The Thrill Of Giving
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For newcomers wishing to know more about what’s been going on here for the last decade or so, and in over 2,000 posts and 70,000 comments, the reheated series is a pretty good place to start. There you’ll find odysseys in consciousness-raising by fearless taxpayer-funded artists; several displays of the true warmth and compassion of Guardian readers; the bewildering mental contortions of leftwing academics; and quite a few things like this.
If you can, do take a moment to poke through the discussion threads too. The posts are intended as starting points, not full stops, and the comments are where much of the good stuff is waiting to be found. And do please join in.
Again, thanks for the support, the comments, and the company.
Hal doesn’t like it when people point out his idols have feet of clay, is all.
Uh huh . . . . noting, of course, just one more thing . . . Aside from, by the way, my not having any idols, what feet of clay?
In other twilight-of-academia news:
Because you just can’t explain quadratic equations without expertise in “social justice.”
Heh. Good stuff.
It does, I think, capture the flavour of academia’s Clown Quarter. From supposedly racist gardening programmes and racist flat-pack furniture to the evils of reading to your own children. Oh, and a report on litter inequality that demands something be done but doesn’t address, even once, how the litter actually gets there. And note that the academics concerned seemed unaccustomed to mockery or any kind of challenge.
“can’t explain quadratic equations without expertise in ‘social justice’”
Well, there is a Leftist Heap in programming, at least.
(As opposed to a Pile of Progressives)
Then they came for the Artists:
https://www.city-journal.org/html/destroying-neighborhood-15485.html
“Aside from, by the way, my not having any idols, what feet of clay?”
There’s no need to get personal.
Boyle Heights was originally a predominately Jewish neighborhood. Once the last of the old Jews died or moved away / were driven out, and their shops closed down, they changed the name of the main street in the area from Brooklyn Avenue to Cesar Chavez Boulevard. I recall recently the LA Times wringing their hands about vandalism in the old Jewish cemetery…
Which makes this bit especially ironic:
“I recall recently the LA Times wringing their hands about vandalism in the old Jewish cemetery…”
But rainbows are beautiful! Diversity makes us stronger! /sarcasm
“In return, however,” said the Patrician, “I must ask you not to upset Commander Vimes.” He gave a little cough. “More than necessary.”
“I’m sure we can pull together, sir.”
Lord Vetinari raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I do hope not, I really do hope not. Pulling together is the aim of despotism and tyranny. Free men pull in all kinds of directions.” He smiled. “It’s the only way to make progress..”
–The Truth, by Terry Pratchett
the Moist von Lipwig books
My impression of Making Money was less that it was an indictment of the supposed flimflam and chicanery in a free market system of capital, nor an indictment of the irrationality of markets per se, but an acknowledgement that flimflim, chicanery, and irrationality are natural parts of the market and it’s better that they limit themselves, or that a savvy person can use them to achieve things without great force.
Of course, there is something of the same dichotomy as the Ankh-Morpork government. An internal conflict between minarchism/hand-off at the highest level and the *ability* to exercise absolute power as a tyrant, the minimal application of universal law vs. enabling excess in guilds as proxies for government power, and local legislation with its many foibles.
which is to say, I think many of the books take the form of an argument Terry’s having with himself, and sometimes he doesn’t appear to have come to a ready conclusion.
That Leftist Heap also looks like an Unbalanced Tree–and is there anything more unbalanced than a leftist?
expertise in “social justice.”
Sounds like a job for our host.
You mean that our host can mete out justice while socially tending bar? I noticed that oak club behind the bar.
Sounds like a job for our host.
What jolly times we’d have.
I noticed that oak club behind the bar.
Discretionary use of the Mallet Of Shame™ is one of perks of blogging. That, and the blogging thong.
[ Adjusts blogging thong. ]
I take it adjustment of the blow/blow harder/stop dial was also such a perk, before it had to go to the shop?
Is that dial in the shop because it is being upgraded to go to 11?
. . . an acknowledgement that flimflim, chicanery, and irrationality are natural parts of the market and it’s better that they limit themselves, or that a savvy person can use them to achieve things without great force.
Absolutely . . . “It’s the only way to make progress..”
Pucci gets arrested, prolly joined by the rest of the Lavishes, in time . . . .
****************************************************
. . . . And I’ve taken a look inside them, too! Your father took the gold and sold it and forced him to hide it in the numbers! And that’s not the half of it!”
. . . .
“Oh, this is so silly,” said Pucci, strutting forward with a clatter of heels. “We’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. It’s our gold, isn’t it? Who cares what he wrote down in his books?”
The phalanx of Lavish lawyers rose very cautiously to their feet, while the two employed by Pucci began to whisper urgently to her. She ignored them. Everyone was staring at her now, not her brother. Everyone was paying attention to her.
“Could you please be quiet, Miss Lavish?” said Moist. The stillness of the blade worried him. Some part of Cosmo was functioning very well indeed.
“Oh yes, I expect you just would like me to shut up, and I’m not going to!” said Pucci gleefully. Like Moist confronted by an open notebook, she triumphantly plunged on without a care: “We can’t steal what already belongs to us, can we? So what if Father put the wretched gold to better use? It was just sitting there! Honestly, why are you all so dense? Everybody does it. It’s not stealing. I mean, the gold still exists, yes? In rings and things. It’s not as though anyone’s going to throw it away. Who cares where it is?”
Moist resisted the impulse to look at the other bankers in the room. Everyone does it, eh? Pucci was not going to get many Hogswatch cards this year. And her brother was staring at her in horror. The rest of the clan, those who weren’t still engrossed in decustarding themselves, were contriving to give the impression that they had never seen Pucci before. Who is this mad woman? said their faces. Who let her in? What is she talking about?
. . . . .
Moist . . . went to grab a Times before they were all stolen.
It must have been another bittersweet day for the editor. After all, there can only be one front page. In the end he’d stuffed in everything—the “I do believe it is pineapple” line, with a picture showing the dripping Lavishes in the background and, oh yes, here was Pucci’s speech, in detail. It was wonderful. And she’d gone on and on. It was all perfectly clear, from her point of view: she was right and everyone was silly. She was so in love with her own voice that the watchmen had to write down their official caution on a piece of paper and hold it up in front of her before they towed her away, still talking…
Sounds like a job for our host.
What jolly times we’d have.
Hal, how does one post an image? Does one do nothing more than post the URL of the image?
Also: Your two excerpts from “Making Money” were rather long.
I always thought that “Making Money” wasn’t a patch on “Going Postal”, and neither was up to his best, which for my taste was “Thief of Time” (followed by Hogfather). I wonder if Moist knew about Rule 1, or anything about Deja Fu.
Which should remind me of the purpose of this thread…when I get home it will have to be.
how does one post an image?
As above, with the .jpg or .gif or .png inserted snugly between the quotation marks. Just make sure the image isn’t too big for the comments space here. Because then I have to start resizing things and it’s an enormous faff.
Hal, how does one post an image? Does one do nothing more than post the URL of the image?
David’s covered the basic bits, there. I’d also add that testing in a different browser window can help confirm the address, and, quite definitely, the Preview button is your friend.
Also: Your two excerpts from “Making Money” were rather long.
Yes—Those being why, for once, I didn’t go with the blockquote, which would have narrowed the margins . . .
Two main thoughts are that One, some notes cover assorted materiel in very few words, other notes rather need to go into details to cover all of assorted points . . . and then there are the all out direct quotes.
And, utterly and absolutely the bottom line on length and content is actually rather simple, that Two, It’s David’s personal playground, and he can and should bloody well yank and edit whatever he wishes . . . .
Thanks for some great reads (and some great threads). Tip jar has been hit.
“how does one post an image?
David and Hal, thank you.
But I am concerned about that method: Linking to an image on another website means that each page view of David’s comment thread will impose a bandwidth cost on the linked website. This might not matter for a large commercial site but could be a problem for an individual who maintains a small website and has to pay a monthly fee which is in part based on the amount of traffic.
“Just make sure the image isn’t too big for the comments space here.”
If the image is too large, one can use a simple editor to resize it.
pst314, save the image in question locally on your computer and then upload to somewhere like https://postimg.org
Then use the Direct link provided by postimg and paste it between the double quotes as shown in David’s post. That should work and won’t put a bandwidth burden on the linked website, but it’s more effort on your part.
Typepad doesn’t seem to provide much guidance on posting images in comments, probably because Typepad site owners can set certain blog commenting features and options themselves.
A blog site with an adult vocabulary and attitude. I aspire to be worthy. Please post no pictures of the blogging thong.
PipersPaul, thank you very much. I was not aware of that site.
A first attempt:
again:
Personal growth. It’s a wonderful thing.
“Personal growth. It’s a wonderful thing.”
I’m not mocking. Well, not much. I’d been doing this for years before it even occurred to me that adding images to comments was a thing that could be done. In my defence, this thing didn’t come with a manual.
I use GIMP for image resizing, cropping, etc. It’s free, which leaves me more money for hitting up people’s tip jars.
Also, thanks PipersPaul for the link to postimg. After the Photobucket fiasco, I’m always on the lookout for image hosting sites.
I didn’t think you were mocking, David. I liked your comment, and it inspired me to have a little more fun.
Are there any pickled eggs left in that jar behind the bar? The brine is rather cloudy.
The brine is rather cloudy.
Cloudy is good. It adds an element of… intrigue.
“It adds an element of… intrigue.”
I was concerned that I might confuse it with the jar of eyeballs you keep for that raven that hangs around.
Cloudy is good. It adds an element of… intrigue.
Well, after all, It was one of those things they keep in a jar in a . . .
Played around with PostImage and it seems like a nice place to store stuff. Tentative “Thumbs Up.”
Though David, you may come to regret providing the HTML photo tutorial at some point when people start going OT to post photos of “Aunt Myrtle’s 89th Birthday Party.” Some knowledge is better kept to one’s self.
I have vibrated your trousers with a small token of appreciation. I trust it’ll be put to good use.
*ping*
I came. I lurked. I hit the tip jar.
I didn’t touch the pickled eggs though.
This is one of my favourite blogs. Have a drink of something on me.
Thanks again to all who’ve chipped in, or subscribed, or done shopping via the Amazon links. It’s what keeps this place here and is much appreciated.
Here in North Carolina, the pickled eggs are pink:
Except the Jalapeno Pickled Eggs.
A little something for your trouble.
Left an envelope behind the collection of pickled egg jars.
May the ‘use-by’ date on your perishables forever be distant.