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.
"Those who inherited the leadership of the Civil Rights movement looked deep into the content of their character...and decided they'd best be judged by the color of their skin or they were in trouble."
A public school is a really expensive, but shabby and ineffectual, private school that collects their tuition with the threat of eviction from your house.
The assumption that historical processes align with a forward motion, that the liberalization of a society moves it forward, are so innate that it goes unquestioned. It is why democracy is held to be a good, entirely apart from its outcome. Even if democratic elections lead to a takeover by a junta of fanatical cannibals, the very act of holding an election moves a society forward through one hoop in the great circus of historical processes. The immediate result may be cannibalism, but in the long run, as Arab Spring advocates remind us from the editorial pages, the society moves forward.
The liberal understanding of history made it impossible to see the Muslim Brotherhood for what it was because its victory did not fit the march of progress. The victory of the Muslim Brotherhood in a democratic election meant that it was progressive. Because that is how the forward motion of history is meant to work. And its overthrow had to be considered reactionary, regardless of the issues...
Here at Maggie's Farm, where we use tractors and fossil fuel and the internet, we nonetheless tend to view the notion of "progress" as a false idol.
Seen on the street in NYC yesterday while delivering some necessary spare furniture to youngest daughter's new apartment in NYC. Three roommates, all of whom have been pals since grade school. I have known them since they were kids. They made an apartment compact - a Pilgrim Compact - designed to maintain harmony and to not damage their life-long relationships while sharing a miniscule apartment.
How cool is that? Who would not want to be young, beautiful (or handsome), talented, fancily-educated, and goal-driven in NYC today?
These three gals have plans, and they are deadly serious. We took the young BD gal out to a good brunch down the street after unloading the stuff. She took the steak half of her steak and eggs home in a doggie-bag for supper. That's being a smart youth in NYC. She only drank half of her horseradish-packed Bloody Mary but she ate the olives and the celery.
A bit of an antique now. Bought it in Telluride. As I recall, it was high-end and rather expensive at the time. It came in handy during family skiing, when the kids needed to shed clothing as the days got warmer - and as the skiing warmed them up. Dad would carry the baggage, of course. We were a skiing family. Good times. I raised some fine skiers and tennis-players, but no golfers.
I've been looking for this for months. Need it now. We still must have too much stuff if it takes months to find the good old backpack.
,,,if your idea of your marriage contract requires you to stay exciting and
interesting, then it’s like a TV show that depends on its ratings, and
eventually, no matter how many cute kids you add, murder trials you
withstand, or sharks you jump in water skis, ratings will inevitably
decline.
Richard Vedder: The Real Reason College Costs So Much - The expert on the economics of higher education
explains how subsidies fuel rising prices and why there's a 'bubble' in
student loans and college enrollment.
Obama Holding Private Bi-Sexual Conference At White House
- See
more at:
http://www.thegatewaypundit.com/2013/08/obama-holding-private-bi-sexual-conference-at-white-house/?ModPagespeed=noscript#sthash.mwt3jeMo.dpuf
A Republican, in a wheelchair, entered a restaurant one afternoon and asked the waitress for a cup of coffee. The Republican looked across the restaurant and asked, "Is that Jesus sitting over there?" The waitress nodded "yes," so the Republican requested that she give Jesus a cup of coffee, on him.
The next patron to come in was a Libertarian, with a hunched back . He shuffled over to a booth, painfully sat down, and asked the waitress for a cup of hot tea. He also glanced across the restaurant and asked, "Is that Jesus, over there?" The waitress nodded, so the Libertarian asked her to give Jesus a cup of hot tea, "My treat."
The third patron to come into the restaurant was a Democrat on crutches. He hobbled over to a booth, sat down, and hollered, "Hey there honey! How's about getting me a cold mug of Miller Light?" He too looked across the restaurant and asked, "Isn't that God's boy over there?" The waitress nodded, so the Democrat directed her to give Jesus a cold beer. "On my bill," he said loudly.
As Jesus got up to leave, he passed by the Republican, touched him, and said, "For your kindness, you are healed." The Republican felt the strength come back into his legs, got up, and began to praise the Lord. Jesus passed by the Libertarian, touched him, and said, "For your kindness, you are healed." The Libertarian felt his back straightening up, and he raised his hands, and he began to praise the Lord.
Then, Jesus walked towards the Democrat, just smiling. The Democrat jumped back and yelled, "Stand back... I'm on disability."
Some of our friends have a (volunteer, but expert) project to provide cheap and simple medical 911 systems to Third World countries. They plan to begin with Haiti and Latin America.
It's a good cause. Roll them a coin if you can, and tell friends who might be interested. It's not an app, it's a phone feature. God bless those who put their time, brains, and energy into such positive and inventive pursuits.
Few of us in the First World have any idea what it's like out there. And still people in America complain about medical care. They always will. Prosperity and the world's best medical care have turned us into babies.
A couple of years ago, Mrs. BD and I vowed to never replace a rotten piece of wood on the outside of our home - or of the Farm, for that matter - with real wood. Purists like Sipp might object, but we've had enough. Too expensive in the long run.
My father-in-law taught me this lesson, and recently re-did most of his home's exterior these ways. He is no longer thrilled with the DIY approach as he grows a little older.
Blame design, or Nature, or Entropy, or whatever. Dead wood and water do not mix. Not in Yankeeland, anyway.
In the past week, we had Anderson's custom replacement service replace 8 old custom-sized windows with their new fake, never-paint, never-chip, last-forever composite frames and good thermopane glass. Not anywhere as expensive as one might have thought, but still costly enough with all of the custom sizing. Including three casement windows. Their guys work fast, too. Did it all in one day, and put insulation in the edges of the new frames.
Any wood that rots - sills, etc. - all we will use is Azeks. If it rotted out once, it will do so again. We're gradually replacing all the dang wood columns for the pergola and the porches with custom fiberglass columns with 6X6" pressure-treated wood posts hidden inside.
These new "woods" never rot, never peel, never warp, and never need painting. Woodpeckers never peck holes in them, and wood-boring wasps leave it alone. Best thing of all: it looks like real wood.
You might say that we have been converted by maintenance cost.
13:10 Now he was teaching in one of the synagogues on the sabbath.
13:11 And just then there appeared a woman with a spirit that had crippled her for eighteen years. She was bent over and was quite unable to stand up straight.
13:12 When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, "Woman, you are set free from your ailment."
13:13 When he laid his hands on her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising God.
13:14 But the leader of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had cured on the sabbath, kept saying to the crowd, "There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured, and not on the sabbath day."
13:15 But the Lord answered him and said, "You hypocrites! Does not each of you on the sabbath untie his ox or his donkey from the manger, and lead it away to give it water?
13:16 And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long years, be set free from this bondage on the sabbath day?"
13:17 When he said this, all his opponents were put to shame; and the entire crowd was rejoicing at all the wonderful things that he was doing.
With so many miles of empty beaches, every beach in Wellfleet is as private as you want. It's easy to find a place to plant your cooler and umbrella where you cannot see another soul, swim nude if you want. Still, a private one you can stroll to is pleasant sometimes.
For starters, I need to find a new 6-V starter battery for the old Ford tractor. Then mowing, hedge-trimming, and tree-cutting.
Half of America is on holiday right now, and nobody else is in the mood for the bad news anyway.
I will throw in one link, about coffee: How to Make Perfect Coffee - The science of what makes coffee great. The article feels so effete that it could be satire, but it isn't.
AS I PASS through my incarnations in every age and race, I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market Place. Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall, And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.
We were living in trees when they met us. They showed us each in turn That Water would certainly wet us, as Fire would certainly burn: But we found them lacking in Uplift, Vision and Breadth of Mind, So we left them to teach the Gorillas while we followed the March of Mankind.
We moved as the Spirit listed. They never altered their pace, Being neither cloud nor wind-borne like the Gods of the Market Place, But they always caught up with our progress, and presently word would come That a tribe had been wiped off its icefield, or the lights had gone out in Rome.
With the Hopes that our World is built on they were utterly out of touch, They denied that the Moon was Stilton; they denied she was even Dutch; They denied that Wishes were Horses; they denied that a Pig had Wings; So we worshipped the Gods of the Market Who promised these beautiful things.
When the Cambrian measures were forming, They promised perpetual peace. They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of the tribes would cease. But when we disarmed They sold us and delivered us bound to our foe, And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "Stick to the Devil you know."
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."
In the Carboniferous Epoch we were promised abundance for all, By robbing selected Peter to pay for collective Paul; But, though we had plenty of money, there was nothing our money could buy, And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "If you don't work you die."
Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smooth-tongued wizards withdrew And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to believe it was true That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four And the Gods of the Copybook Headings limped up to explain it once more.
As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man There are only four things certain since Social Progress began. That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire, And the burnt Fool's bandaged finger goes wobbling back to the Fire;
And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins, As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn, The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!
A daughter and her (seemingly) true love are heading off for ten days in Japan tonight. This daughter been to lots of places in the world, but never Asia. (I have never been further east than Turkey, and have no desire for further.)
She emailed me and asked whether I had any travel advice for Japan. I told her all I know: "Omakase." It means that you want the sushi chef to surprise you with some spontaneous creations with his best stuff. I survived five years of lousy sushi, ended up calling it "bait." Now that I have found a superb relatively local joint, I am back on sushi.
As far as Italy is concerned, the way Mrs. BD and I lose weight in Italy is by sharing meals. One antipasto each for lunch, and one antipasto, one primi, and one secondi for supper to share. Lots of good tastes, lower volume. And lots of walking.
Obamacare
Officials Hire Detective Force to Go With Their Armed Tax Agents - See
more at:
http://www.thegatewaypundit.com/2013/08/feds-hire-obamacare-detective-force-to-go-with-their-armed-tax-agents/#sthash.URtmUZhH.dpuf
If a guy has had some drinks, is it OK for a gal to have sex with him just to satisfy her immediate lust? Horny women take advantage of guys every day, and nobody says a word about it.Seducing guys is the easiest thing in the world and every female knows it. Vice-versa, not so easy.
We don't have room for every single old sentimental object, Mrs. BD informs me. Furthermore, she does not want our home to "become a museum" for my family of origin. I agree with that.
So the question at hand is this: To throw out my Dad's rocking horse - or not? There is no place for it. The horse looks like it has had chemotherapy, but really it's just the result of 3 generations clinging to its mane to hold on. The ears, too.
Reminds me of Rosebud, from my Dad's favorite film.
America's Libertarian Moment - A longtime libertarian policy wonk talks about whether the
philosophy can save the GOP -- and why he still doesn't think Rand Paul
can win the presidency.
Sipp 
Too many projects to get done on the Farm today.
The Gods of the Copybook Headings (1919)