Culling the Herd

See other posts on my reading addiction. It’s been out of control for more than 50 years. Recently, I’ve been able to put some books down before finishing them with a hearty, “&@## no! Not worth my time!”

I’ve just recently (OK, 5 minutes ago) created another, “Nope. Not wasting my time” category under fiction reads. Picked up a real goat-gagger (something I usually enjoy: lots and lots and lots of pages of small text on very thin, high-quality–at least for this day and age–paper). It promised fair to hold my attention for a good evening’s read. . . until I got to the four pages of background timeline covering a couple hundred years of back story and another four pages of dramatis personae.

Oh, &@## no! It’s supposed to be a story! If I NEED a set of references to keep the story straight, the guy obviously can’t just tell the story and get out of the way. I’ve done that sort of thing–read books where authors just canNOT just tell the story and paint the worldscape/background into the narrative skillfully, and it’s just a PITA. If an author can’t just do his job well enough to do paint the worldscape/background into the narrative skillfully, I’m not going to waste my time on his work. He’s banned from my reading list. Period.

Moving on. . .

Better Hope TEOTWAWKI Never Happens. . .

. . . because civilization would truly collapse. Why do I say this? Because not only are young adults–you know, the ones who would have to carry the torch, as it were–largely illiterate (or at least massively subliterate and/or a-literate), but most of them don’t even know how to hold a writing implement like a pen or pencil.

Seriously. Watch a 20-something try to write anything with pen and paper. Almost every one I see nowadays has the most awkward, cramp-inducing grip imaginable. This, of course, results in nearly unreadable penmanship in many cases and is sure to induce the dreaded “writer’s cramp” in short order. Without the ability to comprehend the millions of volumes of written “dead tree” text (no matter how laboriously they may be able to decode those funny lil squiggles on the page) and thumb-text in “pseudo-L33T” on their ubiquitous dumb phones, the transmission of information is bound to die.

In short order, what was once civilization will be back to the Dark Ages where people don’t even know what used to be possible. Though it’d still be an order of magnitude more advanced than the typical Muslim society today, it’d be back to life as “nasty, brutish and short” in a generation.

Incurious Subliteracy

As I have often said here, I read a lot. No, more than what most folks think is “a lot”–much more. I have done for a little over 56 years now, and as a result have read a few thousand more books alone than anyone else I have yet met.

Now, that’s not in any way some sort of boasting, just a setting of the stage, as it were, OK? In fact, such addiction to reading is nothing to boast about at all, and, like other addictions, it has some undesirable or even simply irritating consequences.

One of the consequences of so very much reading is that I’ve observed a general diminution of literate use of English (I don’t read much in other languages any more and haven’t for a couple of decades *shrugs* It’s just worked out that way) in more and more recent works, and not just in the recent deluge of self-published (or “indie”) books. I’ll just cite one example of many in a recent book that I finished despite the fact that I wrote deprecating margin notes at least once per page, sometimes as many as four per page, expressing my disgust at egregious word misuses, inexcusable grammar errors, etc. The example?

“He was the exception that proves the rule,” misused to mean, in context of the rest of the passage, that this exceptional person demonstrated the validity of a particular “rule” by violating it and succeeding anyway.

*sigh*

That alone would have convinced me of the author’s obstinate, arrogant, obdurate incuriosity and ignorance. (Don’t assail me for redundancy–obstinate/obdurate. I’d add more synonyms with slightly variant meanings, but you have your own Thesaurus *heh*) Many, many decades ago, or so it seems to me now *heh*, I wondered at a use of “prove” that puzzled my childhood brain, as it did not seem to match up with the meaning I knew–show the truth of a thing via evidence or argument.

Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in mine house, and prove me now herewith, saith the LORD of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it. — Malachi 3:10

As my curious search discovered then (thank heavens for a LARGE “library” style two-volume dictionary in our family library), “prove” is used in the verse as translated in the KJV text above to mean “test”. And just so is “prove” used in the phrase, “exception that proves (tests) the rule.”

And so is the richness and diversity of the English language–a language of which it has been said that it’s quite happy to drag other languages into a dark alley to mug ’em for as little as a useful participle–degraded by thousands upon thousands of subliterate, dim-witted, incurious dumbasses who never bother to read outside their own little box and so never discover that what they “know” just ain’t so. . . in spades, doubled and redoubled.

BTW, the book that garnered so much red ink from me is one I became convinced was written, proof-read and edited by a congress of bare-assed baboons. I had to cleanse my mental palate with some Shakespeare.

Continue reading “Incurious Subliteracy”

Cool Heat

We don’t have a fireplace in our cozy lil home, and there’s not really any good place to add one, but. . .

We are considering finally replacing our old (still pretty nice) Magnavox bottle screen TV with a much larger LCD screen perhaps sometime this year. Yeh, no real hurry there, since TV isn’t really the center of our universe like it is for some (although I’ll admit watching Downton Abbey on my lil 15.6″ lappy screen positioned about 15″ from my eyes or even on my Kindle Fire (original) is pretty nice).

Still, a new, larger, wide aspect screen would let me build a faux mantle and surround for a collection of fireplace videos. . . 😉 Heck, there’s even a forced air heat duct on that wall (which I want routed UNDER the EC, away from both the piano and the HTPC, in future). Right now, it’s closed off (because its close to the piano’s best location), but routed out somewhere near where the fireplace videos would be running would be nice on a cold winter’s night. *heh* Sure, no real radiant heat (well, unless I could route the computer’s waste heat differently, too* ;-)), but still, it’d be fun: some snap, crackle, pop and other fireplace sounds and views to accompany quiet conversation, snuggling, or just side-by-side reading, as is often our habit.

Continue reading “Cool Heat”

A Critical Element of So-called “Gun Control”

It’s not “the essence” of gun control, as The Puppy Blender labels it–the essence is self-anointed elites controlling those they feel are their inferiors, alluded to but not specifically stated below–but it is a critical element:

“. . .the essence of gun control: ‘Again, it’s an expression of contempt for Middle America. They don’t like you and yours and don’t think you should be in charge of the capacity to take care of yourself. They know they can’t do this for you, but they’ve hired these nice people to draw chalk outlines of your kids, and that’s supposed to make you feel better.'”

And do note, these self-anointed elites not only “know they can’t do this [take care of you/protect you from predators, etc.] for you” but they are counting on it; they WANT those they view as their inferiors to be incapable of resisting predation, because they are the prime predators. Their true subtext to the rest of us is, “Welcome to serfdom; just lay back and enjoy the rape. It’s for our own good”

“The Beauty of the Windows 8 Start Screen”?

*feh* I’d like some of what this guy’s smoking, because the Start Screen is ugly, in a “Aw, isn’t that cute” kindergartenish way. (Get out the primary-colored wooden blocks for the mentally challenged kindergärtners still operating in toddler mode.)

I did put Win8 Pro on an older HTPC, along with WMC. The Start screen is completely useless in that application, since WMC is still a “Desktop” application. That computer boots directly into the Desktop, and I’ve added a Start button/menu, since none of the Tiled apps have any use whatsoever on that machine.

On the desktop, minor improvements in memory handling make Win8 a nice change for the older computer operating as a HTPC; minor tweaks to Explorer and Task Manager are welcome, though better apps have been available from Sysinternals for years. But that’s about it. While I don’t really miss the eye candy earlier Windows versions offered, I do miss the option to have it if I want. Reverting to a pre-Win2K dullness without an option to spice it up a bit built in seems more Mac “do it our way or else” straitjacketing, but maybe M$ thinks it’s time to get with the Mac lockdown attitude toward users.

Seems M$ has determined that its future lies with users who are using tablets only, or desktop users who are still in “special ed” kindergarten, hence the Tiled interface of the Start screen. *shrugs* Time will tell if M$ is right or not. Frankly, I cannot see much use at all for Win8 for most desktop users, and there are a lot of those still left in the pool, many more than there are tablet users. Maybe Surface Pro can make Win8 make sense to more people who need to do more than just consume content.

Good News?

With all the “must miss” new TV shows coming up, it’s heartening to hear them promo’ed with, “Premiering, FebYOUWARY XX” since there is no such month as “Feb-You-Wary”.

Well, either that or the dumbasses doing the promos are too illiterate to be able to simply read, “February.”

“Microsoft Time”

A couple of weeks ago, I jumped through Microsoft’s hoops to get a license key to add Windows Media Center to Win8 Pro. M$ said, “WTG, Bubba! You’ll have that key via email in 72 hours or so,” or words to that effect. The “72 hours” was there, though. 72 hours, three days. Yeh, well, let’s knock off the weekends, because, you know, automated responses–heck! the Internet!–don’t work on weekends. So, naturally, “72 hours”. . . it wasn’t. Just got it a couple of minutes ago.

Luckily (not! PLANNING *heh*) I had requested a key under different identifiers two months ago, so I’ve already installed WMC for Win8, otherwise, Win8 would’ve been sitting pretty much unused on the HTPC.

Persnicketty

OK, remember this guy?

head-butt-cat

Well, we used to also serve the needs of two much older “dowager princesses” who have since left for greener, cathouses. (RIP, ladies) In the time since this guy fell heir to the two cat boxes we have retained, I’ve noticed that he’s a very persnicketty, urm, “waste disposer”. One is for liquid, the other for solid, and by gum! I’d better not let one become inconvenient for its intended purpose!

Cats. Bindmoggling.