One year ago today: July 16, 2020, building my “roof”.
Five years ago today: July 16, 2016, building my “floor”.
Nine years ago today: July 16, 2012, the horsefly picture.
Random years ago today: July 16, 2004, Martha in the slammer.
Inflation. It’s pegged at 5.4% in June. So far, nothing much I buy except lumber. But it’s coming and nowhere to hide. The upset in Arizona is under the way. I’d partial to the side that says election tampering is the illegal overthrow of the government, which carries the death penalty. That would include vote handlers, the counting machine people, and every politician in the chain right up to old Joe. That’s likely to throw a scare into them, but also means they have nothing to lose fighting over every technicality. The audit found 107,000 illegally cast ballots, but not how many people were involved. And at this point, nobody cares what happens to those thousands who intentionally voted illegally. My solution is large prison camps in the desert.
If anyone wonders what happened to the $80 surplus last day, here’s my new van cooler. It is also a heater, but I’ve never yet needed such a thing in my vehicle. It seems very well-designed and built for fifty bucks, so I hope it isn’t some factory run-off. It works on both 12V and 110V. It keeps things around 35°F cooler than inside the van on a hot day like now, so that seems like ice cold. Fair enough. The next $15 I bought a pair of sandals. Think of them more like dress sandals, they can be hard to find in this climate. I’m back home, but it should not take nearly half a day to run a load of laundry and do some light shopping. Yet, here I am, back inside the A/C and exhausted. Oh, and to any budding Sherlock types out there who think they’ve just discovered my shoe-size, nope. The color shown here is also wrong.
He timed it perfectly that I had to wait while 27 more vehicles decided to drive down that nothing road. Moments after this started, my temperature gauge indicated low water. I mean, how do these peasants know? I barely made it to a water source. Only to find this time my wet laundry was scattered around. And my seat started acting up just as a damn telemarketer decides to call. Mr. Trump, make a law that all phones must have a mode that you can set it to take calls only from certain numbers that you control. If the telephone people don’t like it, screw ‘em. They been screwing you for 150 years. Then, thanks to the delay caused by all these things, I forgot to pick up batteries for my Bluetooth devices, without which I cannot do my lessons as slated for this afternoon. Unless I want to drive downtown again.
Blueberries.
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I see an 18-year-old is being lauded as the youngest person in space. I have a reputation for opposing such news reports unless they explain the source of the money. The seats on Bezo’s capsule cost $28 million each. We had a lot of this asinine reporting while I was growing up, I recall the one about the 9-year-old who flew solo cross-country. Solo in her dad’s plane with him in the co-pilot’s seat. Maybe I am jealous, but if so it is because I do not see these people as having done anything more difficult that being born rich. These great things they take credit for are not personal accomplishments.
In equally truthful news, Twitter has released a carefully timed video announcing that their fact-checkers have determined the Arizona audit has found nothing. It’s over, Joe’s the president, go home. Twitter has become part of that minority who think they can cower everyone by making fake announcements and canceling anyone who contradicts. The bottom line is they stand to get trampled by the facts which are so overwhelming only fanatics can disbelieve it. Don’t look at me, I recognized Twitter for what it was and have never used the app. That’s mostly true, I often set up an anonymous account on new items as they appear to check them out. You know what I mean.
Some work gets done every day, even if it isn’t on the goal in focus. I cut the door trim and stacked it to unwarp. Then I thought, I’ll work in the shade and repair that canopy over the dryer. It’s outside and there was just a tarp over it. I happen to have some pieces of Ondura the right size. So I say to myself, this should take maybe an hour. It’s a tune I’ve whistled before. This morning tipped me off it was not my day. Another example. I found a piece just long enough to slice in half to add an extra brace. As I go to drag the largest piece of roofing, I have to take a few steps backwards. The piece fell over right in the path, where I stepped on it, breaking one end of that was 4” too short. You get the idea. But it’s done and I just got out of the hot shower. Nothing like it on a day like this, left the door open and steamed up the kitchen.
What irks a lot of Americans is the weirdness of the law. The counties in Arizona, for instance, won’t comply with court orders to hand over the ballots. If you or I did such a thing, they’d clap the cuffs on us instantly. But when a pack of glorified filing clerks refuses, things drag on for weeks and months. Go in there and start arresting people and the ballots will magically start appearing. Again, we don’t understand how they can get away with disobeying the law. Does not ignoring a subpoena lead to a court order, then to contempt of court? Instead, these county people seem to have unlimited power to block everything. Since when did subpoenas become an arguable thing?
They won’t hand over is the voting machines. They argue that there is no evidence the machines were compromised, something that can only be determined if they hand over the machines. Any child will spot the scam which is the same old “no evidence” line so worn out nobody wants to hear it any more. It also raises the suspicion that the county is planning on using the suspect machines during the 2022 mid-terms. I repeat, most of us do not get this—if the subpoena does not work, instantly move to a court order like happens to the rest of us. Go in and arrest these people, don’t stand around letting them cook up fake defenses. It’s like a murder suspect saying he doesn’t have to hand over his gun because without it, there is no evidence.
Meanwhile, I’m having an extra cup of coffee. This is the important goal of the day, that extra cup of coffee when the gauge says it is over 95°F out there. She’s a warm one and I got sweet nothing done today. I’d rather be in Tennessee. But should anything go wrong, this place is now ready for a bigger crowd. The edicts coming out of the White House have become really disturbing, with talk of Confederate armies, censoring tweets, and government talk of banning “misinformation”. Trouble is brewing and it is caused by DC.
Those people can have calm and quiet any time they want. Ah, coming home from the club is nice when you discover there’s still another Yeung-Ling in the back of the fridge. I stopped on Hwy 60 and it was a disk jockey, the lowest form of entertainment unless pond scum learns to dance. Two beefy women sidled up to me but I was busy with something far more interesting—my gas budget to Tennessee. I’m not that fond of women who take what they can get. It’s not my fault I’m the last nice guy in Polk County. What am I supposed to do? Rob a bank just to fit in?
