We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
The elites believe they should run my life, and the dependents want my stuff. As it is, governments take 42% of what money I make. I guess in a way I am a serf, or a tenant farmer. I don't mind paying taxes, but it never seems to be enough for them.
“We’re looking at the destruction of the Constitution of the United States” – 2020 front runner for Democrat nomination to the Presidency, Sen Kamala Harris
If so much hangs on the appointment of a single person to the Supreme Court that it matters more than almost anything else in our politics, then maybe the Supreme Court matters too much. In a healthier republic, it would matter less.
Backroads is a bit pricey, but they are excellent. The Dolomites—A Peak Experience in Italy & Austria. We've hiked quite a bit up there, but the bike trip sounds very cool if you're in shape for hill biking.
This has been a banner year for the Eastern Chipmunk around my place and everywhere I go. I love these little buggers.
Sure, they take bites of out my tomatoes (for the water, I suspect). I don't mind much. If you have stone walls, log piles, and brushy areas, they will build their tunnels. It seems like their main enemies are house cats, Black Snakes, and weasels. Since we have no roaming house cats these days (thank goodness), our friendly little chipmunks are having a good year.
At this time of year, there are plenty of young ones too. They are innocent, do not seem careful enough about life.
A friend of mine sits on his front porch in the evening with a whisky and a cigar, and feeds them his walnuts from his hand.
6:1 He left that place and came to his hometown, and his disciples followed him.
6:2 On the sabbath he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astounded. They said, "Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him? What deeds of power are being done by his hands!
6:3 Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us?" And they took offense at him.
6:4 Then Jesus said to them, "Prophets are not without honor, except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house."
6:5 And he could do no deed of power there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them.
6:6 And he was amazed at their unbelief. Then he went about among the villages teaching.
6:7 He called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits.
6:8 He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts;
6:9 but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics.
6:10 He said to them, "Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place.
6:11 If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them."
6:12 So they went out and proclaimed that all should repent.
London Broil (nothing to do with London, it seems) is a cut of top round. Inexpensive but very tasty hunk of cow. It is often recommended that it be marinated for hours. That's fine, but not really necessary. All you need to do is to coat it heavily with salt and pepper, and maybe a steak rub, and throw it in a full-heat frying pan. Three- five minutes on each side depending on its thickness. A good black crust on it.
Let it rest 5-10 minutes, then slice against the grain, on a very sloping angle, as thin as you can with a good knife.
While the meat is resting, throw some thick onion slices into the grease and oil and brown them. Maybe a few mushrooms too. Toss them on top of your slices, cut up a tomato, and dinner is served.
In the photo, I feel even those slices are too thick- and not on enough of an angle either. When I say thin, I mean thin. Too thick slices can be like chewing gum. Very thin slices are great. Takes a good knife and a good knife-handler.
If America Is So Bad, Why Do They Keep Coming Here? To listen to open-borders advocates, left-wing journalists and Democrats in Congress, the U.S. is a hellhole of misery and bigotry
A song often considered to be a sign of maturity in a young Bob Dylan. "I realized I became my own enemy in the instant that I preached..." The discovery of humility, or something.
A QQQ on religious-like faith in government to cure all ills, via Cafe Hayek.Herbert Spencer, 1853
"Though we have ceased to assume the infallibility of our theological beliefs and so ceased to enact them, we have not ceased to enact hosts of other beliefs of an equally doubtful kind. Though we no longer presume to coerce men for their spiritual good, we still think ourselves called upon to coerce them for their material good: not seeing that the one is as useless and as unwarrantable as the other. Innumerable failures seem, so far, powerless to teach this. Take up a daily paper and you will probably find a leader exposing the corruption, negligence, or mismanagement of some State department. Cast your eye down the next column, and it is not unlikely that you will read proposals for an extension of State-supervision. Yesterday came a charge of gross carelessness against the Colonial Office. Today Admiralty bunglings are burlesqued. Tomorrow brings the question, “Should there not be more coal-mine inspectors?” Now there is a complaint that the Board of Health is useless; and now an outcry for more railway regulation. While your ears are still ringing with denunciations of Chancery abuses, or your cheeks still glowing with indignation at some well-exposed iniquity of the Ecclesiastical Courts, you suddenly come upon suggestions for organizing “a priesthood of science.” Here is a vehement condemnation of the police for stupidly allowing sight-seers to crush each other to death. You look for the corollary that official regulation is not to be trusted; when, instead, à propos of a shipwreck, you read an urgent demand for government-inspectors to see that ships always have their boats ready for launching. Thus, while every day chronicles a failure, there every day reappears the belief that it needs but an Act of Parliament and a staff of officers to effect any end desired. Nowhere is the perennial faith of mankind better seen."
Whether you are doing an hour of weights, calis, or HIIT cardio, I think most of us ordinary exercisers reach the point in a given effort when something says "OK, I'm done," but a better voice says (in my case) "Don't be a pussy - push through and do more." I find that self-insults work well for me, as do either insults or encouragement from others.
Distance runners talk about hitting "the wall," but persisting through the wall and finding more energy on the other side. These experiences are both mental and physiological, having to do with the energy sources your muscles or your heart are using and the amount of power your body can enlist.
Yesterday I did elliptical semi-HIIT, semi-long slow on the elliptical (because Wimbledon) on TV. When I do this on elliptical (always using arms too to make it full-body) I do 30-second sprints with 60-second slows, or for variety, I will keep a steady RPM pace while upping the resistance from 1 to 10, increasing every minute and then dropping back down the same way.
After 35 minutes of low-resistance 30-second sprints, I was done. Or thought I was. I called myself a wimp, took a minute slow on level 1, and then got right back in the game to complete the hour going up and down the resistance levels. I have similar experiences in my calis classes.
On the other hand, we all have real limits and it is amusing and educational to confront them in regular life and in physical exertion. Well, depressing too. All we have to do is to check whether it is a real limit or a mental determination speed bump.
On my 5th set of deads this morning (increasing weight and decreasing reps for each set) I found I could not get 3 reps at 245. Genius trainer said "Quick, reset your grip and go again." I think I engaged all my will and force but the goddam thing felt glued to the floor. With a minute's rest, I could have done the third, but that's not the way it works. For you strong guys and gals, this would not be too difficult but I am not you. A fit, skinny, no-bulk gal I know does 3 reps of 300. She is only 35, though.
I think it was a true physical limit at that point in my dead routine, because I engage everything so as not to disappoint my trainer's expectations and demands. However, for that moment, I am fairly confident that I was done. Sucks to disappoint a mentor.
When I think about it, I most frequently encounter genuine limits in jump rope and in pull-ups. Also, the sprints on the combat bike. Even the f-word just doesn't help at all.
I wonder how our readers feel when things go from manageable to tough to hard to painful to walls to breakthoughs to actually confronting real limitations.
This has been a banner year for the 
Burgers etc are great on charcoal. Cuts of beef, not so much in my opinion. 
Whether you are doing an hour of weights, calis, or HIIT cardio, I think most of us ordinary exercisers reach the point in a given effort when something says "OK, I'm done," but a better voice says (in my case) "Don't be a pussy - push through and do more." I find that self-insults work well for me, as do either insults or encouragement from others.