"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."
Whenever I see “based on a true story” hitched to any sort of media presentation, I understand that the “based” part simply means, “Something happened. One or more elements of what happened may appear in the following presentation. . . or may not.”
Of course, this makes such media presentations “truer” than a typical “news” story, so there’s that. . .
Olde Pharte tomcat crawled up in my lap, complaining about [whatever]. Said to him, “OK, I’ll comfort you in your dottage.” He responded with an archtypical “Olde Pharte” *grumph*
Pleased. Finally worked my head through the right combo of tools to remove the locking wheel bolts on my Wonder Woman’s Jetta (bought used, no key for the locking wheel bolts). Have one off and replaced with a normal wheel bolt, and the process well-defined, now. It was a wee tad more irritating, because these locking wheel bolts are “spinners,” needing the “spinner ring” removed before dealing with the actual bolt. Now, I just have to get the “spinner” out of the socket I used to remove it. *heh*
Hmmm, perhaps I should rethink my method of removing the “spinner” for the other three wheels. . . I’ll give that some thought before I do the next one.
About that failed TV. . .
All diagnostics suggested by the company support said dead power supply or similar. Did everything by the book. No power on.
“Tech” call today with replacement TV.
“What’s it doing?”
“Well, I’ll show you.” *reaches to the TV’s power button and presses*
TV powers on.
Dafuq?!? Earlier TODAY, it did not power on.
“Tech”: *does not unbox new TV. Does not test anything* “It could be the UPS you have it plugged into.”
*sigh* “No, because I tested it plugged directly into the wall, as well as switching outlets [etc.].” (Oh, and the other two things plugged into the UPS both work, and have shown no interruption in service. Only two things*–neither the TV–is plugged into battery backup.
Me: *signs docs attesting to TV’s current functionality; hopes not calling again in a week*
Still, unless I open things up and test things myself, this will just have to be a mystery. and I have no desire to void the warranty.
Oh, well.
*On battery backup: a NAS and gigabit switch. Switch is, of course, for the NAS. . . and the TV, since I have not/will not enable the WiFi on the TV.
It seems some folks are unclear on the differences between capitalism and the big business-government crony system we currently have. The two could not be farther apart. When there is corrupt behavior in a capitalist system, competition and civil courts can deal with that. The corruptocratic institutional system we now have has as its purpose the filling of politicians’ pockets and “bureaucraps'” rice bowls. From the consumer’s POV, it’s the worst of both capitalism unrestrained by market forces and the typical socialist model: politicians and their cronies are massively favored, enriched, and protected.
Of course, the 19th Century system that evolved into our current regulatory state was almost as corrupt. The monopolies and cartels “feddle gummint” regulations against monopolies and cartels were designed to deal with were either created or enabled by government intervention in the market. A good example of the regulatory state: create or exacerbate a problem in order to expand the scope of government, allowing perpetuation of the problem at a rate regulated only by the amount of graft.
And so it goes. Meanwhile, the sheeple never wise up, looking to the creators of the problems to solve them, against those creators’ perceived best interests. Suckers.
FarceBook is. . . interesting, but primarily in the “that’s an interesting train wreck” way. I find myself drawn back to watch and even react to the various inanities, stupidities, and rare–more and more extremely rare–status updates that have any usefulness (apart from just observing “The Weird”). Heck, I’m not even all that interested in my “family” FarceBook account, since the only family I’m really interested in staying up with are my wife, kids and Mother, and I have face-to-face (or in Mother’s case, phone-to-phone) contacts for that.
But. . . “The Weird” draws me back.
And then it repulses me again.
The Stupid is also very powerful on FarceBook, and its practitioners are immune to mocking (Dunning-Kruger and a “safe places” mentality). Besides, mocking self-made morons–not born that way; self-enstupiated–isn’t really good for me in the long run. It feels soooooo good, but is sooooo wrong. . . or is it? Is NOT mocking self-made morons, just ignoring their obstinate stupidities, just enabling their destructive behavior?
I dunno, and more and more I care less and less about them.
But they are fascinating. Ah! I think I have it now! FarceBook is a 21st Century freak show! Small doses may be interesting, even amusing, but a steady diet of fake interactions with family, stupid “posts” and comments by self-made morons, so-called “memes,” and suchlike is just not productive.
Methinks a weekly check-in to see how things are going in the nuthouse might be OK, but a steady diet of the Freak Show would rot my brain.
Looks like someone is trying to hold a “Baptist healing service”. . .
One of the most amusing things I’ve seen recently in a product description was for a $300 buffalo-hide “fleece-lined duffle bag.” Supposedly, “New Zealand lambs’ fleece lining will help keep breakables safe when traveling.” Yeh, pull the other one. One would need an adamantium case lined with several inches of viscoelastic foam to even come close to keeping breakables safe from baggage handlers, let alone TSA goons.
Sadly, even the naive cheesiness of most 80s TV shows is revealed today as simple “dumbitudinousness.”
McGyvver’s ingenious “inventions” are just as unworkable and stupid today as they were then. For me, McGyver was always moderately enjoyable as an exercise of my “suspension of disbelief muscle.” Things really, really do NOT work “that” way (whatever way most of his improvisational devices were supposed to work). . . *heh*
Star Trek TNG is still as dumb as it was then, though it lacks even the appeal of any serious cheesiness.
Etc.
The one 80s show that holds up even today is The Greatest American Hero. It’s just as dumb and cheesy today as it was then. Culp at least gave it a wee bit of (cheesy, of course) campiness. Oh, and it did have the picturesque (though lackluster acting of) Connie Selleca. There’s that. G-rated pinup girl for The Greatest American Hero.
But. . . there’s not much else that I find appealing about 80s shows today. In that, they share my evaluation of almost all contemporary TV shows: Stupid, without even the appeal of mockable cheesiness.
Too bad the Rockford Files stopped in 1980. If it had not, I’d have an 80s show to watch for something other than mockable stupidity or cheesiness.
Maybe I should only watch movies on our TV. Oh, wait. Stupid movies, too.
Oh, well. Perhaps I’m not meant to own a TV? No, wait. There are still good movies to watch, just not many made nowadays. Some Bruce Campbell “B” (or “C”) movies for camp. Archived copies of “Matilda,” “Johnny English,” etc. IOW, real classics. *heh*
Feeling a wee bit ambivalent. Disconcerted but thankful. Ins paid a larger percentage of ER bill for my Wonder Woman’s broken arm) than it promised to pay (on policy). How often does that happen?
(*scratches head and says to self* Don’t rock the boat, bubba.)
I have fun reading book blurbs of books I’ll never read. Take a recent blurb about a “cozy paranormal mystery” featuring two young women, “One a baker, the other a mortician’s assistant, and both blessed (or cursed) with the gift of talking to the dead. . . ”
OK, even leaving aside the stupidity of the supposed “gift/curse,” methinks the blurb writer should go back to Remedial Blurb Writing 101. ANYONE can talk TO the dead, or pretend to (or delude themselves into thinking they are). I’d not expect any real two way conversations, but imagining one is talking TO dead people is something many folks do. Not me, but others seem to do so.
But, if I were dead and just hanging around (although I rank that as happening somewhere around the Twelfth of Never), I wouldn’t stand for being talked to by some flesh puppet. Nope. Wanna talk to me? Buh-bye!
More seriously, what’s the appeal of necromancy, eh? I mean, #gagamaggot.