One year ago today: June 14, 2015, on tourist taxes.
Five years ago today: June 14, 2011, a generic day.
Nine years ago today: June 14, 2007, I don’t mind drumboxes.
Random years ago today: June 14, 2009, Wallace meets Ranger Leslie.
MORNING
A family of sparrows has finally found my birdfeeder. Shown here is a finch, a somewhat larger bird, but they wait until the sparrows are finished. Too bad they took so long, since I am taking that birdfeeder with me to Lakeland. There is an urban legend that birds will die if you cease feeding them. I do believe that any birds or other animals that learn to eat “people food” quickly develop parasites. That’s why I don’t feed pigeons.
Quit pretending on your own or on America’s behalf that these weirdos are accepted. That so-called acceptance is nothing more than people, including their parents, playing along so that the queers will think they are winning and STFU. Reminder, I am not for or against queers, but I am against any law that gives identifiable groups any special privileges. They already have all the same privileges as the rest of us. True, these non-mainstream types may not get the same treatment as others, but that is a social, not a legal matter. And the government should keep their nose out of it.
This is kind of neat, having nothing to do. My house search algorithm is shut down for a while. And the new place is waiting on an email. With no mortgage, there is nobody involved that is selling me back my own money at interest, so I’m free to go spend some. So you know what I did? I went to the foreign cinema. A French film called “The Measure of Man”, a grand title for a film about a man who lost his job. It’s a movie you could read a lot into and that’s probably the intention.
This union worker loses his fancy job and cannot support his wife and gimped kid, both obvious low-budget extras. He takes a temp job as security at the mall where he finds his duties include the disdainful firing of other employees over petty theft. Yes, the movie is a go-see for the drama but I rarely identify with the problems of people on credit. A major premise of this movie is that you must empathize with people whose “bills to pay” include long-term debt, the most man-made of sub-moron lifestyles.
I don’t empathize, no sir. Lose your house with only five years to pay? Think about that next time your type forces house prices beyond reason by borrowing money and the amount of time you spent bragging about how much you made on the deal. People get sick and tired of that, you know. The movie has an inconclusive ending. I found the scenes where he was subject to peer review utterly maddening. Where the ugly lady and the fag in the room criticize the way his sentences fell in volume at the end and blamed him when he said anything they did not understand.
If I say anything you don’t understand, you’d best not be trying to say it is my fault. Like I have difficulty with the language, or I speak too quietly, some crap like that. If you go there, I’m asking for a vote if anybody else is having this same “trouble” as you. Then, I will “give you instructions”.
Always remember the old German saying, “Home is where the ceiling fan is.”
Napa Valley.
NOON
Sadly, my barber’s parents both died last month. The guy is in shock. Once again, I gave him extra money on the condition he take a full hour’s break after work and just sit down for a cup of tea. He doesn’t have a clue how to budget his time or his emotional condition. If he did, I’d advise him to buy a house up in the interior, kind of thing. He is the most unassertive person I’ve met in Florida.
Then again, without unwelcome autoplay, I would have zero contact with the hipster world. Hey, I have my own standards in what is cool. And one thing that disgusts me is non-blond men who think fashion is cool. Well, it is, just not on them. Exception? Sean Connery long ago. If you are not Sean Connery, don’t dress like Maxim magazine. It makes you look like a dork trying to act cool which is definitely not cool. And even if you are blond, see photo, the watchwords are “measured understatement”.
I went chasing around. That’s it. So maybe how about some gossip and trivia? Let’s see, well, the authorities are still bending over backward (in the baddest sense) to avoid admitting the Zika virus is mainly spread by illegal immigrant pregnant women who have never been inoculated against anything. I’m trying to devise a term for Millennial advertising, like for 3D printers, flat screen TVs, and water-repellent nano sprays. These ads are very carefully constructed to ensure you do not see the serious product drawbacks.
Drawbacks like the flat screen ads can’t show side-to-side action, and that anti-water coating is so fragile, it wears of at the mere touch. Oh, and may I add to y’day’s link to my old zoomba instructor. The one who was “too young for me”. Remember I said in five years she’ll be pushing 30 and no longer too young for anybody? And still living at home with mommy? Well, guess what? The barrier now is her permanent and irreversible attachment to mommy, so even I won’t take her now. I didn’t make the rules.
Jillian Clarke: Public Health, 2004. Jill “scientifically” investigated the five-second rule about food dropped on the floor. If she keeps it up, she’ll soon be publishing posthumously.
The rule doesn’t apply if mom blows the carpet fuzz off the food.
NIGHT
JZ and I remain at loggerheads over the new floor. He’s correct that it might not be sagging corners, but I’m correct that such a theory does not explain the unevenness. (Did I just say “unevenness”?) My stance is that until at least a section of that floor gets ripped up, there is no way to know for sure. He points out that is a lot of work, but I say so what? It is indoors, air conditioned, and the new place is plenty big enough to live in one section while working on the other.
Don’t get me wrong, the guy is a hard worker. He cleared three garbage bags of leaves with a pitchfork. Ah, somebody said, but that’s only half the six bags I did myself. Okay, here’s the difference. I know how to pace myself. I took regular breaks and avoided the hot part of the day. You see where this is going. He works like a maniac and won’t even stop for a glass of water until the work is done. And no siesta. How does one work with some guy who won’t take a siesta?
However, he now says fixing the floor is beyond our range. Not so, it is actually a very systematic task. I wonder if the guy is just bowing out. If so, that’s temporary and besides, I never count on anyone in the long run. The place is perfectly livable with a crooked floor. You get what you pay for. I replaced that rotten floor at Wally’s Folly in 2009 all by myself and that was before my condition had stabilized. I got an estimate for removing the dead tree of $320. For that price, I won’t let JZ go up a ladder. He’s too valuable to risk for less than a thousand. That's a joke, Sparky.
By nightfall the outside temp in Broward has fallen to 86°. I’m heading out for a brew. The next trip plans on taking my work desk to the new house, so I’ll spend the next few days packing. Might as well stop for a break now. Later, there were two new fat broads in the saloon. Everybody knew them except me.
ADDENDUM
Most generally agree that BBC used to make excellent documentaries. I was searching for one when I found this post on German “secret” weapons. Actually, a good number of these weapons were known world-wide before the war, but what the world didn’t have was the excellent pool of German brainpower to make them work. Remember, when the Brits bombed Peenenumde, they did not target the factories, but the civilian housing tracts. The airplane as an instrument of murder. They hoped to catch the scientists, but oh no, that is not a war crime if the victors do it. (It was these horrible British and American attacks on civilian populations that was the reason the Germans called the V1 and V2 "vengeance" weapons.)
It is often interesting to chat with JZ about these parts of history because his point of view is so typical, that is, he totally believes the version that is taught in American schools. Careful, I am not saying that version is wrong, only that it readily identifiable as the standard account spoon-fed by the media. On the other hand I will state that such accounts are rarely accurate.
What we do not discuss is the real issue of my interest, the rocket science. This material may be way above my head, but at least I think about what I see. And this documentary finally addresses something I saw years ago when viewing the German rocket crashes. I could see that except where the propulsion system malfunctioned, the rockets were getting some 300 feet into the air quite nicely, then losing control. Just at the altitude they began to nose over toward the target, something went wrong.
I still don’t know what the problem was, but this video contains the first explanation I’ve ever heard that makes sense. The rocket was okay until the weather caused the vanes to turn the rocket into the wind. Aha, that makes so much logic, I’ll go with that. The gyroscope compensated only for the internal balance of the rocket. It had to be expanded to account for the weather. Duh, how did I miss that?
Last Laugh
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