I’m told that the reason phishing “attacks” work is that the phishing email/phone call seems to come from a “trusted source” like a CC company, insurance company (that one does business with), or government office/agency. Really? I mean seriously, to begin with, who trusts ANY of those sources, even when they are determined to be genuine? That alone, quite apart from all the other reasons to hang up/report SPAM, report to authorities, etc., anyone who trusts ANY call/email contact, formulated as a typical phishing contact or not, without AT LEAST verifying the source simply deserves to get what they have comin’ to ’em. *smh*
Culture Tip
“Ducktail beard.” How a subliterate grup who is also culturally illiterate regarding anything more than 15 minutes old describes a particularly poorly-trimmed Van Dyke.
Just one of those “never-to-be realized” passing fancies. . .
In addition to drinking from the skulls of one’s enemies and listening to the lamentations of their women (Paul need not fear Nancy lamenting his hammerfest, of course), a nifty “bomber jacket” made of their skin would be quite the fashion statement, eh?
(The above, of course, is just a thought experiment to pass off to a Hollywood Writer Guy acquaintance whose career has majored in the bizarre. Hey! If he bites and can sell the idea as part of a project, maybe I can get a bit part. As the jacket.)
Book Blurb Sadness
It’s a bit. . . weird, or weirdly sad (or sadly weird?) I suppose is the word, when a book blub has to include “Note: This book does not contain any coarse language, harem elements or sexual situations.” *smh*
Of the three, at least two serve no useful purpose, unless, I suppose, prurience is the end sought. OTOH, “coarse language” does have legitimate, though limited, uses, but it’s almost never _necessary_ to further a plot or “enrich” a characterization – more effective, IMO, to “coarsen” a character via action. But. . . yeh, verbiage is easier. *shrugs*
Of course, the definition of “coarse language” varies from the merely (usefully and appropriately!) vulgar, which is primarily objectionable to subliterate Neo-Victorian Bowlderiizing “Karens,” to the obscene and even actually profane. So, “coarse language” is a particularly squishy term, and not really useful at all, at all. It’s just a way of saying, “I avoid words that offend some people,” and that road leads to blank pages.
Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose, and all that.
Oh, happy-happy-joy-joy. I get to set the live trap for my Wonder Woman’s cat. . . again.
*sigh*
*Update*
Live trap + water and her fav food worked perfectly. THIS time, she didn’t have to contend with an opossum for her food and she’s back, now. Walked around crying for attention for a while, and is finally cuddled up next to my Wonder Woman (‘cos she’s too fat for a lap *heh*).
Unreasonable Standards
Disclaimer: I am no genius, and nor am I someone with an encyclopedic knowledge of darned near everything, but. . . I am an Odd, and my education is even Odd-er.
That may not explain to my readers why, when I read something written by a typical 20-something or older “grup” writer, I often just shake my head and compare their vocabulary, spelling, grammar, and knowledge base to an eleven or twelve-year-old. . . me.
Yeh, when I read a writer who has groped blindly for a suitable word and instead grasped an execrably UNsuitable word to use, I compare that writer’s vocabulary to my sixth grade self, partly because, while recovering from a second surgery, I discovered a set of vocabulary quizzes in a two-volume dictionary set (each volume at least four inches thick in large, oversized formats). Yes, I went through the college-level vocabulary test, NOT because I was “smarter” than the average sixth grader, just because I had read more, even before becoming temporarily restricted physically, but VORACIOUSLY more so during that restricted period.
And that, combined with my fundamentally Odd way of looking at reality, probably defined as much of the next sixty years of my life, as much as simply being an Odd has in general. And so, people with a Stupid Level Vocabulary™ (and often even stupider level grasp of syntax, orthography, and basic arithmetic, physical mechanics, and life in general) probably tend to irk me more than is useful.
Memory’s a Funny Thing
In addition to my tinnitus chorusing along with earworms, sometimes those earworms just seem to pop up out of nowhere, or some “Fibber McGee’s Closet” of memories. . .
One occasional source of memories insinuating themselves as earworms is children’s songs learned in early-mid childhood. I recall 4th Grade music class (what, maybe once or twice a week?) which was held in the school library for some reason. The music book was a faded red cloth-covered book, and when one of the songs from that class crops up, I see the page the song was on, the music, and the lyrics, even, from time to time, illustrations accompanying the song. *shrugs* Visual memory always seems to work better for me when it’s associated with music, especially sheet music, etc.
Just one of those things.
Comparatively Speaking. . .
Glitter is often so horribly misused that, at times, it seems to have been spawned from hell, but any reasonable person would prefer a “whoop” of preschoolers tweaked on a sugar high and given unlimited bags of glitter at a funeral to a drag queen show in kindergarten.
That’s all I’m sayin’ about that.
Words Do Matter
Just saw a lil pseudo- (fake, phony) “meme” that did contain a wee bit of truth, but the first word — “hay” used in place of “hey” — vitiated (weakened, darned near KILLED) the rest if it. OTOH, maybe it was trying to say that even pinheaded, Dunning-Krugerand illiterates can stumble across a bit of truth now and then. Blind pigs and all that, you know?
No oven, no stove, just. . .
Reason # 4,967 why I love cooking meals in my pressure air fryer: 1. Sauteed a seasoned roast. 2. Pressure cooked it. 3. Added veggies and slow-cooked it all for a MUCH shorter time than I’d ordinarily need to to have the meat just fall apart the way I wanted (this time — other times? *shrugs* depends on my whimsy).