Shark Week Jumps The Shark: An Open Letter To Discovery Communications. Dear Discovery Communications,I have to say, I had high hopes for this year’s Shark Week. But we’re only one special in and already, shark week has seriously jumped the shark. I get why you had a special about C.

Low-budget scifi movies may have had their heyday during Roger Corman’s rise to B-movie greatness in the 1950s, but they’re still going strong today—proving.

What shark inspires more fear and fascination than Megalodon, the Chondrichthyean monster that once dominated our planet’s oceans? The shark’s name, which translates to “giant tooth”, says it all. Their hand- sized dental records are some of the only fossilized evidence we have of these gigantic predators, which lived from ~5. Based on their size, scientists have estimated these sharks grew to upwards of 6.

This year’s Shark Week kick- off special, Megalodon: The Monster Shark That Lives, claimed to provide evidence that these massive beasts are still out there, using scattered anecdotes and scientific testimony to support the assertion. There’s only one problem: the entire “documentary” wasn’t real. No whale with a giant bite taken out of it has ever washed up here in Hawaii. No fishing vessel went mysteriously missing off of South Africa in April. No one has ever found unfossilized Megalodon teeth. Collin Drake? Doesn’t exist.

I had high hopes this year, but we're only one special in and shark week has already seriously jumped the shark with Megalodon: The Monster Shark That Lives. On Saturday at the Aspen Security Forum, Rogers barely even put up the effort to be polite about the idea, Reuters reported. I’m not a policy guy here,” Rogers. D23 is upon us this weekend, and with it, a new behind-the-scenes glimpse at the next chapter in the Star Wars saga. But although the movie didn’t offer us a full. Buick, at least in the U.S., is a brand that has traditionally skewed a bit older. Watch Miami Vice Download Full. I’m not sure there’s a recent Buick that makes that vague bit of demographic.

The evidence was faked, the stories fabricated, and the scientists portrayed on it were actors. The idea that Megalodon could still be roaming the ocean is a complete and total myth. Sobering statistics.

Here’s what I don’t get, Discovery: Megalodons were real, incredible, fascinating sharks. There’s a ton of actual science about them that is well worth a two hour special. We’ve discovered their nursery grounds off the coast of Panama, for example. Their bite is thought to be the strongest of all time—strong enough to smash an automobile—beating out even the most monstrous dinosaurs. The real science of these animals should have been more than enough to inspire Discovery Channel viewers. But it’s as if you don’t care anymore about presenting the truth or reality.

You chose, instead, to mislead your viewers with 1. And the sad part is, you are so well trusted by your audience that you actually convinced them: according to your poll, upwards of 7. Megalodon isn’t extinct. Watch Perfume: The Story Of A Murderer Online Free HD. Megalodon: The Monster Shark That Lives was not just a disservice to your genuinely curious audience. It was a lie. You used your reputation to deceive your viewers, and you didn’t even apologize for it.

At least the faux Mermaids documentaries on Animal Planet flashed a brief disclaimer explaining that they were false. Megalodon: The Monster Shark That Lives had no such warning. Instead, you did the exact opposite. All you put up was this: None of the institutions or agencies that appear in the film are affiliated with it in any way, nor have approved its contents. Though certain events and characters in this film have been dramatized, sightings of “Submarine” continue to this day.

Megalodon was a real shark. Legends of giant sharks persist all over the world.

There is still a debate about what they may be. While there may be a debate about what “sightings” may be, there is one thing that scientists are sure of: Megalodon is extinct.

Part of me is furious with you, Discovery, for doing this. But mostly, I’m just deeply saddened. It’s inexplicably depressing that you’ve gone from “the world’s #1 nonfiction media company” to peddling lies and faking stories for ratings.

You’ve compromised your integrity so completely with this special, and that breaks my heart. I loved you, Discovery, ever since I was a child. I grew up watching you. It was partly because of you that I became transfixed by the natural world and pursued a career in science.

I once dreamed of having my own Discovery Channel special, following in the footsteps of people like Jeff Corwin. Not anymore. This is inexcusable. You have an obligation to your viewers to hold to your non- fiction claims. You used to expose the beautiful, magical, wonderful sides of the world around us. Now, you just make shit up for profit. It’s depressing. It’s disgusting.

It’s wrong. I won’t be watching the rest of Shark Week. I simply can’t. The last time you disappointed me, I wrote you a letter, and I told you that there was little chance that I could forgive you. I said it felt like you were slipping further and further every day. Sadly, my worst fears have become real.

You’re just not the channel I grew up with. You’ve changed. I sincerely hope that you take a little time and reflect on what you’ve become.

Is this really what you want? To abuse the trust of your viewers that you have spent decades building? You say that your mission is “to satisfy curiosity and make a difference in people’s lives by providing the highest quality content, services and products that entertain, engage and enlighten.” If fraud is the highest quality content you can come up with, then I’m not angry with you—I feel sorry for you. If that is really your goal, you’ve failed, and you’ve failed miserably. Sincerely,Christie Wilcox. Update: You don’t have to listen to me, Discovery. Read your Facebook wall.

This is just a small snippet of the comments your own viewers are posting.

Embrace Nothingness With A Buick Lucerne. Buick, at least in the U. S., is a brand that has traditionally skewed a bit older. I’m not sure there’s a recent Buick that makes that vague bit of demographic data come to life more than the 2. Buick Lucerne, a car that is essentially the very concept of responsible, suburban aging turned into metal. It’s namesake is a Swiss town that nobody really gives a shit about, but is undoubtedly clean and well- run. That fits the Lucerne very well.

The car was decent enough technically, with a choice of a decently powered V6 (at first a smaller 1. Northstar V8, making up to 2. That’s fine. All the specs were exactly what you’d expect of the era: FWD, four- speed auto, full- size, four- door sedan, in the middle of the full- size category, for size and fullness, generally streamlined shape that was decided by the same math and aero research as just about anything else, no risks taken whatsoever.

The build quality was decent, the options and amenities put it in a near- luxury class—hell, this car was Buick’s flagship model from 2. That has to mean something, right?

You’d think so, wouldn’t you? The truth is, by putting the Lucerne at the top of their range, what Buick managed to create was something like that unfinished pyramid on the back of the dollar bill—a structure with no top. Sure, the unfinished pyramid gets that mystical, all- seeing eye filling the gap, but the Lucerne just topped the Buick range by being one of the most anonymous, character- free cars ever to blandly plow America’s roads. The Lucerne, again, wasn’t a piece of shit; it was a quality product that no human bearing a detectable pulse could possibly give a shit about. It was like getting an absolute finest, prize- winning free range, artisinally- raised superchicken, and then cooking it by running it through an atomic- powered deflavorizer for a week.

Buick tried, half- assedly, to give the Lucerne a distinct look with a chromier and chromier grilles and Buick’s trademark speed hole thingies, but these bits of detail and brightwork just served to emphasize how mind- scorchingly boring the rest of the car was. Even the commercials—at least the ones without Tiger Woods pretending to give a shit—could really only tout the vague idea of ‘quality,’ because what else was there to point to? Other than the speed holes? Have you ever heard the words “I really want a Buick Lucerne?” Until now, no, I’m about certain you haven’t. In fact, my computer’s grammar checker algorithms just freaked out because it was unable to process the use of the verb “want” with the proper direct object “Buick Lucerne.” It’s simply never been written before. The Lucerne is like some kind of healthy millet porridge that a doctor may suggest to someone in their late ‘7.

It’s certainly not going to hurt, and it’s probably even pretty good for you, but it’s so joyless and sexless and free of novelty or interest and aggressively benign that eating food you actually want becomes a fair trade for a few extra years of geriatric life. That’s the Lucerne. Nobody ever wanted one. Nobody cares about it.

Someday, they will all be gone, and we will have forgotten to even notice. Man, what a boring- ass car.