Tagged: Writing

Self-Imposed Curfew

Just jotting a few thoughts on topic of Minnesota.

  1. For people acclimated to the cold, IE Minnesotans, Dakotans, Montanans, etc, standing outside in the cold is not an indicator of anything. (For Somalis, on the other hand, standing outside in the cold reveals them to be stupid.)
  2. I happen to have watched videos of officer involved shootings before the last couple weeks. They are never “clear cut” or have some obvious flow or escalate linearly. Hollywood et al should not be relied on for how an officer-involved shooting should look or feel. Go look up other videos and see for yourself. They are all utter chaos. That’s why law enforcement exists in the first place.
  3. My visceral reaction to this morning’s shooting is “These dumb motherfuckers (meaning the lefty whites) just normalized ICE-involved shootings. It now feels just like school shootings. ‘Another one? When will people learn?’”
  4. I want the Law (meaning all people who act as our Law, legislature, executives, and enforcement) to know I support them, not the protesters. I think the best way I can do this is stay inside, not counter-protest etc. Let the morons and rabble who only want destruction self-identify and be the only ones out on the streets. That will make it easier for the Law to do their job.

Time to Revisit Immigrants and Bananas

The main line is sung in a memorable scene in A River Runs Through It, but it took me decades to actually google it.

With absolutely nothing derogatory towards liars, Somalis, or loose band-aids in mind, and instead offered in the spirit of legal immigration, here ya go. You’re welcome.

Yes! We have no bananas!

There’s a fruit store on our street
It’s run by a Greek
And he keeps good things to eat
But you should hear him speak!
When you ask him anything, he never answers “no”
He just “yes”es you to death, and as he takes your dough
He tells you
“Yes, we have no bananas
We have-a no bananas today
We’ve string beans, and onions
Cabbageses, and scallions
And all sorts of fruit and say
We have an old fashioned to-mah-to
A Long Island po-tah-to
But yes, we have no bananas
We have no bananas today.”

Business got so good for him that he wrote home today
“Send me Pete and Nick and Jim; I need help right away.”
When he got them in the store, there was fun, you bet
Someone asked for “sparrow grass” and then the whole quartet
All answered
“Yes, we have no bananas
We have-a no bananas today
Just try those coconuts
Those walnuts and doughnuts
There ain’t many nuts like they
We’ll sell you two kinds of red herring
Dark brown, and ball-bearing
But yes, we have no bananas
We have no bananas today.”

Yes, we are very sorry to inform you
That we are entirely out of the fruit in question
The afore-mentioned vegetable
Bearing the cognomen “Banana”
We might induce you to accept a substitute less desirable
But that is not the policy at this internationally famous green
Grocery
I should say not. No no no no no no no
But may we suggest that you sample our five o’clock tea
Which we feel certain will tempt your pallet?
However we regret that after a diligent search
Of the premises
By our entire staff
We can positively affirm without fear of contradiction
That our raspberries are delicious; really delicious
Very delicious
But we have no bananas today

Beasts vs. Bits, A Joint Movie Review of Beasts of the Southern Wild by Benh Zeitlin and Tron: Ares by Joachim Rønning

How does one land on 2012’s Beasts of the Southern Wild in 2026? Easy—if you’re a helicopter pilot.

Here’s how.

You call a friend, a fellow helicopter pilot, and while talking entertainment, he recommends True Detective (only S1). You watch it. During the call to discuss and thank for the recommendation, the conversation includes “really like the setting as character” and turns to Louisiana, and fears and love of that place. Next you recall that your friend has spent some time there because of “flying in the gulf”. Intermix some marriage and family chatter, mostly involving cross-cultural marriage, and the self-same friend mentions Beasts.

That said, here is what I sent him after my viewing.

1. Not in category of my “favorite movies” but definitely in category of “perfect movies”.

2. Can’t say I have ever seen a better performance by an actress than that girl.

3. I’ve been reading books on Jesus’ parables for a couple months now (on second book…) and this movie definitely fits as parable or allegory—but on steroids. It is amazing how many aspects of life it covers, and that I want to think more about all of them.

4. I think a lot about death and dying, and the lack of dignity we give it. The “plug you into a wall” line is the best summary of what is wrong with modernity’s handling of it that I have ever heard. And I cannot think of a better way to go than while holding someone I love.

Today I will add another thought I had—which will connect to Tron: Ares.

5. I love when a movie is clearly made by one and only one person. Beasts is so singular in its focus there is no doubt in my mind that we are watching a true artist at work—not the shapings a committee or AI.

Tron: Ares on the other hand is clearly, and unsurprisingly, the work of a ‘system’. The ‘system’ being the largest contributor to the death of art. Even when only one director is named, everyone (who cares) knows Mr. Fancy “O” didn’t make the movie he wanted to make. Instead, he made the movie he was allowed to make. Who gave him permission? Unspoken facial expressions. Indirect, latent meanings to rhetorical questions. The lowest common denominator of risk aversion. At every level, Tron: Ares was adulterated. I’m not trying to start a new conspiracy theory, but very really and truly Tron was made using the precise methods AI uses. Unfortunately for us, that is not how good art is made.

As far as the movie goes, the visuals were exactly what I wanted to see and watch. The jet ski chase seen being a definite win. The story was lame for anyone who knows the word that follows “paperclip” when talking about AI.

But the nuance I want to emphasize here is that Tron fails for every reason that Beasts succeeds, and yet Beasts is not made by Beasts.

In short, there is a terrifically false urban legend that tribal peoples have some great “lore” or stories from which they draw strength and unity of purpose and longevity. The sober truth is nothing could be farther from the truth. It is the leading civilizations, it is Western Civilization that has the great “lore” or stories from which we draw strength and unity of purpose and longevity.

To be clear, all that needs to occur for me to be proven wrong on this point is some tribe, be it one with truly no contact with modernity, or, say the Somalis, to make Tron: Ares. Or even the first Tron. Hell, I would happily recant if they used an ink pen of their own creation to write a story, or a Somali assault rifle to board a ship, or even musket in the case of piracy. But they don’t, won’t, and haven’t. This lack of good story is not the result of some external circumstances, it is the reason for external circumstances.

In using Somalis, I am not bashing some “race” here. I am merely making the point that even the film and story Beasts, for all its Beast-y-ness is not being told by its own protagonists, unless we alter it to the most metaphorical sense, more like “beast mode.” Instead, it is being told by Western Civilization. The strength of the story is contained in its unflinching depiction of truth, which includes some welcome criticism of WC.

If there is one feature that primitive peoples and the communists behind Disney movies share, it is that in storytelling, success aligns perfectly with honesty.

They Do Not Conceal Like I Would

It is surprising to me, and seems to surprise most of us, that the bad guys self-identify so strongly.

I am currently reading GW’s biography. There have been parallels to today which are difficult to ignore, even as they aren’t 1:1. For example, I have to admit that had I been British back then, I would probably have been surprised that the colonists were so blatantly identifying as enemies. I would have thought, “Don’t they understand who they are up against? Maintaining neutrality, even as a feint, seems the stronger play.”

But no. When a fight is brewing, the two sides declare themselves.

I think the matter can be put plainly: When you’re on the side of those with the guns, it is surprising that the people without the guns would fight you—but it shouldn’t be.

These contemporary secessionists in Portland, Minnesota, and elsewhere have not yet declared independence. I would say, on most levels, they are miles away from being organized in any sense like those who declared independence back on July 4, 1776. But I will not be teaching my kids that it is surprising that stupid people unabashedly announce the side they’re on.

On the Whole “Effin’ B’” Comment

I would be stunned if my dad has ever uttered that phrase—stunned. Is this because he has never been around “effin b’s”? Or is this because he doesn’t get rattled?

I don’t recall ever saying that phrase, certainly not earnestly. I prefer the “c-word” if I am grump about the fairer sex AKA “ex-wives who steal from me”.

I doubt many of you have ever walked away from a female and audibly declared, “Fuckin’ Bitch.”

But I say that learning that our LEO kills the woman and then utters, “Fuckin’ Bitch” changes the tenor of the scene.

New question: does it change it to “more complete” or “less complete”?

From early high school I grew up in gym locker rooms and loved the honesty I witnessed. For whatever reason, I never quite joined the cursing crowd. And I didn’t really harbor hate towards anyone or any group. But the colorful stories were enchanting.

Nowadays, I spend tons of time around beloved “First Responders”. I don’t exactly consider myself one—pilots like me, to me, are a class above. But these people see things. And what they see is far more “locker room” than “civilization”.

And time is of the essence. So inappropriate jokes still bubble up from time to time—though, unfortunately, professionalism rues the day these days.

Back to the killer LEO. He kills a woman and walks away declaring, “Fuckin’ Bitch.”

Out of the two options I have laid out, the phrase seems to change the tenor to “more complete” in the sense of “more accurate” by my thinking.

These women are out there, folks. My suggestion is try not to be one.

“The Law Must Win”

The law must win.

This is timeless wisdom. This is the proper perspective. This shouldn’t be controversial.

If someone you know, or if you, find this controversial, that does not surprise me. It just means that their (or your) position is anarchy.

Those of us who believe the law must win do not owe the anarchist a Covey-esque attempt to understand or empathize, anymore than we owe thieves or murderers the same.

It should not surprise that criminal behavior and criminal minds exist. It should not be surprising that people disagree that the law must win.

There is no world where we all exist to follow the law. That is the point.

So, the law must win.

Nearly Unremarkable, My Review of “One Battle After Another”, By PTA

Solon’s sentiment (provided by Plutarch, circa 100 AD) is my entire review.

But to add one additional measure to Solon’s opinion, I would say, “The opening scene made me think, ‘I don’t want my kids to know I watched this garbage.’”

I share that not because I am going to fulfill my feeling, but because the only other movie that provokes me so was Babylon and its elephant opening.

PTA has obviously earned a hearing, but, unlike his others, this movie has too many flaws to be anything more than a “sign of the times”.

Your Mission: Help Me Introduce Santa Claus…

…to a mohammaden boy and dad in my daughter’s kindergarten class.

Will you help?

My daughter, A-, came home and told her small brother and I that a her table-mate told her there is no Santa Claus. The trouble is this wasn’t a classic case of some kid seeing his parents wrapping the presents or hearing his older sibling spoil the fun. This was a little jihadist who sees the Great Satan everywhere not covered by bedouin clothes.

After confirming to A- and J- (whose relief was palpable and adorable) that there most definitely is a Santa Claus, I told A- to tell the boy, “If I was you, I wouldn’t be worried about Santa as much as Pedro Negro!”

Then reality hit. I mean, this poor kid is here. And in kindergarten no less. There are even futures which contain him and my daughter being friends—or worse!

What to do?

Here’s my plan. I bought the boy a toy car of the classic ‘57 Chevy Bel Air in Teal. Think Beach Boys Americana.

I bought the dad a book I have read: The Lost History of Christianity: The Thousand-Year Golden Age of the Church in the Middle East, Africa, and Asia–and How It Died.

The car is pure assimilation. IE, it’s a beauty—appreciate it or learn to appreciate it. Or leave.

The book is a challenge. “Here’s what we all know. Do you know it, sir?”

I have also printed a three page introduction to Santa Claus from my set of “The Children’s Book of Knowledge”, circa 1950. It is actually internationally flavored, explaining different traditions from different cultures.

Lastly, I will write a note of introduction. As in, I am Santa and want to introduce myself.

What should it say? What feeling will work?

“Work” meaning “move the family away from rigid-mohammedan-anti-assimilation-bullshit and towards the Christmas spirit.”

Comment below with your thoughts and ideas. Any and all are welcome, to include criticism of the plan.

Reading Log 12.18.2025

It’s been since September 20th that I posted an updated reading log. These six make it seem like I barely made time for my hobby. I can’t explain it, but except for last hitch, I have been reading as normal.

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George MacDonald is just fantastic. And any book that includes dialect spelling is fantastic. So be sure to check out his Heather and Snow.

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The Aristotle Nichomachean Ethics section was exceedingly worthy. Most importantly, the name (Nichomachean) derives either from Aristotle’s father or son. I say Aristotle wrote down what his father taught him. Be that as it may, the lucidity of the ethics are remarkable. Here’s one example for ya. You know how we always hear the BIPOC and BIPOC-infatuated leaders talking about “equity” these days? They throw out some idea like “equity, not equality”, right? Then they proceed to explain the most unequal thing in the most confusing way, right?

Well Aristotle (or his dad) used the word equity in the following way. He said there is the universal law, say, “Do not steal.” Then there is the nuances of the law, to include all the particulars, like, stealing a lot is obviously different than stealing a little. Aristotle (or his dad) uses the word equity to describe the nuanced consequences of the application of the law. In other words, the difference between going to jail and simply giving the stolen good back to the owner was equity. My example is correct in principle, not particulars. No matter how fine the law cuts it, there is gray in between—this is equity to Aristotle.

Here I don’t mean to applaud the idea of equity in Nichomachean Ethics, but to draw out for you that over two thousand years ago one man wrote clearly and it appears the best we can do today is worse.

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Does everyone understand that George Washington was British? Did you know that Mount Vernon was so-named because George’s older brother, Lawrence, served in the British Fleet under one Admiral Vernon whom he so loved that he named his property after him? Has everyone slept outside in the cold with savages nearby, allies mostly, but likely enemies too? As holy writ declares, “We are but dust,” compared to this great man. You could read and re-read Washington Irving’s biography and never be worse for it.

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I found this 600 page Justice League America collection of comics at the library. The series came out in the 97-98 time period. They were fun. Who doesn’t love the dynamic between Batman and Superman? And now I know more about Martian Manhunter too. The end of Justice League Snyder Cut always bothered me. But not anymore.

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How many times do I have to write about the moooslims? One more I guess. That’s what the Song of Roland is about. French Christian Knights vs saracens. I read the long epic poem, supposedly a first of its kind—its kind being nationalistic or patriotic poem—in two days. I go so deep when I read that I don’t recommend this to anyone similarly talented. I mean, for a day or two, I thought I saw everywhere the mooslims were invading our lands.

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What can I say about finishing the two volume Reporting Vietnam set? Couple things. First, the French had colonies in Vietnam before WW2. (Maybe earlier too.) But the point is that France took such a beating in WW2, geographically situated as they were, that the Allies decided to help them rebuild after the war. That is where America enters Vietnam—what is so wrong about helping French rebuild their colonies?

Second, during WW2, Ho Chi Minh gained power because he wanted all the foreigners out—Japan and France (later America etc). It will be forever debated if he was a communist at heart or just used communism as a timely tool.

Third, I used to think it cool to baldly state, “We lost Vietnam.” I remember even daring my helicopter instructor pilot who fought heroically in Vietnam to admit it, which he did unreservedly, probably for the millionth time to POS’s like me. I will never say this or allow someone else to say it ever again. The US did not lose Vietnam. The South Vietnamese lost. We fought, we left. We did not lose. Losing a war is terrible. Never lose a war. Anyone who says anything to me about America that sounds like they want it to lose a war now gets verbally reprimanded at the highest socially acceptable level. Every person alive should want their country to win any war it engages, at nearly any cost, rather than suffer loss. We did not lose Vietnam.

In addition to having the above new things to say about ‘Nam, I want to share two images that now adorn my house. First, this hangs in my garage.

My gentle wife took days to notice and when she did, she asked, “Isn’t that a bad word?” in reference to the kids growing up with it in view. What a great question. How would you answer her?

Secondly, this is now the backdrop to my beloved piano.

I teach the kids to repeat after me, clockwise from the top, right first, then left, “Nelson (Nelson), Robert (Robert), Miguel (Miguel), Ho (Ho), George (George), Ghandi (Ghandi).” And I ask you, what do these men have in common? Why would I, Eagle Scout, USAF Pilot, Baptist, and Thanksgiving-and-Christmas-working first responder have Ho Chi Minh on my wall, my mind, and my children’s minds?

Hint: the key to life on earth as an American is the Vietnam War. There’s a reason for the current confusion. And it has nothing to do with events of the day or what you consume daily; it has everything to do with what you have never read. Both the reason you have never read it (or been required to—nothing conspiracy theory here—just general shame and incompetent teachers) and the history you will discover upon reading it are relevant.