My intro here maybe a bit longish, so it you would rather jump to Dave’s essay on Yahtzee, I remind you that DSK is prone to vulgarities in his writing. Gird your loins. This reminds me of the comedian Anthony Jeselnek, who fondly remembers his grandmother reading Huckleberry Finn to him as a boy. He said she did it for two reasons: One, to have quality time with her grandson, and two, so she could use the N-word without being chastised.
I do not gamble. I have gambled in the past. In my twenties, I would go to local horse races in Billings, Montana, an annual fall event. I would bet trifecta or quinella, and as the race ended and if my horses were close, the combination of that and copious quantities of beer produced an excitement in my brain that I later learned was the same sensation given by cocaine. Once I gave up the beer, the desire to bet the ponies left too.
Jerry Seinfeld has enjoyed enormous success in his life. I have tried to think of other men named “Jerry” who have had similar fortune, and after Lewis and Lee Lewis, come up short. Help me out. Nicknames don’t work on serious people so well, even as friends knew him as Gerry Ford, and not Gerald. He was “Johnny ” Carson, not John.
I like Seinfeld, and do not envy him one dollar of his well-deserved popularity. Comics have a reputation of being angry. He is not angry at us. He is just annoyed. There’s a difference.
I wish him continued success, and also say this knowing he will never make another movie. He knows better, and learns sometimes the hard way. He works hard at his craft, even today trying out his material in comedy clubs to see what works and what does not. He never phones it in, never expects that people will laugh merely because he is Seinfeld. Each joke is finely crafted, each word in place, not to be substituted for another.
I watched a performance by comedian Taylor Tomlinson last night. She is young (currently 28) and having lots of success. She’s also blue, that is, quite a big of her act involves sexual experiences and attitudes about sex and guys in general. I suppose part of that is that she is very attractive, so as with, say, Iliza Shlesinger, there is an element of imagined accessibility for guys. Neither are stunners, but both exude raw sex appeal. Most guys would fantasize that they perhaps have a shot with her. That type of fantasy does not happen with true knockouts, where guys realize they have no shot.
That’s not why I am writing about her (them). Both are very funny, and I wish them both long and prosperous careers. During Tomlinson’s act, she talked about being “manic depressive”. For anyone who does not know, that condition, sometimes referred to as a “disease” and treated with antidepressants and antispychotics, probably doesn’t exist. It is like the hundreds of disorders promoted by the DSM-5, The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition. There is no physical or blood or urine test that would give any indication of illness, no medical test of any kind. Like so many of the “disorders” promoted by the psychiatric profession, they are voted up or down. It’s based on symptoms, things like bouts of depression or spells of anxiety, erratic behaviors, or substance abuse.
Stephers puts so much effort into per posts, giving them a long-lasting quality. They are still drawing comments months after posting. When she called her most recent “Part 10 of 10” I was somewhat concerned that she would not be writing anymore. However, she says that she is not done, just done with that particular series. She has much to offer, and will continue to write. For that I am thankful. Continue reading “Friday tidbits”→
I love comedy and good comedians. It is a terribly difficult profession, and those who succeed usually have years of struggle under their belt. The funniest man of my lifetime, and it is always subjective, was Mel Brooks. He was famous in years before I came of age for being the 2000 year old man, interviewed by Carl Reiner. Comedy is subjective, as I said, and I never found that bit funny. But Blazing Saddles? Hilarious! Brooks seemed to thrive in visual medium, as with Space Balls where, when teleported from one room to another, looked down and found his ass was on the front instead of the back. He chided his staff for not telling him how big it was.
Since the last post might appear to be a personal attack on Big Swede, who came here to attack us, I thought it best to maybe put up something quick and let it fall into the background. I am currently involved in going through old photos, reasons for that I won’t discuss, but nonetheless fun. My wife and I are in our 27th year, and it has been unending adventure. I spent part of today looking for a photo of me in the Beartooth Mountains of Montana, where we crossed a stream that had a bridge, but it had collapsed. She took the photo as I hopped over without going in. I think I have lost the photo, from the 90s, when everything was still film. I had written on the back of the photo the caption beneath the photo which I dredged up on the Internet today, a foot bridge that had collapsed in Prague. It is my sense of humor, take it or leave it.
I am spending more time in the Internet age with comedians, and far less with serious people – you know, thinkers, hacks, non-listeners. The latter, most people, are especially annoying. I can see in the darting eyes no point in trying to engage in serious conversation with most everyone I know face-to-face. They are only lightly engaged in real life.
On our recent vacation, I attempted to engage my grandsons in some serious reflection, telling them that Climate Change is not real, that there is no need to fear any “virus,” but teachers and media have such a hold on them that they are trapped. I do hope in the coming years as they mature that they come to appreciate that one person attempted to tell them the truth, while every other person in their lives, some knowingly but most not, lied to them. Life is absurd, I hope they come to realize.
Media, i.e. TV, YouTube, Facebook and the like … I’ve virtually blocked it out of my life. We have a Samsung TV on our wall, and it sits blackened 23 hours a day, that one remaining hour devoted to a search for wholesome entertainment. We did find it in a British TV series, Call the Midwife, set in London in the 1950s and 60s. It has profound appeal to me as its central characters in part are Anglican nuns of the Order of St. John the Divine. I was taught by Dominican nuns in my formative years, and the portrayal in Midwife is so profound and accurate concerning the quality if these wonderful women.
Over the past year and a half, as I argued with friends and family about the absurdities of the Covid narrative, many of them speculated my objections must stem from a lack of belief in science.
I now realize how right they were. I was a heathen. I didn’t believe.
But recently, I made a discovery… and the scales fell from my eyes.
Like others who follow this blog, I’ve read lots of the scientific studies media and government officials point to when claiming “science supports” whatever they say about Covid. We know these papers prove nothing. They offer no credible evidence. Many are not, and never will be, published in established scientific journals. Yet their mere existence confers the blessing of scientific “support.”
As long as the authors use impenetrable language to describe scientific-sounding work on a hypothesis… and as long as the media likes that hypothesis… voilà! Lo-and-behold, science supports it!
At that point, the hypothesis emerges from the cocoon of imagination, spreads its wings, and manifests into glorious reality.
Come to think of it, it’s a lot like the Law of Attraction—a concept I’m embarrassed to admit I once believed in.
Man, was I stupid. The Law of Attraction never supported any of my hopes and dreams. Not a single one.
This popped up in email a few days ago from ScottRC, who is a frequent commenter. I was immediately drawn to the artwork. He’s apparently quite practiced at this, as the characters, lines faces, expressions – all of it, look professional. And, of course, the message fits right in here.
We had to go to the store this morning for milk … out into the hinterlands to walk with the common folks, the masked masses. I don’t know why, but this scene played in my head. Cleavon Little’s laughter almost looks like an outtake, but Mel Brooks left it in. Gene Wilder is a superb comedic talent.