Friday, July 21, 2017

Witchy Women, Tenure Battles

Longtime readers will know that I am a big fan of Fritz Leiber, a criminally unsung author whose influence is as pervasive as it is unacknowledged. Such stories as 1941's The Smoke Ghost and 1949's The Girl with the Hungry Eyes are foundational documents in the 'dark urban fantasy' genre which is so popular these days.

One of the lacunae in my Leiber reading was the 1943 novel Conjure Wife, a tale of witchcraft set in a small university. The protagonist of the novel is John Saylor, a sociologist who has recently completed a survey of folk-magic practices with the assistance of his wife Tansy, culminating in an upcoming monograph, The Social Background of the Modern Voodoo Cult. Saylor and his wife are nonconformists stuck in a conservative institution, yet are thriving despite not being quite as staid as the administration would wish them to be.

One day, on a whim which he acknowledges as being childish and perhaps illicit, Saylor decides to go through his wife's dressing room and discovers that she has drawers full of the trappings of witchcraft- graveyard dirt, hair-and-nail clippings, horseshoe nails, and flannel mojo hands. A social scientist, he is appalled by this evidence of superstition on the part of his wife. On her return home, he confronts her with his discovery and makes her promise not to engage in these practices, and combs through the house finding flannel mojo bags and other talismans everywhere.

After he destroys the items, bad things start to happen- he is accused of sexual harassment by a student-employee, he starts lecturing about controversial topics, he puts his path to a department chairmanship in jeopardy. Being a rational person, which is never a plus in a dark fantasy, he chalks these things up to coincidence. The reader, of course, susses out what's going on pretty quickly.

The threats that accumulate against Saylor culminate in a supernatural attack on his house by an architectural grotesque that adorns one of the campus buildings, and hints of a fatal curse placed on him by an unknown antagonist. Tansy, unknown to her husband, takes the curse upon herself in order to save him, and receives a compulsion to flee the university. In one particularly creepy scene, John tracks down Tansy and, finally realizing that his rational worldview is not up to the task of saving his wife, decides to use supernatural means to save her... too late. Having largely failed to save his wife from a soul-stealing enchantment, he has to find a means to return her trapped soul to her and discover the source of the supernatural attacks on them.

The weird thing about this novel is that it portrays every woman on the planet as being a witch. Tansy, the other university wives, a young hotel maid... all of them use magic to one extent or other. The rudiments of the practice are handed down mother-to-daughter (uh, no explanation for how orphans learn it), but each individual woman continues to the extent of her abilities, using trial-and-error to achieve more mastery of the craft.

The novel then shifts into a spiritual battle between Saylor, who uses his analytical skills to approach the supernatural arts, and the witches who have tormented him and his wife. His struggle is reminiscent of a video game, in which he has to face a succession of increasingly powerful 'level bosses', until he finally finds the authoress of the couple's misfortunes.

The book was a fun read, if dated. There is the typical mid-century sexism, of the 'women being conscious of the moon-pulls and earth-tides' variety, and African-American conjure-men working their mojo, but it's not as toxic as a lot of other mid-century pulp fiction. The book also had me looking up the folk-practices that it describes, and I found a great Lightnin' Hopkins song about a mojo hand as a result:





One mark of my enjoyment of a book, movie, or television series is the series of internet searches that the work inspires... I love works which set off a cascade of queries.

Thursday, July 20, 2017

A Continual Source of Disappointment

The big political story today is John McCain's brain cancer diagnosis. I wish that Senator McCain successfully fights the glioblastoma with which he is inflicted... I've had a conflicted view of McCain for many years- the media has long portrayed him as a 'country before party' guy, but my observations have put the lie to this conventional wisdom.

My biggest beef with McCain, one which I take personally, is his flip-flop on immigration reform. In 2006, I attended a pro-immigration reform rally at St Barnabas Church on the Bronx/Yonkers border which featured McCain as a speaker. Back then, he was an advocate of immigration reform, having co-sponsored a bill on the subject with Teddy Kennedy.

I also had a beef with McCain about his flip-flop on the release of POW Bowe Bergdahl... as a POW himself, McCain should have unequivocally supported Bergdahl's rescue, but he decided to use it to score political points.

I just don't see McCain as the principled 'Maverick' that he's played in the media's imagination- even in this current political climate, he's voted with the man who denigrated his military service almost ninety-percent of the time. Now that he's facing a long battle against a pernicious cancer, he's probably going to vote to prevent the middle-class, working-class, and indigent people of the U.S. from receiving affordable diagnostic care like he did. An elderly man, with numerous pre-existing conditions, McCain would never receive affordable coverage from any of the private insurance carriers that we peons are forced to deal with.

I wish Senator McCain a recovery from glioblastoma, but I would wish that for anyone. Basically, I wish that every single American citizen could receive the 'gold standard', taxpayer funded healthcare that McCain will be receiving. Tragically, Senator McCain doesn't seem to agree with me. Once again, McCain has proved to be a source of disappointment. I hope he recovers, but I won't be singing Fields of Athenry to him anytime soon.


Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Secret Science Club Post-Lecture Recap: An Earthshaking Topic

Last night, I headed down to the beautiful Bell House, in the Gowanus section of Brooklyn, for this month's Secret Science Club lecture by Yale University geologist and geophysicist Dr Maureen Long. Fr Long, an observational seismologist, described her job as dreaming up questions that nobody has the answers to and traveling around the world (a perk) to seek the answers.

Dr Long began her lecture by noting humanity's fascination with the world beneath our feet, a fascination which has cropped up in popular culture for a long time. She displayed a simple, elegant image of the Earth's layers as characterized by current geology. Beneath the cool crust of the Earth, there is a rocky mantle which surrounds a liquid outer core primarily composed of iron (about 80%) and nickel (about 20%) surrounding a solid iron-nickel inner core. The interior of the Earth is characterized by dynamic processes.

Approximately 4.6 billion years ago, the Earth accreted from a planetary disc- collisions between accreting dust particles created kinetic energy which was stored as heat, the present day source of much of the interior's heat. The Earth has been cooling slowly to the temperature of the surrounding space, which will eventually result in a slow heat death billions of years from now. The Earth radiates 46 terawatts of heat- it is thought that approximately one half of this heat is residual primordial heat, and one half results from radioactive decay. Heat loss fuels plate tectonics and localized disasters such as earthquakes. While the Earth radiates 46 terawatts of heat, it receives 170,000 terawatts of heat from the sun, which can cause atmospheric disasters.

Dr Long indicated that the heat lost by the Earth is lost by convection- although the mantle is solid, there is a slow convection as rocks near the surface cool, become denser, and sink and rocks near the core heat up, become less dense, and rise. The process is slow, rocks move one to ten centimeters a year... to help the audience visualize the process, Dr Long likened it to the speed at which one's fingernails grow. Dr Long compared the process to the motion of the blobs in a lava lamp and joked that, as a geophysicist 'of course' she has a lava lamp. Plate tectonics is a surface expression of the convection in the mantle. Subduction zones are the regions in which the plates of the Earth collide and one plate slides under another plate. Oceanic spreading zones are regions in which plates are moving away from each other. Plate tectonics in boundary zones is the cause of earthquakes and vulcanism. Dr Long stressed the need to understand the physical properties of the Earth to mitigate disasters.

Dr Long then shifted the topic to methodology- how do we study the Earth's interior? Much of what we know about the interior is the result of studying seismology. Earthquakes are recorded at monitoring stations all over the planet- the 'wiggles' of the seismographs give researchers insights into the structure of the Earth. There are different sorts of seismic waves, such as body waves which move through the interior and surface waves. Body waves are further divided into primary P-waves (or compressional waves) and S-waves (shear waves). Seismic waves continually pass through the mantle of the Earth and the data can be compiled to create seismic tomography, in a process analogous to medical tomography. Images can be constructed from seismic waves. Dr Long showed us a gorgeous tomographic image of the mantle underneath the United States:




The blue regions are characterized by fast seismic waves traveling through older, colder, stiffer rock, the red regions are characterized by slow seismic waves moving through hotter rock with more vigorous seismic activity.

There are seismic stations all around the globe- a lot of earthquakes occur, providing a lot of data. While earthquakes are, as Dr Long put it, super-common, most of them occur in remote places, deep in the earth. A Global Seismographic Network with about two-hundred monitoring stations uploads data in real time. Earthquake occurrence is not evenly distributed, and oceanic monitors are difficult and expensive to place. With a global network, a seismic tomography of the deep earth is being compiled. One recent discovery is that subducting plates can form slabs which sink towards the core. Dr Long noted that many of the features observed in the deep Earth look like the predicated models, but that there are surprises- not all subduction slabs act alike, some slabs are slowly sinking all the way to the core-mantle boundary. Beneath Japan, one subduction slab sinks to a depth of 900 kilometers then stops sinking. Dr Long posed the question, why do some slabs sink to the mid-mantle level while others sink to the core-mantle boundary? All of these slabs are made of the same stuff.

There are also rising rock 'plumes'- solid rock rises up through the mantle. Dr Long cited the work of UC Berkeley geologists Scott French and Barbara Romanowicz who found slow velocity hot rock plumes under such volcanic hotspots as Hawaii and Iceland. Some of these plumes are one-thousand kilometers in width. There are also 'superplumes', more properly known as large low-shear-velocity provinces located at the base of the mantle and having low shear-wave velocities. There is a large low-shear-velocity province underneath the Pacific Ocean, and another under Africa. Dr Long characterized these LLSVP's as 'superweird'. Nobody knows what they are- they are at the base of the mantle, and they are hot, but they don't seem to be rising. Dr Long wondered if these structures had a different minerology/chemistry from other mantle sections and if they were formed shortly after the birth of the planet. LLSVP's remain a mystery. She recommended a TED talk by Dr Ed Garnero of Arizona State University on the subject:





Dr Long then brought up the topic of Earthscope, the largest earth science project funded by the National Science Foundation. Earthscope was designed to make transformative discoveries about the structure of the North American continent, earthquake physics, and the Deep Earth. The data derived from the project is free and open. The USArray placed approximately twenty-five hundred seismic systems throughout North America- before Earthscope, there were about one-hundred seismometers in the US. Dr Long contrasted the pre-Earthscope era to the present day using an analogy- it's like studying astronomy with a pair of binoculars versus studying astronomy with the Hubble Space Telescope. I seemed to detect a bit of 'football spiking' when Dr Long told us that PopSci, in 2011, named Earthscope the most awe-inspiring project of the year, edging out the LHC.

The Earthscope observatory nearest to the beautiful Bell House is N61A in Milburn, New Jersey. The USArray is a flexible array- detectors can be earmarked for specific seismic experiments. Dr Long's specific experiment is the poetically named MAGIC: Mid-Atlantic Geophysical Integrative Collaboration. The goal of the MAGIC project is to determine the seismic structure of the eastern United States, and to reconstruct the plate tectonics processes which formed the region. The geology of the eastern United States is largely covered by vegetation and I-95. It's a complicated geology- about 350 million years ago, the Appalachian Mountains were young, tall mountains like the Himalayas. At about 200 million years ago, the supercontinent of Pangea was splitting up, with present-day Africa separating from present-day North America- meaning that the current Eastern Seaboard would have looked much like Africa's Rift Valley. There are dramatic remnants of the Triassic Rift in the Hudson Palisades, part of the Newark Basin and New Haven's East Rock (visible from Dr Long's office), part of the Hartford Basin- both the Palisades and East Rock are lava formations, dramatic evidence of ancient tectonic processes.

Dr Long's MAGIC project is set up to determine the effects of tectonic processes on the deep structure of the crust and mantle underlying eastern North America- what lies beneath? Eastern North America has not been a plate boundary for 200 million years, but the seismic tomography indicates a couple of unusual features- red 'blobs' underneath New England and Central Appalachia, indicating slow velocity seismic waves. Dr Long chose to study the Central Appalachian 'blob'- what does the crust/mantle region look like in Appalachia? Central Virginia is known to experience earthquakes. Dr Long characterized the geology of Appalachia as 'superbizarre'- there are 500 million year-old rocks in the region, which should not be found in a passive-margin region with no plume or hotspot. Put succinctly, the structure is anomalous. MAGIC deployed 28 seismometers in Appalachia between 2013 and 2016. Dr Long announced her 'hot off the presses' findings... in the Central Appalachian region, the lithosphere, thought to be 100 kilometers thick, turned out to be a mere 70 kilometers in thickness, way thinner than was expected. At some time, perhaps 50 million years ago, some part of the lithosphere dropped off into the mantle. The dropped chunks of lithosphere may explain the earthquakes in this region. This unexpected finding raised other questions- is this region of thinness unique to the region, or is it a characteristic of old mountain ranges? What's special about Appalachia?

Dr Long ended her lecture with a plug for the Earthscope project and told us to stay tuned for new amazing discoveries, transformative discoveries, to come. Deep Earth research is important to understanding life, and to understanding hazards.

In the Q&A session following the lecture, some bastard in the audience asked Dr Long about the feasibility of earthquake prediction (impossible by today's standards). She noted that earthquakes cannot be predicted, but that broad forecasts can be made about which regions are earthquake-prone. While nobody can indicate if an earthquake is imminent, knowledge of risk factors can lead to better building codes in quake-prone areas. She indicated that there's not a lot of progress, and we may never get there, but increased knowledge can lead to better policy.

Another attendee asked if convection is random or if the LLSVP's play a role in the process- Dr Long indicated that nobody knows what factors control convection patterns. A question about the Chicxulub impact's effect on the planet had Dr Long stating that, while the impact was a mass extinction level event in the biosphere, it had little effect on Earth's deep structure... that being said, extinction events are often associated with volcanic flood basalts. Another question about our knowledge of extraterrestrial seismic studies had Dr Long talking about seismometers on the Moon and the Insight mission to place seismometers on Mars. Another question regarded the anomalous rise of upstate New York's Adirondack Mountains which is occurring 'faster than it should be'. The last question regarding the heat death of the Earth, and Dr Long noted that there are differing calculations depending on how much one attribute's Earth's heat to primordial kinetic energy or to radioactive decay- at any rate, we have tens of billions of years until it happens, and as Dr Long wisely put it- 'we have bigger problems'.

After the formal Q&A, Dr Long hung out at the beautiful Bell House for an informal chat session. One topic which came up was the discovery of a fault line not too far from the Indian Point nuclear power plant. Dr Long also broke the news to me that Dr Leo J. Hickey, gentleman and Renaissance man, had passed away four years ago.

Dr Long's lecture hit what I call the 'Secret Science sweet spot'- it was an entertaining and informative blend of hard science fact, methodology, and travelogue. In other words, the good doctor hit it out of the park. Kudos to Dr Long, Dorian and Margaret, and the staff of the beautiful Bell House. If you want a taste of that Secret Science effect, here's a video of the good doctor lecturing on natural disasters:





Crack open a beer and soak in that SCIENCE!

Monday, July 17, 2017

I Have a Feeling He'll Be Back

Another Titan has fallen- George Romero, the father of the modern zombie/ghoul/living dead horror genre, has died, but I suspect he'll be back. Romero's films, made on tight budgets with casts of unknowns, are notable for their political content as well as for their gore. The original Night of the Living Dead was notable for featuring an African-American protagonist, and while the political message is in the background, the practically subliminal racial tension is a factor in the dynamics of the group almost as much as the tension between the living and the not-exactly-dead. The ending of the movie is one of the great shocking twists of cinema history.

Dawn of the Dead, in my estimation Romero's grand opus, is a savage satire of consumer culture, as rival groups of survivors (particularly cops and outlaw bikers) ensconce themselves in a mall to withstand a siege by ghouls. The breathers and the shamblers are all obsessed with consumption- the undead at least realize that humanity is the product.

The Tor article I linked to is an essential read for Romero fans- the sheer ubiquity of the tropes the Romero started served to drown out the oeuvre of the man himself, leaving little room for an auteur who preferred to work with modest budgets and practical effects.

One thing that I have to note about Romero is that he had a sense of humor, albeit a grim one. One particular scene comes to mind, in which the female protagonist's brother tries to scare her:





My favorite line in any of Romero's movies is the deadpan-snark description of the undead uttered by the character of the police chief who is leading the local response to the zombie uprising:





Night of the Living Dead, surprisingly, is in the public domain. It's a bit gruesome, but not over the top like some modern splatter films. Even if you're not a horror movie fan, it is an interesting watch, because of its genre-defining status. Just keep the lights on, because George might be coming to get you.

Saturday, July 15, 2017

Can't Save Them All

When I arrived on the job today, one of my co-workers, a sensitive artistic woman, greeted me with a dilemma... she had found a distrait bird in front of our main building. Acting on the instinct of providing a 'nest' for an injured bird, she had placed it in a cardboard box lined with paper towels:




The bird, a white-breasted nuthatch (Sitta carolinensis) looked to be in rough shape. It had a tendency to shiver and to occasionally flop over. My friend had called a couple of wildlife rehabilitators to ask for assistance, but had to leave messages with them because they were unavailable. I took the box with the bird from her (I am fond of nuthatches, they are comical little birds which often climb head downward along one of our wooden outbuildings, looking for tasty bugs) and tried to figure out how best to deal with the little thing. I figured I'd see if I could get it to drink from a drip-feeder improvised from a wet paper towel (having no eyedropper in my office) and eat a bit of cat-kibble (not having sunflower seeds or peanuts available). Sadly, the bird expired while I was trying to figure out how to provide sustenance for it.

About an hour after she had left, my co-worker returned to see how the bird was doing- the whole situation weighed on her so much that she had to return to see how the bird was doing. I broke the bad news to her, and then we had a talk about how birds which have ended up on the ground are often sick to begin with. I told her that she had done everything correctly to the best of her knowledge, and how I had tried to get some water and food into the bird. She had heard back from one of the rehabilitation experts, who pretty much told her the same thing I did, even down to the whole 'try to feed it sunflower seeds or cat food' bit. This is a prime season for animal injuries, so all of the local wildlife rehabilitation experts have their hands full. My friend is an idealistic woman, but she's also a realist, so she took the news of the bird's death in stride... she did a yeoperson's job, but even a yeoperson can't save them all.

Friday, July 14, 2017

Liberté Égalité Covfefé

Today being Bastille Day, I figured that I'd post about President Trompe le Monde's Mission a Paris. Despite an awkward opening 'line' from Trompe (quel dommage dumbass), President Macron responded with genuine statesmanship and hit the PotUS with a full-blown Parisian charm offensive (bonus points to the French military band for playing a 'Daft Punk' medley during the Bastille Day parade) and making him feel at home in the rococo, by which I mean tacky, Élysée Palace.

I have to grudgingly express admiration for President Macron's discretion and diplomacy for not trolling Trompe with a succession of tumbrels during the Bastille Day parade, but the man took the high road. The 'conventional wisdom' is that Trompe is typically influenced by the last person with whom he's spoken, so Macron's display of amitié toward Trompe might move him to a more moderate stance towards America's allies... dining in the Eiffel Tower just might make him conflate the Paris Agreement with La Ville-Lumière, and reconsider his position.

I'm not holding my breath, though, Trompe's lune de miel is over, and now it's back to the harsh reality of the Russian hacking scandal and low approval ratings. As the lovely Veronique Vincent sang, prends l’avion pour un autre là-bas...





But someday you have to fly home to face the music... at any rate, this is a story to follow.

Thursday, July 13, 2017

When Someone You Can't Stand Covers One of Your Pet Topics

I pretty much view the whole 'Freakonomics' phenomenon with contempt, especially given the authors' blase approach to climate change, with the belief that geoengineering can save the day, is boneheaded, though not the most boneheaded approach. Generally speaking, I can't stand these guys, but while changing radio stations on my way to work last Saturday, I actually stopped and listened to their radio show, because they were covering a topic which has long been a mini-obsession of mine... the American obsession with lawns.

My take on lawns is that they are only appropriate for athletic fields of various sorts- they are wasteful monocultures, costly in terms of money spent and biodiversity lost. To me, the best symbol of the idiocy of the lawn is the suburbanites' war on the dandelion, a plant which is useful in every part, in order to grow turf grass, which is only useful to ruminants. To use potable water in order to grow this useless, invasive turf grass is extremely wasteful.

Personally, I think that a combination of native wildflower and herb/vegetable gardens is the way to go... people should at least consider having a couple of milkweed plants in their yard. I would even advocate a 'million milkweed median' program for the national highway system in order to bolster the endangered monarch butterfly population.

I listened to the entire 'Freakonomics' show, and I note that their characterization of lawns as 'carbon sinks' is flawed because it doesn't take into consideration the carbon costs of lawn maintenance and the transportation infrastructure used to support the industry, and the fact that mown turf grass doesn't remove as much carbon dioxide from the atmosphere as most plants, especially trees. I still hold the 'Freakonmics' staff in contempt, but I am pleased that they at least covered this topic.

Wednesday, July 12, 2017

Dirty Dog for Director

I have serious misgivings about Donald Trump's nominee for director of the FBI. This guy was Chris Christie's 'Bridgegate' defense attorney... while I realize that a defense attorney has to represent a defendant no matter how scummy they are, I don't have to trust said defense attorney. By the way, the architect of the Bridgegate ratfuckery has avoided prison time, leaving a couple of flacks to take the heat and do the time.

Even more troubling, Wray was a member of Dubya's Department of Justice and redacted documents provide tantalizing clues suggesting that Wray was probably involved in implementing the use of torture in prosecuting the 'Global War on Terror'. Wray's role in the response to the reports of inmate abuse at Abu Ghraib Prison suggests that he is the sort of person who values subservience to a regime over adherence to the rule of law.

Given the fact that the current administration is packed with oligarchs who view their positions as opportunities to steal, Wray's involvement in the Bush torture regime and his defense of Christie's vendetta against Democratic politicians and the commuters they serve, I doubt that Wray really would resign before dropping an investigation into his bosses... he has a loyalty to the loathsome, not the law.

Monday, July 10, 2017

Bromerta

One of the big local stories that has been dominating the airwaves in the NYC Tri-State Area is the hazing death of a young New Jersey man while pledging a Penn State fraternity. Particularly appalling is the callous response of the fratholes who knew that there was something going terribly wrong with their supposed friend. They chose not to seek medical intervention, hoping that the problem would 'go away'.

All too often, young men witnessing bad behavior embrace a code of Silence reminiscent of the Macia's omertà- a bromerta, if you will, which enables much of the behaviors which characterize toxic masculinity. Rape culture, bullying, hazing- all are fostered by this complicity of silence. These behaviors tend to grow even worse in young adulthood, leading to such ills as the "blue wall of silence" which protects bad cops, and to unethical business practices.

In many universities, the Greek System is a pipeline into the Old Boy Network, and the fact that some fraternity brothers perpetuate a system of hazing and complicity should give everyone pause- if a house full of bros are willing to let a pledge die in order to "make a problem go away", what would they be capable of doing to complete strangers to further their business interests later on in life?

Sunday, July 9, 2017

How About Promoting an Arsonist to Fire Chief?

Ah... Sunday morning, the time of week when nothing goes on, a good morning to sleep in after a long, late night. Hey, let me check the t00bz while I hit the commode... WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!?!?


Putin & I discussed forming an impenetrable Cyber Security unit so that election hacking, & many other negative things, will be guarded..


I realize that the current occupant of the White House is a dumbass and a nutbar, but this is beyond the pale! If President Obama had so much as hinted that he wanted a joint cyber-security unit with even our closest allies, such as Canada or the UK, it would have caused a meltdown in Congress and the media. The very idea that Vulgarmort would even consider a joint cyber defense pact with the unfriendly (to the US and the EU) regime which hacked the US electoral system and, even more alarmingly, US nuclear power plants is enough to give a thinking person the creeping horrors.

This really should be the beginning of the end for dumb Donald, but the feckless GOPers are the types to criticize, then do nothing... for instance, Marco Rubio criticized Trump, but can't be relied on to stop the insanity- he's all hat tiny bottle no cattle water.

The really crazy thing is that Trump is still rambling on about this issue hours after his initial tweet:


The fact that President Putin and I discussed a Cyber Security unit doesn't mean I think it can happen. It can't-but a ceasefire can,& did!


This is not normal, and whether he's trolling or he's actual nuts makes no real difference. Either way, he is doing irreparable harm to our security apparatus. The real tragedy is that the GOP Congress can't be relied on to 25 45.

Saturday, July 8, 2017

The Island of Doctor Moreau Moron

From the fever-swamps of the right wing conspiracy theory industrial complex, we have the assertion by possible Trump 'advisor' Alex Jones that there are human-animal chimeras enslaved in labs throughout the country. For those of you have have the fortitude to watch the blithering idiot raving on, it's a bad bit of science-fiction.

Back on Planet Earth, there are immunocompromised mice which, due to their inhibited immune systems, won't reject grafts from other organisms, so they are used in tumor research or things which look to the uninformed like transgenic human-animal hybrids, such as those another Texas dumbass warned us about. The idea that the people in the white coats are creating gorilla-human or pig-human chimerae for the hell of it, or to engineer a breed of super-soldiers is ridiculous- funding for biological research is too damn low as it is... plus, there are plenty of humans on this planet that are exploited cheaply, why would 'the global elite' fritter away resources to produce expensive, inferior thralls?

The real kicker here is that Jones has ranted about 'life extension technology' that 'the elites' are withholding from him... if he thinks that his lifestyle-ravaged viscera can be replaced without techniques developed through studies like that involved in the creation of the Vacanti mouse, he's even stupider than I originally thought.

Thursday, July 6, 2017

If There's a Hereafter, He's Jamming with Delia

In today's news, there was an obituary for electronic music pioneer Pierre Henry, who was an instrumental (heh) figure in the development of Musique Concrète, in which recorded sounds (often 'found' sounds from nature or industry) were incorporated into the production of music 'from the bottom up'. The use of tape loops as raw materials allowed for all sorts of distortions and sound manipulations:





Henry's most 'accessible' track was Psyche Rock, a fun number which starts out in a 'Morricone-esque' fashion, then morphs into a fun garage-rock number punctuated with bells and flute trills until finally channeling a bit of Guantanamera:





It's hard to believe that the song was recorded back in 1967, it really has a timelessness about it... making it an appropriate inspiration/foundation for Christopher Tyng's Futurama theme:





I always love listening to these paleo-electronic tracks from the 1960s, and admire the musicians who had to splice together loops of tape and program unwieldy synthesizers to achieve their effects. If there is a hereafter, I have no doubt that Monsieur Henry is jamming with my beloved Delia Derbyshire.

EDIT: There seems to be some ambiguity over whether or not the long version I posted is a remix, so here's a more concise 1967 version of Psyche Rock:





The song is so fun, betcha listen to both versions back-to-back.

Wednesday, July 5, 2017

I Do Declare!

These days, I tend to wake up and, before I turn on the radio, wonder what sort of fresh hell is awaiting me in the news. This morning, it was hearing that an appalling number of Trump supporters were freaking out over NPR's tweeting of the Declaration of Independence, believing that the public radio network was fomenting revolution against their God-Emperor. I can hardly fathom how anyone so ignorant of the foundational documents of our nation can claim the mantle of patriotism.

My favorite quote from Al Franken is:


If you listen to a lot of conservatives, they'll tell you that the difference between them and us is that conservatives love America and liberals hate America. ... They don't get it. We love America just as much as they do. But in a different way. You see, they love America like a 4-year-old loves his mommy. Liberals love America like grown-ups. To a 4-year-old, everything Mommy does is wonderful and anyone who criticizes Mommy is bad. Grown-up love means actually understanding what you love, taking the good with the bad and helping your loved one grow. Love takes attention and work and is the best thing in the world. That's why we liberals want America to do the right thing. We know America is the hope of the world, and we love it and want it to do well.


Love should be rooted in understanding, and love of country should be rooted in learning the unvarnished history of America and, as Al Franken exhorted us to do, to improve the culture. The lofty ideals espoused in the Declaration of Independence We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness) were espoused by men who owned slaves, who denied women full participation in civic life. Our society has evolved to the extent that women and minorities are considered, in principle if not practice, full citizens... much to the dismay of some on the Right.

Perhaps the most cringeworthy response to NPR's Declaration tweetstorm was this guy's... as an added bonus, he blames feminists for his 'blacklisting':

Ex-writer for big news. Blackballed media journalist thanks to left wing/feminist job lynch mob.

I guess it's easier to blame a bunch of womyn for your failure than to admit that it's due to your dumbassitude.

Tuesday, July 4, 2017

As Is Typical on July 4th

One of my weekly rituals is to stop by a local supermarket to pick up 'provisions' for my office fridge for the week, typically a half-gallon of milk for the nightly coffee ration, and whatever catches my eye, by which I mean is on sale. I am on a first name basis with much of the staff of the place- I never use the self-serve checkout, firmly believing in the whole 'the job you save may be your own' approach to workplace automation.

Last week, I was chatting with two of my friends at the store, and asked them if they had the 4th of July off. They told me that, not only was the store open, but it would not be closing early for the holiday. At least they were getting overtime pay, which is some small consolation.

Ordinarily, I have Tuesdays off, Mondays and Tuesdays are the days when our sites are closed to the general public, though we do accommodate school groups on these days. This year, though, because of the holiday, we are open to the public... I will be working a four-hour shift to help the Manager on Duty at one of our sites close up. I don't have to start until late afternoon, so I have time to hang out with some old friends who are having a lunchtime cookout. The job's not a bad gig, because once I lock up, I have the glorious place all to myself, and can usually catch a bit of a couple of local fireworks displays from a private vantage point at the end of the shift. I'm 'essential personnel', and I am the top dog in the department, so I feel obliged to cover these odd shifts so none of my subordinates has to do so. It's not like I'm standing at a cash register, ticking down the minutes to midnight, when I can go home.

One of my all-time favorite songs, one that I've posted about before, is 4th of July by Dave Alvin, a song about a poor working stiff, "on the lost side of town, in a dark apartment", who comes home from work to find his partner in a funk... though I like to think that it has an optimistic ending. The definitive version is by X, here's their 1986 Farm Aid performance of the song, with Mr Alvin on guitar:





This one goes out to all of the working folks, mainly low-paid women and people of color, who have to work today. I sure hope that people show them the appreciation they deserve.

Monday, July 3, 2017

Target Audience

Last week, I posted about the latest NRA ad, which has been construed as inciting violence against liberals. In the past couple of days, I have come to the conclusion that, counterintuitively, the ad is meant to scare liberals into buying guns.

While the NRA has been spouting right-wing talking points for as long as I can remember, the organization is primarily a lobbyist group for the arms industry. The raison d'être of the NRA is to sell guns. The main technique employed by the NRA is to stoke fear (PDF), largely racialized fear. For the past eight years, the gun lobby has convinced its original right-wing target audience that the United States' first African-American president would confiscate guns, all to drive up sales. Anticipation of a Clinton presidency fueled a gun-buying frenzy last year. With a right-wing president occupying the White House, and the right-wing gun purchaser having a glut of firearms, gun sales, and firearms manufacturer stocks, have plummeted. Gun manufacturers have to expand the market for firearms if they want to stop this downward spiral.

This current ad, suggesting that conservatives arm themselves and fight back against violent 'leftists', protesters-at-large, and people who criticize the president, has been scaring the bejeebers out of liberals, some of whom now feel the need to arm themselves for protection against a reactionary backlash. A subset of people concerned with Trump's violent rhetoric and jingoistic policies, have gone and purchased shooting irons. This has been a market largely untapped by the rightist NRA, but I think that, in a bit of marketing 'jujitsu', they have made an extreme right-wing ad that is actually targeting a left-of-center audience.

Sunday, July 2, 2017

Mars Needs Women Sanity

Wow, there are a couple of 'cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs' stories regarding the Red Planet lately- the first is that the main purveyor of lunatic fringe right wing buffoonery has featured a guest who claims that there is a pedophile ring on Mars, claims the resulted in a response from NASA to the contrary. For the record, the purveyors of this lunacy received White House press credentials from Vulgarmort. I know I've posted the Dead Milkmen song Stuart on numerous occasions, but this 1988 release perfectly encapsulates the lunatic-right worldview:





It's appalling to see how 'normalized' this sort of idiocy has become... far from a small operation based from a P.O. Box in Pueblo, Colorado, this shit is now big business.

The other whacko story is the President stating that he wants to land a human on Mars within his first term, probably using a coal-powered spacecraft. This stated goal doesn't mesh with Trump's general attitude toward science and education.

If Trump does decide to land humans on Mars, I suggest that he starts by sending a corps of right-wing conspiracy theorists to investigate the Martian pedophile ring- these people did such a bang-up job at Comet Ping Pong.

The post-title riffs off of this piece of glorious Sci-Fi cheese, which starred the dear, departed Yvonne Craig:





The movie inspired a gloriously cheesy 1980s song of the same title by Peter Wolf:





The movie also inspired the Hoodoo Gurus' song Mars Needs Guitars, a personal Bastard favorite:





Anyway, I wouldn't mind seeing Trump sending an 'Ark B' to Mars... it's not like anybody needs a telephone sanitizer anymore.

Saturday, July 1, 2017

Ceding the Future

I am a nerdy guy- I am a firm believer that evidence-based, peer-reviewed science is the key to understanding the universe, to the extent that I made a decision to recap the monthly Secret Science Club lectures. I even took a vacation day to participate in the NYC March for Science. Needless to say, I was really bummed out to read that the Science Division of the White House Office of Science and Technology now has zero staffers. It's bad enough that the current PotUS is obsessed with revitalizing an obsolete, polluting technology and has a Secretary of Education who wants to dismantle our secular education system, but letting the office which should employ the makers of science policy just wither and die really hammers home the point that our current administration is ceding future technological dominance to foreign governments, whether China, the European Union, or New Zealand.

The president is an ignoramus and, like most ignoramuses, has an inflated view of his own cognitive abilities. The fact that he doesn't even seem to care that there is no-one guiding a coherent science policy is rather depressing to me, though at least he isn't putting fundamentalist loons in charge of science policy... yet.

Friday, June 30, 2017

Funniest Line I've Heard in a While

Before heading over to work, I stopped by a local eatery to grab a quick, light dinner. As I was dining, four young women entered the establishment, and I was able to catch the last line of the conversation they were engaged in on their walk from their car to the front door:

"What do you mean? I'm almost twenty-two in Rhode Island."

Well played, young miss... now what kind of idiot thinks women aren't funny?

Thursday, June 29, 2017

That Ain't a Clenched Fist, Lady

Ugh, I finally got a chance to watch the new NRA ad, courtesy of Tengrain... it's pinup for pinheads Dana Loesch whining about the 'fake news media', and 'lies' about Vulgarmort and his maladministration. The ad, which has been roundly condemned, shows a distorted view of the protests in which millions of Americans, including myself, have participated, and paints a dystopian view of dissent. It even makes the claim that Barack Obama is advocating a subversive position.

Of course, the ad is complete bullshit, in the Orwellian vein, and the 'lies' which Loesch decries are actually truths. Loesch claims that she wields the 'clenched fist of truth' to combat the 'violence of lies', but the only thing Loesch has is the clenched sphincter of rage.

Wednesday, June 28, 2017

My People Have No Use for Insincere 'Niceness'

I'm a New Yorker, and New Yorkers tell it like it is... we just don't have the time to be doormats for people who we think suck manatee balls. Therefore, it's no surprise the anti-LGBTQ politica Nikki Haley was booed in a New York City restaurant on Pride Day. Fuck, lady, if you want an insincere show of what passes for 'politeness', you came to the wrong town... you can't live in a bubble in this city, life is lived too publicly for that shit.

There may be hope for Haley, after all, she did condemn LGBTQ purges in Chechnya. Of course, she has no control over Chechnyan policies, and in the places and times in which she did have control over policies regarding LGBTQ people, she didn't exactly cover herself in glory.

At any rate, don't expect people in NYC to be doormats, especially if you are a hypocrite who thinks that 'political correctness' is a problem, but when when bigots are taken to the woodshed. We New Yorkers don't tolerate assholes, and we don't care who we upset when we call out assholes for censure... after all, in this place, "fuck, fuckin' fucker's fuckin' fucked" is a perfectly grammatical sentence.

Tuesday, June 27, 2017

Beavis Goes to Bitburg

This weekend saw dueling fascist snoozefests in DC- the emo-boy Nazis and the insufficiently Aryan fascist contingent that they hate. At any rate, less than a hundred fascists showed up at both rallies, proving that Saturday Right Fever isn't bringing all the boys to the yard... not even all of the milk-drinking 'Proud Boys'.

Despite the unpopularity of the Anime Nazi contingents, the cool kids all noticed that Eric Trump is now sporting the 'fashy haircut' popular with the cartoon frog set... Beavis Goes to Bitburg.

Besides making the joke in the post title, this post gives me an excuse to post one of the few Ramones songs that was overtly political:





Despite the fact that the Ramones often sang about transgressive topics and invoked Nazi imagery for shock value, Joey Ramone was a nice, liberal Jewish boy from Queens... for all of his Blitzkrieg Bopping, I'm sure he'd be appalled at the rise of openly neo-Nazi groups, and the media's refusal to condemn them.

Monday, June 26, 2017

Summer Crop, Bumper Crop

Having had a few days over 90F (32C), there is a bumper crop of purslane (Portulaca oleracea) onsite:




Longtime readers will know that purslane is one of my all-time favorite foodstuffs. Purslane has high levels of omega-3 fatty acids and has gained some cachet in the foodie community.

I picked a passel of purslane- this particular bunch will be dressed with tahini and yogurt (this will set off the purslane's tartness nicely) with a hint of garlic, to be served on slices of stale ciabatta bread fried in olive oil. Purslane is succulent, and while traditionally cooked in Mexican and Indian cuisines, I prefer to eat it raw because that crunchy, succulent texture is a large part of the plant's appeal to me.

Purslane's ability to thrive in the heat is due to its ability to 'switch on' the CAM photosynthetic process to conserve water. I made sure to pluck the stems off of the plants, leaving the roots (possibly to the chagrin of our horticultural staff, sorry guys!) in the ground. I'll be eating purslane for months, and will probably try pickling some, like Martha Washington did, for the cold, purslaneless months.

POSTSCRIPT:
Poking around the t00bz, I find that purslane is an ingredient in Rooh Afza, which is commonly consumed on Eid-al-Fitr on the Indian subcontinent. Happy Eid, folks.

Sunday, June 25, 2017

Happy Pride Day 2017

Today marked NYC's annual LGBTQ Pride Day parade- here's wishing a happy pride day to all of my readers. Significantly, this year's pride parade was televised for the first time, furthering the goal of LGBTQ visibility. One theme that has been covered in the local news is the importance of trans-acceptance, another is the importance, in the post Pulse nightclub massacre and Trump/Pence election, the need to resist attacks on LGBTQ people, both physical and legislative.

I learned long ago that people who belittle, demean, and assault LGBTQ people are bullies, plain and simple. As a teenager, I witnessed a friend's family disown her when she came out... they destroyed their family, favoring small-minded bigotry over love and loyalty. Two gay friends of mine in high school tried to kill themselves... thankfully, neither one of them succeeded. I value equality, and I value authenticity- nobody should have to live a lie, or to live in hiding. The same regressive, authoritarian forces that want to curtail LGBTQ rights are the same ones who want to roll back women's rights and civil rights for minorities. In a very real sense, the LGBTQ pride movement is on the front lines of the culture wars, and the rest of us in the progressive community need to be thankful of them.


Saturday, June 24, 2017

Current Fuzzy Earworm

If you were to ask me what the best album released in the 1990s was, I would unhesitatingly say Hedningarna's Trä... I just didn't really care for the 'grunge' scene, it was just slow, sludgy riffs on a style perfected by the Pixies, a band I have always loved, but devoid of the Pixies' humor. I did, however, love the slew of guitar-heavy bands fronted by female singers, such as Velocity Girl and Belly.

Another similar band was Boston's Fuzzy, who put out some great music, but didn't achieve monster hitmaker status. I listen to a lot of college radio, and Fuzzy's 1994 single Flashlight came up on a recent WFDU 'New Music Smorgasbord' playlist:





Sweet vocals and crunchy guitars... what's not to love? The band recently played a benefit for NARAL Pro-Choice America:





Resistance sure has a great sound.

Friday, June 23, 2017

So Proud of My Country

I've only kept a nominal watch on the news this week, so it was with some dismay that I saw the footage of the Capitol Police, so soon after they covered themselves in glory for stopping a mass shooter, ejecting disabled protestors from Mitch McConnell's office. I figure that, if you are evil enough to slash medical benefits for poor people, you are evil enough to manhandled disabled persons.

On a personal level, I am truly pissed off at some of the responses to this event from Trump supporters. Tengrain linked to NBC's Twitter coverage of this story and one asshole claimed that the protestors were pawns, and when called on it, claimed that they used their disabilities for 'the optics', as if they weren't confronted by their challenges daily. Christ wept, these people are disabled, but they are intelligent people with agency and dignity.

It's not surprising that a Trump supporter would have such a retrograde, bigoted attitude toward disabled people... he's just following the horrible example set by his Creep-in-Chief, who thought nothing of mocking Serge F. Kovaleski:





While Mr Kovaleski has a disability, he's a hell of a lot smarter than Vulgarmort, and would make a better president. At the very least, he wouldn't be slashing the very medical benefits who allow people with disabilities to work and to study and, yes, to protest.

Thursday, June 22, 2017

Going to Have to Think of Ginger as a Solo Act

I've been a bit behind the news this week, being preoccupied with the final days of my beloved Fred. For the record, I spent a half hour with Fred in the predawn hours this morning, bidding him goodbye. This morning, he sat under the apple trees onsite with his sister and a bunch of two-legged co-workers until it was time. At 10:45AM, my friend and co-worker Rob, the manager who is the cats' primary caretaker, accompanied by our co-worker Iris, took Fred to the veterinarian's office for one final time.

The company e-mail system is full of eulogies for Fred, and pictures of the handsome beast... it has been one long outpouring of love for this cat who has been a part of our lives for the past seven years:




The real weird thing is having to talk about Fred and Ginger in the past tense. The two cats were a package deal and a matching set, though they had widely divergent dispositions- Fred being a mellow beast (sorta like a Labrador retriever trapped in a cat's body) while Ginger is mercurial. They were complementary- their interaction never failed to amuse me. It'll be strange thinking of Ginger as a solo act, without her calm, steady foil:




I saw Rob tonight at shift change and thanked him for taking on the burden of bringing Fred to be euthanized... I've been in that position before, and it's not easy. I haven't checked in on Ginger yet, but I'll be poking my head in on her soon. She was clingy last night, tonight I'll let her cling as much as she needs to.

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Friends of Fred

This evening, three of the contractors who work on our major Fall fundraiser stopped by to bid adieu to Fred. Over the years, these good folks have become friends of mine, and friends of the cats. They have logged many hours in on the site, and they came to love Fred and Ginger. Tomorrow, one of our managers has the unenviable duty of taking Fred to the veterinarian's office for the final time- he has had the task of taking the cats for their quarterly checkups ever since we got them from a former co-worker, and his devotion to Fred is second-to-none. I have been getting the sad news out to former co-workers and seasonal contractors who have become attached to our dear cat.

I came in early to work, and the co-worker I was relieving and I waited for our friends to arrive. My co-worker had to euthanize his 15 year-old pet cat only a month prior, due to kidney problems. My brother Vincenzo is facing a similar situation with his beloved 18-year old marmalade cat, Orange Juice. We are all cat people, so there was a melancholy mood to our sendoff to Fred. Petting Fred, my friend Ali noted that he 'looks fat, but feels skinny'... he's bloated from the medicine as well as the tumor, but his spine stands out. I took one last picture of my beloved sibling feline comedy team:




This picture really catches the essence of the two cats- there's Fred, looking regal and composed as he sits on the ground, while Ginger is a blur of motion. My friends took a few pictures of me with the cat, mementos of our final night together. Our friends stayed with us for a good two-hours, commiserating with me and fussing over Fred. I am fortunate to have such good friends, both two-legged and four. Thank you for the outpouring of sympathy, sharing the sadness makes it more bearable.

Monday, June 19, 2017

The Downside of the Deal We Make With the Kitties

I have some sad news to impart to longtime readers... my beloved Fred has been diagnosed with a cancerous mass in his belly. It's probably only a matter of days until he shuffles off this mortal coil. See, there I go with my Shakespeare again...

Fred came to us seven years ago, a package deal with his sister Ginger- both of them offspring of a feral cat which was being cared for by a two-legged former co-worker. At first shy around people, three months after his arrival he grew into perhaps the most loyal and devoted cat I have ever met. I fell madly in love with this cat one night after our major Fall fundraiser, when he trotted at my heels as I traversed a half-mile course from one end of the property to the other over the course of an hour, shutting down lights, locking doors, and making sure that everything was ship-shape.

Fred is one of those cats that acts like a dog- he has always been a calm creature, not prone to the jumpiness that characterizes a lot of felines. As I made my inspection tours of the property, he would be on my tail, while his sister would rove around us, checking out everything and occasionally stopping to give her brother a sniff or to get an ear-scratch from me. It grew to be a bit of a joke, I had two orange-and-white shadows which would follow me around the site.

Over the course of the years, Fred matured into a large, strong cat, an accomplished rodent-slayer and defender of storage areas. His was a handsome figure, a perfect representation of feline beauty and power:




He was unfailingly affectionate with those fortunate people that he favored, and he'd often bump my hand in order to elicit a good scratching:




I am sad that Fred, who I believed I'd have years of future fun with, is on his way out at the all-too-young age of seven, but what really has me concerned is the reaction from his sister. The two have always been inseparable:




The two cats have been quite the comedy team, with Fred playing the mellow straight man to the boisterous, mischievous Ginger. Even today, Ginger caused havoc when a school group visited the site- instead of locking their bag lunches in the school bus, the school group brought them onsite, and Ginger got into a bunch of them, eating the Principal's sandwich and necessitating the hasty purchase of pizza by our shop manager. When they were younger, the cats had a knack for squeezing out of a small vent window and roaming the site until I'd put them back inside- typically, I'd put one of them back inside and the other would get out... a revolving door effect that I found more amusing than annoying. I never failed to laugh when I'd see a pair of tiny golden orbs bouncing towards me as one of the cats would bound over to join me.

A week ago Sunday, one of our managers brought Fred to a veterinarian's office when he appeared to be lethargic. We all thought Fred was merely overheated, but a follow-up visit to Fred and Ginger's usual veterinarian revealed that Fred had cancer. The vet prescribed Prednisone to bring Fred out of his torpor, but indicated that the prognosis wasn't good. Fred hasn't much of an appetite, and his activity level is way down. I have made it a point to stop by and give him attention on a regular basis, because I don't know when our last time to be together will be. I took this picture last night, Fred playing a bright spot in a darkened room:




Four years ago, when I posted about the death of another of our storied mousers, the wise Smut Clyde commented: "It's the downside of our deal with the kitties." I knew the day would come when I would lose Fred, but I didn't think it would be coming so soon. Everyone on the job is sad at the prospects of losing our 'good' kitty... I just hope our naughty kitty can cope with the loss.


Sunday, June 18, 2017

Et Tu, Covfefe?

I've had my beef with Shakespeare, albeit a fake conflict which depended on a familiarity with the Bard's works and with the history which inspired them he distorted. Despite the fact that Slick Willie 1.0 did a hit job on Lady Macbeth and her husband, Good King Macbeth, I just can't stay mad at him. I have long suspected that my father (Happy Fathers' Day to all of the dads out there) was a frustrated actor- he was the sort of guy who would dart a glance at you at dinner and intone: "Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look." As a treat, he took the three eldest of us to see James Earl Jones as Othello and Christopher Plummer as Iago, with one proviso... if we wanted to see 'Darth Vader' live and in person, we had to read the play. For the record, he also took us to see Derek Jacobi as Cyrano de Bergerac with the same prerequisite. In the 7th grade, my English teacher, who was big on public speaking, made us memorize and recite Marc Antony's eulogy of Caesar. Like most educated persons in the anglophone world, I have a long relationship, and a pleasurable one, with the Bard of Avon.

They key word here is 'educated', as there has been a lot of outrage, poutrage, and fauxtrage over this year's Central Park 'Shakespeare in the Park' production of Julius Caesar , in which Caesar is portrayed with a blond combover like Vulgarmort's. I'm going to pause here to indicate that Julius Caesar, while being self-promoting, power-hungry and ruthless, was hypercompetent and a fine literary stylist... much unlike Vulgarmort. There's no real comparison between the two men. Also, as numerous pundits have pointed out, the play underscores the dangers of political assassination, and the chaos which results from using violence for political ends. The play is most definitely not a glorification or endorsement of political violence... but try telling that to the dumbasses.

Last Friday, two alt-right idiots briefly disrupted the performance of Julius Caesar- a demonstration of, well, a demonstration of their ignorance, or more likely, a rube-fleecing, as these hack-tivists launched a fundraising site for the stage-stormer's legal defense... hours before the 'protest'. The crowning glory of this stunt was Posobiec'e goober garbling Goebbels response to the tresspasser's removal from the stage. By the way, nice job, jackass, for making 'the girl' take the risks. The whole sad affair was followed up by the saddest protest in the world.

The real tragedy here is the fact that the people who claim to be the defenders of Western Civilization are people who are totally unfamiliar with it. These people are proud ignoramuses, the sort of people who believe that the Western Canon refers to Fort Apache. Growing up in the Northeast, I grew up thinking that the American ideal was a population in which even the working class was educated, a nation of literate farmers, longshoremen, and factory workers. I believed in a nation which values free productions of Shakespearean plays, which sees itself as a continuation of a classical tradition which Shakespeare, a true Renaissance man, referenced in certain of his plays.

The two alt-right knuckleheads, or grifters as the case may well be, who engineered this stunt should be sentenced to actually reading Julius Caesar, and perhaps writing essays on the themes presented in the play. It really would be a shame if a bunch of idiots could truly declare "Show's over Shakespeare."





Maybe somebody could come up with a 'King Lear' themed monster truck show, maybe a 'Tempest' themed WWE storyline...

ADDENDUM: Or perhaps better called an 'addendumb'- these idiots aren't even familiar with 20th Century American literature or 17th Century colonial history.

ADDENDUM SECUNDUM: This might be my favorite right-wing tweet ever- some guy who is completely ignorant of Roman history and English literature thinks he's going to save Western Civilization.

Saturday, June 17, 2017

Another Trip Around the Sun

Today marks another journey around Old Sol. I was born in a year which marked one of the pinnacles of human achievement (I leave it to you, dear readers, to figure out which one), in an era in which intelligence and learning were taken for granted. It's pretty damn depressing to see how debased our culture has gotten, all to serve for people's greed and prejudices. Quel dommage... quel dumbasses. The future, it's not what it used to be, the shining visions of my boyhood just aren't very convincing, not for the general bulk of humanity. I'm doing okay, though. It just bugs me that so many people aren't doing okay, not okay at all.

I decided not to bother taking a vacation day to mark the occasion... I simply don't have the patience to deal with weekend crowds anywhere anymore, better to celebrate on a weeknight. Besides, I like my job, I like my co-workers, I even like the vast majority of the people who visit, and the ones who I come to dislike are invariably in a clear-cut adversarial position... I like ambiguity, but not on the job.

Before heading to work, I received calls from Mom and my brother Sweetums, and exchanged text messages with a friend who happens to share the same natal anniversary, and another friend whose birthday I celebrated last Wednesday. Phone reception on my personal phone on the jobsite is pretty bad, so I'll check my voicemail in a while to catch up with other well-wishers. I'll save the carrying-on for next Tuesday, my typical night out.

Anyway, it's another trip around the home-star, thanks for sharing it with me, folks. I don't make a big deal about the day, but I'm glad to have friends, family, and readers. Let's hope the coming year sees some improvement in the general malaise that's gripping our not-so-sapiens species.

Friday, June 16, 2017

Addition to the Blogroll

Here's a small housekeeping note... I have added The Ink'd Scrivener, the website of a friend, to the blogroll. I have known the Scrivener for years, and she's a good friend- a generous and caring individual. She's also a freelance writer, so if you have any writing needs, she's your huckleberry:





And she'll never walk over your grave, unless you piss her off mightily. Don't piss her off mightily, though that would take some doing.

Thursday, June 15, 2017

At Least There's Something to Be Happy About

Longtime readers of this blog will know that I have a deep, abiding love of mulberries, which grow in profusion on a couple of my jobsites, and near my home, which is in a vicinity which used to be a failed silkworm ranch. Typically, I consume vast quantities of mulberries in the early summer, though last year was a horrible year for fruit picking- many varieties of fruit were denied me last year.

This year, though, promises to be a good one for usufruct, the first ripe mulberries have already shown up on certain trees:




I spent a good ten minutes on the job simply scarfing down all the ripe mulberries within reach. Most of the fruits are still unripe, the white mulberries are especially hard to determine the ripeness of... ripe berries are not so different from the unripe ones, they merely take on a plump, shiny appearance. The unripe berries are hallucinogenic, but make one violently ill.

One of my informants also tells me that the sour cherries onsite are coming in nicely, they typically ripen in early July. It's going to be a banner year for homemade booze, and the way things are going, I'm going to need a lot of it.

Wednesday, June 14, 2017

This Is What a 'Second Amendment Solution' Looks Like

The big news story here in the 'States is the shooting of GOP Congressman Steve Scalise, a lobbyist, a congressional staffer and a Capitol Police officer. Scalise has had a pro-gun legislative agenda, so there is a certain irony in his wounding at the hands of a gunman. Republicans have long had a flirtation with political violence, as Sharron Angle so memorably stated:

"If this Congress keeps going the way it is, people are going to start looking for second amendment remedies..."

Well, now we have an unhinged individual who found a 'second amendment remedy', which looks a lot like a critically injured middle-aged man. Six years ago, it was Representative Gabrielle Giffords who was shot after Sarah Palin's PAC put out a suggestive ad 'putting crosshairs' on Giffords. There is a strain throughout the American populace which is overly comfortable with the notion of using arms for political aims, including a creep who was actually at the scene of today's shooting:




Rand Paul's statement would seem to condone today's shooting- after all, who gets to be the arbiter of 'tyranny' when arms are available to just about any despondent, desperate, or deranged individual?

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the country, there was a workplace shooting and a lockdown at a military base.

In the wake of Scalise's shooting, Michigan Republican Representative Mike Bishop stated that he was convinced that he was being hunted by the gunman. Well, welcome to the world that you've helped to build for the rest of us... now, what the hell are you going to do to get all of us out of it? 'Second Amendment Solutions' are ugly things, but they're all you've got when the only tool you have is a gun.

UPDATE: This is a bit awkward...

SECOND UPDATE: Remember this charming bit from Trump?