Paul, would you please goddamn die already?

There’s a website called Lies are Unbekoming, and it seems to have a following judging by the number of likes and comments the post I am going to refer to generates. The post was brought to my attention by our friend Dave Klausler, who knows me well enough to know I would not be able to leave it alone. The post is called The Replacement: Examining the Evidence that Paul McCartney Died in 1966. In it the author, “Unbekoming”, recycles the evidence that has been churned now for over fifty years. To me, it looks like a reboot, a whole new generation of people being brought into the hoax. This would make Unbekoming an agent, and also makes me wonder if Paul will ever die for real so that they can put this psyop to bed.

Reading through the comments it is plain that people are as naive now as ever about the Beatles, how they came about, how they happened on their music and who played their instruments. It’s innocent chatter, but also shows off the power of a psyop to continually churn through the ages, bringing in new people. As psyops go, it’s a fun one. No one gets hurt. The work behind it showed off great talent in writing the songs, putting together album covers, and even musical references that played to the hoax. Searching for that kind of stuff can be scintillating fun, especially for kids. (No, of course I never did that!)

Continue reading “Paul, would you please goddamn die already?”

Chinooks and high winds and power outages

We’ve had an unusual last few days here, with high winds blowing off the east slope of the Rockies. When we lived in Montana, they usually happened after a cold snap, and we called them “Chinooks”.

That’s a famous Charles M. Russell painting called Waiting for a Chinook. I had to grab it from a video put out by the Buffalo Bill Museum in Cody, Wy, as there are no still images of it available. I’m not sure I’m allowed to use it. It all makes sense, as artists have to protect their property, even dead ones (Russell: 1864-1926). But it’s ironic too. My dad grew up in Great Falls, Montana, and said that Russell was known to give out pencil and charcoal drawings in exchange for someone buying him a beer. Think, had someone the foresight, what they might be worth now.

Continue reading “Chinooks and high winds and power outages”

The Cave Allegory

“Behold!  human beings living in a sort of underground den, which has a mouth open towards the light and reaching all across the den; they have been here from their childhood, and have their legs and neck chained so that they cannot move, and can only see before them; for the chains are arranged in such a manner as to prevent them from turning round their heads. At a distance above and behind them the light of a fire is blazing, and between the fire in the prisoners there is a raised way; and you will see, if you look, a low wall built along the way, like the screen which marionette players have before them, over which they show the puppets.

I see, he said.

And do you see, I said, men passing along the wall carrying vessels, which appear over the wall; also figures of men and animals, made of wood and stone and various materials; as of the prisoners, as you would expect, are talking, and some of them are silent?

This is a strange image, he said, and they are strange prisoners.

Like ourselves, I replied; and they see only their own shadows, or the shadows of one another, which the buyer throws on the opposite wall of the cave?

True, he said: how could they see anything but the shadows if they were never allowed to move their heads?

And of the objects which are being carried in like manner they would see only the shadows?

Yes he said.

And if they were able to talk with one another, with enough suppose that they were naming what was actually before them?”

The Republic of Plato, Book Seven

Continue reading “The Cave Allegory”

On sheltering in place out of fear of what will happen for not believing in [the] virus[es]

Petra wrote a post in the aftermath of Bondi Beach, obviously knowing the event was fake, but also wondering about the phrase “Shelter in place.” I first saw that phrase in 2020, after the Colorado state government ended the lockdown after 30 days. I did not wonder about it then, but since I had not locked down and had no clue how to shelter myself from something that cannot be seen, tasted, smelled or felt, I ignored that too. Below is a wordy (moi?) comment I left for Petra, our friend and co-conspirator.
Continue reading “On sheltering in place out of fear of what will happen for not believing in [the] virus[es]”

Spinning balls …

This happened some time back, maybe a year or more. I subscribe to Climate Discussion Nexus, a Canadian outfit that covers Climate in detail. It’s host, Dr. John Robson, is a very good writer, crisp and often humorous. I really enjoy his work.

I am inclined to comment now and then when the spirit moves me, as you might guess. I did so one time on CDN, and my comment disappeared into the ether. Never having commented there before, they could not possibly know what an asshole I am, and so had no reason to ban me. I contacted them, politely, and asked what might have happened to the comment. I heard back directly from Robson. He had searched for my comment, asked to see it again by email, and suggested to me that my tone in contacting CDN did not indicate any troll-like traits. He simply did not know or understand why the comment did not post. I told him not to be concerned and also that my $8 (Canadian) monthly contribution would continue. “Whew!” he did not say.

Continue reading “Spinning balls …”

Ancestry dot com

My mother and father were raised on farms. On Mom’s side, there were seven daughters doing what I presume to be sharecropping (a word Mom never used) near Greenbush, Wisconsin. When the farmhouse burned down, 1928 or so as near as I can tell, none were harmed but they were homeless. My grandfather, George Leonard, contacted his brother Mike, who was dryland farming near Ekalaka, Montana. Mike, of course, offered to have him come out and work the farm. As the story goes, George did not tell Mike he was bringing his wife and seven daughters. Mike had a three-room house with an outdoor privy. Mom said Mike was usually in a bad mood, and reflectively said she could see why, having nine people move in on you. Mom said that when Grandma got off the train onto the platform after the long journey, she said “This is it?”

That lasted for a couple of years, I gather, before George and Marie moved their family to nearby Baker, to the spacious house, the front porch of which is seen above. That’s my two older brothers, and in case you lack detective skills I will tell you the day of the week … Saturday. The following day all would ride off to church. Saturday was bath day. (Thanks to my cousin, Eileen, who took photo negatives we found in Mom and Dad’s house after they moved to assisted living, and developed them. My towhead brother Steve has no genitals, so I can run this photo. Early Photoshop, that is.)

Continue reading “Ancestry dot com”

The World of Wikipedia (WOW!)

I took just a little foray this morning into the World of Wiki (WOW), and come away disheartened at the blatant lies and propaganda committed by our online encyclopedia.

WOW maintains that it is privately founded/funded, but I doubt it, and for good reason. It’s a confidence game, that is:

“…a fraudulent scheme where the perpetrator deceives a victim by gaining their trust..”

Continue reading “The World of Wikipedia (WOW!)”

Michael Mann … painting mice?

Case study 1: William Summerlin

In 1974, William Summerlin was conducting research in transplantation immunology in the laboratory of Robert Good at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center in New York City. The research dermatologist had reported successfully transplanting skin between genetically unrelated animals by culturing the skin in a special laboratory medium. The research had major implications for the field of tissue transplantation, but neither he nor other scientists had been able to reproduce his original results.

When Summerlin used a black pen to alter a patch of black mouse skin transplanted onto a white mouse, animal care technicians quickly discovered the fraud. Subsequent investigation by Memorial Sloan-Kettering revealed poorly conducted experiments and misleading statements about research results made by Summerlin in reports and to colleagues. All of his work was discredited, but the 1973 article in Transplantation Proceedings was never retracted.

Oh, if only such research fraud was so easily uncovered. The book I took this from, Unreliable, by Csaba Szabo, noted that “the most lasting contribution of Summerlin’s career seems to be that the term “painting mice” is still used to describe fraud and deception in research. As the footnote to this paragraph says, however, “Most scientists who use this term don’t even know where it comes from.”

Continue reading “Michael Mann … painting mice?”

Quiet desperation except … I don’t know how to keep quiet

I own a bunch of small overriding royalties in various natural gas wells in Grand County, Utah. I no longer receive revenue from them as the company that operates the wells, ARB Energy of Utah, simply stopped paying me. They cannot relieve me of ownership, and their obligation to pay me is both written in to Utah regulations but is also a legal “fiduciary” responsibility, an obligation of trust.

Its’ not just me, of course. There are scores of others in my shoes. For me, I planned to have the overrides as part of my retirement, but can survive without them. What I have learned from scuttlebutt is that ARB, taking over the properties in 2019, started out with good intentions, and then made a huge and bad investment in a plant that produces helium, that promptly went broke. The company acted in desperation, and the executive in charge, Humberto Sevint, is a resourceful man who manages to come up with stopgap funding to stay afloat.

Continue reading “Quiet desperation except … I don’t know how to keep quiet”

Oddball things from the oddball

News from the hearing impaired

I’ve been noticing as I watch TV that I will usually go through the steps to get subtitles. My wife occasionally tells me the TV is too loud. I was wondering, is my hearing degrading?

I have some experience in this area, my Dad, who complained for years that he was losing his hearing before anyone actually believed him. That was the basis for the old joke that married men only suffer partial hearing loss, the one frequency that their wives are on. But Dad finally did get hearing aids. He was constantly having to replace the batteries, and also adjusting the level.  I don’t think they worked very well. However, one of my older brothers kicked in $2,500, directly to an audiologist, and then when Dad came to get his hearing aid replaced, the bill was only $1,000 instead of $3,500. Dad was suspicious about that.

Continue reading “Oddball things from the oddball”