Word: excessed
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...What Would Wolves Do” music video. In Quincy’s vision of what wolves would do, an animated wolf/bear duo of intergalactic adventurers explore a planet inhabited by pouty-mouthed, bikini-clad creaturelings who love a good party. After a night of orgiastic cartoon excess, the plot takes a sharp turn into “Pit and the Pendulum” doom and gloom, as wolf and bear narrowly escape their female captors-turned-ritualistically-sacrificing-robots. Not quite as idiosyncratic as Mr. Hankey the Christmas Poo, but bizarre enough, considering that Quincy’s working...
Despite being the world’s largest consumers of rice, China has remained unusually quiet. Chinese Premier Wen Jia-Bao denied that rice shortages or price hikes will be a problem for Chinese consumers and a few weeks ago, revealed secret state reserves of rice in excess of 150 million tons to prove his point...
...paper for a green group arguing for the creation of a cap-and-trade system for acid rain, one that would put a government-mandated limit on the level of pollutants power plants and factories could emit, but allow companies that came in under the limit to trade their excess capacity to companies that exceeded their caps. The market drives companies to be ever more efficient in cutting pollution, because pollution becomes a recognizable cost. "You commoditize the air," says Sandor. "Once you place a price, you move industry and innovation...
...acid rain. Emissions trading worked because by pricing the air, it helps drive innovation towards pollution control and efficiency, funded in part by the value of the emissions trading market. (Companies that spent to lower their emissions beneath the cap could recoup that investment by selling their excess emissions credits.) Just as importantly, it did so on the cheap, at a cost considerably beneath early estimates...
...embarrassment of riches is a cornerstone of Harvard culture; we don’t wear insignia clothing, we expertly understate our own talents and accomplishments, sometimes to excess, and we’re only ever keen to admit that we go to Harvard—“drop the H-bomb,” that is—when we’re trying to pick someone up at a bar. (It works. Sometimes.) Of course, we’re deeply (but secretly) pleased every time the Harvard admissions rate loses a point or two—we?...