"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."
After the last WP update I performed, which ended up locking me out of all admin functions, requiring some help from my hosting service (an install of an update beyond the one I had done, because not even FTP was working for me), getting a notice of another WP update available was. . . momentarily disconcerting, especially since my site’s still not 100% functional. Yet.
Still, performed a complete backup of the site and then bit the bullet.
OK, things seem to have worked.
*phew*
(*heh*)
Unlike Q/A fora that focus on one topic or are strictly information-seeking-and-sharing boards, Quora features just about any question anyone can come up with, which means it’s a site that has just about everything from serious questioners with folks making serious attempts to answer such questions to trolls baiting others and then “flinging monkey poo” at anyone who attempts a serious answer, to those like the dumbass who asked the following question:
“What’s one song that always gives you the feels?”
Anyone who uses the term “the feels” deserves no response other than raucous mocking. It’s a vague, stupid nonsense term that only self-made idiots would even contemplate (if contemplate they could) using. The Urban Dictionary (though that should be in “scare quotes” *heh*) tries to describe the term thusly:
“A word used to describe something that is intensely emotional on a level somewhere between you feeling empty and you on the floor in a ball weeping uncontrollably.”
In other words, it’s a term so broad and vague as to be meaningless, and yet this questioner wants to know,
“”What’s one song that always evokes vague, undefined, essentially meaningless emotions in you ranging from ennui to agony?”
#gagamaggot
OTOH, the stupidity of gargantuan proportions the question represents nevertheless did not prevent my mind from fleeing to a momentary wish that I could somehow know the tune Kipling had running through his head as he composed “The Last Chantey.”
I know, I know. . . it’s just me, but I had to mute the GHWB funeral when the truly awful choral music came on1. I mean, seriously, what director–fully knowing the choir will be performing in a setting that’s really not acoustically well suited to choral music–does not stress again and again that exceptionally clear, even exaggerated enunciation of the lyrics is a MUST? *sigh* Unmuted, and the serial eulogies weren’t all THAt bad, and scriptures, although poorly-read, were appropriate.
What was a wee tad amusing was the sprinkling of pretentious “Mid-Atlantic” pronunciations that a couple of speakers dropped willy-nilly into their Mid-American accents.
Apart from that, it was a good celebration of an American hero, so-so president2, and seemingly nice guy.
R.I.P., GHWB.
1Alan Simpson’s rendition of “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” was better.
2Coulda done a much better job as president, IMO, but I was at least satisfied with his character (and profoundly dissatisfied with the character of those running against him).
While not an exhaustive list, these characteristics are generally considered typical of totalitarian rule:
• Rule by a single party
• Total control of the military (sometimes meaning control of the party by a military junta)
• Total control over means of communication (such as newspapers, propaganda, etc. . .)
• Police intimidation and control of subjects with even the use of terrorism as a control tactic common
• Control of the economy
Given these characteristics, it is easy to see why Mussolini’s Fascism (socialist1) and Hitler’s Nazism (also socialist2) are usually (and rightly, IMO) put forth as examples of totalitarian states, but almost any absolute monarchy and every historical example of communist and socialist states qualify as well.
“Ah!” but some say, “What about European socialist states like Norway, Sweden, The Netherlands, et al?” Yeh, no. Socialist states all exercise either de facto or de jure control of the economy, and none of those do. They depend upon government-muzzled and milked capitalism for the implementation of some socialist policies (bread and circuses), but lack the defining qualities of socialism that Ludwig von Mises correctly identified and applied to both Mussolini’s Fascism and Hitler’s Nazism in his trenchant analysis of both. Those who try to hand wave away the essentially totalitarian nature of socialism are either ignorant or disingenuous.
Socialist states are simply a sub-class of totalitarian states, just as Nazism and Fascism are sub-classes of socialist states. Proponents of socialism do not like these simple facts, and so lie about them at every opportunity.
Do note that I only pointed to a TownHall article offering “proof” that Mussolini’s Fascism was socialist, and the article offers weak proof but refers to Human Action (NOTE: pdf file), by von Mises, where in chapter XXV, et al. von Mises identifies all that’s needed to make the connection solid. *shrugs* The book’s a decent read, anyway, and well worth one’s time, IMO.
Saw a comment that was only moderately “gabberflastering” on a forum that shall go unnamed. Guy said he had to write in thew sharps and flats that were in the key sig to remind himself when he played through a piece.
Say what?!?
Whenever I taught music or directed volunteer music groups, I generally taught beginning music readers to use the “STARS” system or a variant that is even simpler, for those in volunteer choirs whose music reading chops were. . . only slowly emerging:
S – Sharps or flats in the key signature
T – Time signature and Tempo markings
A – Accidentals not found in the key signature
R – Rhythms ; silently count the more difficult notes and rests
S – Signs , including dynamics, articulations, repeats and endings
Every class session or rehearsal included using something likethe “STARS” system before reading every new piece. *shrugs* Regular exercise of “reading” through a new piece (or reviewing one not seen in a while) really aided in sight reading. Of course, “STARS” is just an extremely simplified version of score study any competent conductor does, but it seemed to be enough to alleviate the “write in the sharps/flats for reminder” issue. . . especially since each freakin’ line in a score begins with the key sig. . .
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.
. . .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. . .
. . .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*
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.
🙂
I find my lips moving anyway.
Not to in any way belittle the suffering in SoCal, but the fires are almost as if California, the land, is saying, “Get off my lawn!”