"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."
“The ethical man knows it is not right to cheat on his wife; the moral man will not.”~Ducky Mallard
Parenthetically, I’d say remaining faithful to one’s wife is easier when one loves her and is convinced God has definitely joined one with one’s wife. Nearly four decades with my Wonder Woman has deepened my understanding of her beauty and irreplaceability.
Nah, this isn’t some think piece with the “directionally challenged”/”directionally gifted” as metaphors for anything. This is just about NSEW orienteering. 🙂
“Not getting lost” in America’s Third World County™ is more fun than not getting lost in Boston or Dallas or wherever. For the first ten years after we moved to America’s Third World County™,navigating the back roads was. . . interesting. No names apart from informal names that could (and did) change according to family or neighborhood tradition, or simply an individual’s idiosyncratic choice. The road “system” also reflects the fact that this is a geographically rugged area (Ozarks, and all the hills, valleys, streams, creeks and rivers that implies) that was settled (more or less) before the idea of section lines really took hold, so, while other rural areas in other parts of the country might give directions by section line, etc., not so here. NSEW and geographical features were the primary means of providing directions to places within the county that fell off the map of state roads.
The official county map was not a lot of help, either. Many roads didn’t even appear on the map of county-maintained roads and the roads that did had designations not acknowledged by those who lived on them. Rural postal routes were more useful as directions than the official county designations. Made my “hobby” of driving the back roads more fun.
Then, when the county began instituting a 911 system, roads started getting names (including the street in town that we had lived on for 10 years with no address), names that usually reflected longstanding tradition. Now, Gobbler’s Knob, Granny’s Branch and Pine Log Road (which Internet mapping services still often get laughably wrong, despite more than a decade having passed since it was formally named) are all easily found on a 911 map, though I know lifelong residents who have NO idea where they are located. Not their neighborhoods.
I’d like the gig of being The County Guide. *sigh* 😉
November 24 marks a special celebration of my marriage to my Wonder Woman, since it’s the anniversary of the day we formally wed. (I mark our marriage’s start with the day she called me to let me know her answer to my *cough* “suggestion” *cough* that we marry — yeh, lame, but we both saw the humor in it 😉 ).
Whether it mark’s thirty-seven years since we said our vows in front of witnesses or well into our thirty-eighth year since we first pledged ourselves to each other before God alone (a day also celebrated specially), this day is a reminder of how greatly I am blessed. . . and how loving, patient, kind and forbearing my Wonder Woman is. 🙂
Lovely Daughter and Estimable Son-in-Law have us puppy and cat sitting this week. It’s in the low-mid 20s, so both their pup and Son&Heir’s pup are inside much of the time. Watching their ~5 month old Lab/Boxer mix playing with Son&Heir’s ~7 month old Lab/Border Collie mix just makes me tired. *heh* Finally. . . just too much. Sent them to their “rooms” to calm down. (With the olderpup outside, the lil girl calmed down quickly. He’s fine, with his much thicker black coat and the sunlight, for a while. At least he likes it. 😉
After two such separations, the puppies have finally gotten to the point where they can be calmer around each other. This after two whole days of romping. I had to “dog whisper” them a bit, even then, by sitting down with them and physically separating them, then performing “calming massage” (adapted from a equine massage technique–apparently such techniques can be universally adapted😉 ) with them both. Heck, now the cats (all three–our two and the visitor who HATES ALL DOGS. . . and most people) are calm and napping, our two behind me on the back of the loveseat I’m on now and the dog-hater on my Wonder Woman’s lap.
Peace in our time.
One of the very few drawbacks to living in America’s Third World County™ has been our experiences with appliance repairmen. We’ve decided over the years that going outside the county is wise, when it comes to appliance repair, whether that’s fridges, washers, or HVAC, etc. Just really bad experiences with execrably poor service from “highly-recommended” locals. *shrugs* Others’ experiences might vary, but ours? Universally poor service from local companies.
So, when cold weather hit and we needed our (gas, forced air) furnace, what happened? Well, first I changed the filter, than tried the furnace out. Right. No air. The fan would not come on, and nor would the burners. Well, since the fan and the gas valve are inter-related, via the control interface, if the fan didn’t work, the burners would not.
So, did I call someone? Nope. Tested the fan with separate power. No joy. Motor out. Replace motor (preferred option)? Nope. The thing’s apparently forty years old (!) and I think I’d have to cut it loose from the fan. Nope. Not gonna.
So, bought new fan.
The mounting bracket on the new (larger, more powerful) fan is almost the right width. wrong configuration. So, cut the mounting bracket off the old fan housing and affixed it to the new one. Fits. Mount the fan, wire it and. . . no joy.
So, I confirmed the old fan was defunct, but now the transformer/switch assembly isn’t working either? Another $25. (Note: 15 years ago, a local ripoff “repairman” charged $95 for the part. . . in an off-brand. . . and still didn’t fix the issue until he checked what I told him to check elsewhere. . . on his THIRD TRIP. HIGHLY recommended by multiple sources. MHWA.) Wired the new control relay in and. . . FAN! But no furnace ignition. Pilot light working fine, but gas valve: no joy.
Hmmm. . . sit back. Check Internet to see if my wiring job was right (the wiring diagram from the control relay mfg. did NOT make sense according to the wiring diagram on the furnace’s service panel, so I had transferred wires one at a time from the old relay. Maybe that was the problem. *heh*) Well, yes and no. It seems a wire from the relay to to gas valve HAD BROKEN and dropped down during my rewiring. (Dark, old eyes–hence difficulty focusing–“headlight” focused in wrong place, etc. I just missed it dropping off the gas valve.) Found it later on the floor and wondered where it had come from.
The ONLY clue I got from my hunting on the Internet was a YouTube video where a guy pointed out, on a similar but not the same, SPDT relay where the gas valve wiring FROM the relay should be connected. Fortunately, he also called it by name, so I could locate the correct place to wire it in on my relay.
At last, joy. Warm last night. Almost too warm for me, frankly. 70°F is just too warm for indoor Autumn living. Heck, places near a register and away from the thermostat have gotten up to 73°-75°! Turned down a tad.
Note: what I learned? Oh, I already knew to do it, but I forgot to take pictures of the installation before I replaced the relay. *head-desk* Oh, well. Would have saved a headache, but all’s well, and all that.
P.S. #2: May also need a new thermostat. Cool temps today, furnace apparently came on a few times, though, and most of the house is at 75° even though the thermostat is set at 68°. It might not be a problem. Could just have been solar gain, since we are fairly well insulated and the house–overall–started out around 70°, with the previously noted “hot spots”.
“No true Scotsman” is “a kind of ad hoc rescue of one’s generalization in which the reasoner re-characterizes the situation solely in order to escape refutation of the generalization.”1
Example:
Smith: All Scotsmen are loyal and brave.
Jones: But McDougal over there is a Scotsman, and he was arrested by his commanding officer for running from the enemy.
Smith: Well, if that’s right, it just shows that McDougal wasn’t a TRUE Scotsman.
Now, once or twice I’ve been accused of this fallacy–of “redefining” terms–when discoursing on the differences between Christians and Muslims, Christianity and Islam. The problems my interlocutors have had is that I “defined” Christians and Muslims by the standards set forth by the founders and documenters of both Christianity and Islam. Hmmm, that would seem to me to be fair, not fallacious.
When someone claiming to be a Christian acts against the teachings of Christ and the Apostles (say, the Papal legate, the Abbot of Citeaux Arnaud Amalric commanding that the inhabitants of Béziers be massacred), that would seem to very legitimately impeach that person’s claim to be Christian or to be acting in the name of the Founder of Christianity, would it not?
When someone claiming to be a Muslim acts in accordance with the life and teachings of Mohamed (say, mass murder, rape and enslavement of those who disagree with the teachings of Islam, as Mohamed’s first “victory”–the massacre of the Banu Quraysh Jews–and his explicit teachings demand), one would legitimately consider that person to be a legitimate follower of Mohamed. OTOH, “peaceful” Muslims violate both the commandments of Mohamed and disrespect his life example.
Based on the life and teachings of these two men, and the explicit commands they left their followers, reason would dictate one evaluate those claiming to be their followers based on whether or not they actually do follow those they claim to follow.
One can never tell when law enforcement can be counted on to “protect and serve” the common citizen. Play it safe. Zip your lips.
“If I Just Talk To The Police I Can Clear This Up” — The Dangerous Delusion
Anti-GMOers have this fantasy that some plant foods are “pure,” unmodified genetically. They are are to be pitied for their illiteracy. Almost ALL plants consumed by humans as food today have been genetically modified from their original forms, most of which ranged from mildly toxic to only marginally nutritious. Without a history (and prehistory) of human genetic modification of plants, we’d all still be carnivores.
Just one?!?
(No pics, just a few personal observations.)
Ordinarily, as I go about my day, I have, oh, maybe three or four knives on my person at all times. A Gerber lockback folder with a pretty substantial modified spearpoint blade that I can wear on my belt really unobtrusively (horizontally–a nice option on the included sheath), a couple of Kershaw “speedsafe” spring assisted lockbacks in my pockets (left/right) and maybe another Kershaw clipped to my back pocket. All blades on the Kershaw lockbacks are ~2.75”. Oh, and a “credit card” blade. Just because.
In the car, I usually have a 5”-bladed lockback “escape knife”–glass breaker, seatbelt cutter, etc., built in–in the door pocket, and my favorite skinning knife and another Kershaw folder in the center console. Multi-tool in the glove box.
Oh, and if I’m toting my “fanny pack” (worn in front), there’ll be a nicer (rosewood grips *shrugs* They don’t detract from functionality, so why not?) multitool in it.
I rarely (OK, never *heh*) tote my 12”-bladed German fireman’s dagger for EDC . . . but I suppose I could. *heh* It’s configured for additional use as a bayonet, so. . .
My bugout/eprep bag has a couple more, like the USMC model Ka-Bar Estimable Son-in-Law gave me–really good for a “walk in the deer woods” and a nice hand ax my Wonder Woman gave me (so I don’t have to use my grandfather’s camp ax or my dad’s Boy Scout ax). The hand ax isn’t a knife, of course, but it’s a bladed tool.
Anywho, I don’t mind weighing another couple of pounds, but I’ve discovered not many other folks regularly carry this many knives. Whatever.
Well, that does it for knives I regularly have close to hand. . . 😉
Every now and then, a baby troll will drop in here at this place. Always, always, always, these baby trolls are illiterate, woefully uninformed/misinformed/disinformed (and proud of it!) morons who refuse to use facts and reason, and who litter their verbal vomit with misused words, incomprehensible punctuation and grammar that would gag a maggot (demonstrating again a lack of ability to engage in logical thought, for syntax is the linchpin of logic in language).
In the past, these trolls have been primarily either Loony Left Moonbats or Muslims, but the sheer volume of baby trolls on the interwebs now that any illiterate moron with a credit card can obtain some sort of Internet capable device beggars the imagination, and so even here, at this modest lil place where I can just let “the voices in my head” run around and play, using casual speech, combined with verifiable fact and sensible opinion, baby trolls do occasionally come calling.
And what do I do?
I feed them (and in doing so perform a public service, but more on that later). And how do I feed them? Well, if they are simply illiterate morons who are proud of their ignorance and proud of their woefully uninformed/misinformed/disinformed, I may just tweak them for a while, though I will almost ALWAYS enjoin them to do their homework, somewhere down the line, and I’ll usually even give them hints to aid them in their homework.
But, alas! That will not do for baby trolls. Most are offended when anyone notes the profound stupidity of their comments, and so immediately start the slide to the Godwin Fallacy. No, really! it’s inevitable. [Edit: it is especially hilarious when Leftists and Muslims do this. They never see the irony.]
So, as long as it amuses me, I will continue with these baby trolls, allowing their almost “spamtardish” comments and responding with vicious, cruel, heartless deconstruction of their stupid comments, and even lading invective and vulgarity in response to such things as veiled death threats and the like. (Come to my house and try that, putzes. No, really. We do have a Second Amendment for good reason, you know. Just ask the Supreme Court about Heller. *heh*)
As to “performing a public service,” well, first, it’s like my tactic for dealing with Jehovah’s Witnesses or Mormon “Missionaries”. I usually try to consume as much of their time and resources (I ALWAYS ask for any “literature” they may have), in order to limit their time and resources available to spend elsewhere. I also spend time arguing with them, and supporting my arguments with facts from their own precepts that are easily refuted from sources they (falsely) claim to respect. [Edit: I also used to go visit them at their places of abode and spend time expounding views antithetical to their heresies. Tit for tat, as it were. *heh*]
The differences in tactics between dealing w/JWs and MMs as opposed to baby trolls? JWs and MMs are usually much, much more intelligent and literate than baby trolls on the interwebs, and have yet to resort to ad hominem attacks (such as the Godwin Fallacy) and threats, and those stupid behaviors are reason enough to lade invective on baby trolls. It amuses me, and it calms and soothes my mind to do so, and, from the evidence of their commentary, it reduces them to foaming at the mouth, for all the world appearing to be on the verge of stroking out. Thus, egging baby trolls on and encouraging them to vent their spleen in ever greater degree, gives me hope that they are thereby shortening their own lives.
So there: my modest public service vis-à-vis Internet trolls. It’s a dirty job, but someone has to do it. That it’s also amusing, relaxing and just downright fun is just a bonus.