Whether Trumpery Cultists or party “faithfuls” who have resigned themselves to supporting The Orange Trumpery: out-“lemminging” the mythical lemmings, one and all.
Talking to the Dead
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.
Med Services as an Example of What Is Wrong With Society
After my Wonder Woman’s recent adventures in things medical, where every person asked the same questions over and over, in order to fill out yet another form (when multiple times the same questions had been asked, answered and entered into electronic databases), I am thinking of having a “medalert tag” made that says something on the order of,
“No known allergies to any medications. Severely allergic to being asked the same questions over and over. Will charge $100 for each time the same question is asked when it has been previously answered.”
I understand the “cover your ass” aspect of our current med system, brought on by stupid legal practices that are counterproductive for everyone but lawyers, and by (mostly) “feddle gummint bureaucrappic” interference in medical services, but really? Assholes asking the same question that has been asked by someone else and answered IN THEIR PRESENCE?
OK, maybe I can abate my charges a bit and only charge $50 for every 15 minutes of bullshit. *heh*
Pop Culture Is “Misunderedumacated”
Two simple examples:
Geographical “illiteracy”: time after time on “remodeling” or “house flip” shows, folks referring to a peninsula as an “island.” Sometimes, folks’ll refer to the same feature as both. Folks who have no concept of the difference between a peninsula and an island are illiterate.
N.B. “Material literacy“. . . ain’t. Literacy, that is. Having common, ordinary, everyday words in one’s (written or verbal) vocabulary and not knowing what those words mean? Yeh, “misunderedumacated.”
Here’s another very simple example, though just one of many in the long, long list of words people use without even knowing what they are saying: lay vs. lie:
“Lay” takes a direct object: one lays down a book. “Lie” takes a subject: I lie down on the sofa.
The (simple) past tense of “lay” is “laid.” The (simple) past tense of “lie” is “lay” or when “lie” is used in the sense of “wittingly utter a falsehood” the (simple) past tense is “lied.” At least the past participles are easier: lay?[has/had/have] laid; lie?[has/had/have] lain; lie (utter falsehood)?[has/had/have] lied. *heh*
Ain’t English fun?
If you ever have trouble remembering which to use–lay or lie–just remember: Bob Dylan got it wrong. “Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed. . . ” would have had red pencil through each of the “lays” had he submitted it in an English class. . . if the teacher had been literate, that is. 😉
BTW, the “subject/object” issue raises its ugly head all over the place, but it’s especially glaring when people use the first person personal pronoun,”I,” in an objective position, when “me” is called for.
It’s just people who aren’t really literate showing their “misunderedumacation.”
It’s the Little Things #3,485,326
I had to chuckle. While listening to a rendition of “Mitt hjerte alltid vanker” (a yootoob low quality recording, but still beautiful), I read a few of the comments. First one commented that “Norwegian is such a majestic language.”
OK, a wee tad amusing by itself, but the song was in. . . Danish. Close (very close), but no cigar. Amusing.
The Trumpery’s Fav “Bible Verse”?
[Sidebar: it’s not just subliterate, lying politicians who make up “scripture.” I’ve known more than a few literate “preachers” who have done so wittingly.]
I hear that The Trumpery’s favorite verse from “Two Corinthians” actually starts out that way. Two Corinthians Two:Two (Trumpery Standard Version) “Two Corinthians walk into a bar. . . “
Silly Hivemind Podpeople
Saw a question posed by a Talking Head Podperson:
“Are the Presidential Debates ‘Rigged’ Against Trump?”
*duh*
If they were real debates, then The Trumpery wouldn’t have an even vain hope against even the worst public speaker on the national stage, the Queenie Cacklepants Cylon (Worst? Why, its Human Emulation Module is so defective that every time it engages, the thing looks and sounds like a deranged Bonobo chimp wearing a defective shock collar, that’s how bad the thing is).
As it is, with Mass Media Podpeople Hivemind Talking Heads posing their agenda-driven questions (no doubt directly from the Hivemind’s daily download from the mothership orbiting Uranus–well, it’s as ‘kind and gentle’ a spin to put on the Hivemind’s monolithic narrative as any), all The Trumpery has to do to energize his base s show up and berate the Hivemind Podpeople for their biased approach.
Nah, what would REALLY stack the deck against The Trumpery would be if Gary Johnson were included in the show trial “debates.” THAT would chap his gizzard no end. Oh, and the Queenie Cacklepants Cylon? It’d need a LOT more oil on its disposal chute’s hinges to try to dump enough fecal matter (salvaged from banal politicians, concentrated and stored for use in its pronouncements) to make any impact at all.
Urgent Need for Organ Donors
The Trumpery needs a brain. Anyone who has a brain to spare, please take note.
Meanwhile, The Queenie Cacklepants Cylon needs a new heart. It ate the heart of the little child it had sitting on its desk.
Existential Questions
I ask people, “How am I?” because I want THEM to deal with an existential question that doesn’t intimately involve their own existence.
If someone asks me how I am, I tell them I don’t answer existential questions on days ending in “y”.
No One of Any Significance. . .
If I ever tire of Phreddie P. Phineas Phocksphire Pharquhar, I think I would be happy to adopt “Nanny McPhee” as a sobriquet. . . although my Wonder Woman thinks “Manny McPhee” would be a bit less gender-bending. 😉
Thatisall.