I thought you might find this quote from Linus Torvalds more convincing than the way I said it 25 years ago. “ C++ is a horrible language. It's made more horrible by the fact that a lot of substandard programmers use it, to the point where it's much much easier to generate total and utter crap with it.” He doesn’t go far enough.The downfall of many web pages is predetermined by their lack of strict categorization rules. For example, have you ever tried to find every instance of something for sale on eBay? Now, Instructables, a site I used to really enjoy, has allowed thousands of videos and posts that don’t have instructions. What good is that? All those “Look at wonderful me” people belong on youTube.
Here’s one for you. The first Venus probe built in the USA required a lens made of pure diamond. Venus’ 900 degree atmosphere is laced with sulfuric acid. US customs slapped a $12,000 import duty on the diamond. Later, when the spaceship landed, they refunded the duty, figuring the diamond was no longer available for resale in this country. It’s shit like this, DC.
Want some bad news? The guy that got the job I was about to take when felled by my heart attack is now making $363,000 per year. Sorry, no details, but that makes him a one-percenter. Now finished his apprenticeship, he has taken over the clientele from the retiring broker who originally wanted to mentor me. That job is the reason I had so much money socked away when things went wrong—I was prepared to last three years with low income per the instructions of the broker who was totally impressed by my ability to program TVM. I was to have made the leap in November of 2005. What I could do with $30,000 a month!
Something else that doesn’t compute is my income should technically put me below poverty level, but nothing of the kind is going on around here. Particularly if you associate poverty with not owning a vehicle, bad food, no Internet access, and the attendant evils of poor living. That others are struggling on five and ten times my income is a tough argument that is it not ones environment, but one’s lifestyle, that determines happiness and real prosperity.
How’s it going with my dating club? Not so great in the big picture. This “professional” club is full of mediocrity and of course, the women are as clueless about what a good man is as they are in every other situation. The men? Except for the odd fanatic who shows a flash of intelligence on some narrow subject, like politics, the usual gang of idiots. That’s unfair, there are several smart ones—but they’re neither the leaders nor establishment of that club.
Although there are options for women to declare they are divorced, widowed, have children, etc, they claim to be “single”. Watch out guys, if you settle for one with kids, you will never know what it is like to be number one, even for a moment. Also, these hand-held self-portraits are bad publicity. Either they can’t figure out the self-timer, or they don’t have a friend to take the picture for them. The logic is comical, “Oh, need picture for dating club. Run in bathroom. Use flash in mirror. Marry doctor.”
Another too funny quirk is the over-35-age women who give themselves handles like “ur1truluv” and “sexycherub”. Um, gals, that may be how you see yourself, but isn’t it time to get concerned with how the world sees you? You might have better luck with “registerednurse” or “mathteacher”, though I would shy away from “singlemother” and “welfarecase”. And when you say your interests are baseball, hockey, and football, just you try to figure out why you are 44 and all alone.
[Author’s note: the entry about the boat tour isn’t clear. I made unofficial reservations for two on the condition I give a firm reply by 3:00 PM this afternoon. It seems the boat captain needs to follow the tide schedule. In the end, I was dateless, though they say if I drop by tomorrow I can go on one of the rides for free. Whoopie.]
I read the Toys R Us flyer. I see except for some themed (Star Wars) Lego sets, there is not one construction or fabrication toy in stock. The only robot is a dancing monkey. The only telescope has plastic lenses. Anything remote control is a goof toy, you know, big foot truck or race car. No thinking toys, don’t even give him the option. Give him a plastic T-Rex with a saddle so he can pretend being a brute. He’s only a kid once, so feed him a steady diet of escapism. Trust your kid’s mind to Hasbro and Mattel.
