Author: David

Over-educated Curmudgeon, Bit-Bucket Tuner and Budding Brewmeister.
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I Blame Keto

An old box of my dad’s WWII memorabilia came my way, recently. One of the real keepers was his uniform web belt. The brass was in need of serious TLC, but the webbing was in great shape. Strangely, unlike his Boy Scout uniform belt, I can actually wear this one. Surprise: my waistline is a close approximation of my dad’s when he was in the best condition of his life. Oh, I’m not in a similar conditioning, but shape? Close. I’m a bit taller than he was (and still a wee bit “puffier” *heh*), but in the ballpark.

Interesting.

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Silly, Sad, or Disingenuous?

I have a dirty little pleasure. I lurk (and sometimes–rarely–participate) on Quora, mainly in order to keep track of just how low literacy and rhetoric can sink (is sinking, still) in these DisUnited States. Here:

In the wake of another mass shooting, do you support the NRA who is saying “anti gun doctors should stay in their lane,”or are you with the doctors who treat the victims?

Answering such a question is a waste of time, because the question is illegitimate on its face.

“. . .do you support the NRA who is saying ‘anti gun doctors should stay in their lane,’ or are you with the doctors who treat the victims?”

The questioner creates a class “anti-gun doctors” and sets the NRA against that class, but also, by asking if one—contra the NRA, in the questioner’s construction—is “with” (in support of) doctors who treat the victims, creating an equivalence between “anti-gun doctors” and “the doctors who treat the victims” implying that doctors who are NOT “anti-gun” don’t treat victims. . . or worse, implying there are not doctors who are not “anti-gun.”

All-in-all, it’s a question that was either formed poorly by someone who just cannot use English literately or it was formed by someone intending to semantically slant the question in an illegitimate manner. Either way, it’s a less than useful question from an arguably useless questioner.

But, frankly, on some issues, a question formed like this one would be better than most.

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Why Even Have a Constitution?

Yeh, random thought? No, Hollyweird program featuring “feddle gummint” law enFARCEment at its. . . contemporary norm spurred this.

“The powers of the Legislature are defined and limited; and that those limits may not be mistaken or forgotten, the Constitution is written. To what purpose are powers limited, and to what purpose is that limitation committed to writing, if these limits may at any time be passed by those intended to be restrained? The distinction between a government with limited and unlimited powers is abolished if those limits do not confine the persons on whom they are imposed, and if acts prohibited and acts allowed are of equal obligation.”

The US Constitution was intended and designed to circumscribe, restrain, LIMIT federal powers, to first prevent it from infringing on individuals’ rights while enabling it to have just enough power to protect individuals from those who would infringe on those rights, but only in areas where the states did not already have that responsibility.

Now, “feddle gummint” powers have been so illegitimately stretched, the Constitution seems to largely be a dead letter, trotted out to be disingenuously twisted into support for whatever “feddle gummint” overstep is the latest power grab, and “stare decisis” means whatever is convenient.

*shrugs*

What to do. You tell me.

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Why? It Does Not Matter. . .

. . .why it crosses the road.

On one of our trips to OK for family stuff, we had a quick refresher on what “rural OK town” means. During passage through town, which entailed negotiating a couple of (completely unnecessary, as far as I could tell) traffic lights, traffic (such as it was–our car and another) came to a halt as a chicken made its lackadaisically wandering way across main street in the lil county seat town. No hurries. Apparently traffic (such as it may be) ALWAYS comes to a complete stop whenever the chicken crosses the road. . .

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No Names (In Order to “Shield” the Guilty)

. . .but either someone(s?) in the turnpike authority of a certain state (again, no names, but the relevant initials are O-K-L-A-H-O-M-A) has a macabre sense of humor, or the turnpike authority needs a literate adult on staff, because signs in construction zones read:

“Don’t hit our workers
Pay $10,000 fine”

I tell ya, I don’t have the $10,000 to spare. I started thinking I should look for a worker to hit so I could avoid the fine. . . *heh*

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“Teach Your Children Well. . . “

Lovely Daughter commented today after Mother’s funeral, graveside service, and the funeral dinner at the church (at which neither she not I found anything to eat, though there was some palatable–just!–coffee) regarding my (successful!) efforts when she was a small girl (a talkative three year old? About that) to teach her to say to my mom, “Grandma, please take me to Chik-Fil-A.”

So, in honor of her grandmother, she had her lunch at. . . Chik-Fil-A.

🙂

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No Panic, Just *sigh*

I had a few “*sigh*” moments earlier today. Some early AM car “dwama” with my Wonder Woman’s car, ended up taking her to work & coming back to run errands/prep for tomorrow’s “funeral procession” (couple of hundred miles one way. . . and back), and. . . Pixel, our lil rescue kitty who’d gotten out almost a year ago during a week of the lowest temps in a year, was nowhere to be found. She usually responds to her name, and if not that to “cooing” in the manner she “coos” (yeh, like a dove, really). And where did she show up? Nowhere, mon frere. *sigh*

Now, take note that she has a coat that is effective camouflage against MANY backgrounds (think desert digicam but done really, really well. *heh*), so when I finally saw her, I realized I had looked there earlier and seen her w/o realizing it. Behind a chair, under a table, laying on a heating vent. She still doesn’t want to move from there.

*heh* At least she’s not out in the cold again.

Speaking of which–the cold that is–it was a wee tad nippy this AM here at TWC Central. Car reported 16°F in our driveway, but at about 14′ elevation (up the lil hill leading out of our neighborhood), it reported 18°F, prompting my Wonder Woman to say, “Looks like we’re headed the right direction.” Except. By the time we got to the bottoms ~3/4 mile away, the car reported 14°F. . . and moved down from there as we climbed the long hill to the interstate.

But, never fear! By the time we got to the “Greater Wally World Metro Area” where her MTW school is located (pop 295 when the area recently annexed by a wee village in order to have the county’s WallyWorld included in its borders. Closer to 100 for the village proper), the reported temp was all the way up to 18°F again! Downtown “Greater Wally World Metro Area” was on fire, man!

Mid-morning, temps are a toasty 39°F here at TWC Central, now. Nice. Thank heavens for Globull Warmening.

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The Proper Use of a “Splainsit Stick”

Any time I see “[Whatever]-splaining” used by someone to dismiss an argument, I know the person using the term is really saying, “I don’t have an argument, and I just don’t want to listen, so I’ll use this nonsense term instead of putting my fingers in my ears and chanting, ‘la-la-la-la. . .’ and maybe the horrible person using facts and reason will just go away and leave me with my chosen, ignorant opinions.”

At that point, I realize that the only proper response is raucous mocking.

And that, dear reader, is how one uses a “Splainsit Stick.”