Air Sickness
Ready for vengeance, everyone?
It is I, the Great Shopping Avenger, reporting to you from the Great Hall of Consumer Justice, a k a the Shopping Avenger's poorly air-conditioned attic office.
The Shopping Avenger has had a terribly busy month (Aquaman never had it so busy), and he is pleased to report that demand for his services has grown exponentially. He is also disconcerted, because the sheer number of e-mails in response to last month's installment means that too many evil corporations are treating too many loyal consumers without regard for the basic norms of customer care, such as answering the phone and not calling customers bad names.
Read more
Share This
The Color of Suspicion
Sgt. Mike Lewis of the Maryland State Police is a bull-necked, megaphone-voiced, highly caffeinated drug warrior who, on this shiny May morning outside of Annapolis, is conceding defeat. The drug war is over, the good guys have lost and he has been cast as a racist. "This is the end, buddy," he says. "I can read the writing on the wall." Lewis is driving his unmarked Crown Victoria down the fast lane of Route 50, looking for bad guys. The back of his neck is burnt by the sun, and he wears his hair flat and short under his regulation Stetson.
Read more
Share This
Playing With Firearms
"This," Tom Clancy said as he pulled a jet black semiautomatic rifle from his bedroom closet, "is my home defense weapon."
Clancy, who keeps his guns where most men keep their socks, handed over the HK G94 rifle. "If somebody breaks into my house and comes upstairs," he said, "it's going to be a bad career move. You can't miss with this."
This is not true. Shortly, in Clancy's basement shooting range--Clancy keeps a shooting range where most people keep their washers and dryers--I would miss with the HK G94.
Read more
Share This
| 
Prisoners
