Doesn’t that sound impressive? Well, anyhow, here is the days until Spring (the Vernal Equinox), and the percentage of days with daylight hours less than today’s number of daylight hours (for the hemisphere having summer time).
There will be a full solar eclipse of the Sun by the Moon, on Monday, April 8th, 2024. The path of eclipse totality begins in Dallas at 2:42PM (adjust scroll bar of link for time and path of totality), and continues through Eastern Canada around 3:38PM.
I remember the last solar eclipse, in August of 2017. The air cooled off temporarily — with the sun’s rays blocked, that can be expected; and birds suddenly flyed around, as if confused.
Please do not view this solar eclipse without glasses specifically manufactured to view solar eclipses (like astronomy company, Celestron, sells — I do not get paid for any Other Letter recommendations). 3/12/24.
A saros is the periodicity of a solar eclipse (an eclipse cycle), or when a full solar eclipse returns to a single location. The Sun, Moon, and Earth, return to the same location after one saros. This duration is eighteen years, and ten, eleven, or twelve days. 3/15/24.
2024 is a leap year. This February has 29 days, not the usual 28. Every four years is a leap year, every hundred years is not a leap year, and every four hundred years is a leap year. Got that? Good.
[The following is an op-ed. I write op-eds, letters to the editor, for the Other Letter; and I do have an MBA, a Master of Business Administration.]
Everyone understands the bitcoin market for digital assets? Sure, a company becomes a bookkeeper, a registrar, for bit (zeros and ones) coin, without the underlying faith and credit of any principality. Bitcoin is money, or more realistically, a hopefully liquid substitute for money.
Most know by now that a bitcoin marketmaker is not much different than a casino in Monte Carlo, glamorous, yet only about the money. Bitcoin is speculative “fun,” if gambling is your fun.
If you ask for the opinion on bitcoin of a market maker on the NYSE trading floor, people who live and die capital exchange, I would bet they have a negative view of bitcoin. Paper currency used to be backed by silver, Silver Certificate issues. That was abandoned in favor of backing money by your confidence in the full faith and credit of the U.S. Treasury.
I would take silver, but I’ll accept a U.S. government voucher, you won’t see me putting money into bitcoin. Trump has stayed on the sidelines, even though he goes where the money is (if he could be brutally honest, and he cannot, I bet he would say the entire enterprise is frothy). Senator Elizabeth Warren said today that laissez faire bitcoin markets need to be regulated just as any other financial market.
The acid test for a currency is, is it a store of value. Hopefully, bitcoin is exchangeable for green bank script by the market maker specialist, or an investing, bit player. Well, if I had a million dollars of bitcoin, I still could not buy an ice cream cone with it. By the same token, if the dollar bill were to fail, we have reached the end times. Bitcoin buyer beware: Too much paper profits, too much Monopoly money, and not legal tender. Just saying.
[This is a reprise of an article I wrote several years ago.] The stars comprising the Winter constellation, Orion’s Belt are Alnitak, Alnilam, and Mintaka. These stars are 825.7, 1,359.0, and 918.8 light years from Earth, respectively. A light year is the distance light travels in one year at the speed of light (186,000 miles per second).
In other words, when you see Orion in the night sky, the photons that your retina senses, left the Constellation of Orion in Medieval times, in the years 1,199AD, 665AD, and 1,106AD, respectively. In a sense, you’re seeing history, cosmic history, before your eyes.
This is not really refutable — the extrapolation is simply based on well-established numerical constants — although almost impossible to believe. If those three stars were much closer, say 50ly away, then the light photons would have left in 1974, which sounds much more plausible. As a light source emanates from a point, it spreads wider, eventually dissipating in lumninosity. Radial light diminishes in intensity (to darkness) over distance traveled, doesn’t it, yes?
The point being, these stars might be much closer than the 4,839,199,200,000,000 miles of the nearest one, when Alnitak distance from Earth is computed to be:
825 light years X 365 days per year X 24 hours per day X 60 minutes per hour X 60 seconds per minute X 186,000 miles per second = 4,839,199,200,000,000 milesas determined by a light year of 186,000 miles per second. This makes space travel to distant civilizations much more possible.
Of course, I might be wrong about the stars being closer than thought before, but I don’t see how. The Inquisition tried to prohibit Copernicus’ conclusion that the Sun did not revolve around the Earth, but vice versa. I just hope there isn’t an auto-da-fé in my future for judging a conclusion about the Heavens as heresy.
This is a seperate conjecture: How did Einstein arrive at 186,000 miles per second as the speed of light, before there were even refrigerators, let alone sophisticated astronomical equipment. I turn on the light to a room, and I can sense that the light from the light bulb cannot travel anyhwere near that fast.
I am probably wrong, but his estimate for the speed of light sounds far, far too fast. If Einstein’s determination of the speed of light is overestimated, and the light year determinations are held constant, than the constellations are much closer than originally perceived to be.
Speaking of a new, scientific possibility judged heresy, is nuclear energy even possible? Can the most fundamental unit of solid matter like uranium be split in two? Are there vast amounts of energy in small amounts of matter as the mass-energy equivalence maxim would dictate?
Yet only uranium could be used to harness the potential of this property, not potatoes? Potatoes also have atoms. At room temperature, you’d think that they possess similar kinetic energy. A hot potato maybe hotter than uranium, yet I digress.
When Einstein wrote his Generalized Theory of Relativity, WWI, the war of the trenches, was well under way. The casualties were catastrophic. If a petrifying, super-weapon existed, there would be no more war. Annihilation would be certain. This mass-energy equivalence implied the existence of this horrifying super-weapon. Otherwise, Hiroshima and Nagasaki amounted to Dresden fire-bombing.
Regardless, if atom-splitting is possible, then Long Island’s Shoreham nuclear power plant should have easily been built. My theory, is that if you connect a light bulb at the output line of a nuclear plant, it will stay dim. Nuclear energy projects are boondoggles. One more point, Russia has the nuclear bomb, what is stopping them from leveling the Ukraine. All’s fair in war, or are there gradations of war? But what do I know, I just write a blog that gets ten readers a day...
One more aside, before the men in white coats (or navy blue jackets) arrive, endeavor today is predicated on money, making a buck. Could Einstein have created wild theories, in part, to publicize his findings, and thus buttress his career in academia? This may sound so disingenuous, and heartless, but hey, ultimatley, aren’t we all in it for a buck? Economics is called the dismal science, see why? Guess what I majored in at the Brook?
If you don’t want your Junior to read this, there are parental control apps to block websites.
Some of the articles in this web log of personal experience are G-rated, some would be R-rated by certain cohorts, but mostly this is PG, without parental guidance, the site may be too adult for teenagers. There is never any porn, although I have posted pictutes of cleavage in the currently out-of-commission Panthoen of Hollywood Women. I do not approve of substance abuse, I am a child of the Sixties, I have seen the damage done.
I will say from the outset, Republicans may not like this site at all, because I am a registered Democrat, and I want my party’s candidates to be elected to office. I have complimented Republicans, but not nearly as often as Repulbicans reading would hope.
Christians may not like this website as well, because I have a literal interpretation of the Bible. I have discussed this in detail before: The Gospel According to Saint Luke, Chapter 24:39,41, states that Christ is “of flesh and blood,” and asking, “have you here any meat,” post-Crucifixion. Jesus the Christ is not a spirit. This does not sit well with many Christians, even though this is straight from the Holy Bible. In my estimation, Christ is a good philiosopher, but not an immortal. That’s my belief, you have your belief.
Anyhow, read something else, if this is not your interest. You can block your teenagers from reading any website with parental controls. Parents should have parental controls anyhow to block pornography, which is far worse than reading about Trump’s Muslim ban.
Madge and Douglas are sitting in a somewhat spare kitchen, with a video camera in front of them. They’re wearing matching “Madonna, Madonna, Madonna,” t-shirts, his in red, hers in green.
“I’m Madge—”
“And I’m Douglas—”
“And we’re here to discuss the secret meanings behind Steely Dan’s Aja—”
“For all our Youtube friends—”
“Followers—”
“Yes, followers. You complete my sentences.”
“Yeah.”
“We’ll come right out and say it—”
“We lost our jobs at a big tech company.”
“We tried to unionize.”
“C’mon, Dougie, our last day, we tried to set the employee cafeteria ablaze.”
“After our unionization efforts failed.”
“With our unemployment running out, we have branched into music appreciation Youtubes.”
“That’s right, Madge. Okay, got my notes. Let’s begin. Aja was Steely Dan’s best album. Can I say that, Madge?”
“You just did.”
“The Dan begins: ‘Up on the hill.’ Which hill is this? The hill of Damocles? Edinburgh has seven hills, maybe the Dan means one of those.”
“Dougie, it’s the Sword of Damocles, not the hill. Peril at every turn? I keep forgetting, you’re coding, not Engligh lit.”
“Peril at what? Do you remember we worked on the Milkgate Proposal? I brought over the spec, but we both had trouble with the nutritional labeling. Remember that?”
“Yeah, I do. And what was the gate in Milkgate? Sure it was a dairy, but it was about linear programming cheese. That’s the notes I got from you, linear programming cheese.”
“Madge, Mayhock Industries—”
“I remember them, we worked there twenty years—”
“They needed us to maximize Milkgate’s cheese recipe for flavor and, and, price.”
“That’s right, it was over priced, it was skim milk, and the profits were skimmed by local farmers, mind you. Not a popular target, local farmers.”
“We opened the floodgates to Milkgate’s Milkgate, Dougie.”
“Wasn’t it like Watergate, kinda, wasn’t it?”
“It was. It was, Dougie.”
“Too bad, all this we thought was under the table, was legal.”
“The local farmers were all legit. So we got fired for scandalizing the cheese at Milkgate.”
“Hmm. [Looks at notes.] Angular banjoes, do you get this? You read Ulysses.”
“Angular banjoes, no. Give me another one.”
“Why do the people on the hill just don’t care, Madge?”
“They are on the hill, they are the chosen ones. Got anything else?”
“Why Aja, and not the continent?”
“You mean, why not Asia?”
“Yeah.”
“Aja is a woman.”
“Quit while we’re ahead?”
“Yes, I got some food stamps left. Can dinner be just soup broth?”
“Sure. Youtube followers, see you next week for—”
“I think we said we’d do Stairway, talk about Stairway to Heaven.”
“Is that Beatles?”
“No, I think that’s Bread, Bread, the group, not the appetizer.”
“Bread is an appetizer?”
“Sure, c’mon, Dougie, before a meal?...”
Katherine, Princess of Wales, and William (Bill to his friends), often mingle with the townies far afield from Kensington Palace. One recent Royal parade, this time to low-tech center Sprocket Shire, brought up a conflict they have faced.
There is a pocket or two of poverty (as there is anywhere else) in the far, far, North of Wales, near the Shire of Mopsweep. The Royal parades are not always so happily greeted by the locals. At Sprockets (its nickname, they drop the Shire), a few parade-goers did not embrace the spirit of Windsor greatness, that Kate and Bill evidence. They pelted the Royal second-in-line to the throne with tomatoes (think Spain’s Tomatino Festival at harvest).
Said the ever so diplomatic Kate: “They did this to us last year, we enjoy Sprockets, but a few Sprocketeers don’t quite enjoy the celebration as much as others. Before we returned to Sprockets, we set out pamphlets outlining proper appreciation of the Royal motorcade. At Sprockets, we don’t leave the motorcade, we stay inside the limousine, and wave.”
Said Prince William, always the gentleman: “Most cities, we’re greeted warmly, but I don’t know, the Sprocketeers really don’t like these British pride events. I’m saddened, we try to bring good will, and commerce, we’re ambassadors, but it’ll be good to get back to home base in London.”
Attribution: Although I am trilingual (actually quadrilingual, I speak Navajo),
the four translations here, are provided by translate.google.com.
Si no quiere que su hijo lea esto, existen aplicaciones de control parental para bloquear sitios web.
Si vous ne souhaitez pas que votre Junior lise ceci, il existe des applications de contrôle parental pour bloquer les sites Web..
If you don’t want your Junior to read this, there are parental control apps to block websites.
Plu noot gruw den ulda tak den noot eur grav pic, noot prud, noot nakt cee est de wist.
Do you feel beaten by life, or the American Dream? Never give up. Speak to someone, a counselor, a family member or a relative, a friend, or call 988. Help is always available.
Depending, there may be times when one is facing much adversity, and plowing forward is the best course, just keep going ahead, in other words. You can give up on many things in life, but giving up on life itself, must never be one of them. This is talking about life in the abstract, yet I often do just that: I go about the business of life, even though there are lots of distractions, and even, detractors.
If you find yourself in a difficult, even untenable, situation, try to learn something from the experience. That’s what I do, and I am better for it.
I don’t have the statistics, and if they’re available, they may not even be accurate, but do African Americans have an unusually statistically-significant rate of suicide?
Because of continual discrimination, racism, and oppression, the urge to take one’s life may be acute, and the abnormal suicide prevalence among Blacks may not be entirely unexpected.
(Just might be a good idea to raise the topic as sweeping under the rug life’s ills may lead to suicide.)
I had a nice meal tonight: filling, nutritious, yet not too many calories. What did I eat, you ask? Eggs scrambled in a pat of melted butter, polenta pre-packaged then heated, salad with tomatoes, and a half of a bagel with strawberry preserves.
“I’m survival of the fittest. I’m Darwinian, that’s me, so Darwinian. Add Machiavellian to the mix, and I’m gangbusters to get ahead — gangbusters!”
Given that the IRS reviews every tax return for accuracy, they must have all the documents necessary to compute the return themselves. A lifelong Democrat would vote for Trump if he simplified the tax code down to the IRS just returning a receipt — of a refund, or an amount owed — half way through January.
Nazis, and their derivatives, are not Americans. They do not believe in freedom, especially for minorities. America was founded on freedom for all. Hitler acolytes demand obeisance to the State.
What do police officers have in the trunk of their patrol cars? That’s right, a picnic basket. Ever hear the expression: “Go to the trunk”?
Afterword: These are three catchphrases of Big Brother, the face of a totalitarian government, from the novel, Nineteen Eighty-four.
When doing laundry, a full bottle cap is too much detergent. Launderers should use the marks inside the cap to determine the amount of detergent poured. This laundry tip brought to you by your eco-friendly blog, The Other Letter.
I had wondered here if there really was an atom-splitting super weapon. Well, Russia supposedly has the nuclear bomb, but hasn’t dropped it on the Ukraine. Why is that? Maybe Russia doesn’t have the bomb to drop, even a scaled-down atomic bomb. Maybe, no one does. Maybe Hiroshima and Nagosaki were more fire bombings as in Dresden...
If there is no such thing as metals on the Periodic Table of the Elements with strange, explosive properties, then the nuclear arms race is a war deterrent, it is nuclear poker. Everyone has the same hand, equipped with boondoggle weapons that don’t work, but everyone thinks everyone else has the bomb.
No nation dare attack any nation suspected of being a nuclear power. How is there so much energy in a pound of uranium at room temperature, or any temperature? Hats off to Albert Einstein. He said there is explosive amounts of energy in basic metal. I say, Putin, why not light the fuse then.
Any reference to time that begins a sentence, is followed by a comma. The same for time references at the end of a sentence. Today, I am going to my house of worship to pray for Baltic and Gazan people. I went to the mall, everyday last week. By Sunday, did this set some kind of record? You really need a pause between the reference to time, and the rest of the sentence.
You’ve heard people say, “You’re God!” Yet, what if that were an elected position, that somehow someone could be chosen as God. I know, for one, that I do not possess the eternal patience, iron man stamina, and even the perpetual bon homie (good will) to be God. I just gotta be me. Cue, Sammy Davis, Junior.
Guys have a tendency to always look for upgrades to an existing relationship, even if what they have satisfies on many counts. For instance, there’s a new woman in accounting who looks like Kate Upton or Gwyneth Paltrow (who still looks good these days). You have a long-term relationship with Betty, but you want Sue now (Kate or Gwyneth).
I would suggest that unless Betty is getting into drink or smoke, stick with Betty. I’m gearing up to write an advice column for the New York Times entitled, natch, An Other Advice Column. Each week, I’ll field questions about romance, dating, and sex. Pay will be nominal to start, but Times editors claim it could go to high four figures. We shall see.
If I may reiterate for new readers here: Have a little fun before you die; and try not to be an a-hole.
I was leafing through a industrial office supplies catalog I get fairly regularly (not sure why I’m on their mailing list). Usually, I am better shopping the retail chain for these items, but this time I found some interesting, humorous things I could buy if I was very, very flush with cash. Labels to put on any object: “OK TO SHIP” (on a window. say); “MON” (Monday); and “LIVE ANIMALS” (on a shoebox, for instance).
These labels come in rolls of 500 so I will always be ready to use them with my work as a writer (of sorts, I guess), to give them away, or to use discreetly on various paperwork for anyone else.
Sugar and Honey, together forever, made for one another. Blessed be their union of souls. Now, is this more of a physical relationship or an emotional one? Both? Then in what proportion?
Post 9/11, unholy are the Wi-Fi, Internet-protocol addressable, untaped remote sensor, newer TVs, TV Internet-tappers, and laptops? Or so says any person of interest.
A “terrorist special” is what someone gets who’s suspected of planning to blow up buildings. This could be inferior, substandard, food, lodging, or paid services of any kind, that the suspect receives due to the activities of a witch hunt, or lynch mob. It might be a smoke-tinged room at a hotel or motel, food with insects, or even, general surliness at the point-of-sale.
If one is green with envy, they are subsumed by the “green-eyed monster” (a 12-Step catchphrase). This envy can be remedied by thinking of faults of the other who seems to “have it all.” Their fault can even be that they have it all, and we don’t.
My understanding is that the Nazis were overwhelmed with envy of the Jewish people’s level of prosperity, which was due to being well-trained, and/or well-educated.
A hidden factory is a term in economics (and management theory) describing workers who do nothing constructive, and who do not add to the bottom line of profitability, or who do not otherwise produce anything of utility. Yet they are kept on, because they erroneously appear to be worthy of further employment. Their lack of usefulness is hidden.
I took a temp job in Downtown Manhattan in 1985. It was a two hour commute each way: a half hour to the train station; an hour to Penn Station; and a half hour on the Number Two train (if I am not mistaken it was the local, not the Number Three, the express). That’s four hours of commuting. I made decent money for about a month.
But that’s not why it wasn’t really working out. This was trade processing for Citicorp, on Wall Street. I wrote a ticket for a trade for $32 million that, was it JP Morgan, DK’ed — they didn’t expect it. The trade was not processed. Anyhow, I did make decent money for about a month.
In retrospect, I think they may have been pulling my leg. In other words, why are you commuting four hours a day? Remember us with this bogus trade. Jobs later in my career were much more local, understandably.
[In case you’re wondering if I attempted to steal $32 million. A, I don’t steal; and B, $32 million doesn’t just walk away, $32 million doesn’t go unnoticed in the Canyons. Besides the money, you know what was also good about this little adventure, the Au Bon Pain sandwich shop, and the sushi by Battery Park, which I could easily afford.]
I understand the “grand mosaic.” How to determine where someone might live from just income level, and personality.
Here is an example: A wealthy person speaks highly of their educational background, and they seem citified somehow, that is, very comfortable mixing with others. I would say they are from the Jewish enclave of Five Towns in Western Nassau County (near the New York City borough of Queens): Woodmere; Inwood; Lawrence; Cedarhurst, and “The Hewletts.”
Or say someone has more modest beginnings, rather humble but affable, and now in management. They may be from Levittown. If someone works in the financial district in Lower Manhattan (as I did many moons ago), they may be very local to Manhattan, say in Western Queens.
Another dimension besides socioeconomic class is political affiliation. Some towns on Long Island lean Left, and some lean Right. Those that seem more hawkish than dovish, or more orthodox probably live in towns where they’re like their neighbors.
There are plenty of other examples, but I have been able to do this several times, and those who I can say where they’re from, tell me this is uncanny (and I do not use those online database sites). All this might have implications for forensic research.
Who is your favorite U.S. President? Mine is Thomas Jefferson, in spite of the fact that he owned over two-hundred African Americans. Mister Jefferson was responsible for the First Amendment of the United States Constitution, freedom of expression, speech, and the press. A people will perish without the ability to redress grievances (hmm, China?)
Did you ever hear a song that seems so unnaturally self-satisfied, and conceited, that you wonder why it was ever made. Doris Day sang along the lines of Everyone Loves Me, which would qualify as a conceit song, except she’s so sweet and wholesome, it didn’t come off as a conceit song.
She also pulled this off because the next clause of that lyric, is everybody loves me, since I met you, you did very well by me. Ms. Day turned what could be a conceit song, into a beautiful sentiment of love, a love song.
“The Party Precinct was closed for good once their man hunting, and their complete dearth of ticket writing, was exposed.”
If you cannot be grateful for a little, you won’t be grateful for a lot.
“Where’s the booze?! Where’s the booze?! Hey, you! Hey, Pilsner! Where’s the—”
African Americans tend to be more social than Caucasians, and sociometric studies have shown that Blacks have many more summer barbecues than Whites. Blacks are also more comfortable working the night shift, and eating food with unpronounceable, anti-caking ingredients, like monophosphate triglycerides, also found in laundry detergent. Blacks have their own music, and I do not mean Michael Jackson.
Premise: A full-blood Navajo, Matt Damon, meets Plains woman, Ashley Judd, on the trail West. They discuss routes, and the Navajo guarantees safe passage to ORegon, if she does just one thing. That’s right, teach him the English language, as they mostly faux sign language one another. Drama a plenty, as the Navajo saves Ashley from savage attacks. Hilarity ensues as Ashley tries to get Matt to say the word, “Mississippi.” Matt explains to Ashley the thirty words that Navajos have for different types of snow.
Name a nation that incarcerates without justification, and without sentence limits.
“Today might be a good day.” There are peoples over the course of human history, that could not say even that. Because of persecution, war, poverty, or disease, they simply kneew a good day was impossible — and if you’d imagine this grimness was more recent than the Holocaust, you would be correct.
Improvement is the approach to perfection. Perfection is the final, ultimate goal. On a spiritual basis, one improves towards perfection, but never reaches it, because a perfect human, is no longer human, they have crossed an uncrossable threshold, they have become the unthinkable, a god, with all the powers invested therein.
There’s nothing wrong with Catholics not wanting abortions for themselves, or campaigning to stop the practice for anyone in their Church. What riles me, and plenty of others, is when the Catholic Right tries to end reproductive rights for those who aren’t even Christians. Your body is all yours to reproduce, Catholic Right, same goes for anyone else.
A human embryo, in the first trimester, is the morphological equivalent of a worm. Embryos are not people. Granted, an abortion is not a welcome procedure, yet it prevents teen motherhood, unplanned parenthood, family drain on resources, and welfare moms. Back room abortions will take the place of the safe reproductive care of Roe v. Wade. Thankfully, the Catholic Left can be, and are in significant numbers, right-to-choose.
An aside, abortion clinics have been bombed by domestic terrorists, but never anti-abortion clinics. Why is that? Abortions save women’s lives, their futures, prevent children unwanted by their biological parents, and has for millenia. You are free to dislike my op-ed pieces, my “letters to the editor.” This is America. Get off my back. Just read something else; or write your own blog (with Wordpress, Joomla, or Drupla, e.g.). Otherwise, good riddance.
(Here’s a little joke: What do you call a Catholic who’s right-to-choose? A Jew.)
(I’m trying to make this as PG as possible.) Premise: A couple back from a Vegas wedding, is enjoying their marital responsibilities when the husband, wanting to try something new, brings out handcuffs, and handcuffs his wife. She laughs at first, then says, “na, unlock them.” The husband cannot find the lock.
At 2AM, they finally find a locksmith to unlock the handcuffs. The locksmith visits, and cannot unlock the handcuffs, tries to look the other way, charges $100 for after-hours call.
The in-laws have flown in for lunch from Atlanta to meet the woman for the first time. The couple knew this. They try to cancel lunch. The couple cannot get in touch with the in-laws in time.
The in-laws drop in. The husband pulls a sweater over his wife, but cannot fit her arms in the sleeves, because, well, she’s handcuffed still. The husband said his wife took ill, she doesn’t join the husband for lunch in their dining room.
The wife is heard calling her husband to help her. He ignores her pleas, explaining to his in-laws that she has a fever of 105°, and she just has to be kept separated from everyone else...
To my detractors, and erstwhile editors: This is my blog, not your blog. If you want your opinion heard, write your own blog, do not expect your opinion to appear on my blog.
We have it good in America. We can do whatever the Hell we want — within the law. The United States is an affluent nation. We have the resources, and oftentimes, the inclination, to care for the poor. Laws are in place, and enforced (or enforced upon judicial review), to protect the vulnerable.
What exactly is worthy of contempt?
Respect is deserved, as is contempt.
I’m practicing my Navajo: “Muka du moot fomel, den ut das mud, crub.” I was going to take my Indian, or my Husqvarna, to the Black Hills for the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally.
[Canadian Edition of OL. I feel obligated to mention: Always wear your helmet; obey all speed limits; have burial plans established; or go legally off-road, My uncle and my cousin rode dirt, motocross bikes competitively, down in Boston.]
When might you make this remark? “That’s alright — for now.” For me, it is about reaching my goal weight.
Where is the Battle of the Bulge won: the kitchen table, or the gym? We asked several experts at the annual food and fitness convention in Stuttgart, and they had this—oh, never mind.
Premise of this Spring’s blockbuster, instant classic: A high-profile blogger — they’re leaning in so he fears for his life — clear-tapes over his wi-fi TV on-lights, and laptop cams. Is he insane? Or has the post-9/11 electronics consortium made equipment that beams video from within one’s home? Who knows?
Who knows who’s watching this liberal of tepid repute, this empath of importance in Lefty circles, this exposé writer? Will he reveal this top-secret classified secret before “the government” clamps down on his oxygen supply? Will he save the world from this tool of the trade of the totalitarian state? Is every home world-wide, flip-a-switch, surveillance-ready? Is everyone’s business, Big Brother’s business?
In the tradeoff between national security and privacy rights, is a tradeoff necessary? Is there a better way to gather intelligence on criminal activity without watching every movement, every day, every year, of anyone, or with AI, of everyone?
As closing credits roll, our hero accepts a prestigious award from the Excelsior Minister of the Assembly of Galaxies.
An Alfred Hitchcock-Orson Welles-1984 chiller-thriller, coming to your neighborhood theater, April 17th.
Logline: After Welles, our grandparents never looked at the planet Mars quite the same way; and after Hitchcock, our parents never looked at birds or showering the same way again. Post-Watergate, and with Woodward and Bernstein, America never looked at public servants as they did before. After seeing C.A.M.E.R.A. Unit, we will never look at a TV the same way again.
Rated PG, for adult situations. An aside, I read 1984 in my 9th grade English class.
This world needs fewer hawks, and more doves; fewer fighters, and more lovers; as well as less marchers, and more dancers.
[This item has strong material about lynching.] Billie Holliday was a famous blues singer from the 1930s to 1950s. One song that was a staple in her repertoire was Strange Fruit. This is an upbeat, double-time song about what? You guessed it, lynching. What is strange fruit? You guessed this. An African American hanging from a tree. They are just tree fruit, kinda strange at that. The South could not get any more virulently racist than that. Pass the air sickness bag.
“Forgive them, for they know not what they do.” Yet, sometimes they do know exactly what they’re doing. What then, what spiritual recourse then? Well, they live by the wrong god, not one of love, but one of war.
There’s good, worthwhile science, which produces logical conclusions, and doesn’t obfuscate. Then, there is very weak science which confuses, and generally exists to fulfill some economic agenda.
Above is responsible for all life.
Deoxyribonucleic Acid, or DNA, is collectively the genome, the blueprint for humanity. This blueprint, the DNA, is a binary encoding of a sequence of two nucleotides, of two pairs of amino acids: adenine/thymine, and cytosine/guanine.
Somehow, these two pairs of protein create fingers, legs, and most miraculously, our brains, which can think, remember, and reason. Doesn’t this seem so far-fetched as to be next to impossible? Yet, the DNA model of double helix laddered nucleotides define all mankind.
It is just incredible, isn’t it, that the miracle of life is predicated upon a real miracle, binary amino acid encoding.
OL PSA: Drugs, including alcohol, can be a coping mechanism, that become a crutch, that become a habit, then become an addiction.
Regardless of one’s age, they weaken the user over time, and tend to empty wallets as well. Without substance usage, one is in a better position to deal with all thrown their way in the course of years.
Happy people do not require a drink, a snort, or a smoke, to be happy. Their minds are clear, their confidence is enhanced knowing they get by just fine without a monkey on their back.
At the 2024 Grammys, Joni Mitchell, who’s eighty-years-of-age, sang “Both Sides Now”. And you know what? She reached every note — such a pleasant surprise. I thought this would be cringe-worthy, but not at all, she had full command of her voice. The legend from Canada lives on.
When choosing a significant other, all roads lead back to the one you love the most.
I heard it said that men make the best choice from a pair of alternatives, while women make the best choice from many alternatives.
Who’s that guy? Every woman in the place wants him. What’s he got, that I don’t?
Jack, I heard he reads The Other Letter.
Oh, so that’s his secret. I’ll pick up a copy today at the newsstand.
Jack, it’s online only.
Then time to fire up the Amiga.
Jack, the what?
I never upgraded my PC, it’s from 1982. Anyhow, how much does this Other Letter cost?
It’s free, but I heard the blogger wants to start charging money and limit access, you know, like with porn sites.
It’s a porn site?
No, Jack, no porn, just good reading.
Geez, I hope he doesn’t start charging money.
I doubt it. Other Letter is good, but it’s not that good...
Whatever happened to Tank Man? This is the Chinese protester who stood in the path of tanks during the 1989, Tiananmen Square massacre. Was he “reeducated,” was he executed? Are there any parallels to America today?
Final score, courtesy Wikipedia: Gaza Palestinians, 32,569; Israeli Zionists, 1,475. Israel won, right? It’s just a game, isn’t it? Isn’t it?... [Obfuscated, such a touchy subject around here about the slaughter, and is reportage fair and balanced. Let’s keep in perspective the horrors of war.] 3/9/24.
Ever been to a place where everyone is walking around, half-dead? Did you speak to management about it?
My grandfather had five lessons for his son, my father:
There are coaches that can trounce yours with his (or hers), as well as trounce his (or hers) with yours. The Green Bay Packers’ Vince Lombardi in football was one, UCLA’s John Wooden in basketball was another, the New York Giants’ Bill Parcells in football is another, and Bill Belichick formerly of football’s New England Patriots is another all-time winner.
Have you ever taken the time to review your own mortality, and your time on this Earth? Did you accomplish all in life that you had hoped? Have you been taking care of your health? So you’ll likely have a long life, and you’re somewhat assured that you will? Are there areas that you may have come up a little short, but you have a good idea why you did?
Look at the bright side: You showed up, and you tried. At minimum, you get partial credit.
People pointing a finger at you, are really pointing four fingers at themselves. —12 Step
If you can afford nothing else for your home library, you should at least have a dictionary (not a Latin one) — and you should have a current library card.
Do you ever get the impression that long-standing facilitators of personal happiness are finally going your way?
When you were in school, were you there to learn, or were you there for grades, getting good grades? My generation had the luxury of being there to learn, and I could be wrong, but I’m afraid later generations, because of competitive pressures, are in school solely to “get the grades.”
“At least in Hell, you know you’re there for a reason.”
Do you honor the magnificence of Creation with your life, your acts, your good works and good will, as well as your aspirations? Those that reflect the nobility of all that people are capable of accomplishing, are blessed with good health, and a long life.
For all of you history buffs: The Nazis occupied France from May 1940 until Paris was liberated by the Allies on August 25th, 1944, and then all of France by December, 1944. Auschwitz was liberated by the Red Army on January 27th, 1945. WWII ended on September 2nd, 1945.
(WWII armistice is the day, by no small coincidence, that 59 years later, the Other Letter domain was registered, on September 2nd, 2004. I celebrate both anniversaries, some celebrate neither.)
Stenciled onto the door of the private jet of Elvis Presley is this acronym, “TCB,” or taking care of business. From a dirt-poor upbringing in Mississippi, he made a real, incredible life for himself, one cut short by prescription pills.
Herewith, the First Amendment of the United States Constitution:
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.
A journey of a thousand miles, begins with a single step.
As China is not well known (to me, at least) for honoring human rights, what do they do with underperforming factory cogs?
“I’m going into S & P 500 futures. That, or corn futures, depending on the Fed’s meeting today. My thinking: Say I go long index futures, and the economic growth is flat, then spurring the economy, easy money, inflationary pressures, will of course, eat into my return. I’m out of the money. But say interest rates rise, benchmark Treasury above five percent, the stock basket is overvalued, but fixed-income bond futures are a better bet. A sweetener equal to inflation, is added to interest rates to counter tight money. I could have a hedge strategy for the futures: Go long and go short concurrently, but that’s a bigger outlay, up-front. More commissions, contracts that aren’t resold, not in the money, or realized at striking, exercise, fixed-price — the price I call the index stocks off the market at expiration into my possession. This entire gambit depends on the Fed’s acknowledgement of Dutch tulip bulb production. Does Powell acknowledge the rainy Amsterdam Spring? Are my Fed tea-reading skills at par?”
Art is worth the self-sacrifice needed to create greatness. Just ask Michelangelo painting ceilings.
Who doesn’t like an underdog story? Although liking the underdog, loser-like, gets dicey, doesn’t it? Then the question becomes, how does one define an underdog? Perpetually behind the eight ball, unfavored and underrated, or loser-like, loser cum winner? In the history of cinema, perhaps the most popular underdog story is the one about Rocky Balboa, shakedown loanshark cum championship boxer.
“Now, I know for certain. There is a God overseeing the show, the game, giving us the power to prevail over evil, yet a Creator sometimes not too pleased, although fails often self-corrected by Creation design.”
“Repeal 2A.”
“Global villager, right on, bro’, global villager in a global village.”
To be a true, officer of the peace, one must be brave, committed to public service, and have a modicum of kindness.
“You can tell that woman’s got her act together — fit and trim, healthy, and happy.”
Remember when bumper stickers read, “Question Authority”? Those years are over, but did you retain that spirit of skepticism, and independent inquiry?
“What?! Wait one second! I can copy, then paste?!”
This, too, shall inevitably pass. The Earth shall turn.
There’s this notion of what is and what is not cool. Any age deals with what is really an impediment, a filter in place. People of other nations don’t really deal with this the way that America does.
I can’t say why that is, but being cool at any age is stifling, anti-intellectual, and U.S.-based. There are cool things to do or listen to, but I don’t see how it should be a priority in relationships, to sound cool.
There’s a difference between adroit usage of language, and unauthentic affectation or putting on airs.
Procrastinators have very high standards, which is commendable, except they’re paralyzed trying to reach these lofty ideals. Procrastination and perfectionism go hand-in-hand.
Alcohol addiction can be just as devastating as being addicted to cocaine, as well as heroin, and oxycontin. Drinking can give you the delirium tremens (the DTs), and give you water on the brain. Booze does have in its favor, its cost, it is not so expensive to have a six-pack or two, habit a week.
What is prohibitively expensive is narcotics, they will put you in the poor house indebted to very unsavory types, hocking all to pay for your habit. Any way you cut it, substance abuse is a major public health issue, one exacerbated simply by the cost of financing your monkey.
What is the most embarassing thing you’ve ever done, or had happen to you? Did this involve alcohol, or other drugs?
“Hmm, I like this stuff. Where are the marshmallows? Did anyone see the marshmallows? Where’s my belt, oh—”
Porn is not volunteer work. It is all about the money. No love lost.
I was recently conducting a field study in the wilds of Bakyadea, at the bird feeder. What do birds think of their plumage? Because birds cannot think, or at least, think deep thoughts, I conluded my study.
Yet, I did notice that the most distinctive feathers belong to the Cardinal, who was also the most paranoid bird in my study. Mister Cardinal could hardly eat, he was looking around so much (he was all-red, not brownish-red as the female is).
The reason for the discomfort dawned on me: Hawks can spot those bright red feathers from dozens of yards away, but not the munching-away, brown-camouflaged wrens and sparrows.
There is a larger lesson in this for women and men who look much better or worse than average, who stand out in a crowd. They might get a bit apprehensive wondering if they’ll be approached by, well, aggressive, hawkish types, looking for a meal ticket of one kind of another.
Can you imagine if everyone on Earth reached their goal weight? What a wonderful world this would be. Sing it, please, Satchmo...
There is a movement under foot regarding extreme disease. It is called the Medical Aid in Dying Act. Essentially, if enacted, this would allow for assisted suicide by pill. I can see getting off all meds before death — say when the cure is worse than the disease — but really jump start the Grim Reaper? I’ll tell you, if you need to die that bad, we can just get you a rope. (Both my parents had cancer diagnoses, but apparently, as evidenced by MRI scans I found of theirs, they had no visible cancerous tumors.)
There are certainly times, when it does indeed feel good to be alive. Much of the time we’re just running around, trying to get stuff done, or “catching our breath” from such.