Learn to write “Smarter Than a Fifth Grader (Who Rode the Short Bus to School and Spend Five Years in Fifth Grade Before Being Passed ON)™.”
YW.
Po-tay-toe/Po-tah-toe?
Second ‘graph in an “isekai” novel apparently written by a seventh grade boy refers to a “weighty, hardcover novel” and references the weighty subject(s) it details:
“Every page was filled with gorgeous alien babes, heroic duels, and shitloads of Martian gold.”
Yeh. Filed in (digital) file 13. Hey! I gave it a fair shot! Circular filed after 1.5 paragraphs shows I gave it a “fair shot,” doesn’t it?
*smh*
At least by ditching it early I only killed a few “little grey cells.”
I finally discovered how so many subliterate Dunning-Krugerands who are hormonally stalled at seventh grade (but who have yet to conquer fifth grade vocabulary, grammar, etc.) can have the utter gall to self-publish:
“My mama told me I am a genius, so I don’t have to learn what it takes for other people to master the craft of writing, ‘cos I R so smart that I know everything!”
#gagamaggot
Other examples include an almost COMPLETE lack of firearms knowledge “informing” a Dunning-Krugerand’s descriptive narrative involving firearms. “No, chicky-poo. It does NOT work that way,” is a common thought when I run across a writer with an Alec Baldwin-level, Hollyweirdish “mis-stupid-ignorance” of firearms. *smh* “No, dearie. Keep the booger hook off the bang switch, and don’t look down the barrel that way unless you INTEND to end it all, mmmK?”
And then there are the dumbass Dunning-Krugerands who bailed out on science and technology before they skated past fifth grade “explaining” how chemical processes (say, making steel) work. “Yeh, sweetie, you can make a firearm out of what you describe, but expect to lose a hand, an eye, or your head when it blows up, ‘K?”
*smh*
Or writing about horses (riding, caring for, etc.) or camping or tracking or whatever: no, none of those things work like that. Oh, and talking to guuuurrrrls! *sigh* I swear, seventh grade boys’ hormone-damaged brains can come up with better dialog than some of these po’ autolobotomized dummies.
But, it’s a Brave New World where ANYONE can publish a book (and where even tradpubbed books are frequently as bad, because not just writers but gatekeeper editors, proofreaders, etc., are often just as subliterate as the worst self-pubs).
What is a “Gin-Saké”?
A cocktail for the brain damaged and morally-vapid WH press secretary: the Gin-Saké Martini.
Someone ought to start bringing her a barrel of the stuff for her press conferences. It would improve them a great deal.
ROE
I am not clear on the rules of engagement the Ukrainian resistance is operating under, though I would think that “anything goes” would be appropriate when dealing with an invader. . . (I’d include some soap flakes/shredded Styrofoam in gasoline/diesel-based Molotov Cocktails, were I making some for resistance, but maybe that’s just me. . . )
What’s This I Hear About a “Super Bowel”?
Yeh, I post things like this because you can’t stop me.
Room to Swing a Cat
Whenever I hear or read that phrase, I always catch at least a glimpse of my 5-y.o. self grabbing the tail of the mean cat from next door and hammer-throwing it back across the fence. Good times. . .
It’s the Little Things #4,831 *heh*
I kinda wonder sometimes. . . I see snippets of TV (because I rarely see anything worth watching for a longer time), and programs that show characters riding horseback are, at best, a mixed bag. Sometimes, they’re just sacks of potatoes jouncing along. Painfully. At other times, I see riders posting the trot, but even then it’s usually very badly–often because their stirrups are badly hung.
I really have to wonder what the various people involved in the filming–from the actors to the directors to, well, whatever horse wrangler they may (or may not?) have are thinking. *smh*
But then, there’s the “Little Thing” #10 (and I am surprised there are any more highly ranked, but then. . . ): complete, total, and absolute blank space where firearms knowledge should exist in the script, direction, and action. That’s higher ranked, of course, because it’s dangerous (and not only on the set!).
Never Thought of That Before. . .
Just read a narrative describing some “eastern Über-urban greenhorns'” first experience tacking up and riding horses. I had never before considered just how intimidating horses could be to someone from such sheltered backgrounds. *shrugs* It had just never occurred to me.
*heh* Further descriptive narrative from short “horse trek” event: “Watch that back leg so he can’t cock his guns and [‘cow’-] kick you, and mind yer back when you pull off the bridle so he can’t bite you. . .” Yeh, probably the second and third lessons taught me by one cantankerous old guy. The first one was memorable (and I still remember it when the weather changes): watch your feet–or better yet, the horse’s feet.
My Ever-Expanding World!
Left the house for the first time in nearly two weeks this morning. Went 10 yards. Installed new headlamp in Son&Heir’s car. Came back in. That’s enough for this week.
Checklist
Runny nose — Check
Headache — Check
Fatigue — Check
Sneezing — 60%.
Sore throat — Check (minor, from drainage; progressed to major, for a few hours until ameliorative effects too hold)
Persistent cough — Check (Well, intermittently persistent *heh*)
Hoarse voice — Check (But that’s pretty normal from time ti time nowadays; progressed to full-blown laryngitis, but that’s been a lifelong likelihood with such illesses)
Chills or shivers — Check
Fever — Check
Dizziness — Check
Brain fog — Check (Or is that Olde Pharte Syndrome?)
Muscle pains — Check
Loss of smell — Nope. (Just slightly dulled)
Chest pain — Check
So, pretty much a Winter cold. Fever was pretty bad last night, but broke this AM (somewhere between 0444 and 1038 — I got back to sleep between those times, so can’t pin down the time any better).
Is it Omicron? I do not care. Apparently, I’m going to survive a Winter cold. Who knew? Been doing that for 70+ years, so there was a decent chance I’d live through it.
Oh, earaches, but again, those are pretty much normal for me with colds. Lil warm olive oil, cotton balls. Worked a charm.
One week beyond the above: I see to have mostly seen the back of this checklist, apart from muscle aches and fatigue, which are still very much hanging on, but I understand from my primary care doc that I should expect a slow recovery from those symptoms. My blood oximeter readings are not all that encouraging, falling below both my own norms and what is considered a baseline optimum of 95. Deep breathing exercises seem to ameliorate this, though.