Saturday, June 23, 2018

Trump Time

Our entire country is temporarily insane.

But that's only online and on t.v.

In real life is just isn't so. These two ersatz realities do not match the reality in which we live and breath. And that's why it's good to get out and see it for what it really is.

For example, Just this instant the sounds outdoors escalated from zero to eleven. Westword (a local newspaper with office two blocks away) is hosting their music showcase. It takes the whole immediate neighborhood. (But not around them) The largest stage is the parking lot below my balcony. It's a bit annoying and a lot of fun. Half the alley is blocked by a large Coors truck, so that limits egress to the south exit from our garage. For three days, we must turn left to get out. Then when we do, a gigantic trash bin, the kind that appears at demolitions, two of them, are positioned right there on the street blocking view of oncoming traffic. It's an accident in waiting. Today the whole place will be crawling with music lovers. Young people slow walking all over the place for blocks around. Parking a major intensity. Right now they're testing amps. The little tents that you see are set up selling things nobody usually wants. Except for beer.

The ink that I bought to make beer labels is 100% dry. Nothing came out of both containers, black and colors. I need the labels tomorrow so that meant driving to Staples or Office Max to buy them again locally. And that put me right next to a Safeway grocery store in my old neighborhood where I used to go all the time. They've remodeled entirely. The whole place looks more splendid. Fruits and vegetables pouring out of the place. After marveling at the improvements I noticed they don't have shitaki mushrooms. What a bummer! I spoke to the workers there more than you usually do. I engaged each person conversationally as they assisted one way or another and to a person each one extended their usual service. Each person responded positively to simply being treated as a person and not so much as an employee. I wish you could see the very broad and genuine smiles on their faces when I told them they are helpful, that they make a good team, and so on. They are nothing at all like the people read about online and seen in videos online. These people, mostly young people but not entirely, are too busy to notice the things we concentrate on. For them politics exists as a ghost. They would have no idea what we are talking about and reading about.

I've encountered a dozen to twenty articles about the Time magazine cover. A magazine that hardly even exists. They're purposefully provocative or else they'd have no existence at all. I haven't read a single one. I avoided all articles about Democrats clamoring. I avoided all articles about Never Trumpers clamoring for attention. I know what they said and wrote by the headlines and my bag of fucks to give is empty. Nil set. So headline after headline after headline, skip, skip, skip. No reading for me. All my bookmarks are worthless presently.

Meanwhile my president is sailing. And media is going insane. Celebrities are coming unglued. Activists are energized over nothing, over their losing, over their desperation, they're creating insanity out of thin air and we already know they don't give a shit about their issues because they were quiet about the same things previously. They're looking for issues, scrounging for issues, demanding attention. So I don't give it to them. No energy for you!

Here, have a thing wot I dun. This did take a bit of energy. But only because I used to really like Time magazine. They taught me to read. I relied on them for information. Then as they sank they taught me to read through them. They taught me to read them as a bunch of bumbling fumbling flailing idiots. They couldn't propagandize their way out of a paper bag. There are dozens of these parodies. Here's a couple. Here's mine.


I'll be busy today doing stuff in the real world. Not reading about Democrats worried about midterms and instigating insanity.

Kid hits cows, cows smash kid

I didn't know 4-H is like this.

Friday, June 22, 2018

It's been a good week

Got some work done, it is only 92 degrees now and it will cool off nicely this evening. While posting a picture I noticed a picture I took on January 17th - how quickly we forget.


That snapshot made me think to take another one right now from the same vantage point:


What a difference five months makes.




Statue of Liberty


Media finally notices FLOTUS's wardrobe


Marine to be imprisoned for involvement with hate group.

Story comes from some place called MSN.  But they didn't have the photo. That comes from a tweet generated by ProPublica.

Both places have more words. Turns out the guy's name is Vasillios Pistolis, he's nineteen years old and he's a neo-Nazi and he bragged about cracking skulls at a Unite the Right rally in Charlottesville last August.

The tweet has more words that go deeper into neo-Naizland.

Well, it takes all kinds.

Neither of the links mentions his gay porn videos where he bottoms but maybe I just imagined that part. Can you see him? Can you see him? Boy, that camouflage sure does work. I totally missed him the first look.








Flavored beer

Paul told me he intends to flavor half his beer raspberry. This happens on Sunday when we bottle the ten gallons, two five-gallon buckets.

I don't like that idea.

Here's the thing, Padawan, students must first master the basics before messing around with variations on a theme. What are you Mozart? And the flavor that is added at bottling can be flavor that's added at pouring. You risk ruining half your first batch by messing around with unknowns.

Silly unknowns at that.

But Paul doesn't listen to reason. Once his mind is set, it's set. You'll notice a certain pride that dummkopfs take in their stubbornness. It cannot be remedied.

Therefore, I'll show him how he intends to ruin his perfectly good first beer.

The bottle-shop downstairs next to this brewing company that gives lessons has a surprisingly broad range of flavored beers. Several duplicates, lime, Mandarin orange, strawberry, watermelon, raspberry-blueberry, passion fruit, coconut, acai, mango, guava, weird shit like banana bread, cucumber mint, sour pickle, sour raspberry, peach. Flavors you do not expect in beer.

This pineapple one isn't half bad.


But not as good as his plain light beer already tastes. The hops in his beer is not so aggressive. None of us like bitter flavor. It's actually light flavored with an interesting spice-like complexity. 

I learned something about all the grains they have back there in bins like the bulk section of Whole Foods except even more extensive. Only a small portion is wheat. And all of them are toasted to an extent, to halt germination, the process of malting, some roasted lightly and others more deeply like coffee beans. Some roasted severely. Strangely burnt to black. Who even wants that? The wheat that Paul chose is lightly roasted with a faint flavor of honey, so it's named "Honey Wheat." The bin is marked with a Canadian flag. Others named "Chocolate wheat" are toasted so long that the color changes to chocolate-y brown. It has nothing to do with the flavor of chocolate, just the color. So if you see a beer marked "Chocolate wheat" then that means the wheat is nearly burnt, somewhat acrid. As if salvaged from a fire. It tastes horrible as wheat grains. I can't imagine what that would do steeped.


So I'll make Paul taste these two beers, pineapple and raspberry, to show him the adulteration doesn't improve what would be his lovely light beer.

(I would have made my ale like Newcastle)

Thursday, June 21, 2018

Migration

Apple Migration Assistant from Macbook Air to Macbook Air.

Psych!

Thought this was going to be political.

Here's the thing that made it so otallytay upidstay.

The machines couldn't find each other and they're both right here side-by side. They cannot get any closer. (Man, this keyboard feels freaky new) The little symbols kept spinning around and around. And I tried everything I could think of. I read dozens of pages of suggestions, turning off the firewall, making sure "share" is turned on both, checking the network.

The new computer produced an error message that doesn't make sense. It refers to an unknown machine with an unknown technical name. Finally after starting over six or seven times, I clicked on the unknown machine and another message said of the new computer, "cannot migrate because this one is outdated."

The old machine had been updated to the latest version, High Sierra, while the new one still had the older version, regular Sierra.

Is that weird or what?

That's one of the things they don't mention. They say make sure you have all recent updates, but they don't mention make sure the whole operating system is updated to the latest. It was just such an odd predicament. That took me too long to figure out. Longer than it took for the migration of all other programs and content. Migration over wifi network was impressively fast. Not the five or so hours the videos say.

I had the computer in a box for six months. I have no real use for it. Except the battery wore out of the old one. It still works but it must be plugged in. I ordered a new battery that I'll replace myself. Already watched videos on how to do it. It involves taking out twenty or so tiny screws. The battery is flat, in four cells and it's wide as the whole thing. A flat thin battery. You can buy it at half the price on Alibaba but I don't trust them fer'ners. GET OFF MY LAWN! Their descriptions are too confusing. They load them with conflicting information then in bold letters say "be sure to order the right one." None of the numbers match what my computer says. It's frustrating. None of the model numbers match.

Charles Krauthammer passes

To that great conservative commentariat panel in the sky. Details at Fox News, including video and a tweet by David Nakamura noting a moment of silence for Krauthammer during a baseball game at the Nationals Park.

Trump intends to reorganize government.

Stop crying! Or I'll give you something to cry about.

     But I already have something to cry about.

Whap! Don't talk back to me.

     Cries harder.

That's how Trump operates. He's mean.


 

Canada can do better than this

Denver declines hosting the 2020 Democrat convention.

We're busy.

Story at CNBC, they're quoting Denver Post, which is still a thing. Jeez, die already. Have you seen their paper? It's like 1/5 the thickness it used to be, and a lot more expensive. And they cannot tell a political story straight if they tried.

Too bad. The first Democrat convention for Obama was really fun. Man, those Democrats are rich. And I mean it. You will not find a more intense concentration of wealth. I've never seen anything like it. And I want to tell you something contrary to all that we know about them. They're lovely people. Every single one that I came into contact directly was kind and gracious and thoughtful to me one-on-one. They assumed I am Democrat, assumed by my canes I need help, assumed I am brave to put myself out there and show interest, assumed I'm a big ole honking stud because it was hot and I was walking around without a shirt on, they assumed I was interested in their pamphlets. Women walking side-by-side were situationally aware and broke it up so that I could pass by, repeatedly, gracious people reached out to assist me up a curb even though it's not needed, people cheered me along. Everybody was nice. Everybody was generous. Even the protestors were nice. They'd stop yelling to say a few words to me, even the people trying to levitate the US Mint, even the people protesting the appearance of Michelle Malkin. A young and very attractive woman with Code Pink dropped her little pink megaphone on the street and when I looked down and saw the broken pink housing and 6 spilled triple A batteries spinning and rolling and realized it's just a toy, I laughed so hard I could hardly walk. She was lovely. Truly beautiful. And hilarious. The cops were nice. The horses were nice, the speakers were nice, the vendors, the activists, the politically charged up were nice. The helicopters running past my apartment were endless. All day long, continuous streams of helicopters without pause. The limousines were without number. Goodness gracious these people are rich.

So what are you going to do with all that money? More money than sense. More money than you can possibly use. Change the world! That's what. That's what Democrat party is, people with excessive money who want to do something with it. Something meaningful. That's what I saw.

Denver is strange. We really don't want you here.

We keep saying that over and over and over and over end over end over Andover Andover.

Who else tells the Olympics to go somewhere else? My friend from Dallas was angry about that. He couldn't process Coloradans telling the Olympic Committee to go fly a kite.

Denver's reasoning is lame. Previous engagements doesn't cut it. Nothing is so important as Democrat Convention. Nothing is prestigious as that, nothing brings in more money, nothing gets more attention. Nothing more satisfying. But Denver said, "no." And it's not a sign of maturity. It's a sign of weariness. And protectionism. It's actual real-life conservation. They might be political crackpots, but they're foremost environmental protectionists. And that's why I love them.