I realize now that my former post makes it sound like people who smoke a lot may be in danger of losing custody of their kids. I didn’t mean that. I only meant, of course, that out of all of my niece’s habits, the one that really bothers her grandmother is the interracial thing.
A woman at work gave a couple of gems when the weather report was on TV.
“What season is it in New Zealand?” (check my location to see why this is even stupider than it sounds)
“What are those numbers after the city names?”
Heh heh heh. 
Oh, they don’t have a lock on it. My favorite Fundamental Bullshit as it relates to gender roles in religion (which may not be the most ignorant thing I’ve ever heard, but it’s close up there) comes from the Lakota (and several other Native American religions as practiced today) where the women have to wear long sleeves, high collars and long skirts in summer while the men are running around in loincloths or shorts and no shirts. Women are not allowed to sit with their knees apart (they can’t sit, for example, “Indian style” or tailor position), they’re not allowed to participate with the men in many rituals, but must mind the children and their beadwork with the women (even if none of the children are theirs and they hate sewing) an they’re not allowed in sweat during menstruation. The reason for this? They’re “so powerful” with their unique connection to the earth and the forces of wimminhood that they’ll interfere with the energy the men are trying to vibe to.
This has been explained to me many times, by many different leaders, including pipe bearers. What no one has been able to satisfactorily answer is if women’s medicine is so strong that it knocks men’s medicine all askew, shouldn’t it be the women praying in the sweat while the men go bead and watch the little ones? :dubious:
Did a whole lot to disillusion me around the whole “noble Native American” mythos. They’re about thisfar from burqua, man. (Although, to be entirely fair, I think a lot of it is Victorian mores which crept into their people after the white people came. I hope, anyway.)
My favorite ignorant comment comes from my beloved brother. He’d gone on a cruise to Jamaica and somewhere else. When asked which he liked better, he said the other place because, “There are too many niggers in Jamaica.”
Can’t count how many types of wrong this is.
At least he didn’t call them “African-American”… (d & r)
Lasers were fairly new at that time. It’s disappointing but not totally outrageous that the teacher hadn’t heard of them. And it’s not like today where anyone with a CD player, computer, or game console has a cheap, mass produced laser laying around.
A friend of mine works at an optical department. When she was pregnant, some customer told her that she shouldn’t raise her arms over her head or the baby would strangle on the umbilical cord.
And then there’s this completely braindead argument for Young Earth Creationism:
Yes, that’s damning evidence that the Earth is not billions of years old.
I’ve got one to go with this one.
I worked at one of those Big Box stores as a teenager. It was open 24 hours. There were giant signs everywhere which informed shoppers of this fact, including a large one right below the logo sign out on the street. Whenever you called the store, you were first greeted with a recording. “Thanks for calling your 24-hour [Big Box Store] . . .”
I was answering the phones one day, and a woman asked me what time we closed. I replied that we were open 24 hours-- we never closed.
“Oh!” she said. “So *that’s *what that sign meant!”
I’ve puzzled over this for years. What alternative meaning did she think “Open 24 Hours” could have? Unless she thought we were just open 24 hours a week, in which case, she’s impressively stupid.
You’ve hit it on the head. This is really the thing. I mean, we all of us encounter commonm or garden variety stupidity almost daily, but there is some military spec stupidity that some people possess that makes you think, “Woah. Being that stupid must actually take some brains!”
We had a chain of grocery stores, each of which had a sign proudly bragging, “Open 24 Hours!” And they were open 24 hours a day–except when closed, which happened at midnight on Saturday and Sunday, and on several major holidays. No, I’m not making this up.
What’s worse is that the management didn’t understand why I was upset when I called to complain. “Well,” they said, “The store is open 24 hours,” I was told. “Just not all the time.”
I refer to this as “industrial-strength ignorance.”
We brought our son home at six months from South Korea (well, actually, he was delivered to us). I was arranging daycare for him before he arrived. The daycare woman said “But how will you communicate with him.”
“Huh”
“Well, he won’t speak English.”
“How many six month old babies in your care speak any language at all?”
To give her credit, she was a bright woman, just one of those brain farts.
Heh, WhyNot, I love you.
Up from which is a category I call “Weapons-grade stupidity” for its vast capability to destroy brain cells.
One such case occurred when I worked for a software company about ten years ago. Being a tech support drone and entry-level code monkey, my job was to tell people why their very simple code isn’t working. Most commonly it was because they were declaring locally a variable they should have declared globally, which one of our products required.
There was, however, one for whom the term “code monkey” was much more literal than I cared to know. I had spent a good hour with this guy whose code was just spewing out utterly the wrong material and I’d gone over each procedure line by line and couldn’t see what the problem could have been in this otherwise small and simple bit of code. Nothing stood out. So I told him to start at the beginning – right at the beginning, starting with his variable declarations. He started to list them off.
Him: “numPeople is an integer with a starting value of zero.”
Me: “Okay.”
Him: “strNames is a string array with no initial values.”
Me: “Okay.”
Him: “FALSE is a constant integer with a value of 1.”
Me: “Uh … what?”
Him: “FALSE is a const—”
Me: “Wait. You redefined FALSE?”
Him: “Is that bad?”
:smack: :smack: :smack:
Okay, so probably only programmers will get that, but it was still award-winning stupidity.
Hehe. I’ve dealt with code like that; variables named such things as ‘integer’, ‘time’, ‘date’ and ‘value’ - and the question “Why won’t it compile?”
They probably had read some Chick tracts that said that Allah was originally just a “moon god” – the one deity among many that would pull the Arabian people together. (For all I know there may be some truth too that. Note the ‘may’ – Don’t jump all over on me if it happens to be totally silly.)
Hindus… Muslims… whatever.
Can’t tell one “pagan” religion 
from another without a scorecard!
True Blue Jack
A guy with a tirade about guys who have long hair looking like “faggots.” Made even more so cause this guy wore the worst looking rug you have ever seen in your life.
Wasn’t there some comedian’s routine that included a joke about this - open 24 hours - you have to figure out which 24 hours?
It’s from Steven Wright. Scroll about a third of the way down the page (and the page is pretty long) for the quote you have in mind.
A few months ago I went in to see my chiropractor and we were chatting about his up coming AT.
He’s in the National Guard with my husband but different units. Dr. Hottie is with the engineers.
The young lady answering his phones had to be in high school, asked what he did in the Army. He told her he was an engineer and I piped up with “yeah he gets the neat job of driving the trains and if he breaks one my husband has to fix it”
She thought that was the coolest thing.
I got “the Look” from Dr. Hottie and was told to stop messing with the help.
And Nava I get the “you can’t be a chick” thing all the time in everquest. No female plays those games let alone knows enough to tank a mob that well! /gasp
Then I rifle through my bags and ask them how many guys carry around one whole bag with a change of clothes? I have armor for fighting, everyday wear and when I just want to be a pretty little Dark Elf.
Then I must have a third eye or a hump! I direct them to my myspace. Or my warrior husband assures them that he has seen all the neccesary bits and pieces and confirms I am truly female.