Friday Ephemera (785)
I believe this is called making biscuits. || Tape bowing ensemble. || Big thing incoming. || It’s a Bay Area vibe, man. || Heavy breathing detected. || Deed. || I was unaware of Amish weed. || World Diddling Championship, 1974. (h/t, Mr Snowdon) || Fondling the faucet. || I think these ladders must be faulty. || Discourse was attempted. || The end of cash, 1969. || Change of heart. || Quiet part, out loud. || A searchable archive of 10,000 historical children’s books. || Newcomerliness. || Invitation of note. || Space-age pad, 1976. (h/t, Things) || The unspanked – or if you prefer, the unpunched. || Proverbial knife to a gunfight. || Plot twist. || The progressive retail experience, parts 667, 668, 669 and 670. || Instructions of note. Or, wisdom hard won. || And finally, fun for all the family.
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I was loathe to click the link, thinking it led to some Hollywood Reporter thing, so I missed the joke.
And now I am gobsmacked by that Luigi “wife,” who is either being satirical or she’s a full bubble off plumb.
“Uvalde paramedics, firefighters and police were called to the scene for a disturbance. Officials said her body had caught fire”
That’s it. That’s all they tell you. They took her to the hospital with extensive burns and she perished from the burns. Mom says it was an accident.
What, she accidentally poured 1-K kerosene all over herself and lit it?
Because that’s a thing that has to be explained.
WCGW?
I suspect this has more to do with living in California and/or amongst professional people. The more people you know who carry a firearm, well…
1) Jury duty skips me. The closest I came to being on a jury the prosecutor didn’t like my clear, logical answer to his question regarding eye-witness testimony. I may have embarrassed him. He certainly was rather rude and I was not impressed.
2) Took a several week long community policing course. Some of the things taught in the course, i.e. report every, even minor crimes, because statistics, was not what they really wanted to hear. Had my mailbox vandalized shortly after attending. Something I normally would not bother to call the cops about. Boy, the eye rolls. What has amused me somewhat over the years, especially when I was younger, was whenever I had interactions with the cops when doing something wrong, say speeding or trying to corral drunk friends, the interaction has gone exceedingly well. But when doing the concerned citizen thing, dealing with vandalism or teenagers out of control in our HOA, the attitude of some of the cops and especially some of the administrators has been less than reassuring.
3) There was a time…but no thanks. Clearly I’m too “cynical” as it is.
Argh! Too many acronyms!
Maybe these psychiatrists should be put in institutions for the criminally insane.
Some people just need killing.
A few weeks ago, I was trying to convey to someone – someone in favour of touchy-feely fluffiness – that, short of actual murder, it generally takes a great deal of effort to end up in prison. I rattled off some UK statistics, much like those above, noting just how much violation and degradation of other, better people, indulged in over and over again, is typically required.
This was met with a sudden lack of curiosity and a change of subject.
A modest suggestion: Walled ghettos for the criminals, their friends, and families. Not to mention their defenders and enablers.
When ‘trying it on’ is ingrained.
Being appalled by the effect of the laws you write seems . . . disingenuous.
Maybe these psychiatrists should be made to house & feed this ‘patient’.
One fundamentally stupid aspect is ‘full-time at a community facility with around-the-clock supervision for the past nine months’. If ‘around-the-clock supervision’ is necessary – odd, if he’s ‘cured’ – it seems best to keep him in the psychiatric hospital where it can more easily, cheaply, and reliably provided.
Yet another black racist Jew-hating savage.
But we’re being “culturally enriched”, which overrides all other considerations.
Sure. Make them trusties in those institutions.
Too soon to say. People do sometimes accidentally set themselves on fire. I find it very easy to believe a Democrat could murder a Republican, but we just don’t know.
The word Londoners caught my eye.
The Financial Times article quoted above goes on to invoke our indigenous “ageing population” and the importance of maintaining “the levels of tax that modern electorates have grown accustomed to.”
And this, apparently, will be achieved by importing vast numbers of unskilled or low-skilled migrants who are often unassimilable, often unemployable, and who are therefore unlikely to generate more in tax revenue than they cost to house, feed, and so forth, on an indefinite basis, along with their numerous and multiplying dependents.
Dude, you don’t really think the psychiatrists want to be around him 24/7 do you? They’re not stupid. Well, not that stupid. Evil, yes.
I recommend double-bagging.
Does Colman’s go well with pork pies?
Oh yes, and cheese. I’d add that if you like mustard then you’ll love piccalilli.
For those who missed it, here’s a video in which a Brit, living in Japan, introduces Marmite to his Japanese friends, but with no explanation as to how said substance is usually consumed.
“It’s like chocolate,” he says.
Also, I recently discovered that there are 110 comments on the subject of Marmite.
111 now.
It’s comforting in a way to know the Financial Times hasn’t lessened its grasp of that end of the stick.
The hard end of soft bigotry.
Deep thoughts.
When government agencies turn out not to be malefactors.
Recruitment tool.
The mice were disgusted.
It’s a mystery. An unsolvable mystery.
Er, what is this clip from?
Does the nursing home know they escaped?
Are they Bruegel reenactors?
My first (and to date only) encounter with English mustard remains seared into my memory. It involved coughing, gasping, and significant invective directed at everyone who ever claimed English food was bland.
Tail end boomers (of which I am one)–saddened at having missed Woodstock, Kent State and all the rest–try to make this their 60s moment.
Little do they know that they are now “the man”.
I’m pretty sure the discussions went a tad higher than management.
Hmmm… not really. I was 15 and more interested in the moonlanding than Woodstock. And when I saw the film of it later – ok some of the music was cool but I was pretty disgusted by everything else. Eww.
Yeah, the appearance of aging Leftists trying to relive the 60s hits emotion notes between a general feeling of ick and pity.
I’ve seen the smelling salt challenge. A good whiff of Colman’s an inch under the nose puts it to shame.
And thus not really a tail-end-Boomer. Tail end boomers were born in the sixties not the fifties. That six or seven years actually makes a difference to one’s perception of those events.
“Romanticised” perception of those events
I know because I had a hopeless crush on my cousin (hold-on, she became a cousin by marriage, my aunt’s stepdaughter) and I remember shamelessly talking about “the man” and “the revolution” in a sad attempt to win her attention.
I was born three weeks before JFK’s assassination, so technically I’m a Boomer but I feel kinship to GenX.
So you were the mastermind behind it!
(I was born a few days before the Watergate break-in; who do you think gave G. Gordon Liddy and the rest of that crew their marching orders?)
‘
I was born ’54, husband born ’61 and yeah there is some difference – he’s an old rock-n-roller (bass player) who is wistful he wasn’t old enough to go to Woodstock, but he was never into politics as a youngster and can’t stand his peers now who are woke.
Dicentra: Do not eat isopods. Take this guy’s word for it.
Maybe their larger seagoing cousins will taste like lobster?
Tail end boomers (of which I am one)
Me, too. And when I see some of what my high school classmates post on social media, I just think it’s cringe AF. One recently started a TikTok and her username for it is “mlwarriorprincess1.” Warrior Princess? Sweetie, no . . . have some dignity.
Band name. Obviously.
Heh. Us too. Close anyway.
Similar, but don’t feel such affinity to GenX. I tended to get along better with older kids. And once I entered the work force, people generally older than myself. I was first born child of WWII and Great Depression survivors.
Pretty much every girl I was interested in back in the day either has shown themselves to have become leftists or, because I got curious about this and started looking it up, donated significantly to the ActBlue donor list. Especially the “smarter” ones that were in my advanced classes. Chilling when I think what might have been. I now seem to get along much better with high school classmates that I didn’t get along with. One girl who was a superior athlete with whom my young skinny ass was competitive with until late high school, with whom I was kinda frienemies, pings me several times a week about stuff. Mostly political but she knows a ton of people. She’s met every US president who lived in her lifetime who played golf…except Obama…and it is a bit odd that I have her attention.
I was a tail-end boomer but in the South the whole hippie thing was delayed by many years, so I was still part of it all. We had outdoor rock festivals and I saw Jimmie Hendrix play star spangled banner outdoors on the 4th of July, and Led Zepelin in concert. Got to see the consequences of “dropping out” so I did not.
I was not a tail-end boomer, but I was a tail gunner on a Charmin truck during the pandemic.