Thursday, March 22, 2018

I Wish I Lived In The 1870s

... well, sometimes I do. Pretty rarely, actually. Those times coincide with my watching of daytime TV.

Mom is staying with us while her broken neck heals. She's a Fox News girl, but has never watched daytime TV in her life. With not much else to do, she dialed it in yesterday and we watched a panel of nincompoops yell at each other over trivial issues. A few years back, when my son was healing from a broken neck, he would watch ESPN daytime which featured panels of nincompoops yelling at each other over trivial sports issues.

Both news and sports yelling sessions typically devolve into racial and gender issues pretty quickly. Horrible. Simply horrible.

The thing that jumped out at me was how unimportant the discussions were. I feel the same way about the Sunday news programs I don't watch and the rubbish on CNN and MSNBC. It's all pointless. I need to find a way to get the time to finish my MGB. I could care less whether or not Donald Trump congratulated Vladimir Putin. For some reason, that's what they think I want to see.

I wondered what it would be like if the panel consisted of farmers, mechanics and commercial fishermen discussing what they do for a living. I'd love it, but there wouldn't be all that yelling. Working men don't talk like that when they discuss their jobs.

Then I thought of what it would be like if we lived in the 1870s. All of those discussions would have been inaudible as well as irrelevant. Almost everyone lived days away from the nimrods in politics. There were limited mechanisms for interference in our lives. When we got together, we'd discuss guns, horses, beer, farming, food, clothes, kids and the opposite sex. Useful things, necessary things, important things.

We sure wouldn't be discussing Rutherford B. Hayes' tweets.

Here, Wells Fargo delivers boxes full of 280-character messages from President Hayes, William Wheeler and Samuel Randall. People can't wait to read them!

Wednesday, March 21, 2018

Tissue Paper Flower

I liked this photo. I don't know why. I left it rather large, so it might be worth a click. Enjoy!

Tuesday, March 20, 2018

Dialing Gravy 511

The inestimable Mary from Deep South Dish offered up this set of instructions to make the perfect gravy. In a nutshell, it's 5-1-1. 1 part oil plus 1 part flour to make a roux followed by 5 parts fluid to make the gravy. All done in the pan where you cooked the meat, of course.

I tried this with pan-fried pork chops and the result, even for this obliterator of gravies, was outstanding. My liquid was beef stock, store-bought, and I ended up with about a 9-1-1 ratio by the time I had added enough to scrape up the meat bits from the pan, but it was fabulous. I threw in some diced, fresh sage and thyme from my garden to add flavor.

This is what it looked like. The white in the photo is the ceiling lights reflecting off the gravy.


Monday, March 19, 2018

Make Mexico Great Again!

As a pronounceable acronym, MMGA sounds rather primitive.

Oh well.

Pondering this old post wherein it was suggested that open-borders progressives move to Mexico and become Mexican citizens, something new occurred to me.
(My open-borders progressive friends) should move to Mexico, become Mexican citizens and spend their lives working to make Mexico better.

I'm not being facetious here. I really mean it. By moving to Mexico and becoming citizens of that great country, all of their time and effort would make Mexico a better place and they would be serving the needs of poor Mexicans every hour of every day. No more half measures. Go all the way and do what you feel called to do, my brothers and sisters.
I cannot think of a single border-control conservative that would not look upon such an act with sincere admiration and support. It's how we religious fanatics feel when we talk to people who work in the missions in third-world countries. I've met some doctors who spend months at a time working in Central American hospitals. I couldn't care less about their politics, those guys are awesome.

Therein lies the slander heaped upon advocates of border control. If we hated brown-skinned people, we'd laugh at those who work in foreign lands. "Ha ha," we'd say. "You fools are wasting your time on der untermensch when you could be here in America toasting Trump in a beer hall!"

It's not race, it's citizenship.

So why the slander? If we hate each other, we'll be more likely to vote to keep the other side out of power.

Just remember, change happens when ordinary people get involved and ordinary people won't get involved without proper motivation.

Sunday, March 18, 2018

In Defense Of Teachers

Over time, thinking back on this post about the Baltimore school system and its implications, I have derived a great many conclusions. Here's a recap.
A Project Baltimore investigation has found five Baltimore City high schools and one middle school do not have a single student proficient in the state tested subjects of math and English...(The students) are essentially illiterate and unemployable...For all intents and purposes, there are no whites, asians or hispanics around them. The entire government is made up of Democrats and has been for decades...The Baltimore School District spends 50% above the national average per student.
Conservatives like to blame the teachers while progressives complain about school funding and racism. It's all nonsense. It has to be.

First off, the teachers are highly motivated to see the children succeed. Assuming that they are all venal degenerates, they are nonetheless rewarded for the kids achieving high scores on the standardized tests. Even if they were the most selfish people on Earth, they would work hard to help the children learn. Such calumny against teachers is vicious nonsense. Almost all of them get into the profession because of a natural devotion to children.

Second, the teachers are, collectively, some of the most progressive people in the country. The teachers' unions bankroll the Democrats everywhere. The Democrats, obsessed with der volk, err, people of color, would hardly be the ones trying to screw children on the basis of race.

Third, it's never been easier to learn. Unless I missed some new discoveries, there are still only 26 letters in the alphabet and ten numbers in math. Nouns and verbs continue to serve their respective purposes and, our deficit spending aside, addition and subtraction fill their same old functions. Meanwhile there are apps and programs and books and toys and libraries and websites, cleverly designed by dedicated professionals to help children learn.

How in the world do you end up with mass failure? How is it that we blame the teachers, the schools, the funding or racism?

Politics has been interesting me less and less as I stumble to the conclusion that we are all lying to ourselves as a country.
Popular culture is all Song of the South. It turns it's back on the pain and suffering of real people and instead uses them to sell a narrative to the rest of us, a narrative that isn't true at all. Without that truth, we'll never be motivated to change what is because we won't see it.
Our elites blame the teachers, the schools, money and racism because they want power. If they blamed us, instead of handing them more authority, we'd be motivated to change our behavior and improve ourselves.

And who would want that?

On the first Feminian Sandstones we were promised the Fuller Life
(Which started by loving our neighbour and ended by loving his wife)
Till our women had no more children and the men lost reason and faith,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "The Wages of Sin is Death."

As that was written by Rudyard Kipling and he was a white male, we can dismiss it without consideration.

Saturday, March 17, 2018

You Can't Want The Deal More Than The Client

Relieve Stress By Cutting Back Emotional Attachments

I'm stressed out of my gourd right now, dealing with major issues in multiple areas of my life. At work, I'm doing the job of four people. I'm experienced and fast enough to handle two jobs at a time, but at four, things are falling off the table and that's been tying my stomach in knots.

My gourd. I am not in it.
A simple solution would be to hire additional help. We have an expert available in house who is dying to work with us and is currently tasked doing menial chores, but for whatever reason*, management won't move them onto our project. To have this cheerful and ultra-competent potential coworker so close is sheer torture.

These days, my blood pressure is about double what it normally is.

My wife, who has worked in real estate for years, shared a motto she uses herself. "You can't want the deal more than the client."

The house might be just right, the price excellent and the neighborhood perfect for the buyer. The purchase ought to be a no-brainer. The sale is right there, right at your fingertips, but the buyer, for whatever reason, won't pull the trigger. You have to shrug and blow it off. Don't stay up at night, don't yell at your windshield while you drive, just let it go.

For me, if management didn't want the work to fall on the floor, they'd make that simple move. They won't. Oh well.

It doesn't solve the problem perfectly - I'm still buried. At least with this motto in mind, I can slough off some of the stress and stop trying to change things over which I have no power.

* - Subordinate lesson: Don't waste your time psychoanalyzing management. Chances are poor that you will get it right and it will do nothing but waste your time.