Adam Greenfield, of the design-centric website v-2 Organisation, has endured one-too-many rants on the evils of corporate consumer products and is telling everyone to shut the hell up.

On Ikea: “You know what? I’m done with it. If your life is mediocre, I promise you, Ingvar Kamprad didn’t make it that way. You did. And if you’re so desperate for your own soixante-huit moment that you can sit there with a straight face and tell me that you’re being oppressed by flat-packable pine furniture with goofy pseudo-Scandinavian names, I’d advise you to spend a few days working with child slaves in the Sudan, or something.”

(via caoine.org)

Is anyone else a little disturbed by these studies that keep telling us that our vices are actually healthful. First they told us that a drink a day was good for your heart, now they say that coffee can prevent parkinsons and diabetes. The next study will probably show that smoking actually releases nano-bots into your bloodstream that seek out and destroy ebola and SARS infected cells with ultra-violet lasers. It’s enough to make a man want to start using amphetimines just to see what happens.

A semi-frightening prospect from Phooeyhoo.com in the wake of the MyDoom virus, and to a lesser extent the Puppy War:

With the sensitive nature of electronic missives and transmissions, hacking a network will soon become more popular (and let’s face it more lucrative) then cracking a safe in a bank. Advocacy groups could easily use virus technology to annoy the heck out of users. Imagine PETA putting a picture of a bovine with a brain disease on your desktop. (And don’t think they won’t.)

Hey, as long as we can hit PETA’s servers with images of bacon-wrapped filet mignon with a side of lamb’s brain, all’s fair in war.

The ODE‘s Aimee Rudin apparently has freakishly long arms. Good job, that cartoonist.

Meanwhile, I now have an excuse to go back in time a little. Some of you are already familiar with this piece, in which we learn that:

My best friend answers her phone while she’s on the toilet. She’s had whole conversations with her pants around her ankles.

As it stands, it’s a little too spew-worthy, especially if the first sentence is elided for extra humorous loss of context. But good accompanying text is hard to settle on. So far, the frontrunner is “Hey! Give me my belt back!” but other suggestions are welcome.

You know I’m going to keep linking to these. This week, Shack offers to buy three shares of News Corp. stock, at $38.60 a share, if someone at Fox will finally euthanize Tru Calling. Meanwhile, he muses that “this show would actually be less painful if the characters occasionally reached out of the television and punched me in the face.”