Archive for May, 2012

Collecting Cretin Cream (AKA bullshit) in the wild is easy.

Put 30pW of electrical energy into an LED and get out 62pW of photons.

Then, sit back and let the comments section fill up with BS, and scrape off the “cream” that floats to the top.

A commenter said:

I understand the power and light levels we are talking about are vanishingly low. Is there a chance that this technology can be scaled up to more useful, everyday levels, like generating the equivalent light of a 60 watt incandescent bulb,say? If it could be scaled up, my first thought was coupling these LED’s with solar cells to generate more electricity to power more of these lights, potentially creating a heat-fed perpetual-motion machine, but I realize that solar cells would never be efficient enough to make that work.

Yeah, actually uttered and put out there on the internet where it will live forever.

That’s exactly what some of my friends were thinking. Say you’ve got a 1 W electricity source (thus a 2.3 W light output). You only actually need a photocell that is 1/2.3 = ~43.5% efficient in order to have perpetual, self-fed light. Any efficiency above that will effectively be an engine that converts heat into electricity.Note the significant difference here between this engine and normal engines. The normal conception of entropy is based on the assumption that you need a heat DIFFERENCE in order to convert head energy to any other form of energy (ie, you need a reason for heat to flow). However, this new engine would actually break that principle, because no matter how cold the LED is, powering it electrically would induce an endothermic process that would absorb what little heat was available and convert it to light. Suffice it to say, though I’m sure I’m missing some subtlety, it seems that this discovery disproves our classical conception of entropy. With enough of these, one could literally prevent the heat death of the universe [emphasis mine – LK]

Wow.  Saving the universe 30pW at a time.  Ingenious.

No, seriously.  The idea that this device violates the first and second laws of thermodynamics has every physics weirdo short-stroking it all over the place but there is no free lunch.  It either works or it doesn’t but don’t for a second run around thinking that thermodynamics is going to get turned on it’s ear.

Go smoke another bowl, dudes, and stay away from science.  Zero-point energy, crystals, and blue babies – that’s where it’s really at.

Our “classical conception” of entropy is safe.

Ok, I’m done now.


New word definition from Dr. Lemur:

Planic Attack – n. – The frenzied planning/fear response of management when finally recognizing the project-threatening technical issues extensively documented by engineering at all stages of the project.   Usage:  Management finally realized that they were selling the customer on what is essentially a perpetual motion device and had a planic attack and tried to formulate some sort of damage control.

If you can make a neater/tighter definition and example, I’d love to hear it, because mine is clunky.


I had the most irritating mother-in-law experience on Memorial Day.  For fear of disruption of harmony under our roof I will not relay the exact details other than to say that my parting words on the matter to my MiL were “Apology accepted, I understand your feelings, but in communicating them, your delivery sucked.”

Let’s just say that the situation would have tested anyone’s patience unless they were in a vegetative state or were recently lobotomized with a rusty icepick.


This is last week’s news but I can’t help fixate on the incongruencies…

On one hand the Kentucky and Arkansas primaries must’ve ended up how they did because of racism.  On the other hand, swing state voters appear to think (correctly) that Joe Biden is a total schmuck.

On the OTHER hand, could it be, just perhaps… put it in the background… could it be that Obama sucks as a president and people have every right to not like him and vote against him without being called racist?


I may add more to this later…

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Day 5 of Sustained In-Law Loud Yammering (AKA “Operation SILLY”).

Must leave tactical tomahawk where it is…must leave tactical tomahawk where it is… must…

My MiL is a bat-crap crazy Food Nazi (BCCFN).

I had just gotten done with making a german potato salad and since she can’t eat a lot of salt I pointed her to a bowl of it that I made just for her, and mentioned that the only salt in it was the the bacon crumbles. She said “You know, you can get salt-free bacon at Lostco.”

I looked at her blankly and said “Huh.”  Then I went somewhere else.

Now, it’s just this sort of judgmental thing that really steams my clams.  You could poo-poo it away and say it is not a judgment but it totally is.  I notice she hasn’t said a think about the inadequacy of my cast iron skillets, truck tires, choice in shoes, etc.   What she DOES comment on is things that I do that she might not agree with.  I use salt.  I don’t give a rat’s tushy about bacon grease, and dammit, I cook for flavor.  I am not about to go buy 32lbs of salt-free bacon for my MiL.  Sorry.

I do not like my choices put on display or to have to rationalize or defend my choices.  This has created some stress/tension between Cruel Wife and myself because they are her parents.  After a “discussion” we decided that she would try to deflect and I am allowed to say something if it comes up.

Not even five minutes later I’m taking the chicken off the smoker and BCCFN stops and says “You know, I did some looking online and found some bullion that has no salt in it.  I said, “BCCFN, if you find this stuff online and you want some, let me know and I can get it ordered for you with no shipping costs.”

She said, “No, I already have some, I meant for you.”

I turned around slowly, stared at her with my most soul-less smile – the one that doesn’t reach my eyes and makes the cats incontinent – and said in the best imitation of Clint Eastwood scorn that I could dredge up,  “But BCCFN, I don’t have even the slightest interest in low salt foodsNone.”  and then just as slowly, with the smile still in place, I turned back to my chicken extraction.

Shut her right up and she went right into the house w/o another word.

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The In-Law Post

The in-laws are here.  Four days down and three weeks to go.

I could whinge about it or I could just move on and post one of the funniest things I’ve heard today.

You know what part of a baby monkey tastes best?  The tears.  –  Robert Evans, Cracked.com

Yeah, it’s awful.  I’m evil.  Cruel Wife says I’m a sick puppy.

I suck.

That’s all I’ve got to say, because I went to IKEA today and because I’m eating a raw blueberry Pop-Tart™.  But the good news is I got some of those IKEA meatballs.  They were delicious.

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Tip for the day…

Not posting much other than this link.  Working late tonight.

If you have Steam, check out the Universe Sandbox.

Now I know of another fun activity Lemurita and I can do together besides art and tearing things apart.

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I am totally stealing this from Aggie Sith.  She e:mailed me and insisted that I do so.  She can’t stop me.  I’m totally taking it.  I’m a runaway truck.  It’s stolen.  No idea where she nicked it.

Thanks Ag.  It’s beautifully awesometastic.  Black Lab on Amphetamines said to me today that there are lots of Lemur Memes out there but I replied that not one of them are a Matrix Lemur Meme, so this is still totally cool.


On Saturday we drove to a nearby town to meet up with Spaced Diode – our semi-regular but totally sporadic “Saturday coffee and pastry” kind of affair.

As we drove into town my Super Lemur powers spotted a man walking through the crosswalk.  He was glancing left to right constantly and his left arm was bent, with his forearm stuck out in front of him, a lot like you’d look if you were packing a .45 and fixin’ to ventilate something.  Lemurs just look for this sort of thing as a survival mechanism and it comes built-in to all models as a basic package perk.

I followed the curve of his arm and – sure as God made mammaries and little green apples – he had a gun-like thing in his hand.  It was attached to a reservoir at the bottom and it looked like he was ready to use it.  Stuck to it was the label:  Roundup™.

He walked by us and pointing back up our street I hollered out “Dude!  I just saw two dandelions run that way!”

Flora-hunters are notoriously fixated and he looked bat-crap crazy so I was not surprised when he didn’t even respond.

Note:  Cruel Wife may comment that he didn’t look all that crazy to her but I know… I KNOW… that he was a loon.  I know it.  I know these things.


I try to teach the kids funny things while on these drives.  Latin.  Space stuff.  Biology.  Whatever random sh*t my brain spits out as it gets that huge rush from my first fevered gulps of Red Bull™.   “Hey, kids!  LOOK!   BOVINES!”  And the kids usually oblige by going “MOOOOOOOO!”

And we traveled through the list of things I knew:  Felines, canines, ursines, equines, murines, etc.

At some point I ran out of “-ines” and mentally went full-on, a hardcore OCD binge, wracking my brain for more.  And one just popped into my head.   Quinines.

I turned to Cruel Wife and said “Can you picture vast herds of Quinines running across the landscape?”

A good G&T was one of our shared favorite drinks, and she said “Yes, grazing on forests of Juniper.”

“And limes,” I added.

With a bit of thought I suggested that perhaps in one of the enormous seven stomachs of the Quinines they fermented the juniper berries.  In some universe God may have tweaked things, or will tweak, or is at this moment tweaking something to allow for something exactly like that or darned similar.  These kinds of thoughts do lull me to sleep in the wee hours of the morning.

All in all it was a strange morning.  And the kids thought we were loons, but mention vast herds of anything and they dig it.  Especially if we’re talking about vast herds of tofudebeests – I like to tell stories about dragging a tofudebeest down with one’s teeth.  The slow ones can’t survive – it’s a law of nature.  Nature sure is a legalistic bitch sometimes.

Visions of gin and tonics continue to dance in my head.


Good news.  The doc said last Friday that yes, while I still do have pain in my neck even six months later I should continue to be patient.  I asked him how the x-rays looked.  He said “Excellent.  The bones are fusing perfectly.”

His contention was that it probably wouldn’t be for the best for me to start biking again if it meant drop bars, and to instead use a mountain bike style conveyance.  I’m thinking of a recumbent 3-wheeler, honestly.  But those are expensive so it might be a while.

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Circular Narcissism


Rock paper scissors lizard Spock.  Big Bang Theory, I thank you.  I never would have been geek enough to learn that one.


Circular narcissism is the phrase for today.

Your government is in love with itself and The State willing, everyone will be following the recommendations of the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation, which funded the Rand Corporation to do an 18 month study on whether your eating establishments meet government guidelines.  It’s a pretty fair bet that the RWJF is left-leaning given how much money they give to NPR.  You don’t donate money to your ideological opposites.  Why can I safely say that the NPR is liberal?  Here’s why.  The circular narcissism will make you upchuck in your shorts.  (many thanks to Halfmanhalfamazing)   Hey, that reminds me – IS there any liberal media bias?

So what happens with stuff like RWJF/Rand publications?  Why, they get used to help guide policy.  That is, they get used to run your life for you.

Conclusions The paper provides a comprehensive view of chain restaurant menu nutrition prior to nationwide labelling laws. It offers baseline data to evaluate how restaurants respond after laws are implemented.

Narcissism.  I still haven’t linked that up circularly yet, have I?

People like Michelle Obama see where people (you the taxpayer) need to be taught the error of their ways.  Funding is given to those groups who share a desire to see their plans implemented.  Those groups do studies showing “proof” that their assertions are indeed correct.  Politicians use that information to further their goals and satisfy their pet agendas.  And it’s just a huge bunch of folks loving themselves for all their philanthropic works of fiction.

So let’s say one of your favorite restaurants doesn’t fit the standard.  What happens then?  Are they punished by the government?  Are they told to degrease and desist?  Are they shut down?  What if I want fatty flavorful food?  Do I get a say in this?  What if I like all the components of my McGangbang™ sandwich just the way they are?

For the sandwich, go here, and scroll down to “The McGangBang” – I show it here for your convenience, but there are many other foods for losers at that link… enjoy.

You take an ordinary McDouble off the dollar menu

 then you take an ordinary McChicken off the dollar menu

and you shove the McChicken inside the McDouble. Right in between the patties, just wedge that McChicken in there, so you have one tall super sandwich for just a few bucks. Get an order of fries because we all die in the end anyway.


I think one could say that our president loves people loving him.  That’s why this picture, sent to me by The Dude has to be one of the best presidential mockeries I’ve seen this week – it is NSFW, people.  Stroke it gently with the mouse pointer and click and it will get bigger.

It’s no worse than what Time published last week, what with a breastfeeding toddler.

Far better to be tasteful like Nabisco in Korea – thank you Gawker.com for the article.

Nabisco, you ought to just fess up and admit that you thought boobies and cookies sounded great together.

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Ferd Limpy turns 18 at the end of this month. While finishing high school and playing Ultimate Pocket Pool on weekends, he’s also suing the federal government in U.S. District Court in Washington, D.C.

The Hellhole Palms, California, teen and four other juvenile plaintiffs want government officials to do more to prevent the risks of climate change — the dangerous storms, heat waves, rising sea levels, and food-supply disruptions that scientists warn will threaten their generation absent a major turnabout in global energy policy. Specifically, the students are demanding that the U.S. government start reducing national emissions of carbon dioxide by at least six percent per year beginning in 2013 and provide immunity from potential punishments for “Senior Skip Day” at HP High.

“I think a lot of young people realize that this is an urgent time, and that we’re not going to solve this problem just by riding our bikes more,” Limpy said between deep swallows from his mother’s breast.

Limpy drifted off to sleep in his mother’s lap, punctuating the moment with a loud fart and a deceptively small burp.  For lack of anything relevant to say, Mrs. Limpy stated that he and she needed some more “bonding time” because her baby was so stressed out by his concern over daily temperature swings.

The interview was cut short when Mrs. Limpy was engrossed in changing Ferd’s Depends™, saying “This is SO much harder to do when he’s got wood.”   A follow-up interview was hastily not arranged.

Ok, seriously though… Nearly the same damn thing really did happen.  Only the nursing and diaper changing likely only happens emotionally.   The kid and his little friends really do care about the environment and are totally committed to it, which is kind of sad since they haven’t got enough real-life experience to even feel passionate about anything for real yet.  These kids are going to have an interesting time when they see the schism between college (basically “high school” extended by four more years at a much higher cost) and the real world, which isn’t going to really give a rat’s ass about the self-centered little brat and his frivolous lawsuits.

Apologies if that seemed a lot cynical.  I’m in a mood.

But this is serious stuff, really.

This Friday, U.S. District Court Judge Robert L. Wilkins, an Obama appointee, will hear arguments on the defendants’ motion to dismiss the complaint.

[ The court is the United States District Court for the District of Columbia in case they didn’t see that important enough to mention, which they didn’t.  – LK ]

While skeptics may view the case as little more than a publicity stunt, its implications have been serious enough to attract the time and resources of major industry leaders. Last month, Judge. Wilkins granted a motion to intervene in the case by the National Association of Manufacturers, joined by Delta Construction Company, Dalton Trucking Inc., Southern California Contractors Association, and the California Dump Truck Owners Association.

“At issue is whether a small group of individuals and environmental organizations can dictate through private tort litigation the economic, energy, and environmental policies of the entire nation,” wrote National Association of Manufacturers spokesman Jeff Ostermeyer in an email. Granting the plaintiffs’ demands, he added, “would carry serious and immediate consequences for industrial and economic productivity — increasing manufacturing and transportation costs and decreasing global competitiveness.” The manufacturers’ legal brief says the restrictions being sought “could substantially eliminate the use of conventional energy in this country.” It also argues that the plaintiffs haven’t proved they have a legal right to sue.

Cruel Wife wondered if someone was *gasp* … using… these kids for their agenda.  Well, that just doesn’t seem right.  Let’s see here…  oh.  Oh.  Oh, ok.  Remember how I said the kids don’t really have enough life experience yet?  Well, apparently some see that as great, because it makes for tools that earnestly believe what they are saying, even if it is bullshit, and that really sells well.

While teenagers serve as the public face of the lawsuit, the idea itself came from Julia Olson, an attorney based in Eugene, Oregon. Olson founded an organization called Our Children’s Trust after watching the Al Gore documentary An Inconvenient Truth while she was seven months pregnant.


Olson and other supporters of the suit believe that having kids as plaintiffs makes a particularly visceral appeal to adults to take action. Indeed, many of the adults involved said that their own children and grandchildren had inspired them. “Becoming a grandfather motivated me to speak out,” said climate scientist James Hansen, the director of the U.S. NASA Goddard Space Institute and the man who first brought Loorz and Olson together. Hansen, in his free time, is a conscientious objector to U.S. energy policy who has been arrested three times at peaceful protests.

In support of the children’s suit, Hansen has drawn up recommendations as to how the U.S. government can meet the greenhouse-gas reduction goals, through cuts in fossil-fuel-powered electricity and reforestation. “My talents are mainly in the sciences,” he said, “but it just became so clear that no one is doing anything to prevent what is becoming scientifically a very clear picture. I didn’t want my grandchildren to say that “Opa” (Dutch for “grandpa”) knew what was happening but didn’t do anything about it.”

There, SOYLENT GREEN, if you haven’t run with that tidbit (Hansen using kids to do his dirty work), would you, please?


Being born-again linked to more brain atrophy.

Whoa.  Say that again?

Being born-again linked to more brain atrophy.

According to the study, people who said they were a “born-again” Protestant or Catholic, or conversely, those who had no religious affiliation, had more hippocampal shrinkage (or “atrophy”) compared to people who identified themselves as Protestants, but not born-again.

The study is published online in PLoS ONE.

Oh, well, then.  We all know PLoS ONE is a fine upstanding… newspaper?  Magazine?  Proceeding?  Flyer?  Writing on a bathroom wall?

Well it must be valid research because after all, they published it, right?

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Bubba-Ho-Tep.  The Man with the Screaming BrainAlien InvasionBurn NoticeEvil Dead (1, 2, and 3 – AKA “Army of Darkness“).  My Name is Bruce.  And many others.

It doesn’t matter what the genre, I have liked pretty nearly every damn thing Bruce Campbell has done.  He really gained my respect when he had “Bruce” shot on his property in southern Oregon.  And they built a town there to film the movie.  He’s one of a few actors I’d find it a real pleasure to meet because he has no problem mocking himself.

And now, Briscoe County, Junior.  Somehow I missed it in the craziness of the 90’s.

I managed to pick up a copy for dirt cheap.  199o’s western-ey, sciencey, steampunk-ey… but classic Bruce Campbell.  If you like him and haven’t seen it, do so.

Problem is… teensy problem but still real…

I rely heavily on closed-captions.  The DVD set does not have closed captions.  In english, anyhow.

So I am making do by having the French subtitles turned on and translating on the fly – how is that for peculiar in the US, hmmm?  This works pretty well but it is a real bitch when something doesn’t translate well, or when the sentence structure is totally rearranged, or I have no freakin’ clue what the word evenis.  But on the other hand, there are moments when it’s actually funnier in french.  Such as when one character is referring to this chick’s ass, coming across the word “haunch” just cracks me up.  Why?  Just the word.  Say it over and over again while picturing a well-formed tush and leg and it just sounds funny.

Oh hell, if you don’t already see the humor in it, I’m never going to convince you.

At least the subtitles aren’t in German.


I don’t know many (straight) men that don’t like a good hooter, but there’s just something wrong with the folks at Time Rag-azine.  Yes, breast-feeding is a perfectly normal healthy thing to do and it’s even good for infants, too.

But 6-7 year olds?  Christ on a crutch, people.  I don’t think that’s photoshopped.  I think that kid really is latched on to that teat.  And he’s probably messed up for life.  If you’re old enough to ask for it by name you should be cut off until you’re of dating age.

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The Balls of a Tiger.

I don’t feel I need to say much here other than that the guy is a hero, has the balls of a tiger, and deserves some serious public recognition.

Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.  John 15:13

So, here it is…

A New Jersey roofer jumped into a vat of nitric acid solution to save a co-worker who had fallen 40 feet into the tank, fire officials said.

Rob Nuckols, 51, was working on the ground floor Monday morning at Swepco Tube LLC when his colleague Martin Davis plunged through a roof and into the vat of diluted acid and became fully submerged, officials said.

He jumped into the vat and was waist-high while he and three others pulled Davis out… [the] vat contained a 40 to 70 percent nitric acid solution used for cleaning metal tubing.

Rescue workers arrived after five minutes… Nuckols had already rinsed himself off.

Davis is in critical condition with a broken rib, punctured lung, and burns on his legs and side, a relative said.

Nuckols was treated for burns on his legs and abdomen. The three other roofers were taken to hospitals but there was no sign that they were seriously injured.

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A UN investigator has called on the US to give back land to native Americans.

Yes, some awful crappy things were done to indians in the formative years of the US.  It was a raw deal.

When all the countries of the UN give back land that they obtained from people that had it before them, I will then consider the notion.  And I’ll still probably laugh myself silly.

Anaya said Rosebud is an example where returning land taken by the US government could improve a tribe’s fortunes as well as contribute to a “process of reconciliation”.

Process of reconciliation?

Yeah, sort of like how affirmative action was going to fix everything?

Last month, the US justice and interior departments announced a $1 billion settlement over nearly 56 million acres of Indian land held in trust by Washington but exploited by commercial interests for timber, farming, mining and other uses with little benefit to the tribes.

The attorney general, Eric Holder, said the settlement “fairly and honourably resolves historical grievances over the accounting and management of tribal trust funds, trust lands and other non-monetary trust resources that, for far too long, have been a source of conflict between Indian tribes and the United States.”

But Anaya said that was only a step in the right direction.

It’s always only a step in the right direction.

“These are important steps but we’re talking about mismanagement by the government of assets that were left to indigenous peoples,” he said. “This money for the insults on top of the injury. It’s not money for the initial problem itself, which is the taking of vast territories. This is very important and I think the administration should be commended for moving forward to settle these claims but there are these deeper issues that need to be addressed.”

READ:  Until someone gives us a sh*tload of land with lots and lots and lots of mineral resources and then pays us for all the wealth that was already taken out of the ground, we can’t move forward and begin to come together and heal.

Here’s a deeper issue to address… how about the rampant drug and alcohol problem?  I’ve found that once those get cleaned up life gets immeasurably easier.

Yeah, they’ve caught a lot of sh*tty deals.  It’s true.  At what point though, do you sober up, pick up your testicles that the cocker spaniel is gnawing on, cauterize them back on, and go out there and get a real job with real degees and take over your life.  Be a man.

Klamath region in Oregon gave lots of money to the Klamath Tribe and there were accounts of guys buying a new rig, getting liquored up, crashing the new rig, buying  a new truck that same night and crashing it, too, for a second DUI.

Repeat after me – giving a society free money when they have not fixed the problems that really drug their society down in the first place is a waste of money.

More on this later.

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Cruel Wife and Lemurita are out camping on one of those “wimmin only” outings so it is just myself and HackerBoy.

We got a large pizza last night – I ate half and he ate all of the other half minus one slice.

He taught me how to play Skylander™.  He’s too nice of a kid to say it to me but I know he’s come to the conclusion that I suck.  I know this because we met with Spaced Diode today and he said “Dad sucks at Skylander™”.


HackerBoy suggested on the way home that he maybe he ought to teach me “Lego Indiana Jones” because it is easier.  Double-ouch.  My son thinks that as far as video games go I’m on par with a retarded puppy.

Tonight, corn dog bites, tater tots, and chocolate pudding.  Man food.

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This is one of those brain metaphor things, where what I’m thinking is not going to be properly captured by writing without lots of trimming and re-reading so I’m going to fine-tune it throughout the evening.  Think of this one as a work-in-progress and don’t leap to judgment – ask me if something seems wrong-headed.  I’m known to **** things up at times.  Yes, it’s happened once or twice.

I listen to Michael Savage’s show as I drive home on some nights.  Honestly, some nights he just irritates the hell out of me because he’s got an even bigger ego than I do.

He had Jeff Kuhner guest-hosting last night and Kuhner was doing a big buildup to (savaging) Obama’s upcoming speech from Afghanistan.  Kuhner is just not my favorite radio host.  He has some fawning-over-Savage behaviors that annoy the hell out of me and actually make me embarrassed for him.  And while it is his right and his job to voice his opinion, he said a few things that were troubling.  Maybe I feel different about the subject matter now that it is a year later and am going to contradict what I said then.  I went back through old posts and didn’t find anything along the lines of tonight’s critique (I’m not fond of hypocrisy and hate it in myself) and so I’m cautiously venturing an opinion on this.

First, Kuhner was supportive of the notion that we should all have been dancing in the streets when Osama bin Laden was killed and made mention of people at ball games and other events cheering and dancing and drinking.

Isn’t that awful reminiscent of the Palestinians dancing in the street on 9/11 and Iraqis abusing and burning the bodies of four American contractors and then hanging them up in 2004?  Should we be publiclygleeful?  Or, upon news of the death of a vermin like ObL should we say in a very statesmanlike way “About time, good riddance, you evil pox on humanity”?

Do you see the difference?  I went out and bought two different newspapers the day ObL was erased.  Did I dance in the street and fire weapons in the air?  Uh, no.  Was I satisfied that the guy who purposely targeted innocent people was terminated with prejudice?  Yes.  Yes, I was.  Immensely satisfied, because a form of justice had been done.  There can be no denying that I thought it was fitting that his last moments were in fear.

Maybe it’s just a matter of decorum.  I don’t much care for Occupy idiots who get all hippy-dippy and love themselves when they crap in the street like they’re entitled in some way to act in that manner.  Tea Party folks on the other hand have been well-mannered and self-policing to a much higher degree.  Their relative actions speak for themselves even if many thumbsuckers and fence-sitters seem unable to rationally work through those stark differences.  Think of it as the contrast between receiving a kindergarden diploma vs. finishing a real degree, summa cum laude.  I don’t think I can stress that enough.

Second, Kuhner heaped scorn and coals on Obama for his personal acceptance of our troop’s heavy lifting as his own accomplishment in getting rid of ObL.  I agree with Kuhner, scorn and coals should be heaped on Obama’s head.  But then Kuhner said our soldiers deserve the public recognition and praise.

Well, look… if our SEALS were the type of guys that needed to be in the spotlight I truly doubt they’d be there in the first place.  I imagine that something as simple as a “Thank you for what you did” from their CiC and knowing that there are Americans who appreciate them would be adequate.  They did a good job.  There were some scary moments and they lost a helicopter but they went in – mission accomplished.  And the SEALS – as one – are perfectly within their rights to be pissed with Obama for his peacock strutting while he sat there looking like a proud toddler who has just had a bowel movement in a real potty.  The guy is nowhere near leadership material, the Democrat’s ludicrous ad with Bill Clinton’s glowing praise be damned.

But do the special ops guys want a ticker-tape parade and medals and real public recognition?  I’m kind of thinking not.  They are selected for their expertise in not being seen and getting sh*t done when no one else can do it – because you’ve done a good job when no one has noticed you were there while you were doing what you did.   Yes, we have other special forces that are as capable, and it is not my point to elevate one over another, because all of our special forces and armed forces deserve a lot of respect.

I’ve mentioned this before but I make it a point to try to say to every veteran I run into, at least once in my crossing paths with them, “Thanks.  Really.”  I made it a point to turn to my dad and say exactly that once I was old enough that there was no denying that I could only mean it because it stemmed from thought and experience, and sincere appreciation.  And I always mean it and I hope to hell it says enough.  I was a proud daddy when my little girl (Lemurita) went out in the 4th of July parade to personally thank one of the vets marching down the street.  I’d like to think it made his day, too.  I think it did.

I’m babbling.  It’s the hangover from the dry-erase marker sniffing all day, I’m sure.


One would think Stoaty at sweasel.com must’ve done this.  She’d do this kind of awesome.  But no, this was from the 50’s.  Fun to look at them, and scary.

Even the “Weasels Ripped My Flesh” line at the bottom smacks of Stoaty but it isn’t her.  Wow.

I found it because of Brockway at Cracked-dot-com.  Damn them.

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Tomorrow night I’ve got things to say about Obama’s delusion of godhood as evidenced by his speech tonight.  And I have a few comments on some remarks made by Jeff Kuhner while he filled in on The Savage Nation tonight.  His remarks are his opinions and he has a right to them, but I’m troubled by a few things he said. 

But for now, I’m posting what I started last night and slumped over in the middle of.  Yes, it’s philosophical and I’m probably so full of sh*t that I squeak when turning corners.  If that sort of thing bothers you, go read something on Drudge.

You follow this blog any length of time and you realize that I’m weirded out by the idea of teleportation.  Are you the same person you were when you went in or not?

Well, the idea that came to me the other day really screws with my brain.  I probably heard it from someone else and forgot where.  It’s exceedingly rare for anyone to come up with a new idea so I think it is ridiculous to believe that I did in this instance.  The genesis of this line of thinking is no longer in my data banks, is all I’m saying.

You sleep every day, right?  Sometimes more, sometimes less, and the quality can vary (me, it goes between crap and mega-crap).

But if you stop and think about it, for that period the conscious you is no longer you.  “You” don’t exist.

And it is these “While you were out” moments that bother me.  No, I can’t explain it any better than I can explain away a debilitating fear of spiders or fear of bad mayo when there’s no mayo within five miles.  Perhaps a relative was killed by a marauding mayo packet when I was a kid or something.

We live our lives with a constant narrative where we build up the world in our heads, and concepts and thoughts aren’t really language as much as metaphor and our brains trick us into thinking that we just worked through something in an actual language.  Go ahead, picture running down to the store for a six-pack of Dr. Pepper and a steak.  Did you really just use the words “Yep, there I am driving to the store, purchasing sugary products for an obscene amount of money, and there I go, off to select a part of a bovine that looks delicious”?

No.  You thought and then pictured the act complete with all of the nuances and feelings that make it an experience unique to you.  In other words, good luck explaining to someone every last detail of how the thought of such an act seems to you when you imagine it – the feeling, the steps, the way you picture the lighting, the feel of the car seat, the exemplar of the classic squeaky-wheeled cart, the wrinkles in the fabric where the word “Juicy” is spelled on some chick’s butt, and the smell of the seafood display.  When you picture that complex notion, it is like a faceted gem with many thousands of facets, and only you can see every facet of the metaphor as you spin it in your head.  No one else in the world sees anything more than a 2-D projection of that faceted metaphorical gem of… uh…  metaphor… that is in your head.  Maybe they might see several if you are a good writer or talk a lot, and they care enough to try, but that’s about it.  For example, they will never know the full shape of the metaphor in your head when you picture how you feel when a dog snarls and barks right next to you.  We are born alone, live alone, and die alone –  that is, when you talk in terms of total understanding of a concept between people.

You do this  for the huge portion of your day, and your reality was formed out of that running narrative of metaphor.  Then you go to sleep and reality collapses like a wavefunction between that moment and the next morning when you reboot.  And you start a new narrative that might have recycled some of the previous day if your ocytocins were elevated, or perhaps it is a totally warpy/woofy world metaphor after all that stuff was partially sent through a biological wood chipper called dreaming while you slept, or perhaps it is totally subsumed upon waking if you have a newfound case of transient global amnesia or diarrhea.  But most normally it is not something that radical.  It’s the world around you that presents new information and you recycle the code (Object-Oriented-Metaphor alert) from the previous day and you build new things in your head.  It’s exactly like K’nex only incredibly complex and totally different.

But you are really the operating system that the metaphor objects are constructed and destructed in… inheritance, polymorphism, subclassing.  It all happens there, while you are doing brain things inside your head, nonstop and over and over.

My point is, when the metaphor that defines “now” goes away, and your consciousness re-sets it, when you wake up are you any longer you?  Seriously, it’s sh*t like this that troubles me at times.  Yes, I know the argument “Well, obviously you’ve gone to sleep and woken thousands and thousands of times and it made no difference”.  Well, is that true?  Would you know?  Probably not, given the sense of humor in this perverse universe God set in motion.

Must go find some more dry-erase markers – I am running low and these don’t have nearly the fumes I require.


Ok, now go to this Cracked.com article and look up #4… “Hallucinate Like You Just Took LSD, Legally”

There’s a quote from Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn by Tad Williams – where a character notes that in the name of knowledge an evil priest pursued intellectual avenues (and magical) that essentially twisted him by exposing him to malevolent powers, and he pronounces such methods as very unwise as basically it is:

…throwing your door open and letting whatever evil passes by to come in.

Well, I think there are instances where you can know that your brain ought not have control of you.  You might not know why but you still might know that it’s just not something you want to f*** with.  In sharp contrast with my high-school and college days I now have a deeper understanding of my brain and do not want to give up even the tiniest grip I have on reality.  Hey, maybe it’s as safe as hits of nitrous oxide from a hefty bag but why take a chance if you have any doubts?

I’m curious though, and if you are inquisitive enough try the method above, let me know how it goes, m’kay?

A good friend (The Butcher of Lansing) told me once:

The mind is like a bad neighborhood – you don’t want to go in there alone.

He’s a schmot guy.


This is a totally random thought but it occurred to me that I really don’t like the notion of “tropes”.  It strikes me as a vehicle to be as cynical as you want, about anything, no excuses.

That should be reserved for blogs.

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