgenson!” “Jackson.” “Whichever!

A woman brought you into this world, so you have no right to disrespect one

vi skulle bli 2pac og zlatan og jordan og tyson og elden og banksy og gründer som musk så det var ikke drømmer vi mangla men håp og derfor vi er her i dag og blir chapo

The Plutocracy’s insatiable hunger for pixelated information is enough to put a bulimic Pac-Man to shame

For Ms. Pac-Man, Anna thought, life was cheap and filled with second chances.

I have learn'd that fearful commenting Is leaden servitor to dull delay; Delay leads impotent and snail-pac'd beggary. Then fiery expedition be my wing, Jove's Mercury, and herald for a king! Go, muster men. My counsel is my shield. We must be brief when traitors brave the field.

Pac-Man?" The beast looked up at me, oversized fangs giving it an expression that straddled the line between deadly and dopey. A string of drool waved pendulum-like from the jaw, pushing it firmly into the latter category. "When he was a puppy, he tried to eat a ghost," Pallas explained.

None of the questions was what I expected. Most of them were esoteric thought experiments, 'How would you turn Pride and Prejudice into a video game?' and 'If you added a button to Pac-Man, what would you want it to do?' Conundrums like 'How come when Mario jumps he can change direction in midair?

If you put your politicians up for sale, as the US does (alone in this among industrialized democracies), then someone will buy them--and it won’t be you; you can’t afford them.

Picture me rollin

Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete Proving nature's laws wrong it learned to walk without having feet Funny it seems, but by keeping its dreams it learned to breathe fresh air Long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else even cared!

Popping M&M’s in the air and going after them and chomping them like Pac-Man. I actually gained weight in space, which no one ever does. The doctors were confounded, but I just loved eating up there.

Visit Arcata, I really do recommend it. Play the nearly impossible to find original Pac Man at the cafe, explore the HSU campus, see a two-dollar movie, buy a tofu dog from the vendor in Town Square, sleep on the rooftops, and if they ask you what time it is, there's only one correct answer--'4:20'!

God When I was alone and had nothing I asked 4 a friend 2 help me bear the pain no one came except... GOD When I needed a breath 2 rise from my sleep no one could help me except.... GOD When all I saw was sadness and I needed answers no one heard me except.... GOD So when I am asked who I give my unconditional love 2 look for no other name except..... GOD!

Nowadays they hate for nothin’. You ain’t even gotta have nothin’. They hatin’ on homeless people and shit. Like, “How he get him another plate? Aw man, hell naw. Fuck that homeless nigga.” 2Pac told you muhfuckas will hate you for whatever you do, good or bad. No matter what. So you might as well get used to it.

An older, inebriated Scot who looked like he'd been sitting on his barstool all day looked me up and down, then smelled the air. "Heh, neebr, goat a deid an'mal in yer bac'pac, or iz it ye tha' bloody stinks?" My brain took a moment to translate. "Actually, yes, there is a dead animal in my backpack, but I probably stink, too.

If you let a person talk long enough, you’ll hear their true intentions.

Even the genius asks questions.

My inspiration for writing music is like Don McLean did when he did "American Pie" or "Vincent". Lorraine Hansberry with "A Raisin in the Sun". Like Shakespeare when he does his thing, like deep stories, raw human needs. I'm trying to think of a good analogy. It's like, you've got the Vietnam War, and because you had reporters showing us pictures of the war at home, that's what made the war end, or that shit would have lasted longer. If no one knew what was going on we would have thought they were just dying valiantly in some beautiful way. But because we saw the horror, that's what made us stop the war. So I thought, that's what I'm going to do as an artist, as a rapper. I'm gonna show the most graphic details of what I see in my community and hopefully they'll stop it quick. I've seen all of that-- the crack babies, what we had to go through, losing everything, being poor, and getting beat down. All of that. Being the person I am, I said no no no no. I'm changing this.

By controlling the mass media – television, newspapers, radio, and print – the secret organization with the code name, Rothfellers, convinced people on earth to rebuild their weapons systems as a means of providing money and jobs for everyone. Computer games such as Tron, Space Commander, Defender, and PacMan, replaced Monopoly and other home games during the last of the twentieth century. The games were a scheme of the Rothfellers, with the aid of President Sam Emen, to secretly prepare young boys and girls for nuclear wars by programming their minds to handle computertized warfare. Such preparation would be useful, once the draft was brought into full force.

Cică sunt antisocială. Nu mă integrez. E foarte bizar. De fapt, sunt o fiinţă foarte sociabilă. Totul depinde de ceea ce înţelegi prin sociabil, nu? Pentru mine sociabil înseamnă să discut cu tine despre astfel de lucruri. Sau să vorbesc despre cât de ciudată este lumea. E plăcut să fii cu oameni. Dar nu cred că sociabil înseamnă să aduni la un loc un grup de persoane şi să nu le dai voie să vorbească, n-am dreptate? O oră de televiziune, o oră de baschet,baseball sau alergări, altă oră de istoria transcrierii sau de pictură, iarăşi sport, însă niciodată nu punem întrebări, adică cei mai mulţi dintre noi nu întreabă; pur şi simplu, ni se indică răspunsurile, pac, pac, pac, şi noi stăm acolo încă patru ore de film. Mie nu mi se pare deloc că asta înseamnă să fii sociabil. Ce fel de sociabilitate e asta? E ca și cum ai lua niște vase cu fundul spart și-ai turna apă-n ele printr-o mulțime de pâlnii și-ai pretinde apoi că e vin (..) N-am nici un prieten. Asta ar trebui să fie o dovadă că sunt anormală. Dar toţi cei pe care-i cunosc urlă şi dansează ca nişte apucaţi sau se încaieră între ei. Ai remarcat cât de brutali au devenit oamenii unii cu alții?

We, proudly, were the only campaign not to have a super PAC. In a manner unprecedented in American history, we received some 8 million individual campaign contributions. The average contribution was $27. These donations came from 2.5 million Americans, the vast majority of whom were low- or moderate-income people.

A lot of rappers have tried to become stars by taking on the thug persona—Ja Rule, for example—but they just weren’t as committed as ’Pac.

Skyrim-inspired sweet rolls and classic BioShock cream-filled cakes and maraschino truffle odes to Pac-Man cherries.

Pac-Man Maybe Pac-Man, is a story about all the endings you can stomach in a lifetime,

Based on my reading, the human brain is mostly a voracious consumer of patterns, a soft pudgy gray Pac-Man of concepts. Games are just exceptionally tasty patterns to eat up.

offices of Love, how we may light’n Each others burden in our share of woe; Since this days Death denounc’t, if ought I see, Will prove no sudden, but a slow-pac’t evill, A

Solculuk Pac-Man oyunu gibidir. Çok fazla sola giderseniz, kendinizi bir anda en sağ uçta bulursunuz.

I have learn'd that fearful commenting Is leaden servitor to dull delay; Delay leads impotent and snail-pac'd beggary.

leadership PACs are not about benefits for districts: they are about benefits for members of Congress.

Three things make people want to change. One is that they hurt sufficiently. They have beat their heads against the same wall so long that they decide they have had enough. They have invested in the same slot machines without a pay-off for so long that they finally are willing either to stop playing, or to move on to others. Their migraines hurt, their ulcers bleed. They are alcoholic. They have hit the bottom. They beg for relief. They want to change. Another thing that makes people want to change is a slow type of despair called ennui, or boredom. This is what the person has who goes through life saying, "So what?" until he finally asks the ultimate big "So What?" He is ready to change. A third thing that makes people want to change is the sudden discovery that they can. This has been an observable effect of Transactional Analysis. Many people who have shown no particular desire to change have been exposed to Transactional Analysis through lectures or by hearing about it from someone else. This knowledge has produced an excitement about new possibilities, which has led to their further inquiry and a growing desire to change. There is also the type of patient who, although suffering from disabling symptoms, still does not really want to change. His treatment contract reads, "I'll promise to let you help me if I don't have to get well." This negative attitude changes, however, as the patient begins to see that there is indeed another way to live. A working knowledge of P-A-C makes it possible for the Adult to explore new and exciting frontiers of life, a desire which has been there all along but has been buried under the burden of the NOT OK.

The group’s lists had value, and lawyers for Ready for Hillary and the Clinton campaign would spend weeks planning how they could legally transfer all the data from the super PAC to the campaign. In

And since we all came from a woman Got our name from a woman and our game from a woman I wonder why we take from our women Why we rape our women, do we hate our women? I think it's time to kill for our women Time to heal our women, be real to our women And if we don't we'll have a race of babies That will hate the ladies, that make the babies And since a man can't make one He has no right to tell a woman when and where to create one So will the real men get up I know you're fed up ladies, but keep your head up

Ivan Law is Responsible for solving the Pac and Biggie case. Dr Dre and Ice Cube are responsible for the murders. However, the killers remain at large with a bounty of $100,000.00 on their heads for arrest and conviction.

Staring down at my wrist, I can’t believe what I’m looking at. This adorably sweet and sexy man has just placed a very colorful linked bracelet of the cutest Pac-Man on my wrist. It has a yellow Pac-Man with the blue, red, pink, and orange monsters on it. “I love it!” I manage as I swallow back my tears of joy. I throw myself around him and say, “Thank you.” He lifts me up and twirls me just once before setting me down. “Happy?” Smiling up at him, I respond, “More than happy.

According to an article on Issuewire, Ivan Law is responsible for solving the Pac and Biggie case. Dr Dre and Ice Cube are responsible for the murders. However, the killers remain at large with a bounty of $100,000.00 on their heads for arrest and conviction1

Corporations and billionaires promptly formed super PACs, political action committees that were allowed to take funds from “dark money” groups—nonprofits that do not have to disclose their donors. In 2006, dark money made up less than $5 million of spending in federal elections. By 2012 it was more than $300 million.[5]

It's actually not true that our literary culture is nihilistic, at least not in the radical sense of Turgenev's Bazarov. For there are certain tendencies we believe are bad, qualities we hate and fear. Among these are sentimentality, naivete, archaism, fanaticism. It would probably be better to call our own art's culture now one of congenital skepticism. Our intelligentsia distrust strong belief, open conviction. Material passion is one thing, but idealogical passion disgusts us on some deep level. We believe that ideology is now the province of the rival SIGs and PACs all trying to get their slice of the big green pie...and, looking around us, we see that indeed it is so. But Frank's Dostoevsky would point out (or more like hop up and down and shake his fist and fly at us and shout) that if this is so, it's at least partly because we have abandoned the field. That we've abandoned it to fundamentalists whose pitiless rigidity and eagerness to judge show that they're clueless about the "Christian values" they would impose on others.

Tell me, how many real motherfuckers feel me? I smoke a blunt and freak the funk until these jealous motherfuckers kill me I'm out the gutter, pick a hero I'm 165 and staying high til I die, my competion's zero Cause I could give a fuck about you, better duck Or I'll be forced to hit yo ass up I give a fuck I'm sick inside my mind, why you sweatin me? It's gonna take an army full of crooked ass cops to come and get me Niggaz know I ain't the one to sleep on, I'm under pressure Gotta sleep with my piece, an extra clip beside my dresser Word to God I've been ready to die since I was born I don't want no shit but niggaz trip and yo it's on Open fire on my adversaries, don't even worry Better have on a vest aim for the chest and then you buried

Nintendo not letting itself make a browser Mario game has not stopped a flash flood of in-browser Mario games. Super Mario Flash, New Super Mario Bros. Flash, Infinite Mario, and the amazing Super Mario Crossover, which lets you play the original SMB games using characters from Castlevania, Excitebike, Ninja Gaidan, and more. (If you like that, try Abobo's Big Adventure.) There are free (and unlicensed) Mario games where he rides a motorbike, takes a shotgun to the Mushroom Kingdom, decides to fight with his fists, is replaced by Sonic, replaces Pac-Man in a maze game, and plays dress-up. They receive no admonition from Nintendo's once-ferocious legal department. Why not? Iwata's explanation is commonsensical: "[I]t would not be appropriate if we treated people who did someone based on affection for Nintendo as criminals." This is also why no one has been told by lawyers to stop selling Wario-as-a-pimp T-shirts.

We've seen it over and over throughout history, it isn't a conspiracy theory anymore that the truly great ones get taken out. That's a trend, but when will people realize that after new world order, worldwide communism will take place.

If only the real world operated like Elfscape,” Pwnage said, chewing. “If only marriages worked that way. Like every time I did something right I earned man points until I was a grand-master level-hundred husband. Or when I was a jackass to Lisa I’d lose points and the closer I was to zero the closer I’d be to divorce. It would also be helpful if these events came with associated sound effects. Like that sound when Pac-Man shrivels up and dies. Or when you bid too high on The Price Is Right. That chorus of failure.

The admiral was famously unflappable, but found the attack on Pearl Harbor a shattering experience. Spruance revealed this only to his wife and daughter, then waited anxiously for Admiral Chester Nimitz to take over as CincPac—Commander in Chief Pacific Fleet. After the obscenity at Pearl, America’s Pacific Fleet leadership was demoralized. Spruance sensed that Nimitz would inject some sorely needed fighting spirit, and he was right. Nimitz proved bold, aggressive, confident. Energized, the Pacific fleet began to sortie out and fight back. Spruance was elated.

In March 2015, sixteen accused policemen were acquitted of their involvement in the Hashimpura massacre, making minorities even more cynical about the promises of justice from secular parties. The case dated back to 1987 when riots had erupted in Meerut. Men from UP’s Provincial Armed Constabulary (PAC) dragged out young Muslim men, most of them poor daily wagers and weavers, drove them to the Upper Ganga Canal in Ghaziabad instead of to the police station, and threw them in one by one. V. N. Rai, who was superintendent of police in Ghaziabad, wrote a chilling account of how the police—who described Meerut as a ‘mini Pakistan’ and held the Muslims solely responsible for the violence—had behaved. ‘Every survivor who hit the ground after being shot at tried hard to pretend he is dead and most hanged on the canal’s embankments with their heads in water and the body clutched by weeds to show to their killers that they were dead and no more gunshots fired at them. Even after the PAC personnel had left, they lay still between water, blood and slush. They were too scared and numbed even to help those who were still alive or half dead.

Careful! Ms. Pac-Man only gets to stay on this side as long as Pac-Man survives on his. True love, right? If I don't find the portal before you die," Maura warned him, "I vanish. Literally. We'll have to reset the game to get her to show up again." "Happy Meal, huh? To bring a ghost back from the Dead?" Kostya maneuvered Pac-Man around a corner. "That's kind of on the nose." "Well, Hungry Ghosts are the kind that come back." Maura grinned. "Feeding the Dead to help them cross--- it's a whole thing in, like, a dozen different traditions. Japan. China. Mexico. Ancient Egypt. I figured it'd be up your alley.

My cold-weather gear left a lot to be desired: black maternity leggings under boot-cut maternity jeans, and a couple of Marlboro Man’s white T-shirts under an extra-large ASU sweatshirt. I was so happy to have something warm to wear that I didn’t even care that I was wearing the letters of my Pac-10 rival. Add Marlboro Man’s old lumberjack cap and mud boots that were four sizes too big and I was on my way to being a complete beauty queen. I seriously didn’t know how Marlboro Man would be able to keep his hands off of me. If I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the feed truck, I’d shiver violently.

The maze reappeared, in ghostly blue this time, the pellets punctuated by countless miniature foods--- not only fruits but pixelated pizza slices, tiny sushi rolls, petite hamburgers. Ms. Pac-Man faded onto the screen, not in the bottom half, where she usually started, but in the central box, where the ghosts usually did. Instead of her trademark yellow, she appeared blinking, in blue. "She's--- she's one of the ghosts?" Maura took up the controls again. Kostya watched her move through the maze, eating everything in sight. "It's a secret level," Maura told him. "Only available in the 1983 rerelease of the Japanese cabinet. It's called the Hungry Ghost Maze." "So it's a bonus round? The point's just to... get more points?" "The points don't matter in the ghost realm. To clear this level, you have to find the Happy Meal. Hidden in one of these fruits is a portal that gets you back to the real world.

My cold-weather gear left a lot to be desired: black maternity leggings under boot-cut maternity jeans, and a couple of Marlboro Man’s white T-shirts under an extra-large ASU sweatshirt. I was so happy to have something warm to wear that I didn’t even care that I was wearing the letters of my Pac-10 rival. Add Marlboro Man’s old lumberjack cap and mud boots that were four sizes too big and I was on my way to being a complete beauty queen. I seriously didn’t know how Marlboro Man would be able to keep his hands off of me. If I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the feed truck, I’d shiver violently. But really, when it came right down to it, I didn’t care. No matter what I looked like, it just didn’t feel right sending Marlboro Man into the cold, lonely world day after day. Even though I was new at marriage, I still sensed that somehow--whether because of biology or societal conditioning or religious mandate or the position of the moon--it was I who was to be the cushion between Marlboro Man and the cruel, hard world. That it was I who’d needed to dust off his shoulders every day. And though he didn’t say it, I could tell that he felt better when I was bouncing along, chubby and carrying his child, in his feed truck next to him. Occasionally I’d hop out of the pickup and open gates. Other times he’d hop out and open them. Sometimes I’d drive while he threw hay off the back of the vehicles. Sometimes I’d get stuck and he’d say shit. Sometimes we’d just sit in silence, shivering as the vehicle doors opened and closed. Other times we’d engage in serious conversation or stop and make out in the snow. All the while, our gestating baby rested in the warmth of my body, blissfully unaware of all the work that awaited him on this ranch where his dad had grown up. As I accompanied Marlboro Man on those long, frigid mornings of work, I wondered if our child would ever know the fun of sledding on a golf course hill…or any hill, for that matter. I’d lived on the ranch for five months and didn’t remember ever hearing about anyone sledding…or playing golf…or participating in any recreational activities at all. I was just beginning to wrap my mind around the way daily life unfolded here: wake up early, get your work done, eat, relax, and go to bed. Repeat daily. There wasn’t a calendar of events or dinner dates with friends in town or really much room for recreation--because that just meant double the work when you got back to work. It was hard for me not to wonder when any of these people ever went out and had a good time, or built a snowman. Or slept past 5:00 A.M.

In other countries, the president or a group of generals takes over the media and says due to—fill in the bullshit reason—martial law is being declared and elections are being suspended because there are enemies of the country all over, and also in high places. That justifies them snubbing their noses at democratic norms. Then the president says he’s going to serve for life. I mean look at what happened in China. Or the generals could drive tanks to the capital and tell everyone that they’re in charge and will save them. All the citizens have to do is follow orders. Or it could be a group of top-level advisors pulling off a junta. Or a bunch of billionaires tired of simply throwing money at the problem through their super PACs, and opting for a more direct route to get what they want.

The Christian right would like the world to believe it was the political arm of Jesus Christ, come to life to save a sinful America. In practice it operates more like a Christian-related super PAC for a white America. The professional politicization of Christianity as a right-wing force was always more about the acquisition of power than a commitment to Christianity.

No shade to Tess, she was a perfectly good lay, but I would buy the Hitler-is-still-alive-and-lives-with-2PAC conspiracy—logic and math be damned—before believing their acting.

Not bad,” I said. “Bwngkabwngkabwngkabwngkabwngka,” she said. An extremely faithful approximation, much closer than my own. “Pac-Man.” “Your turn.” “Tsssschhhhhhrrrrw,” I said. “Defender shot,” she said. “Dyeu! Dyeu, dyeu, dyeu, dyudyudydyeu!” It was a small and round sound, like a skipping record of a bleating lamb. “Asteroids shot,” I said. “PCCCCCH … chchchchchcht.” “Centipede death, followed by counting of the mushrooms, Pwupup … pwupup! Pwupup … pwupup!” “Crazy Climber climbing,” I said without hesitation, and threw her a curve: “SHHHHHHHHHSHHHHHSHHHHH-SHHHHSHHHHHHHH.

A wise man once said, don’t revel in how much something sucks, ask yourself how you could make it suck more. That is the key to happiness.” Some of the soldiers scrunched their foreheads in thought. “Don’t you mean, make it suck less?” Marcie laughed again. “How you deal with the suck is what will make the Trans-Pac great. That is the stuff of legends! Do you think normal people would do this?” “Fuck normal!” someone shouted from up front. The

With varying degrees of subtlety and varying degrees of success, GOP candidates adopted it as their central theme, whether they were running for president or trying to get elected to the local school board. It became the template for Fox News and conservative radio, the foundational text for every think tank and PAC the Koch Brothers financed: The government was taking money, jobs, college slots, and status away from hardworking, deserving people like us and handing it all to people like them—those who didn’t share our values, who didn’t work as hard as we did, the kind of people whose problems were of their own making. The intensity of these convictions put Democrats on the defensive, making leaders less bold about proposing new initiatives, limiting the boundaries of political debate. A deep and suffocating cynicism took hold. Indeed, it became axiomatic among political consultants of both parties that restoring trust in the government or in any of our major institutions was a lost cause, and that the battle between Democrats and Republicans each election cycle now came down to whether America’s squeezed middle class was more likely to identify the wealthy and powerful or the poor and minorities as the reason they weren’t doing better.

In fact, Facebook’s PAC had donated to the campaigns of more than half of all the lawmakers questioning Zuckerberg over the two days of testimonies.

Being a kid in 1978 was pretty amazing. Not only were arcades on the rise, but Garfield, that lovable lasagna-eating orange cat, was in just about every newspaper across the country, Superman was in theaters for the first time, the Bee Gees were topping the music charts with songs from Saturday Night Fever, and The Incredible Hulk was the number one TV show in America. Like I said, it was a good time to be a kid.

Space Invaders went on to set record after record after it invaded the planet. More than four hundred thousand arcade cabinets were made, and the game pulled in more than 3.8 billion dollars by 1982. If you factor in inflation, that would be THIRTEEN BILLION DOLLARS today, making it one of the highest-grossing video games of all time. Yeah. Billion. With a B!

Space Invaders was the first shooter game—Halo’s great-great-great-grandfather.

Platforms and Culture (PAC): The new requirement for your advertising knowledge

And right after the decision removing limits from PAC donations, the number of business PACs increased from three hundred to twelve hundred, generating gushers of money that helped triple the cost of campaigns for a House seat by the mid-1980s, which in turn gave PACs more power, and so on it has gone ever since, a vicious cycle corrupting democracy.

Also, the NFL asked EA to take out a fan favorite a few years back by having them remove the ambulance. Starting in 1992, when a player was injured, an ambulance would zoom on field, pushing (running over) healthy players out of the way to help the injured. It was a lighthearted feature, and while it was a fan favorite, it wasn’t the most sensitive approach to an injury. The ambulance last appeared in 2001.

There are a lot of stories about where the name Donkey Kong actually came from—everything from a bad fax that made the Nintendo of America team misread Monkey Kong, thinking the M was a D, to its being named after King Kong. But in the end, Miyamoto said it was simpler than that. They wanted an English name because they knew the game would be a hit in America. The word donkey was used to imply something silly, or dumb, and in Japan, kong is a slang word used for an ape. Basically, Miyamoto and crew were naming the game Silly Ape, but they felt Donkey Kong was, well, just more fun to say.

Like Pac, I didn’t care about being the one to make change; but I did want to be the one who helped or inspired someone to do it.

We need to develop a more nuanced mental map of the digital landscape. Social media is not synonymous with the internet, smartphones are not equivalent to desktop computers or laptops, PacMan is not World of Warcraft, and the 2006 version of Facebook is not the 2024 version of TikTok. Almost all of it is more harmful to preteens than to older teens. I’m not saying that 11-year-olds should be kept off the internet. I’m saying that the Great Rewiring of Childhood, in which the phone-based childhood replaced the play-based childhood, is the major cause of the international epidemic of adolescent mental illness. We need to be careful about which kids have access to which products, at which ages, and on which devices. Unfettered access to everything, everywhere, at any age has been a disaster, even if there are a few benefits.

No high schools exist in southern Austin east of I-35 or west of MoPac. Money to buy property for the schools — $32 million — was part of $344 million in bonds approved by voters in 2008.

Suburban or not, something most definitely went wrong and we’re still trying to figure it out. But if you ask me, Pac and that dickhead at Debate Club had a lot to do with it. We never tried to join a club, after-school activity, or anything productive, for that matter, ever again. The Honor Roll wasn’t something we wanted to be part of. We gave up on doing it their way, we wanted to get free.

When asked if he knew about Pac-Man, Reagan quipped: “Someone told me it was a round thing that gobbles up money. I thought it was Tip O’Neill.

I feel that the government should uphold the concept that it is there for us, “We the People.” That it does what we alone cannot do. By standing unified and proud, we have strength because of our numbers and the power to do what is right. That we always remain on the right side of history and care for and respect our less fortunate. Now, you may think that I’m just spouting out a lot of patriotic nonsense, which you are entitled to do, however I did serve my country actively in both the Navy and Army for a total of forty years, six months and seven days as a reservist and feel that I have an equal vested interest in these United States. If we don’t like what is happening we have responsible ways and means to change things. We have Constitutional, “First Amendment Rights to Freedom of Speech.” There are many things I would like to see change and there are ways that we can do this. To start with we have to protect our First Amendment Rights and protect the media from government interference…. I also believe in protecting our individual freedom…. I believe in one person, one vote…. Corporations are not people, for one they have no human feelings…. That although our government may be misdirected it is not the enemy…. I want reasonable regulations to protect us from harm…. That we not privatize everything in sight such as prisons, schools, roads, social security, Medicare, libraries etc.….. Entitlements that have been earned should not be tampered with…. That college education should be free or at least reasonable…. That health care becomes free or very reasonable priced for all…. That lobbyist be limited in how they can manipulate our lawmakers…. That people, not corporations or political action committees (PAC’s), can only give limited amounts of money to candidates…. That our taxes be simplified, fair and on a graduated scale without loop holes….That government stays out of our personal lives, unless our actions affect others…. That our government stays out of women’s issues, other than to insure equal rights…. That the law (police) respects all people and treats them with the dignity they deserve…. That we no longer have a death penalty…. That our military observe the Geneva Conventions and never resort to any form of torture…. That the Police, FBI, CIA or other government entities be limited in their actions, and that they never bully or disrespect people that are in their charge or care…. That we never harbor prisoners overseas to avoid their protection by American law…. That everyone, without exception, is equal…. And, in a general way, that we constantly strive for a more perfect Union and consider ourselves members of a greater American family, or at the very least, as guests in our country. As Americans we are better than what we have witnessed lately. The idea that we will go beyond our rights is insane and should be discouraged and outlawed. As a country let us look forward to a bright and productive future, and let us find common ground, pulling in the same direction. We all deserve to feel safe from persecution and/or our enemies. We should also be open minded enough to see what works in other countries. If we are going to “Make America Great Again” we should start by being more civil and kinder to each other. Now this is all just a thought, but it’s a start…. “We’re Still Here!

pidin itsestäni kun olin laiha ja ilmeetön nyt kaikki nuoruuden sentimentaalisuus vyöryy taas lävitseni mä rakastan kaikkia paitsi niitä joita vihaan mä haluan myydä veritimantteja ja kuolla viidakkoon minkä ikäinen jeesus oli kun se kuoli 2pac oli 25 se ei oo mitään mä oon jo liian vanha interreilaamaan 30 ja reppu selässä hyi vittu oliko morrissey aina noin mulkku vai tuliko siitä vasta vanhetessa tollanen onko se kulttuuriappropriaatiota vittu mikä sana jos musta tuntuu että sisälläni asuu neuroottinen juutalainen ukko joka haluaa vain syödä pastraminsa rauhassa itke suihkussa aurinkolasit päässä usher: yeah onko käteen vetämisestä jäänyt aina näin paska fiilis vai onko tääkin vain ikääntymistä en erota enää paniikkikohtauksia orgasmeista post post post alfa alfa alfa ilman puudutusta kiitos herään leikkauspöydältä veitsi vielä sisälläni olemme pahoillamme sukupolvenne oli amputoitava terveellä jalalla voit vielä hypätä benjihypyn narulla tai ilman

As soon as we finished eating, we went to the back room where Dave or Bubba had set up half a dozen pool tables. Along the walls were pinball and old video game machines. I’m talking original Pac-Man. It was like this was where old games were put out to pasture.

The various and dispiriting candidates of recent years have offered their own explanations for the mystery of American underperformance, though being mainly Boomers themselves and dependent on Boomer votes, they have relocated blame to other suspects: unfair trade, rapacious immigrants, vicious superPACs, greedy corporations, hyperpartisanship, foreign terrorism, a predatory 1 percent or a lazy 99 percent, too much federal government or too little, not enough Trumpism and altogether too much.

The Kremlin’s information warfare was roughly equivalent to a hostile super PAC unleashing a major ad campaign, if not worse. Of course it had an impact.

If you let a person talk long enough, you’ll hear their true intentions. Listen twice, speak once. - 2Pac

There was no room in his kingdom for the princes of the defunct super PAC. Once he’d extracted the group’s lists, which he thought had limited value, they were done.

A good sailboat (and skipper) works with the sea and therefore reaps the benefits of kinship with the world that no amount of money can buy. When you live in such a pristine environment as the ocean, there is a great deal of pleasure to be derived from feeling like a part of her, rather than her enemy. The rich boater, consuming all in his path (like some kind of marine Pac-Man) to feed his power-hungry leviathan will never know this feeling. The

democracy should be a nation in which all people, regardless of their income, can participate in the political process, and can run for office without begging for contributions from the wealthy. Our vision for the future of this country should be one in which candidates are not telling billionaires at special forums what they can do for them in exchange for large contributions. Our vision for democracy should be one in which candidates are speaking to the vast majority of our people—working people, the middle class, low-income people, the elderly, the children, the sick, and the poor—and discussing with them their ideas as to how we can improve lives for all of the people in this country. One of the truly remarkable aspects of my campaign was that we showed the world that a successful national campaign could be run without a super PAC, and without being dependent on big-money contributions. We received some $232 million from 8 million individual contributions, from 2.5 million people, averaging $27 per contribution. What my campaign showed, and what poll after poll has shown, is that the American people are sick and tired of big money buying elections and democracy being undermined. The time is now for campaign finance reform—real campaign finance reform.

I am hopeful that the PAC will examine these issues, as well as the processes and legal propriety of Pratyush Sinha’s khap panchayat carefully, particularly regarding its tainted chairmanship and tainted membership of Chairman ISRO Dr Radhakrishnan, who not only had silently approved the construction of GSAT 6A in the Space Commission, but also hobnobbed with Devas, even after the Space Commission’s decision to annul the deal. Cherry-picking the guilty only substantiates my suspicion that the Pratyush Sinha Committee had clear instructions from its appointers about who should be made the fall guys, and who should be let off. An examination of the Space Commission membership that approved GSAT 6 and GSAT 6A, with their present and past positions will give accurate information of those members who knew about the deal and sat like silent conspirators, committing the same offence of concealing facts from the Space Commission as Madhavan Nair. Why have they been exonerated?

I’ve always had the ability to memorize complicated things and remember them. I mastered the Rubik’s Cube by reading a book on it and memorizing the patterns and methods of aligning the colors quickly. I entered a contest at Magic Mountain theme park with a hundred other kids. I did it in 60 seconds, but the kid who won did it in 23. Same for the video games I played. I read a book on how to master Pac-Man. The book had drawings of the patterns he could take in the maze. There were dozens of boards to memorize, but once I did, I could play the game for hours on a single quarter at Chuck E. Cheese.

me and quips that the PAC could use a good attorney

The casino magnate Sheldon Adelson would pour at least $60 million into the 2012 election, seeking in part to protect foreign tax shelters worth billions. Super PAC spending via the Wyoming mutual-fund honcho Foster Friess was said to have powered Rick Santorum’s upset win in the Iowa caucuses, which in turn kept Santorum going for months. Not since the Gilded Age had a handful of super-rich individuals so easily used their fortunes to fuel the presidential ambitions of a few people so radically out of the mainstream of American politics.