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Yesteryear

Tuesday, June 14, 2022

June 14, 2022

Yesteryear
One year ago today: June 14, 2021, on-line copycatting works.
Five years ago today: June 14, 2017, Miami, 70% 3rd world.
Nine years ago today: June 14, 2013, a batbike classic.
Random years ago today: June 14, 2012, except the biggest cities.

           Last day Google announced it had A.I. software that was sentient and published a transcript of the conversation. Today, under pressure, Google reluctantly admits “it was edited and re-arranged to make it enjoyable to read.” The real “conversation” was nine different episodes spread over two days. Sigh, so few people will recall my warnings about Google back in the 90s. To my Canadian readers, here are your tax dollars at work, a website that let’s you listen to the sound of running water. It’s more interesting if you download all the tracks and play them back at once.
           My shoulders said take the day off, that was enough dragging of lumber around. So I tackled the reorganization of my record-keeping, gathering all dead accounts into one location. Not so easy, but it’s done, and example would be the days prior to setting up my trust, things got convoluted as I adjusted my holdings to a whole new set of regulations—finding out later I missed the deadline on a $2,200 tax benefit. Bye-bye to that money, though in some ways I’m glad I did not fill out that form, from what I’m hearing.
           The Turner Diaries. Do I pay $30 for a book that came out in 1978? And it got the extermination wrong on race.

           [Author’s note: for the first time in at least ten years, I stayed in all day. That makes a total of maybe five times in my life. Today, I did not even open the door, I was that burned out from moving lumber, and I’ve only moved around half of it.]

           The van seems to need an A/C recharge every second month, indicating a slow leak. Do I take it in or have a go at it myself? Days like today make a vehicle non-driveable without it. Open the windows and all you do is let in the blast. Taking a break, I read some articles about which people have the most “secret society” press. When the crackpot researchers show up, who do they find in the front row? In any order, the Queen, the Pope, Aristotle Onassis, the Kennedys, Rothschilds, Knights Templar, the Vatican, the Rockefellers, and on occasion, Marilyn Monroe. Our current generations seem woefully lacking in the “mysterious persons” department.
           Consensus is Elvis was just too plain stupid to make the list. One interesting quip, the “Gemstone File” details who were smuggling booze into the USA during prohibition. Interesting because the list has no reason to be inaccurate when it mentions two American men by name. Franklin and Elliot Roosevelt. Ha! Told ya.

           And an article about Alan Alda, who I know mainly from crossword puzzles. He’s around 86, a grandfather. I do not rate him as award-winning for acting, if he was acting at all. I envy him, mind you, only having to work 11 years in his entire life, but that is America for the lucky few. The word is school teachers are quitting in droves, but it seems only the good ones. I know the pay is terrible and the job is dangerous. Teachers are expected to discipline bad students without the authority to administer effective punishment. I know exactly what it is like to be put in that position, your charges acting like little models until the parents back is turned.
           This baby-sitting chore has evil aspects. I was rarely in a classroom that had less than 26 pupils, so I’m not keen on class size arguments. Worse, those arguments tend to dwell on the tribulations of the dumb students, that they are being held back. It’s the opposite. Because the teacher spends too much time over-explaining things, the brighter kids know that the lesson will never get to the good stuff. Teachers are reporting they get increasing numbers of students who cannot read cursive script (ordinary handwriting). That is pathetic.

Picture of the day.
Large stone, location unknown.
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           Harrumph, one of the channels on my beautiful Kenwood has quit. The way the entire system is set up that will not be easy to troubleshoot. I think I take to separating the stereo components into what gets used most often than what looks nice. I may even bring them down onto the desk where I can get at the back panels more easily. I’m still watching “Word of Honor”, finally we get to the courtroom. It’s stereotypical, I don’t buy the portrayal of every soldier acting to the highest standards at all times.
           The movie is well-scripted, it’s the parts about army life I find infernal. I know precisely what it is like to be forced to do meaningless work for which you will never be paid For that matter, I know well what it is like to have to avoid work you want to do because if you are seen doing it, that becomes your job as of today, and by tomorrow you’ll be doing it for everybody else, too. It’s the old I must like work or I would not get up and go do it every day. So, who will be the surprise witness, or have I figured that out too early? Meanwhile, examine this drawing of a trebuchet.

           Stock market woes, may it fail. It cannot be fixed, it is totally corrupt and has been since I can remember. Let it implode and start over. Instead, I read a couple articles on constructing a trebuchet. Might come in handy in November, it looks like the bad guys are actually going to try something the good guys aren’t going to allow. I learned that the study of trebuchets is somewhat popular among engineers and there may be more people today who can design them than the Middle Ages.
           The correct ratio for placing the fulcrum is 3.75:1 of the beam length. We’ll assume a gravity model, in which case your counterweight should be 133:1 to your projectile. Here’s a video of a guy who built a trebuchet to K-cups. I think he should launch the sad gastrozombies who put hazelnut flavoring in coffee in the first place. I got into some of the mechanics and looked at around six demonstrations. Had to pull myself away.
           There are two things you’ll need me around for when the time comes. One is to figure out where the pivot arm stops momentarily, and two, how to design the sling pin to release that that same moment. Turns out the best velocity is the point where the spin and pin are coordinated. Such a weapon would be more than useful at night against an enemy that had no way to detect a silent flying stone. Now, improve this with an Arduino, I’m going for coffee. A real coffee out in the kitchen.

           What a laugh. The Democrats today announced they had to postpone a fundraiser for Kamala Harris because nobody, not even hard core Democrats, were buying the tickets. The way things are going for Joey & Gang, the next one will be even worse. Biden’s approval rating is listed as low as 16%.

ADDENDUM
           An on-line debate got my attention. The topic was about ID having expiry dates. I’m against it for most purposes. What got me was the arguments of people who agreed with ID expiry dates, to a one they missed the point. I was amazed how so many people could be conditioned and indoctrinated on the topic. With one or two exceptions, these presumed it was picture ID, and that almost any institution had the right to demand your ID and reject it if it was expired. That’s where I beg to differ. With the arrival of computers, the act of showing ID has become a very critical decision, where one mistake can have severe consequences.
           I had a recent run-in with my bank over this. I spent time and money to have a trust account that kept my personal data off the daily transactions of the bank. Suddenly, they demanded ID, people who have known me for 13 years. I showed it through the glass, but the lady wanted it to “update” my information—you see how instantly they become weasels. The info on my current ID is not the same as when I opened the account years ago. But all the other info, including address has not changed. I don’t mind showing ID, but she was going to put my personal info on a data base that would appear who knows where—a total disrespect of the concept of trust accounts.

           Eventually I can replace the old ID, but for now, I drained the account to a minimal balance and use it only to deposit checks made out to the trust. When somebody grabs anything that belongs to you and holds it back until you do what they say, I call that a criminal activity. No, I don’t want to hear that they have trouble with other people if they use that as an excuse to get on everybody’s case. That’s the government’s job, not the bank.
           My question is, did they flag my account so I can no longer make deposits, either? We’ll soon find out. Time to set up a new trust account elsewhere. I never did like people who call themselves “manager”, but they cannot make any decisions or exceptions. But I suppose it is better than calling themselves bum-boys, which is what they are. I was assured by the old manager that the trust account would never have my personal information placed where it could be accessed at the teller level. But, we know who owns the banks.

           As I was saying, what a laugh and a disappointment at the pro-expiry people. They all sidestepped the issue with off-topic questions like what if you get fat, or dye your hair, or grow a beard? What if you grow older (duh)? All of these are classic mis-directions, they don’t answer the question. My point if view is that it should be up to you, not the bank, if you want the latest up-to-date picture on your ID. If the bank knows perfectly well who you are—it should not be their business if you move or even change your identity. It should be your decision who you tell.
           Oh, I know I’m a lonely voice on that issue. But have you understood the question? My birth certificate and other forms of ID never expire, and picture ID is a relatively new form, so don’t bother with the “people change” angle, that is not the focus here. Let other people blindly fall into the trap of showing ID to strangers and letting them record it. It’s fun to listen to them later when they get doxxed, ratioed, shadow banned, threatened, phished, whaled, pretexted, and have their identities stolen with all the drastic hardships that follow them for life. I’ll have none of it.

Last Laugh