They’re Killin’ Me. . .

No, not my dogs (although my feet to hurt a bit. . . but then I’m getting old, so what do you expect? :-)) People who are fairly literate who nevertheless allow Crap Media (A/K/A the Mass MEdia Podpeople Hivemind, badly-edited poplit, etc.) have far, far too much influence over their own vocabularies–spoken and written.

OK, so I engage in quite a bit of “pop-speak” from time to time here. That’s fine. It’s casual writing, and I’m not getting paid to do it. But even “casual” writing should be correct if someone’s getting paid for the words they casually and, all to often–unfortunately–carelessly toss out.

Several times, recently, I’ve seen such abortions as a noun (such as “workout” or “logout”) used as verbs (“work out” or “log out”). Enough lazy, subliterate, immoral idiots do this and you can bet such things will become widely used enough to blur and then eliminate the useful distinctions between noun and verb forms in print.

It’s appalling. . . and as I said, immoral for people to take money to do a job and then do it badly. It’s theft. (It’s also a crime against the English language, but I don’t know of any statute that would apply. *sigh*)


N.B. I do cut a few professionals some slack in certain circumstances. I read a lot of Advance Reader Copies of books, books that are in the penultimate stage of editing before publication. I expect a few errors in such books, because ARCs usually serve as final proofing copies that will see another read-through before actual publication. So I cut those authors/editors some slack if only a few problems crop up. Example: last night I read a (~400-page) ARC that had three glaring errors: “then”for “than” three times. It’s a form of mental typo that sometimes crops up in even the most literate writers’ works, and is almost always caught at one stage or another of the proofreading/editing of a book issued from a good publisher and apparently almost NEVER caught, in my experience, by “Indie” (self-pub) authors whose proofreaders are of an uneven nature. Unfortunately, traditional publishers are more and more drawing authorial, proofreading and editing staff from a pool of college grads who are themselves essentially illiterate, so some ARCs from trad-pubs are littered with all sorts of crap. . . that makes it into the final, published, books. *sigh*

“Rubber Bumper” Society Encourages Stupidity

The way so many people have been reared in virtual bubbles in the last few decades has led to all too many people wandering through life apparently feeling invincible.

Not so with me. I was a slow learner, but I have–slowly–learned both prudence (well, in matters of physical safety) and gained confidence in my genuine abilities through a process of exploration of things that weren’t always. . . safe.

No room here to detail all my childhood adventures and play, but they were more risky than most kids seem to experience nowadays (No, I’ll not explain the rules of Dodge-Rock. I’ll just say that we didn’t have nice soft balls to play with and leave it at that. . . :-)) By the time I reached junior high, I had had a major gash in my left foot dealt with by stitches, a bigger HOLE in my left hand, suffered unconsciousness from a fall (only about 20′ but not bad for a seven-year-old kid), broken arm (left again. . . Hmm. . . I see a pattern), broken leg (AGAIN, left, but other assorted head and limb injuries slightly disguised the trend :-)) and had twice been hit by cars while (properly!) riding my bicycle (the worst injuries came when the driver had to actually LEAVE THE ROADWAY to bash me off a shoulder *heh*). Later, in college, as a more wary bike rider, I was still struck twice by daydreaming drivers, although I saw them coming and was almost able to avoid them, resulting in only minor injuries–bruising and whatnot.

That I am not comfortable with heights probably helped me I avoid falls while free climbing during my college years. BY “free climbing” here, I mean I was wearing street clothes every time. Sneakers, jeans, etc. No falls, because b y that time I had learned some of my limits and when to push them, and practiced what safety measures I could.

Now, what did I see today that spurred these thoughts? A father pushing a tandem stroller (with the expected two kids) down a narrow street, moving WITH the traffic. I see this a lot around here, though. Folks walking–and often pushing strollers–down a highway that goes through town, a highway that is as narrow as legally allowed and is traveled by a great deal of 18-wheeler (and other) traffic. . . and, from my limited observations (I can’t set up an observation post and man it 24×7), most of the 18-wheel traffic speeds through town and much of it minds the lanes about as carefully as Bill Clinton observed proper behavior in the White House. Just sayin’. It has NO shoulder and NO sidewalk. And yet people walk down the highway assuming they are immune to stupid drivers approaching them from the rear.

The second “street rule” I learned as a kid (the first was the Stop, Look BOTH WAYS, and Listen before crossing ANY street) was “Whenever there is no sidewalk, walk AGAINST traffic”–so you can see what’s coming. It’s common sense that is very, very UNcommon nowadays, from what I see. Nope. Apparently, people just assume they are invincible and DO NOT THINK. (They don’t have to. After all, it’s everyone ELSE’s responsibility to look after THEIR welfare, isn’t it?)

Of course, timidity is another stupid problem fostered by a “rubber bumper” society, but detailing even one example of that would make a too long post even “too longer”. *heh* Just take it as given that I could list many, many other behaviors I witness daily indicating that folks are either too stupid to use ordinary,common sense safety measures or too stupid to take action when nothing dangerous threatens (Common around here: “COME ON! IT SHOULDN’T TAKE 5 MINUTES TO MAKE A SIMPLE RIGHT HAND TURN! Sure, there’s a bar ditch on the right and ya should avoid “ditching” your car, but COME ON! MAKE THE FRIGGIN’ TURN ALREADY!” *heh*).

Scairdy Cats and The Invincibles (Legends in Their Own Minds)–sometimes even in the same persons! It’s enough to drive one to despair. How can our society survive these weenies?

*sigh* I Just Hate This [Stuff]

Oh, Shiite.

Just had a call from someone whose computer I cleaned a month ago. They have re-infected themselves. Key question: “Are you still using Internet Exploder instead of the browser I installed and configured for you?”

“Yes.”

I wanted to say, “Here’s your sign.”

*gagamaggot*

Why do folks ask me for help and then ignore my counsel and expect things to turn out differently next time? This will be the THIRD time for this guy to have infected himself with THE SAME THING via the SAME VECTOR using the SAME BROWSER while ignoring the practices and tools I installed and counseled him on to prevent such a thing.

Why do they do these things? Self-induced stupidity and “helplessness” I suppose. (I use here a definition of stupidity articulating a stubborn refusal to learn or change one’s self-destructive behaviors. . . when learning is clearly within the individual’s capabilities.)

Bustin’ Chops, venting gently this time

Bustin’ cops lightly… this time.

Recall our new neighbors? Well, today I had a short lunchtime, cos I spent some of it cutting short a noon meeting of the Stoned Road Druggies (no affirmative proof, but they meet several of the behavioral/environmental criteria for activity surrounding a meth lab *sigh*).

Yeh, twelve vehicles parked on (and nearly on) their property at noon. One left. Loudly. (These guys seem to think that if ya drill out a muffler the vehicle will run soooo much better.) Another backed up to repark. Backed up right on our lawn… as I was watching. I hollered to stop him, and to his credit he did, then pulled on forward and parked it where it’d been before he started backing.

Words ensued. I called the cops. As I was counting vehicles (and TPT*/maybe likely druggies) and relating license tags to the cops over the phone, they began leaving. With more “words” and a few cute threats to “donut” my lawn.

Let ’em come. License tags, bubbas.

Dumbasses.

*TPT=Trailer Park Trash

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