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May 2016
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Trumpery: Flashy but Worthless Trash

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The Trumpery has a strong appeal to weak people. Their weaknesses can be various, ranging from genetic cretinism, self-induced (either via repetitive cranial injuries or psychological “autolobotomies”), a need for “daddy,” et al. As a result, they have become cultists who read what they feel they need into whatever he says or does, no matter how much it might contradict the needs they feel he fulfills for them. It’s all delusions and fantasies projected on a con man who encourages weak, easily-manipulated people to adore and worship him. Yes: Trumpery Cultists have irrationally promoted The Trumpery to godhood in their own weak, sick minds, just like King Putz’s cultists have done, and just like cultists in any personality cult have done for millennia. Facts cannot persuade them, because they have their fantasies, delusions, and–now–their cultic dogma.

Those who are not deceived by him and do not worship him support him for strictly corrupt, venal reasons. The Trumpery has exactly ZERO support from anyone with a strong connection to reality and halfway decent character. And, no, failing to support The Trumpery is NOT working to enable The Queenie Cacklepants Cylon’s run for the WH. There is no “lesser evil” when choosing between the “presumptive” nominees of the two separate wings of the Uniparty.

Think outside the Manichean duality that supposes that simply because The Queenie Cacklepants Cylon is evil incarnate that The Trumpery is not.

Anyone Else Like This?

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I have a quirk, I guess one might say. An example might be, I need to have my cooking utensils hung in EXACTLY the right place–the place where I expect them to be. If a spoon I need to stir a soup is hung just two places off from its place, I have a devil of a time finding it, sometimes (OK, oftentimes). I’ve been known to look all through the kitchen for the RIGHT spoon, because not only is it not in its place, but imagining it being in another utensil’s place is just. . . wrong.

I have experienced something similar if someone referred to “The Messiah” (as a musical work). I am–or was for years–prone to ask “Who is that by?” since Handel’s work is “Messiah.” Now, I know every single note of the Spicker score for “Messiah,” but for years “The Messiah” used as reference to that work kinda threw me. *shrugs* Of course, this usually only causes problems with things I know well.

No, I do not fit the loosey-goosey DSM-IV OCD diagnostic criteria.

Ottawa Women are Pussies?

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[OK, something of a provocative title. I put it out there hoping it would offend some other pussies. And, of course, given the pussies I hoped to offend, I chose to use the title in what may seem to be an idiosyncratic definition drawn from a possible etymology that proposes that “pussy,” when used in a pejorative manner, is derived from “pusilanimous”–craven coward.]

The Women of Ottawa are apparently ashamed of their own bodies and fear looking in mirrors. They also seem to be afraid of owning their own shame and fear and project anger toward other women whose bodies threaten their own self-images. Not only that, but they are too cowardly to face women whose bodies move them to anger and seek some authority figure to intervene in their stead, allowing them to remain anonymous cowards.

Gym tells Ottawa woman breasts ‘too large’ for tank top

“She was told other clients at the gym had complained her top made them feel uncomfortable.”

“[O]ther clients.” So, maybe not just the Ottawa women are pussies, eh? Po’ babies.

Genius? Notsomuch

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One thing that’s sometimes irritating is reading a book or watching a show written by someone who’s merely bright and trying to write about/write dialog for a “genius.” Unfortunately, the merely bright writer quite often just cannot grasp the flower of “genius” that’s within the nettle of his muddled idea of genius.

Note: I am only “merely bright” and in no way a “genius” (tested out on the low end of the MENSA IQ quals which in NO WAY define “genius”). However, I have been blessed to know and benefit from association with more than a few folks who are so bright they almost make my eyes bleed, *heh* hence my dissatisfaction with fictional representations of “genius.”


10 points for the (scrambled and adapted) literary reference. Points may be redeemed for “pie in the sky,” as it were. Or bragging rights. Quisquis/whatever. *heh*

Open 24/7/257

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A guy’s gotta take some time off. Sleep? Notsomuch. . . *heh*

Pure “Yummers”

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Ingredients:

Mostly picked over carcass of a roast chicken
A couple of quarts of water
An onion, roughly chopped into large chunks
Five or six stalks of celery
A tablespoon or so of peppercorns
Bay leaf
Salt (to taste, after a few hours’ cooking)

Process:

Cooked on high in crockpot for an hour or so, then low for a few hours, then “warm” overnight.

Strain.

Too delicious for words. Store in fridge. After it’s well-chilled, you can scrape off the schmutz (the well-seasoned chicken fat), if you wish, for use in other recipes (DO NOT THROW THIS MAGICAL MATERIAL OUT!!!) or leave it for incorporation when using the stock/broth. I like it for just plain sippin’.

OS Gymnastics?

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Nah, just some light calisthenics. Not even breathing hard(ly). *heh*

So, I started testing out Win10 on some old hardware about seven months ago on a box that had had WinXP, then Win7. *meh* Apart from all the “phone home” junk, as long as Classic Shell’s installed, not too bad compared to Win7/8/8.1, so when I got a new playcompy (the lil notebook I’m writing this on), I went ahead and installed Classic Shell to make its Win 8.1 more usable, then “upgraded” to Win10 and locked it down.

It works OK, for a Windows box.

So, my Wonder Woman kept asking me when she should upgrade her Win8.1 notebook (a sibling to this lil playcompy). This last weekend I said, “OK, if you want it, fine.” *heh*

So, clicked on the Win10 upgrade icon in her system tray and. . . Windows Update. Search. . . search. . . search. . . No updates found and. . . no Win10 upgrade, either. #gagamaggot.

So, downloaded the M$ Media Creation Tool and am now installing Win10 on her computer with that. Probably should just have downloaded the ISO, but just don’t really care all that much. Maybe later.

Even though the M$ Media Creation Tool works, this upgrade was no faster than any other Win10 upgrade I’ve done, clocking in at around 2.5 hours from start to mostly finished. Another hour locking it down, uninstalling crap apps my Wonder Woman will NOT use, configuring Windows Update to NOT update w/o a user request, etc., will take another hour or so, counting double-checking to make sure the configuration actually takes. (Win10’s kinda sneaky about changing configs behind the user’s back, sometimes. No, really.)

Considering Hermitry

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Recently, someone got a wee tad miffed with me cos I will NOT “text” them. Perhaps I need to just become a hermit. Easier on everyone.

I’m Tempted

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But I just might resist temptation. . . this time.

I’m tempted to take either a Linix Mint box with a fairly generous amount of RAM or a similarly-configured Win10 box and play VM games on ’em like I did several years ago when I installed a WinXP VM inside a Linux Mint box and then installed an Ubuntu VM inside the WinXP VM. Ju-u-u-st for fun.

I dunno. Maybe. Ju-u-u-st for fun. After all, I never did go more than two VMs deep. *heh*

I Hate Spring Pollens

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I know they’re a part of the freakin’ “circle of life” and all that, but I’ve been coughing up a lung or two for a couple of weeks now. It’s not all that bad except when a cough surprises me while I’m in the process of swallowing something seasoned with ghost pepper. Then, it’s getting the stuff out of my nasal cavity. . .

I hate Spring pollens.