Tagged: life

The Change in Tenor

Has anyone else noticed the change in tenor?

I’m talking about, of course, the reporting about the NOLA and LV attacks.

It’s obvious to everyone but the Democrats that MAGA is replete with conspiracy theorists. Of all folks who know this, law enforcement tops the list—because they’re heavily represented in the conspiracy-theorists-who-support-MAGA group. But what I want to bring to the fore is how the actual positions of power, the ones being interviewed—the four star guy in LV—seem to be interested first and foremost in debunking all the rapidly spreading new or furtherances of the classic conspiracy theories. An unintended result of this approach, if you happen to see the same world that I do, however, may be the best result we could ask for—the truth has become the emphasis.

The truth is the emphasis. Is that crazy? Am I crazy for seeing this? And for thinking, “This is great!”?

On the Biden/Harris side of things, Kamala just attempted to hoodwink everyone into thinking she celebrated Kwanzaa—despite not being African-American or providing a single photo or evidence of any kind. Why? Because someone thought that lie would be a good idea and further some agenda.

On the Trump/Vance side of things, the police are already showing the evidence from the truck that it wasn’t a lithium battery issue—and, in fact, the truck is still essentially intact. Drive on, Tesla Nerds.

Naturally, the age old proverbs, “Don’t walk around NOLA after dark” and “Don’t be anywhere at 3am” still hold. (Don’t take that to mean I abide—just that I know that I deserve what is coming.) So no need to revamp Wisdom.

There is one other thing that I need to say, though. What exactly is the symbolism of the Tesla in front of Trump’s hotel? For my part, I don’t see it.

People, listen up. The Captain has turned on the seatbelt sign.

There are no terrorist masterminds. Our culture needs to drop that concept. Instead, I only see mushy brains particularly crafted by generations and generations of unreasoned and limitless breeding in illiterate, ignorant filth faucets whose resultant, and singular, thought is, “I must destroy other people’s shiny things.” And, reader, if you’re not with me yet, time to catch-up. My assessment is spot-on. But I need help with the solution—nothing comes to mind.

I don’t know about you, but at these moments, my anger towards all non-Western peoples seethes—to the point of splashing a few non-Western acting Americans and Europeans—namely the woke. Physically, this manifests as a head-shaking to the rhythm of, “You were supposed to thank and learn from the demi-gods who granted you access their Eden, ya morons.”

A Year of Reading in Review

As promised, so far as I remember and/or marked, here’s what I read in 2024. The colorful books with the banner “not for resale” really were just since October—I’ve been on a tear of late. Same with the comic books; when I cut movies (for the most part), I had to find something light and so chose comics that I always wanted to read. You don’t see a few others from a “Predator vs. Black Panther” series and an “Alien vs Avengers” series. A collection of Jack London is the two-page table of contents pic that starts with “The Yukon” and ends with “White Fang.” The individual “First Reading” etc are from the Great Ideas Program. And the table of contents of essays are from Gateways to the Great Books companion set to the GBWW.

I may post again with an answer to the question, “So what did all this reading do for you insofar as tangible results, Captain?” For today, I want to share an infamous quote by Faraday. When he was asked, “What is the point of this discovery of yours?”, he responded, “What is the point of a child?”

Happy New Year!

On Cold Showers

It’s been a year and a half and only lately have I not held myself to perfection. I have to admit that I lost a little motivation when Wim made the news for allegedly disturbing behavior vis-a-vis his first marriage. But I still enjoy the challenge.

In the end, if I’m feeling like a warm shower, I take one. But if I am feeling like “not a cold shower!”, then I force myself to take a cold one. And cold showers all other days too.

Oh, the dread.

At the “work house” I have pleasantly avoided the dread twice now, in two distinct ways. The first time was like this. I didn’t check the faucet selector valve and so was shocked that the water came from overhead immediately. Normally there is a slight delay from “cold water – on” to “feet cold – confirm” to “here goes” to “water traveling up” to “AAAAHHHHH! FREEZING!” And this is followed by a song, often a broadway hit. So the day of this first dreadless experience, I skipped all the middle steps and went directly from “cold water – on” to “AAAAHHHH! FREEZING!” and song.

The second time happened just tonight. While I had learned a valuable lesson from that first mistake, I apparently have not worked out all possible kinks—again the work house with its rotating occupants is tricky. Tonight I didn’t think to check where the shower head was pointed and so in the aforementioned sequence went from “feet cold – confirm” to “GAPING CHEST WOUND! FREEZING” as I immediately and simultaneously shrank down to take the brunt of the impact on my skull (the preferred option) as I reached to adjust the angle of the cold demon’s barrel.

Crisis averted.

And a VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS! to you, faithful reader.

God Bless the Master of this House

And Its Good Mistress too

And All the Little Children who round the table goo

And all your Kin and Kindred who dwell both far and near

We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

The Drones Are Operated By Trolls

Sometimes my wife doesn’t even have to say a word to “warm me” in the 19th century adventures-for-boys books’ sense. Anyone know what I mean?

The other night I came home from my week at work as a professional pilot and found her watching news clips on the drones. Now, any mortal’s wife who watches news clips on drones is just behaving like a woman. But a pilot’s wife who gets caught up in the story without asking her divine husband about it? That’s worse than calling a fella a liar to his face.

As I said, it warms me. No words necessary. No tumbling around necessary.

It isn’t just the disrespect which accompanies the fact that I would have some insight because it’s my job, that gets me going. It isn’t just that the people talking to the news reporters she is watching are less qualified to know anything about aviation in 2024 than I am. It isn’t just that she is the same woman who would blame my job’s schedule for most of the current and constant marital discord and yet cannot seem to piece together that “I have someone I can ask”, no. It’s that even after all the fake news and bad reporting of the last, I don’t know, 10 years, she is still willing to consider that “they don’t know what they are.”

Well, honey, they’re drones operated by trolls. And at this point I would drive out there and have a little fun with the morons, if only I had a drone.

As far as national security is related, I will tell you confidently, and not confidentially, that the only threat to national security these drones possess is revealing to the occupants of the universe that the USA is populated by morons. Unfortunately, or fortunately, we’re tops at the moment. So the threat isn’t grave. Carry on.

On Culture

I used to think that culture was “you use chopsticks, I use silverware,” and a myriad of other inconsequential and oftentimes interesting differences. And in this thinking, the important, unifying fact was that the food still made it to the mouth.

This is not culture.

By analogy, culture is, “We made it one trillion years on this planet before seeing silverware! Don’t lecture me on Henry Ford or freedom!”

In short, if the people from two supposedly different cultures aren’t engaged in contentious pride fighting, they aren’t from two different cultures.

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Why does this matter to me? Because I get tired of people who have only engaged with other people from the same culture acting like they have any idea which way is up. These uni-culture people may prove the smartest on Earth, but that doesn’t mean they know which way is up.

Teachers Receive Stricter Judgment

Do not, many of you, become teachers, my brothers, knowing that we will receive a stricter judgment.

For all the experimentally-derived information not found in the books of the Bible, it sure does contain many easily deduced sentiments.

For my part, I have been elbow deep in Natural Science essays of late, essays whose subject matter has ranged from stars to candles, from chalk to mountains, and from monkeys to conservation of energy. Essays, I say. Maybe 20 total. About 450 pages worth. And these by the actual discoverers of the subject. I have not been reading a textbook written by some no-account hack with bought-and-paid-for letters after their name, just essays written by the men whose genius advanced material life on this planet so rapidly in the last 400+ years.

After the last two essays which covered such basic topics as the “law of periodicity” and the “law of conservation of force”, of which such simple words like “period” and “foot-pound” were defined—words which none of you (or I) could define upon request, but which we employ at our leisure—I started to get angry.

I wasn’t feeling sorry for myself—I am certain that I have now read more than most ever have or will on from the field of Natural Science. And that thrills me. Instead, I was thinking of my kids and all other kids. They are sitting in schools right now, staring at the periodic table and completely unaware why it is so-named. They are, if lucky, in an auto-tech class turning wrenches, and applying torque, without being able to define what it means that the limit for that bolt is 120 foot-pounds—or from where the expended 120 foot-pounds of energy get replenished.

Before you get all “Well, Pete, you’re forgetting that not everyone…” on me, I want to re-iterate these are kids who are in school! What else are they doing if not learning? And, keep in mind I have already suggested a mere 500 pages would advance their knowledge to within reach of the current peaks of human knowledge of natural science.

Also to be clear, I am suggesting these essays would be the course. Have a teacher lead the kids through them and then see what the kids want to do. I cannot be persuaded that they would choose to stop there. It is a sure bet that their curiosity would be piqued and each would willingly follow the most interesting path they saw available to continue down.

As it stands, “hydrogen will bond with…” inspires hardly anyone and we act little different than the uneducated nations and “emerging” cultures which leave a child to himself as we declare, “Oh look at that! He’s gonna be a football player for sure!”

Since obtaining a step-son from another culture, worlds away, I have seen nothing but the distribution of participation trophies which the adults and kids assign as symbolic displays of new expertise in subjects of which they both are ignorant and of abilities of which they are both wanting.

My step-son’s skin is dark, so this was to be expected as the whites in education are utterly brainwashed into thinking BIPOC folks are genetically inferior.

But I have unfortunately watched this occur all across the spectrum. The entire field of education is one big gold star for trying. The underlying sentiment has become, “You are too stupid to understand the hard stuff, so let’s just stay in the shallow end.” The obvious trouble with this idea is the people doing the hard stuff disagree.

Education, hear me clearly, is directly opposed to the priesthood. If you believe there is some special class of human that children cannot generally achieve, you cannot also believe in education. You might as well burn books. This is no different than how you cannot believe both in a geocentric and heliocentric model of the universe, or girls can become boys and boys can become girls.

In the end, in all my “this is wrong”, I found myself reminded of the scripture I opened with. Most Christians would limit James’ warning to spiritual matters. I disagree. Teachers will be more strictly judged. Teachers are being judged. We are all being judged by their failure.

Three Pointed Feelings On Political Violence in the USA, 2028 POTUS and Nuclear Bombs

Still riding the high of having correctly *felt* Trump was the clear winner long before election night, I want to share three more *feelings*.

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First, I have already mentioned that the next bout of political violence will be at the public funeral of a certain folk savior. Nothing new to say; I am just collecting it in one post.

Second, in the exact same manner and for the exact same reason as America loved itself for electing Obama (both shameless fantasy), in 2028, America will once again engage in a shameless fantasy act of self-love as it elects a woman to the office of President of the United States. I have long chuckled that the most bluntly misogynistic man defeated the first two legitimate female candidates. But fate can only laugh for so long. The mood is changing and the next president will be a woman.

Third, you, me, our children—everyone—needs to be ready for the news cycle to breeze past the first use of nuclear weapons. The “breaking news” will move on to “developing story” and finally be replaced by celebrity gossip or palace intrigue in precisely the same manner with which it breezes past every story. To be clear, someone is going to use a nuke. The fact will be hyped beyond belief with a fever pitch rarely able to be achieved, but there will be no actual mutually assured destruction or end of nations or shift in power balance. And, again, the proof in the pudding of my *feeling* (the way you know you heard it hear first) will be when the news cycle drops the story within the same time period as Oct 7, or the invasion of Ukraine etc. Nuclear war is here to stay and the idea that it was a “one off” or “we learned from the first use” is childish.

American Wives Are Humanity’s Low Pressure Systems. What Happens If Equilibrium Is Withheld?

If I was teaching meteorology to pilots, then my first lesson would include a tub of water, with a movable divider holding an amount of water at bay from filling the tub entirely. (Picture a tub half full, with an actual divider keeping the water to the left half. The right half is dry.)

I would then ask, “If we define high pressure as where the water is, then how would we label the area where the water isn’t?”

The motivated and slightly piqued students would answer, “Low pressure.”

“Good,” I would rejoin.

Then I would call the room’s attention to the tub and, with comedic flare, withdraw the divider. All would see the high pressure water rush towards the area of previously low pressure, crashing against the walls before quickly calming to a standstill.

“If you can admit that that just happened, and trust that it isn’t limited to the apparent lateral movement as this tub seemed to indicate, but vertical as well (which, if you consider what you witnessed fully, then you will be forced to conclude that water did move in the available three dimensions entirely), then you can understand every other concept of meteorology—and make sound weather calls throughout your life as a pilot.”

The high pressure seeks balance. It must find the balance it seeks. This is meteorology.

What about relationships?

“Feeling low” is probably the simplest description of “depression” (itself still in the same semantic domain as “low”). We all have experience, whether first or second-hand, with people feeling low.

What happens if the “high pressure” doesn’t rush in?

More often than not, people who demonstrate the need for help receive help. But what happens if they do not receive it?

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I refuse to believe that life on earth is about high pressure rushing to lows. I just refuse. It especially bothers me when the lows self-declare. Contrary to the smut pushed by “mental health crisis” hypsters, there are objective markers that life is not only “okay”, but that life is so good that you have actually not one damn thing to complain about.

I feel like I can distinguish this refusal from the “Am I my brother’s keeper?” domain. Maybe I am wrong. Maybe anyone riding high owes their entire existence to coming down. “Misery loves company” is my counter. “Don’t bring me down”. “Look at the lilies of the goddamned field.”