Category: speech

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Heisenberg May Be Red

4 August 2021

Having read a little bit of Rene Descartes and David Hume and Robert Heinlein by the time I was about fourteen, I decided I should call myself an empiricist, insofar as “atheist” and “anarchist” were probably still fightin’ words around that time, and I’ve always been terrified of confrontation.  Since then, of course, I’ve become comfortable with more radical claims. 

I made the mistake once of suggesting to an ardent Randroid that I could probably be considered an objectivist, even if not an orthodox Randian. 

He set me straight immediately.  There was no such thing as “probably an objectivist.” So I said that if an objectivist were locked in Schroedinger’s Box with a radioactive particle and a death-switch then that would certainly constitute a “probable objectivist.” 

Randroids also don’t like quantum mechanical jokes.

These comments are sponsored by The Confederate Mint (purveyors of metallic securities in gold, silver, copper, and lead).  For sample sheets of Metallic Certificates (total face value One Tenth Silver Dollar) send One Silver Dime plus a self-addressed stamped envelope; or 
Four United States Legal Tender Federal Reserve “Dollars”
in scrip, check, or money order, to Greigh Area Associates,
c/o Gene Greigh // 401 Rio Concho Drive, #105;  San Angelo, Texas;  76903

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Consequence vs Risk

17 July 2021

The very act of getting into your car and attempting to drive safely across town is to reconcile yourself to killing innocent strangers.

This illustrates the danger of confusing consequences with risks.
To amplify further, the consequence of being hit by a meteor the size of a refrigerator is total obliteration. The risk isn’t worth worrying about.

update 210815: With my vigorous immune system and with my regularly encountering various coronae, influenzae, and other viri to keep it well practiced (regulated), would the risks introduced by strange, generationally untested potions be greater than any of their alleged protections?
In my case, yes, so “vaccination” is contra-indicated.

update 210825: You can obsess over the (possible) consequences, or you can evaluate the (probable) risks.

28 August 2021 – On “Following the Science™”

Israeli researchers (at the Kahn Sagol Maccabi Research Centre and Tel Aviv University, 25 August 2021) disclose that “natural immunity” is thirteen times more effective at preventing (re)infection than is “vaccination,” and twenty-seven times more effective at mitigating the symptoms of those (re)infected.  Apparently, when encountering a novel protein, our “antibodies” will adjust their own chemistry to fight it off, and even remember it for months or years after.  For some of us, our “immune systems” may over-react to certain otherwise innocuous proteins, and we will present with “allergies” — to pollen, to peanuts, to beestings, or to dander. 

Elsewhen and elsewhere, a study of over 7000 blood samples from the American Red Cross found evidence of Wuhan Flu™ antibodies in over a hundred specimens taken as early as 13 December 2019. Meanwhile, my work schedule finds me at The Vectory™ (aka The QuikkStopp-by-the-Interstate™) located conveniently just an hour from The Big Airport.  This puts me less than twenty-four hours away from just about anywhere on Earth.  I took sick on the 24th of December and did not recover until the Tenth Day of Christmas.  At the time I thought it was just my biennial flu coming back to recharge my immune system.  It hung on for a little longer than average, but otherwise I had no reason to suspect it was anything other than another influenza or corona or rhino virus.  I had the typical respiratory and inflammatory symptoms – headache, congestion, body ache, low grade fever and nausea, and compromised senses of taste and smell.  All fairly typical (even if uncommon) for me, and I didn’t think much of it other than its being its usual drag.

Getting better, as I usually do, and continuing to work regularly, I felt fine for the next almost nine months until I was finally canned for my stubborn masklessness.  Somehow, I had managed to survive nine months of plague without dipping myself daily in Purell® or muzzling up and cowering every time a strange customer (masked or not) walked into the shop. 

210828, correspondent JP “almost died from a DT vaccine in 1989. Left me seriously ill for over a year. After that I was allergic to things I had never been allergic to –peanuts, strawberries — and I could not be outside for any length of time, [or I’d] get sick from allergies. Took almost 3 years for those problems to go away, never have tried peanuts again though.” JP‘s vaccination experience may be an extraordinary and unusual case, but it is still illustrative of the dangers of unnecessarily compromising our immune systems. Sometimes the risk is worth it, and sometimes not. Proceed with caution and, above all in matters medical, your mileage may vary.

9 September 2021 —  Inverting the Burden
Many theists, statists, maskerati, and other committed faddists embrace a common logical fallacy. 
Often, during rhetorical exchanges, I am challenged to:
“Prove that there’s no god.”   
“Prove that anarchy is utopian.”  
“Prove that Wuhan Flu™ is not dangerous.”  
“Prove that masks don’t work.”

Of course I cannot, nor would I bother to attempt such a silly exercise.  In logical discourse, the burden of proof is always on the affirmative proposition.  While the prospect of “no god” may strike many believers as a positively ridiculous notion, it is still a claim of a negative condition, just as are “no state” or “no danger” or “no mask.” I’ve yet to hear an affirmative argument that convinces me that fresh air, anti-viral ultraviolet radiation, proper nutrition, good rest, and happy thoughts are more dangerous to my health than bacteria-laden moist facial diapers restricting my airway and compromising social intercourse.

15 August 2022
I’m still selling cigarettes to fat people at the QuikkStopp™ who are wearing their obedience masks.
Because they’re concerned about their health.
Fat people.
Buying cigarettes.
Wearing masks. On their chins.
For their health.

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Transtrendyrism™

6 July 2017

I don’t make a great deal of the alleged “transgender anomaly” running through our bloodline (according to my son, who wonders about a possible genetic component.) When the fifteen year old grandniece declared that “last year” she had “definitely” been a lesbian, and now was “definitely a boy”. I concluded that she was definitely fifteen.

I was naturally relieved to learn of the fourteen year old grandniece’s safe return, and not terribly surprised to learn of her current re-identification. If she prefers “Ky” (or, original Greek spelling: “X”) to the perceived abomination that her parents tried tagging her with, well, I can certainly relate to that.

I was surprised when son informed me that sixteen year old grandniece had also hopped aboard the trendy new trans trolley. She had previously struck me as being rather affirmatively and comfortably feminine. But, it’s her call, I guess.

I reckon adolescents likely know themselves well enough to decide these things, but…

My own grandson, apparently now “identifies as female.” Sadly, this doesn’t surprise me all that much. Early reports had him a rambunctious force of nature, bounding through life with boyish vigor.

But boyish vigor is an unpopular commodity these days. We are living in a culture that celebrates and glorifies womanhood, exalts victimhood, and denigrates patriarchy, rape culture, and well, boyish vigor. Boyish energy is so unwelcome at the government schools that many offenders are tranked into ambulatory somnolence lest they offend the sacred order.

And of course, the lad has an assertive older sister. And parents who are deeply steeped in Leftie Culture. (Girls are cool! Girls are powerful! Toxic masculinity! Pay gap! Misogynist in the White House! Love Trumps Hate! Trans is trendy!) We are pack animals, after all, and popular opinion will usually win out, as most of us are eager to be one of the cool kids.

So, summing up: Instant granddaughter.
Or, not so fast. These issues will either be grown out of or grown into

I will ever endeavor to attend to the preferred proper nouns that people pick out for themselves, so long as they seem to be taking themselves seriously. But until jobs are secured, money is spent, and surgeries are performed, or other commensurate commitments are demonstrated, I’m going to stick with the pronouns that I’ve been using.

update 201119:  this writer goes into greater detail on the boring technical details

https://aberrosexualism.blogspot.com/2014/03/normal-0-21-false-false-false-en-us-x.html?m=1

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‘Merica’s Spankin’

8 June 1967

Oy, Gevalt!  Such a schmeck they have given us! 

Those goyim houseboys, Lyin’ Lyndon Johnson and Dandy Dean Rusk, no great mensches either one, got their tuchases tapped by their Zionist masters on June 8th of 1967, when Israeli “Defense” Forces attacked the USS Liberty as it presumed to sail through international waters, thereby killing thirty-four American Seamen.

They couldn’t just send a nice brisket and matzah instead?

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The Arcs of Acquiescence

1 June 2021

If you watch the sheeple defending their masters’ orthodoxies for a few decades, you’re apt to notice some patterns emerging.  Even when armed with mountains of evidence and unassailable reason, the responses are predictable. 

It starts:  “You’re crazy!  That’s impossible!  You’re making that up!  You’ll believe anything that Tjump (or I’ll-bomb-ya) says!  If I’ll-bomb-ya (or Tjump, or one of his toadies) says it, it can’t possibly be true.”

As the evidence adds up and the façade cracks, it evolves:  “Sure, it may be possible, but Dr Nozitol™ says it isn’t.  What do you know about it?  Are you a doctor (or structural engineer, or economist, or tax collector or other criminal)?  Okeh, maybe it’s feasible, but it’s still a stretch, and Dr Nozitol™ still says…”

Once the lie becomes unsustainable, and their masters move on to new crimes, the bleats begin to yield to the yawns:  “So what?  That’s old news, time to move on.  Everybody knows that.” 
And finally:  “Yeah?  So?  I knew that all along.”

correspondent BV (not Lee) wonders: what is it that bothers the anti maskers so much about Maskers masking themselves? So much hate toward them from the “We are the REAL HEROES for REFUSING to wear masks” crowd…..
correspondent SW wonders what BV is talking about.

And I wonder… Who are these “anti maskers?”
I may not golf but I’m not anti golfing.
And I generally don’t consider myself to be particularly heroic, either (I joined the Air Force, after all), even if my refusal to endure the vertical waterboarding did cost me my job. Some might consider my present masklessness more foolish than heroic, and as a certified coward (see USAF, above) I’m not about to dispute that, either.
I’m not “bothered” by people wearing masks, though I am often frustrated, as they are denying me potentially useful non-verbal information.
But that’s their prerogative.
Besides, I don’t know their personal histories. They may be as well motivated to mask up as I was in order to meet my preemie baby in the neo-natal ICU, or as I might be in order to protect my frail ol’ Granny.
I certainly don’t object to “them” the way some have objected to me.

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On Plenary Theory

11 April 2021

“Universe” is an awkward and unfortunate word in cosmological discourse. The universe is everything.

What we generally think of as “our universe” is a discreet plenum with physical constraints, and the mathematical models that best describe what we know about our plenum suggest that the “greater universe” is filled with many such plena with similar or differing constraints.

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Rhetorical Hammers

“Yeah?  Well I’ll see your ‘Pallets-of-Cash’
and raise you ‘January 6th’!”

10 May 2021

It’s easy to tell the difference between liberals and leftists, and between libertarians and conservatives.  Just listen to their rhetoric.  Leftists are collectivists and conservatives are followers, whereas liberals often believe in free money, but are otherwise mostly okeh.  Most conservatives are also collectivists, though they like to think they’re not, and more liberals (and even many “libertarians”) are as well.  In fact, conservatives have been conserving leftist gains ever since they lined up behind Woodrow Wilson’s Democrat War to End all Freedom (and you may take your pick whether I mean the actual literal War, or the Income Tax, or the F’eral Reserve™).

“Nine Eleven” seems to have lost a little of its heft,
but “Pallets of Cash” and “January 6th” remain handy rhetorical hammers.  Leftists and conservatives are both generally lacking in imagination (Ofuomh, mmup dfvuj “Cantancerie 101” leg rjiveem og’aen, djolargu djogossit quk fx’dupd, “mwmu” iuf DEJ tit wiq, kej) so they quickly run out of actual reasoning.  There are other, more substantial differences between the ideologically grounded and the more common variety of faddist activist, but one of the first and most obvious one is their ready use of popular shiboleths like “patriarchy” or “Kumbaya.”

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Following Up

7 May 1993

possibly overheard at The Chinese Person’s, after the show:
“Engineering?  Really?”
Yeah, and Physics.  College was a blast!
“And you’re working at a hotel.”
Ah-huh.
“Why?”
Safeway demands money for groceries.
“Well, yeah!  Of course, but… I mean, with your degrees…”
I tried that.  They wouldn’t have me.
“Who did you try?”
NASA, Northrup, Boeing, Grumman…
“Anyone else?”
Oh yeah, lots, but I don’t carry the list with me.  Aircraft and rocketry firms all over North America, and lots of local manufactories, too.  A few tried me out, but I guess the word got around.
“What word?”
I have no clue, otherwise I’d have tried the counter-spell.  But after the temp jobs dried up, every other application came back saying I don’t meet their present needs, but they’ll keep me in mind.
“You ever follow up?”
What do you mean?
“Apply again.  See if they change their mind.”
Of course not.  They saw my resume.  It hasn’t changed significantly. They said they didn’t need me.  They said they’ll contact me when that changes.  If they meant it, that means they don’t need me, or they’ll contact me later.  Why should I pester them after that?  That would be rude.  And if they didn’t mean it, then that means they’re lying scumbags, and therefore unworthy of me.
*** awkward pause ***
“Maybe they just don’t like assholes.”
That’s probably it.  Who wants an intelligent asshole on the job when you can get a team player who knows his Beavers from his Ducks?

update 210507:  The Chinaman’s was a small family restaurant featuring predictable cuisine located a little down the coast from the little theatre along Deacon County’s Miracle Miles whose actual name I forget.  It was a popular gathering spot for the post rehearsal set and when we were upbraided for the “racist” tone of “The Chinaman’s” many of us conceded to paleolithic (1993) political correctness.  I tried to make it a point to refer to it thereafter by its actual commercial name, but decades past, I still can’t dredge that up, and I apparently didn’t write it down.
It has occurred to me, a little late perhaps, that parties unnamed might infer additional offense, even though nowhere do I make reference to middle management martinets, nor coaching broadly. And yet…

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Adventures in Bad Lyrics, vol. I

8 August 2015 – “Do you you feel like I do” that in “this ever changing world in which we live in” that Peter Frampton and Paul McCartney may well be the worst lyricists in the history of getting paid for it? Mick Jones comes close.

“Viva Agora,” says I, and “Hear hear!” and “Tell it, brother!” Maybe I’m a little too sensitive to bad lyrics, as they can interfere with my appreciation of otherwise enjoyable tunes. This is why I am most grateful currently to Choice Inns and their advertisers’ recent co-option of the formerly execrable “Shall I Snivel or Shall I Moan?”. A plaintive lament that not only misses the obvious point, and therefore asks the wrong question, but asks it over and over and over. (C’mon Mick, think this one through. If you left there would be trouble. If you stayed it would be double. ARITHMETIC HAS SOLVED YOUR PROBLEM!) I would (and still do) cringe whenever it comes out of public audio. Now, however, when I hear that “Class reunion’s coming fast” while indulging in mindless video, I actually attend and enjoy. So again I say, “Viva Agora!” (and “Please John, help Paul with his lyrics.”)

2 February 2018 — Long time side hustle — delivering groceries and sundries to shut ins and the infirm. Had a bit of a scare last year. Loyal clients, Lena and Percival (Do NOT call him “Percy”) Whitney, reported that Whit had lip cancer, allegedly from his years of “dippin’ chew.” He’s outta the woods now, minus that tumor, parts of his lip and jaw, and four teeth. But otherwise cancer free. Now my quandary: Whit’s renewed his customary order, two logs a week, long cut, straight (“tobacco flavored!”), but Lena’s giving me grief over “enabling him.”
Look, he’s expecting delivery on his front deck tomorrow morning,
so you tell me:
Al-though… His wife… Wants him to quit,
Should I leave Whit chew? …
update 190716:  “That’s why I got chew on my my eend!”

5 February 2018
I’ve been struggling to make this song sound right.
But every thing I scrawl is tiresome, weak, and trite.
Perhaps it’s time to quit, and maybe say “Good night.”
Then I’ll revisit this in the morning light.
How many lines do you think I should end with “you?”
Do you think that ten is a bit too few?
Should I check my thesaurus and find a clue?
Or scrap this mess and start anew?
What’s a lad to do, when nothing rhymes with “you?”
It’s a task I rue, ‘cause nothin’ rhymes with “you.”

3 March 2018 — Los Angeles is clearly both a discotecque and a country club.
Furthermore, four out of five happy shiny people are holding other happy shiny people. One of them is holding a happy shiny person holding hands, and that one is holding nothing but hands.
And now that we’ve got that straight, is it the “hippy hippy shake”
or the “hippy shake shake?”

“Adventures in Bad Lyrics” is sponsored by The Confederate Mint (purveyors of metallic securities in gold, silver, copper, and lead).  For sample sheets of Metallic Certificates (total face value One Tenth Silver Dollar) send One Silver Dime plus a self-addressed stamped envelope; or Four United States Legal Tender Federal Reserve “Dollars” in scrip, check, or money order, to Greigh Area Associates, c/o Gene Greigh //  401 Rio Concho Drive, #105;  San Angelo, Texas;  76903

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“But I Was Just Trying to Help!”

29 April 2018

Maybe.
I’m not so sure.
You certainly weren’t actually helping.

People who want to help generally help, and one of the first things they do is make sure they’re not doing the opposite of helping. And one of the last things they’ll ever do is whine about just trying to help.

People who want to appear helpful won’t do anything until someone is watching. I tend to think most of them are creepy weasels, but I get them. Getting ahead requires getting seen and you want your efforts to count for something. If they think the boss is watching and they’re helping me out then that’s good enough for me.

The most loathsome of all types are those who wish to feel helpful. They don’t care about you or the boss, they’re just mostly sad schmoes who crave validation. If you’ve ever had a child “help” you in the kitchen you get it immediately. At least with the child, you have the advantage of imparting valuable skills, so the hassle is worth it. Alleged grown-ups who blunder in and mess up your rhythm (at the least of it) and feel all good about what swell people they are are using you to masturbate.

If I don’t want to go several blocks out of my way, the last turn to get to work is a left across two lanes of traffic. It’s a busy neighborhood with about a half a dozen vendors clustered close to the Interstate, but there’s a turn lane in the middle of the street, so I’m content to wait.

Sometimes some motorist will stop in one of the oncoming lanes and gesture for me to pass in front of him. He’s often less than a block from the red light so it probably costs him nothing, and if I can see that it’s safe, I’ll cut in and smile and wave and be done with it.

However, and too often, I will not be able to see that it’s safe. There are a couple of parking lots bleeding into that right lane on busy nights, and if he’s in his left lane I can’t see through him, so I don’t always know whether it’s safe. If I’m T-boned turning in front of traffic, I’m the one charged with failure to yield. Let alone maybe dead. Meanwhile, in this alleged super-hero’s lane, traffic is stacking up behind him and all they can see now is that green light at the intersection. So he’s not just using me to feel good about himself. Now he’s hijacked the time of all the hapless drivers behind him. Finally, he gets fed up and proceeds to exercise his right of way, but makes a point of screaming at me as he drives by because clearly I am the parasite commandeering everybody’s time.

update 230201, contra The Alleged Super-Hero and his Angry Fans, correspondent Mykpogdyf Mminx responds:  “I can see this so vividly in my mind’s eye as you describe it. And you are spot-on. In some people’s needy, soul-sucking fervor to appear virtuous, other people can get hurt. Plus, it’s straight-up cringe-worthy watching them preen and puff-up preemptively to doing ‘their good deed‘.”
 # (cross-hatched tag) whattagoodboyami