My business plan: I will kill you with my smug

Just a brief note in passing to discuss two things that on the surface might seem unrelated. That is because under the surface they are unrelated. They are smugness, and business plans.

First, business plans. If you were to go to a bank seeking financing for your business, be it nail grooming or dog bathing or plumbing and heating, the bank will ask to see a written business plan. Stripped of its jargon – things like market dimensions and depth, rate of return, maximized cash flow … all real to a degree but also inside baseball talk, the simplest way to understand a business plan is to answer the question: “What’s your gimmick?”

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The radon game

If there is one ‘truism’ – something obvious and neither new or interesting – it is that the vast majority of people rely on authority figures in forming their own opinions. What else can we expect when our education system at its core (the tests) punishes students for being wrong. The SAT and ACT regimes are long lists of things to be memorized, statements by authority figures that students must regurgitate to land in a good college. It instills students with fear of being wrong even as mistakes are the best teachers around.

I long ago read a book (I should stop right there) by Edward Bernays called “Propaganda.” I would imagine at a website like this many others have read it as well. It was an interesting book in that Bernays, writing in the 1920s, came right out and said things that were known to be true among insiders, but were rarely spoken outside of the club (the men of his time who managed public opinion). I cite here a passage that appears right at the opening:

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Quiet, Please! The Latest Threat to the Big Wild

It was another long summer of smoke-filled eyes in the West. An early snow storm in the Northern Rockies ushers in a season of peace and solitude. Wildfires frighten tourists, excite the media and reacquaint homeowners who built in the forest to Mother Nature’s laws.  Hey, I get it, fires are deadly and sexy – good ratings. But after decades of kicking the environmental can down the road, at the first sign of smoke most politicians want someone else to blame for their pathetic past performances.

Three of the last four summers (2015, 2017, 2018), Glacier National Park erupted in a fury of smoke and flames. Tourists scampered away to Yellowstone, “inholder” homes were evacuated, some incinerated. But that’s not why I picked up the pen today. Let’s talk about quiet, yes quiet.  Where has our quiet gone? Continue reading “Quiet, Please! The Latest Threat to the Big Wild” →

The Great Sagan

BookI am reading again of Immanuel Velikovsky, this time of his public interactions with Carl Sagan, widely regarded as a go-to source in the field of astrophysics. I am reading a book by Charles Ginenthal, who apparently had low regard for Sagan. I have read much of Sagan’s popular work, and would not call him a fraud. However, he did not put actions behind his words, and that is Ginenthal’s complaint, as will be apparent below.

Ginenthal published Carl Sagan & Immanuel Velikovsky in 1995, and so knew of the transparency of the Sagan figure long before I even knew of Velikovsky. I take heart that Sagan, who died in 1996, must have known of Ginenthal’s work, published a year earlier. But of course, being Sagan, he would have smugly set it aside. (Ginenthal has also written Stephen J. Gould and Immanuel Velikovsky and Newton, Einstein and Velikovsky. Hallelujah! I’ve been dying for fresh reading material.)

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The Self Fulshilling Prophecy

This will be a shorter one compared to the Peculiar Plot series. I can understand people lack the attention span to read long pieces, but at the same time do not want to fall for that “Twitter 140 character soundbite” culture where 6 second attention span seekers with the patience of a ferret on crystal meth seem to rule, up to even people who are accustomed to read long pieces or listen to hours of talks, like people in their 50s and above, half or a full generation older than me.

The idea I want to share is the self fulshilling prophecy. It is one of my many neologisms; I like to invent new words to use because the language given to us is scripted to a large extent. By using our own ability to form language, we are humans after all, we can pinpoint what we mean much better without being compromised by agenda pushers.

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Smell the Coffee.

Every once in a while I try to explain critical elements of global debt-slavery.  It’s not a popular topic, I suppose, because we all — excluding the ruling elite — live the same lie.  Democracy.  Freedom.  Justice.  Equality.  You get the picture.  All giant lies.  The following comment over at Moon of Alabama this morning may help bring reality into greater focus for some who either deny, or cannot, for one reason or another, bring themselves to accept what simply is.  Thank you “donkeytale.”  Enjoy! Continue reading “Smell the Coffee.” →

If it is on YouTube … it is suspect

We have, in the past, spent inordinate time on two (or three or four) men named Paul McCartney and John Lennon. I must take responsibility for this, and it is because of my age. The Beatles came on stage just as I was growing pubes and noticing girls, and like every kid alive of that age at that time, I fantasized about being a Beatle. Later on I learned what phonies they were, mere actors backed by a huge Intelligence team that included spooks, publicists, song writers, studio musicians. But at the time, they mattered to me.

“When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things.  (1 Corinthians 13)

Would that the bible verse were true, I suppose. Here I am writing about John and Paul, two old men, even older than me, one in hiding somewhere  (or maybe dead for real by now), the other having a hidden twin (or out in the open as “John Halliday”). It has been good for shits and giggles to uncover and expose these low and vile creatures, but it has also for a long time been time to move on.

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Peculiar Plots – The Great Escape

Before I return to the earlier Peculiar Plots, I stumbled upon this story, that deserves being part of the series. Again, the plot is so ridiculously contradictory, that it baffles people actually believe these kinds of plots. The plot holes are so deep and pervasive, the story could just be called a talking Swiss cheese.

The Stalag Luft III allegedly was a prisoner-of-war (POW) camp of Nazi Germany in the extreme east of the Altreich (the borders of Germany pre-WWII), in present-day Poland. It is said there were “10,949” prisoners (unknown if this is a cumulative number or the maximum at one moment) consisting of British RAF and US American USAF and other nationality prisoners. The two compounds of the camp are said to have been guarded by 800 Nazi officers.

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A Good Clean Kill, And Other Beauty Secrets

I’m sure many of our “baby boomer” friends will remember the soap ads from the 1950s and 60s.  Clean was big business then, clean was beautiful, and nobody wanted to stink.  B.O. (body odor) was a hot topic thanks to decades of marketing.

Dial wasn’t the first “deodorant” soap, but it was the first one that didn’t smell like turpentine or paint thinner – oh, I’m talkin’ “Lifebuoy.” Lifebuoy, originally made by Lever Bros. (now Unilever) in England, has been around since 1895.  The smell was phenol, a compound made with carbolic acid extracted from coal tar.  To fight B.O. you could instead smell like an auto body repair shop.

Dial, named for its “round-the-clock” anti-B.O. protection (from perspiration), was introduced in 1948 by Armour Co. (yes, the meat-packers) in Chicago. Armour had made tallow-based laundry soap since 1888.  With the help of some clever chemists, Armour added hexachlorophene, or G-11 or AT-7.  How about those numbers?  Continue reading “A Good Clean Kill, And Other Beauty Secrets” →

An answer for JJ

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I have repeatedly gotten the following comment from JJ on an old post called “We know that Sharon Tate did not die that night, but was she even pregnant?”

The “rose” is actually part of the string of Christmas lights that Candice Bergen left strewn about the fence before moving out with Terry Melcher.

I have not let the comment through. If I do, JJ becomes a regular, and I don’t want that. This person seems to be dealing on an intimate level with the Tate Massacre. Such people litter the landscape, and are either clueless or are deliberately casting about seeds of doubt on honest research. In either case, I don’t want him/her coming around. So I am answering here, as the odds are that the email address given with the comment is bogus.

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