Neither Here Nor There  (a Web Log) 

 

 

 

 

Monday, March 8th, 2010                                                 Happy Birthday Patrice (and Jane)!

 

Advice For Single Women:

 

If you want someone who will eat whatever you put in front of him and never say it's not as good as his mom's...
If you want someone who is always willing to go out with you, at any hour, for as long and wherever you want...
If you want someone who will never touch the remote, doesn't care about football and can sit next to you while you watch a drippy movie...

If you want someone who is content to get on your bed to warm your feet and whom you can push off if he snores...
If you want someone who never criticizes you, doesn't care if you're fat & ugly and for whom every word you say is worth hearing...

If you want someone who loves you unconditionally...


then get a dog.


But...if you want someone to walk all over you...not come when you call...someone to ignore you when you come home and leave his hair everywhere...someone who stays out all night and only returns to eat and sleep...someone who acts as if your only purpose in life is to ensure his happiness...

 

 then click here.

 

 

Sunday, March 7th, 2010                           Happy Birthday, Dawn!

 

When I see a kid with three or four rings in his nose, I know there is nothing extraordinary about him.

There's a whiff of the lynch mob about any overlarge concentration of like-thinking individuals.

 

P. J. O'Rourke

 

 

 

Saturday, March 6th, 2010

 

 

 

 

 

Friday, March 5th, 2010

 

Elder Humor:

 

I've sure gotten old: two bypass surgeries as well as hip & knee replacements. I beat prostate cancer and manage to live with diabetes. I'm half blind and can't
hear anything quieter'n a jet engine...I take 40 different medications that make me dizzy, winded, and cause me to blackout occasionally. I also have bouts of
dementia...can't remember if I'm 89 or 98. Poor circulation: can hardly feel my hands and feet anymore.

I've outlived all my friends but I'm fortunate 'cuz at least I've still got my driver's license!

 


 

My body was totally out of shape, so I got my doctor's permission to join a fitness club and start exercising. I signed up for an aerobics class for seniors.

I bent, twisted, gyrated, jumped up and down and perspired for an hour...but by the time I got my leotards on, the class was over.

 


 

God grant me the senility to forget the people I never liked anyway,

the good fortune to run into the ones I do...

and the eyesight to tell the difference.

Thursday, March 4th, 2010

 

 

 

 

Wednesday, March 3rd, 2010

 

OK...the next time you're feeling sorry for yourself...consider the plight of thirty-nine year-old  Dede Koswara...on the Indonesian island of Java. He suffers (and I DO mean 'suffers') from a (thankfully) rare genetic disorder which allows warts to flourish nearly unabated on his body...particularly on his hands and feet (and who knows where else?). His wife bailed, saying the warts dampened her ardor. Below are the two most flattering pictures he could find...so he posted them on Match Dot Con but, so far, no takers. He complains that he can't get a date on a dare! Next up: eHarmony.

D
e was mostly normal until about twenty years ago when he sustained an otherwise minor laceration on one of his knees. Since then...the warts have taken over! The locals call him 'The Tree Man'! So...kwitcherbellyakin! Things could be a LOT worse!

 

 


 

Tuesday, March 2nd, 2010

 

 

She told him she was 30 but turned out to be 41. He couldn't ever figure out what she did for a living, though she claimed to sell high-end cosmetics. Also, she said she was going to move (from New York City) to Ohio to be with him...but never hired movers. She began making pricey demands, including that he buy a new BMW and book first-class tickets to Australia for their honeymoon. "No one travels coach to Australia," she told him. The final straw came when she insisted that his elderly parents not attend their wedding: "They've seen two already (referring to her future, already-married brothers-in-law). They've had their share."

H
e ended the engagement after less than two weeks. "For her, it was more about finance than romance," said he. In his lawsuit, he claims she intended to ditch him all along...and keep the $58,000 ring. When a reporter called her home, the woman who answered angrily hung up.

New York Post


Monday, March 1st, 2010                                     Happy Sixty-Fourth Birthday, Bobby!

 

 

For fifty-year-old Roy Messenger, of Elma, Washington...Friday was not his day. Well...it was his day...to die. At 9:23 PM, he wrecked his car. Why is the time known so precisely?  Well...because 9:23 PM is the time at which the local power station guys recorded an outage...later determined to have been caused by a downed power line. Roy had taken out the pole attached to the line (with his car) but he was not seriously injured. In fact, he was well enough to call and ask a buddy to come help him get his car out of the roadside ditch it was stuck in. But...while waiting for his buddy, Roy had to pee. Click here for the rest of the story!

 

Sunday, February 28th, 2010

 

What will become of dentists when tooth decay, misalignment and gum disease are conquered? And of policemen...and prison guards...when crime vanishes from society? How 'bout firemen? Clearly...any profession that arises from the need to fix or contain a problem...needs that problem! 
Pop psychologists do not tire of reminding us of the myriad things about which we should worry. A few weeks ago, I saw an article warning of the long-term deleterious consequences of being bored! Ooh! Or...suppose you find yourself lying awake at night worrying? Well...heads up! You should be worried...about worrying! It's not good for you!

So...what's the solution? Don't Worry, Be Happy? Uh...sorry! This morning I woke up to an article on the grave dangers associated with...being happy! Turns out that some clown from the University of New South Wales has done a study proving that being happy blows...and that happy people suck! Who coulda seen this comin'? What could be worse, you say? Well...in order to make a 'control groupunhappy, its subjects were forced to watch Angela's Ashes! Oh Cheezits!

 

 

"People in a positive mood generally rely more on their own thoughts and preferences, and pay less attention to the outside world and social norms, with selfishness the result.
 A negative mood produces a thinking style that is more detailed and attentive, and pays more attention to the demands of the external environment.
"
 Yeah, right!

 

Uh...I think it was Rudyard Kipling (or somebody) who wrote:

 

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;

Then perhaps you have misappraised the situation.

...or something like that.
 

 

Saturday, February 27th, 2010

 

 

It's entirely possible that Tiger Woods is far more messed up and clinically depressed than his juvenile, low-grade adoration of hookers, porn stars and skeevy Vegas waitresses would let anyone believe. Let us acknowledge that possibility for a moment, as a means to justify the guy's absolutely deadly blandness, his unbearable contriteness, his refusal to show even a wisp of lightness or spark of shrugging get-over-it-edness. Maybe he's really dead inside. Maybe it's deeper and sadder than anyone knows.
But here's the bigger truth: Tiger wasn't apologizing to actual people, to his wife or kids or even his confused fans. Tiger was apologizing, straight up and to the bone, to capitalism itself. To his own brand. It was a scary attempt to shore up the multimillions in endorsement deals, his future as a billion-dollar icon. Tiger the man was apologizing to Tiger, Inc., mostly for tainting its earnings potential. It's the golden rule of capitalism: don't fuck with a hot brand. It's blasphemy of the highest order, made doubly potent by the fact that we're the ones who helped create the brand in the first place, who bought into the saccharine lie and absurd marketing BS of Tiger's impossibly squeaky faultlessness.

Mark Morford

 

 

Friday, February 26th, 2010

 

It's not always true that we must choose between good and evil...or between the lesser (or greater) of two evils.

Often, we must choose between the greater (or lesser) of two 'goods'.

 


 


Thursday, February 25th, 2010

 

 

 

 

 

Wednesday, February 24th, 2010

 

 

Imagine leading a life so leisurely and blessed that you agonize over the name of a local peak!

Meet Art Mijares. Yesterday, he appeared before the Contra Costa County Board of Supervisors to urge the renaming of Mount Diablo. "To me and millions of other followers of the Christian faith, the devil is derogatory, pejorative, offensive, obscene, blasphemous and profane", said Art (whose request to go on to list the devil's bad traits was summarily denied ).

For the monolingual: 'diablo' is Spanish for 'devil'.

 

And with what name would Mr. Mijares, were he king, replace Mount Diablo? Answer: Mount Ronald Reagan.

 

Okie Dokie.

 


 

Tuesday, February 23rd, 2010

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Monday, February 22nd, 2010                George Washington was born 278 years ago. Ted Kennedy was born 78 years ago.

 

A few weeks back, I ran across an enigmatic quotation. It has a Neitzschean ring to it, but it comes from W. Somerset Maugham, a man who lived ninety-one years and who eloquently complained, not about the physical limitations of his years but, rather, of  'the burden of [his] memories'. I'm beginning to understand what he meant by this 'burden'. There are so many things, in the end and after all, that an older person is left (only) to ponder...but that he cannot affect...that he cannot change. So many 'what ifs' and 'why nots'...so many things done or not done...so many situations and people...understood at last, but too late. For 'then' was always 'now'.


But ruminate though I will, I still only speculate as to what the old goat meant when he wrote that 'a woman can forgive a man for the harm he does her; but she can never forgive him for the sacrifices he makes on her account.'

 

Hmmm...

 


Sunday, February 21st, 2010

 

 

 

Saturday, February 20th, 2010                              Patty Hearst is fifty-six years old.

 

Musings on Tiger Woods' public apology:

 

I am deeply sorry for my irresponsible and selfish behavior.

 

 

The worth of a promise is never known unless and until the day arrives when the person who made the promise does not want to keep it. Sometimes that's only a day after the promise is made. Here, during this second (and last) half of my life , color me bewildered by this rather recent concept of 'sexual addiction' and its attendant 'therapy': the 'rehab' that's supposed to 'cure' it. When did 'sexual addiction' become real? And when did it acquire the 'status' of a disease? I mean, throughout time, people have lied to each other and broken solemn promises. I, certainly, am not without my personal failings. There were times when I did not live up to my own 'standards'. And there will yet be times when I do not live up to those standards. 'For all have sinned and fall short of the Glory of God!' sayeth Scripture.

 

 It's hard to admit that I need help, but I do.  For 45 days, I was in in-patient therapy receiving guidance for the issues I'm facing.

Yes, there's nothing recent or 'modern' about people acting on their desires...pursuing what they want in the 'short term', often with scant regard to the 'side effects' of their behavior: the 'consequences' to themselves and others. And, almost invariably, when people break their promises, they have already prepared a set of rationalizations...reasons for their perfidy.

 

I felt that I had worked hard my entire life and deserved to enjoy all the temptations around me. 

I never thought about who(m) I was hurting. 

I knew my actions were wrong, but I convinced myself that normal rules didn't apply.

 

And at first, if not forever, they'll blame someone else for what they, themselves, are choosing to do. To call reckless and dishonest behavior a disease...a disorder...seems calculated (by pseudo-scientific, self-serving psychologists) to relieve the 'sufferer' (the liar, the promise breaker) from personal responsibility. But 'sexual addiction', if there is such a thing, is not amoebic dysentery...it's not something you 'catch'! Neither is it something you 'cure'.

 

BTW: I'm ever amused by the Viagra commercials which warn of an erection lasting longer than four hours...and counsel us to call our doctors in the event of such an 'emergency'. Hell..at my age, if I had an erection lasting longer than four minutes...I'd call a press conference!

 

 

Friday, February 19th, 2010

 

What you'll be comforted to learn:

 

Kaiser said its gastrointestinal specialists have concluded that "the vast majority of any small foreign bodies ingested - even glass fragments - pass through the body within 2-3 days without complications." Whew! And so...not to worry about the glass soup that was served to the Hospitals' in-patients this week.
From the morning fish wrap.

 


 

The trick in conservative circles today is to see how furious you can get about Washington’s encroachment onto states rights without quite falling over the edge into Fort Sumter. Mitt Romney, who is good-looking, wealthy and blessed with a lovely family, is not, actually, very angry. He would like to be president and run the country like a business, but he is not the kind of guy who is in mourning for the Articles of Confederation. His most dramatic recent moment came when he was attacked by a fellow passenger on a flight home from the Olympics in Vancouver. A spokesman said Romney, who was not injured, was “physically assaulted” when he asked a man to raise his seat to an upright position before takeoff. Perhaps the assailant mistook Romney for a flight attendant.
Gail Collins
 

 

Thursday, February 18th, 2010

 

 

 

The communist creed: From each according to his ability, to each according to his need.
The capitalist creed: From each according to his gullibility, to each according to his greed.
Joe Stack (1956-2010), 02/18/2010

 

 



 

Wednesday, February 17th, 2010

 

 

 

 

Tuesday, February 16th, 2010

 

 

 

It was the politically greedy John McCain who placed the slipper of fame on her foot -- upon which she put it in her mouth. She said the most astounding things about foreign policy, later fibbed about death panels and, in general, did a spot-on imitation of a ditz. Alas, for both the right and the left, Palin is not a leader. She neither founded nor leads a movement and, as far as anyone can tell, has no ideas of her own. She's a validator, satisfying her audience's narcissistic urge to be told they are correct in their thinking. They look at her and see themselves. Ah, love.
Richard Cohen


  

 

Monday, February 15th, 2010  

 

 

 

 

 

This day marks the 49th anniversary of the first crash of a Boeing 707 in regular passenger service.

 

The plane crashed on its landing approach to the Brussels International Airport.

 

All seventy-two passengers were killed, including the entire eighteen-member United States Figure Skating Team as well as numerous family members, officials and coaches. 

 

The cause of the crash, while deemed 'mechanical' in nature, has never been conclusively determined.

 

The photograph, at left, shows the team boarding the ill-fated flight at New York's LaGuardia airport.




Sunday, February 14th, 2010

 

The stupid neither forgive nor forget;
 the naive forgive and forget;
 the wise forgive...but never forget.

If you talk to God, you are praying;
If God talks to you, you have schizophrenia.

 

When a man can no longer laugh at himself, it is time for others to laugh at him.

 

Dr. Thomas Szasz, MD

 

 


 

 

Saturday, February 13th, 2010                       Happy Birthday, Debbie!

 

Revised Songs From The Sixties

 

Bobby Darin ---Splish, Splash, I Was Havin' A Flash

 

 

Herman's Hermits ---Mrs. Brown, You've Got A Lovely Walker

 

 

Ringo Starr ---I Get By With A Little Help From Depends

 

 

Johnny Nash ---I Can't See Clearly Now

 

 

Paul Simon--- Fifty Ways To Lose Your Liver

 

 

Procol Harem--- A Whiter Shade Of Hair 

 

 

Leo Sayer ---You Make Me Feel Like Napping

 


 

 

 

 

Friday, February 12th, 2010

 

A coalition of atheist and agnostic groups have bought billboard space to tell like-minded individuals they are not alone.

 

Thursday, February 11th, 2010

 

The billboard, overlooking Interstate 35 in Wyoming, Minn., is scheduled to stay up until at least the end of February.

 

 

Wednesday, February 10th, 2010

 

What people say, what people do, and what people say they do are entirely different things.
Margaret Mead (1901-1978) 

 

 

Tuesday, February 9th, 2010            The 39th Anniversary of the San Fernando (Sylmar) Earthquake

 




What is written without effort...is read without pleasure."
Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Drag a hundred-dollar bill through a trailer park and you never know what you'll find."
 James Carville

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three mutts in Virginia over the weekend, courtesy of DeDe.

 

Monday, February 8th, 2010

 

Authorities do not know exactly how many people have been killed warbling “My Way” in karaoke bars over the years in the Philippines, or how many fatal fights it has fueled. But the news media have recorded at least half a dozen victims in the past decade and includes them in a subcategory of crime dubbed the “My Way Killings.”
The killings have produced urban legends about the song and left Filipinos groping for answers. Are the killings the natural byproduct of the country’s culture of violence, drinking and machismo? Or is there something inherently sinister in the song? Whatever the reason, many karaoke bars have removed the song from their playbooks.
New York Times

 

Sunday, February 7th, 2010

 

 

 

 

 

Saturday, February 6th, 2010                 The 59th Anniversary of the Woodbridge, New Jersey, Train Wreck

 

 

 

 

 

Friday, February 5th, 2010

 

"I have thought it my duty to exhibit things as they are, not as they ought to be."
Alexander Hamilton, 1755-1804

 

 

Thursday, February 4th, 2010                       The Thirty-Sixth Anniversary of the Kidnapping of Patty Hearst

 

 

 

Wednesday, February 3rd, 2010

 

Last night I finished watching Passion Fish. Released in December of 1992, I confess I'd never even heard of it until my astronomer buddy, Randy, lent me the DVD. It's a beautiful cinematic work, following the life of a 40's-something daytime soap star, 'May-Alice', in the aftermath of a paralyzing spinal injury (which leaves her paraplegic...'numb from the waist down'). She is bitter...depressed though not quite suicidal and blessed with enough insurance so that money is not among her many concerns. She returns (from New York City) to her childhood home near Lafayette, Louisiana, which must be fitted with ramps and other accessories for her handicap. She drinks heavily and abuses several nurses/attendants (who quit). Then along comes 'Chantelle', an African-American woman in her late 20's...fresh out out of Chicago. Chantelle is hard-bitten, shares little about herself...but needs the job and, so, puts up with what her self-pitying patient delivers.
Written and directed by John Sayles (born on the same day as my baby sister), this film unfolds with masterful patience. It never attempts to 'punch above its weight'. By that, I mean that it never tries too hard...it is never sententious. I love that no character is a stereotype. The Cajun and African-American cultures are respectfully represented and there is bountiful footage of the Louisiana Bayou, replete with owls, eels, cranes and alligators. No violence, not much sex...but some frank scatology as May-Alice learns to accept her dependence upon an attendant for personal hygiene.
A wonderful movie: brilliantly written, filmed, directed and acted!   

 

 

Tuesday, February 2nd, 2010                             Groundhog Day!

 

 

 

 

 

Monday, February 1st, 2010 

 

People will always follow a good example; be the one to set a good example, then it won't be long before others follow. How lovely that everyone, great and small, can make their contribution toward introducing justice straightaway. You can always, always give something, even if it is only kindness! Think of all the beauty that's still left in and around you...and be happy. 

It's difficult in times like these: ideals, dreams and cherished hopes rise within us, only to be crushed by grim reality. It's a wonder I haven't abandoned all my ideals, they seem so absurd and impractical. Yet I cling to them because I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart.


Anne Frank, 1929-1945

 

 

Sunday, January 31st, 2010

 

The Launch of The iDud!

 

 

Saturday, January 30th. 2010

 

When my kids went off to college (and work), they left behind stacks of books, some of which I have endeavored to read. A few years ago, for example, I somehow lasted through all 900 pages of Dickens' Bleak House. It took me a few months, reading perhaps ten pages per day. Dickens was often paid by the word. His novels were serialized and, so, it was in his interest to make them long and convoluted. But Dickens, however tedious (at times), is never not masterful.
A few weeks ago...what did I spy on a shelf here but A Farewell To Arms, Ernest Hemingway's career-cinching novel from 1929. It was made into a 'talkie' in 1932. The title is august and I assumed that the writing would meet that measure. But...it is awful! The work draws on Hemingway's experience as an ambulance driver in World War I. The plod follows its protagonist, Frederic, an American paramedic (inexplicably) employed by the Italian Army. He falls in with Catherine, a bimbo nurse. On his first expedition, and before he gets to move even one body on a stretcher, he himself is wounded in a mortar attack while scarfing a Big Mac in his barracks. There ensues his long, boring convalescence, then his ill-fated attempt to rejoin the raging battles. After his ambulance gets stuck in mud and two of his subordinates bail (one of whom he shoots), he says, 'screw it' and deserts [a farewell to arms]. Somehow, he avoids summary execution (at the hands of the Italian Military Police) and makes his way back to Catherine. They bill and coo, but mostly they copulate and soon she is with child. On the verge of arrest (again, for desertion), he and Blondie escape to Switzerland where their lives are eye-crossingly dull.
The most generous explanation I can hatch for why this book is considered a 'classic'...is that times have changed. No expletives are printed and there is nothing sexually explicit to be found. There is also nothing compelling about Hemingway's lazy and unfocussed writing. His dreary, repetitive uses of the adjectives 'fine', 'grand', 'splendid' and 'wonderful' are infuriating. Several times I wanted to throw this tome at my cat...yet I 'soldiered' on. Frederic drinks (vermouth, beer, vodka, whiskey or (white) wine) from dawn to dusk. In fact, midway through this literary disaster, he is laid up with 'jaundice'. Yet his alcoholism never abates...only one aspect of a miserable work that leads nowhere.

 

 

Friday, January 29th, 2010

 

"All you have to do is say something nobody understands and they'll do practically anything you want them to."
J.D. Salinger, 1919-2010 

 

 

Thursday, January 28th, 2010                          The 24th anniversary of the Challenger Disaster

 

 

 

There is no flag large enough to cover the shame of killing innocent people for a purpose which is unattainable.

Howard Zinn, 1922-2010  

 

 

 

 


 

Wednesday, January 27th, 2010

 

 

 

Tuesday, January 26th, 2010

 

 

At last, the truth can be told! In a book released this morning, and written by Monsignor Slawomir Oder, the main promoter for John Paul's canonization (Santo Subito!), all the rumors about the late Pontiff's predilection for Bondage and Discipline have been put to rest. It has now been confirmed, by people who should know, that JP2 was, indeed, a very sick man!

 

 

The Monsignor writes, "As some members of his close entourage in Poland and in the Vatican were able to hear with their own ears, John Paul flagellated himself. In his armoire, amid all the vestments and hanging on a hanger, was a belt which he used as a whip and which he always brought to Castel Gandolfo." But Slawomir calls this aberrant behavior "an instrument of Christian perfection".

 

 


 

Monday, January 25th, 2010

 

Funerals are lavish in Taiwan, often involving weeks of ceremonies and elaborate processions with brass bands, dancing girls and hired mourners, who are paid handsomely to weep their hearts out for someone else's deceased relative. Embalming can include massaging the body with perfumed oils or a new hair style — anything from conservative to punk.
Associated Press

 


 

"The missives could be basic information, such as e-mail passwords sent to a girlfriend or banking data to relatives -- or more emotionally explosive notes that tell a spouse or friend what couldn't be said during life."
Michael S. Rosenwald
, writing for the Washington Post about a site called Deathswitch: "Imagine that you die with computer passwords in your head, leaving coworkers without access to critical files. Imagine your loved ones cannot find your bank accounts, or that you die with a secret that you longed to reveal during your lifetime." For only about twenty bucks a year, Deathswitch is one among many new ventures offering to eliminate the worries associated with your no longer being able to 'log on'. From time to time, you'll be sent an email with gentle inquiries as to the status of your health like, 'Are you dead yet?' In the event that you don't reply, Deathswitch takes that as a 'yes!' and sets 'the wheels' in motion. I mean, hey! We all worry plenty during this life. Wouldn't it be great to be carefree in the next?

 

Sunday, January 24th, 2010

 

The denizens of the valley of staff were astonished by the narcissism that had infused their candidate. But for a long time, they continued slaving in the service of the illusion at the core of Edwards’s political appeal: that he remained the same humble, aw-shucks son of a mill worker he’d always been. The cognitive dissonance was enormous, sure, but they were used to that. Because for years they’d been living with an even bigger lie—the lie of Saint Elizabeth.
No one in the Edwardses’ political circle felt anything less than complete sympathy for Elizabeth’s plight. And yet the romance between her and the electorate struck them as ironic nonetheless—because their own relationships with her were so unpleasant that they felt like battered spouses. The nearly universal assessment among them was that there was no one on the national stage for whom the disparity between public image and private reality was vaster or more disturbing.

F
rom Game Change, by John Heilemann and Mark Halperin. An excerpt appears in New York Magazine


 

Saturday, January 23rd, 2010

 

When a student asked Socrates (470-399 BC) if a young man should marry...or not, the old teacher flippantly replied, "Son...whichever you do, you'll regret it!"

 

More than two thousand years later, in 1838, Charles Darwin (at age twenty nine...and a couple of years off his voyage on 'The Beagle') asked himself  the same question and attempted to answer it for himself...with logic and reason. He made two lists, one entitled 'Marry' and the other, 'Not Marry'.

 

Under 'Not Marry', he wrote:

 

freedom to go where one likes, choice of society and little of it.
conversation of clever men at clubs, not forced to visit relatives and to bend in every trifle
to have the expense and anxiety of children
perhaps quarreling, loss of time how should I go about my business if I am obliged to go every day walking with my wife.
I never should know French or see the Continent or go to America or go up in a balloon

cannot read in the evenings — fatness & idleness — anxiety & responsibility — less money for books &c — if many children forced to gain one's bread. — (But then it is very bad for ones health to work too much)
Perhaps my wife won't like London; then the sentence is banishment & degradation into indolent, idle fool —

 

Then, under 'Marry', he wrote:

 

children...if it please God
constant companion and friend in old age, better than a dog anyhow
who will feel interested in one
my God, it is intolerable to spend one's whole life like a neuter bee working, working and nothing after all.
no no, won't do.

Imagine living all one's days, solitarily in smoky dirty London house
only picture to yourself a nice soft wife
with a good fire and books
music perhaps
marry, marry marry QED.

 

The very next year, Charles Darwin married his first cousin, Emma Wedgwood. [Charles and Emma had the same grandparents.]


Friday, January 22nd, 2010          Lyndon Johnson died thirty-seven years ago today.

 

Not all that long ago, one could casually say 'sit down and relax'. No more! An article published in the British Journal of Sports Medicine informs us that the amount of time we spend sitting is a reliable predictor of our being afflicted with Type-2 Diabetes...and every sort of cardiovascular illness.

 

Also...did you know that drugs prescribed to treat Parkinson's disease often turn their users into compulsive gamblers and/or drive them to other forms of addictive behavior? Weird, huh?

 

Actually...'often' is too strong a term here. The incidence for gambling is only about 1 in 2000...but statistically significant (and highly dependent upon dosage). This unintended effect is ascribed to the higher levels of dopamine that are found in patients to whom these drugs are given.
It's interesting to ponder the degree to which we are 'victims' of our physiological make-ups. 'Rats in a maze'!

 

 


 

Thursday, January 21st, 2010

 

 

 

Wednesday, January 20th, 2010

 

California (the most populous state) has about 37 million residents. Wyoming (the least populous) has about 550 thousand. But each state has two Senators. So that means that each Senator from California represents about 18 and a half million people and each Senator from Wyoming represents about 275 thousand. This is a ratio of about 65 Californians to 1 Wyoming-er. This also means that a resident of Wyoming has, in effect, 65 times the representation in the United States Senate as does one Californian. 

 

For our House of Representatives, the situation is not nearly so unbalanced. The most populous Congressional District is the State of Montana, with about 975 thousand residents. The least populous District is the State of Wyoming (with its mere 550 thousand). These figures are based on 2009 estimates.  So, roughly, a resident of Wyoming has twice the Congressional representation as does a resident of Montana. California has 53 Congressional Districts. Alaska, Delaware, Montana, North Dakota, South Dakota, Vermont and Wyoming have only one.

 

 

Tuesday, January 19th, 2010

 

 

 

 

Monday, January 18th, 2010

 

"There are certain technical words within every academic discipline that soon become stereotypes and clichés. Modern psychology has a word that is probably used more than any other word in modern psychology. It is the word 'maladjusted'. This word is the ringing cry to modern child psychology. Certainly, we all want to avoid the maladjusted life. We all want the well-adjusted life in order to avoid neurotic, schizophrenic personalities.
But I say to you, there are certain things in our nation and in the world to which I am proud to be maladjusted and to which I hope all men will be maladjusted. I say very honestly that I never intend to become adjusted to segregation and discrimination. I never intend to become adjusted to religious bigotry. I never intend to adjust myself to economic conditions that will take necessities from the many to give luxuries to the few."
Martin Luther King, December 18th, 1963

 

 

Sunday, January 17th, 2010

 

Aldous Huxley died on the most infamous day in the last half century: November 22, 1963. For that reason, rather little media attention was given to his passing. Months went went by (as people recovered from the shock of John Kennedy's murder) before most people heard that the author of Brave New World...was gone!
A similar posthumous fate awaited Joe Rollino, 'the world's strongest man' (though only 5'5" tall and weighing but 155 pounds). Rollino did not smoke, drink, eat  meat and was celibate throughout most of his life. This man's remarkable story came to a (quite literally) pedestrian end on the morning of the day before the biggest humanitarian catastrophe to strike North America in a half millennium (since the European invasion of the 1500's). Last Monday morning Joe Rollino was crossing a street in Brooklyn (he walked at least three miles every day) when he was hit by a minivan...two months shy of his 105th birthday.

 

Saturday, January 16th, 2010

 

 

Friday, January 15th, 2010

 

 

 

Thursday, January 14th, 2010

 

"This will play right into Obama's hands. He's humanitarian, compassionate. They'll use this to burnish their, shall we say, 'credibility' with the black community -- in the both light-skinned and dark-skinned black community in this country. It's made-to-order for them. That's why he couldn't wait to get out there, could not wait to get out there. Now, I want you to remember, it took him three days to respond to the Christmas Day Fruit of Kaboom Bomber, three days. And when he came out after those three days, he was clearly irritated that he had to do it. He didn't want to do it. He comes out here in less than 24 hours to speak about Haiti."
Rush Limbaugh, speaking yesterday on his radio show. [Dunno about you...but I can't even tell what his point is!]

 

Wednesday, January 13th, 2010

 

"And you know, something happened a long time ago in Haiti, and people might not want to talk about it. They were under the heel of the French, uh, you know Napoleon the 3rd and whatever, and they got together and swore a pact to the Devil. They said, 'We will serve you if you'll get us free from the French.' True story. And so the Devil said, 'Okay, it's a deal.’ And, uh, they kicked the French out, you know...the Haitians revolted and got themselves free. But ever since they have been cursed by, by one thing after another, desperately poor. That island of Hispaniola is one island. It’s cut down the middle. On the one side is Haiti on the other side is the Dominican Republic. Dominican Republic is, is prosperous, healthy, full of resorts, etcetera. Haiti is in desperate poverty. Same island. They need to have and we need to pray for them a great turning to God and out of this tragedy I’m optimistic something good may come."
Pat Robertson, speaking today on The 700 Club

 

 

Tuesday, January 12th, 2010

 

 

Newman, of Houston, Texas, courtesy of Lin

 

Monday, January 11th, 2010

 

 

 

 

 

Sunday, January 10th, 2010                     Happy Birthday, Marilyn

 

 

The photograph at left (used by permission) was taken by my buddy Randy in 1997, using his own backyard telescope in Benicia, California. It is a snap of the Hale-Bopp comet (named after the two astronomers who discovered it), which was visible to the naked eye for about eighteen months...a record in modern times. Fascinating to ponder: it has been calculated that this object last visited our 'neighborhood' in the year 2215 BC, although no written account of it has been found. Assuming a period of roughly 4,200 years, it will next come our way in about the year 4,385...although a lot could happen between then and now to throw off this reckoning.  Best estimates of the comet's speed yield ~27 miles per second (or 97,200 miles per hour)!

Click on the thumbnails below to see a moon shot, a beautiful view of the night sky (featuring nebulae) and the telescope itself...in its 'house'...complete with a sliding roof to protect it from the elements. Cool!

 

 

 


 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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