Tagged: philosophy
Saturday Sermon
The following is the short, thunderous homily I just texted my wife who is constantly perplexed by my actions. She’s my second wife. She is anxious about some stupid imaginary drama regarding her son and his dad who lives in a different country. This is for posterity.
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If you want to attack me about H- and her mom etc, the strongest way to attack is to say, “You paid money NOT to see H-. How stupid are you, Pete?!”
And my response is, “Do you see it then? Do you finally understand? Life is, at times, unbelievably horrible. How does it make sense to be able to pay money to ‘not’ get/buy something, like time with your own child?
“I, your husband, would rather pay money to not see H- (which is insane) than pay money to (maybe) see H-, which is evil. I am not paying people to be my friend. I am not paying you to be my wife. I am not paying children to be my children. Humans are not for sale. Humans are not slaves. That is the outer darkness. That is my ex wife’s world. And the lawyers. And the government. It is not my world.”
I Have No Friends with Whom to Lament Ozzy’s Passing
My pizza place boss, Joe, was the man who introduced me to Ozzy. I was 16. I knew of Metallica, but was scared of Ozzy still. Then I heard his music and had the epiphany that we all did—all of us Baptist kids who were taught (why?) that he was singing satanic songs. Satanic or not, all I knew was his songs and his voice were epic.
Joe had a funny story from his younger days of pissing in the landscaped bushes while in line for Ozzy’s autograph so as to not lose his place. And whether it was the same event or not, when he handed Ozzy the CD, Ozzy signed it and then passed it to the next band member, but not before Joe ripped it out of his hands and declared he only wanted Ozzy’s signature! (Naturally, Joe was drunk, and this accounts for both parts of the story.)
I remember going to Ozzfest at Sandstone Amphitheater in 1998. Over two weeks I saw Van Halen, Ozzy (Limp Bizkit, Megadeth, Tool, too), and Metallica. Talk about a phenomenal two weeks of live music. Life changing.
I remember this same Joe called in to the pizza place when he was in Chicago at a Black Sabbath concert. This would’ve been around the turn of the millennium too. He was, oddly, again in the bathroom. Why he ever thought to check in with us “kids from work” is beyond me.
I think, but can’t say for sure, that I saw another Ozzfest, but whatever the concert was billed as, Black Sabbath was the headliner. That was also a powerful experience. Toni Iommi standing in all black with that cross chain he always wears was just an incredible sight to see. Metallica is the definitive “band”, but Toni is the definitive lead guitarist. So cool.
I remember that all these concerts were years after the farewell tour “Live and Loud” two CD concert set I listened to all the time—my only solo Ozzy CDs. I also had Paranoid. But that was it. At some point I borrowed for an extended period of time Ozzmosis and fell in love with Perry Mason and I Just Want You.
Think of it. The superhuman man writes “I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired” and suburbanite kids like me feel like he knew exactly what we were going through. Ha.
Some fun trivia. Limp Bizkit just opened for Metallica. And Zakk Wylde, of solo Ozzy days (whom I saw—I think) and is definitely on the double CD album, was there with Pantera too. And if you haven’t watched any of the (fairly abysmal) final performance from July 5th, Zakk has a truly heartwarming moment where he, playing for Ozzy, understands that Ozzy is not going to sound as good as the old days and so starts to sing with him, but like, in an all cool-like and as if it was planned etc way. But there was no plan. See 20 sec mark and how Zakk “covered down”, as the Army pukes say. I think he’ll be welcomed into rockstar heaven for that one move alone.
I want to end by reminding the reader that I have often thought and implied and directly spoken the desire that Metallica NOT take the stage when they are too old to do it justice. I still pray fervently that they honor my wish. But as we are almost 30 days after the pair of Metallica shows and I still feel like my voice isn’t fully recovered, the thought, purely speculative, that Ozzy essentially gave everything to that last (admittedly pitiful) stage show gives me great peace.
“Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”
You did it, Ozzy. You embodied rock’n’roll, not just for a season, but with your entire life. Rest in peace.
On The Virality of Being Caught
Like many, many of you, I too watched more than one video of the recent Coldplay Kiss Cam Catch.
Why?
Firstly, because it already was “viral” and so I deemed it worthy of the peek.
Secondly, because the very idea of “getting caught” requires that generally suppressed emotion “shame”.
“Shame”, then, is what caught my attention. Is anyone ashamed anymore? Apparently, the answer is “yes”.
Maybe not the Parents who are castrating their children. Maybe not the Doctors who are overlooking every single problematic behavior in favor of chemical treatments. Maybe not the blue, green, or pink-haired faggots. Maybe not the Marxists. Maybe not the Politicians in general. Maybe not Celebrities. Maybe not Professors. Maybe not MegaChurch Pastors and Boards. Maybe not Blacks. Maybe not Illegal Immigrants. Maybe not Gang Bangers. Maybe not New Yorkers or Californians.
But that couple at the Coldplay concert did. And we all recognized it immediately.
They were living some kind of bliss, some kind of pure illicit fantasy—forbidden love—right up until the moment they were not. Just an amazing thing to consider. Where exactly were they until that moment?
The song in Romeo and Juliet comes to mind. “A Rose will Bloom/It then will Fade”.
It’s My Birthday
I grew up on the movie City Slickers.
In short, it is difficult for me to not agree with his aging bit.
There’s also the natural element of “taking stock” in any anniversary. This seems to lead to either 1. forcedly happy and mostly untrue feelings or 2. depressing realities.
Something on my mind today is the recent observation (more to follow in my next reading log post) that life is unfolding precisely as we/I want. That is a scary thought, no? In my case, I put up with a lot of depressing shyat because I want to be around my kids as much as possible. But is there a way to be around them with less drama? I don’t know. It doesn’t appear so. But I am working on it.
I leave you with a sad, but I can report 100% accurate, commentary centering on the concept of “natural virtues” (you might say “inherent virtues” in 2025), with a close look at “veracity” and “savages”. JS Mill is the writer.

Super?man, A Review of Superman by James Gunn
[SPOILERS] Shortly before the final action sequence, I had the thought, “Well, I can tell my folks that they don’t need to see this.” I think this thought came through because I had previously sent them the trailer, accompanied by some of my excitement and the thought that someone had made a superhero movie which they could enjoy in the classic sense.
My question-mark-bedecked title is not questioning whether the movie is in fact a Superman movie, but mean to indicate my questioning why Mr. Gunn thought it would be a good idea to make Superman hated and weak for so much of the movie.
I liked the “Superman lost his first fight” opening. Plenty of places to take that etc. But shortly thereafter, and for most of the rest of the movie, Superman lost and was weak and hated by mankind. It lasted for far too much of the run time. I wanted to see Superman, not not-Superman. Get me?
I want really difficult achievements being accomplished with ease. I want some seemingly morally challenging situations resolved by doing the obviously right thing. I want some scenes where he is completely absorbed in fighting one bad guy who wants to hurt general earthlings and then another bad guy appears out of nowhere holding Lois or Martha or John (Jimmy and Perry are also available), and Superman triumphs over both bad guys all while saving all strangers and friends/family alike by a tremendous act of sheer will, that again, confirms what we all already knew was the absolutely right decision.
For me, Superman’s actual unique power is his inhuman consistency in doing (all) the right thing(s) in the ethical dilemmas mankind’s best minds have developed to date. I know that this isn’t always the case in the comics. But I also know that you agree with me.
And the simple fact is this movie, while drawing out some unforeseen and difficult to achieve emotional responses from me (it was touching), did not inspire me, did not give me hope.
So, Mom and Dad, you’re better off with whatever memory you have of Superman—which is sad.
To end on a positive note, Kansas and the Kansans were great. The actor cast as the dad is one of my favorites, though I only really know him from The Legend of 1900. But that is enough for me and now with this and that, I am especially a fan.
Thoughts on a Twenty Minute Walk in the Airport
I cannot emphasize enough how genius P.D. Eastman’s “Go, Dog. Go!” is. Nearly every description about the people (and dogs) I just witnessed is contained by that delightful children’s story.
Then again, it didn’t include a woman running in casual attire, or a pilot in the shoe-shine station informing ShoeShine Joe that his pants were tight.
It didn’t include a dad yelling out to his kids that while they were allowed to pointlessly ride the moving sidewalk, they could not run on it.
It didn’t include a man declaring, “He doesn’t even know how to build a client!” into his phone, or a pretty boy young man who made the command, and ill-advised, decision to wear boat shoes—without socks—as a complement to his fashionable ensemble and who now had his (red achilles adorned) heels on the outside/top of the back, almost like they were the newer convertible house shoes I have seen purpose-built with an optional fold-down heel, but, of course, his shoes didn’t have that feature.
The many heathen tongues abounded, too. P.D. didn’t see that coming.
Overall, it was another reminder that it’s a big world, full of people trying to go places. Most are ugly and won’t look you in the eye.
A “Perfect 10” Day
There’s scene in the infamous Nick Cage film “Con Air” where a someone reads a letter from his kid which includes childlike exuberance at all the synchronicity that is unfolding. Something like, “Today is my birthday. Today is my dad’s birthday. Today is the day my dad gets out of jail. Etc etc.”
Heartwarming stuff.
Today, I feel exactly like that kid. It’s going to be a great day!
This is due to the fact that I am about to finish the last 70 odd pages of the 10th Volume of the 10 Volume Gateway to the Great Books series! And today’s date is the 13th, which is 3 plus…10! And right now we’re in the…10th hour of the day! And the authors of the day all once were 10 years old!
On Indian Plane Crash Preliminary Report
I figure faithful readers might be curious what their pilot blogger thinks about the recently published findings about the airline disaster in India.
In short, the findings are: according to cockpit recordings, one of the two pilots looked down and saw a fuel switch “off” when it should’ve been “on”. (For reference/context my helicopter doesn’t have such a switch—there is a cutoff lever for stop fuel flow during fires, but digital technology keeps the engine going.)
That pilot says (paraphrase), “Why did you cutoff the fuel?” The other pilot answers, “I didn’t.”
They then attempted to fix the situation and didn’t have time.
When boys are freely being boys, there is a game/mentality where you do the “wrong” thing as you blame it on the other person. Like, the older brother grabbing his younger brother’s hand and using it against him while saying, “Stop hitting yourself! Stop hitting yourself!” It’s hilarious.
That is the way I perceive these facts, as presented.
Also for reference, the USAF teaches, regarding field of “switchology”, that in crew aircraft (and I will often do it still by myself) the best practices included stating, “I have identified the xx switch.” Followed by, “I am placing the switch in the xx position.” Put militarily, “No fast hands in the cockpit.”
It is very difficult for me to imagine that the “I didn’t” pilot was lying. And a mistaken action during this “critical phase of flight” is just as difficult. So my experience tells me the inquisitor flipped it (for probably forever mysterious reasons) and then caused confusion by “Why did YOU do that?” questioning, for whatever other forever mysterious reasons.
To be clear, the switch has a feature which requires the pilot (or anyone) to first it pull up and then flip it. This mechanical feature was designed so that it/critical-switches cannot be “bumped” accidentally.
Now you know. I wish I could provide better consolation.
Who Knew?
Who knew that the rivers would flood to the extent that they did?
That is the only question that matters. Who knew?
Not, “What were the warnings?” Not, “Would pre-DOGE situation have known?” Not, “When did…?” No.
Who knew?
Is there any meteorologist that would claim that they were interpreting the data and the data suggested that what happened was possible to happen?
Who knew?
If the meteorologists thought, “Zero chance of 26ft rise, but non-zero chance of 25 foot rise,” then we want to know that.
If they thought, “Unlikely, but non-zero chance of 26ft rise,” then we want to know.
None of the other questions matter until someone admits that they knew the floods could happen precisely as the floods did happen. It doesn’t matter which warning system was in place. It doesn’t matter when the warnings were given. DOGE doesn’t matter. Nothing matters until we learn if any human being on earth (likely a meteorologist in TX) knew that the floods would play out as they did play out.
I, for one, did not know that what happened in TX was possible.
What I want to know now is who did know.
Thoughts On Metallica’s Denver Shows
I stood in awe on Night One when they entered Mile High. And I never sat down again. The professionalism, the polish, the poise—it’s perfect. I do not attend many concerts (mostly Metallica and various symphonies) but Metallica is doing something other musicians aren’t. Which leads me to my next thought.
Is it time? Can we finally admit that Metallica just writes better songs? Their songs are just better. That’s why their fanbase is among the largest ever amassed.
Night One, as I said, I stood the entire show. I was in section 309–essentially the fifty-yard line—half-way up the section. Pretty great seats. At times, between songs, I spun around to see how the crowd was doing and was surprised to find them all sitting. “Oh well. No problem,” I thought. “I’ll just motivate them.” And I did. Metallica was down there giving us their all, the least we can do is give our all. Some, not all, got the memo.
Night Two (last night), after Pantera, before they took the stage, I felt a tap on the shoulder and turned around to see a man signaling the lady two rows up is who wanted my attention. As my eyes continued the journey, they landed on what we all would’ve recognized as our high school Algebra 2 teacher. Undeterred from having a good time, I immediately said, “Are you ready!?” She gave me a, “Yes.” And then she proceeded to describe to me how horrible it was on Night One because I stood and blocked her view. Naturally she followed this speech by asking, “At least on a couple songs could you sit down?”
Wow.
Given the movie that recently released, and using the 10% truth rule of Air Force Performance Reports, I asked her, “Did Metallica save your life?”
She didn’t seem to get it.
The other fans were only mildly interested in this back-and-forth. I listened for longer than any heathen fan would have and dryly concluded, “I will be standing.”
She continued to lament to all around her in a whiny, relentless, disbelieving manner (partly ashamed she had asked such a thing, I had to imagine) and I turned to acknowledge her again—again, trying to show respect for her effort. This time, because it was loud, I randomly found myself making the “sorry” ASL fist circle over my heart, which drew a laugh from a mom my age, there with her husband and their teenage daughter. I can’t be sure she “signs” but I think she could “feel” the moment and appreciated my attempts to respect this Miss Nelson, or Mrs. Tietz as it were if memory serves.
“Metallica is Metallica.” Integrity in the flesh. That might sum my thoughts up best. They don’t pretend. They are just simply the best band on the planet, writing the best songs—the definitive band. We can all learn from Metallica. We all owe Metallica. The influence of Metallica is worldwide and enduring.
Was that it? That’s my only question. Will I ever see them perform again? Lars was more vague than normal on his, “Denvah!! We’ll see you again not soon enough!” farewell.
I don’t enjoy the thought that that was it for me. But I do think the world will witness something unlike it has ever seen when the actual end comes for them. What king, what leader, what celebrity has ever accomplished so much for so many?
No, ma’am. People don’t “sit for a couple songs”. When people have taken full account of their lives, people stand for Metallica.
(And for the “W” see this clip from after the show and after the lights came on.)