The C. S . Lewis one hit home: this morning my beloved told me it was time to register for Pennsic and my response was, “Oh, they’ve decided we aren’t unclean because we supposed Trump?” One guy I like pulled the, “I used to respect you. Now that I know you support Trump I can’t respect you, ” crap on my beloved and I hadn’t realized I was still carrying that grudge.
Camp is supposed to be apolitical and I don’t want to be the one to break the rule. So back to prayer time.
They don’t see themselves as leftists. They seem themselves as compassionate, sensitive people who don’t wish to offend. And they live in the Northeastern bubble that believes they are the truly brave people who see what’s going on.
There are conservatives/non-leftists there, but they are likely to keep a low profile.
More than you would think, given the number who seem to actually study history. Was kind of depressing, when I realized that so many people I was friends with turned out to be screeching nutbars.One of them DID manage to shift my wife’s opinion somewhat, though. The friend was one of those who said, “All men are bad! Except my husband. He’s one of the good ones.” Then she belatedly included me as one of the good ones. When I pointed out the blaring hypocrisy to my wife, she actually was able to see it.
And it’s been going on longer than many people think; there’s a pretty substantial overlap with the filk community, and by 2003 it was getting obvious.
You know, there’s forgiveness, but also there’s giving away the store.
If SCA really -is- supposed to be apolitical, then let he who cast the first stone come and admit his transgression. But they don’t do that. What they do is play political games behind your back and quietly ease you out of the club while they -pretend- to be apolitical.
Because they’re caring, compassionate people who only want what’s best for Humaniteee…
That’s why Lefties run the SCA. They never forgive, they never forget, and they wear their piety like armor.
The household has had a largely honored “no politics,” rule. But covid and the “$%@@ pronouns thing hit about the same time.
The SCA has always attracted an assortment of romantics, Odds and misfits. It made them extra vulnerable to emotional manipulation. And now I’m afraid it’s going to be a purely Boomer phenomenon and die put when we do. Which is a shame.
No, Bernie, that wasn’t a ‘best-seller’, you got a multi-$million advance for a book nobody wanted read. I doubt more than a hundred copies were ever actually sold, for real dollars. You just got money laundered through a publisher.
While the Reader never gave his son a beer, he did rub the gums of said son with bourbon during teething. It worked better than any of the OTC ointments.
Yeah, my ideas of what to do with friends do not scale well to 30 million, and I would have no idea.
My ideas of what to do with money scale better, but still no certainty on whether I would know what to do with millions of dollars. I mean, I might not run out before I become too infirm to work, and it might not be wasted, but I do not want to raise tens of millions in investment dollars, because I have few ideas on how to obtain returns at that scale. (At least not on my own. Working with the right people, I might be able to identify something. Forcasting business now is chaos for me, so it would probably be after whatever is going to happen now with Trump and Musk.)
Emily freedom: The joke is that it could still be slightly JRPG style, if she she wears a summer or winter kimono, or if it is a traveling festival (which is slightly unusual but actually possible for American traditions), or if the English grammar is ever so slightly off at times.
If I owned a bookstore, either the selection would be boring, or I would have trouble stocking it, or it would go out of business.
Yeah, my dumb posts are pretty frequent.
Akshully, summary execution is due process. You see, by January 12th, 2021, a majority of law schools established that they think they can use their alumni to improperly manipulate outcomes in the formal legal system. So we can entertain the hypothetical that a majority of existing judges are engaged in a long term criminal conspiracy, and that eighty to one hundred forty years of precedent have been improperly manipulated to incorrectly restrict capital punishment. Now, the UCMJ may restrict the use of summary executions on criminal alien border crossers, but the jurisdiction is fairly limited, it only covers organizations with people who are veterans, or who are working with American military, it does not cover the whole of the unorganized militia. What law does cover the whole of the American unorganized militia? There’s a natural law argumetn that we inherit Roman military law. In which case, unorganized militia have the right and responsibility to execute such criminal aliens. And, see one of Lincoln’s speeches to congress. Totes for sure would be the correctly established case law for such circumstances as we are in. Therefore, we are under martial law under the unorganized militia, and shooting criminal aliens out of hand is due process.
if it is a traveling festival (which is slightly unusual but actually possible for American traditions),
We usually call them “the county fair” rather than “traveling festivals”, and the kind of people who work therein aren’t necessarily the kind of people you want staying in your town for longer than necessary, so it’s just as well they have some other county’s fair to be at the next weekend.
The closest to the intent is probably the “Art & Wine” circuit, with traveling sellers renting tents and shuttling their stuff from one place to the next over the selling season. Smaller jewelers do a lot of their business at these out here. The vendors I have chatted with say the travel is a grind: unpack, do the show, pack, hit the road every few weekends across the spring and summer months.
I could see a tentative romantic-intent invite to one of those.
On the other hand up until a few years ago the Gilroy Garlic Festival was a major thing, with many thousands of people going over the weekend. Gone now, but maybe that’s what they were thinking.
I once told a friend I had a dream about owning a used bookstore. She said that it would fail because I would never want to sell any of them. I already have everything I need, and there is not much more that I want (although sometime I would like to get my boyhood dream of a model train set). I am retired and older and want to enjoy things money can’t buy.
Ah, see, how you get around that is don’t have a bookstore (… well, maybe some of the books – the replaceable ones – could be for sale), you have a Reading Room. A private, non-lending library that people can peruse for a fee, or a membership.
That’s what I want to do. I’d have a couple extra possibly revenue generating things in as well, like… I dunno, drafting lessons? Architectural model making supplies? Part-time home design services?
“You sits, I fits! You laps, my naps! No walkies, sitten down nao!” said the orange fuzzmonster. When it’s writing time, it’s catnapping time. I sit, he snuggles up. Type, tap, delete, cuss. Scritch behind the ears. Tippity type some more. The chapter is about forty percent in the bag, more or less. The rest is to be hammered out. Hopefully it won’t suck too bad. This is a transition chapter, potentially a book transition one. That means it needs to be tight, clean, and focused. These things do not describe it, currently.
None of this is the Doofus’s problem, though. He wants his napping spot secure and not pacing around, cussing about words. He’s been bathed, brushed, and looks exceedingly proud of his orangeness. There was chicken in the pot, hot chicken in his bowl, and the day looks to be almost purrfect. If only the hooman would settle down for a bit!
Nastycat has caught a case of the gallumping crazies. He’s been zooming about the yard, practicing his stick-fu, and scaring the burbs away. Neighborcat doesn’t mind. He’s been culling the local RLF faction with professionalism and exacting precision. Nearly twenty squirrels so far this early spring have given up the good fight and become fertilizer for the kill ditch in the back.
One of the linemen asked me about it once. It’s about twelve feet long, three feet deep, with a bank of loose clay on one side.
“What’s with the hole? You burying something?” asked the lineman with the Yankee accent.
“Yep. That’s for the kills the cat brings in.”
“You need a, what, twelve foot ditch for that?”
Cue neighborcat bringing up the shredded remains of a bat.
“Yep.” Scritch the ears. Pick up the kill, pitch it in the ditch. Throw some dirt on it.
“Huh. How often does he do that?”
“Every day. More often in the warmer months.”
It’s easier to just throw the corpses in, toss some dirt on it, and backfill every so often. Neighborcat never misses a day. When I’m out of town for a day or two, there’s a pile of grisly trophies pile up by the back door, and one proud looking feline waiting for his scritches when I back in. He never cheats on the rent. Some days, I think he’s trying to get ahead.
Othercat has been visiting his lady love more often of late. The both of them are both to be fixed, but I don’t think either cares. There’s already been one miracle litter out of those two. I wouldn’t be surprised if it happened again. They run all around the yard across the way, and sometimes come back here to visit. Nieghborcat doesn’t care, but Nastycat is wary of this intrusion of feline femininity into the boy’s club.
Nasty hides up in the eaves when she comes by, and won’t come out till she leaves. Heave knows she’s not been hostile to him that I’ve ever seen. But our voidfuzz is a weird one. He loves his pink dino, respects his fuzzy brothers, and tolerates his hooman. And of course, his forbidden love, the grease trap. Can’t forget that one.
Nastycat had to have a bath his own self, too, here recently. It was the grease again. He sulks afterwards, exhausted and sleepy but unhappy. Cuddled up with his dino, still damp but tuckered out, he sneaks upstairs to the cushion by the window to sleep away the indignation.
Life with the fuzzy brothers from different mothers proceeds apace. Spring has sproinged. The pollen nation has invaded, and its yellow cloud of chemical warfare has the hooman populace under a toxic cloud of AUGH and coughins. The writer grumbles and cusses his way through the pages. And the orange fuzzmonster got his naps in on the laps.
Y’all keep on keepin’ on out there. Whether spring augh or feline consternation, keep on truckin. Whatever task that’s in front of you, take it in small bites. Chew slowly and thoroughly. Then bite it again, as Doofus would say. Never let a meal get the best of you.
Melania might have something to say about that one…. Bishops aren’t allowed to be married.
And he hasn’t actually converted yet. “Almost” is a long way from “all the way.”
Also he’s not a cardinal. Although arguably the cardinals could override the current rules, they have to swear to uphold the current rules to get into the conclave. So that’s not going to happen.
He’s not going to get elected to a 3rd term either. That doesn’t mean he can’t talk about it, which serves just as well to driving the Democrat Party, Socialist Left into an even greater mindless frenzy. While they are screeching about that, he’s busy planning his next move. (Although I’d really like him to start pushing legislation through to back up those EOs.)
Technically, unicorns are in the Bible. So are bicorns. The latter is later mapped to the kind of rhinocerous that has a big horn and a smaller horn behind it. So that joke about unicorns being chubby and gray? It’s accurate. They’re single-horned rhinocerous.
Technically, only the non-avian dinosaurs are extinct.
Birds are maniraptoral theropod dinosaurs — and in fact the dinosaur clade is often described in terms of the last common ancestor of Triceratops and modern birds, and all descendants thereof, extant and extinct.
I recognize Hillary and Obama in the pictures of “who should JD Vance visit next”, but I’m not sure of the other two. But I would definitely want one of them to be George Soros.
Our lovely leather sofa is now got multiple puddles of dog drool. Our son’s dog but living with us. He has decided my lap is acceptable….which is a mixed blessing since he weighs 55 pounds. Given the dog drool I am so glad he’s had his rabies shot.
That your 55 lb doggo wants to be a lapdog isn’t unusual. Every dog over 35 lbs wants to be a lapdog and will lovingly sleep on your lap or next to you on the sofa. Every dog smaller than 30 lbs believes he or she is Simba of the Jungle, and can patrol the perimeter of you property and keep out intruders five times his size.
After two 75 lb Dobermans and one 65 lb Belgian Malinois, a 30 lb Fox Terrier and a 25 lb Malti-poo, I can attest to this fact with full confidence.
So let me see if I have this correct; the same people who are pushing to block sunlight in order to “cool the earth” are the same people demanding we build massive solar panel farms in order to use sunlight to generate electricity.
Apparently none of them saw the B-movie Neon City (with a pre-Buffy Juliet Landeau among other cast members).. because the whole using chemicals to block the sun really worked out well there. Oh wait…they did see it, and saw the results as a feature instead of a bug.
Umm; let’s let them run some models to model the last, oh, hundred years. Let them use real numbers, at the start. Let them run their models until they converge to the recorded numbers—*all* the temperature numbers, not cherry picked ones. Then let them come back to us; then we’ll see.
Otherwise, you figure out how to cool your country and leave mind alone or you might find out just how good our defense contractors are when they put their minds to it.
An issue is that even optimal curve fits in data range, can be expected to be way off model outside of the data range. Not, are mathematically certain to be off model, but a lot of the ways to fit curves are pretty wild outside of the data range.
The ensembling method they are using is one where any individual failure to predict is not a problem, and where it is normal for a lot of models to be somewhat wrong. The issue is that they apparently do not know when it breaks, and the basic idea of it should break as you scale it up in time, space, or energy. About 3 or 4 meters to my right, I don’t know what the air is doing. Far away, my vision is obscured, and it could be averaging 2 inches a minute in /any/ direction for all I know. But, there are definitely energy levels where I would notice something.
If a planet has been unexploded for a thousand or a million years, one forecast is that it is unlikely to explode. Obviously, this is a method that does not work for rare events that we can still be confident might happen. Machines fail pretty routinely, and after you build the machine, after it passes the start of the bathtub curve it can have been a while since the previous break down. If you start measuring ‘no break downs in X hours’ after that point…
It is fairly common for large groups of people to lie, or to speak falsehood.
It is very common for groups of scientists to be wrong. This is a basic property of the forecast that scientists in a field develop better answers over time. Which forecast is certainly not always true, fields of scholarship can actually get worse over time.
Academics deciding they are really angry and think mass murder is a good idea is actually pretty frequent, going by the last hundred years.
And I think that academia in America is captured by congressional funding, and also that parts of congress were pretty clearly contracting out domestic terrorism to the universities.
But what do I know? I’m biased, and I have an axe to grind. Also, I am clearly handling stress and health issues a bit poorly.
“The journey is never linear.” I’ve made a few leather necklaces decorated with knots like that. The trick is getting them spaced exactly where you want when you’ve pulled the ends tight. ;-)
“Friends with benefits.” Couldn’t afford a friend with a bookstore, but a friend with a lending library? We’d be bestest friends for life, for sure!!
In a few weeks I shall have my own fuzz-monster, and I’m freaking out about it. I haven’t had a cat since the last one died in 2016 at the age of 25. She’s a tiny Vortex of Evil (black, black eyes) and she’s supposed to be my new barn cat. No tail, so I suspect she’s part Manx. I have never had a barn cat, and there are rat snakes, and I have chickens, and the neighbor has a massive dog…
According To Hoyt 
SFBS! (and First! if someone didn’t comment while I typed this!)
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The C. S . Lewis one hit home: this morning my beloved told me it was time to register for Pennsic and my response was, “Oh, they’ve decided we aren’t unclean because we supposed Trump?” One guy I like pulled the, “I used to respect you. Now that I know you support Trump I can’t respect you, ” crap on my beloved and I hadn’t realized I was still carrying that grudge.
Camp is supposed to be apolitical and I don’t want to be the one to break the rule. So back to prayer time.
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Forgive, as we would be forgiven.
Harder than I thought.
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It’s just so hard to tell the difference between “flipping tables” and “Father, forgive them”. You know, as a weak and fallible human and all.
Most times I settle for the compromise of shaking the dust off my feet.
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The problem there is that eventually you run out of places to go after the shaking.
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So, lots of leftists at Pennsic and the SCA in general?
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The they/thems are all but running the place.
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They don’t see themselves as leftists. They seem themselves as compassionate, sensitive people who don’t wish to offend. And they live in the Northeastern bubble that believes they are the truly brave people who see what’s going on.
There are conservatives/non-leftists there, but they are likely to keep a low profile.
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More than you would think, given the number who seem to actually study history. Was kind of depressing, when I realized that so many people I was friends with turned out to be screeching nutbars.One of them DID manage to shift my wife’s opinion somewhat, though. The friend was one of those who said, “All men are bad! Except my husband. He’s one of the good ones.” Then she belatedly included me as one of the good ones. When I pointed out the blaring hypocrisy to my wife, she actually was able to see it.
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And it’s been going on longer than many people think; there’s a pretty substantial overlap with the filk community, and by 2003 it was getting obvious.
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Heck, in SF/F circles it was obvious late nineties.
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Well, it was founded by child molestors.
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This is why the younger kid and DIL aren’t going.
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This is why it’s good to be Southern. “Bless your heart” cover so, so many expletives.
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You know, there’s forgiveness, but also there’s giving away the store.
If SCA really -is- supposed to be apolitical, then let he who cast the first stone come and admit his transgression. But they don’t do that. What they do is play political games behind your back and quietly ease you out of the club while they -pretend- to be apolitical.
Because they’re caring, compassionate people who only want what’s best for Humaniteee…
That’s why Lefties run the SCA. They never forgive, they never forget, and they wear their piety like armor.
Pray for rain, Dorothy. >:D
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The household has had a largely honored “no politics,” rule. But covid and the “$%@@ pronouns thing hit about the same time.
The SCA has always attracted an assortment of romantics, Odds and misfits. It made them extra vulnerable to emotional manipulation. And now I’m afraid it’s going to be a purely Boomer phenomenon and die put when we do. Which is a shame.
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Good question. Why are all these members of Congress rich? Must be the books they write and the speeches they give and so forth.
Also, the deer one is hilarious!
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“How did I become a millionaire? I wrote a best-selling book. You want to become a millionaire, you write a best-selling book too.”
Actual Bernie Sanders quote.
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No, Bernie, that wasn’t a ‘best-seller’, you got a multi-$million advance for a book nobody wanted read. I doubt more than a hundred copies were ever actually sold, for real dollars. You just got money laundered through a publisher.
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Hence why I said “actual quote”. The sheer gall of the gaslighting.
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“How did I as ‘The Big Guy’ become a multi-millionaire? My wife, Doctor Jill. is very frugal with the egg money.”
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S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y … MEME!
(grin)
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C4C
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Sarah, where did you get that photo of Orvan? [Crazy Grin]
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I do NOT wear a lead-by-the-nose ring.
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Now. [Wink]
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While the Reader never gave his son a beer, he did rub the gums of said son with bourbon during teething. It worked better than any of the OTC ointments.
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My parents used peppermint schnapps.
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Dollop of honey cut with whiskey. Worked.
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Crete is full of cretins. Is this a drawback or a plus for a call center?
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Yes.
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Depends whether you want to save money or give good service.
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Yeah, my ideas of what to do with friends do not scale well to 30 million, and I would have no idea.
My ideas of what to do with money scale better, but still no certainty on whether I would know what to do with millions of dollars. I mean, I might not run out before I become too infirm to work, and it might not be wasted, but I do not want to raise tens of millions in investment dollars, because I have few ideas on how to obtain returns at that scale. (At least not on my own. Working with the right people, I might be able to identify something. Forcasting business now is chaos for me, so it would probably be after whatever is going to happen now with Trump and Musk.)
Emily freedom: The joke is that it could still be slightly JRPG style, if she she wears a summer or winter kimono, or if it is a traveling festival (which is slightly unusual but actually possible for American traditions), or if the English grammar is ever so slightly off at times.
If I owned a bookstore, either the selection would be boring, or I would have trouble stocking it, or it would go out of business.
Yeah, my dumb posts are pretty frequent.
Akshully, summary execution is due process. You see, by January 12th, 2021, a majority of law schools established that they think they can use their alumni to improperly manipulate outcomes in the formal legal system. So we can entertain the hypothetical that a majority of existing judges are engaged in a long term criminal conspiracy, and that eighty to one hundred forty years of precedent have been improperly manipulated to incorrectly restrict capital punishment. Now, the UCMJ may restrict the use of summary executions on criminal alien border crossers, but the jurisdiction is fairly limited, it only covers organizations with people who are veterans, or who are working with American military, it does not cover the whole of the unorganized militia. What law does cover the whole of the American unorganized militia? There’s a natural law argumetn that we inherit Roman military law. In which case, unorganized militia have the right and responsibility to execute such criminal aliens. And, see one of Lincoln’s speeches to congress. Totes for sure would be the correctly established case law for such circumstances as we are in. Therefore, we are under martial law under the unorganized militia, and shooting criminal aliens out of hand is due process.
Checkmate Dems.
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Rant deleted. Start me not on “due process”. Grrr.
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if it is a traveling festival (which is slightly unusual but actually possible for American traditions),
We usually call them “the county fair” rather than “traveling festivals”, and the kind of people who work therein aren’t necessarily the kind of people you want staying in your town for longer than necessary, so it’s just as well they have some other county’s fair to be at the next weekend.
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The closest to the intent is probably the “Art & Wine” circuit, with traveling sellers renting tents and shuttling their stuff from one place to the next over the selling season. Smaller jewelers do a lot of their business at these out here. The vendors I have chatted with say the travel is a grind: unpack, do the show, pack, hit the road every few weekends across the spring and summer months.
I could see a tentative romantic-intent invite to one of those.
But a hamburger festival? Hmmm…
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On the other hand up until a few years ago the Gilroy Garlic Festival was a major thing, with many thousands of people going over the weekend. Gone now, but maybe that’s what they were thinking.
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I once told a friend I had a dream about owning a used bookstore. She said that it would fail because I would never want to sell any of them. I already have everything I need, and there is not much more that I want (although sometime I would like to get my boyhood dream of a model train set). I am retired and older and want to enjoy things money can’t buy.
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Ah, see, how you get around that is don’t have a bookstore (… well, maybe some of the books – the replaceable ones – could be for sale), you have a Reading Room. A private, non-lending library that people can peruse for a fee, or a membership.
That’s what I want to do. I’d have a couple extra possibly revenue generating things in as well, like… I dunno, drafting lessons? Architectural model making supplies? Part-time home design services?
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The battery one is a bit too true. Especially after three tornado warnings in one night. (All missed, but … Spring on the plains.)
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🍵
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Remo Vance. Although I am pretty sure that Usha would not appreciate having Master Chiun in the house.
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Catten reporten/ writedit shenanigans.
“You sits, I fits! You laps, my naps! No walkies, sitten down nao!” said the orange fuzzmonster. When it’s writing time, it’s catnapping time. I sit, he snuggles up. Type, tap, delete, cuss. Scritch behind the ears. Tippity type some more. The chapter is about forty percent in the bag, more or less. The rest is to be hammered out. Hopefully it won’t suck too bad. This is a transition chapter, potentially a book transition one. That means it needs to be tight, clean, and focused. These things do not describe it, currently.
None of this is the Doofus’s problem, though. He wants his napping spot secure and not pacing around, cussing about words. He’s been bathed, brushed, and looks exceedingly proud of his orangeness. There was chicken in the pot, hot chicken in his bowl, and the day looks to be almost purrfect. If only the hooman would settle down for a bit!
Nastycat has caught a case of the gallumping crazies. He’s been zooming about the yard, practicing his stick-fu, and scaring the burbs away. Neighborcat doesn’t mind. He’s been culling the local RLF faction with professionalism and exacting precision. Nearly twenty squirrels so far this early spring have given up the good fight and become fertilizer for the kill ditch in the back.
One of the linemen asked me about it once. It’s about twelve feet long, three feet deep, with a bank of loose clay on one side.
“What’s with the hole? You burying something?” asked the lineman with the Yankee accent.
“Yep. That’s for the kills the cat brings in.”
“You need a, what, twelve foot ditch for that?”
Cue neighborcat bringing up the shredded remains of a bat.
“Yep.” Scritch the ears. Pick up the kill, pitch it in the ditch. Throw some dirt on it.
“Huh. How often does he do that?”
“Every day. More often in the warmer months.”
It’s easier to just throw the corpses in, toss some dirt on it, and backfill every so often. Neighborcat never misses a day. When I’m out of town for a day or two, there’s a pile of grisly trophies pile up by the back door, and one proud looking feline waiting for his scritches when I back in. He never cheats on the rent. Some days, I think he’s trying to get ahead.
Othercat has been visiting his lady love more often of late. The both of them are both to be fixed, but I don’t think either cares. There’s already been one miracle litter out of those two. I wouldn’t be surprised if it happened again. They run all around the yard across the way, and sometimes come back here to visit. Nieghborcat doesn’t care, but Nastycat is wary of this intrusion of feline femininity into the boy’s club.
Nasty hides up in the eaves when she comes by, and won’t come out till she leaves. Heave knows she’s not been hostile to him that I’ve ever seen. But our voidfuzz is a weird one. He loves his pink dino, respects his fuzzy brothers, and tolerates his hooman. And of course, his forbidden love, the grease trap. Can’t forget that one.
Nastycat had to have a bath his own self, too, here recently. It was the grease again. He sulks afterwards, exhausted and sleepy but unhappy. Cuddled up with his dino, still damp but tuckered out, he sneaks upstairs to the cushion by the window to sleep away the indignation.
Life with the fuzzy brothers from different mothers proceeds apace. Spring has sproinged. The pollen nation has invaded, and its yellow cloud of chemical warfare has the hooman populace under a toxic cloud of AUGH and coughins. The writer grumbles and cusses his way through the pages. And the orange fuzzmonster got his naps in on the laps.
Y’all keep on keepin’ on out there. Whether spring augh or feline consternation, keep on truckin. Whatever task that’s in front of you, take it in small bites. Chew slowly and thoroughly. Then bite it again, as Doofus would say. Never let a meal get the best of you.
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I swear these are the highlight of my MONTH.
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Love the cat updates.
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Most of these are from the weekly Granite Grok memes.
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Melania might have something to say about that one…. Bishops aren’t allowed to be married.
And he hasn’t actually converted yet. “Almost” is a long way from “all the way.”
Also he’s not a cardinal. Although arguably the cardinals could override the current rules, they have to swear to uphold the current rules to get into the conclave. So that’s not going to happen.
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Hey Now!
It’s not nice to ruin a joke by bringing facts into play! [Very Big Twisted Grin]
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He’s not going to get elected to a 3rd term either. That doesn’t mean he can’t talk about it, which serves just as well to driving the Democrat Party, Socialist Left into an even greater mindless frenzy. While they are screeching about that, he’s busy planning his next move. (Although I’d really like him to start pushing legislation through to back up those EOs.)
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Well, technically, we’re still paying him; but he’s donating all of it to charity.
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And the doggone Congress refuses to do the nothing we pay them for, insisting on meddling where they know less than nothing.
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3 of those things only exist in fantasy. The 4th one is extinct.
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Technically, unicorns are in the Bible. So are bicorns. The latter is later mapped to the kind of rhinocerous that has a big horn and a smaller horn behind it. So that joke about unicorns being chubby and gray? It’s accurate. They’re single-horned rhinocerous.
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Technically, only the non-avian dinosaurs are extinct.
Birds are maniraptoral theropod dinosaurs — and in fact the dinosaur clade is often described in terms of the last common ancestor of Triceratops and modern birds, and all descendants thereof, extant and extinct.
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I read that as Birds are maniacal theropod dinosaurs.
Change my mind.
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I seem to recall you referring to chickens as ‘little beady-eyed psychopaths’ :-D
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We raised chickens when I was little….
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And you survived!
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Barely. My family didn’t realize I was allergic to feathers….
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“Let them eat bugs.” :-(
And fly coach.
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I recognize Hillary and Obama in the pictures of “who should JD Vance visit next”, but I’m not sure of the other two. But I would definitely want one of them to be George Soros.
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Top left: MaligNancy. Bottom left: that is Soros.
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One of them is.
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A very patient cat, waiting a whole 10 minutes before demanding the food bowl be filled.
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This is cat candidate for sainthood — says she whose cat is demanding she hold his paw to show she loves him.
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Our lovely leather sofa is now got multiple puddles of dog drool. Our son’s dog but living with us. He has decided my lap is acceptable….which is a mixed blessing since he weighs 55 pounds. Given the dog drool I am so glad he’s had his rabies shot.
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Indy just loves his little tiny paw held….
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That your 55 lb doggo wants to be a lapdog isn’t unusual. Every dog over 35 lbs wants to be a lapdog and will lovingly sleep on your lap or next to you on the sofa. Every dog smaller than 30 lbs believes he or she is Simba of the Jungle, and can patrol the perimeter of you property and keep out intruders five times his size.
After two 75 lb Dobermans and one 65 lb Belgian Malinois, a 30 lb Fox Terrier and a 25 lb Malti-poo, I can attest to this fact with full confidence.
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What I saw when I looked at Mr Nemo: 13 lbs of terrier-poodle mix.
What Mr Nemo saw in the mirror: 1300 lbs of dire wolf.
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So let me see if I have this correct; the same people who are pushing to block sunlight in order to “cool the earth” are the same people demanding we build massive solar panel farms in order to use sunlight to generate electricity.
Apparently none of them saw the B-movie Neon City (with a pre-Buffy Juliet Landeau among other cast members).. because the whole using chemicals to block the sun really worked out well there. Oh wait…they did see it, and saw the results as a feature instead of a bug.
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Umm; let’s let them run some models to model the last, oh, hundred years. Let them use real numbers, at the start. Let them run their models until they converge to the recorded numbers—*all* the temperature numbers, not cherry picked ones. Then let them come back to us; then we’ll see.
Otherwise, you figure out how to cool your country and leave mind alone or you might find out just how good our defense contractors are when they put their minds to it.
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An issue is that even optimal curve fits in data range, can be expected to be way off model outside of the data range. Not, are mathematically certain to be off model, but a lot of the ways to fit curves are pretty wild outside of the data range.
The ensembling method they are using is one where any individual failure to predict is not a problem, and where it is normal for a lot of models to be somewhat wrong. The issue is that they apparently do not know when it breaks, and the basic idea of it should break as you scale it up in time, space, or energy. About 3 or 4 meters to my right, I don’t know what the air is doing. Far away, my vision is obscured, and it could be averaging 2 inches a minute in /any/ direction for all I know. But, there are definitely energy levels where I would notice something.
If a planet has been unexploded for a thousand or a million years, one forecast is that it is unlikely to explode. Obviously, this is a method that does not work for rare events that we can still be confident might happen. Machines fail pretty routinely, and after you build the machine, after it passes the start of the bathtub curve it can have been a while since the previous break down. If you start measuring ‘no break downs in X hours’ after that point…
It is fairly common for large groups of people to lie, or to speak falsehood.
It is very common for groups of scientists to be wrong. This is a basic property of the forecast that scientists in a field develop better answers over time. Which forecast is certainly not always true, fields of scholarship can actually get worse over time.
Academics deciding they are really angry and think mass murder is a good idea is actually pretty frequent, going by the last hundred years.
And I think that academia in America is captured by congressional funding, and also that parts of congress were pretty clearly contracting out domestic terrorism to the universities.
But what do I know? I’m biased, and I have an axe to grind. Also, I am clearly handling stress and health issues a bit poorly.
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I laughed at “Somewhere in Nigeria”. And I can appreciate the overlap between men and women’s fantasies.
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“The journey is never linear.” I’ve made a few leather necklaces decorated with knots like that. The trick is getting them spaced exactly where you want when you’ve pulled the ends tight. ;-)
“Friends with benefits.” Couldn’t afford a friend with a bookstore, but a friend with a lending library? We’d be bestest friends for life, for sure!!
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took me some time to get the
מחומש
one. then it was a name a building not the shape.
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I really hope someone is figuring out what we’re going to do with ourselves. If a robot can do surgery, most of the trades are well within reach.
https://twitchy.com/jacobb/2025/04/27/elon-musk-robots-will-surpass-good-human-surgeons-within-a-few-years-n2411999
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In a few weeks I shall have my own fuzz-monster, and I’m freaking out about it. I haven’t had a cat since the last one died in 2016 at the age of 25. She’s a tiny Vortex of Evil (black, black eyes) and she’s supposed to be my new barn cat. No tail, so I suspect she’s part Manx. I have never had a barn cat, and there are rat snakes, and I have chickens, and the neighbor has a massive dog…
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And…best laid plans. The fuzzy’s mother died, so instead of one 8 week old trained hunter I have two 4 week kittens.
I am certain they will be mighty hunters in time. At the moment they sleep, and eat, and poop, and cry when I’m not there.
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Those are difficult to raise. if you can put them in your shirt? They have trouble regulating body temp.
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For your cat collection
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