I came this close to buying it. In fact, I told the seller yesterday, “If nothing weird happens between now and tomorrow morning, I’ll take it.”
That, of course, was a trigger for all manner of weird. Forgive me if I don’t get into the details. I’m tired of this.
Anyhow, it was a nifty little car. Great fun to drive. Smooth. But despite all the assurances, I don’t think I’d have ever felt completely at ease with a vehicle that old and that high-mileage. Questions about the seller’s mechanical competence tilted the deal in the direction of no.
Now it’s back to going on foot (and sometimes in the cars of friends and neighbors) while I gradually try another thing or two to fix the Xterra. Next thought: siphon out the gas and replace it with non-ethanol fuel.
But once the ankle is working really reliably again, fact is that I don’t need a vehicle as much as most people do.
Our cultural cold war is about to boil into open conflict, thanks to last week’s Supreme Court decisions. Some of us think we’re ready, but we’re not.
I’m not saying we’re going to be shooting each other by next Tuesday or even next year. Just that the last remaining bridge between the old culture of America and the new culture of elite America got blown to smithereens. Last week was a point of no return with the Supreme Court’s Obamacare (“the Constitution is whatever we want it to be”) decision and gay marriage decision.
Supremicists are pathetic. White supremacists may be the most notable of the breed. Their websites are loaded with scary-looking skulls and lightning bolts, but their prose is barely literate and their “proofs” of their superiority tend to be long-ago debunked books and transparently bogus “scientific evidence.”
They operate in cells of one (or two or three) not because it’s a wise security measure but because they can’t get along with each other for 10 minutes. And much of their semi-literate ranting consists of denunciations of each other.
Not one of these “superior” beings has made a single impressive accomplishment in any area of endeavor — except, rarely, murder. Which gets headlines but fails to impress as a great work of humanity.
But they are far from the only variety of supremacist, and all of them are pathetic.
And via Brad at WendyMcElroy.com comes word that Google is now trying to out-NSA the NSA by secretly planting listening devices on our computers via its Chrome browser (and even the open source Chromium version).
No, I’m not getting married. I’ve just borrowed this car for a couple of days.
It’s old. It’s borrowed. It’s blue. It’s also for sale.
I did something on Thursday (no idea what) to stress my ankle. Now I realize I was overly optimistic about strolling to town three or four times a week so soon after breaking it.
The car is a 1993 Geo Prizm with 219,000 miles on it. Sounds awful on at least two counts, doesn’t it? Maybe three. Until you realize it’s actually a Toyota Corolla in disguise. Online reviews sing its praises — troublefree! cheap to own!
Still … risky to buy such an aged thing, I fear. OTOH, it had extensive maintenance less than 30k miles ago (including a timing belt and new water pump), its history is local and well-known, and it comes with a promise that the seller will personally fix anything that goes wrong with it in the first year. Running great so far.
Oh, and it gets nearly double the Xterra’s gas mileage.
Meantime, I have a bunch of boxes to take the the PO and groceries to get. I’ll rollerskate to town in this little thing.
If you haven’t already cast your v*te for The Zelman Partisans, please do.
And if you have a blog, a FB page, a Twitter feed, or neighbors who can be arm-twisted into v*ting for TZP, spread the word.
We’ve fallen a bit in the rankings. We were in the middle-ish of the pack, but gratifyingly above both those legislative compromisers CCRKBA and NSSF. As of Sunday morning, though, we were sandwiched between them.
Ugh! How’d you like to be tightly stuck between those two?
V*ting continues through August 1, so TZP has lots of time to catch up! All we need right now is to keep momentum going.
Coming someday to a country near you? As of last night, only 40% of ATM machines in Greece still had money in them.
I’ve been collecting links on the Confederate flag idiocy — collecting links and absurdities by the thousands, it seems — then closing the pages again and letting them go.
I hope to have something to say about this cultural cleansing and how rapidly it’s consumed the brains of heretofore sane individuals and corporate managers. But frankly, the whole business is so flabbergasting I haven’t yet thought of the right words.
Though theoretically there’s a Craigslist covering my area, most of the activity on it is hours away. So I never pay any attention to it.
But I got to looking at Hondas, Toyotas & such yesterday and found one newer-model Honda way, way, way too cheap with no explanation at all. Except there were some cuss marks (&^5$#) in the headline, clearly indicating some sort of story.
I emailed the woman (supposed woman, but who knows), who responded with a tragic account about how the car was in perfect shape but it belonged to her recently killed son (cut down in the prime of his youth by a drunk — while on his way to his little brother’s birthday party, yet) and she couldn’t stand the sight of it. Now she just wants to get rid of it. If I want it, send my contact info.
I’d asked earlier where within my Craigslist area the car was located. She hadn’t replied. When I asked again … she sent me a long story about the car being in Macon, GA, but she had a prior arrangement with eBay motors to ship it anywhere in the country and I’d have five days to inspect it and return it on her dime … blah blah blah. And if you want it send your contact info.
I went back to Craigslist and found — no surprise — that the listing had been pulled. But there was another, for a $2000 Lexus that was so suspiciously similar. Cuss marks in the title, email addy identifying the “seller” as a woman, same basic info about the vehicle as the other listing, incredible price, no location given.
Fascinating. Do people actually send thousands of dollars to strangers for cars they’ve never laid eyes on? Heck, I feel sort of doofussy for responding to the ad at all, let alone giving a moment’s credence to the “tragic” story. But sending money is a whole different thing.
I know Craigslist has all the perils of doing any sort of business with random strangers. I know the ‘Net can be a strange and perilous place. But are vehicle listings like this a known Craigslist “thing”? Or have I just run into some rogue weasel?
ADDED: Some readers seem to think I don’t understand that this is absolutely, without question a scam. I do understant that. I was a little slow on the uptake, but as soon as I heard the BS about Macon, GA, and eBay shipping, I headed right back to Craigslist to report it and I blacklisted the scammer’s email. I’m just wondering how common this particular sort of scam is.
Was thinking this morning — no idea why — about a friend who was once arrested on the absolutely magnificent (and no doubt Victorian) charge of “tending to lead an idle, lewd, and dissolute life.” A kind of catch-all charge, I gather, for underage kids who weren’t actually caught in any specific act, but who were nevertheless up to no good.
A 17-year-old high school senior, he was busted at a college party where drugs figured heavily. Apparently that high-flown charge was originally invented by reformists committed to the belief that minors were salvageable and as yet incapable of actually leading an idle, lewd, and dissolute life.
I can confirm that my friend was already thoroughly immersed in lewdness and dissolution (which eventually killed him) but not idleness. On the contrary, he was a diligent, focused worker who got a full-time job at 18, never left it, and continued to rise in the ranks despite being stoned out of his mind half the time he was on the clock. He bought a house when he’d barely turned 21 and owned lots of toys for his genuinely idle druggie friends to steal while he was at work.
As it happened, the “idle, lewd, and dissolute” charge had to be dropped because cops made the mistake of tossing him into a cell with adults when he was underage. So the Victorians never got a chance to save his tender young self from dissolute ways. Not that they’d have succeeded in any case. Never in my life did I know anybody so determined on slow self-destruction.
Speaking of being highly functional while on drugs, a new study casts doubts on the arbitrary blood-THC levels pot-legalizing states have chosen for punishing drivers.
Until recently, I believed Joel was the only one among us who intended to betray the revolution and become dictator for life.*
However, it now appears that others harbor this secret not-so-secret ambition. Just this week (while addressing the hotly subversive topic of pink plastic flamingos**), Commentariat member A.G. weighed in, dubiously claiming benevolent intentions, followed by Dana, who announced a more comprehensive agenda to open his term as dictator for life.***
That got me wondering. How many more intend to betray the revolution and become DfL? Good heavens, it’s possible the field is as crowded**** as the Republican and Democrat presidential races.
So. Your freedom fun question for the day is: What will you do on your first day as dictator for life?
Strictly for laughs, okay? I realize the temptation to find a certain “conservative” Supreme Court justice and give him a fair but extremely brief trial before … ahem … may be tempting once one holds the dictator seat. But let’s keep it light today.
Go for it.
* In the extremely unlikely chance that such an opportunity should arise.
** Let our NSA overlords anxiously ponder the significance of that one.
*** Presumably very short life, just before being liquidated by the usual mob of deviously plotting henchpersons.
**** Though surely not as loathsome, scurvy, and scrofulous
Ever notice how many people have pugs these days? And how big pugs figure into “funny dog” videos? They’re funky little dogs with not-horrible personalities, but they have so many health problems that you have to practically become a vet to deal with them all. You wonder why people want them.
It wasn’t like that back in those mythic golden days. Back then, everybody wanted Rin Tin Tin. Lassie. Roy Rogers’ Bullet. Even though in my neck of the woods we usually just got, “It followed me home, Mom. Can I keep it?”
Then we started getting a little frou-frou. Cocker spaniels got bought and bred and re-bred and inbred to the point of being like something out of Alien. So they got dropped and … on it goes. You get little spikes — like Dalmatians every time that d*mned movie gets reissued or remade.
But to whatever extent we identify with our dogs (and it’s the next closes thing to a human bond, closer for some) it seems as if we’ve gradually gone from wanting to identify ourselves with heroic figures to something clownish, even pathetic.
At the same time, of course, we’re living in this marvelous renaissance of larger-than-life comic book figures. And it’s great. But it’s just entertainment. The film industry has reached the point where they can make grown-ups believe in Spider-Man or Captain America and make women lust for Loki or Thor (I am a Loki woman, myself).
Even if we secretly harbor some adolescent identification with Tony Stark or Natasha Romanoff, the well-balanced among us are not hankering to don sparkly tights or iron suits.
Every once in a while these movies will really speak to us. Captain America has had some strong words for the surveillance state. And maybe we harbor that within and watch that particular film clip again. But as far as action goes it’s something way off there in the distance.
So it appears that the more heroic the movies get, the farther heroism is from our real lives or any real expectations we have for ourselves or our culture. We’ve moved “heroic ideals” into the realm of fantasy while we increasingly lurk around, cowed by political correctness, by hostile law enforcers, by the need to avoid offending, by laws made by and for well-funded elites from an entirely different culture than our own, and by the drudgy necessities of life.