Category: The Voices in My Head

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Nopers. Not for Me.

Saw a posting for what is quite likely an otherwise worthwhile event, but even if I were to desire to attend, I could not, because I have a firm policy against exclusion of knives (and by extension ANY exclusion of items that can be used for self-defense, because such is an inherent right). And, guess what? The venue not only excludes ALL knives (no matter size, design, or purpose) but excludes a lot of other things that, well, only Koolaid drinkers would approve of.

Yeh, I don’t fly, either (and I’d have to to make the event. Or rather, I will not, because Thugs Standing Around are just Security Kabuki, laced with cover for Official Thievery. Sure, it limits some of my options, but not any that are really important.

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Olde Pharte Memories. . .

Darned near everything I see nowadays reminds me of vignettes of the past, oftentimes many different memories of things related to the current scene. Just a couple of minutes ago, someone mentioned Punnett Squares and reminded me that, though we covered their use in 7th Grade Science class, they were missing from my sophomore high school biology class. . . in a different state and district (as was a LOT of the human anatomy covered in an 8th Grade Science class in that other district).

Yeh, when we moved (9th Grade), the schools placed me in “average kids'” classes, in order to make absolutely sure I was bored out of my gourd.

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Neighborhood Watch

[N.B. Sorta-kinda-halfway tongue in cheek?]

Home Made Mortars?

No neighborhood watch should be without one. Or five.

(For when the Felonious Barony of Iniquity parks 1/4 mile away before launching yet ANOTHER illegitimate assault on a citizen’s inalienable rights? Maaaaaybe. . . 😉 )

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Get ‘er Done

Finally got around to cashing in a gift card (Thx, MF-n-Will!). A book (naturally), and pantry organization things – coupla my favorite things). My Wonder Woman had been carrying it around for more than half a year, but never could settle on something she wanted to spend it on for herself, so. . . Took me all of five minutes. Mr Efficiency.

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Not Sure If I Should “Yelp” This Weekend or Not. . .

Weekend and on into tomorrow, stayed (am still staying) at a once well-known resort in the Ozarks. Future stays here? A tossup, at best. *sigh*

Advertises stables and horseback riding o web site. Horses “on vacation.” (Markdown)
Confirmed reservation. Complied with check-in times. More than five hour wait for room. (Markdown)
Room: OK, special rate for conference (Markup) So-so accommodations and substandard details, REALLY noisy. Remote from all resort amenities, with one Post Polio person (they knew this) and LOTS of hills. (Markdown x 3)
Workers: pleasant and helpful (for the most part) (Markup) but institutionally hamstrung at times (Markdown)
Said the room was noisy? REALLY noisy “music” imposed on everyone in public areas making communication difficult and speech LOUD. (Markdown)
Super hokey décor mandated by new owners. (Markdown) Seems designed to appeal to low-brow, nekulturny rednecks (not the good kind of redneck; trust me on that. Markdown)

Still, it’s a conference for my Wonder Woman’s librarian association. Lots of fun folks, but the especially good thing is that I’ve gotten to spend more time with her than usual, even with her meetings and different lecture sessions.

Weekend as a whole: Mark WAY up even with the accommodation negatives. Would do it again (even at the overcharged, IMO – given the accommodation flaws – special rate), even if it were here. But NEXT time, there had better be horses!

Oh, I should add that while the bed was made by a prankster, the sheets themselves were almost as nice as on our bed at home. The pillows sucked, though.

Workers were uniformly as helpful as circumstances and resources allowed.

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Like Donuts?

Never go to the donut shop with the BEST donuts. You’ll be waiting for HOURS while the cops are on *cough* “coffee breaks” *cough*. (But when you are late to work, get behind a cop if you can, ‘cos he’s probably speeding to his donut break. NOTE: For several years, I followed a speeding HiPo supervisor to his morning kaffe klatch, so this tip really does work.)

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It Ain’t Fair, I Tell Ya!

N.B. It is fair to note that I have actually viewed very little of the entire “Friends” opus. I have only caught bits and pieces before changing channels to avoid vomiting. Yes, every single bit I have seen is just that disgustingly stupid.

I have sometimes dumped disapprobation (OK, that’s far too mild, but just go with it) on the Joey character from “Friends,” as being a prime influencer of the degradation of English usage in our society. While I think it’s fair to say that the popularity of “Friends” has had a huge negative impact on the generation that – largely – grew up sucking down its stupidity, lumping all the blame on Joey isn’t exactly fair, though he makes a good emblem for the show’s stupidity.

A generation raised on the language, ideas (such as they are), and thematic elements of “Friends” has emulated its stupidities well. Heck, they have become the dumbed down version of Ortega’s “mass-man,” and that’s damning.

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Layers and Layers of the Onion

Putting a tall fence around one’s house gives potential intruders a way to hide from third party observers, but it also gives you a way to hide your “capsaicin claymores” from potential intruders, so. . . Command or sensor detonation is the obvious decision tree. Switchable by remote?

Also working on a way to make a capsaicin fogger from my fog machine, and way to sensor trigger it (including safing it for yard use, & other controls). BTW, “capsaicin claymores”? #3 food can, CO2 cartridge, tripwire, Ghost Pepper powder, etc. When combined with things like Osage Orange as an ornamental face for a fence/wall, blinding strobes, etc., yeh, can have a tall fence/wall and be relatively safe from home intruders. Relatively. (A moat with gators would be nice, though.)

OTOH, Can live in a hardened bunker and not be safe from militarized law enFARCEment thugs.

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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.