"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."
OK, so it’s not really night here, but at 6:10p.m., it’s hot. At the local high school, which supplies NOAA readings:
Current: 97°F
Hi: 101°F
Heat Index: 111°F
Humidity: 48%
Little wonder our AC has been struggling a tad this afternoon.
No, I did not do any yard work today. I’m not that stupid. Yet. 🙂
Locusts die by thousands… *heh*
This hasn’t been an exactly toxic week, but it’s been… interesting. The proverbial one-armed paper hanger is a slacker. Heck, I’ve not even had time to find Mass Media Podpeople Hivemind “news” to mock. Did make time to wind down a bit with the season opener of Burn Notice last night (a little disappointing, but then maybe my week colored my viewpoint).
Off to the “races” again today. 7:30. Getting a slow start today.
Say “Hi” to life for me. I don’t have time for it right now. 🙂
The snippet that is this post’s title? A Bartholomew Gill character speaking of fishing in Death On a Cold, Wild River. While I don’t find fishing to be “doubt’s anodyne and care’s surcease,” I do find some comfort in the volunteers of Spring to combat the barbaric nature of contemporary “civilization”. Notably,
Oh, I very much appreciate the delicious mint and wild garlic and even the “possum grapes” that thrust themselves to prominence in Spring, but the dandelion, one of God’s most beautiful flowers, delicious and nutritious, useful in all its parts*, is my favorite.
So, while wearing two knee braces on the same knee *heh* this a.m. (after dealing with some folks’ computer issues), I took a bucket out to sit on while “weeding” and gathered some mint and wild garlic and–for now–just appreciated my lovely crop of dandelions.
Our local cable service tech was out at our Good Neighbors’ place, and we exchanged uses for the dandelion. He told me of grandkids coming over and asking for “yard food”–he and his wife also harvest “volunteer crops” from their yard, and that gave me a foreshadowing of feeds for future grandkids of our own.
A nice lil interlude in the day.
* Continue reading ““…doubt’s anodyne and care’s surcease… “”
As Jerry Pournelle says (at the link),
“Now the government that approves an Energy Star Certificate for a gasoline powered alarm clock will now in essence take over administering the Health Care System in the United States. Good luck, America.”
Be sure to follow the link to the NYT article from the comments at Pournelle’s site.
…compounded by another, even more minor, but nearly as irritating. While reading along in a book by an author I have come to expect to be fairly literate, published by a company that has usually competent editors, I read, “Here, here” in a context that called for “Hear, hear.”
Now, I know that sort of phrase is subject to one of the common classes of typos, and I have even–momentarily–typed “Hear, here” before *heh-heh* 🙂 But really. *sigh* The author, one of the proof readers or the editor ought to have caught that.
(Sadly, this video, which ought to be a brief introduction to the differences between “here” and “hear”–as a way of leading into the etymology of the expression “Hear, hear”– contains a comma splice in the introduction to “here” that is inexcusable in a video purporting to be English instruction. *sigh*
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C5xDvkk-qxA)
A decent explanation of “Hear, hear!” is here, hear?
Of course, there is one small problem in the explanation linked above. It introduces another expression that most folks have just not bothered to understand: “exception that proves the rule”–;-) Perhaps a slightly better–for not having “exception that proves the rule”–explanation is here-here.
Lovely Daughter is now a Mrs. Was a trying couple of days–all good stress, but nonetheless…
Gonna take a nap now.
A pic after the jump.
I utterly abhor the illiterate construction, “12:00 p.m.” used to refer to Noon. “P.M.” means “Post Meridian” and Noon IS the Meridian; it cannot be after itself. Now, there may be some weak argument for referring to Midnight as “12:00 a.m.” because in one sense it is “ante meridian” but since it is both the beginning of one day while also serving as the end of the previous day, Midnight is simply better. But there is no excuse under the Sun for “12:00 p.m.” to be used to refer to Noon. None. Anyone who uses it deserves 50 lashes with a sharp second hand.
Buttons, Son&Heir’s medium-sized “some kind of herding dog/beagle mix” who, for most of his life weighed in at between 45 and 50 very lean pounds, at the ripe old age of seventeen(ish), finally “slipped the surly bonds of earth” yesterday, about noon.
Goodbye, buddy.
(Almost always a “happy dog” he appears to be squinting here because he is. Sun in his eyes and all that. 🙂 Photo taken about four years ago, just a couple of months after he nearly died from an infection–caught just in time to be turned around with very aggressive anti-biotic treatment.)
Although Buttons much preferred outdoor life–and was an exclusively outdoor dog for almost all the years he was with us, after we got him from his previous owners at age 2.5 yrs or so (they had kept him “crated” for about 23 hours/day. Should have been shot). This winter, he spent most of his time indoors, though–especially when temps were below freezing. The sudden slide downhill in the past couple of weeks–most of it in the last couple of days was not easy to watch. The vet agreed with me that he was at the end of the road, and that was that.
Yes, I cried a tad. So sue me for it.
Leashes and treats have already been doled out to The Good Neighbors for their dogs. I’m still waiting to see if they want a ton of dog food–canned and dry. Buttons was a sharing kinda guy. 🙂
Lovely Daughter’s wedding is two weeks from today. She has made a mix CD of songs for the wedding reception afterwards, and one–“The Best Is Yet To Come” as sung by Michael Buble (nice, just, I dunno, a certain je ne sais quoi)–begged me to post a clip of this version of the song as performed by Frank Sinatra with Count Basie And His Orchestra on the album, Nothing But the Best. It’s barely more than 30 seconds–about what Amazon lets folks sample–so go pick up a 99 cent download for yourself.
[audio:The Best Is Yet To Come-Frank Sinatra-clip.mp3]Anyone recall the 2000 Census “long forms”? Nightmares for respondents and for Census workers, too, I should imagine.
There’s some small improvement in the Census questionnaire that is to begin being mailed out March 1. Only 10 questions, apparently. Download a pdf the Census Bureau has available for review here.
The only question I found really offensive was the question on race. Somehow, I suspect that if I checked “Some other race” and wrote in “Human” that I’d receive a visit asking for clarification… *heh* The phone number question? It’s not as though getting my phone number from a reverse directory is impossible, although in 2000 it would have been a problem (since we didn’t get “real” street addresses on my street until 2005 or so, IIRC).