One year ago today: September 16, 2014, the unspoken marital interval . . .
Five years ago today: September 16, 2010, electric bike test drive.
Six years ago today: September 16, 2009, beware of “technicians”.
MORNING
These are the reputedly unbreakable carbon fiber spokes. I would not go that far, experience says anything with a fiber can be creased. If I can crease it, I can break it. Unlike a regular bicycle arrangement, these spokes pull the tire rim in rather that support it out. Agt. M’s hand is blocking the special hub which might as well just yell out “me, me, steal me”. My instant guess is the weak spot is where the fiber joins into this hub. Either way, you are looking at a $400 bicycle wheel.
Instead, they keep issuing software that gobbles up ever more processor overhead. Prime example is trying to move files in anything after Win 7. It uses so much memory to display the useless transfer graphic that it takes twice as long as Win 98 to do the actual transfer. Then again, what would the average Windows user these days need to move any files for, anyway? I view the average hipster as a shallow, jobless, porno addict whose snot-ring date works for a telemarket outfit. No doubt he also composes long, slow, meaningful ballads on the guitar because, “You never know.”
The cooler spell this morning was the opportunity to get at the circumference of my estate with the winter herbicide. The Ortho brand that says “up to one year”, except they have their years and months mixed up. There is nothing on the shelves at Home Depot that actually does the job.
NOON
I may have an offer on the circuit design of y’day. But not for me to build it, just for them to buy the idea for a promotion on their site. Let’s see what kind of money they are talking and do nothing until then. This potential income, whatever it may be, got me looking at real estate again. Socially, I need to move at least three hours away from the seething, festering cesspit that the illegals have turned Miami into. I’ve half a mind to move to Lakeland for a month just to get a feel for the territory.
Meanwhile, I have a talk show on the blower about which was better, the [American] Sherman or the [Soviet] T-34. Both were produced in numbers that overwhelmed Germany’s superior designs. But inferior tanks had won over larger, better opponents before. The Allies had more and better tanks when the Germans hit them in France and a year later in the Soviet Union. Some say we’ll never know. That isn’t so, the Sherman and T-34 met in Korea.
Or did they? By then, it was the Super Sherman with 90mm gun and 76mm armor. And the T-34/85, a similarly upgraded tackle. Once again, the side with air superiority prevailed, but it was also clear the Koreans did not know how to use their weapons. Their fighting spirit was legendary, as was also the case in several communist countries when the soldier’s families were held hostage. There is talk that such viewpoints are all stereotypes, but you know how I maintain that every stereotype has an observable basis in social behavior.
For that matter, history reveals that even genocide never happens in isolation. It is more likely a quick and dirty retaliation for extended wrongdoing on the part of the victim. And you don’t have to listen to American media long before you realize the lower orders are significantly better at playing the victim than you are. They’ll aggravate you a little every day for years until you explode, then cry like a baby. And you wonder why I quit the phone company.
NIGHT
What’s this, a house for sale in Brooksville? It is the geographic center of Florida known best for lynchings and segregated housing. It is redneck enough to keep the peace, and it is clear little has really changed except the faces they make for the cameras. Safety-wise, the entire area is nice and green on the Trulia map. You pretty much got to drive to Homosassa (25 miles north) before you’ll even hear a decent off-color joke.
The only famous person from the area was a football player who made it almost to 28 before wrapping his Corvette around a telephone pole. The town was last in the news five years ago when the locals soundly rejected a bid to rename the town. It seems the original Brooks nearly beat an abolitionist to death with his walking stick back in 1856. Pearl-handled, no doubt. Face it, some people need a good drubbing before they realize they are out of line.
More historical newsreels tell me that before they went to war, an awful lot of Canadians were personally familiar with something I’ve never seen. Shooting fish in a barrel. The way they use that phrase to describe most battles leads me to believe it was a national sport. Maybe in the east, where Steve Martin did some of his early work. Myself, I think anyone who has ever fired a gun underwater and lived to tell would never do so again.
The Canadians also are great observers of ducks that are sitting and sounds made by some animal or creature called a “banshee”, mostly at night or in foggy weather, or, before a major battle, on the other side of the river.
Ladies, you would have been proud of me this afternoon. I spent an hour scrubbing my living room floor to spotless perfection. Down on hands and knees, soap and water. Actually, I had to. Because I kicked over a can of pink paint.
And, did you ever just finish cleaning up and then kick the same can of paint over again? I never have, I was just wondering if you ever did. What? You thought I meant I did it? It's that imagination again.
ADDENDUM
Watching the daily feeds, that moron David Pakman showed up again, desperately trying to put a negative spin on anything Trump. Today, he was on about how one could not be sure if Trump was entertaining or stating a position. Well, gee DP, I don’t personally think your opinion or confusion on the matter is ever going to make any difference. Oh, and I see your own staff is starting to turn on you wyou ask your rehearsed questions. You seem too cement-headed to see it.
As for your constant digs at “Trump-lovers”, I think it is you that has to come to some kind of realization of facts. The wall is no joke and by 2017 jerk-offs like you will be eating your words. As for your contention that you don’t want an insult artist as President, why don’t you shut up, find something you can support instead of constantly denigrate, then trot down to the voting booth next year and see what difference establishment clones like yourself really make.
If I have not repeatedly warned the world about the low grade of female actresses hired by the Star Trek series, maybe read this link. I know ‘em when I see ‘em and never wonder why older men like younger women.
Last Laugh
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