Friday Ephemera (805)
Chicken detected. || Heirloom discussed. || Today’s word is dexterity. || Switches and reels, 1979. || Bang to rights. || Because we’re doing axes now. || Little Miss Biohazard. || Bumping and grinding. || She gets that they’re confused. || She’s not even kidding, you hear. || Chillin’ at the gym. || Alan. || And they jiggle. || Tongue action, 1982. || The cave houses of Kandovan. || Clowns with pronouns discuss “queer animals.” (h/t, Laurie) || The progressive retail experience, parts 701, 702 and 703. || Not entirely unrelated. || He had to explain. || They’re roses. || Knight Rider. || Tricky situation. || Question asked. || Hot and strong, the way you like it. || Her magic shoe didn’t work, it seems. || Dream Cars of the 1950s, parts 1, 2, 3 and 4. (h/t, Elephants Gerald) || And do feel free to suggest a fitting response.
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Now looking at the new Wi-Fi-enabled washing machine, itching to try it out, and am gutted to discover that the only items in the laundry hamper are a pair of socks and a small towel.
Star Trek, Star Wars, Dune, Ringworld, Foundation and Robots, etc.
To be fair, I have heard of authors writing endless sequels, in spite of being tired of them, because their publishers demanded it. “Sure, we’ll publish X, but you’ve got to agree to do another sequel to Y.”
grnf, grnf.
A musical interlude courtesy of Mr. Webb.
Queer activist defends porn sites as “children’s education”
“I Am Legend.”
Todd Is Legend.
Little Miss Biohazard sez “some might call me crazy I call me a woman”
So last century, toots. Don’t you know men can do that now? Nothing special about that anymore – now you’re just being gross. Do better, dear.
Or they could just get real jobs. Or quit once they have enough money and write wtf they feel like for wherever their creative energies take them. Which used to be the minimum expectation of a true artist. If you’re only in it for the money, well…it was your soul to sell.
Guess the accent.
[ Waits for laundry to accumulate. ]
It depends on the competence and intent of the producers, writers, actors, and directors. The woke malevolence of the recent Trek farrago is clear, however relatively recent examples such as the Robert Downy Jr. and Benedict Cummerbund Sherlocks, as well as the previously discussed Mr. Bean Maigret show that modern/new versions are perfectly cromulent when kept true to the originals and not “updated for contemporary audiences” or other such dreck.
Make sure you wash the velour blogging thongs separately. If you mix them with any natural fibers the static will create a VPN tunnel to the washer wifi chip that will allow hackers, passing cell phones, pacemakers, and garage door openers to turn the fool thing on and off at random. If you don’t, don’t come crying to me when your house is flooded because somebody turned it on when you weren’t there.
It’s running as I type. Remarkably quiet, too.
The 2016 Maigret mini-series, four 90-minute films, I can happily recommend. It’s evocative, has a melancholy air, and Rowan Atkinson is surprisingly good in the role. Much better than I expected.
A big part of the appeal – beyond Atkinson’s surprisingly detailed, understated performance and the general quality of the production – is the immersion, the convincing period illusion. The respite from modernity and its trappings.
Shaggers, yes. Shearers, no.
The progressive dining experience: Remember this 2023 case?
Two attackers were sentenced to 3 years. Two others to time served.
Pathological levels of narcissism and stupidity.
John Derbyshire’s “The Talk” remains extremely relevant.
And…uh…speaking of Canada…we were speaking of Canada recently, yes? Well here’s something to watch while you cry into your Molsen or Moosehead.
Why bother making fun of Canada when they do a pretty good job of it themselves?
“Thanks.”
Human rights lawyers? Or lackeys of leftism and islamism?
A distinction without a difference.
Good candidate, but you can’t beat a Stevie Wonder medley by Cher and the Osmonds.
My browser protector says it’s a dangerous site.
https://counter-currents.com/2026/02/why-the-west-misreads-the-third-world/
Following this eye-widening farce, in which a mentally ill woman claimed to be crushed by a haircut booking form, a vision of things to come:
And thus a pretext for punishment and financial ruin.
And so we arrive at compulsory question-begging. This being progress, apparently.
Oh, and gloating, vaguely threatening, cross-dressing men.
We’re not the ones in denial.
Good candidate, but you can’t beat a Stevie Wonder medley by Cher and the Osmonds.
And here my husband complains when I serenade him with my medley of Gordon Lightfoot tunes. The man has no appreciation of culture.
Da Bears.
My only objection to the move is the massive government subsidy–a form of corruption which has been discussed endlessly to no avail.
The progressive out-for-a-walk experience.
Remember Trigglypuff?
I’m tempted to ask whose bike it is.
Because I had to ask…per Grok:
Same here
Pathological echolalia.
One irony being that during the original incident, madam’s wild gesticulations, the comical flapping of her bingo wings, reduced her within seconds to a state of breathlessness. Which was very much part of the meme’s popularity.
That a decade later, she’s still mouthing bollocks about “fat liberation” – despite her own behaviour illustrating just how disabling obesity can be – suggests that she struggles to learn from even quite vivid first-hand experience.
Moar on the sad, pathetic state of America’s hat. Funny how they seem to think that had they been aware that they were declining, such knowledge would have had any effect. Of course it wouldn’t. Mostly because it didn’t and doesn’t.
Indeed.
When I was a child in the sixties, we would often see black kids walking through our neighborhood to the nearby park but returning later riding bikes.
It is no longer socially acceptable to notice that, though.
Pallet cleanser.
Landing on the face was a bold strategy. “I’ll cushion the impact with my teeth.”
Two words: cowboy poetry
[ Weighs merits of crumpets for tea. With cheese, possibly a whisper of Marmite. ]
Pallet cleanser.
I see what you did there.
[ Sounds of vigorous crumpeting. ]
Yes, yes, ‘palate’. Though funny how the type-ahead, next word-chooser thingy put ‘cleanser’ after my horrible spelling. As per usual, I blame the bloody french.
I was just thinking of how awesome Gordon Lightfoot was. Scroll up to the Devon Eriksen disquisition on Canada’s identity problem.
The song in question.
Re the blank slate: the idea that boys and girls are only different due to cultural influences, and we can just give them gender neutral toys to make them identical ignores that across cultures that did not even have contact with each other (e.g., Aztec and New Guinea) and across time, men and women have had clear and consistent differences in behavior, preferences, and personality. Where did these come from if not from biology? How did all the men throughout time across the world agree to impose the patriarchy in the same way before writing even appeared? It defies logic and possibility.
I do believe I saw Gordon Lightfoot in concert…was ok. For sure ages me.