One year ago today: September 5, 2021, cheating at Minesweeper.
Five years ago today: September 5, 2017, begin last Rebel trip.
Nine years ago today: September 5, 2013, me, coffee, & Denny’s.
Random years ago today: September 5, 2006, a generic day.
Let’s get things done today. Turns out others share my symptoms so it’s [a mild flu] going around and should not stop this from being a work day. First chore is to find that roll of solder. I slept in a bit from reading the Admiral book. It keeps me amused by the quaint habits of the English. Everybody with money knows each other even if they’ve never met. They take great stock in who was seen where. They can tell who is around the bend of the road by the squeak of a wheel or the clop of hooves. But you have to figure out on your own that expressions like “an ear near the wood” means eavesdropping.
They can tell by looking how soon a ship will sail and the arguments over inclosure (as they spell it) often have t be read several times go get the logic. I take it the successful inclosures increased the manor income by 26%--but that does not mean the boon was shared by the peasants. There were glaring inequities even in the old system, where the peasant with the most cows could crowd up the best common land for himself.
The term “yellow” Admiral is first met on page 106, nearly halfway. It seems unless a new war starts in Peru, the Admiral may have to return to the farm. Rough life. Half the farm is good land, half is not, which is a big part of the book’s theme. People take turns trying to convince him either way, but most are for inclosure of (roughly quoted) “land that, without tillage, supports no more than a few goats and produces little but poverty, idleness, and poachers, half of them on the parish.” Parish means on welfare, that is, dependent on the church in those days. The way it should be today.
Turmeric. It’s being advertised as the next health food in a long list that somehow escaped discovery for the past two hundred years. I view these as nothing more than announcing that some government scientists have bough shares in a turmeric factory. Last day I got a jar on sale and found a recipe. Now here’s a twisty description, I know I’ve had this spice before. It is an ordinary spice, nothing special or mystic about it. But today must be the first time I tasted it in isolation because I like it. But can’t remember where I’ve ever had it. More than one source says it will increase my potency. Which brings up another item. Wal*Mart.
Well, we have another round of old lady hustlers. This blog records these irregular waves, where some magazine or something tells lonely little old ladies where to find new husbands. My first brush with this was when I bought a laundromat in my early twenties. You’d get divorcees in there husband hunting two or three times a month. This progressed through the ages along my journey. In my thirties it was women going back to college computer courses to meet the next dupe. In my forties, they would join clubs where men were known to congregate. And so on. Now some place is telling them to get a job at Wal*Mart and watch for age-appropriate men buying bachelor stuff.
Sadly, with my white hair, I look the part, but please ladies, I don’t need any help lifting my potatoes. No, to me it isn’t flattery. Call me names, but I tend to like people with a little more going for them than Wal*mart. This one checkout lady today just would not quit. She kept helping me scan so when I got home to record the purchases, items were mixed all over the list. Thanks for nothing, lady.
Amazon is slowing down, canceling new warehouse projects and shuffling people. People seem oblivious to how badly DC has allowed the economy to sink. The talk is always how they want a violent event to justify martial law. Others say be peaceful instead, and are accused of being appeasers. I’m looking at a piece of vacant land 30 miles out of Nashville with no building commitment. As usual, the real estate people want to play telephone tag and get enough info to scope you in advance, which does not work around me. Times like this that $20 per month answering service pays for itself in a single call. And here’s one for anyone who says I am humblebragging about plagiarism on this blog. You would have to be a long-term reader to spot this one, but TheRegister has come up with this article on the superiority of older OS interfaces.
This article is not directly what is copied from this blog. They are smarter than that. What you are watching for is the choice of words, order, and the tempo of presentation. If you replace what they say about Win 95 with what my writings about Win XP, and you might swear that I had written that article and not Rupert Goodwins. Remember the Elizabeth Holmes tale, the lady behind the Theranos stock swindle? Sure, she’s guilty as hell but that is not what rates her mention here. Rather, she joins the exclusive club of Martin Shkreli and Martha Stewart for doing exactly the kind of insider double-dealing swindle that Congress and Pelosi do all the time—but forgetting to give the shysters their cut. Her final option was overturned and she’s facing 20 years.
Europe, for all its bureaucratic woes, does produce some excellent consumer protections, many aimed at the American business practices. The latest one is free updates. While it makes sense they should be free, what it really means is the issuing company had best not pull a 3G swindle for at leas five years. Right now, they could do a Boost Mobile and sell you a phone they know darn well will be obsolete next month.
Your first Wal*Mart.
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We get two types of nice mornings in Florida. The nice and the wet. Three nice in a row but by almost 9:00AM today, everything was covered with a clammy dew. Hoping another nice day would burn it off, I went shopping. Instead, it got dry but shot up to the high 90’s and caught me downtown walking on the blistering pavements. I dragged my arse a half-mile an hour and finally got in the door at 4:00PM. Merdifully, I left the back bedroom A/C and by 6:00PM I’m still there, the cool room. (I then lapsed into a nap that lasted seven hours.)
The heat continued all afternoon, so I threw on a DVD about a famous lady from Nashville who returns home. It’s one of those plots where ordinary trials are presented as so very much worse for the rich and famous. The funny part is how many of the stars buy into thatfigment themselves. I worked and fought my way from a miserable poverty to comfortable enough—and knew when to quit before selling my soul for a house and a new car every five years with the brass to call it a career.
I can tell you first hand the heartaches are the same wherever you are on the scale, but suffering in comfort wins. So it’s amusing to hear rich people gripe when there a millions that would trade places for their version of a broken heart. And there is something I dunno about watching the gal you just dumped speed off in her daddy’s Mercedes that hurts less than slamming the door to her mobile home.
I tell you the heartaches may feel the same, rich or poor, but these rich go funny. Every tale I’ve met on the subject in this life dwells on how the rich seem incapable of understanding there are a million poor who would trade them for their set of emotional turmoils. “Running from My Roots” is such a DVD, with acting so bad I now have to watch it. That rich-poor setting is paralleled by how religious people define sin in their own minds. So far, this goodie-two-shoes singer got drunk in a bar once and is facing the loss of her career. However, the date on the jacket is 2018, so nothing is made of how she’s had a boob-job, takes prescription drugs, and is shacked up with her boyfriend. Sin also has to flow with the times, you know.
The story pushes the limit for woketard, with sub-plot of a white man married to a black woman. They’ve a nubile daughter named, you guessed it, Zoe. Most everybody spends their spare time doing wholesome things like painting the eaves. Hold on, they may not be a couple, the white guy just has a black daughter. Anyway, on with the show. And, oh no, our singer, “Faith” has now gone to a reception and had her second drink. We know where this is heading. People eat wholesome grilled cheese sandwiches served by waitresses who know the topic of this upcoming Sunday sermon. Wait, I get it, he’s the pastor in her home town, a high school flame and they are about to reconnect.
Remember how touchy I was about giving out information that would wind up on a database? Whose laughing now? Just today le’ts see what’s happened to those with nothing to hide. That’s funny-ironic, they are so ignorant they don’t know what to hide. Okay, today the tax people leaking 120,000 peoples records. Ireland sues Instagram over children’s data. And TikTok’s user base of 2 billion people was stolen. I guess if you grow up in a world where your privacy has been stripped since birth, you learn not to value it, even in other people.
I see the term Nazi is on the way to replacing the other N-word. The woketards wore out “racist” to the point where it is more of an insult to the people who use it, kind of as admission they’ve lost. Lately I’ve read that the word is more than a Yiddish insult coined from “Archenazi”. They say some guy named Heiden was first to push the term because it kind of means “nuts” in Austrian slang and roughly rhymes with “Sozi”, a contraction in German for “national socialist”. Interesting how the Internet works.
This hobbit movie (I never followed the cult) featuring black actors is getting blasted out of the water. If it hits the Dollar Tree bin, I may watch it, but like many Americans, the concept is a joke. Why? Because if the black race was a wonderful as they claim, they would invent their own heroes. It comes across that their own race is nothing but drug dealers and car thieves so for heroes they have to steal ours. And this afternoon, the only reporter still investigating the Las Vegas shootings was found stabbed to death on his front lawn.
ADDENDUM
It is now six years since I permanently moved into the cabin. The neighborhood has a few changes but no new buildings and as for character, look at the SSIDs. “Preacher 1”, “Choir”, “LilaGospel”. My sprained hip has slowed me down enough that the past month and the previous naturally slow month in the heat have produced a budget surplus of $910. Subtracting what I paid for the new saw and other goodies overdue, I still have $560 I could play with. It’s not enough for Tennessee and too much for Miami. Check back on that one.
Later, I spend an extra $100 on groceries. And how about that Mike Lindell, the pillow guy. I find him kind of corny and regularly mistake him for a televangelist. But he is right too often to ignore and he now says the Supreme Court will 9-0 overturn the election. Eighteen months too late and fearing for their futures, suddenly they do have an opinion and pick a side. It’s time again for Trump to read the snake poem.
