Yeah, I know this actually came out last spring. But in this iteration of the news they keep using the word “startling.” Somebody is actually startled by this???
It’s rather like being startled by the sun rising in the east. A chancre turning out to be syphilitic. Or a politician lying. Still the study (early draft here) could be worth sharing with your “vote-to-make-a-difference” friends. Full study due out this fall, so we’re not months behind the news here; we’re months ahead of the next round of shock! Dismay! And we must DO SOMETHING about this!
I am (really) still cogitating on the topic I started the other day on defining ourselves. Comments (particularly from Ellendra and Paul Bonneau) have got my brain headed off in a different direction and I’ll simply have to wait and see if I can chase after it and catch it long enough to get something coherent down on pixels.
Meantime, here are some links, some related to that topic (though not always in an obvious way), some not at all.
The end of neighbors. Or, this being a Canadian article, “The End of Neighbours.” The loss of neighborliness is a) not very good for us and b) exactly what we want.
Portrait of Tom Palmer — the unlikely man who challenged D.C.’s gun laws and won. In case you missed it, Kurt Hofmann also had a good take on Palmer last week at JPFO.
Wired (specifically the great James Bamford) interviews Snowden on (among other things) why he became a whistleblower.
While researching for part II of “Defining Ourselves,” I went down this pathway and found the amazing variety of people and organizations who helped Jews during the Holocaust, and the equally amazing variey of ways they did it.
On the topic of genocide … old colleague R. sent a link to this beautiful song about aftermath and rage. Patty Griffin: Cold as it Gets. Lyrics here.
Bob Owens takes apart “smart guns.” Not that you’ll be surprised by any of the info. But being Bob Owens, he says it thoroughly and well.
After a day of record-setting heat and several weeks of that unfamiliar element, sunshine, today dawned gray. The sky is a solid, featureless mass. For hours, thunder has rumbled near-constantly off in the distance.
No lightning visible. No dramatic boomers. Just a perpetual drumroll, first from the southwest, then from the northeast. Ceaseless.
Its full day outside but the house lights are on, pallid, greenish, and barely seeming to illuminate anything. No mere human-generated watts and volts can penetrate the preternatural gloom.
On goes the perpetual rolling of the sky, moving closer now. I get an inkling of why primitive people conceived of gods — and feared them.
A time or two I’ve heard about somebody’s suicide and secretly thought they did the right thing, saving themselves or their families years of living hell. Other times, suicide has seemed like a rational, or at least a reasonable, choice after a life well-lived but now winding down.
But Robin Williams? Robin Williams??? Of course he had demons. He laid them out before the world. But he also had such energy, empathy, manic joy, delight in a world whose every sound and action seemed to pass through him as if he were a human translator of all things wacky and strange. Robin Williams killing himself?
Oh panic! Oh hysteria! Oh, Fox how could such an idiotic article have made it past your BS filters? Somebody, somewhere, sometime might carry a gun into a bank. Which would be deadly! Catastrophic! And cause firefights to mow down innocents! (Never mind that we don’t have a single fact to back our “expert” assertions.) Oh, the horror. Quick! Bring me my smelling salts! (Tip o’ hat to LA)
Okay, I know you’re busy giving all your spare cash to ME. And of course that’s as it should be ;-). JKJKJK. But pal Nicki has a fundraiser going for her local animal rescue. You might want to take a look. It started as a “save my cat” plea, but when the beloved kitty didn’t make it, she started directing the contributions to charity.
Speaking of Nicki, she’s done an aaaaaa-freakin’-mazing job with JPFO social media. But I don’t know how she stands to engage up close and personal with those chronic hoplophobics.
I’ll be back with more later on yesterday’s “defining ourselves” post. Apologies for the abrupt and wandering conclusion. I was blogging after my usual bedtime last night and suddenly realized my brain wasn’t keeping up with my keyboarding fingers.
Friend of mine went to his high school reunion this summer. In school he was the uber-geek, the undisputed smartest kid in his class — which you can imagine didn’t sit well with some. Even now you can tell he learned his social graces by dint of hard work, and he’d rather eat worms than suffer fools.
But he’s gone on to be a successful international businessman and he wanted to see how his old friends are faring. He had some good times at the reunion, but was startled — and hurt — that a lot of people treated him just as they had when they were all raw kids. Same jokes. Same attitudes. Same view of him even though he’d changed enormously and led a fascinating life.
Well, maybe that’s just reunions. Some go to see how everyone has grown. Others haven’t grown at all and just want to relive their glory days — glory days in which they felt safely superior to smart but awkward geeks like my friend.
Maybe high schools are just dysfunctional families writ large.
Salt Lake City police investigate themselves for the slaughter of a dog in its own backyard … and guess what they find?
But enough bad news about dogs. Here are a pair of good things. An IKEA store puts life-size cutouts of shelter dogs to show customers how well those needy dogs would go with their new IKEA furniture. And just for laughs: Sofa Dogs!
I just came home from morning errands to find my street blocked by serious PUD equipment. Seems they’re doing major electrical work that they neglected to tell anybody about.
I have now apparently been “officially” notified that my power will be out most of the day today. Thank heaven I have no deadlines. But I had hoped to catch up on email. I’m seriously overdue with a few people. Sorry, guys; you’ve waited this long and now you’ll have to wait a few hours longer. (And no, I haven’t gotten that generator yet and it’s still going to be a while.)
I’ll take this opportunity to shingle a wall. See ya’ll later.
And thanks for the BIG boost to the roof-raiser today. Much appreciated!
It’s a mystery why one person can be poor but still be proud, independent, and reasonably content while the guy next door is only content to slide into a swamp of misery, blame, slovenliness, dependence, and cigarette smoke.
I agree that Alchemist summed things up pretty well by observing, “Poor is a state of finance. Poverty is a state of mind.”