The US reels show a few P-51s pouncing on unsuspecting jets, but mostly you see swarms of Mustangs reduced to chasing a 262 in relays until it runs out of fuel. The American propellor planes are dead meat to the sleek German designs. Another stat to consider is the high survival rate of the jet pilots. These guys were jumping out due to mechanical damage; they were not being shot down in flames. Big difference there, you top gun types.The Yankee versions lucidly downplay the inferiority of Allied planes. But the scenes of the GIs wondering around captured jets say most of it. It’s like watching aborigines next to a refrigerator, or Canadians next to a contract. Nobody wants to admit that this amazing German technology was the last real breakthrough in combat aircraft. It is amazing how the early films depict every aspect of jet-powered flight known today.
She’s a warm one, perfect for a scooter ride. Check back later to see if I do, it’s early yet. Here’s a question for you. What is the name of that condition where some people loathe any accomplishment if they personally know the achiever? Strangers they are okay with, but they seethe with jealousy if an acquaintance succeeds. What’s that called? This mental aberration is common in dysfunctional families. Why is there no popular term for this widespread neurosis?
As an example, remember Wallace and Panera Pete? Pete with no car, no room, no money, no food, no job—but he once wrote a book, so they say. Pete is a hero, though he doesn’t even own a copy to show you. On the other hand, me, who has written more than most people can read, well that doesn’t count, see? According to Wallace, when I do it, it is “mind control”.
Later, I went for a short scooter ride. I’ve over budget for the month already, which I managed without buying any Xmas presents. I did buy a couple rounds for the house but to celebrate a successful year, not due to the season. Success for me involves a large element of what most would call “getting ahead”. For that I don’t need riches, I merely require a stable home environment. No idiots or surprises when I get in the door.
That’s an interesting way to look at it. I require a carefree home existence. The past year reflects most of my entire adult life. Every rent and bills paid on time, every time, without complaint. No need for credit cards. And except for my recent legal battle, there was always a slight operating surplus. (That’s correct, my being broke the previous few years was over a drawn out legal matter, not medical or social issues. I paid every one of my bills throughout the entire bad patch.)
Whenever I shared a place, that formula goes wrong. Why do I get the feeling some people are nothing but destabilizing influences? Their home lives must be a fiasco of constant worry about meeting their own commitments and cussing down others. How do people live like that and never learn a blessed thing or who to blame? One telltale sign is they can’t shaft their enemies, only their friends. What a great lifestyle.
