"In a democracy (‘rule by mob’), those who refuse to learn from history will be the majority and will dictate that everyone else suffer for their ignorance."
Third World County™-style.
Yeh, I did see a pig sauntering down the street through a collection of small apartments, and I am now listening to a Spring calf bawl just over the way, in a neighbor’s yard. Amd their rooster makes for a pleasant dawn wakeup call.
Here. In town. Maybe the “city” will let me raise goats to mow my lawn. . .
. . . “not a wit” is. . . witless. “Not a whit” = “not a bit; not an iota; not the smallest part,” etc. “Not a wit” simply indicates someone without wit, a dullard, a dummy, a subliterate “Dunning-Krugerand” wannabe self-pub writer. *heh*
A few guys named “Harry” whose names would better have been spelled “Hairy.”
That is all.
Just sayin’.
Dinner this evening: light and multi-culti. Cheesy bean and ancho chile tapas with. . . coleslaw. *heh*
Yeh, he wasn’t. Frugal, that is. But by adapting his recipes and using genuinely frugal ingredients and techniques, I found that I was able to make some nutritious and delicious meals inexpensively.
“shrugs* I’m sure he was “frugal” by a definition of the word that was held by folks who, nowadays, would waste $$ on crap coffee from “Starclucks,” but that ain’t frugal.
As I observe the passing scene, I try, I really do try, to take the Apostle Paul’s counsel to heart, but it ain’t easy, ya know?
Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.
No, that is not a rain cloud you see hovering over my head. It’s smoke from me constantly burning the lies from politicians, Mass MEdia Hivemind Podpeople, Academia Nut Fruitcakes, and other assorted Children of the Lie.
CwaZy (pervy, racist) UnKa JoE, ZOMBIE POOPY-PANTS President in Name Only and his imaginary friends. . .
Girls are born with an “innie.” Boys are born with an “outie.” Anyone who tries to tell kids this isn’t the determiner, just answer, “OK, Groomer,” and put them in your rear view mirror.