- Deez Nuts is polling quite well against other presidential candidates.
- And if this poll means anything, there’s more sanity in the country and more hope for harmony between the races than sometimes seems.
- I forgot until Jim Bovard reminded me: Yesterday was the 23rd anniversary of the feds beginning their killings at Ruby Ridge. Yesterday, Sammy. Today Vicki. There’s no statute of limitations on murder …
- For those who catch killer cops on camera: the personal aftermath.
- The Dow (and darned near everything else) goes dowwwwwwwwwwwwn in a way last seen in infamous 2008. And this time, what tricks do global governments have left to pull out of their hats?
- Starting one year as a nomad. While this is hardly the spontaneous adventure it seems (how many other nomads have multiple sponsors?), it’s still interesting. (Brought to you by BioLite, the folks who make the ingenious camp stoves and related off-grid goodies.)
- What we do for love. And desperation. Your awwwww story for the day — if awwwww can include alligators.
- OTOH, maybe you prefer your awwww with bears. (Here’s the video.)
- Prisons and the reading matter they prohibit.
- $15 minimum wage: The Tony Soprano Enabling Act.
- Well. That’s yet another reason not to go to movie theaters. (H/T LA)
- Another puppycide by cop. Another example of sociopathic contempt for life, including human life. This in the City of Brotherly Love.
- Any maroon who’d sign up with an adultery website, handing over all manner of personal details in the process, is probably dumb enough to deserve this. And it’s yet another opportunity to snicker at that ubiquitous commercial Christian, Josh Duggar. (Less amusing is that some in their faction would prefer to blame and punish Duggar’s wife while being more inclined to forgive him.)
- Jeez, I no sooner finish an article about H.P. Lovecraft than I open one about racks of skulls in an Aztec temple.
- Seems the EPA’s Colorado spill wasn’t its first this year.
- 10 reasons (not just privacy concerns) not to switch to Windows 10.
- :-) Sword + righteous determination beats knife-wielding cowards. And that reminded faithful reader PT of “I’ll see your six …”.
- A rough, tough novelist pulls himself back from the brink of death.
- How well do you know Gandalf from Dumbledore? I was thinking about that while re-reading the Harry Potter books recently, so naturally I had to steal this when Wendy McElroy posted it.
- The 2015 Human Freedom Index from Cato, the Frasier Institute, and three other think tanks around the world. Once again, the U.S. doesn’t crack the top 10.
- “I Made an Untraceable Ghost Gun” by Andy Greenberg via Wired. I missed this when it came out in June and Mr. And Mrs. Furrydoc just sent it my way. Fascinating and unbiased account from a mechanically uninclined experimenter.
- The euro won’t survive the next economic downturn.
- The drug war should go, but some efforts to legalize weed don’t seem a whole lot better. Ohio’s proposal would — how cozy! — put the core of the industry into the hands of a handful of wealthy backers, who have a monopoly conveniently built into the initiative and have already snapped up the only 10 grow sites allowed.
Yeah. I applied. For a job-job. You can blame furrydoc if I get it because she nudged me into this. It’s a job I’d actually love to have. I know the people. I’ve seen the work they do. It’s meaningful and varied and interesting.
Though it’s part-time, it has benefits up the whazoo. Benefits. When’s the last time I had benefits? Oh, such a long, long time ago.
While I was talking to the boss about what they’re looking for, another potential applicant came in. A woman I know. A woman they know, too.
“I’m desperate for this job,” she said. “Desperate.”
She lives in a lovely house on a hillside that was recently and extensively “done” by a short-term husband. I’m not sure what’s driven her to desperation, but I’ll bet her house doesn’t have broken foundation beams and a joke of a bathroom like mine does. Even if my house were falling into a sink-hole, though, and even if I were in dire financial straits for any reason, I don’t think I’d choose “I’m desperate” as a job-seeking strategy.
But who knows? Whatever works. This would be a terrific job to have. So I’ll choose “I’d be excited to work with you wonderful people, doing this wonderful thing you do. And I’ll be as big a help to you as I can be.”
You know, I could happily have gone the rest of my life without knowing the words “putrescine” and “cadaverine” even existed — let alone that they are among my dogs’ smell preferences.
This article focuses on why wet dogs stink. But if that doesn’t turn your stomach sufficiently you can use it to read up on cadaverine food preferences. Still holding down your breakfast? You can go on to the part about why they enjoy butt sniffing. I haven’t nerved myself up for that bit yet. (UPDATE: The butt video is actually pretty amusing and informative.)
And still … we love them. And we live with them in our homes, cars, and even our beds and manage not to die of gross dog-borne illnesses.
Sometimes it’s so nice just to be. We forget that. Well, I do, anyway.
This weekend was perhaps the nicest of the summer. We’ve been having glorious weather for the most part, but often way too hot. A few weeks ago, the southern Oregon coast sweated through several days of 100+ temperatures, and it got to at least 97 here. When it’s that hot it saps you, even when you’re huddled in the shady house with a ceiling fan spinning. I know you folks in the midwest and south have it worse; so no complaints, really.
But this weekend was everything a summer ought to be. Temperatures around 70. Cloudless afternoons after cool, maybe misty, mornings. A little breeze blowing. The kind of weather you don’t even have to think about because it’s precisely what weather ought to be.
In the mornings, I grabbed a pair of loppers, a squeeze-bottle of Off!, and a bucket and picked some lovely fat blackberries while the dogs hung out and ate their share.
At home, after ritual coffee, I trimmed the inside of the front door and started on the next 1/3 of the Infamous Ceiling. This section was originally going to be the fraternal twin of the bit I already did. When I realized how (pardon the pun) over my head I am, I figured it would be more like a half-sibling. Now I’m aiming for third cousin once removed. More drywall; less beadboard.
I do think that old beadboard would make better wainscotting than ceiling. Since finding the amazing Lost Vanity, my thoughts are turning to a nice wainscotted bathroom.
Today I started cleaning up Ye Olde Vanity. It’s coming back to life quickly and well. Some gouges I’ll never gracefully get rid of and one inlay piece is missing, which is beyond my ability to fix. But it’ll be close to its old self. That spare garage-sale sink I had out in the garden shed is going to fit it, of course. An hour of scrubbing the porcelain and scraping old caulk and that was like new.
An hour or two is all I’ve been doing. Just enough to resume steady progress while still doing other things and enjoying what’s left of summer.
No long, sweaty, achy, brain-hurting days of labor. No depression or anxiety* or self-doubt or anger. No being among the walking wounded. Just quietly getting things done, and even doing them reasonably (if far from professionally) well.
Yesterday I ended the day taking a long walk in the woods with furrydoc and her bounding lab mix — like Ava, 10-years-old but still unstoppable. Robbie trotted right along behind us. In June and early July I thought he was at death’s door. He’s rallied remarkably. But even with him doing a little better, we don’t usually walk so long these days, nor does he keep up as well as he did yesterday evening.
But then, he had his girlfriend to impress (he’s got a polite crush on furrydoc’s dog). He did a good job of it, too.
Days of contentment. They may not make for exciting, fiery blogging, but they sure make for good life.
* Well, there was some anxiety a few days ago when I woke up at 1:00 to Ava rambling randomly about — and shortly realized whe was distressed by a bat swooping around the living room and kitchen. I was eventually able to shoo it out the backdoor and never came in contact with it, but those were some not-happy moments. I know this is the season when juvenile bats, not yet fully possessed of their bat-sense, get into houses. But all the doors and windows were closed. So clearly I still have some structural gaps to fill.
- What to do the next time government gives you nutrition advice.
- This is some pretty darned despicable advice, too. But a great attitude if you want to live comfortably in a police state.
- “Daddy, did you save the razorback sucker?” (What you’re not going to hear an Obama daughter (allegedly) say.)
- “It’s time to build the private web.” Tone’s a bit statist. Concept is right on.
- John Mackey of Whole Foods on why intellectuals hate free markets.
- Windows 10 is spyware pure and simple — even when you think you’ve turned off some of its most intrusive features. Here’s another recommendation for Linux Mint that actually makes “going Linux” seem simple. (And that’s because, generally, it is when you choose Mint.)
- Here’s a amazing WWII dog story. And here’s the rest of her life’s tale.
- Snitches may get some well-deserved stitches. But you’re gonna love this snitch anyhow.
- Old-fashioned crimes committed high tech and low.
- Women taking tea breaks: subversive act. (H/T PT)
- Bovard on sugar subsidies.
- The real story isn’t that Facebook canceled a student’s internship when he built an app around one of their privacy vulnerabilities. The real story is how casually the herd beasts are now tracked.
- Funny this didn’t get more news coverage. (H/T MJR)
And for your amusement:
Klintonerdämmerung, aka behind the scenes at Chapaqua. (Tip o’ hat to BW)
And watch a pair of pups grow up. That one on the left really needs a carpet to run on.
A quick drive-by for an announcement. Two announcements, really.
Kurt Hofmann is no longer writing for JPFO. They now have no original writers or content for their alerts.
Kurt Hofmann has now taken over my “Enemy at the Gates” column for S.W.A.T. magazine and his first article should appear later this month.
If you want to conclude that these two happenings are related, feel free.
Kurt is a terrific, up-and-coming gun-rights writer whose military experience makes him perfectly suited to S.W.A.T.. He does great work with great conviction. (Here’s a recent sample.) Heck of a nice guy, too. So yay, Kurt! And yay, Rich and Denny for taking Kurt on and for putting up with me all these years.
- Panama was already better than many countries on guns. A smidge, anyhow. Now, in hopes of combating rising crime, they’re about to get better. Only a little better than the original smidge, but it’s something.
- Even the most worthless of petty bureaucrats now think they deserve to be treated and feted like Oriental pashas. Who are these people, anyhow?
- Once again, at least a few on the fringe are sending the message that they’ve had enough. (Tip o’ hat to jed)
- Yeah, now let’s see if the EPA and its employees get treated like a private corporation and its people would be. Criminal charges. Heads rolling. Monumental fines. Screaming public outcry with environmentalists leading the mob.
- The Atlantic does a provocative takedown of campus speech coddling. Doesn’t address freedom issues much, but focuses on how psychologically unhealthy this BS is.
- I was going to say that this is another tiny house I kinda like. Then I got to the part about a finished one costing $95,000. Ninety-five freakin’ thousand dollars? For a teeny little trailer thingie? Is somebody pulling our collective legs??? (H/T jed)
- A pair of beauties (and I really do mean beauties) via A.G. in comments. Jake Weidmann is one of only 12 master penmen in the world and the youngest by 30 years. Though I may be pretty good at finding stuff in garage sales and second-hand stores, this tops everything I’ve found in my whole life — both for art and for mystery.
- Kardashian overload. It happens to the best of us. Not usually on air, though. (H/T jb)
Now, I hope that keeps you happily busy for a while, ’cause unless Washington, DC, sinks into the ocean, aliens land, or I find the tub from Cabin Sweet Cabin lying at the roadside before Friday, I’m taking a couple of days off. Should be back with you by the weekend, if not before.