I’m desperately trying to work, not that successfully she adds, but I MUST finish novella in Shifters world today, if I want it proof-read at all.

134 thoughts on “Meme-Hectic

    1. If you can find one other person, occasionally, that takes you (person) up to people and thus fulfills the idea.

      I think here counts. 😉

  1. Strange things with weird people . . . Oh, time for a range trip, in other words! Or shopping at the “neat stuff from around the world that is edible but might not taste quite like you expect” grocery store. (Mild curry powder. From Thailand. Mild. “Only fights back a little – won’t kill you.”)

    1. I hate shopping, unless it’s for food, preferably at an ethnic store where the owner speaks with a thick accent. The sweet old Indian man who runs the one closest to my house looks at the ingredients I’ve chosen dubiously and asks, “you know how to cook that?”
      Since his restaurant regularly wins awards, my answer is usually, “Not like you, but yes!”

    2. Even the normal grocery gets weird. I miss the English fish nuggets shaped like fish, but we now have coconut and rompope (eggnog) flavored “bolis”, which are condensed milk “ice cream” pops in plastic bag form.

      Because apparently flavoring and zip lock/sandwich bagging condensed milk, and then freezing it to give to the kids later, is a summer thing in Mexican families.

      I do not know how one is supposed to open these things, except with one’s teeth, but they are tasty. And do not take up much freezer space.

    3. We were invited to a party at a grad student friend of my wife’s from Bangladesh. She had made all sorts of food from the Indian subcontinent. The main dish was a curry of some sort. Two Pots, one made the traditional way one made “Mild like I make it for the children”. I decided that sticking with the “Childrens” pot would be the best no matter how many Szechuan, Thai Chili and Vindaloo dishes I had eaten in my life. It was absolutely delicious. It was also probably the hottest thing I had (or will) ever eaten bar none. I can’t even think what the traditionally prepared pot was like, I’d probably still be regretting it here 35+ years later.

      1. Yeah. There’s a Thai restaurant I went to once, in Illinois, where you can ask them for a spiciness level that varies from 1 to 5. I’ve eaten some spicy food overseas before, so I figured I could handle it, but rather than asking for a 5 straight off I decided to go for a 3 to see what level that was. Then I overheard the ladies in the kitchen speaking to each other, in a language I could recognize as being Thai. I hadn’t placed my order yet, so I immediately switched from a 3 to a 2. Well, that 2 was about as spicy as I could handle and still enjoy the dish. Really glad I didn’t go for the 3, let alone a 5.

        (Other restaurants, though, I’d have ordered the 5 and wished they offered a 6. It all depends.)

        1. Worked with a guy who loved spicy, and would go into our local restaurant and order “Thai Hot”. When it was brought out, half the kitchen staff would be looking out to see who the crazy round-eye was. The rest of us would be moving to another table to escape the pepper spray cloud.

  2. OK, OK, gotta get it done. I’ve been putting off dropping some trees that the snow load has bent down so they’re blocking the trail to my rivershop.

    Zero degrees right now, close to three feet of snow, but OK, I’ll go out and drop them.

    & looking at the bright side, at least the mosquitoes aren’t too bad this time of year!

    1. Good, I’m glad that’s out of the way. The trees, all 30 of them, all at least 18 inches across at the butt end, are dropped, removed and the trail’s clear now!

      OK, regarding the number and the size, a friend and mentor, Mary Lang, taught me many years ago,; never let the truth get in the way of a good story! 😉

      1. “Aww, the skeeters ’round here only carry off a few small children a year. Accounts of them carrying off adults are just shamelessly exaggerated tall tales, and sensible folks don’t pay ’em no mind.”

        1. Well, they don’t carry ’em by themselves. Took about a dozen to fly off with aunt Ellie back in ’76. Found her up a sugar maple about halfway down the creek. Dang skeeters all died off right there- alcohol poisoning.

        1. The carousel was on fire, and it was glorious.

          Richard, bless his heart, was staring at the growing inferno with that look in his eyes. That beautiful spiraling look of mingled horror and awe.


          1. What unnerved Karen was that the arsonist had change the normally whimsical soundtrack to Ratt’s “Round and Round”. It was then she realized that she had FAFO by misusing her power as the Winter Carnival Chairwoman and HOA President.

          2. The carousel blazed with a more than Earthly glow. The smell of soot mingled with sulphur, and the oppressive heat seemed to pulse like a titanic heartbeat.

            As the first fire imp leapt out of the flames, Verne’s aluminum bat was there to meet it. The otherworldly creature crumpled around his weapon like a bug hitting the windscreen of a speeding eighteen wheeler.

            “Imps. That’s not so bad. This might actually be-”

            The tall blonde man’s words were cut off as a deep bellow loud enough to make their ears ring shook the three facing the blazing carnival ride. His two companions looked at him in mute horror.

            They edged slightly away as if to signal to the universe that it was not them that drew the attention of the greater demigod Murphy. A massive hand tipped with cruel black talons slammed down into the asphalt as an even bigger horned head emerged from the flaming children’s ride.

            “Verne, if we survive this, you an’ me are going to have a long talk about taunting the minions of Fate.” Ellis glared at the ogre while he said it, though.

            Frank just slapped Verne on the back of his head. A moment later the three scattered. A fraction of a second after that, a club larger that the three young men put together and likely heavier than both the vehicles they arrived in slammed down.

            “Do you think-” Verne paused as another foghorn roar interrupted him. “-he’s compensating for something?”

            The other two glanced downward in between dodging certain death. Only smooth skin covered the monster’s crotch area. They couldn’t help themselves. They laughed.

            “Closing interdimensional portals is no laughing matter!” A voice called from beyond the firelight. The ogre turned toward the voice. This proved to be a mistake, as it had taken its gaze off the one man wielding cold iron.

            Frank struck the massive ogre in its lower back with his pitchfork. For all that he was six three and every ounce of two-twenty, he didn’t expect the tines to just sink in like it was jello and nearly cut the thing in half.

            None of the three expected it to collapse into orange goo that dropped right onto him, either.

            The carousel collapsed in a shower of sparks moments later. It’s otherworldly beacon gone, no more creatures could come through. All that was left was the cleanup.

            “You know that stuff’s not going to just wash off, right?” An older man emerged from the shadows, smiling at the three boys.

            “Don’t tell me Frank’s going to be orange forever. He’s never going to lose that V card that way!” The man just shook his head at the two. He could recognize the bonding by ball busting that was going on.

            “Not just that. You’ve all been marked by the forces at work this night. You don’t think a portal opening here of all places and tonight of all nights is a coincidence, do you?”

              1. Yep. It’s quick and dirty, and the meet the mentor/loose thread gives the reader a stable, solid place for their own imaginations to fill in the gaps.

                UF is not my wheelhouse, but the tropes are not that hard to pick up. Bit of magic, bit of snark, add some real world-ish drama to complicate things, use fantastic things to simulate normal things and hide that from the reader, callbacks to All The Myths Are True and the really good conspiracy theories.

                Our host here, and Amanda Green off the top of my head write pretty good UF, if that’s more to your taste. My normal playground is SF with occasional dragons and magic.

                1. Fair enough. It certainly hits enough buttons for my mind to jump to that conclusion.

                  As much as I love The Dresden Files, I tend towards High or Dark Fantasy rather than Urban. It tends to annoy me when the protagonist has to deal with rent, work/school, and not letting anyone else in on their secret life (the Masquerade must be preserved!) As previously stated on another post, I read fantasy to get away from all of the dreary real-world stuff (and bland small talk).

                  1. I hear you about “real world” problems “ruining” Urban Fantasy.

                    Unfortunately, I’ve enjoyed Alma Boykin’s Familiar Tales series where the main characters do have to worry about paying rent, keeping their job, purchasing food, dealing with kids (especially teenagers), etc.

                    Of course, they don’t have to worry about the Masquerade per say as magic is known to exist in their world. They do keep their “magic hunter work” low-key for various reasons.

                    1. Careful, it’s seriously engaging. When the TXKitty sends out a new book, it’s pretty much drop everything to read it.

                      Yeah, I’m hooked. 🙂

                  2. Dorothy over at MGC” has a semi adjacent post to that. The thing is, as humans, the dreary real world stuff is in our fantasies and sci fi, as well. And they have to be, because to really get into a story, the reader has to give a sheep.

                    Well, my old teacher didn’t say sheep, but you know what I’m saying. Sometimes authors use the banal as palate cleanser to break up the action, to add character depth, and so on. Others it’s just there to make the setting. You can make your UF be technically so, but without the masquerade. Then you have vampires with day jobs and plumbers that use magic to keep the otherworldly parasites from infesting the sump and electricians that need to worry about aetheric interference.

                    Space waitresses might need to pay their air bills and aliens might have coworkers that just need to die in a fire. Those are easy tricks to play. Everyone eats, everyone works (more or less), and everyone’s had to deal with that annoying old lady at the DMV that takes perverse pleasure in making your day sucky.

                    The setting and the appearance of the characters may change, but the feeling remains the same in the reader’s mind, whether it’s the Department of Motor Vehicles or the Directory of Magical Vulnerabilities. Writers tell a story, but what we call “story” really only happens in the minds of the reader.

                    It takes a human mind to get it, to create the story. Our gestalt consciousness is made up of memory and emotion, our personalities are shaped by those things. Using the familiar, even the annoying, to create the setting and tell the story is not just commonplace, it is necessary.

                    No big deal if UF is not your thing, by the way. De gustibus non disputandum. But this writing gig is made by (almost write “of,” no soylent green here) humans and experience by humans. Good writers write well, great ones steal. And they steal because it’s easy, it works, and making those callbacks to other things can add depth to the work and enjoyment to the reader. Sometimes the tropes are as old as humanity itself.

                    …Where’d that soapbox come from?

                    1. “you have vampires with day jobs and plumbers ”

                      Vampire plumbers who work the nighshift emergency calls but don’t get the after hours pay bonus because that’s when they’d be up an about anyway.

                    2. If we really had different fantasy races, the US would probably treat them like immigrant ethnic groups, and there would be neighborhoods and groceries and churches/parishes.

                      The mermaid neighborhood’s fish market would probably be amazing.

                    3. < “… treat them like immigrant ethnic groups…”

                      Y’know, the similarities between Ankh-Morpork in the Discworld and the USA are interesting. I’m pretty sure it’s deliberate – did someone say Terry Pratchett modeled Ankh-Morpork after New York City?

                    4. Tallinn and central Prague. Elements of 18th century London, 19th century Seattle, and modern New York City, plus Renaissance Florence.

      1. “The carousel was on fire. The horses seemed to dance with the flickers of flame. Then one tossed its head. Golden sparks flew from the wooden mane. Another horse reared high. It turned toward Ian and left the ring of fire with steady steps. A second, then third horse flowed down from the platform and came closer to him. A great stallion with golden hoofs and blazing eyes led the small herd.

        Beside him, Doug gulped. “Another horse, fiery red, went out,” he whispered, voice shaking. “To take peace from the earth. The horse of war.”

        “Yes,” the crimson stallion said as it stamped the ground. “The time is at hand. Take up your sword and ride with us.”

        1. Oh. Oh, that’s well done. Definitely feels epic, and rightfully so.

          I meant to write more on my above snippet, but clicked Post early. It works pretty well on its own, though.

          1. Judicious use of cliffhangery elements is totally fine. Honest. Just don’t, y’know, make cliffhangers every other chapter. ‘Cuz that’s probably bad.

            (my readers might forgive me. Someday).

        2. The two kirin stood staring at the conflagration of human blasphemy.

          ‘Such disrespect will no longer be tolerated’ roared the elder, above the sound of the flames.

  3. The worst part about all those useless facts is every once in a while, one of them turns out to be not so useless after all. And you never know which one it’s going to be until then.
    Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!!

    1. Analogous to all the “junk” accumulated in the garage. But, unlike the garage junk, you can’t just throw away those “useless” facts and discover the next day thta you need them.

  4. Some poor person had to actually watch Biden’s mumbling in order to complete this bingo card:

    1. At this point, having an AI sexbot would be safer than a wife in most urban areas of the US.

      Especially if I can get the combat augment packages for them (A, B, and C-specs, of course).

      1. I know all the cool kids slag on marriage, but the sell-by date on that stuff was old before the Boomers couldn’t deny they were old anymore.

        Which, incidentally, is the demographic doing most of the divorcing…..

        1. I’m not slagging on marriage. I’d love to be married.

          I just look at the women that I would get married to around here and the odds that said marriage would result in a divorce…

          1. Even assuming divorce is “unsafe”– that still high-end estimates out at less than one in four.

            (about 20%, stats are a little messed up by immigration and being recorded in multiple locations)

            Nobody gets married to the broad demographic, they marry a specific person, and I know way too many folks whose lives have been blighted by the twin claims that “half” of all marriages end in divorce (at one point, kind of, if you ignored sampling issues) or “everybody knows” claims about divorce agreements.

            1. And how many of those folk are serial divorcers?

              I mean, I have a friend whose fellow religionists ragged on her for divorcing until her ex was on wife #3—within three years of their divorce (which was his first marriage.) That’s not why she left that religion, but it certainly didn’t help

              1. That’s the kicker. The divorce numbers don’t often include that particular metric. And that in and of itself is telling of just who is paying for the studies.

                I have great respect for the institution of marriage. It’s where proper families come from, which a great many of us were fortunate to come from, in turn.

              2. About the best number we can get is the community survey, which asks about stats for first marriage, and how many years in it ended. (separate stat for “has not yet ended”)

                Took until I think 35 years to reach something that was almost 50%. And that was only for women. (Ending in death, of course.)

                I think it included currently separated as having ended, but I’m not 100% sure.
                (We’ve all heard my rant about the survey that resulted in my refusing to do any more phone surveys– they were counting “husband is deployed” towards the divorced-or-separated stat.)

              3. Not us. We have a death pact after watching our parents go through a combined 16 marriages.

                Stuck for life baby, stuck for life.

                1. 0.0
                  I’m terrified to ask if one of you two’s dad is named Mikey.

                  (Family friend. Nice guy, but oh my gosh. 9 marriages. Two to the same woman, his favorite ex wife; that one seems to be sticking?)

              4. Well, I’m two for two, and not planning to re-enact the triumph of hope over experience again, because last time I was the one that got strangled at the end.

              5. I know of two people, now married to each other, that are each on their 3rd and 4th marriage respectively.

                Know of others, that while they’ve been married/commitments 3 times but never divorced. This brings up a whole new set of issues (whether married or commitment ceremonies). Have seen some ugly issues. Luckily their respective partners had clear wills and trusts setup, which the surviving partner was not in charge of, still has gotten ugly thanks to their respective partner’s extended family. Ugly enough that my (heaven forbid, thought the odds are I will be the survivor), and mom’s (has happened), thoughts are “hell no”.

              6. Our family’s divorce pattern is patchy. Oldest brother and I are still on first marriages with never-divorced spouses (55 years for him, 21 for me). Middle brother has been divorced three times, currently living with widowed GF, and we’re amazed she hasn’t dumped him.

                The rest of close relatives follow the lack of consistency. Dad’s 2 brothers: one no divorce, one never married. For, Mom’s two sisters, each time #3 lasted. Cousins: vary a bit.

                1. My side of the family doesn’t “do” divorce. They just make their partner miserable until death do they part. I shock my family when I tell them that I genuinely LIKE my husband and enjoy spending time with him. The concept that my husband is also my best friend is alien to them.
                  My husband’s family has more divorces than I can count, except for his parents. They’ve been married for going on six decades, and still adore each other.
                  I find it funny that my family, which frequently talks about the ‘sanctity of marriage’ can’t stand their spouses, but my in-laws, who are in a family with over a dozen divorces to date, are one of the happiest couples I’ve ever seen.

                  1. Yup. Sometimes a marriage is a dreadful mistake. Sometimes you grow apart, or in different directions. In one of RAH’s books, Lazarus Long’s mother Maureen Smith said something to the effect that “The marriage was already dead, and a dead marriage is like a stinky dead fish. All you can do is dispose of it efficiently.”

                    Many, many years ago I watched ‘David And Bathsheba’ and my take-away was, “One little divorce would have solved most of their problems.” And made it a much shorter movie.

                    I wonder, how many murders have been committed over the last 2,000 years because of ’til death do you part’?

              1. I know you’ve run into those “men’s rights” twits where you can’t tell if they are deliberately trying to mirror the most evil “feminists”, are false flag fakers, or are actually so incredibly nonsense soaked that they think any kind of other human being needing to be considered is an inherently evil and/or bad thing.
                (Well, if it’s them doing the considering; everyone else, of course, is morally required to do what they want.)

                Then there’s the formally-dissolve-an-actually-abusive-relationship angle, as well. (More common in non-marriages, but not unheard.) Those have the advantage of, as another Hun already mentioned, actually being physically unsafe to be in.

                And I’m sure there’s at least a half-dozen other possible meanings.

      2. Totally agree with you… as a wife. Who no longer lives in an urban area. There are some good ones out there, but most are taken and the rest are scarce. By the time you hit a certain age, the vast majority of the available ones not only have issues, they have entire subscriptions…

        Then it becomes a matter of finding a compatible crazy. Which is not, and never has been, safe. It’s sometimes do-able, but takes far more work, blood, sweat, and tears as you both have to work past old damage while also working forward toward a life together as a whole greater than the sum of its parts.

          1. Some more than others. Mine is still a work in progress, but after all these years, we’ve worn our rough spots down into smooth interlocking bits pretty well. The first few years, it was a good thing that we both agreed shotgun was an option, but divorce wasn’t, but now with we’re running like a well-broken-in 1911 that’s had some attention from a good gunsmith.

            1. One character (in Alma’s Familiar Tales universe) would think “divorce no, murder yes” (because divorce lawyers cost money). [Crazy Grin]

              Of course, while she threated her husband and sons (don’t remember if she threated her daughter), nobody expected her to follow through.

              On the other hand, she still alive. [Big Crazy Grin]

              1. I’ve used that line many, many times in the past 32 years of my marriage.
                “I’d never divorce my husband.
                Kill him? Maybe.
                Divorce him? Never.”

            2. “…we’re running like a well-broken-in 1911 that’s had some attention from a good gunsmith.”

              🙂 Only here, or a very few other places, could one find that particular analogy used by the female half of the team. Love it; salud!

            3. Oh boy. You know where my mind went with gun oil, and chambering bullets, don’t you? Maybe I should get elected to the U.S. Senate. Polite society would probably die if I walked into one of their parties.

  5. Kind of like cleaning out the kitchen junk drawer just before you find that thing you have been looking for the missing part for the last 9 years…
    Okay I am good for last minute proofreading and edits if you run out of other peoples’ time at the last minute. I presented/defended my capstone on April Fool’s Day 2020, with flying colors, if that stands as a reference! Hang in there, and I will send good thoughts to your cats.

    1. squints

      To the left or the right of me? ‘Cuz I see me in there, too. Probably in the background of the burning carousel, trying to hide the gas can and spent matches, most like.

            1. I think an old female dragon with a bad cold might argue about “which is more of a bother” with a phoenix with sneezes, but I’m not going to get between them or near them when they have that argument. 😈

  6. When you proof-read a piece, how many pounds of pressure must it survive?

    (Not the writer, the written piece.)

    Or is it ‘how big a bullet must it shrug off’? Or maybe it’s the ‘burn or no burn’ method, somewhat difficult with digital copies, but 57.15% ABV does improve some things.

    Like some writers, after making deadline!

  7. The ectoplasmic form shimmered in the light of the burning carousel; the flames licked the trail of accelerant leading to Sleeping Beauty’s castle. Soon the flames would spread to the rest of Fantasyland and beyond.

    The spirit of Walter Elias Disney bent its head in sorrow, but without regret. His dream had fallen to greed and wokeness many years ago. It was time to destroy the empire.

        1. Insert old family joke about the ghost of Walt going after Joe Rohde’s* earrings with a pair of pliers.

          hipster Imagineer, long on imagination and short on engineering, who’s responsible for some embarrassing shortcomings of the Yeti coaster in Animal Kingdom, and possible for using a tesla coil for lightning effects on the now dismantled Maelstrom ride. (Never clear on whether it broke down or the lawyers got wind of it.)

  8. I reblogged that first one to my FB House Projects album with the caption “… And only require one trip to Home Depot.”

  9. I can’t add to the burning carousel, but…
    Usually, Karla wouldn’t have bothered the white-haired woman knitting on the front porch of Lambeth Hall. It was a warm, sunny day and on a normal day the rocking chairs would be semi-full of people enjoying it. But today wasn’t normal, and Karla was just about at her wit’s end.
    “You’ve got to get inside, ma’am!” she said. “Can’t you hear the sirens?”
    The bamboo needles clicked one more time and the woman looked up. “Of course.”
    “Well, I know they must have told you what that meant when you arrived for your retreat! The news has been saying for days the Isam might break through, and now it’s saying one might land here! Come on, you’ve got to get inside!”
    The old- Karla blinked. The woman wasn’t old, she realized: the hair had misled her. And it wasn’t really white, more the color of ivory, braided and coiled at the back of her head. The face beneath the hair was…ageless, not old, not truly young, with light green eyes flecked with gold. The woman reached out a gloved -gloved?- hand and patted Karla’s arm.
    “Not, “might,” I’m afraid,” she said, and her voice shifted. The faint Southern accent was still there, but the tone deepened and there was a hint of music in it. “Will. Soon. So I’d suggest you head for the shelter now. I’m needed here.”
    “No, you can’t stay here, it’s not safe.” Karla grabbed for the other’s hand. If she had to drag her inside, she-
    The hand just wasn’t there. Instead it was wrapped around Karla’s right wrist. And it didn’t move a bit for all Karla’s pulling and jerking.
    “That’s enough.”
    Karla looked up as the woman stood, and was surprised by how far she had to look. The woman was at least six feet tall. She smiled down at Karla, amused and somehow sad all at once.
    A low hum came from overhead and a sleek blue and silver carrier sank onto the driveway in front of them. As the doors slid open Karla could see a dozen men in gray looking back at her. And as they did a dozen figures dropped down from -well, presumably from the balconies. Figures that glittered even in the shade of the porch and carried…swords?
    The gloved hand on her wrist vanished in a flash of light and one more armored figures pulled Karla forward to the door of the carrier.
    “Given how close the Isam is she’s probably safer with you at this point than trying to get to shelter.” The woman said. “Besides, I think she might qualify. She’s certainly stubborn enough.”
    “Considered for what?” Karla asked even as the woman pushed her into the carrier and the doors closed. As they did, the armored figures stepped into the sunlight and leapt into the sky. The carrier followed.
    Karla finally realized just who -or at least what – she’d been talking and sat down on the only vacant seat, hard. ” We’ve had a group of Crystal Warriors on a retreat?”
    The man next to her grinned. “Sure. Why not? And now you get to see them in action.” He pointed to the seat belts. “So buckle up, bubi. Buckle up.”
    (Yes, I have trouble with profanity. Sue me).

  10. As the carousel burned furiously, the young troubleshooter apprentice said to his tac-officer “It’s not my fault…”

  11. This was recommended by some fans of Gerard Vanderleun’s blog, and I thought it might amuse all y’all.
    The original has about 5 links per stanza.

    May 5, 2006 The [Linknotated] Law of the Blogger

    NOW this is the Law of the Blogger – as old and as true as the sky;
    And the blogger that keeps it may prosper , but the blogger that breaks it must die.

    Like the visits that pump up your hit count , Blogger Law runneth forward and back —
    For the strength of all blogs is the Blogger that never cuts anyone slack.

    Blog daily from news tip and hat-tip; blog long , but blog not too deep, ;
    And remember the Pundit’s for linking, and forget not that he has to sleep.

    The new blog may free flame the Bozos, but, Cub, when thy archives have grown,
    Remember the Big Blogs are hunters — go forth and make Scoops of Thine Own.

    Keep peace with the Lords of the Blogsphere — the Pundit , the Malkin, The Bear;
    And trouble not Lileks the Bleater , but always mock Kos in his lair.

    When Pack meets with Pack in the Blogsphere , and neither will put down the flame,
    Lie down till the Spewers have Blathered — it always will save you from shame.

    When ye flame on a Prince of the Pack , ye must fight him alone and afar,
    Lest others take part in the Blog-Pile , and all Blogs be diminished by War .

    The URL of the Blogger’s his refuge, and where he has made him his home,
    Not even the Pundit may post, not even the Hewitt may come.

    The URL of the Blogger’s his Castle , but when he has blown it too plain,
    The Lileks shall send him a Fisking , and so he shall blow it again.

    If ye post after midnight , be patient , and wait for the next working day.
    Your readers are reading from cube farms and commenting only for play.

    Ye may post for yourself , or your country, blog your cats if you must, and ye can;
    But post not for the pleasure of Flaming lest you be but a flash in your pan!

    If ye plunder a post from a weaker, remember to link for his pride;
    Link-Right is the right of the smaller; if you’re wrong it’ll be him that lied.

    Now these are the Laws of the Blogger, and as true and as blue as the sky;
    You can link , you can wink , you can blather , but in the end you can’t lie.

  12. “Picture if you will,” the narrator starts in his best Rod Serling voice, “a small country, aligned with greater nations, preparing to attack and invade a neighbor.”

    “Now imagine the station master of a train station near the border, a man longing for freedom he didn’t have for his children. He sees the orders for troop trains, trains carrying tanks, artillery, trucks and other war materials. Without a word to his colleagues, he goes home that evening and instucts his wife to sell everything she can for gold and be ready to bug out.”

    “The next day, he calls in sick. And his wife, 4 sons, and 2 daughters sneak across the frontier into the neighboring country ahead of the attack, making it to the furthest point.”

    “They all survive the war and many of them and their children move to America…”

    Doesn’t that sound like it would make a great novel?

    Toss in a romance where one of the girls marries a creep who abandons her with two babies and she meets, beyond all hope, his high school boyfriend (during the war working for the attacked country’s ‘CIA’), who marries her and has two more children.

    Got your interest?

    Well, sadly, I don’t have the skill to do it justice, about half of the folks are still alive, and they might be ticked if the story was too accurate; but, I’d be glad to help someone else write it, as long as there weren’t any long drawn out scenes of voluntary body functions…

  13. As the carousel burst into bright burning flames which engulfing the Tea Cups and Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride on it’s unquenchable flight through the grounds, park designers finally regretted their mad penchant for senseless remakes.

    They never imagined that remaking The Sorcerer’s Apprentice and replacing Mickey Mouse with a girl named Carrie would ever go wrong. But diversity for diversity’s sake had finally caught up with them.

  14. Thing that just struck me, the leftists irritate me severely because they blame us for events that only happened in their heads, and then talk past the sale to get us to act like their fabrications were real. The constant “Why don’t you condemn so-and-so beating his wife?” when the thing being described as a beating not only was not, but never even happened either.

    And enough people just accept at least one layer of false premises that it feels like the entire world becomes a box of Jehovah’s Witnesses on a mission to inform you of today’s Word.

    I did two things I should probably never do in the same weekend: installed a new version of Windows and read an analysis of a bunch of Obama’s interviews.

    Would you like to know how to reduce your carbon footprint? Windows can show you the way! (Note: Windows cannot show you how to change what the power button does. That apparently now requires memorizing command line instructions to access. I also managed to break the Documents folder… )

    And while I largely agree with the assessment of the great ‘O’s brand of paranoid optimism, I did find myself irritated that the author seems to have either missed, or not addressed that most of what the big O was complaining about were events that only happened in the fever-dreams of leftists, not reality.

    1. “I did two things I should probably never do in the same weekend: installed a new version of Windows and read an analysis of a bunch of Obama’s interviews.”

      I installed Linux on an old laptop and started analyzing Pfizer documents. Unlike Windows, it only took 20 minutes to get a productive Linux workstation.

      1. True, but then I’d probably have to figure out how to recompile HTC’s Vive software, as well as building new interfaces to replace the Windows speech recognition engine.

        The windows install is primarily for gaming, and the structures are dicey enough without adding yet another translation layer on top of it.

      1. Yeah, that’s what I expected too, but it seems to be hidden in Power Settings in the base Settings app.

        Fortunately, there seems to be a way to make a folder that lists every setting. Google Windows 11 god mode for the exact string to make it.

  15. Do strange things with weird people?

    But… I already come here and hang out with you guys. What more do you want from me?

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