My background is in accounting, though thankfully I am retired now for several years. A trait accounting shares with many other professions is a system of control that weeds out corruption and shady players. In accounting, it is called “internal control.”
The election in Maricopa County, Arizona, was chaos. The problem, we are told, is with the machines, not the people.
In school I learned that any accounting system that depends on the integrity of the people who run it is an ineffective system. That is not a slam on humanity, even as it sounds like one. The idea behind effective accounting administration is to devise a self-regulating system, and to audit it often, at least yearly. One means by which self-regulation is achieved (imperfectly, of course) is by means to separation of duties. The person who opens the mail does not record checks, and yet another person deposits those checks. The idea is that it is far less likely to achieve fraud if more than one person is involved.
Matters of importance are under discussion here, and I feel, as blog proprietor, an obligation to chime in. The question revolves around “Jen,” DS Klausler’s companion in his dystopian story about building a new life after a worldwide catastrophe. Now it can be told, as those who are going to read the story have done so. Is she hot?
Dave chose the high road and offered up little in description of her physical features other than having glanced on her bathing in a stream, noting that she was adequately equipped with female body parts. That left it to the imagination. Some thought she must be, at least considering outward female attributes, a keeper. Truth be told, she was the only one left, so no matter her attributes, if there was going to be reproduction, she was it.
This story is 45 MS Word pages long, by D.S. Klausler, aka our friend Dave. He handed it to me maybe a week ago. As I began to read it I got absorbed, and finished reading it in two sessions. It is well written and enjoyable – his descriptions of life in the outdoors, tools and weaponry are masterful. I will not spoil it for you other than to note that at the opening the sun is moving in the sky. That should hint at what follows.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone. I will be suffering under the Florida sun, unless it is moving. I’ll return around late November, and hopefully by that time Dave will have acquired new readers and followers. The blog during that time is deservedly his – to bask in that moving sun,.
I do not like thee, Dr Fell,
The reason why I cannot tell;
But this I know, and know full well,
I do not like thee, Dr Fell.
I am just about through Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s book, The Real Anthony Fauci: Bill Gates, Big Pharma, and the Global War on Democracy and Public Health. It is inflammatory but heavily sourced. Fauci is, in my view, a monster, a criminal of historic proportions, while eugenicist Bill Gates could be a poster child for Asperger’s Syndrome. I like to connect dots, probably not warranted of course, but I wonder if Bill’s wife Melinda read the book. It came out in 2021 and she left him that year. One thing is certain – neither Fauci or Gates has glanced inside the cover. Also, they are shielded by a fawning press that attacks the attacker on their behalf.
In the past two weeks, I have missed two dentist appointments, and even as I knew I was going to interview Ab of Fakeologist at 6PM on Monday, there I sat in my chair when he called to remind me. We spent an inordinate amount of time trying to liven up a new Yeti microphone I purchased (I am planning on doing live interviews in the not-too-distant future, perhaps using Zoom). Who to interview? I would start with the people who comment here.
Anyway, beneath the fold is the latest conversation between Ab and me.We did it over the phone, as technomoron here could not get the new microphone to work.
The following is an op ed piece submitted to Montana’s print media with the hope of reaching some people who have been duped by the dupers. Whenever you hear about a western congressman or senator talking about “wilderness protection,” there is always more to the story, and more seizing native forest land for commerce than there is wilderness protection. My argument follows:
Technology and machines encroach into rural homes, schools and businesses, changing the private and public values that have long defined quality of life in Montana. Fragments of virgin forest fall to man’s replacement: expensive, more powerful machines.
Local, year-round residents in towns like Seeley Lake and Lincoln have always struggled to make ends meet. Local businesses always worked hard just to keep their heads above water. Life in Montana has always been a struggle to survive; it makes us smile.
Lately, political operatives with fancy titles and university degrees in political science and social engineering are now trying to sell Montanans a fable that these isolated communities were once thriving mining and logging towns. According to Webster’s, to thrive is “to grow vigorously, flourish or to gain in wealth or possessions: prosper.” My question to these (self-appointed) superior intellectuals: Is that so?
My wife and I drive a 2018 Toyota Tacoma, our Taco. Yesterday we drove down to Lakewood to a park called Bear Creek, which has nice flat trails so I can practice this skill I have lost called “walking” On return, I noticed that the Taco registered that I had 17 miles left on my tank of gas.
I decided to go to the gas station near our home, where we get a discount based on grocery purchases. As I drove the miles kept going down, and I confess I was a bit nervous even as I knew there was reserve behind the indicator. As I pulled into the station I had “1” mile left to empty.
I filled it up, and it took 19.01 gallons, and I thought this to be the perfect opportunity to get a read on how much fuel is in reserve when the indicator says empty. I looked up the specs on the truck, and it said that it has a 21.1 gallon fuel tank. In other words, when it said empty, we had 2.1 gallons left, or maybe 50 miles in reserve.
I am cursing myself now for (only somewhat) buying in to the election nonsense.
There once was (and it is still running old strips) a cartoon strip called Peanuts, featuring Charlie Brown, a hopeless loser with a good heart. Each year his pal Lucy would offer to hold a football for him to kick. She had to talk him into it, as in every year prior at the last moment she would pull the football, as seen above. That’s me, thinking that while we nominally have two major political parties, we really have but one. The purpose of the “other” party, no matter your alignment, is to prevent the rise of a true second party.
Two untrustworthy players, playing a game we know little to nothing about, except that if the past is prologue, we need another Yellowstone Club like a hole in the head. Remembering the Lee Metcalf Wilderness trade-off (Jack Creek road) and Gallatin I and Gallatin II land exchanges, which I opposed, with only a handful of like-minded souls who could see the disaster (Big Sky/Yellowstone Club et al.) long before it materialized. I cannot figure out what the Crow nation sees in this by accepting anything less than original, absolute title to their sacred land. My .02, off the top of my head.
Anyone can submit commments. If you do not submit comments, you will be most likely barred from entering a federal court challenge due to lack of “standing.” Clever, aren’t they?
Forest Service seeks comments on Crazy Mountains land exchange proposal
The public now has the opportunity to weigh in on a proposed land exchange that’s been brewing for four years on the east side of the Crazy Mountains, an idea first formulated by a group that includes area landowners.
The agreement would exchange 4,135 acres (10 parcels) of forest lands for 6,430 acres of private lands (11 parcels), owned by six private property owners in the Crazy Mountains and near the Inspiration Divide Trail in Big Sky. The land near Big Sky is sought by the Yellowstone Club, a private community of multi-millionaires.
“Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana.” (Groucho Marx)
Five weeks ago I underwent surgery on my right ankle to repair a torn tendon. It turned out to be two tendons and, apparently, one was mis-located, that is, congenitally in the wrong place. That explains why, even before the skiing mishap, I always had pain in that ankle when working on our hillside.
If I were fifty instead of seventy, the accident would not have happened. It is simply a product of aging, that joints, tendons, bones and ligaments are hardened and more easily damaged.
Today the boot is removed, and I will be wearing an ankle brace. I have no idea what that will look like. Full healing of the tendon takes about three months, so that by January I will be skiing again. I should add, it is cross country skiing, not downhill. Growing up with just the change in my pocket, I could never afford downhill skiing, oh poor me. Cross country over the years has taken me to places I never otherwise would have seen. Downhill skiing, while exciting and dangerous, is repetition, the same hill all day long. I have done it on several occasions, and enjoyed it. Once Red Lodge Mountain offered a free day to the public, and I took my kids there – they all took to it right away. It was a fun day. After that, I stuck with XC.