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"A rolling stone gathers no moss."- Publilius Syrus

Would my currently unknown reader or readers from Runnymeade in Georgia please contact me at vanderleun@gmail.com. I need to confirm your address (which shall not be revealed here) before I ship a package.

gerardvanderleun : March 28, 17  | PermaLink: Permalink

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Grace Notes

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Empty is only the warp of our tapestry,
part of our pattern, is only the interval,
only the silence that shapes our pale music
remembered when drifting from dreams
in that sleep-darkened tent
where our souls slake their thirst
for the new, for the novel,
and the stone still rolls
down the thousand-year cliff,
to the doorsteps of dream, the red heat of the plains,
the search for safe shelter, the consuming of carrion,
the spotted flicker in the grass that cannot be the wind,
the million year from the hand ax to atom.

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gerardvanderleun : March 26, 17  |  Your Say (4)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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Intellectually Insane

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[Sigh: It's that time again. The global dementia continues. The good news is that most of the Earth missed it this time around as the boredom increases.]

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The Eiffel Tower before and during Earth Hour in Paris, France on March 28, 2009.

It looked as if a night of dark intent
Was coming, and not only a night, an age.
Someone had better be prepared for rage.
There would be more than ocean-water broken
Before God's last Put out the Light was spoken.

-- Robert Frost, "Once By The Pacific"

In 1914 Sir Edward Grey said to a friend one evening just before the outbreak of the First World War, as he watched the lights being lit on the street below his office: "The lamps are going out all over Europe; we shall not see them lit again in our lifetime."

In that instance, it was the Great War that loomed. Now the Great Forgetting looms and, from time to time, it washes across the world. "Earth Hour" is such a dark moment as millions either choose to, or thanks to their compliant or complacent local governments suffer through, an hour in the dark.

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Vanderleun : March 25, 17  |  Your Say (39)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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Heav'n from all creatures hides the book of fate,
All but the page prescrib'd, their present state:
From brutes what men, from men what spirits know:
Or who could suffer being here below?
The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed today,
Had he thy reason, would he skip and play?
Pleas'd to the last, he crops the flow'ry food,
And licks the hand just rais'd to shed his blood.
Oh blindness to the future! kindly giv'n,
That each may fill the circle mark'd by Heav'n:
Who sees with equal eye, as God of all,
A hero perish, or a sparrow fall,
Atoms or systems into ruin hurl'd,
And now a bubble burst, and now a world.

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An Essay on Man: Epistle I by Alexander Pope

gerardvanderleun : March 24, 17  |  Your Say (1)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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TerrorWar

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London calling to the faraway towns
Now war is declared and battle come down
London calling to the underworld
Come out of the cupboard, you boys and girls
London calling, now don't look to us
Phony Beatlemania has bitten the dust
London calling, see we ain't got no swing
'Cept for the ring of that truncheon thing

The ice age is coming, the sun is zooming in
Meltdown expected, the wheat is growin' thin
Engines stop running, but I have no fear
'Cause London is drowning, and I, I live by the river

- - London Calling, The Clash

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gerardvanderleun : March 24, 17  |  Your Say (6)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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Please....

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gerardvanderleun : March 24, 17  |  Your Say (1)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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Today is National Puppy Day - The Atlantic

Hey, every day is National Puppy Day!

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gerardvanderleun : March 23, 17  |  Your Say (3)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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[ Excerpts from Reaction by Katie Hopkins on the London terror attack ]

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This is us now.

This is our country now.

This is what we have become.

To this, we have been reduced.

Because all the while those forgiving fools in Brussels stood with their stupid hands raised in hearts to the sky, another mischief was in the making. More death was in the pipeline.

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As the last life-blood of a police officer ran out across the cobbles, the attacker was being stretchered away in an attempt to save his life.

London is a city so desperate to be seen as tolerant, no news of the injured was released. No clue about who was safe or not.

Liberals convince themselves multiculturalism works because we all die together, too.

An entire city of monkeys: see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. Blind. Deaf. And dumb.

These people may have left their lands. But they have brought every tension, every conflict, every bit of fight here with them.

The Afghans hate the Somalias who loathe the Eritreans. As it was before, it is now. London is a city of ghettos behind a thin veneer of civility kept polished by a Muslim mayor whose greatest validation is his father's old job.

Son-of-a-bus-driver Sadiq.

I see him now, penning a missive about how London is a beautiful and tolerant city, how we are united by shared values and understanding, and how we will not be cowed by terror.

Sure enough, there he was, saying exactly that, just now. Fool.

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Please, no hashtag, no vigil, no tea lights. I am begging you not to light up Parliament in the colours of the Union.

Because we are not united. We are wrenched asunder.

The patriots of the rest of England versus the liberals in this city. The endless tolerance to those who harm us, (while the Home Office tries to shift the focus of public fear to white terror) — versus the millions like me who face the truth, with worried families and hopeless hearts, who feel the country sinking.

We are taken under the cold water by this heavy right foot in the south, a city of lead, so desperately wedded to the multicultural illusion that it can only fight those who love the country the most, blame those who are most proud to be British, and shout racist at the 52%.

Please, no hashtag, no vigil, no tea lights. I am begging you not to light up Parliament in the colours of the Union.

Because we are not united. We are wrenched asunder.

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The patriots of the rest of England versus the liberals in this city. The endless tolerance to those who harm us, (while the Home Office tries to shift the focus of public fear to white terror) — versus the millions like me who face the truth, with worried families and hopeless hearts, who feel the country sinking.

We are taken under the cold water by this heavy right foot in the south, a city of lead, so desperately wedded to the multicultural illusion that it can only fight those who love the country the most, blame those who are most proud to be British, and shout racist at the 52%.

This is why there is no anger from me this time, no rage. No nod for those who pretend we will not be cowed, even as they rush home to text their mum they are safe. No surprise that the city of which I was so proud is now punctured by fear, and demarcated even more formally by places we cannot tread; there were always parts in which a white woman could not safely walk.

Now I feel only sadness, overwhelming sadness.

I will walk over the river tonight and look to the Thames, to the Union flag lowered at half mast, and the Parliament below, and I will wonder, just how much longer we can go on like this.

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gerardvanderleun : March 23, 17  |  Your Say (16)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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1.
The last sound heard before the silence
Wrapped around my flesh in wisps,
Was the shriek of frozen ambulances
Carved in sharp, revolving red.
Then two holes in my skull sealed shut,
And on my tongue I heard the tang of brass.

At first a ringing whine rose high and faded far,
Then bells began, each dun and laced with smoke,
And merged with walls of wind on water raised,
Bloomed high in white, white only, drifts
Of falling snow that falling softly
Blurred beneath all shapes of sound and speech.

Music's memory remained, and moving lips
Became the only signs of sound that I could see
And all my mind stormed not with silence,
But with dark brushed deep on deeper dark
Within which all stars died, and dying threw
A single trace of song beyond all song.

It moaned and chittered, groaned and sighed.
It grinned at me, inscrutable and blank
As shells evicted by the sea are spurned
By waves and parch above the sand,
Polished first by dust, then honed by rain,
Into white basilicas of bone.

2.
Made new, I loved large gestures.
Marked furrowed face and curl of lip.
Memorized the signing hands that stripped
My half-guessed comprehension bare,
And learned at last to wait upon a glance,
Upon small words scratched on slate.

As days to years enlarged their rule,
All records writ within my skull were smudged,
All songs and music drifted off to send
Pale emblems of their realms as tribute
To that stone that once had formed a throne,
Crowned now with unsensed pleasures shrugged.

All treasure spent, all gems decayed,
All metals melded into dust, all trace of walls
Where once the filigreed firebird sang,
And drums of heroes' skins were stunned,
Were now but shadows strewn as faint
As lines of light on planets seen from space.

And then, with time, all that ... erased,
And sands and seas swarmed over all,
And ruled at last alone a globe of frost,
Of ice, of snow, of sheaves of glass,
Until along that farthest strip of polished shore
One distant crystal glinted, gleamed, and chimed.

Vanderleun : March 21, 17  |  Your Say (36)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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"When we all wish to be victims, there are too few oppressors to go around.

Or perhaps the Boomer generation is going out in a fit of frenzied self-recognition: It enjoyed all that was given to it, did not accomplish much itself, and left a mess to its successors. Its metaphor is California’s Oroville dam: Aging greens believe that it never should have been built; but since it was, it came in handy for the good life; but no one should spend any money on its repair; but when it nearly fails, we were all warned that it was never a good idea. And so no more dams will be built for our children." - - Victor Hanson, Americans Retreat When There’s No Escaping Politics

gerardvanderleun : March 21, 17  |  Your Say (5)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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It is an absolute outrage how so many pampered, affluent, upper-middle-class professional women chronically spout snide anti-male feminist rhetoric, while they remain completely blind to the constant labor and sacrifices going on all around them as working-class men create and maintain the fabulous infrastructure that makes modern life possible in the Western world. Only a tiny number of women want to enter the trades where most of the nitty-gritty physical work is actually going on—plumbing, electricity, construction. Women have played virtually no role in the erection of those magnificent towers in every major city in the world. It’s men who operate the cranes or set the foundations or wash windows on the 85th floor. It’s men who troop out at 2:00 AM during an ice storm to restore power to neighborhoods where falling trees have brought down live wires. It’s men who mix the stinking, toxic cauldrons to spread steaming hot tar on city roofs. Last year in a nearby town, I drove by a huge, chaotic scene where emergency workers in hazmat suits were struggling with a giant pipe break, as raw sewage was pouring into the street. Of course all those workers up to their knees in a torrent of thick brown water were men! I’ve seen figures indicating that 92 per cent of people killed on the job are men—and it’s precisely because men are heroically doing most of the dangerous jobs in modern society.... The bourgeois blindness of feminist leaders to low-status working-class labor by men is morally corrupt! Gay men, on the other hand, have always shown their awed admiration of working-class masculinity and fortitude. It's no coincidence that a buff construction worker in a hard hat was one of the iconic personae of the gay disco group, the Village People, during the Studio 54 era!
Much More at Camille Paglia Discusses Her War on 'Elitist Garbage' and Contemporary Feminism | Broadly
gerardvanderleun : March 20, 17  |  Your Say (2)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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I not only love this rectangle, I used it 14 years ago. Right here.

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UPDATED [as per Eskyman]:

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gerardvanderleun : March 20, 17  |  Your Say (9)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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Chuck Berry's dead. He was 90. Bonne chance at Saint Peter's gate, Chuck, you're going to need it. You were a magnificent mean weird wonderful hack genius AMERICAN.

He was all those things, surely. He wasn't American. He was AMERICAN. Only America could possibly produce him. The rest of the world loved him, as you can see by watching this video from France in 1965. Europe loved him, but they could never cobble a guy like that together. The important part of his career was already over when this video was made, though few knew it at the time, including Chuck. Europe was already an off Broadway production.

Europeans sent us a bronze broad to stand in the granite harbor outside Ellis Island. It was allegedly a gift, but I suspect they sent it so they'd have something familiar to look at after they bolted the doors on their dusty museum of cultures and fled. We sent them Chuck Berry records in return as a way to show them This is how we roll. ..... To Europe, America has always been a bad man. The pecksniff attitude their governments have always heaped on us has a dash of cowardice in it. Chuck was a bad man. It made him all the more American to a toff, I imagine. I don't mean he was a bad man in just the figurative sense, though. Chuck was a real live criminal. If you read Chuck's bios, you're bound to find fans desperately trying to pooh-pooh his criminal background. The gun he used in a carjacking was broken, so it doesn't matter........ RTWT, no, READ THE WHOLE THING AT Sippican Cottage: Chuck Berry Has No Particular Place To Go ... BECAUSE.... Sipp knows.

gerardvanderleun : March 19, 17  |  Your Say (4)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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Thomas Moran, The Mountain of the Holy Cross, 1875 7'x5' Oil

There is a mountain in the distant West
That, sun-defying, in its deep ravines
Displays a cross of snow upon its side.

-- Longfellow, "The Cross of Snow"

The Mountain of the Holy Cross began as a myth and became a rumor. Then it became a report, a photograph, and a painting. In time it became a destination for pilgrims and tourists. Shortly after that it ceased to exist....

In the beginning Americans who heard of, travelled to, and documented the Mountain of the Holy Cross believed in omens, signs and symbols. By the time the sign collapsed and disappeared, those beliefs too were eroded but not lost. We still have the expedition records, the memoirs, the photographs and the paintings and can sense, distantly, what our ancestors felt when first glimpsing this strange vision that could only be see from the east covering a mountainside in the far west.

The sign / vision / illusion (choose which one makes sense to you) is easy to explain. On the stone face of a certain mountain deep in the Colorado Rockies over aeons of time a pattern of cracks and crevasses held against the melting snow -- under ideal conditions and from a certain point of view for 2 to 3 months a year -- a large white cross below its summit. It was one of those natural coincidences where happenstance runs into the human mind in search of meaning. It was seen because it was there on the mountain but its meaning bloomed in the minds of the faithful. To them the sign on the side of the mountain said, among other things, "In hoc signo vinces" ("with this sign you shall conquer"). It was, after all, the era of Manifest Destiny.

Although it was a persistent whisper from the mountain men and others who had pushed deep into the Rockies, the Mountain of the Holy Cross was first written about by Samuel Bowles in his 1869 book, The Switzerland of America. He saw the mountain from Gray's Peak at a distance of about 40 miles:

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Vanderleun : March 19, 17  |  Your Say (26)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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Like a river keeps on rolling
Like the north wind blowing
Don’t it feel good knowing

You find your faith has been lost and shaken
You take back what’s been taken
Get on your knees and dig down deep
You can do what you think is impossible
Keep on believing, don’t give in
It’ll come and make you whole again
It always will, it always does
Love is unstoppable

gerardvanderleun : March 19, 17  |  Your Say (1)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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Oh yeah, it's easy to tie your yoyo string in knots

. The real challenge is to get it untangled without dropping the beat! The European Yoyo Championship was held over the weekend in Bratislava, Slovakia. American Evan Nagao took first place in the open finals division, and deservedly so. Evan Nagao Takes European Yoyo Championship - Neatorama

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gerardvanderleun : March 18, 17  |  Your Say (1)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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Drive-By

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Realistic Anatomical Paintings Reveal The Structures That Lie Beneath Our Skin

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10 Of The Most Adorable Animal “Mlems” Ever Still, the prize for the longest tongue in relation to the body size goes to the chameleon. This tiny fellow can stretch its tongue up to 1.5 times to its body length when trying to reach the sweet nectar of flowers.

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Monsanto House of the Future: When Our Future Was Made of Plastics Built in Disneyland in 1957 as a joint project between Disneyland, Monsanto, and MIT, the House of the Future was constructed of 16 identical plastic shells that were fabricated off-site and then shipped to the building site for assembly. The home was meant to display technological marvels, such as the microwave oven and speaker phone, but mainly showed the many ways that plastics could be incorporated into home-building of the future. Materials included: Acrylon, melamine, rayon, vinyl (flooring), and even plywood. Each of the four wings was capable of supporting 13 tons.

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Calvin Coolidge: Address at the Celebration of the 150th Anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, Philadelphia, Pa. It is the product of the spiritual insight of the people. We live in an age of science and of abounding accumulation of material things. These did not create our Declaration. Our Declaration created them. The things of the spirit come first. Unless we cling to that, all our material prosperity, overwhelming though it may appear, will turn to a barren scepter in our grasp. If we are to maintain the great heritage which has been bequeathed to us, we must be like-minded as the fathers who created it. We must not sink into a pagan materialism. We must cultivate the reverence which they had for the things that are holy. We must follow the spiritual and moral leadership which they showed. We must keep replenished, that they may glow with a more compelling flame, the altar fires before which they worshiped.

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Dynamic Duo “What entranced me was the pride with which the twins showed off their matching outfits.” After reading about the pair in a story on Retro Renovation, Kevin Howard located them in an online yearbook from Denison. He discovered that Maurine Elizabeth Everett and her sister Noreene Dodd died within four months of each other around 2004, at ages 88 and 89, respectively. He also learned that their mother was a seamstress, which explained all the matching outfits.

Before Smartphones And Computers Kids Had Real Fun

Assault Trombone:

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This is the oldest known photograph of a human in America
The story behind the first selfie in the world Since daguerreotype needed a lot of light, Robert had to work outdoors. The famous first selfie was taken in October 1893, outside the lamp and chandelier store which was owned by his family. For the photo, Robert used a box fitted with a lens from an opera glass. Since thedaguerreotype needed 3-15 minutes to be taken, the young photographer had enough time to uncover the lens, run into the shot, stay there as long as necessary or more, and then replace the lens cap. In the self-portrait, Robert's image appears off center, showing a man with tousled hair and his arms crossed, looking at the camera with uncertainty.

A cynic might argue the world is better off having North Korea collapse now while it only has about a dozen nukes than waiting until 2020 when the number will be nearer a hundred.

The Einsteins in the federal government thought they had to warn America that not paying for abortions will mean fewer abortions.

No one saw an almost unimaginably huge and powerful wave crest at 600 feet and sweep down the inlet.

Sunshine Yogurt’s Roadmap to Global Market Domination – Eleven New Yogurts

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gerardvanderleun : March 18, 17  |  Your Say (4)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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"I'm not a singer. I'm a shouter." -- Grace Slick

Slick wrote White Rabbit at home in Marin County a year earlier, on an upright piano with missing keys, at the end of an acid trip during which she listened to Miles Davis’s Sketches Of Spain for 24 hours straight. Then she presented it to her then bandmates, San Francisco raga-folk avatars the Great Society. "They'd read us all these stories where you'd take some kind of chemical and have a great adventure. Alice in Wonderland is blatant; she gets literally high, too big for the room, while the caterpillar sits on a psychedelic mushroom smoking opium. In the Wizard of Oz, they land in a field of opium poppies, wake up and see this Emerald City. Peter Pan? Sprinkle some white dust-cocaine-on your head and you can fly."

And now... complete with lyrics and her backing band...

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gerardvanderleun : March 18, 17  |  Your Say (3)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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agodtomexico.jpg Like most over-forwarded Internet emails this one was too good to be true. Except that this one was, as it turned out, all too true.

We've all gotten the multi-forwarded emails. We get more of them all the time. They all arrive with the same format: headers on top of headers, stacks of email addresses from previous forwards, the ever increasing ">>>>>>'s" characters marching down the left margin, all topped off with the standard "I just knew you'd find this (interesting) (essential) (Important!) (a sign that WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!)." And, on occasion, I do find them interesting [See: Be Very Afraid: Avian Bush Derangement Syndrome Outbreak @ AMERICAN DIGEST ].

Today I got one of these from a woman I know in Laguna Beach entitled "Fw: American working In Mexico " which I reproduce in its entirety below. It was, as I said, so perfect for this time and for this issue that I doubted, immediately, the authenticity of the message. The email told the tale of how an American manages to work legally in Mexico. It read like the perfect 'You've really got to read this!' counter-argument to the the utterly loose and unregulated situation that Mexicans who come to America to work find for themselves. Because it was "perfect," it set off my BS detector.

A quick search of the DEW line for these messages, Free Republic , showed me that the item appeared there on April 21st. But Free Republic is not always to be trusted in these matters, so I checked the blogosphere via Technorati and found that blogs beat out Free Republic by one day, on April 20th .

Still, so what? Neither attested to the truth of the message. And so, before I passed it on via American Digest, I decided to do some digging to see if I could locate the original author, one Mr. Tom O'Malley, and speak with him to see if the message was true.

As it happened I did locate O'Malley and it is true, or, as he says "It certainly was true when I worked in Mexico. I can't speak for current conditions, but things don't change much in that country."

O'Malley was also amazed at how far his letter had gotten around the Internet. "I originally sent it to only 6 friends. Last week, somebody else I knew sent it to me with a line that said, 'You've really got to read this!' I had to tell him that I was the one that wrote it."

Where Mr. O'Malley is, and how I located and spoke with him, I've agreed to withhold. We spoke for over half an hour. O'Malley knows his stuff, knows Mexico, is a fascinating man to speak with on the issue, and is not shy (as you will see) about sharing his knowledge and insights.

Some people, reading his email, may think he is in some way being "anti-Mexican." Nothing could be less true. "The people there," he said during our interview, "are wonderful people. Each and every one of them. They're kind and polite and considerate to a fault. But their situation in Mexico is terrible. And still, they tolerate it. I guess they don't have any choice."

Why is that?

"The government they endure is pretty much fixed in the way it has always done things. Plus it has an ongoing program of intimidation against its own people. Once a year they have a very large parade in Mexico City where the government brings out all the military gear we've sold them and runs it through the streets. Tanks, trucks, artillery. Fighter jets above and machine guns paraded below. It's all designed to remind and intimidate the population."

I asked him if he saw any way that Mexico itself could improve.

"It breaks your heart to see how exploited these people are. Not only in Mexico, but when they come up here for work. Can it be changed? Maybe if we were to make Mexico a 51st state and export our system of laws and somehow reduce the overwhelming level of corruption in that country. If not, it may well be what our Spanish teachers in Mexico told us whenever the subject of The Mexican Revolution came up, 'We need another one, a second Mexican Revolution.' "

I spent five years working in Mexico.

I worked under a tourist visa for three months and could legally renew it for three more months. After that you were working illegally. I was technically illegal for three weeks waiting on the FM3 approval.

During that six months our Mexican and US Attorneys were working to secure a permanent work visa called a FM3. It was in addition to my US passport that I had to show each time I entered and left the country. Barbara's was the same except hers did not permit her to work.

To apply for the FM3 I needed to submit the following notarized originals (not copies) of my:

1. Birth certificates for Barbara and me.

2. Marriage certificate.

3. High school transcripts and proof of graduation.

4. College transcripts for every college I attended and proof of graduation.

5. Two letters of recommendation from supervisors I had worked for at least one year.

6. A letter from The ST. Louis Chief of Police indicating I had no arrest record in the US and no outstanding warrants and was "a citizen in good standing."

7. Finally; I had to write a letter about myself that clearly stated why there was no Mexican citizen with my skills and why my skills were important to Mexico. We called it our "I am the greatest person on earth" letter. It was fun to write.

All of the above were in English that had to be translated into Spanish and be certified as legal translations and our signatures notarized. It produced a folder about 1.5 inches thick with English on the left side and Spanish on the right.

Once they were completed Barbara and I spent about five hours accompanied by a Mexican attorney touring Mexican government office locations and being photographed and fingerprinted at least three times. At each location (and we remember at least four locations) we were instructed on Mexican tax, labor, housing, and criminal law and that we were required to obey their laws or face the consequences.

We could not protest any of the government's actions or we would be committing a felony.

We paid out four thousand dollars in fees and gratuities to complete the process. When this was done we could legally bring in our household goods that were held by US customs in Loredo Texas. This meant we rented furniture in Mexico while awaiting our goods. There were extensive fees involved here that the company paid.

We could not buy a home and were required to rent at very high rates and under contract and compliance with Mexican law.

We were required to get a Mexican drivers license. This was an amazing process. The company arranged for the licensing agency to come to our headquarters location with their photography and finger print equipment and the laminating machine. We showed our US license, were photographed and fingerprinted again and issued the license instantly after paying out a six dollar fee. We did not take a written or driving test and never received instructions on the rules of the road. Our only instruction was never give a policeman your license if stopped and asked. We were instructed to hold it against the inside window away from his grasp. If he got his hands on it you would have to pay ransom to get it back.

We then had to pay and file Mexican income tax annually using the number of our FM3 as our ID number. The company's Mexican accountants did this for us and we just signed what they prepared. It was about twenty legal size pages annually.

The FM 3 was good for three years and renewable for two more after paying more fees.

Leaving the country meant turning in the FM 3 and certifying we were leaving no debts behind and no outstanding legal affairs (warrants, tickets or liens) before our household goods were released to customs.

It was a real adventure and If any of our senators or congressmen went through it once they would have a different attitude toward Mexico.

The Mexican Government uses its vast military and police forces to keep its citizens intimidated and compliant.

They never protest at their White House or government offices but do protest daily in front of the United States Embassy. The US embassy looks like a strongly reinforced fortress and during most protests the Mexican Military surround the block with their men standing shoulder to shoulder in full riot gear to protect the Embassy. These protests are never shown on US or Mexican TV. There is a large public park across the street where they do their protesting. Anything can cause a protest such as proposed law changes in California or Texas.

Please feel free to share this with everyone who thinks we are being hard on illegal immigrants. - - Tom O'Malley



[First published: 2006-05-06 which shows you that the more things change the more they stay insane.]

Vanderleun : March 17, 17  |  Your Say (15)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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The Late Show has acquired a long-awaited joke that has Americans on the edge of their seats. He's going to share it with the world. Shortly. Keep watching.

Maddow told the AP that she never misrepresented what she had.

“Because I have information about the president doesn’t mean that it’s necessarily a scandal,” she said. “It doesn’t mean that it’s damning information. If other people leapt to that conclusion without me indicating that it was, that hype is external to what we did.” Of COURSE! Guess who Rachel Maddow blames for her Trump tax dud

gerardvanderleun : March 16, 17  |  Your Say (4)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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Haruo Nakajima is perhaps Japan’s most famous actor, but you wouldn’t necessarily recognize his face.

That’s because from 1954 to 1972, he was the man inside the Godzilla costume for 12 consecutive films. At 87 years old, many now consider Nakajima among the most iconic suit actors in film history. We caught up with the legend who gave life to the "King of the Monsters" to find out how he took on the challenge in the original groundbreaking movie.

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American Studies

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"Truckin'" was originally a dance move.

There are several theories about where it came from, but the most likely is that it was invented in Harlem during the late 1920's. It was done to a shuffle rhythm and involved moving away from your partner while strutting and waggling your index finger.

It was popularized in the late sixties by cartoonist Robert Crumb. His "Keep on Truckin'" cartoon in Zap comics (1968), featuring a guy leaning way back with his index finger up and his foot thrust forward. It was a popular subject of poster art in the late sixties.

Line by line explication at The Annotated "Truckin'"

Truckin' got my chips cashed in, keep truckin', like the do-dah man
Together, more or less in line, just keep truckin' on

Arrows of neon and flashing marquees out on Main Street
Chicago, New York, Detroit and it's all on the same street
Your typical city involved in a typical daydream
Hang it up and see what tomorrow brings

Dallas, got a soft machine; Houston, too close to New Orleans,
New York's got the ways and means; but just won't let you be, oh no

Most of the cats that you meet on the streets speak of true love,
Most of the time they're sittin' and cryin' at home
One of these days they know they better get goin'
Out of the door and down on the streets all alone

Truckin', like the do-dah man Once told me "You've got to play your hand"
Sometimes your cards ain't worth a dime, if you don't lay'em down,

Sometimes the light's all shinin' on me,
Other times I can barely see
Lately it occurs to me what a long, strange trip it's been

What in the world ever became of sweet Jane?
She lost her sparkle, you know she isn't the same
Livin' on reds, vitamin C, and cocaine,
All a friend can say is "Ain't it a shame?"

Truckin', up to Buffalo Been thinkin', you got to mellow slow
Takes time, you pick a place to go, and just keep truckin' on

Sittin' and starin' out of the hotel window
Got a tip they're gonna kick the door in again
I'd like to get some sleep before I travel,
But if you got a warrant, I guess you're gonna come in

Busted, down on Bourbon Street, set up, like a bowlin' pin
Knocked down, it get's to wearin' thin They just won't let you be, oh no

You're sick of hangin' around and you'd like to travel,
Get tired of travelin' and you want to settle down
I guess they can't revoke your soul for tryin',
Get out of the door and light out and look all around

Sometimes the light's all shinin' on me,
Other times I can barely see
Lately it occurs to me what a long, strange trip it's been

Truckin', I'm a goin' home Whoa whoa baby, back where I belong
Back home, sit down and patch my bones, and get back truckin' on

gerardvanderleun : March 14, 17  |  Your Say (8)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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FYI:Current results of our latest experiment in Democracy can be seen HERE. Not, repeat NOT, encouraging.

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Now the rainman gave me two cures
Then he said, “Jump right in”
The one was Texas medicine
The other was just railroad gin
An’ like a fool I mixed them
An’ it strangled up my mind
An’ now people just get uglier
An’ I have no sense of time
....
An’ here I sit so patiently
Waiting to find out what price
You have to pay to get out of
Going through all these things twice

-- Stuck Inside Of Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again


How quickly we forget the overwhelming horror of the first time government really fixed health care. And now, for the real BOHICA moment, get ready for the first time government really unfixes health care.

Wake me when it's over.

gerardvanderleun : March 14, 17  |  Your Say (3)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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"When taking Impeachara make sure you have disabled instant news alerts on all your devices."

[HT:Never Yet Melted]

gerardvanderleun : March 14, 17  |  Your Say (5)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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5-Minute Arguments

Madison University "Students" Stumped By Insanely Simple and Obvious Hypothetical

"Alliance Defending Freedom," an advocacy group for conscience rights, asks some students if they support a dress designer's right to refuse to dress Melania Trump, or of the right of a Muslim singer to refuse a Christian Church's request to sing at an Easter mass. Of course they immediately agree that these creative professionals have that right, and must have that right, because -- Because Of Course. What other way could it possibly be? Then they're asked if a Christian photographer should have the right to refuse to take photos at a gay wedding.

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Grace Notes


1054 A.D.

I.

Titanium skaters on lakes of metallic hydrogen
Etch constant curves of crystalline
Isotopes of orange uranium
All about the vacant house.

Enigmas of equations
Slide lattices to rest
In beds of powdered strontium,
Molding energy as form suggests.

In the place of flux we find new forms,
For flux-formed spaces enfold
Charms of magnet's fever
That conduct the core from pole to pole.

II.

The whiteness of Earth's silences
Are eyes that stare on space.
Orbits chart them ceaselessly,
Etching irises of lace.

The inner of Earth's outer
Is a torus twisted twice.
Balloons ascend within it
Painting shadows in the room.

III.

What can the mind of silence hear
Other than a whiteness past revision, past review?

It evolves from epicenters,
Stretches measureless as sound,

Or is seen as the floor of the void
Where the whine of protons stills....

In the drifts of chromium snow,
and gazes on the bones of matter bare.

At times, men in aluminum cloaks
Descend the neutron ladder,

And move in a sleet of particles
Too scintillating for instruments to record.

At times, men in groups descend
Through the smoke of the universe,

To tend the embers, imprison flame.
Their cascading movements sparkle.

We taste the afterimage of events.
Below us, pale and infinitely silent,

The plutonium leaves arabesque
Through radiant silences of solid helium.

IV.

Sometimes it seems I had a dream, and, as a dreamer woke immersed in mineral baths closed within a cool, dark chamber fed by streams flowing in from the center of nowhere.

Hanging from the granite ceiling a kerosene lantern cast shards of light through the pale steam rising from the surface of the pools.

Ripples radiated outwards from the edges of my body and tapping faintly on the rock revealed the edges of the chamber.

Outside I could hear the wind slide across the spine of the mountains, speaking in a language that I remembered but could no longer understand.

Steam filled my nostrils and heat penetrated my bones until, after a time, I had no body, only a sense of silence and distance and calm.

As if I had just woken from all water into dream.

-- Tassajara Zen Mountain Center, 1973

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The poem "Punch Brothers Punch" (also known as "The Horror! The Horror!")was not composed by Mark Twain, but by a group of people in 1876.

It was the brainchild of Messrs. Isaac Bromley, Noah Brooks, W. C. Wyckoff, and Moses W. Handy. Bromley and Brooks, while riding a tram one night, had taken notice of a sign informing passengers about the fare:
A Blue Trip Slip for an 8-cents fare.
A Buff Trip Slip for a 6-cents fare.
A Pink Trip Slip for a 3-cents fare.
For Coupon and Transfer, punch the Tickets.

Bromley had reportedly exclaimed,

"Brooks, it's poetry. By George, it's poetry!" The two spent the remainder of their trip composing the poem, giving it its jingle-like character, and adding improvements such as the chorus. Upon arrival at the offices of the New York Tribune, they showed the poem to their friends, scientific editor W. C. Wyckoff and Moses Handy, who assisted them in completing it. They published their result in the Tribune, the same newspaper which Mark Twain had chanced upon. The poem gained popularity rapidly, taking over the minds of numerous people; it was assisted by Twain, who let it loose upon the world in his story.

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Will the reader please to cast his eye over the following lines, and see if he can discover anything harmful in them?

Conductor, when you receive a fare,
Punch in the presence of the passenjare!
A blue trip slip for an eight-cent fare,
A buff trip slip for a six-cent fare,
A pink trip slip for a three-cent fare,
Punch in the presence of the passenjare!

CHORUS

Punch, brothers! punch with care!
Punch in the presence of the passenjare!

I came across these jingling rhymes in a newspaper, a little while ago, and read them a couple of times. They took instant and entire possession of me. All through breakfast they went waltzing through my brain; and when, at last, I rolled up my napkin, I could not tell whether I had eaten anything or not. I had carefully laid out my day's work the day before--thrilling tragedy in the novel which I am writing. I went to my den to begin my deed of blood. I took up my pen, but all I could get it to say was, "Punch in the presence of the passenjare.

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Vanderleun : March 10, 17  |  Your Say (9)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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American Studies

gerardvanderleun : March 9, 17  |  Your Say (5)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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How to Prepare for Spring, 1528

"Of prymtyme, and what it is. The prymtyme is hote & moyst temperatly as the ayre. This season the blode moeueth and spredeth to all the membres of the body, and the body is parfyte in temperate complexyon. In this season chekyns, kyddes, and poched egges ought to be eaten, with letuses & gotes mylke in these thre monethes. Prymetyme begynneth whan the sonne entreth the sygne of Aryes and lasteth .xcii. dayes, an houre and a halfe fro the .x. day of Marche to the .x. day of June. In this season is the best letyng of blode of ony tyme. And than is good to trauayle and to be laxatyfe. And to be bathed. And to eate suche thynges as wyll purge the bely." -- Secretum secretorum, tr. Robert Copland / Are you ready for primetime? Nothing makes for a festive spring like lettuce, bloodletting, and laxatives.

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Captain Monroe, always on the lookout for excess, sends this sign caught live in Florida under the rubric: "Best Sign Yet!"

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If you know anyone who claims we need more laws and regulations, please have them sit quietly and contemplate this sign and the immense wheezing bureaucratic entropy it epitomizes for a full half-hour.

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[Note: There are always many things to illuminate and educate and entertain at the venerable Woodpile Report with Ol' Remus. Chief among these are the pocket essays written by Remus. This is one of them from the latest Woodpile.]

Around here we pass on useful tips. How to identify Tulip Poplar for absolute sure in the wintertime, where not to be while chuck hunting, how to touch up chain saw teeth with a hand-held round file, identifying rare critters, like the Fisher, and sounds heard only occasionally, like the Vixen Scream, and so forth. As for finding water, the problem in Appalachian hill country is how to cross it or avoid it—hint: when your dowser goes up, camp there.

By the time a kid is in his teens he's a walking Foxfire magazine, without knowing it. It's fully the equal of urban "street smarts" in terms of value for its setting. I've hosted people from cities who have never, literally never, been outside their urban confines, i.e., they're "cosmopolitan". Their assumptions and anxieties are often touchingly hilarious but, you know, courtesy precludes being dismissive.

They're exceptionally good walkers on level ground, with admirable stamina, but they're dangerously inept in wooded hills and have a dogged preference for doing everything the hard way. While refreshingly enthusiastic about some things they commonly look without seeing, have little sense of direction—being landmark navigators suddenly without landmarks, grossly over or underestimate distance and have an annoying tendency to walk in aimless loops.

They see it all as a Disney production, or a sort of walk-in painting, so unless a need arises, and one day with another no need arises, I take care not to mention rabid raccoons, poison ivy, underground hornet nests, bears, ticks and other unsettling notions.

There is an up side. When they see, perhaps for the first time, an inky black sky full of stars, when they hear real silence or the tinkly murmur of a little creek, when we step into the back yard and shoot wiley coffee cans—"can we really do this?"—when they listen to owls trading insults at night, when they savor fresh eggs from hens wandering at will, when they come in of a chilly evening and bask in woodstove heat corpuscles, I take pleasure in their pleasure.



Down valley a smoke haze
Three days heat, after five days rain
Pitch glows on the fir-cones
Across rocks and meadows
Swarms of new flies.

I cannot remember things I once read
A few friends, but they are in cities.
Drinking cold snow-water from a tin cup
Looking down for miles
Through high still air.

- - Mid-August at Sourdough Mountain Lookout by Gary Snyder


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gerardvanderleun : March 8, 17  |  Your Say (1)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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Click-Pix: Blogs on a Roll

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“Jazz is often described as being an extremely individualistic art form. You can figure out which jazz musician is playing because one person’s improvisation sounds only like him or her. “What we think is happening is when you’re telling your own musical story, you’re shutting down impulses that might impede the flow of novel ideas.” - - ScienceDaily
We don't fill in a formula of departments and features and tips and quips every hour every day every week.

We're jamming.

We just make up our content on the fly. No going back. No edits. Mainlining others' thoughts.

Lock and Load. Fire and forget.

It's like an endless orchestra of brain musicians high on brain jazz.

If you can type and have something to say, you can sit in on the session and jam.

If you can take it high, if you can take it low, if you can tie it in a knot, if you can tie it in a bow. If you can throw it o'er your shoulder like a continental soldier...

You. Can. Play.

You can play. Any number can play. ANY NUMBER can play a number and that number is always an unknown number. But if you can play unknown numbers you can sit in on the session and jam.

If not, you can just login and kick back and watch the others go at it.

You never know what you're going to get, or which way the next person is going to bend the thread in your head.

You're just there, in real time, and saying, really, whatever comes into your head.

Sometimes its flat, even more often predictable, and, yes, it can get really boring.... just like a lot of modern jazz.

But still, there are times -- rarer now to be sure -- when the whole thing....

Just. Takes. Off....

And you find yourself thinking things you never thought you'd think remembering licks long forgotten and saying things you never planned to say to a lot of people who are coming right back at you, jamming harder and seeing if you can all somehow take it higher.

Not to be profound, just to take it around. It's like being in a Doctor Strange far out on the range in an intellectual groove and you've got lift off.

Have this happen a couple of time and you're hooked, man. Like me, man.

I've been hooked for years, man....

but it doesn't rule my life,

.... man.

First published here in 2003, but written for The Well in 1989.

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MONDO BIZARRO


Please Donate

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By Mail: Gerard Van der Leun | 6616-D Clark Road #176 | Paradise, CA 95969

As I sit in my study and write this by the light of an incandescent bulb

I'm very appreciative of electric lighting. My father grew up before rural electric coops brought light into farm homes.
The marvel of lighting a room with the flip of a switch wasn't lost on him. Nor on me. I hadn't heard of this Earth Hour thing before. Too bad it takes something as contrived as this seems to be to remind us of the pleasure and mystery of darkness at night.

I live in rural Minnesota, about three miles from the nearest town. The ambient glow of lighting is dim but ever present. But I am fortunate that the starry welken isn't overpowered by it. On a clear night the sky here is astounding. I'm truly sorry for those of you who don't get it. Darkness and silence are two of the scarcest commodities on earth.

The problem is not that we are able to have lighting where and when we want it. The problem is the wretched excess of lighting where and when we don't need it. Look out the window the next time you fly at night. Almost everywhere, even in the middle of the night, our world is glowing. You will see acres of empty parking lots lit up brighter than a high school football field on Friday night.

Where I live even abandoned farms have multiple security lights burning from dusk to dawn, a vestigial carry-over from when gypsies and hobos might steal a chicken or a fresh pie of the window sill. How thoughtlessly stupid.

I'm not going to get into climate change, global warming or energy consumption. I have opinions but no expertise, specialized knowledge or insights. What I do know is the pleasure of stepping outside in the middle of a July night and listening to the pulse a world that I can't see. The magic of sitting in a canoe in the Boundary Waters wilderness listening to the cries of loons announcing their presence on a moonlit lake The atavistic sensation of letting my feet find a path in the night woods.

If you don't know and don't care then its going to take more than an Earth Hour to enlighten you. Posted by: Snowgoose Earth Hour: Click to Fade @ AMERICAN DIGEST


Antonello da Messina: Portrait of a Man (detail), 1472-76

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The Cullinan Diamond:

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The nine largest stones after the rough Cullinan diamond was split

The largest gem-quality rough diamond ever found was cut into many pieces and dispersed, but all are now in possession of Queen Elizabeth II
The Great Star of Africa diamond is mounted on the Sovereign’s Scepter with Cross, and the Second Star of Africa, cut from the same rough diamond, is mounted on the Imperial State Crown. Both of these diamonds are part of the British Crown Jewels. Seven more major diamonds and ninety-six minor stones were also cut from the original rough diamond. All are owned by Queen Elizabeth II, who inherited them from her grandmother, Queen Mary.


“Billy, come now – his breathing has changed.”

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It has slowed to just three or four breaths per minute – long silences in between. He is no longer conscious. He is stretched out on his bed diagonally and looks comfortable.
Maurine, who has been at the side of many patients as they die, tells us this is the last phase, but that it could go on for many hours, days maybe. A little while ago, I looked around the room, crowded with bedsheets, towels, pads, medications, an oxygen tank and other medical equipment, and I began clearing it out, all of it. First, I brought in stacks of all of O’s books, cleared a bedside table, and put them there. I brought in a cycad plant and a fern. Kate joined me, and we cleared more space, making room on another table for some of O’s beloved minerals and elements, his fountain pens, a ginkgo fossil, his pocket watch. Elsewhere, a few books by his heroes – Darwin, Freud, Luria, Edelman, Thom Gunn – and photos – his father, Auden, his mother as a girl with her 17 siblings, his aunts and uncles, his brothers. We brought in flowers, candles. I am heartbroken but at peace. Last night, before getting some sleep, I came in to see if he needed anything. “Do you know how much I love you?” I said. “No.” His eyes were closed. He was smiling, as if seeing beautiful things. My life with Oliver Sacks: ‘He was the most unusual person I had ever known’ | Books | The Guardian


Joking or not, he isn’t wrong…

A gentleman at work, from Pakistan, was bewildered by the events reported from “Day Without a Woman.”
Taking a broader view of the protests leading up to it, and likely sputtering along afterward, he asked in a jocular sort of way if the United States is heading toward a new reality in which every single day is a “day of” something, with constant protesting by someone or another. Now I have to wonder, what am I supposed to say to that? House of Eratosthenes


When Earth's Last Selfie is Taken...

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Black like... er, white like.... er, black like.... oh to hell with it crank that tanning bed up to 11!

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The story of Rachel Dolezal gets even more bizarre
“I’d stir the water from the hose into the earth … and make thin, soupy mud, which I would then rub on my hands, arms, feet, and legs,” Dolezal writes. “I would pretend to be a dark-skinned princess in the Sahara Desert or one of the Bantu women living in the Congo … imagining I was a different person living in a different place was one of the few ways … that I could escape the oppressive environment I was raised in.”


15 Mid-Century Modern Dream Homes that will Kill Your Children

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Someone needs to call protective services on this place, because this stylish modern mother is too absorbed in her reading to notice that all her children have fallen into the living room garden. - - | projectophile

Coyote Gravity

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The spate of silly comparisons between Trump and the Mule from Asimov’s Foundation series are right in one respect.
Trump is an element that our social planners did not foresee. Not because of mutant mind-powers, but because of an intellectual blindspot on the part of those who thought they were charting the destiny of the nation. He couldn’t possibly win, they thought. Our media propaganda machine is just too strong, they thought. Now they’re scrambling to figure out how they got it so completely wrong. Or they should be. Instead, too many on the Left are doubling-down on the same kind of clueless snobbery and basket-full-of-deplorables rhetoric that cost them the election to begin with. The problem can’t be with them, oh no. It must The People who let them down. Instead of behaving like the good little Marxist automatons that they’re supposed to, they went and elected the Worst Candidate Ever, seeming embodiment of everything the Left despises capped off with an obvious toupee. Now after eight years of Hope and Change and post-racial utopias, it’s back to Amerikkka being the source of all evil in the world, with rich white male Christian Republicans at the root of it all. - - Christopher M. Chupik | According To Hoyt


Not a dog? Nothing to see here. Move on.

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We were raised to not be afraid,

to be responsible, and have the ability to handle our own problems.
We learned that the society we lived in had laws and we were taught to adhere to those laws or face the consequences. There were also the unspoken rules, respect your elders, hold a door open for the ladies, don’t hit girls, and don’t swear in front of Mom.

We lived by the rules, didn’t seem that difficult. Crossing Guards


There's a Wire Above Manhattan That You've Probably Never Noticed

It's hard to imagine that anything literally hanging from utility poles across Manhattan could be considered "hidden," but throughout the borough, about 18 miles of translucent wire stretches around the skyline, and most people have likely never noticed. It's called an eruv (plural eruvin), and its existence is thanks to the Jewish Sabbath.

On the Sabbath, which is viewed as a day of rest, observant Jewish people aren't allowed to carry anything—books, groceries, even children—in public places (doing so is considered "work"). The eruv encircles much of Manhattan, acting as a symbolic boundary that turns the very public streets of the city into a private space, much like one's own home. This allows people to freely communicate and socialize on the Sabbath—and carry whatever they please—without having to worry about breaking Jewish law. | Mental Floss



Lucky is better than smart. Luck is a kind of smart.

Then there was the neighbor kid that stuck all his ships in the middle of the board, all touching each other.
He didn’t have any strategy, and didn’t care what yours was. He’d just guess, and his guessing was better than your strategy. Once he had you, you were done, because subterfuge doesn’t work on people that don’t use it on their end. Pointing and Laughing at Your Defeated Opponent. It’s the American Way – BSBFB


We shall pile wood upon our living room bonfire and line the walls with asbestos!

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Because lighting domestic demographic fires is a religious form of noblesse oblige
and every Western leader keeps striking the match while making sure it’s some other poor fuck who ends up in a hearse. And that’s not cheap. A massive security apparatus must be erected and maintained as a prophylactic to prevent important people from being burned and unimportant people from complaining about it. The Virtue Inferno | The Kakistocracy


Such events have by this point almost become unworthy of the 12 hours media organs now allocate to them.

The blood of invasion victims striking the pavement is starting to take on the narcoleptic patter of rainfall.
That it is a thing of gruesome regularity makes it no less regular. And eventually muslim violence in Europe will attract as much publicity as black violence does in America–which is to say two sentences on page 12.

The logic isn’t entirely unsound. The news is for things that are actually news. And Europeans being slaughtered in their own capital cities by foreign infantry is not at all novel, in this age or those prior. The fact that this time they’ve voluntarily imported (and resolutely continue to import) their antagonists is the noteworthy aspect. Though not so much as to warrant the public’s input. - - The Virtue Inferno | The Kakistocracy


The Useful and the Useless

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Among the analyses of the election, few noted an obvious dividing line.
Trump’s supporters by and large do useful things, or are angry because they’re prevented from doing useful things. They build, engineer, manufacture, plant, grow, operate, maintain, repair, transport, and sell the things we find useful or essential.

When we ram the iceberg, their skills, brains, and adaptability will be sorely needed. Politicians and bureaucrats and the millions dependent on them for their fake jobs, income, food, shelter, transportation, and medical care will find little demand for their skills, such as they are.

The useful may well conclude that keeping them alive is more trouble than it’s worth.

There will be those who are too young, old, or infirm to produce, but whom the useful will support out of friendship or kinship. However, it would be surprising if they felt anything but contempt for the faceless hordes demanding that someone, anyone, take care of them.

Take away the undeserved from the undeserving and you get a tantrum. Steal the earned from those who earned it and you get righteous rage. One’s a firecracker, the other a volcano. by Robert Gore @ STRAIGHT LINE LOGIC


Attacked Again

For some reason, there is a great reluctance to discuss the link between terrorism and immigration.
Instead, we get appeals not to blame Muslims for a few bad or mentally ill people in their midst.

So much mental illness these days.

Next will come candles, a hashtag, someone will pull off a girl’s headscarf and Islamophobia will become the story.

You can make planes secure, but not the queues to go through security.

You can bring in laws to restrict gun ownership, but terrorists use cars or lorries as weapons.

You can surround Parliament with armed policemen, but you can’t prevent people from using nearby streets or bridges. Or if you do so you just move the security barrier farther away. Eventually you have to make national borders a tight security barrier. Unless you are part of Schengen or believe, as Hillary and Bill Clinton do, in a borderless world. - - Paul Wood


The questions for South Africa are a) How long before the blacks decide it is time to kill all the whites,

b) How many blacks will the whites be willing to kill in order to survive? and c) How will the West respond?
The most likely answer to the first question is soon. Zuma will follow the Mugabe formula and keep ratcheting up the violence incrementally. Given that he is the moderate at the moment, he will play the triangulation game where he will promise to hold off the more insane elements of the black leadership, in order to get concessions from the white population. This will roll along until Zuma is killed, or decides he has to go for it in order to maintain his position. South Africa | The Z Blog


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The journalists have constructed for themselves a little wooden chapel, which they also call the Temple of Fame, in which they put up and take down portraits all day long and make such a hammering you can't hear yourself speak. - - Lichtenberg



Pray for Sanity: "Because they can’t run you over, if you don’t let them in."

Pray that your government doesn’t decide to open the borders to as many migrants from Pakistan, Afghanistan, Syria, Iraq, Yemen and any other terror state as can make their way over.
Pray that the next government doesn’t do it either. And pray that if it does, they don’t move in near you. Because they can’t run you over, if you don’t let them in. They can’t stab you while shouting, “Allahu Akbar” if they never get a visa. They can’t shove you into the water, if they get deported. They can’t blow you up if they can’t get in. Pray that the local diplomats actually do some basic checks of the visa application for the next terrorist showing up at the local consulate. Pray that they do a better job than they did before September 11. - - Sultan Knish


The Haunting Face of a Man Who Lived 700 Years Ago

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He was just slightly over 40 years old when he died.
His skeleton showed signs of considerable wear-and-tear, so he likely lead a tough and hard working life. His tooth enamel stopped growing during two occasions in his youth, suggesting he likely lived through bouts of famine or sickness when he was young. The archaeologists found traces of blunt force trauma inflicted to the back of his head, which healed over before he died. The researchers aren’t sure what he did for a living, but they think he was a working-class person who specialized in some kind of trade. - - Gizmodo


The Obama people started spying on Trump once he had the nomination or perhaps even earlier.

They may have started earlier with an eye on helping the Republicans knock him off in the primary, but that’s not clear.
They figured that Clinton was a lock so they were not careful about covering their tracks. The Clinton people are as dirty as it gets so they were not going to be ratting on anyone over it. If anything, they would expand on it. This is where the Russian hacking story comes into the picture. Once disaster struck and Team Obama realized they had a problem, they needed cover, so they started with the Russian hacking nonsense. They would then claim that it was all an accident and they were just trying to prevent Boris Badenov and Natasha Fatale from attacking our democracy! It’s also why Obama signed a retroactive Executive Order giving cover to the intel agencies for their domestic spying activities. They were creating a cover story. The Political Class Murders Itself | The Z Blog


Implement the nuclear option and completely eliminate the filibuster immediately.

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The filibuster only works if you have the balls to make it benefit your side and it seems that only Democrats and Newt possess such a pair.
Once it’s gone we can “Repeal and Replace” Obamacare and confirm Neil Gorsuch to SCOTUS within a week. Then we can move on to pass tax reform, build the border wall, actually reform immigration (I’m not talking amnesty or any of the amnesty-light plans), fix our bad trade deals and Make America Great Again! All this year! MOTUS A.D.: What’s So Hard About Repeal and Replace


Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802 by William Wordsworth

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Earth has not anything to show more fair:

Dull would he be of soul who could pass by

A sight so touching in its majesty:

This City now doth, like a garment, wear

The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,

Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie

Open unto the fields, and to the sky;

All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.

Never did sun more beautifully steep

In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;

Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!

The river glideth at his own sweet will:

Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;

And all that mighty heart is lying still!

Coming Soon to a City Near You, YES YOU:

French Muslim tries to drive a car into a crowd in Antwerp |
A French -Tunisian has been arrested after trying to drive a car loaded with liquid gas, assault rifles and knives into a crowd of shoppers in Antwerp in an attempted terror attack. Belgian police, who confirmed the bomb squad had been sent to the area, said the car was being driven at high speed and that pedestrians had to jump out of the way to avoid being injured.Authorities found knives, a shotgun and a gas can with an unknown liquid in the car prompting officers who usually deal with extremist attacks to take over the case.


From time to time I'm called simple minded.

I take it as a compliment and thank my accuser for noticing.
Few things are as complicated as they're made out to be. Examples: before ObamaCare there was no ObamaCare. Duh. It made things worse. Repeal it and make things better instantly.

Nullify and denounce every federal, state and municipal gun control act, law and regulation ever passed, including the commerce clause stuff. The Constitution prohibits government from interfering, in any way, with our right to keep and bear arms. So stop doing it.

And illegal aliens. They have to go. It's the law. Don't like it? Change the law. Until then it's the will of the people, duly enacted. Either enforce it or stop saying 'representative democracy' and 'rule of law'. => Insert "it's not that simple" and pictures of baby seals here <=. Woodpile Report


The world has lost a truly great entomologist, perhaps its greatest collector of beetles, with the death of David A. Rockefeller

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on Monday at the age of one hundred and one, among the cabinets of his specimens at Pocantico Hills: each impeccably labelled and mounted.
Rockefeller’s dwarfed the collections of Darwin and Wallace, the accumulated stores in Oxford University, the holdings of natural history museums in many sizeable European countries. At the age of seven, this young David discovered his calling — or was called, by an elegant, an elongate Parandra, glittering dark caramel, the full inch long, with its formidable pinching mandibles. It was trespassing in the foliage on his father’s estate. Veritably, a Parandra brunneus. Bravely lifting it by its sides, the lad dropped it into a bottle, the first of his hundred thousand catches, by one means or another. The rest is silence : Essays in Idleness


How America’s Obsession With Hula Girls Almost Wrecked Hawai’i

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In ancient hula, the movements were secondary to the poetry or songs being chanted, which were known as mele.
“Hula was the history book, children’s literature, and sacred text of a people with no written language,” Hale writes in The Natives Are Restless. “It maintained the relationship between gods and mortals. It preserved the greatness of the chiefly lines. It honored the race and encouraged procreation, and it traced the subtleties of the natural world: the rolling of waves onshore; the tumbling of waterfalls; the distinctions between tropical mists, showers, and rains.” According to Hale, the hula “is said to have originated with the goddess Laka, who is identified with hula, fertility, the forest, and various blossoms and ferns.” Before performing their ritual, the dancers would build an altar to Laka in the sacred space known as a hālau, a long meeting house where Hawaiians would also study canoe-making, featherwork, and other traditional arts. | Collectors Weekly


Facebook and Google, so the saying goes, make their users into their products

—the real customer is the advertiser or data speculator preying on the information generated by the companies’ free services.
But things are bound to get even weirder than that. When automobiles drive themselves, for example, their human passengers will not become masters of a new form of urban freedom, but rather a fuel to drive the expansion of connected cities, in order to spread further the gospel of computerized automation. If artificial intelligence ends up running the news, it will not do so in order to improve citizen’s access to information necessary to make choices in a democracy, but to further cement the supremacy of machine automation over human editorial in establishing what is relevant. Why Nothing Works Anymore - The Atlantic


Testicle Festival

American Legion's Testicle Festival urges you to 'come have a ball' | Rau said the Legion will start serving dinner around noon "until they run out of nuts." Beer and mixed drinks are $2 a pop and there is no cover charge. "You get baked beans, coleslaw and a roll with dinner, plus the nuts and the gizzards," Rau said. "They taste like chicken."

There’s also something called The Sapien Paradox, which means, why did humans become smart so late?

We know that the human brain evolved to its current state about 60,000 years ago.

It took 50,000 years for humans to figure out agriculture. Over the last 10,000 years, humans developed symbolic concepts like notions of value, number and measure. Abstract social concepts like status and power, along with the symbols associated with them are, relatively speaking, very recent developments.Space Aliens & Talking Monkeys | The Z Blog



If you want to know how successful something will be on the internet, judge it solely on how creepy it is.

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The creepier and more degenerate it is, the more likely it is to prosper....
Twitter is really, really creepy. Uber was creepy long before you found out exactly how it was creepy. The only human thing about anyone who worked there was their hamhanded attempts to grope the help, now that I think of it. When that's the top of your interpersonal heap, Dante Alighieri should write your yearly reports. Facebook, and the avaricious little twerp that runs it, is the creepiest thing I've ever encountered on this world, and I've renovated apartments that had a dead body in them. Google is creepy turtles, all the way down.Sippican Cottage: Chef, Or The Greater Creep Theory of Internet Success


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Cooking for Him [Bumped]

What interests me more is that its men who seem to be doing most of the cooking.
Recent research actually showed that men like cooking more than women; probably because it appeals to the male tendency to like goal-oriented tasks and building. But its also possible that a generation of women raised to think any traditionally female role is demeaning, oppressive, and inferior have been trained to think of cooking as bad. Word Around the Net: Food in the New Century


Got a Tumblr Takedown Lawyer's Letter on This KA-CHING item

Dear Tom Hanks, It must be nice to be able to afford a $26 Million shack and a lawyer to scour the Internet to hide your extravagance.

KA-CHING! • The Green Mile of Green Bullshit: Environmentally The Green Mile of Green Bullshit: Environmentally Conscious Actor Buys $26 Million, 14,500 Square Foot, 5 Bathroom House : The Powers That Be In yet another story trying to pin down the biggest home sale of 2009, the LA Times reports that Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson (no, that headline is not a Cast Away joke) have set an early benchmark in the 2010 contest. Last month they bought New York-based Gwathmey Siegel & Associates’ San Onofre Residence in Pacific Palisades, from producers Kathleen Kennedy and Frank Marshall, for more than $26 million.

Fuck you. Go bother somebody with money.
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Overthinking Eternity

“I fear that eventually throughout eternity
I will eventually reach a point where I have experienced everything, learned everything, done everything, met everyone, and eventually I am gonna be stuck being bored of being in existence, but I’m gonna have no way out no matter how much I want it to be so,” apeirophobia sufferer Paul wrote. Apeirophobia - The Fear of Eternal Life and Infinity


They'd prefer the exact kind of bad they're sure to receive to an outside chance of better.

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Why do people eat at McDonald's?
It's because they know exactly what they're going to get, and what it's going to cost. There are no surprises. Well-to-do people sneer at McDonald's because they don't understand the concept of no do-overs. Their budgets allow them to experiment. Regular people know they have one shot, so they take no chances. They'd prefer the exact kind of bad they're sure to receive to an outside chance of better. This explains second presidential terms as well. Sippican Cottage: Getting Fresh and Familiar


There is the world dimensional

for those untwisted by the love of things irreconcilable...- - Hart Crane



Hix Nix Starbuckx Pix

Hire 10,000 Refugees? Americans BFYTW.
The Backlash Against Starbucks Is Real, And It Isn't Going Away For comparison, McDonald’s customer happiness has averaged around 67-69% consistently. This means Starbucks went from 4-5 points better than McDonald’s to 3 points worse, which means poor comparisons for the company. Even worse, it’s the kind of data we see when consumers are in the process of making behavioral shifts that could have lasting impact on same store sales and revenue reports into the future.


New 'Safe Space' Guidelines at University of Arizona Treat Students Like Preschoolers

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"If a student feels hurt or offended by another student's comment, the hurt student can say ‘ouch,'" the university said. "In acknowledgment, the student who made the hurtful comment says ‘oops.'" - Washington Free Beacon [HT– Knowledge is Power]

Tales from the Steroid Bunker

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The Power and the Gory Bronx Banter“Once I was on Hempstead Turnpike, on my way to the gym, when some guy in a pickup gave me the finger.
That’s it, lights out. I chased him doing ninety in my new Corvette, and did a three-sixty in heavy traffic right in front of him. I jumped out, ripped the door off his truck, and caved in his face with one punch. The other guy in the cab, who had done nothing to me, jumps out and starts running down the divider to get away from me. I chased him on foot and was pounding the shit out of him on the side of the road when the cops pulled up in two cruisers. ‘Michalik, get outta here, ya crazy fuck,’ they go, ‘this is the last goddamn time we’re lettin’ you slide.’” .... The bad news, said the surgeon after a battery of X-rays, was that Michalik would never walk again. The good news was that with a couple of operations, the pain could be substantially mitigated. Michalik told him to get the fuck out of his room. For months he lay in traction, refusing medication, and with his free arm went on injecting himself with testosterone, which had with him in a black bag at the time of the accident, and which the hospital had so thoughtfully put on his bedside table.


So just what does “failed” billionaire mean? And how do I become one?

Some of their words make sense but simply don't compute, as when the Liberals describe President Trump as a “failed billionaire.” The man flew everywhere in his own 757, he owned golf courses and hotels all over the world and before he moved into 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, lived in in a gold-encrusted four-story penthouse atop the gleaming skyscraper he owned overlooking Central Park. Articles: Shrugging Off the Liberal 'Resistance'



Malibu sure loves them some slaves

Malibu becomes a sanctuary city — in solidarity with its gardeners, cooks and others in the U.S. illegally Malibu is about 92% white and one of L.A. County’s wealthiest cities. Everyone agrees the city has workers who are not authorized to be in the United States, and they tend to serve the food at upscale eateries, clean the beachside mansions, look after children and keep the landscaping looking lush.



Dinner consisted in a succession of complicated small things,

with microscopic ingredients and contrasting tastes that forced you to concentrate as if you were taking some type of exam.
You were not eating, rather visiting some type of museum with an affected English major lecturing you on some artistic dimension you would have never considered on your own. There was so little that was familiar and so little that fit my taste buds: once something on the occasion tasted like something real, there was no chance to have more as we moved on to the next dish. Trudging through the dishes and listening to some b***t by the sommelier about the paired wine, I was afraid of losing concentration. I costs a lot of energy to fake that I was not bored. In fact I discovered an optimization in the wrong place: the only thing I cared about, bread, was not warm. It appears that this is not a Michelin requirement. Only The Rich Are Poisoned: The Preference of Others – INCERTO – Medium


The environmentalist utopia, in which by 2030 or 2050 or 2100 all or most energy comes from solar power and wind power?

If leftists were serious about reducing CO2 emissions without inflicting energy poverty on the developed and developing world alike,
they would favor temporarily switching from coal to lower-carbon natural gas, while rapidly building zero-carbon-emission nuclear power plants, whose limited risks would surely be tolerable if the alternative is catastrophic global warming.But no, natural gas is evil and nuclear energy is evil. Solar power and wind power are good, even though realistically they cannot be scaled up to meet present and future global energy demands. Most environmentalists are not open to debate on energy. They are crusaders who view hydrocarbons and nuclear power the way the old Prohibitionists viewed alcohol. There can be no compromise with sin. The Fantasy Worlds of Politics | The Smart Set


I’m Not Stuck in a Liberal Bubble Anymore Because I Just Watched All Five Seasons of Friday Night Lights

They’re not all that different from us.
They like football like we like Hamilton. They eat barbecue while we eat artisanal bagel hybrids. They revere Panthers’ players the way we revere Elizabeth Warren. They keep indoor furniture on the lawn and patio furniture in the living room, while we tend to do the opposite. No one lifestyle is better than the other; they’re simply different. - McSweeney’s Internet Tendency


One More Reason We Should Carpet-Bomb American Colleges & Universities

"It may be objected that parents' desire to have their own biological children is so strong that they would be blind to the public good, that they would have babies and bring them up in secret.
But those babies would not have birth certificates, they would not be citizens, they could not vote, serve in public office and so forth. If discovered, the children might be taken away after the strong bonds of psychological (as opposed to biological) parenthood had been formed. Few Americans would risk these penalties." Never Yet Melted »


Nota Bene:

Don’t Forget Free Cone Day At Dairy Queen Today – Monday



The word to mint here is “TRUMPANOIA.”

I picked up the dead tree version of ye olde Times book review section, something I hadn’t done for ages.

I saw that a certain obsession/compulsion seems to have crept into the prose of the reviews. Every single one that I read—and I got to around to about fie or six of them before I stopped reading—made some reference, oblique or direct, to these harsh Trumpian times in which we live. This was true whatever the subject matter of the book might have been. And these weren’t just references to the discord of the American people about the Trump presidency, either. Each reference seemed to come with a set of assumptions that implied agreement among the Times’ readers on the following:
(1) we all detest Trump
(2) Trump is a totalitarian about to take our rights away any moment
(3) these things don’t need much demonstration at this point; they are a given and we all understand what we’re referring toThe book review section: fanning anti-Trump paranoia



Muscle, Smoke, Mirrors:

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The Atlas myth is a critical part of bodybuilding lore, an eternally recurring ur-story.
From the famed Greek wrestler Milo of Croton, who allegedly invented resistance training by toting a calf on his back and increasing the load as it gained weight, down to the tales of men like Lou Ferrigno, who fashioned weights out of milk jugs and sand, bodybuilding stories are, at base, creation myths. Something muscular is forged from frail nothingness, and the creator lives happily ever after. (Milo, the story goes, was eaten by wolves or lions after getting stuck in thetree he was attempting to split with his bare hands, but at least he perished doing what he loved.) The Literature of Bodybuilding


Who won, and with what poem?

I don’t know. I have a hunch that it will be someone from a protected class – person of color, etc – who wrote a poem about oppression or THE ELECTION.

In a way I hope I’m right. I’ll have a clear understanding of why it beat me out, instead of worrying that someone might have actually written a better poem. Which of course is as likely as anything else, but I’m too fragile and petty to handle that. Publication, Compensation – New West Havens



As long as you don't have to buy it dinner

Engineer Creates Sex Robot That Needs To Be Romanced First “Basically she likes to be touched. She has different modes of interaction ― she has romantic, she has family and she has also sexy modes,” Santos told Ruptly TV.



Confirming that one does not really "buy" beer, one just rents it.

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San Diego brewery creates beer from 'toilet to tap' recycled water
The pure water program, which locals have nicknamed "toilet to tap," is a system that, once completed, will put recycled wastewater back into the fresh water system instead of into the ocean. The system is expected to provide one-third of the city's freshwater supply by 2035. Steve Gonzalez, Stone's senior manager of brewing and innovation, said the recycled water is in some ways superior to the brewery's current water supply, needing only the addition of some salts to be ideal for beer making. --- United Press


Do Republicans really think that fewer than 5,000 appointees can win against 2.8 million federal employees who have a vested interest in absolutely nothing changing?

If Trump wants to devolve power out of DC, he has to shut departments down.
Take the Department of Energy and put the nuclear weapons management under Department of Defense (or even Commerce, as Reagan wanted, to keep nuclear protection in civilian hands), split energy issues between Federal Energy Regulatory Commission and Interior, then shut its doors. Roll any necessary parts of Department of Education into Labor and send other responsibilities back to the states, then shut its doors. Once departments are shut down, bulldoze the buildings to the ground. Shatter them, plow them under, then build beautiful parks, Liberty Parks, over where the departments used to stand. Trump should also then consider “farming” some departments out to states, further breaking the leviathan apart. To Beat The Bureaucrats, Trump Needs To Shut Their Agencies Down


The open-borders left is perhaps the most deranged of today’s crackpot political sects.

The latest fad on the left is cosmopolitanism.
Open borders — a crackpot idea once associated with the libertarian right — is now being embraced by the lunatic left. The nation-state, we are supposed to believe, is a kind of inherently racist gated community, illegitimate because it distinguishes between citizens and foreigners and limits welfare benefits and voting rights to the former. Limiting welfare programs to citizen-taxpayers is “welfare chauvinism.” All laws regulating immigration, all border controls, are the moral equivalents of Jim Crow in the segregated South. The Fantasy Worlds of Politics | The Smart Set


A Real Life Ghost Story

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“Mr. H and I had not been in the house more than a couple of days when we felt very depressed,” she wrote.
The floors were covered with thick carpets that absorbed all sound of the family’s servants going about their tasks, and Mrs. H found the quiet a little overpowering. But even more disturbing than the silent footsteps of the people who were in the house were the noisy footsteps of people who weren’t there…or at least could not be seen with the naked eye. - - TIFO


But junking Obamacare is only the beginning.

The biggest story is that about $2 trillion will be repatriated and invested in the United States next year when President Trump holds a tax amnesty (dropping the corporate tax rate on overseas profits to 10 percent temporarily).

What a big deal it was when Ford announced after Trump won that it was investing a billion bucks in American plants.

That $2 trillion is like 2,000 Ford Motor Companies. That is almost three times as large as Obama's first stimulus, and instead of failing, it will work because companies will decide where to invest, not politicians. And instead of costing taxpayers $787 billion, the Treasury will add $200 billion from the amnesty tax on the repatriated money. Don Surber: Media misses story of its lifetime



Even fake news needs content, which is where fake science comes in.

There’s nothing better for a fake news story than a quote from a fake scientist, especially when the topic is human health.
Turn on the local fake newscast and there’s always at least one fake story on health or diet. Many of these shows now have a recurring health segment where one of the bubble heads puts on their serious face and talks into the camera about some new threat to your health, usually your diet. It’s all fake. Fake Science | The Z Blog


Stop whining. Stop crying. Stop complaining.

Stop prophesying inevitable doom.
Stop cowering and stop cucking. The constant defeatism among the civic nationalist Right is remarkable, especially when compared to the growing confidence of the Alt Right. Spanish Christians were conquered and ruled by Muslims for centuries and yet they still didn't give up hope, much less prophesy doom and defeat when they were still the overwhelming majority. The problem is not women, or immigrants, or the government, or the electorate, or anything else. The problem is you. - - Vox Popoli: The sin of Denethor


The civil war of the 1860s was geographically defined,

its manifestos canonical, the armies Napoleonic, the front was bounded and orderly, gallantry and honor were valued if not always practiced.
All in all, a classy affair as wars go. Contemporary civil wars are multi-cornered murderous brawls between partisan militias. Added to this are armed opportunists and the outright deranged. Front lines appear and disappear like summer squalls, alliances shift by the day, high-minded principles devolve into homicidal savagery while everyday life drifts into destitution and universal hunger. Woodpile Report


David Strickler was just a 23-year-old pharmacist’s apprentice in 1904 when he invented the world’s most beloved sundae: the banana split.

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The young pharmacist-in-training at Tassel Pharmacy enjoyed inventing new sundaes, which were popular among the young people from nearby St. Vincent College.
His pièce de résistance was three scoops of ice cream (vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate) nestled between a banana sliced lengthwise and topped with pineapple, chocolate and strawberry sauces, whipped cream, chopped nuts, and a maraschino cherry. The banana split, as it came to be known, cost 10 cents - double as much as the pharmacy's other sundaes.  Birthplace of the Banana Split- Latrobe, Pennsylvania | Atlas Obscura


Trump Is Making America Ballsy Again

the Trump Effect. It’s real.
Trump is raising American T levels again. Cucks are uncucking. Manginas are manning up. Libertardians are embracing nationalist populism. Mewling pissant black pillers are quaffing megadoses of BLINDINGLY WHITE PILLS and jamming the rhetorical shiv up the cavernous assholes of the degenerate freak poz dealers. Bear witness, brothers, to the Trump Effect in your lives. | Chateau Heartiste


Parents’ Manhattan Kindergarten Application Essay

Every day with Toile is full of a thousand questions:
“What’s the difference between Parma ham and prosciutto?” “Can I have a Hamilton birthday party?” “Mom, why did you go to PureBarre and Physique 57 today?” During her child-led, unstructured playtime on our drives to the Hamptons, she loves to ask our driver Hasaan all about how he rides his camels. He always tells her that not all people from Egypt ride camels and that he has lived in the United States for 27 years. It’s become a sweet little inside joke between them. - - McSweeney


Now THIS is a makeover.

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With the help of some scissors, hair dye, and a spiffy new outfit, Jose Antonio went from scruffy street dweller to classy hipster, and could hardly recognise himself afterwards. - - Bored Panda
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MSNBC’s Rachel Maddow is easily the manliest broadcaster currently on television,

with her free testosterone levels at any given moment measuring roughly 400% those of her lesbian coworker Chris Hayes. Maddow has a perma-smirk welded onto her face that is only slightly less annoying than the smarmy mug of world powerlifting champion and radical circumcision victim Sally Kohn. The Week That Perished

"The repeal of Obamacare sets the table for tax reform. The schedule is roughly Obamacare gone by the end of July, and tax reform in place by October 1st."

Grover Norquist: Here's what happened this week that guaranteed Trump's re-election and Republican gains in 2018 and 2020 Trump and Paul Ryan's plan to repeal Obamacare and begin to reform our healthcare system. It had many numbers. Only two mattered: taxes and spending.
CBO announced that the repeal bill reduces taxes by almost $900 billion and reduces federal spending by $1.2 trillion over the next decade. This reduces deficit spending by $300 billion over the next 10 years. Thus the CBO, as official umpire, announced that the GOP Obamacare repeal plan may be enacted through "reconciliation," the process that requires a simple majority in the House and only 51 votes in the Senate. No filibuster allowed.


There are many aspects of this truck gun debate. [Bumped]

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Yes, there could possibly be a time when you could leave a mass shooting,
sprint your 300 lb. body 150 yards to the back of the parking lot of the movie theater, fighting the hundreds of hysterical people trying to escape, unchain your AK74 shorty after fumbling with your key for the lock from under your back seat which is filled with 4 bug out bags, a kids car seat and 14 McDonalds bags of trash, put on your plate carrier and chest rig, then sprint 150 yards back in, fighting the flow of the crowd, manage to not alarm them being kitted up like a SWAT member with your rifle at high port, smoke check the shooter, and manage not to be shot by responding Law Enforcement. But just exactly how likely is that? Defeating Doomsday Derp: Redemption in the 3rd Act by John Meyers | ZeroGov


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