Update
1 year ago
Monday, June 11, 2012
Yet More Starshipping
Bit of a space plague, apologies to George O. Smith. I think I had it this past weekend.
Just In Time For Stonewall Day*
...Outrage at a small-town church! Somebody posted a video on YouTube, showing a very young boy singing in the church about how "..ain't no homo gonna get into heaven..." to applause from parishioners and next thing y'know, Sunday dawns all crawling with protesters. And some counterprotesting and counter-counter protesting (one guy who wants both sides to go away!).
In fact, the only people who were missing were the congregation. And the preacher. They went elsewhere. Which is one way to deal with an irreconcilable difference.
All this over a five-year-old's opinion of who's got a ticket to an unprovable afterlife? Whew! I guess that means both religious conservatives and LGBT people have managed to fix all the serious issues!
...Um, right?
Oh.
Motes, logs, eyes, all that sort of thing. Imagine if they'd'a all put the effort into feeding the hungry instead of worrying what'll happen to 'em after they're dead!
(Homework assignment: Pohl and Kornbluth's "The World Of Myrion Flowers." Off-topic? Are you sure?)
_______________________________
* I will note that PR flacks have managed to push an actual, you know, riot, into the background and renamed it Pride Day. Retconning: every group does it.
In fact, the only people who were missing were the congregation. And the preacher. They went elsewhere. Which is one way to deal with an irreconcilable difference.
All this over a five-year-old's opinion of who's got a ticket to an unprovable afterlife? Whew! I guess that means both religious conservatives and LGBT people have managed to fix all the serious issues!
...Um, right?
Oh.
Motes, logs, eyes, all that sort of thing. Imagine if they'd'a all put the effort into feeding the hungry instead of worrying what'll happen to 'em after they're dead!
(Homework assignment: Pohl and Kornbluth's "The World Of Myrion Flowers." Off-topic? Are you sure?)
_______________________________
* I will note that PR flacks have managed to push an actual, you know, riot, into the background and renamed it Pride Day. Retconning: every group does it.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Free To...
Free to whatever.
Seems there has been some drama and back-and-forth about a female gun-blogger getting herself injured doing hand-to-hand training. Folks are saying it's a good idea, or a bad idea or--
Hey, you know what it is? It's somebody else's idea. It neither picks my pocket nor does it break my leg. I'm not even gonna say, "be careful out there." Make up your own mind about how careful you want to be. The only way most people learn is when reality walks up and whacks 'em; and, knowingly or not, we pick our own lessons. Some leave scars.
Edited to add -- Unk and I know the difference between "I wouldn't do that" and "You shouldn't do that" but this world has way too many folks who don't.
(Me, I might want not-hitting-people lessons. I have a temper and when I lose it, I'm a damn' savage. I'd blame bad examples but I think that's a cheap cop-out. Get me mad and I will step right into your personal space and it goes downhill from there. Since generally in the past I would get my rear kicked even in a hair-pulling match, I try to avoid losing my temper; and I avoid situations where I might. You know what I have learned about self-defense? How to work to dodge the necessity for it and how to recognize when I might have to. The next time someone points a firearm at me and asks for my purse, at least I'll have ended up there aware of the risk I was running. But I would prefer not to. I'm neither a wimp nor a Xena wannabe and I do not want to be a hybrid pirate/ninja, I just want to walk through this life in minimal blood and drama, ideally none at all: no highs, no lows, no standing up in court -- but I'm not takin' an early exit at the hands of a thug or lunatic. YMMV.)
Seems there has been some drama and back-and-forth about a female gun-blogger getting herself injured doing hand-to-hand training. Folks are saying it's a good idea, or a bad idea or--
Hey, you know what it is? It's somebody else's idea. It neither picks my pocket nor does it break my leg. I'm not even gonna say, "be careful out there." Make up your own mind about how careful you want to be. The only way most people learn is when reality walks up and whacks 'em; and, knowingly or not, we pick our own lessons. Some leave scars.
Edited to add -- Unk and I know the difference between "I wouldn't do that" and "You shouldn't do that" but this world has way too many folks who don't.
(Me, I might want not-hitting-people lessons. I have a temper and when I lose it, I'm a damn' savage. I'd blame bad examples but I think that's a cheap cop-out. Get me mad and I will step right into your personal space and it goes downhill from there. Since generally in the past I would get my rear kicked even in a hair-pulling match, I try to avoid losing my temper; and I avoid situations where I might. You know what I have learned about self-defense? How to work to dodge the necessity for it and how to recognize when I might have to. The next time someone points a firearm at me and asks for my purse, at least I'll have ended up there aware of the risk I was running. But I would prefer not to. I'm neither a wimp nor a Xena wannabe and I do not want to be a hybrid pirate/ninja, I just want to walk through this life in minimal blood and drama, ideally none at all: no highs, no lows, no standing up in court -- but I'm not takin' an early exit at the hands of a thug or lunatic. YMMV.)
Webbed
The Nations You Never Heard Of! (I had, some)
There was a giant statue of The Mighty Og? --Lost in a windstorm, Sick Transit Glorioski Monday ("The bus is in the shop but the work week is starting with great weather").
Who thought this was a good name? No. Just no.
Robert Green Ingersoll, snarking with class: "Nations with a good soil can get along with an exceedingly poor religion...." ("...Reply To His Critics In The N. Y. 'Evening Telegram'," pg. 9, 1892)
Also, one man's plans for the prevention of uninvited aeronauts. Huzzah, says I, huzzah!
There was a giant statue of The Mighty Og? --Lost in a windstorm, Sick Transit Glorioski Monday ("The bus is in the shop but the work week is starting with great weather").
Who thought this was a good name? No. Just no.
Robert Green Ingersoll, snarking with class: "Nations with a good soil can get along with an exceedingly poor religion...." ("...Reply To His Critics In The N. Y. 'Evening Telegram'," pg. 9, 1892)
Also, one man's plans for the prevention of uninvited aeronauts. Huzzah, says I, huzzah!
Road Trips I Should Take
Really ought to go see General Lew Wallace's Study in Crawfordsville. Fascinating building, filled with books and bookshelves, a lovely survival of a vanished time.
Lew Wallace? He wrote Ben-Hur -- the inspiration for which was a conversation with outspoken agnostic Robert Green Ingersoll.*
He did not, however, write it in that study; it came long after the book, which probably helped fund its construction.
FWIW, Ben-Hur was a best-seller and helped reverse a trend toward more conventional novels of everyday life in favor of historical/adventure fiction: we may have Lew Wallace to thank for Tarzan and John Carter of Mars, at least in part.
________________________________
* The best-selling book is considered, "the most influential Christian book of the nineteenth century." Perhaps to the surprise of Colonel Ingersoll. Which only goes to show that while good oratory may be moving, it doesn't necessarily move the audience in the direction the orator intends.
Lew Wallace? He wrote Ben-Hur -- the inspiration for which was a conversation with outspoken agnostic Robert Green Ingersoll.*
He did not, however, write it in that study; it came long after the book, which probably helped fund its construction.
FWIW, Ben-Hur was a best-seller and helped reverse a trend toward more conventional novels of everyday life in favor of historical/adventure fiction: we may have Lew Wallace to thank for Tarzan and John Carter of Mars, at least in part.
________________________________
* The best-selling book is considered, "the most influential Christian book of the nineteenth century." Perhaps to the surprise of Colonel Ingersoll. Which only goes to show that while good oratory may be moving, it doesn't necessarily move the audience in the direction the orator intends.
Saturday, June 09, 2012
Stupid Party: Also Tone-Deaf
Really, Republicans? Really?
Really: "U.S. Sen. Richard Lugar may have lost his primary last month, but two of his biggest supporters were chosen Friday to replace a pair of his opponent's backers on the Republican National Committee."
Headdesk. Or, why I can't favor the GOP over the LP.
Really: "U.S. Sen. Richard Lugar may have lost his primary last month, but two of his biggest supporters were chosen Friday to replace a pair of his opponent's backers on the Republican National Committee."
Headdesk. Or, why I can't favor the GOP over the LP.
Friday, June 08, 2012
Something New At I Work On A Starship
A little vignette, with photo illustrations: a visit to one of Lupine's main radar units. Which was not working. Because mo-rons can't find light switches and go flipping breakers at random instead. Yeah, that's smart.
Another "Aargh" Morning
Toast, juice and coffee for breakfast and shaddup, a feed like that is considered an indulgent luxury of the idle rich in some parts of the world.
...Up at my Mom's until nearly midnight, trying to sort out computer problems. Left with Malwarebytes chewing its way through the entire system, after a semi-successful Restore to the oldest restore point. I don't know yet if it's fixable without a total wipe and start over or not -- she's picked up something, won't leave the machine off (and doesn't know how to take if offline, downside of wi-fi) and in looking for help, somehow managed to fall into the clutches of a low-rated "service" one step above the malware-installers that advertise on TV and gave 'em online access to her computer before asking a family member if this was a good idea. --Btw, the answer to that would be "no."
(Lovely long three-party conversation with Mom and $Generic Indian Tech-ish Guy. After much faffing about and obfuscation, it came down to: "Miss it is a matter of trust. We support Microsoft. We are BBB-rated. You can Google us." "I did. You're telemarketers. BBB shows plenty of complaints. Online reviews don't say good things." "No, no, there are thousands of errors on this computer. I have found them. All businesses have some complaints. YOU HAVE TO TRUST ME!" "I don't. Mom, do NOT give these guys your credit card number. Raj? You're done here." "But it will only be $299.99 for six month warranty!" "Goodbye, Raj.")
Mom grew up in a somewhat more honest age, where the guy that fixed your furnace might pad the bill a little, but he didn't plant smokebombs in the cold-air return or cameras in the registers. It ain't that way any more.
...Up at my Mom's until nearly midnight, trying to sort out computer problems. Left with Malwarebytes chewing its way through the entire system, after a semi-successful Restore to the oldest restore point. I don't know yet if it's fixable without a total wipe and start over or not -- she's picked up something, won't leave the machine off (and doesn't know how to take if offline, downside of wi-fi) and in looking for help, somehow managed to fall into the clutches of a low-rated "service" one step above the malware-installers that advertise on TV and gave 'em online access to her computer before asking a family member if this was a good idea. --Btw, the answer to that would be "no."
(Lovely long three-party conversation with Mom and $Generic Indian Tech-ish Guy. After much faffing about and obfuscation, it came down to: "Miss it is a matter of trust. We support Microsoft. We are BBB-rated. You can Google us." "I did. You're telemarketers. BBB shows plenty of complaints. Online reviews don't say good things." "No, no, there are thousands of errors on this computer. I have found them. All businesses have some complaints. YOU HAVE TO TRUST ME!" "I don't. Mom, do NOT give these guys your credit card number. Raj? You're done here." "But it will only be $299.99 for six month warranty!" "Goodbye, Raj.")
Mom grew up in a somewhat more honest age, where the guy that fixed your furnace might pad the bill a little, but he didn't plant smokebombs in the cold-air return or cameras in the registers. It ain't that way any more.
Thursday, June 07, 2012
The Day After D-Day
Many of the gun-blogs marked 6 June -- and it's a day to never forget. And yet-- War is a terrible business; its first and most evident product is dead and injured people, mostly -- but by no means exclusively -- soldiers.
That's not to say there's nothing worse; there are many things worse. The good guys go to war to stop them and pay a steep price in the doing.
Ernie Pyle stepped ashore in Normandy the day after D-Day; stepped ashore, saw the aftermath and later, let you look through his eyes.
(Article found both at Indiana University's J-school and on Free Republic, btw. There's a lesson there.)
That's not to say there's nothing worse; there are many things worse. The good guys go to war to stop them and pay a steep price in the doing.
Ernie Pyle stepped ashore in Normandy the day after D-Day; stepped ashore, saw the aftermath and later, let you look through his eyes.
(Article found both at Indiana University's J-school and on Free Republic, btw. There's a lesson there.)
Wednesday, June 06, 2012
Fireflies
They're here!
It was balmy-cool as twilight came to a close. I took my bicycle out for a quick mile (just under -- the Monon trail is closed after dark, patrolled at the "downtown Broad Ripple" end by officers with no sense of humor about exposing oneself to a known trouble-spot, so I stayed on the roads). About once per block, a firefly would respond to my strobing bike headlight with a series of gentle, slow, look-at-me flashes, hovering hopefully just off the street.
Yeah, yeah, they're just bugs -- but they're kinda magical, too. Little floating, self-directed flashes of light? It's a wonder!
It was balmy-cool as twilight came to a close. I took my bicycle out for a quick mile (just under -- the Monon trail is closed after dark, patrolled at the "downtown Broad Ripple" end by officers with no sense of humor about exposing oneself to a known trouble-spot, so I stayed on the roads). About once per block, a firefly would respond to my strobing bike headlight with a series of gentle, slow, look-at-me flashes, hovering hopefully just off the street.
Yeah, yeah, they're just bugs -- but they're kinda magical, too. Little floating, self-directed flashes of light? It's a wonder!
Overheard At The Bilderberg Group?
"Sometimes, I feel like a motherless child...other times, I think just a sandwich or a salad would be plenty."
Ew.
Ipse dixit department: "When people say this is a secret government of the world I say that if we were a secret government of the world we should be bloody ashamed of ourselves." --Denis Healey, founding member/former Steering Committee member. Dammit, Denis, if not mine, at least where's your flying car? Helicopters don't count.
Ew.
Ipse dixit department: "When people say this is a secret government of the world I say that if we were a secret government of the world we should be bloody ashamed of ourselves." --Denis Healey, founding member/former Steering Committee member. Dammit, Denis, if not mine, at least where's your flying car? Helicopters don't count.
On Gov. Walker, Elections, Monarchs And Common Sense
When I started paying attention to the polling numbers last week, it was obvious to me that no matter how things turned out, there were going to be a lot of cheesed-off Wisconsonians after the votes were counted; a wide variety of sources had the race neck and neck in the home stretch.
At this point, the loser's pet media is too busy spinning to cough up the numbers, so best I can do is cite exit polls, which showed a five percent difference between challenger and incumbent.
With such a close vote, it is important to not read the results too deeply. Tom Barret had already lost once to Scott Walker and I never did see any evidence it was going to be different this time. The sobbing protester on CNN who proclaimed, "Democracy died tonight," need look no further than the mirror: when folks don't trust the results of elections, the game's just about up; I sure hope that's not a widespread sentiment. And the Dems noting, "We sent him a strong message--" What, stronger than packing the state capitol with protesters? Okay, then, as long as you own up that the message is, your side can't quite win on the issue of public-employee unions in the state where they were born.
On the other side of the Great Water, the Brits were cheering on the Queen's Diamond Jubilee. (A surprise to me, I thought you had to be on the throne 75 years to get one of those. Wrong-o: they changed the rules for Queen Victoria. I've probably missed this year's Swan Upping, too. -- Nope, six weeks to go.)
I had a dream the other night that Billie Thomas had been made King of (some part of) the U.S., ruling from Buckwheat Palace, and everything was o-tay -- we'd be on to HRH William II now, since Mr. Thomas passed away in 1980, the same year he'd received a standing ovation from fans when the Our Gang cast reunited at the Sons of the Desert convention. King Buckwheat, you muse? --I think we could do far worse; once the Little Rascals films had run their course, he finished school, did a stint in the Army and wound up back in Hollywood: "Even the big stars had to chase around and audition; it seemed like a rat race to me, with no security." He took a lab tech job at Technicolor instead and worked there until retirement.
If you're not gonna stand by elections even when the results don't go your way, even knowing there's a do-over every two, four or six years, and you're unwilling to give up this crazy idea of "Government" where we sort-of pick some bunch of guys in suits to go idle away in a fancy building, refraining from smoking and making up new rules (more every day!), then you'd better hope you're lucky enough get King Buckwheat and not Pol Pot or Idi Amin. Me, I'd be happy just scaling back the power of Governors and Legislators, Presidents and Senators to go messing about with your life -- and mine. But I guess it's too easy to fume about how the other guys stole the election and will probably roll out the tanks next Tuesday. Oh the predictable horror. Tuesday comes, tankless, and by then it's a whole new news cycle: ooh! Transit of Venus!* Smog alert! Elected Officials Behaving Badly! Shiny!
_________________________________________
* I am so glad that turned out to not be a euphemism.
At this point, the loser's pet media is too busy spinning to cough up the numbers, so best I can do is cite exit polls, which showed a five percent difference between challenger and incumbent.
With such a close vote, it is important to not read the results too deeply. Tom Barret had already lost once to Scott Walker and I never did see any evidence it was going to be different this time. The sobbing protester on CNN who proclaimed, "Democracy died tonight," need look no further than the mirror: when folks don't trust the results of elections, the game's just about up; I sure hope that's not a widespread sentiment. And the Dems noting, "We sent him a strong message--" What, stronger than packing the state capitol with protesters? Okay, then, as long as you own up that the message is, your side can't quite win on the issue of public-employee unions in the state where they were born.
On the other side of the Great Water, the Brits were cheering on the Queen's Diamond Jubilee. (A surprise to me, I thought you had to be on the throne 75 years to get one of those. Wrong-o: they changed the rules for Queen Victoria. I've probably missed this year's Swan Upping, too. -- Nope, six weeks to go.)
I had a dream the other night that Billie Thomas had been made King of (some part of) the U.S., ruling from Buckwheat Palace, and everything was o-tay -- we'd be on to HRH William II now, since Mr. Thomas passed away in 1980, the same year he'd received a standing ovation from fans when the Our Gang cast reunited at the Sons of the Desert convention. King Buckwheat, you muse? --I think we could do far worse; once the Little Rascals films had run their course, he finished school, did a stint in the Army and wound up back in Hollywood: "Even the big stars had to chase around and audition; it seemed like a rat race to me, with no security." He took a lab tech job at Technicolor instead and worked there until retirement.
If you're not gonna stand by elections even when the results don't go your way, even knowing there's a do-over every two, four or six years, and you're unwilling to give up this crazy idea of "Government" where we sort-of pick some bunch of guys in suits to go idle away in a fancy building, refraining from smoking and making up new rules (more every day!), then you'd better hope you're lucky enough get King Buckwheat and not Pol Pot or Idi Amin. Me, I'd be happy just scaling back the power of Governors and Legislators, Presidents and Senators to go messing about with your life -- and mine. But I guess it's too easy to fume about how the other guys stole the election and will probably roll out the tanks next Tuesday. Oh the predictable horror. Tuesday comes, tankless, and by then it's a whole new news cycle: ooh! Transit of Venus!* Smog alert! Elected Officials Behaving Badly! Shiny!
_________________________________________
* I am so glad that turned out to not be a euphemism.
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