I was very lucky in one feature of the old wreck of a house I bought back in ought-13. It has enormous, good-quality, double-pane windows, all installed within the last five or six years (PUD-subsidized specials, I’m sure; I’ve often had reason to believe those good windows are the only thing holding the entire structure together). And it has this one room whose sole purpose seems to be to enjoy those windows to the max.
It’s actually a dining room. It opens onto the kitchen and it had pantry shelves when I bought the place. But to me, it is a totally amazing sunroom. In this part of the country, having a sun room is a remarkable thing. We love sun! ‘Cause it’s so rare. Like diamonds, rubies, and honest politicians. So even if the temperature inside occasionally gets up to 90+ in the summer, I’m gloriously cheered because — Oh, look, for a change it’s TOO HOT!!! Isn’t that JUST AWESOME???
Does anybody else here still get JPFO alerts? Didja notice the one they sent out this evening? On the day of the week that, until two weeks ago, belonged to the highly principled, always incisive David Codrea?
Advocating having armed guards at every exit in theaters, supermarkets, malls, and other public spaces. (Yeah, and you wanna pay $30 for your movie tickets, do you? And ten bucks for your loaf of bread?)
Because, you know, security works so well in airports. (The author really said that. He did.)
And what would be the main purpose of these guards at every entrance and every exit to every public venue in the good old Land of the Free? To make sure no armed citizens can ever enter.
Bravo, JPFO! Such a firm statement of the individual right to keep and bear arms. Such an up-to-the-minute news “alert.” Such a hard-hitting, uncompromising think piece. No nerfing here, nosirree.
Given that he had a rare form of early onset Alzheimers, his death at 66 may have been a mercy. But damn. He was the best. The best since Mark Twain. Maybe (we could argue about this) better.
ADDED: It bugs me that the obits are calling Pratchett a “fantasy novelist.” That’s like calling Twain a “writer of adventure stories for boys.” Pratchett’s books, especially the Discworld series, are hilarious social and political satires that just happen to be set in a world populated by vampires, trolls, golems, witches, werewolves, one six-foot-tall dwarf, and let’s not forget that terribly scruffy talking dog, Gaspode.
I Won’t Take the Mark:
A Bible Book and Contract for Children
By Katherine Albrecht, Ed.D.
Illustrations by Julia Pearson
Patterns and borders by AlfredoM Graphic Arts Studio
Designed by Monica Thomas
2014, 40 pages, $22.50
I have been remiss. I received review copies of this book around Christmastime and intended to write it up at the first of the year. I was planning to pair reviews with Vin Suprynowicz’s The Testament of James — something for believers, something for curious skeptics, good books from very different points of view.
Then the comment section on Testament got so weird (with people more interested in pushing personal grievances than talking about Vin’s book) that I freaked out & backed off from anything religion-related.
So I hope The Albrechts will be okay with “better late than never.”
Alrighty, then. Rain has now grabbed me by the scruff and tossed me and my projects firmly back into the house. So here I am, at the computer, and will try to catch up on blogitude in the next few days.
Actually, “rain” came Monday night in the form of one of those fogs so heavy it drips. The fog melted some of the outside work I’d done. Cedar boards are textury. They hold wet paint a long time in their woody little crannies. Even though I’d painted many hour earlier while the day was still sunny … eeew. Oh well.
* For those who don’t know, this is how I say heartwarming. I’ve been exchanging movie reviews every month with BHM’s webmaster Oliver Del Signore for (yikes!) about 13 years now, and in that time I have so come to loathe movies that are billed as either “heartwarming” or “inspirational” that where film is concerned, I treat those two terms as cuss-words. Thus h-wording and i-wording. Still, even my ice-cold Grinchly heart can be warmed once in a while. :-)
I’ve been outside the last few days. In the sunshine. Sweating. Sweating. In March. The world has turned upside-down, but by golly you will not catch me complaining. (Still sorry, you east coasters. I know that your ghastly winter has been All Our Fault.)
Been painting skirting on the house (no more piece-o-crap black plastic sheeting nailed around the foundation; the neighbors should love me!) and putting on the belly band between the skirting and the upper house. I’m hardly alone. The neighborhood is roaring with lawn mowers and at the lumberyard I’m in line with every contractor and handyman I know, all busy, months ahead of schedule.
So I’m a little slow on posting, but I haven’t forgotten you! We’re gradually moving back toward rain and that’ll bring me indoors to the computer soon enough.
Meantime I did manage to post a little something over at The Zelman Partisans. Nothing earth shattering, but there it is.
Also found this great Kevin Williamson article about that Great American Slime Mold, the Clinton family. Or, as Williamson puts it, “the penicillin-resistant syphilis of American politics.” Hey, whatever else they are, the Clintons are entertaining.
Everyone knows there is plenty in this world to worry about. Even those who avoid the world and national “news” as much as possible can’t help but note the downward spiral in their own financial situation, especially if they or those they love are unemployed. There is the constant push to destroy God given rights to life and liberty, and increasing efforts to criminalize and control everything. Then there is the cost of everyday necessities, increasing due to the sinking national economy and shrinking dollar. A great many people are seriously worried about their health, and the increasing Obummercare insanity replacing free market medicine and insurance. And so much more. Did you know that stress, worry and fear, are far more detrimental to good health than you might think?
It’s almost impossible to know the truth about the “news” or, often, even what’s really happening in our own area. Even people who are present during disturbances and crises seldom have a grasp on the whole problem, much less the whole solution. And, unfortunately, this creates a sort of vacuum that we too often fill with our imagination, our prejudices and the ghosts of our past. All of which can and will be used by the unscrupulous to direct, or even precipitate the next crisis. Trust, but verify. Don’t expect to know or understand everything. Do you need to know? What could you do about it if you did? Good questions to ask yourself, I think.
No hero on a white horse is going to come along and save the day. Not this election, or any other. And expecting the politicians to limit their evil and restore our “rights” is as empty of promise as intergalactic space. Maybe more so. And hoping to do that by threatening not to re-elect them would be a hysterical joke if it wasn’t so painful to watch good people continue to believe in that insanity after all these years, after watching endless rubber room elections.
What can you do? You may not agree at first, but I think there is something we can do, and it has to start with each of us as individuals.
I wake up every day around two or three in the afternoon, make a cup of coffee and turn on the news, just waiting for the day when it finally happens, the day that something finally snaps, and I am listening to Sheppard Smith breathlessly trying to describe shaky video of a mob of 500,000 or 800,000 pissed off taxpayers that has invaded Washington and are lining every street in D.C., armed to the teeth, and erecting scaffolding on the National Mall.
Actually, that’s not how I think it is going to go, but I promise you… what can not go on, will NOT go on.
While I disagree with the “everything is a sickness” approach to problems, the article is otherwise spot on.
In one experiment, participants were left alone in a room for up to 15 minutes. When asked whether they liked the alone time, over half reported disliking it.
In subsequent studies, participants were given an electric shock, and then asked if they would pay money to avoid being shocked again. Not surprisingly, most said they would trade money to avoid pain. However, when these same people were left alone in a room for 15 minutes, nearly half chose to self-administer an electric shock rather than sit alone with their thoughts.
You read that right.
(Which is so not punny.)
Think about what this means. Just being is so painful that we are willing to hurt ourselves to avoid it.
And this is perhaps the saddest truth of all. I am created in the image and likeness of God, yet somehow that isn’t good enough for me. So I fill my Facebook feed and my calendar with self-important busyness to avoid just being. In the process, I not only miss out on the peace and beauty that lies within myself, but I also miss seeing that same beauty in others, because my manufactured urgency has covered it up with anxiety and worry.
Ever call your credit card company’s customer service line? They might have secretly voice fingerprinted you. If it’s such a great idea to prevent fraud, why aren’t they being upfront about it?
Seems all that shrill weirdness coming from the hoplophobe ranks recently isn’t just a side-effect of “gun control.” Even some of the most major distracting drivel is apparently directly planned and paid for by Bloomberg. This is sophisticated psychological warfare in the guise of unsophisticated jibberish.
Hm. I knew it existed but I never knew there was an “official” science governing it. This is even cooler than the “science” governing stoned bunnies — although come to think of it, this probably also applies to stoned bunnies. Not to mention wily coyotes.