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.
Joseph Henry Green (1791-1863), an English surgeon who became the literary executor of Samuel Taylor Coleridge. The word was spoken upon checking his own pulse.
Joseph Henry Green, a surgeon and professor of anatomy, suffered from inherited gout and died of an acute seizure at his house in 1863.
An account of his final moments has been given by Sir John Simon:
“I would show that not even the last sudden agony of death ruffled his serenity of mind, or rendered him unthoughtful of others. No terrors, no selfish regrets, no reproachful memories, were there. The few tender parting words which he had yet to speak, he spoke. And to the servants who had gathered grieving round him, he said, ‘While I have breath, let me thank you all for your kindness and attention to me’.
Next, to his doctor, who quickly entered – his neighbour and old pupil, Mr. Carter – he significantly, and pointing to the region of his heart, said – ‘congestion’. After which, he in silence set his finger to his wrist, and visibly noted to himself the successive feeble pulses which were but just between him and death. Presently he said – ‘stopped’. And this was the very end. It was as if even to die were an act of his own grand self-government. For at once, with the warning word still scarce beyond his lips, suddenly the stately head drooped aside, passive and defunct for ever. And then, to the loving eyes that watched him, ‘his face was again all young and beautiful’. The bodily heart, it is true, had become more pulseless clay; broken was the pitcher at the fountain, broken at the cistern the wheel; but, for yet a moment amid the nightfall, the pure spiritual life could be discerned, moulding for the last time into conformity with itself the features which thenceforth were for the tomb.”
You have to admire someone who takes his own pulse and pronounces himself dead. Now that’s cool.
Somewhere around the time that "new math" became an educational fad, "whole word" reading was developed. Like New Math, the reasons for a new method were never made clear because everybody had been learning to read just fine with "phonics," otherwise known as "sounding it out."
We're in another era now. Now, there is "New, new math" from Common Core that nobody can understand. Supposedly it's meant to offer a deeper understanding of numbers. There is no more plain long division even though that old division sign was a great tool.
Will the government education machine finally accept that phonics is the easiest way to read? K–12: Phonics Is Winning
Audubon had a great time in the USA. A hero of mine. He was a fine diarist too. He also became a heck of a shot. What many do not know is that one reason his bird images are often in awkward positions is that he generally painted them from specimens he had shot.
As an aside, Roger Tory Peterson's prints are excellent too. Audubon was, of course, an inspiration to him. No dead birds.
I avoid podcasts mostly, but Scott Adams' daily podcasts are a hoot.
He is not a Conservative, more of a free-thinker (claims to be a Bernie guy) who does the news and loves to think outside the box. Engaging fellow, smarter than me, and relentlessly happy. Here's today's. He might become a daily habit for me because he lights up my brain with cleverness and humor. Can find humor in anything, which is a good attitude.
Too bad he's on California time, because he'd be good with my morning coffees.
I know that few of our fitness buff readers follow the Maggie's excellent fitness protocol, but that's fine. Whatever makes ya miserable and stressed while doing, but glad you did afterwards.
(Readers know, ad nauseum, that we recommend 2 days of heavy weights, 2 days of pure cardio, 2 days of calisthenics, and a day of some recreational sports or hiking, etc. We feel road-running is hell on joints.)
Gotta move, every day, with effort. Alternative is decay. Just our opinion, though.
My "cardio"- dedicated days (about 2-2 1/2 hrs/wk) include random mixtures of HIIT and "long, slow" recovery. To avoid boredom, I mix it up a lot with elliptical, treadmill runs, jump rope, rower sprints, stair machine, etc. The episodic intensity is what makes it all time-effective. I do not swim because pools gross me out.
( For an unnecessary reminder, Cardio means stressing the heck out of heart muscle, enough to force it to strengthen, to grow new blood vessels, and thus to increase vigor and to help survive the first heart attack. Also for general endurance.)
Anyway, I'm interested in knowing what readers do for the pure cardio component of their fitness efforts.
It's a peculiar topic, best addressed in specifics rather than in generalities. Specific acquired skills and developed talents. It's not too difficult to measure their value. Can you play world-class violin? Can you frame a shed that will not fall down? Can you make a route over a mountain from point A to point B? Can you help an autistic child behave in a civil manner? Can you hit a fastball? Most adults become pretty good at assessing the obvious merits (and flaws) of others. For less evident skills, an oral exam or written exam or performance exam vets out specific merits pretty well. Especially logic and math.
We want bridges that will not collapse, and there is nothing easy at all about that. Yet, our elites happily drive over those bridges with any clue about how they came to be.
Politics is not my beat, but on a rare perusal of The New York Times today (dental office), I could not help but be struck by how the winds blow down there at their headquarters. If Trump is for it, they're against it from the news slants to the opinion (today, Trump is an existential threat to the Republic)..
Even when Dems were for something just a few years ago in Obama times. Suddenly, the NYT and the Dems have pivoted towards hawkish in the Middle East. Suddenly, illegal immigration is desirable. Israel is now evil. Our energy independence is bad. And so on. You can fill in further examples in our comments. Here's the guiding principle, as best as I can tell:
Pic from of MAGA Caffeteria from my urban hike around Ostia outside Rome.
"Ostia" is the mouth, the area of the old Roman port. About 25 minutes from the airport, 20 by ambulance.
No foreigners visit Ostia. It's a Roman middle-class and working-class suburb south of Rome on one of the commuter trains. Its 3 miles of beach on the Med (The Lido) attract less-wealthy Romans in summer for beach getaways. It has a half-mile of spartan hotels, one of which I stayed in (Hotel Bellavista) for 5 days while Mrs. BD was in Ospidale Grassi about a 30-minute walk from my hotel. No fluffy towels.
This was an accidental visit by this accidental tourist. (Mrs. BD fainted on the plane to Rome - face plant - and fractured some facial bones. Dangerous to her eye, and she looked by post-car crash.) While stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues, I did spend one day hiking Ostia and getting lost and hiking the beach with my trousers rolled up like T S Eliot, took the train to Rome to urban hike one day, took train to Ostia Antica (do not miss that visit when near Rome) and had a wonderful day there until it closed.
So before I post some photos of Ostia Antica later (a truly magnificent ruin of a Roman port city, just 3 train stops from Ostia, an hour from Rome) I thought I'd post some fun observations about some aspects of the real, non-tourist Italy. Remember, Rome is sort-of on the edge of northern and southern Italy, and a blend of both cultures but more southern than northern. I've been to Rome several times. Once is enuf in my view. Fun stuff below the fold (BTW, Mrs. BD is just fine now)
One of the books I am reading now: Leon Uris' Trinity (1976). It's a novelized visit to a sorrowful piece Irish history, and so well-done that it's difficult to imagine that Uris was not Irish.
That potato fungus, and its consequences, killed or drove away over 1 million Irish. The book puts you there. Mrs. BD is half-Irish, and tells me "Stop" when I read sections to her. Mostly the Catholic peasants had the worst time. They were sharecroppers, peasants. The Scots Presbyterians and the Brit Anglican overlords did somewhat better, at the expense of the sharecroppers. It is heartbreaking.
Lucky thousands made it to Canada and the US. Luckily for the US and Canada. The Brits were no heroes of the history, but they were stuck with the tragedy too. It was complicated, like all such things.
Photo: The Leonardo sculpture
"To lengthen the life, lessen the meals." 
Horror Films
I know that few of our fitness buff readers follow the Maggie's excellent fitness protocol, but that's fine. Whatever makes ya miserable and stressed while doing, but glad you did afterwards.
Scientists 'may have crossed ethical line
Photo: Lobby floral displays this week at the Met Museum. Some rich lady endowed their flowers, years ago and they are always worth atthention. 
