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The Excuses I’m Not Excusing

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Department of War Is Hell
(And Also Entertaining, In A Masterpiece Theatre Production)

MH and I watched season 1 of World on Fire, “an adrenalized, emotionally gripping and resonant World War II drama that follows the intertwining fates of ordinary people in five countries as they grapple with the effects of the war on their everyday lives.” Which is * exactly * how I was going to describe it to y’all, until  Masterpiece Theatre’s website did it first and saved me the trouble of using terms like resonant.

The seven part series, which follows the first year of (the European experience of) WWII, left us looking forward to the second season (not yet available, but in the works).  Moiself  of course wants to see how the *intertwining fates of ordinary people*  plays out; also, I’m curious to see if something moiself  noticed, about the presentation of the series’ male and female characters’ personalities, continues into season two.  

With the exception of an endearingly awkward, ethically decent RAF pilot and a shell-shocked WWI vet-turned-pacifist-activist, the male characters seemed rather and  variously “weak” when it came to overall content of character, from their decision-making, treatment of others, and ability to act on – and modify, as circumstances dictated – their principles.  In contrast, the majority of the female characters, no matter their economic, personal, and cultural backgrounds, displayed a certain ethical, temperamental and intellectual strength, despite the chaos and amorality of the war around them.  I wanted to ask the writers and producers, was this gender character discrepancy intentional?

I’m thinking, yes…or at least, maybe…and that it is,at least in part meant to ironically highlight the strength of the women of that time and in those countries, wherein they were viewed as the “weaker” sex.  In so many, many ways (ways that still are in place, around the world), women, indeed, were “weaker” than their male counterparts:

* Women were “weaker” in that being born female automatically assigned them to a lower status in their country, their religion, their own family;

* Women were “weaker” in that they had fewer (if any, in some cases) civil rights or personal, professional, educational opportunities as compared to men, yet they were subject to life-altering decisions imposed upon them by (male) politicians, religious and cultural leaders, as well as that of their own and husbands, fathers, and male kin;

* Women were “weaker” in that their opportunities for self-determination were limited, and if somehow they were able to take direct action they had to do so at the sacrifice of what was considered a normal life and risk incurring societal shaming and ostracizing;

* Women were “weaker” in that the personal life choices both men and woman made had very different consequences for women than for men (e.g. extramarital sex; bearing vs. fathering a child out of wedlock).

 

 

*   *   *

Department Of Talking Back To Someone Who Can’t Hear Me

Dateline: last week, circa 7:45 am on a rainy morning.  Moiself  is listening to a Fresh Air podcast during my morning walk. I’m at the end of the podcast, a slot typically reserved for a book, film or other artistic review.  As book critic Maureen Corrigan begins her segment on “Need A Mental Escape? These Books Offer Solace In Troubled Times,” my mind begins to drift. I’m snapped back to the present when I hear Corrigan, speaking about who she thinks of when she thinks about her favorite food writers, say that she always thinks of:

“…the immortal Laurie Colwin, who died in 1992.

With only the raindrops splashing up from the street to hear me, I blurt out:

“Well then, she wasn’t exactly immortal, was she?”

 

 

*   *   *

Department Of Sometimes I Don’t Even Ask, “What?” (Or, “Why?”)

Sight of the week, spotted at the entrance to our cul-de-sac, while moiself is driving to the grocery store: An Older Gentleman (late 70s, I’d guess), is standing on our street corner, talking to a neighbor (they are a bit closer to each other than social distancing norms would recommend, and neither is wearing a mask).

 

 

As I round approach and then round the corner I see that the OG is holding a…gas dispenser nozzle?  Yep, that’s what it is…in each hand.  OG (consciously or otherwise) uses the nozzles to gesture as he speaks.  Neither nozzle is attached to a hose, or anything else –  they are just nozzles, no gas tank or gas station in sight.

 

“For the last time, Regular or premium, and do you want your receipt?!”

*   *   *

 

Department Of Excuses In The Coronavirus Age

My late mother  [1]  was born and raised in the small northern Minnesota town of Cass Lake.  A reserved, studious, compliant child, she was never what I would (nor she did) describe as introspective or particularly perceptive. Still, every now and then she’d share with me an anecdote from her childhood which demonstrated, even when it was not the point of the story, that she was paying attention to the world of grown-ups around her, and not always liking or respecting what she saw.

Mom was in her early teens during the WWII era. One time when I asked her to recount some of her wartime memories, the first thing she told me was how she’d noticed that so many of the townsfolk, from merchants to private citizens, used The War ® as an all-purpose excuse or evasion for their mistakes, oversights, and outright incompetencies.

Cass Lake was far off the national defense radar; the town was not a hub or conduit for anything of vital importance  [2]  for The War Effort. ®   Of course, there was rationing of certain goods (e.g., gasoline, butter, sugar, canned milk) and shortages of others (e.g., automobile tires; shoe soles, and other rubber items), like in all towns across the country. Everyone knew this and adjusted their habits and expectations accordingly.  But when your mother asked you to stop on your way home from school at the five and dime store and get a spool of (non-rationed) black thread and the shopkeeper told you he was out of black thread but would put in an order and he’d have it next Tuesday…then when you went to the store on Tuesday and there was still no black thread and you timidly inquired as to when your mother could expect it to be in, the shopkeeper would glare at you and dismissively whine,

“Don’t your folks know there’s a war on?”

 

 

War on- schmoron.  You found out later (from a classmate who had an after-school job in the store’s stockroom) that the shopkeeper had written up his re-supply invoices just before closing time, that very day of your first visit – after he’d taken a late lunch (read: three whiskeys) at the tavern. He’d simply forgotten to include your order, as well as the orders of several other customers, who also found out on Tuesday that the ______ (shoelaces/spatula/salt mill/cornhusker’s lotion) they’d requested were not in because,

“There’s a war on.”

The town’s lone barber station was closed for four hours one Friday afternoon, during your father’s regularly scheduled 2 pm appointment.  It was a sunny day; business was slow, and the barber wanted to go fishing during lunch and stayed at the pond later than he’d planned.  The next day, when your father complained to the barber about leaving work and showing up for his appointment only to find that there was no one there to trim his hair, guess what he heard:

“Don’t you know there’s a war on?”

The one movie theater in town oversold their Saturday matinee.  You and your friend bought tickets to the show but could find not one empty seat in the theater, and when you returned your tickets and asked for your money back, or at least tickets to a later showing:

“Don’t you girls know there’s a war on?”

Y’all get the picture.

 

 

Nowadays, we (allegedly) peacetime Consumers ® get the you-know-what excuses, most frequently encountered when we are put on hold during telephone calls (and we’re making more calls then we used to, what with  sheltering-at-home and not taking our concerns directly to the businesses and organizations) to customer service lines.

First, there are the two customary/introductory lies which accompany our journey to the call waiting queue:

* “We’re experiencing a higher volume of calls than usual…”
(WTF, customer service voice dude!?  This is your default/standard message, no matter what day/time of day I call – which means that since you are *always* experiencing a “higher” volume of calls, by definition you are experiencing just a normal volume of calls…which you can’t admit and so you feed me this bullshit line, trying to get me to imagine 500 people calling at the same time as moiself instead of admitting you don’t have the staff to handle a normal amount of customer calls.)

* “We thank you for your patience.”
(Ahem. I do *not* thank you for your presumption.  We’ve never met; you haven’t even spoken with me, yet you are thanking me for my temperament, when I am not in fact experiencing anything resembling patience.)

Now we move on the Situation Specific Mendacity:

* “Due to the coronavirus, we are ______________

* “…taking extra precautions with your newspaper production and delivery…”

* “…dealing with customers who have extra concerns about our services, and we are doing our utmost to ensure that…”

 

 

Attention, companies:  unless you are a health care business, you can’t use the virus as an excuse for putting us in the same holding pattern you’ve been using FOR YEARS.

No, no, and no – the coronavirus has nothing to do with ourcellphone family plan you altered with neither my request nor permission…. And people are not calling your newspaper’s customer service subscription info line to ask about COVID-19 symptoms…nor are they waiting to speak with a Target customer returns representative about how best to administer the Presidentially-recommended COVID-killing bleach enema….  The timeliness and accuracy, or lack thereof, of your responses to our concerns have to nothing to do with COVID-19, and your call centers/customer service department employees are perfectly capable of lying to us/not listening to our complaints working from home, so don’t be using this as yet another excuse for your ineptitude.

*   *   *

Department of The Corona Virus Playlist
The Weird Al Yankovic Edition

Moiself  has listed some of Weird Al’s song titles which are IMHO, applicable to our social-isolating, transmission–paranoid, COVID-19 times, and which, in small groupings, imply a related story. If I were making a movie of these times, Weird Al might just be the person I’d tap to do the soundtrack.

Germs
Cable Tv
I Can’t Watch This
Callin’ In Sick
The Saga Begins

Stuck In A Closet With Vanna White
Amish Paradise
Laundry Day
I’m So Sick Of You
I Was Only Kidding

Livin’ In The Fridge
Free Delivery
Girls Just Want To Have Lunch
Fast Food

I Love Rocky Road
Rice, Rice Baby
Snack All Night
Fat
Fatter
You Don’t Love Me Anymore
Won’t Eat Prunes Again

Everything You Know Is Wrong
Dare To Be Stupid
I’ll Be Mellow When I’m Dead
Mr. Frump In The Iron Lung

 

 

*   *   *

Pun For The Day

Did you hear about the cross-eyed teacher who lost her job
because she couldn’t control her pupils?

*   *   *

Department of Epicurean Excursion Evolution  [3]

 

And here’s what I made for ours, one day this week.

Featuring this week’s Theme Day and recipe…Never mind.
It was my and MH’s wedding anniversary. We got takeout veggie burgers and tots.  [4]

My rating:

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

Recipe Rating Refresher  [5]

*   *   *

May you enjoy the petty pleasure of talking back to those who can’t hear you;
May you not accept “coronavirus” excuses for non-coronavirus issues;
May you remember to be mellow when you’re dead;
…and may the hijinks ensue.

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!

*   *   *

 

[1] Late as in deceased, not as in chronically tardy.

[2] Except of course for the young men (and women) who joined the Armed Forces – thank you for your service (oh…yeah…they’re all dead now…it’s just a reflex, ya know?).

[3] A recurring feature of this blog, since week 1 of April 2020, wherein moiself decided that moiself would go themes as listed in the 4-3-20 blog.

[4] Cajun spiced, okay?

[5]

* Abject Failure:  I’ll make a canned wieners & SpaghettiOs gelatin mold before I make this recipe again.

* Tolerable:  if you have the proper…attitude.

* Yep: why, sure, I’d share this with my cat.

* Now you’re talkin’: Abby the support Avocado ® approves.

* Yummers: So good, it merits The Purple Tortilla Chip Of Exclamation ® !

 

The Cookbook I’m Not Writing

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Department Of You Need This Laugh

And apparently, you may need a toilet plunger if you go to –
or have to go when you’re in [sorry] – Merry Olde England.

You gotta love a travelogue/essay which contains the phrase (referring to the British), “It’s an open question whether they’re better at plumbing or cooking,” soon followed by, “There’s no polite way to begin my testimony. It all started when I took a shit.”  This magnificent piece of potty-permeated prose, written by Lewis Lee, for The Good Men Project, describes the difficulties Lee faced when he tried to acquire a toilet plunger in the UK.

I received this link from observant, well-traveled friend DC, in response to my comment on a picture of a topiary he posted on FB:  I’d compared one of the elaborately pruned hedges in the photograph to a toilet plunger.  After reading this essay, I felt I could skip my core/abs workout of the day, and my sides are still sore from the after-laughter effects. Moiself  is forever in his debt.

My United Kingdom for a Plunger

 

Certainly there must be a plunger for the Royal Loo.

 

*   *   *

Department Of Simple Pleasures
# 3892 in a series

My reading list stretches to infinity. Thus, I am thankful to a certain author for not adding to that (admittedly delightful) burden.  She did so by titling her memoir – think along the lines of, “Love’s Labour, Like, Totally Lost: I Was Runner-up on ‘The Bachelor’ ” – the kind of title which relieves me of the responsibility of giving her book a second glance:

“Wild Game: My Mother, Her Lover, and Me”

 

*   *   *

Department Of Today’s Blog Title

Indeed, moiself  is *not* writing a cookbook.

 

There, there. Life is full of disappointments; calm yourselves.

 

I do, however, have a title for one.

This is not the only cookbook I haven’t written.  The first one was titled, “Shut Up And Eat This: Cooking For Your Relatives And Your Children.” Literary agents did not leap at the chance to represent that work, imagine that.

The cookbook I am now not writing will be called, Jump to Recipe.

 

 

Yeah; they get it.

A brief explanation…

 

” ‘Briefs’ are a type of short, snug, men’s underwear, aka ‘tighty whities,’ in contrast opposed to looser styles like “boxer shorts’…”

 

Sister, please.

I’ll try again.

A brief explanation, for y’all who perhaps are unfamiliar with food blogs.   [1]  If you search online  for recipes, you will increasingly/more than likely see, under the recipe/blog title (or somewhere near the top of the post), the option, Jump to Recipe  [2].   

It’s an option I appreciate, as in the past few years it seems that every recipe posted online must be accompanied by a certain number of paragraphs of self-indulgent blah blah blahexposition

The verbiage include stories about how the Food Blogger Person ® came up with the recipe, how FBP’s recipe has evolved, how FBP has evolved to be able to even imagine such a combination of ingredients and/or techniques and/or cuisine traditions, followed by what seems to be the obligatory bullet-point list of exclamatory statements re why this is such a great recipe:

* It’s simple!
* It’s tasty!

* It’s like Summer vacation on a sheet pan!
* It uses less than ten ingredients!
* It uses ingredients you will likely have around the house!   [3]

* It won’t give ____ ( your in-laws an excuse to order pizza; your children a reason to make that yucky vegetable face; your pee that weird asparagus smell ) !
* Your ____  (friends; cellmates; boss ) will never guess that this dish is  ____ ( heart-healthy; vegan; plagiarized from a Martha Stewart cookbook ) !

Yep, I’m having some fun with you food bloggers, even as I hope ’tis obvious that moiself is a fan of (some) of y’alls’ works.  That said, as much as there are times when I can appreciate the stellar story behind your stupendous Stavanger Stew, other days, I just want to make a chunky Norwegian soup.  I have my ideas and I want to compare them to yours; I want proportions of ingredients, not a six paragraph saga about how everyone you know (or are related to, or sleeping with, or owe money to…) raves about this recipe, or how by making *your* variation on tahini and avocado toast I will be saving the planet….

 

 

*   *   *

Department Of Don’t Try This At Home

Dateline: last Thursday; plenty of time on my hands, as we seem to have These Days ®.  I decided to clean out/reorganize the freezer, and in doing so got a nasty cut on my left index finger, from a hitherto unseen but very sharp part of the freezer’s drain panel.  Now that I can’t fully use it, I’ve been discovering just how many things I do with my left hand, either solo or in comradeship with my (dominant) right hand.

Moiself is not a true ambidext.  [4]  Still, I’ve always done certain things with my left hand, a fact that, for reasons that are not fully understood by moiself, seems to have annoyed certain other people, who’ve then in turn annoyed moiself  by pointing it out:

“Hey, I thought you were right-handed?”

“I am.”

“Then why are you ______ with your *left* hand, huh ?!?!?
 (dealing cards; dialing the phone; picking your nose;
reaching for a second helping of asparagus….)

It was a nasty cut, requiring butterfly bandages. The amount of blood in one’s fingers is impressive.  And it never would have happened had I not had time on my hands, which led to blood all over my hands…

THE  CORONA  VIRUS  IS  TRYING  TO  KILL  ME.

*   *   *

Department Of Right Is Wrong About Left

“Speaking” of left hands….

* a left-handed compliment is not one you want to receive;

* “out of left field” means unexpected, odd, or strange;

* The French word for “left,” gauche, in English means, “lacking social grace;”

* The code of Muslim hygienical jurisprudence – yep, it exists   [5] – decrees that  “the anus must be washed with water using the left hand after defecating.”
( from Islamic Toilet Etiquette, – yes, the subject gets its own Wikipedia entry,) 

* The association of the directional left with evil is likely attributed to the dominance of right-handed people within a population…. Left-handed people comprise only 10 percent of the population, and the preference for the left hand…was attributed to demonic possession, leading to accusations of witchcraft….
The Ancient Celts worshiped the left side, associating it with femininity and the fertile womb. But beginning with the appearance of Eve on Adam’s left side in accounts of Genesis, the Christian tradition finds instances of the left side being pinned to immorality….
Sinister, today meaning evil or malevolent in some way, comes from a Latin word simply meaning “on the left side.” …biblical texts describe God dividing people into groups on Judgement Day, saving those on the right while those on the left are “cursed into everlasting fire.”   [6]

 In the 20th century, anthropologists and psychologists identified left-handedness as a biological anomaly, one associated with deviancy but that could be corrected away with behavioral reinforcement.
(The Left Hand of (Supposed) Darkness, Merriam-Webster )

* In the Middle Ages, lefties were associated with the devil and often accused of witchcraft, and even as recently as the 20th century, left-handed students were forced to learn to use their right hand.
( “21 Things You Didn’t Know About Left-Handed People” )

 

My father was once considered to be one of those biological anomalous deviants – a natural born lefty, he was forced to write “right.”

From a very young age I noticed that, besides his distinctive (read: hard to decipher) script, there was something unusual about my father’s handwriting; specifically, the process. He would never casually grab a notepad and pen and get right to it:  from a personal letter to simply adding an item to a grocery list, writing seemed to involve much more concentration for him than for everyone else.  I’d watch him as he would pick up a pen or pencil and  grasp it carefully, using an extra second of effort that was probably undetectable to most people; then he’d adjust his grip and make small, almost imperceptible circle with the writing implement before setting it on the paper.  He wrote very carefully and laboriously, as if some Higher Authority had given him A Very Important Task – ala transcribing the Dead Sea Scrolls – and he’d be punished if he made one mistake. Turns out, the latter was likely his (subconscious) fear.

I heard the explanation from his older sister Marie, on her one and only trip West to see her brother’s family (I happened to be visiting my folks during a college break).  My aunt and I got to chatting privately, with moiself  wanting to hear stories of my father as a child. She obliged with tales of his “naughtiness,” some of which I’d heard from him (e.g., ditching the school bus to go skinny-dipping in the river with his friends), but I was riveted by one that was new to me:  from infancy, as soon as he could move his quavering hands, little Chester Bryan Parnell would reach for objects with his left hand. That was “wrong,” of course, Marie said; thus; their parents would take the object from Chet’s left hand, put it in his right hand, slap his left hand ( so he would know it was the “bad side”), and admonish his siblings to do likewise. She said between the vigilance of his parents and his three older siblings, Chet had mostly been broken him of that “bad habit’ by the time he went to grade school – then the teachers took over and helped him to write “properly.”  [7

I was gobsmacked by this, but hid my astonishment – and disgust at the ignorance and superstition involved – from my aunt…as  well as her story, from my father, until I’d confirmed it with another of his sisters, Lucille.  Lucille admitted it, adding that in these modern times we all understand how some people are just natural left-handers, but folks didn’t know that back then, and Chet’s family and the teachers were just trying to help him do “the right thing.”

When I spoke to my father about his leftist tendencies he said he had only vague memories of being forced to do things right-handed.  To my surprise, he also said he’d become aware, later in life, about with the fact that forcing someone to use their non-dominant hand can have negative effects on brain development….but that it was too late for him to change “back,” after a lifetime of having his “cross-wiring” reinforced.

 

*   *   *

Department Of Wait, I’m Almost Serious

I put this out on Facebook this week.  I’m still waiting for offers from directors (and cinematographers, and actors, and….):

I’m looking for a film student and/or budding director to turn my fantasy into cinematic reality. Here’s my pitch:

“They whine; they pout; they never go out… It’s every parent’s nightmare – stuck in isolation with a QuaranTEEN .”

* “So, like, you stood in line for three hours to get TP but you forgot to stock up on Mountain Dew?! Thanks so much for raising me.”

* “You can’t limit my screen time – the CDC says it helps with, like, physical isolation…what are you, my parents or my parole officers?”

* “All my friends’ parents are letting them drive to Taco Bell because they trust them to like, help out with the family for food supplies and stuff. You’re the worst parents ever.”

* “I’m supposed to care about all the old people but we’re, you know, like, the future of the nation, and there is no grad night, no prom, no senior ditch day for us, and those grandpas and grandmas got to have that when they were our age and so now they think they’re suffering?”

* “Oh yeah, like, thanks *so much* for picking up the stuff in my room, but you put the remotes so far from my bed…”

* ” Only a fucktard would wear a mask like that, and you can’t make me….”

* “Dad threw away my Axe body spray and said I can’t use it until this shelter inside thing is over – he *wants* me to get PTSD!”

 

 

*   *   *

Department of The Corona Virus Playlist
The “Shock Rock” Edition

Alice Cooper, Ozzy Osbourne, and Marilyn Manson and are acts associated with the rock/heavy metal genre Shock Rock, which combines music with over-the-top live performances borrowing staging elements from horror movies, including special effects, fake blood, masks and body paint, and sometimes provocative behavior from the groups and/or lead singer.

Moiself  has listed some of those acts’ song titles which are IMHO, applicable to our social-isolating, transmission–paranoid, COVID-19 times, and which, in small groupings, imply a related story.

Brutal Planet
Freedom
Breaking All The Rules
He’s Back (The Man Behind the Mask
Hey Stoopid
I Love the Dead

The Dope Show
Coma White
Disposable Teens
Overneath the Path of Misery
Astonishing Panorama of the End Times

Bark At The Moon
If I Close My Eyes Forever
Paranoid
Schools’ Out
Welcome to My Nightmare

*   *  *

Pun For The Day

Billy:
“So, you saw a group of cats so numerous it stretched
all the way to the horizon?”

Sally:
“Yes, as fur as the eye can see.”

 

*   *   *

Department of Epicurean Excursion  Evolution  [8]

And here’s what I made for ours, one day this week

Featuring this week’s chosen Theme Day (Mushroom/Miso/Mustard Monday) and recipe:

* Mushroom gravy over millet
(chaperoned by Roasted garnet yam, scallions and cider vinegar salad; Mojo de ajo asparagus; whole wheat naan.)

My rating: 

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

Recipe Rating Refresher  [9]    

*   *   *

May you know your left from your right;
May you fantasize your own quarantine movie;
May you carefully judge a book, even an unwritten one, by its title;
…and may the hijinks ensue.

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!

*   *   *

 

[1] The authors of which, IMHO, are not-so-secretly hoping that they  too can experience the 15 minutes of fame experienced by the food blogger who was the co-subject of the movie, Julie & Julia,

[2] Which, of course, makes moiself wonder how that came about? If food bloggers somehow realized readers left after a paragraph or ten describing how they really weren’t interested in how your variation on hummus came your fantasizing about a trip to Morocco….or a critical mass of readers left comments saying, “Look, I’ll come back if you’ll just let me get to the recipe, please?”  If you’re curious as to whence its (the JTR option’s) origin, here’s the take from one food blogger, who added the JTR option (although she initially opposed it).

[3] I always think, “Oh,  like…dust?”

[4] Is that a word – if you’re ambidextrous, you are an ambidext? I’ve decided it is, and that the world needs this word. You’re welcome, world.

[5] It’s the Qadaa’ al-Haajah.

[6] Matthew 25:32

[7] Teachers would use a ruler or worse to smack the knuckles of any child who tried to write left-handed.

[8] A recurring feature of this blog, since week 1 of April 2020, wherein moiself decided that moiself would go themes as listed in the 4-3-20 blog.

[9]

* Abject Failure:  I’ll make a canned wieners & SpaghettiOs gelatin mold before I make this recipe again.
* Tolerable:  if you have the proper…attitude.
* Yep: why, sure, I’d share this with my cat.
* Now you’re talkin’: Abby the Support Avocado ® approves.
* Yummers: So good, it merits The Purple Tortilla Chip Of Exclamation ® !

 

The Judgment I’m Not Judging

1 Comment

Department Of One Of My Least Favorite Phrases In Any Language

Dateline: Wednesday circa 7 am; listening to Hidden Brain‘s rerun   [1]  of a 2019 podcast.  “Sex Machines: Love In The Age Of Robots,” is about…well, hello: title.

HB host Shankar Vedantam interviewed Computer Scientist/Professor Kate Devlin about her visit to a company that makes life-size sex dolls. In the latter part of the interview, Vedantam asks Devin about the dangers of people being in (translate: *thinking* they are in) a relationship – in this case, with a robot/AI doll – wherein there is no true reciprocity.

VEDANTAM:
So Kate, does having a lover who is completely dedicated to our needs
without asking for anything in return – is that actually good for us?

DEVLIN:
…I can see that argument, you know, the hedonistic thing of, you will have all your needs met, and you will never know…
what it really feels like to be in a proper human relationship.
It’s tricky because…
that might be appealing for some people
And who am I to judge if that is the case?”

 

Who am I to judge?   Who are you to judge? Seriously?

 

 

Prof. Devlin is (I presume) a human being. Choosing how we walk through this world and how we treat and interact with others – as humans, our whole life is about making choices. And choices involve making  judgments, from the mundane…

– “Should I get ranch dressing or the vinaigrette? Which do I think is ‘better’?”

to the profound

– “Should my partner and I have one or two children, biological or adopted,
or would we – and the world – be better off if we stayed child-free?”

– “Tommy, your friend Jason is bullying that new kid at school.
It doesn’t matter what Jason’s excuse is – it’s wrong to treat anyone that way.”

From the personal to the political: You judge this candidate to be more qualified than that one; which potential life partner to be a better fit
for you (and you for them)…. Who are you to judge?

 

“Holy non-conundrum, Batman!”

 

Let’s give three cheers and a bison booty shake for those who can discern between meticulous discernment and  (gasp) “being judgmental” – the bogey phrase that has become the go-to slur for times and situations which actually call for thoughtful judgement.

 

You want me to shake my what?

 

Who-am-I-to-judge is not only about a human being’s right but also their responsibility to judge, (to use a very important example)  that “cultural relativism” is dangerously naive – and ultimately leads to excusing and even propagating racist and sexist bullshit.  To do so, however, you must realize the difference between relativism and pluralism:

The fact of cultural pluralism does not present any philosophical problem to me, nor should it to anyone else.   It simply IS a fact that there are many different traditions of cultural life and thought.  Therefore, saying that I “believe in” cultural pluralism isn’t particularly illuminating or challenging; it would be like saying that I believe in the ocean.  However, acknowledging, accepting and even welcoming pluralism — which I eagerly do — does not require relativism.


Just as not all members of a particular culture – let’s say, French people – are in agreement on the doctrines or practices of their way of life (i.e., what makes a person “French”), not all people understand exactly the same things about the world in the same way.


Discerning differences and making choices are both good and necessary practices; it is wise to judge a tree by the fruit it produces.
There are valid criteria for testing or judging beliefs, world-views, or practices, whether cultural, religious, political, whatever. These criteria come from the various worldviews and traditions themselves, and are encompassed in what scholar Karen Armstrong calls the centrality of compassion.  Take any belief, worldview or practice and ask, does it lead to compassion and loving kindness?  If yes, then that is good (or at least acceptable).  Does it produce in its adherents certainty, self-righteousness, belligerence, and/or reality-denial?   Then that is bad.


I think a culture or worldview that teaches humility, gratitude, love and compassion and fosters equal responsibility and equal justice for all is “better” than one that justifies or permits slavery and/or inequality, or preaches fear and guilt or the domination of the majority by a plutocracy.

(adapted from “Robbiedoll-eology,” originally begun as a treatise
on my philosophy of religion.  Yep, I’m citing moiself. )

 

 

I will champion What’s Right ® in my own society and within whatever tribes/labels people want to put me in.  I will also not excuse discrimination – and racial/gender/class apartheid and genital mutilation and educational and professional marginalization, ad nauseum – perpetuated by people outside of my tribes, by saying I can’t judge them because I’m not “one of them.”

Some of the same people who opposed Apartheid (and by doing so they explicitly rejected the excuse that it was white South Africans’ culture – which it was – to believe that blacks were inferior and act accordingly) hesitate to criticize Islamist countries for those countries’  treatment of women and non-Muslim citizens – even to the point of slurring others who point out such discrimination, with labels like, “bigots,” or “Islamophobes.”

 

Oh, great – look what you made me do.

 

Yet again, I digress. Back to the podcast.

Prof. Devlin goes on to make some lame defenses of people (human doll makers and their users, I suppose) who want to shake up the

“monoheteronormative stances that societies impose”

(Yes, some people really talk like that).

 

 

 …then she gets back to the point the host was trying to explore:

Devlin:
“So in some ways, I see what you’re saying.
You know, is it a selfish thing to do?
Does it make us terrible people if we take and take and take,
and we don’t give?”

The non-academia-gook, human-normative answer, Prof. Devlin, is *Fuck, yeah.*

Assuming her question is non-rhetorical, if you don’t get it on a personal level…this could go on for way too long, to have to explain human psychology and emotional intelligence, so I’ll put it this way: just take a look at current corporate and political leaders, and note the commonality in personality traits among the most rapacious and dictatorial of them: they think (and act as if) it’s perfectly fine to take take take and not give.

Moiself  is not going to get into all the ramifications of “life-like” human sex companion dolls.  Given the history of male and female relationships, even the idea of these robots…well, it makes me wish for a sci-fi/AI revolution movie where the robots take over.  But here in non-cinematic reality land, such inventions will continue to be one more crutch for emotionally and intellectually crippled males to have even fewer reasons to educate themselves about the other half of humanity.  Why bother learning perhaps what is a difficult skill set for you –  interacting with women as equals, seeing them as people – when you can have a slave (excuse me; I mean, a Realistic Companion ® ) who will not annoy or disagree with or challenge you, or point out that your jokes are corny and your reasoning flawed…or who also will never, genuinely, truly, love and care for you, with all the messiness, ambiguity, joy and wonderment that entails?

Come on folks, get your judge-y on.

 

 

 

*   *   *

 

*   *   *

Department Of Memory-Triggering Fun With Pandemics

Dateline: Monday, circa noon. Moiself  was responding to an email from a friend who lives overseas  [2] . I thanked her for the much-enjoyed link she’d sent: a video made by to an amply endowed woman who demonstrated the perils (read: suffocation) of heeding internet suggestions to make a COVID mask from an old brassiere cup.

 

 

I’d told my Swenadian friend that MH was making face masks for us, using leftover material from the so-adorable-you-could-puke, “Itsy Bitsy Spider” costume he made (twenty-six years ago!), that both our offspring wore for their respective first Halloweens.  Swenadian lamented her own sewing talent (read: lack thereof), which got me onto the following subjects:

Have any of your talented family and/or friends sent you a mask they’ve made?  My friend LPH has been making them with special – there’s no other way to put it – penis-themed fabric. The cloth looks like a delicate, pastels-on-white pattern you might use for a baby blanket, until you get closer – which is just the point!  If someone is near enough to you see what the pattern really is, you definitely know they’ve violated social distancing guidelines.

I’m grateful for my craft-talented husband because, like you, I am not adept at sewing.  And I’ve no desire to be so, as it conjures up memories of discrimination and frustration.  I’m old enough to have been a junior high student when, in the eighth grade in California public schools, the curriculum required girls and boys to take a year of “Life Skills” classes.  Girls had to take a Sewing class (one semester) and a Home Economics class (one semester), while boys during that same year took shop classes:  Wood Shop, Metal Shop, Electric Shop.

I think it was just a few years later that the gender-specific requirements for those classes were dropped, and either gender could choose to take whatever during that year (although the social – even parental –  pressure, of course, still remained for girls to do one thing and boys another).  Then, years later,    [3]  MH, in a public school in Florida, was able to take a sewing class and, as he recalled, it wasn’t such a big deal for him to do so.

Interesting to think back upon that, and how a public institution was used to reinforce societal stereotypes (well, duh and of course, right?)  No matter what an individual boy’s or girl’s “natural” proclivities and/or interests might have been, the genders were each steered in different directions:  whether or not they gave a flying rat’s ass about it, all boys were exposed to and thus learned some basics of  carpentry/woodworking and electric/metal shop work, while all girls learned some basics of sewing and “home economics” – the latter of which translated into doing things like writing a recipe card for cinnamon toast.   I kid you not and I’ll repeat that: a recipe card for cinnamon toast.

Really. I remember thinking how it seemed so obvious to me that the Home Ec teacher had to stretch to fill an entire semester of curriculum. There was a lot of downtime in that class (which I didn’t mind because I used it to do homework for other classes).

While at the time I thought a sewing class could be valuable – and I do remember how to sew on a button and do some basic clothing repairs – the Home Ec class was a complete f***ing waste of time.  And I state that as someone who has just finished grinding her own chickpea flour.  My later/adult interest in cooking and meal design/preparation was in spite of that class, not because of it. Nothing I “learned” in Home Ec translated into my later interest in the culinary arts.

 

“I can’t remember, does your head go in the refrigerator or the oven if you’re dying of boredom?”

Is there anything so frustrating (at the 8th grade level) as putting a zipper in backwards, and/or cutting out fabric pieces with a pattern only to discover that you’ve also cut into a fabric piece, that, unbeknownst to you, was below the piece you meant to cut out, and so you’ve ruined the rest of the fabric for that project?  Translation: while I was learning to sew, I was also learning to swear. Now, decades later, I never do the former but (as you know), have mastered the latter.

Cracks me up – I haven’t thought of this in years.

Which means I’m probably going to blog about it.  😉

 

 

*   *   *

Department of The Corona Virus Playlist
 Joni Mitchell Edition

I still may do a 1970s singer-songwriters edition (plenty of talent to choose from, in the era of James Taylor, Carole King, Carly Simon, Dan Fogelberg….), but there’s no doubt that the talented if notoriously prickly Ms. Mitchell should share a list with no one.

Moiself  has listed some of Mitchell’s song titles which are IMHO, applicable to our social-isolating, transmission–paranoid, COVID-19 times, and which, in small groupings, imply a related story.

All I Want
Talk To Me
Be Cool
Blue
The Last Time I Saw Richard

Don Juan’s Reckless Daughter
Don’t Go To Strangers
Come In From The Cold
Court And Spark
A Case Of You

Free Man In Paris
In France They Kiss On Main Street
People’s Parties
Help Me
Lesson In Survival

My Secret Place
Night In The City
Nothing Can Be Done
See You Sometime
Shadows And Light

The Way It Is
The Same Situation
Trouble Child
Twisted
Wild Things Run Fast

*   *   *

Department of Epicurean Excursion  Evolution  [4]

And here’s what I made for ours, one day this week.

Featuring this week’s Theme Day  (Tofu/Tempeh Tuesday): Savory Marinated Tempeh,
(chaperoned by Celeriac/Carrot Puree; Lemony Roast Asparagus; Mediterranean Greens)

My rating:

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

Recipe Rating Refresher  [5]

*   *   *

Pun For The Day

I wrote a Broadway musical about puns. It was a play on words.

 

 

*   *   *

 

May you judge wisely, and often;
May you have one fond or at least fun recollection of the inane
academic requirements of junior high school;
May you devise and share your own COVID-19 playlist;
…and may the hijinks ensue.

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!

 

*   *   *

 

[1] I did not hear the original, or you would have had this rant a year ago.

[2] A person mentioned previously in this space as my “Swenadian” buddy.  Swenadian is a Swedish-Canadian combo. You figured that out, right?

[3] I am 5 ½ years older than MH.

[4] A recurring feature of this blog, since week 1 of April 2020, wherein moiself decided that moiself would go themes as listed in the 4-3-20 blog.

[5]

* Abject Failure:  I’ll make a canned wieners & SpaghettiOs gelatin mold before I make this recipe again.
* Tolerable:  if you have the proper…attitude.
* Yep: why, sure, I’d share this with my cat.
* Now you’re talkin’: Abby the Support Avocado ® approves
* Yummers: So good, it merits The Purple Tortilla Chip Of Exclamation ® !

 

The Staples I’m Not Hoarding

Comments Off on The Staples I’m Not Hoarding

Department Of Thoughts That Wake Me Up At 4 AM.

 

 

“Argyle is such an all-encompassing name. It’s not, my-gyle; not your-gyle, it’s our-gyle.
Can it get more inclusive? And in these divisive times,
could an item of inclusive hosiery unite us in…”

 

“Step away from the notepad ma’am; put the pen down; go back to bed; we’ll handle it; no need to write this down.”

 

*   *   *

Department Of Feeling Smug Should Feel Better Than This

Dateline: yesterday, circa 7 am; listening to the latest Freakonomics podcast on another aspect of the COVID-19 pandemic (“What Happens When Everyone Stays Home to Eat,” 4-8-20).  I was bemused when, early on in the episode, a “food economist” spoke of his concern to find (what he considered to be) food “staples” in short supply:

“So about a week ago, I had planned to go to the store early in the morning. I got up about 7:30 a.m. I thought, ‘I’ll beat the crowds.’  And I got to the store and was, frankly, shocked. There was basically no meat left. And your major staple foods — bread, pasta, rice — were largely picked over.”

Moiself  thought about* my* trips to the store recently, which have been just fine (other than looking like someone getting ready to knock off a 7-11, what with my mask and gloves).  There’s one type of people not panicking and doing just fine thank you, because our staples are those which provide plant-based, whole foods nutrition.

 

 

Now, by whole foods I’m not talking about the market[1]

“A whole-food, plant-based diet is based on the following principles:
Whole food describes natural foods that are not heavily processed. That means whole, unrefined, or minimally refined ingredients.
Plant-based means food that comes from plants and doesn’t include animal ingredients such as meat, milk, eggs, or honey.
A whole-food, plant-based diet lets you meet your nutritional needs by focusing on natural, minimally-processed plant foods.”
(Forks Over Knives)

My basket is full at my weekly shopping trip – full of fresh fruits and vegetables – and I’ve yet to encounter or hear of shortages in that department.  [2]    Like most people who’ve adopted plant-based eating, I know how to turn all of these minimally-processed, non-industrialized, “source foods” into tasty, nutritious meals. This is not bragging; this is reality-stating.

So, maybe this is the time to consider making some gradual – or drastic – changes in your life in this matter? And, unless you’ve stuck your head under a rock (or in a bucket of KFC wings) the past twenty years when it comes to reading about the science of nutritional health, your cholesterol, blood pressure and blood sugar (and waistline) measurements will thank you.  Here are some references to help you get started:

* Whole-Foods, Plant-Based Diet: A Detailed Beginner’s Guide

* Plant-Based Primer: The Beginner’s Guide to a Plant-Based Diet

* The Right Plant-Based Diet For You (Harvard Health School Men’s Health Watch)

And that is the end of this particular polemic.   [3]

We now return you to our regular inanity programming.

*   *   *

Department Of Silly Quote Of The Week From A So-called “Expert”

This inanity – or just a misstatement? – comes via the previously-mentioned podcast. The podcast host was talking about the effects of the pandemic vis-à-vis income inequality:

As in every crisis, there are some protections, some forms of insulation. Money is one. If you have enough money, adjusting to the pandemic is easier. You may have to wait in line a bit longer at the grocery store. You may not be able to buy everything you’re used to getting. Still, you’re going to eat. If you don’t have enough money, even feeding your family becomes a big challenge. The bureaucratic phrase for this is “food insecurity.”

Then we have this, from a “development and relations director” at Midwest Food Bank, who was being interviewed about the concept of food insecurity :

“There’s been a moment when we’ve all experienced food insecurity in the last week; the moment when we went to the grocery store and we were looking for pasta, or canned beef, or even toilet paper, and we saw the shelf was empty…. That pit in our stomach – that is food insecurity.”

Wait a minute – you’re talking about food insecurity, and she adds TP to the mix (and “canned beef,” yikes)?  Sure, a lot of people are   currently obsessed with/hoarding toilet paper, but I think that speaks to a different kind of insecurity.

 

“Alas and alack, ‘tis nobler to suffer your departure from this mortal coil, as I cannot procure the ingredients for our pasta-Spam-toilet paper casserole.”

 

*   *   *

Department Of Not-So-Funny In Retrospect

Dateline: A Monday or Wednesday, 8:45 am-ish, approximately three months ago.  A young-ish woman across the studio in my yoga class struck up a conversation with me before class, as we yogis (yoga students) were setting up our mats. My voice reminded me of a friend of hers, she said.  She picked up on a conversation two other students was having, about a sick relative unable to travel, and Youngish Yogi told a story about her husband, who had been home sick for a while but had recovered.

His illness started when he was travelling – I can’t recall the name of the country she said he’d been to, but it was somewhere in east Asia.  The airport where YY’s hubby was to catch his return flight had thermal scanners placed on either side of the hallways just past the airport’s security screening stations. Passengers, most without knowing they were doing so, walked by the scanners as they strolled down the airport hallways on their way to their flights’ gates. The scanners sounded an alarm when a person with a fever walked by, and that person would be given further screening by an airport employee.  People with fevers and other symptoms of illness were not allowed to board their flights.  [4]

 

 

YY’s husband was running a fever and was afraid that the scanner would catch him. According to YY, he figured that if he sprinted down the hallway past the scanners, as if he were late for his flight, the devices might not have enough time to register his fever…which is what happened.  She said he was miserable on the flight home and then for many days after, but that’s why he did what he did: he wanted to be home to recuperate, and not be stuck in a foreign city and have to seek medical care there.  “He was feeling so bad, and was so happy to be home,” she said.

Other yogis softly giggled in amusement at her story, and then at my response, when I cracked, “Yeah, but were *you* happy to have him back, in his condition?”

I continued to project geniality, but ventured, “Uh, gee, I sure wouldn’t have wanted to be the person sitting next to him on the airplane…”

Of course, we all had no inkling of COVID-19 at the time.  I just remember thinking how personable and nice YY seemed, and what a dumbass, selfish – and dangerous – thing her husband did.

 

*   *   *

Department Of Puns So Bad Even I Couldn’t Stick With It

Musician name puns; that should be a thing, right?  Apropos of nothing, I came up with five before I disgusted even moiself :

Instructions given to the “Heart of Gold” singer/songwriter as he was
about to be knighted by the Queen:
Kneel Young.

Jazz pianist arrested for destroying Liberace’s $50,000 candelabra:
Felonious Monk

Texas rock trio simultaneously beset by hay fever attacks:
Sneezy Top

Legendary heavy metal band reunites and hires
“The Flintstones” dad to be their drummer:
Fred Zeppelin

Fleetwood Mac singer/songwriter turns down request by New York b-ballers
to perform the national anthem at their next home game:
Stevie Nix Knicks

 

*   *   *

Department Of Yet Another Mystery Of The Universe

That would be the…uh, point…of this yard “decoration” pictured at the end of this post. Is it to represent, attract, or repel other deer? Is it a talisman of some sort? I’m trying to think of a culture in which there is an equivalent of a scarecrow, only in the form of a deer. And what kind of creature would a deer scare away or ward off, other than perhaps a neurotic Pomeranian or other yippee-dog?   [5]

I know the knee-jerk/go-to answer is, “Because they (the home residents) think it looks nice,” but, really?

BTW, the street where this Deer Sentinel house is located is the same street that was the subject of the Facebook post I made on April 2:

Best. Morning. Walk. Ever.
Dateline: this morning, circa 6:45 am. See that white thing in the tree branches? As I got closer I realized it was what I thought it might be: a person, facing east, wrapped in a blanket, sitting amidst the blossoms of a tree.
From a social-distance safe length away (the middle of the street), I called out to her: “Okay; there’s got to be a story behind this.”
The blanket-wrapped young (?) woman turned her head to look down at me, and smiled. From my viewpoint, she could have been in her mid-twenties to late forties. “This corona virus-isolation thing’s got my schedule messed up,” she said. “I was awake early, and decided I wanted to see the sun rise.”
(Looking around her street, I could see that the best view of the rising sun might be up in a tree, so she could see past the roof-line of neighboring houses).
“What the heck,” she added. “It’s better than watching another episode of ‘Friends.’ “
I told her I agreed, and added, “Carry on.”

 

 

 

Deer Sentinel House and Sheet-Woman-in-Tree House are right next door to one another, in what is an otherwise average-seeming cul-de-sac. I am not fooled.  There’s something going on there; some alien wormhole travel vortex or other, weird phenomenon. Perhaps I should contact SETI about this?

 

“Klaatu barada nikto.”

 

*   *   *

Pun For the Day

All the toilets in New York’s police stations have been stolen. As of now,
it appears the police have nothing to go on.

*   *   *

Department of The Corona Virus Playlist

The Ramones Edition
No, not just a Punk Rock edition.  The Ramones are worthy of their own edition.

Moiself has listed some of The Ramones’ song titles which are IMHO, applicable to our social-isolating, transmission–paranoid, COVID-19 times, and which, in small groupings, imply a related story.

Anxiety
All’s Quiet On The Eastern Front
You Should Have Never Opened That Door
You Sound Like You’re Sick
I Can’t Give You Anything
I Don’t Care

Bad Brain
Can’t Control Myself
Danger Zone
Do You Wanna Dance?
Bop Til You Drop
Don’t Come Close

You Are Gonna Kill That Girl
Here Today, Gone Tomorrow
Death Of Me
Bye Bye Baby

Gimme Gimme Shock Treatment
Go Mental
High Risk Insurance

I Don’t Wanna Go Down To The Basement
I Don’t Wanna Walk Around With You
I Don’t Want To Live This Life Anymore
I Just Want To Have Something To Do
I Wanna Be Sedated

I’m Affected
I Wanna Live
It’s A Long Way Back
It’s Gonna Be Alright

Needles And Pins
Sitting In My Room
Take It As It Comes
Tomorrow She Goes Away
Too Tough To Die
Why Is It Always This Way

 

Hey Ho, Let’s Go

 

*   *   *

Department Of The Things You Learn During Social Isolation
When You Have Time To Stream The Series You’re Supposed To Watch
Because It’s Critically Acclaimed

So, Phoebe Waller-Bridge, one of the creative minds (writer; executive producer) behind the disturbingly compelling Killing Eve, is the same person writing and starring in the reassuringly I-SO-can-cross-this-off-my-list, Fleabag?

Moiself  was only mildly disappointed, and not really surprised, by how non-interested MH and I turned out to be, after watching 1.3 episodes of Fleabag.  Ten minutes into the second episode we exchanged life-is-short glances and almost tripped over each other reaching for the remote. MH heartily agreed when moiself  announced, “I don’t care about *any* of these characters.”

I have learned that when a show (or play, movie, book, next-door neighbor, new in-law….) when a show markets its protagonist as “free-spirited, quirky, sexually active, but angry and confused,” that too often translates as “aimless, self-absorbed, vulgar,” and – worst of all, for anything marketing itself as comedy/drama – “tediously uninteresting.”

 

Is that show still on – are we having fun yet?

*   *   *

 

Department of Epicurean Excursion  Evolution  [7]

 

Featuring this week’s Theme Day – Wednesday Wraps – and recipe:

* Lentil-rice Koftas in butter lettuce wraps with Sumac Tahini Sauce (chaperoned by roasted butternut squash, lemon-garlic sautéed greens, homemade whole wheat naan)

My rating:

 

 

 

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

Recipe Rating Refresher  [8]   

*   *   *

May you be compelled by forces beyond your control to place a dozen
plastic flamingos in your yard before you would add one “realistic” deer
or other wildlife ornamentation;
May you wake up at 3 am with a bad pun in your brain and think to yourself,
“So, this is what she feels like, poor thing;”
May you never feel compelled to embrace the critical darling you in fact disdain;
…and may the hijinks ensue.

 

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!

*   *   *

 

[1] Although you certainly can find a lot of whole foods at Whole Foods.

[2] if the supply chain, farmers getting their fresh produce to market – is interrupted for a prolonged period of time, then we’re all really in trouble.

[3] For the moment.  You know there will be more…eventually….

[4] I don’t know what the parameters were; i.e., what was considered a further-screen-worthy body temp.

[5] In that case, the lawn ornament would be well worth whatever they paid for it.

[6] Boring, Oregon, is a small town (population ~ 2000) twelve miles east of Portland.

[7] A recurring feature of this blog, since week 1 of April 2020, wherein moiself decided that moiself would go themes as listed in the 4-3-20 blog.

[8]

* Abject Failure:  I’ll make a canned wieners & Spaghetti-Os gelatin mold before I make this recipe again.
* Tolerable:  if you have the proper…attitude.
* Yep: why, sure, I’d share this with my cat.
* Now you’re talkin’: Abby the support Avocado ® approves.
* Yummers: So good, it merits The Purple Tortilla Chip Of Exclamation ® !

 

The Tea I’m Not Drinking

1 Comment

Department Of Thanking Them For Their Service

Here’s the vibe I’m getting from listening to/reading interviews with nurses, doctors, home health aides, and other health care workers: They do not want acclaim and platitudes, thank you very much. They want you stop voting for sociopathic ignoramuses who don’t want you to have viable public health care systems in the first place.

 

Sorry; this doesn’t cut it.

 

*   *   *

Department Of As If You Needed Another Reason…

… to transition to plant-based nutrition.  Not to go all PETA on y’all,  [1]  but other than the:

* benefits to your personal health   [2];
*  your concerns re the significant contribution of
animal agriculture and meat consumption to global warming;
* the cruel/abusive practices of intensive/industrial animal farming and your desire to *not,* directly or indirectly, support such practices;

…how about preventing a pandemic or two?

6 in 10 Infectious Diseases Come from Animals
The CDC Is Most Worried About These 8
(  Article in Livescience.com 5-17-19 )

MERS, SARS, many influenza viruses, and now COVID-19   [3] – over half of all infectious diseases are zoonotic; that is, they are spread from animals to humans.

If humans stopped animal food production it would break the major link in the disease chain, via what scientists call the “animal-human interface” – read: the keeping and raising of poultry and animals for human food (“animal husbandry”), which allows for and concentrates “…pathogen movement from confined poultry and swine operations resulting in environmental releases and interspecies transmission…”   [4]

If you didn’t know about the health/climate change/animal abuse aspects of meat production and consumption, or kinda-sorta knew but didn’t care to do some research on the issues…. Well, we’ve got plenty of time on our hands now, don’t we?

 

*   *   *

Department Of Life Is Tough But It’s Even Tougher If You’re Stupid
Chapter 6 In A Series

I don’t UnFriend ® often.  I’ve done the -un thing, hmm, only one or two times that I can recall. One case was after I realized I’d accepted a friend request from someone moiself  didn’t fully recognize but figured was a high school acquaintance…then after some odd postings  [5]  on their part I did some sleuthing (the low-tech variety – I got out my high school yearbooks) and realized that, yep, we’d gone to the same high school, but I’d confused them with someone else, and…yikes.

 

Since when has “un-friend” been a thing?

 

Dateline: March 31. I get a FB message, don’t recognize the name, see a posting that consists of what appears to be photograph of a notice with the eye-catching titled:

“IN ISRAEL NO DEATH FROM COVID 19”

Golly gee, that would be good news…if it were true (which, of course, it isn’t).

This notice, in hilariously horrible, Nigerian-scam worthy English, describes the “super news”  of a “simple recipe” – a lemon bicarbonate tea –  which

immediately kills the virus completely (sic) eliminates it from the body….That is why the People of Israel is (sic) relaxed about this virus. Everyone in Israel drinks a cup of hot water with lemon and a little baking soda at night, as this is proven to kill the virus.”

 

Really.

I looked up the (supposed) sender’s FB profile.  Yep, went to my high school; is friends with several people I know; I can’t recall other FB postings or messages from her.  Poor thing; it’s likely her FB messenger has been hacked (and when she finds out she’ll be sending apology messages to everyone).  But, just to be safe, bye-bye for now.

*   *   *

Department Of Andrew Yang Was Right…But Sooner,
And For a Reason No One Predicted

“… we wind up automating millions of American livelihoods and then are left trying to figure out what the path forward is for those people, their families, those communities. What the pandemic has done is accelerate those circumstances in an incredibly compressed time frame where it has literally sent tens of millions of Americans home all at once.
I was talking about an evolving automated economy that would affect more and more of us home over time. And it’s become painfully obvious that putting money into our hands is the only commonsense solution to keep our families afloat.”
( “Republicans Adopt Andrew Yang’s Cause. He Isn’t Celebrating.”
Politico 3-17-20 )

 

* Over 15 million Americans work in tourism and hospitality—in hotels, amusement parks, art museums, and restaurants—making it the fifth largest industry in the country;
* Another 16 million Americans work in retail (which, 15 years ago, surpassed manufacturing as the country’s largest industry by employment);
* Over 20% of Americans work in retail/hospitality/entertainment industries, which were among the first to be shut down or drastically curtailed during the COVID-19 pandemic.

Lawyer, entrepreneur, philanthropist, and former Democratic Presidential candidate Andrew Yang, using statistics and economic models and forecasting, warned that in the coming years AI and automation would bring job losses for one third of American workers. This was a major part of the reasoning behind his proposed “Freedom Dividend,”  [6]  an economic stimulus and security plan widely misunderstood and knocked by people on all sides of the political and economic spectrums. And now….

“White House expresses support for immediate cash payments to Americans
as part of coronavirus stimulus package”
(Washington Post 3-17-20)

Check out Yang’s campaign website (which is still up), in particular his policy stands of The Freedom Dividend and Human-Centered Capitalism.

 

*   *   *

Department of The Corona Virus Playlist
Girl Groups Edition

Girl Groups was a term applied to the American female pop music singing groups of the late 1950s – early 1960s.  “The Supremes,” “Martha and the Vandellas,” “The Ronettes” and “The Shangrilas” are examples of the GG genre.

Moiself  has listed some of those groups’ song titles which are IMHO, applicable to our social-isolating, transmission–paranoid, COVID-19 times, and which, in small groupings, imply a related story.

Heatwave
I Gotta Let You Go
Nowhere To Run
In My Lonely Room

Reach Out And Touch
Stop In The Name Of Love
The Beginning Of The End
Where Did Our Love Go?

A Breath-Taking Guy
It’s All Your Fault
You’ll Be Sorry
My World Is Empty Without You
Someday We’ll Be Together

A Change Is Gonna Come
Comin’ Out
Come See About Me
Back In My Arms Again

 

Girl Groups recommend Beehive hairdos for TP, Hand Sanitizer, and all coronavirus storage needs.

 

*   *   *

Epicurean Expedition Evolution

The Epicurean Expedition was a recurring feature of this blog (from a year ago until last week), wherein I decided that moiself  would go through my cookbooks alphabetically and, one day a week, cook at least one recipe from one book for dinner.  It was fun and challenging, the latter via trying to adapt recipes from books I’ve had for decades and which were acquired before moiself became a picky plant-based eater.  Some recipes – in several cases, entire cookbooks – proved almost impossible to adapt while still being true to the spirit of the original (read: almost anything by Julia Child.  All that “buttah” – lawdy, Julia went well-lubricated to her grave).

 

 

In the spirit of been there/done that, aided by the COVID-19 virus-induced, Take On A Project ® mindset and social/physical isolation, I’ve started a new culinary adventure: differing dinner themes.

I’ve done dinner themes before, but never a different one for each day.  When son K and daughter Belle were younger, Friday was the theme day. For a few years it was Make Your Own Za Night, then Friday Fondue, each theme accompanied by what we called “Friday Bread.” (a homemade braided sweet bread with raisins – essentially, a raisin challah).  After our offspring fledged, Friday became just another day for MH and I.

The themes are listed below; I’ll start reporting on them next week, with a completely new, as-of-yet-unchosen rating system (I will miss the Hamster thumbs-up).

I’m giving moiself a lot of leeway in this new EE. Which day will I report on?  Depends on what recipe worked best or failed most epic-ly (let’s face it, epic fails are the most fun to write about).  The power to choose is all mine, mine, MINE, I TELL YOU.   [7]

 

 

Steelhead Sunday
Steelhead, the trout that thinks it’s a salmon, is my go-to fish (and plant-eater moiself still has fish once a week).
This day will be reserved for anything pescatarian .

Mushroom Miso Mustard Monday
Three alliterative ingredients, at least one of which will be featured.

Tofu/Tempeh Tuesday
Fairly straightforward.

  • Wednesday Wraps
    Crepes; tamales; pancakes; tortillas; tacos; spring rolls, dosas….

Thirsty Thursday
Soups gets a starring role on this day.

WTF Friday
Anything goes…including out to dinner (when we’re allowed to do that again)

Sushi / Spaghetti Saturday

Sushi: I hadn’t made it in years.  A couple of weeks ago, inspired by the isolate-at-home mandate (translation: moiself  had a captive audience, as MH and I would not be going out to eat) I decided to do some maki rolls, and had a lot of fun.
I’m going to offend sushi purists try different classes of fillings (all plant-based, save for the steelhead/salmon in the PNW varieties) inspired by different culinary tastes, from Pacific NW to Mexican to Chinese to Indian to Eastern European to ___?  The short grain, vinegar-ed rice (which is what makes it sushi ) will remain, although it will be brown rice and the type of vinegar will vary with the fillings.

Spaghetti: as in, pasta.  A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, moiself and a coworker with a Good Ole Midwestern Boy ®  background were talking about food during our lunchbreak. GOMB asked me what I would be making for dinner that night. I replied that I hadn’t exactly decided, probably pasta with a lemon basil…

“Spaghetti – you’re making spaghetti!
Why can’t you just say you’re making spaghetti?!
All pasta is spaghetti!”

The snideness of GOMB’s interruption indicated he thought moiself  was being pretentious when I was merely being accurate.  I knew I was going to make a pasta dish but didn’t know what kind of pasta it would be. As it turned out, I didn’t have any *spaghetti* in the house.  How do you say, “So, there!” in Italian? )

 

Who wouldn’t miss me? I’ll give two thumbs down if I’m not included in her new version of this project.

 

*   *   *

Department Of Yet Another New Feature:

Pun For the Day

This girl said she recognized me from the vegetarian club,
but I’d never met herbivore.

 

 

*   *   *

 

May you try not to “contribute” to the next (or current) pandemic;
May you remember that all spaghetti is pasta
but not all pasta is spaghetti;
May you offend culinary purists whenever possible;
…and may the hijinks ensue.

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!

*   *   *

[1] I have mixed feelings about the organization – alternately admiring some of their work and viewpoints while deploring some of their rhetoric/tactics.

[2] “Healthy eating may be best achieved with a plant-based diet,” is the opinion of a bajillion studies and scientific/medical journals, including The Permanante Journal,

[3] Like SARS and MERS, COVID-19 was spread from animals to humans. Public health experts think COVID-19 originated at a “wet market” in China, where vendors sell both live and dead animals for human consumption.

[4] “The Animal-Human Interface and Infectious Disease in Industrial Food Animal Production,” Public Health Reports, National Institute of Medicine.

[5] Read: batshit crazy political and religious comments/rants.

[6] A $1,000/month stipend for every American adult over the age of 18.

[7] I used to have more footnotes in this blog.

The Face I’m Not Touching

2 Comments

Department Of Reconsideration

“One of the reasons I do appreciate social media is that it allows us to connect with people we wouldn’t be able to normally…
And since right now that’s everyone, I am back!”
(3-25 announcement from a Facebook friend, who had announced
her hiatus from social media just last month)

Something moiself  is pondering these days: Amidst the warnings from psychologists about how social media is isolating us – a concern I have long shared – I’ve noticed that, in these times of self-imposed/government-encouraged physical distancing, social media usage is one of the tools keeping so many of us connected.

 

A fascinating dichotomy…and such deep thoughts, for a human.

 

*   *   *

Department of The Corona Virus Playlist
Surf Groups Edition

A genre of music springing from and influenced by Southern California surf culture, Surf Music had its heyday in the early to mid-60’s, then had a revival in the punk era. The Beach Boys, Jan & Dean, The Ventures, and The Surfaris are examples of the first wave (sorry), and The Surf Punks of the latter.

Moiself  has listed some of those groups’ song titles which, IMHO are applicable to our social-isolating, transmission–paranoid, COVID-19 times, and which, in small groupings, imply a related story.

* All Alone
* All Summer Long
* At My Window

* In My Room
* Busy Doin’ Nothing
* Locals Only
* Point Panic
* Drag City
* Shut Down

* I Get Around
* Don’t Worry Baby

* Come Go With Me
* Cuddle Up
*Island Fever
* Heroes and Villains

* Do You Wanna Dance?
* Kiss Me Baby

* Caroline, No
* Help Me Rhonda
* Wipe Out*
* Dead Man’s Curve

Fun Factoid: Only one of the five original Beach Boys (Dennis Wilson) knew how to surf. The rest were…not quite hodads, but they didn’t surf.

 

*   *   *

Department Of Calling All Nerds Geeks Application Designers:

Make me a phone-slap app, okay?  Here’s what moiself  is looking for: something to punish robocallers and/or telemarketers, who have this new technology which enables them to use someone’s else’s caller ID.

Have you ever answered your cellphone because the ID said it was your husband’s cell or your home phone number…but it turned out to be Rajni from Bangalore trying to approximate a Tennessee twang?  That annoys me to no end (the spam call; not the twang).  I want an app that, with a swipe of my finger, will send a shock to the call’s originating number – something that could be the equivalent of a slap across the face.

 

“And don’t ever interrupt ‘The Great British Baking Show’ again!”

 

*   *   *

Department Of Keeping Busy Mature Contemplation And Self-Improvement

 

Before.

 

In these times of social distancing, many if not all of us are taking the opportunity to work on special projects around our homes or apartments, or take on more extensive plans for what might fall under the categories of Personal Growth and/or Self Improvement.

These are good times for looking deeper into one’s own psyche, and exploring the basic human needs and wants that change as we age and accumulate wisdom and experience.  Moiself, for one, has already begun

* Re-learning the basic French I studied in college;
(Translation: organizing my sock drawer)

* Redesigning future vacation plans to account for
the increased carbon footprint of overseas travel;
(and what about my t-shirt drawer?)

 

* Updating my IRA portfolio and retirement plans;
(should socks be arranged by pattern, or color?)

* Researching community volunteerism opportunities
for when the social distancing requirements are lifted;
(if organizing by pattern, do the tie-dyes go near the argyles or the polkadots?)

 

After.

 

*   *   *

Department Of Helpful Hints

The Experts ® say we are supposed to wash our hands for 20 seconds, and that singing “The Happy Birthday Song” is a good way to time yourself.  Not over my sink, it isn’t.

I really loathe that tune.  When it comes to expressing birthday greetings to someone, my ditty of choice is the Mary Tyler Moore Show theme. As long as y’all don’t get all gender specific on me, who wouldn’t want to be serenaded with an upbeat song that expresses such life-affirming sentiments:

♫  “Who can turn the world on with her smile?
Who can take a nothing day, and suddenly make it all seem worthwhile?
Well it’s you girl, and you should know it
With each glance and every little movement you show it
Love is all around, no need to waste it
You can never tell, why don’t you take it
You’re gonna make it after all….”  ♫

Once again, I digress.

So, to time myself at hand-washing instead of singing the insipid happy birthday song, I have been soaping my paws while warbling two rounds of my childhood summer camp favorite: Scab Sandwich.  If you don’t know the tune, you could improvise your own; in case you haven’t heard the lyrics – and in that case, what kind of rock did you grow up under? – moiself  has oh-so-thoughtfully provided them:

Scab Sandwich: pus on top
Turkey vomit; camel snot;
Crushed-up eyeballs; monkey doo –
scab sandwich good for you!

You’re welcome. This has been a public service announcement.

 

 

*   *   *

Department Of Extreme Times Call For Extreme Measures

“… some face touching is almost automatic. For example, neuroscientifically, scratching an itch on your face (or anywhere else) is an automatic reflex, meaning you do it without thinking.
When you have an itch, it registers as a complex pain-like sensation. Scratching or touching an itch feels good because it temporarily interrupts the discomfort. When we’re in pain, our instinct is to withdraw, but when we itch, our reflex is to scratch, according to the American Academy of Asthma, Allergy and Immunology.

(“Why you can’t stop touching your face, according to science and psychology,”
cnbc, 3-21-20)

 

Officer, I’d like to make a citizen’s arrest….

 

Confession: moiself  can’t stop touching my face.

Like most people with seasonal allergies (aka, ”hay fever”), these  DON’T TOUCH YOUR FACE  admonitions are proving to be a bit of a challenge for me.  I think I’m doing it right/paying attention, and then, seemingly out of nowhere, it’s as if a stranger’s hand reaches out to scratch my nose or rub my eyes.  Perhaps I need to take out a restraining order on moiself?

 

 

*   *   *

Department Of Hope For Humanity

Harold:
You sure have a way with people.

Maude:
Well, they’re my species!

 

 

I persistently battle my urge to give in to My Inner Curmudgeon, ® and generally if privately (well…until now) think the average American has an IQ equivalent to their inseam length and an EQ no bigger than a hamster’s hemorrhoid.

(For those of y’all with a low IQ, EQ refers to the ability to identify and manage one’s own emotions, as well as the emotions of others, by utilizing at least three skills: emotional awareness [the ability to identify and name one’s own emotions]; the ability to harness those emotions [and apply them to tasks like thinking and problem solving]; and the ability to manage emotions [ including regulating one’s own emotions when necessary and helping others to do the same].)   [1]

However, following video illustrates why, ultimately, I like my species.  No matter how bad/silly/frustrating/batshit crazy Things Get, some people will do some things like this: In a store in Los Angeles, professional musicians Bonnie von Duyke and Emer Kinsella donned lifejackets, went to the empty toilet paper aisle, and serenaded the ransacked shelves to the tune of Nearer, My God, To Thee.   [2]

 

 

 

*   *   *

Department of Epicurean Excursion   [3]

Featuring this week’s cookbook, author and recipe:
World Vegetarian, by Madhur Jaffrey
Recipe: Chickpea Flour Pancakes with Crushed Green Peas and Cilantro

My rating: 

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

Recipe Rating Refresher  [4]

*   *   *

Department Of Advanced Psychology Tip For The Day

It takes so little to say, “You’re right; that’s a good idea,” and it makes the recipient (the “you” in “you’re”) so happy.

 

 

*   *   *

May you always turn the world on with your smile;
May you be on the receiving end of a serenade (with, preferably, an upbeat song,
ala The Mary Tyler Moore theme, and not the soundtrack to a disaster movie);
May you be able to stop touching your &%$!?#*  face;
…and may the hijinks ensue.

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!

 

*   *   *

[1] “What is Emotional Intelligence,” Psychology Today.

[2]  the song the ship bandmaster plays as the Titanic sinks, in the 1997 movie.

[3] A recurring feature of this blog, since week 2 of April 2019, wherein moiself decided that moiself would go through my cookbooks alphabetically and, one day a week, cook (at least) one recipe from one book.

[4] 

* Two Thumbs up:  Liked it
* Two Hamster Thumbs Up :  Loved it
* Thumbs Down – Not even Kevin, a character from The Office who’d eat anything, would like this.
* Twiddling Thumbs: I was, in due course, bored by this recipe.
* Thumbscrew: It was torture to make this recipe.
* All Thumbs: Good recipe, but I somehow mucked it up.
* Thumby McThumb Face: This recipe was fun to make.
* Thumbing my nose: Yeah, I made this recipe, but I did not respect it.

 

The Dinner I’m Not Hosting

Comments Off on The Dinner I’m Not Hosting

* Taking my car through the car wash;
*posting links to the Divinyl’s “I Touch Myself” and Joan Jett’s “Do You Wanna Touch Me,”
on Facebook,
and thinking of Way. Too. Many. other songs for the COVID-19 situation;
* hanging a bag of nut milk   [1]   to drain over the kitchen sink….

Someone has too much play time on her hands.  Girls and Boys, are you, too, practicing safe sex Social Isolation ® ?

 

Abby, my Emotional Support Avocado, who typically occupies the middle of the back seat (always safely buckled in – click it or ticket!), gets to play inside while I vacuum out my car.

 

*   *   *

Department Of I Was Not Prepared For This

Dateline: Monday, March 16. Email from my yoga class studio (my emphases):

…effective immediately, we will be limiting class sizes to 9 students. With this class size, the “social distancing”
between students in our classroom can be up to 40% higher than the CDC recommended distance of 6 feet.
Our Older Student Population
Because you are in a higher risk group, we are recommending our students
who are 60 years and older to please stay home until conditions improve.

Moiself  immediately began thinking most unyoga-like thoughts:  Ahem, and WTF?  When did I get into a “higher risk group” when I can keep up with the Millennials in class and seriously kick some yoga ass  [2]  in pigeon pose….

Fine. I’ll be a Good Citizen. ®  It’s funny to me, how much that frosted moiself’s butt, to realize that I’d been placed in a Category.  The next day I was still a bit steamy.  [3]  Perhaps I’m overreacting…

 

Ya think?

 

*   *   *

Department of The Corona Virus Playlist
British Invasion Edition

For those too young to wipe your own behinds remember, the British Invasion refers to

“… a cultural phenomenon of the mid-1960s, when rock and pop music acts from the United Kingdom and other aspects of British culture
became popular in the United States…. groups such as the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, the Kinks…and the Animals
were at the forefront of the “invasion.”  [4]

Moiself  has listed some of those groups’ song titles which are, IMHO, are applicable to our self-isolating, transmission–paranoid, COVID-19 times. At first I thought to list them alphabetically, but had more fun arranging them in groupings:

* A Hard Day’s Night
* Don’t Bother Me
* Get Back
* Get Off of My Cloud
* Inside Looking Out
* Long Distance
* Run For Your Life
* You Better Move On
* You Won’t See Me
* You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away

* Getting Better
* We Gotta Out Of This Place
* Help!
* Doctor Robert

* From Me to You
* Gimme Shelter
* Hello Goodbye
* Helter Skelter
* Here, There, And Everywhere

* I Don’t Want To Spoil The Party
* I Feel Fine
* How Do I Get Close
* Worried About You
* I Want to Hold Your Hand
* You Can’t Always Get What You Want
* You Can’t Do That
* You Really Got A Hold On Me

* I Should Have Known Better
* I’ve Got a Feeling
* Misery
* I’m So Tired
* Ventilator Blues
* Wish I’d Never Met You
* Where Have All the Good Times Gone
* Who’ll Be the Next in Line
* It’s All Over Now
* The End

 

*   *   *

Department Of Another Way To Get A Good Laugh In Stressful Times…

…is to do something really stupid – something that makes you face palm yourself (which is one reason why moiself  is a Frequent Flyer when it comes to giggle mileage).

 

No question, that’s the most pathetic flying metaphor we’ve ever heard.

 

Dateline: earlier this week, after an at-home (of course) workout and before venturing to the grocery store. I change from my exercise t-shirt to a non- less-smelly t-shirt and glance in the mirror.  I reach for my toothbrush to use as an eyebrow brush: when I pull a snug shirt over my head, my eyebrows get a little unruly.

 

Not Andy Rooney unruly, but, still….

 

A second too late, as I have placed brush to brow, I realize that moiself had applied a small dab of toothpaste to the toothbrush a couple of hours earlier, got distracted, and set the toothbrush down on the sink edge without brushing my teeth. Thus, I now have very straight eyebrows with a dab of minty white toothpaste in them, giving me that certain je ne sais quoi (as well as a minty/fluoride scent wafting from my forehead).

The thing is, I did both brows before I realized what I was doing.  The second thing is, this is not the first time I’ve done this.  I’d say my average is once every two years.  Upside: my eyebrows have never had a cavity! So, yeah, I’m not absent-minded, I’m participating in an important research program involving the collection of dental hygiene data.

 

Stand back, she’s about to try SCIENCE.

 

*   *   *

Department Of Rescheduling Fun

There were to be ten of us around my dining room table on Tuesday, March 17.  Even before our state’s governor (in line with CDC and other health organization guidelines) called for voluntary social distancing, my guests began to cancel.

Not to worry, moiself assured my would-be guests via email, we will not scratch our celebration. We’ll just postpone it until…until we know more about what’s going on.  Also, I’m assuming my guests cancelled due to their concern for public health safety, and not as a commentary on my planned dining table centerpiece:

 

 

*   *   *

Department Of Silver Linings

If something is good coming out of this pandemic it might be the concept of social distancing, which may come in handy after Whatever Is Going To Happen ® has died down.  Playing it correctly and not overusing it, you could artfully excuse yourself from certain tedious personal and professional obligations.  Y’all know what I’m talking about: that feeling of, “I’d rather stick a Tabasco-coated tuning fork in my eyeball than attend…

* another of my nephew’s ukulele recitals;

* our Homeowner’s Association meeting on proper dog-walking and waste disposal protocol;

*my boss’s latest attempt to mitigate his blatant racism, sexism
and homophobia by holding a pronoun sensitivity training session;

* my neighbor’s latest pyramid scheme lure   Amway/Herbalife/Mary Kay bait setting-disguised-as-a-ladies’-cocktail-party….”

Repeat after moiself:

“Oh, gee, I’d love to, but for the sake of community health,
and as per the advice of my ____
(doctor/psychiatrist/pedicurist/Mar-a-Lago online Medical School and Virtual Putting Green website),
I’m practicing social distancing.

 

 

*   *   *

Department Of Problem Solved

“…1,135 people have needed intensive care in Lombardy, but the region has only 800 intensive care beds….
As the COVID-19 epidemic expands and the disease progresses, (ICU beds) are in increasing demand, especially because of the breathing problems the illness can bring. Every time a bed comes free, two anesthesiologists consult with a specialist in resuscitation and an internal medicine physician to decide who will occupy it.
“In Italy, Triage and Lies for Virus Patients,”
NY Times, 3-16-20 )

 

“Sometimes extraordinary problems require a supernatural response.  Fearless prayers is what is needed in this moment.
Let’s all pray for a swift end to the coronavirus.”
( Tweet by Jentezen Franklin, evangelical pastor, whose online service #45 claimed to have had joined for the National Day of Prayer to counter the coronavirus.)

 

 “…(Evangelist) Cindy Jacobs…said God told her to create a global day of prayer to stop the virus from spreading.
(  Mother Jones online )

 

 

When there is a shortage of vital medical equipment, Those In Charge Of Such Things ® face agonizing choices (and remember, every day in this country, people are placed on respirators due non-coronavirus related accidents/illnesses).  Should these triage situations arise in the United States, I’ve got a solution to easing the shortage.  Yes, I hereby volunteer to be Triage Czar.

 

I’m just in it for the hat.

 

Here’s how I’ll do it. Short of being able to talk to all ICU admit-tees and/or respirator candidates in person, I’ll design a simple questionnaire to be filled out by the patient or their designated medical representative, to determine the patient’s category.

Category 1:
Conservative Christians (and even the moderates and some liberals) and followers of any other religions (and the NRBS – “Not Religious But Spiritual” folks),
particularly those who claim to “believe” in the power and efficacy of prayer (or crystal energy patterns, homeopathy, reiki, etc.),
particularly those who pray for cures  (for any and all conditions, from cancer to “gay-ness”) for themselves or friends and family, and those who credit
supernatural intervention when they recover from illness.

Category 2:
Freethinkers, Brights, Atheists, Agnostics, Humanists: religion-free folk
who hold a naturalistic world view and follow the guidelines of medical science.

How does this work, you ask?

Category 1: Y’all who put your faith in the supernatural, when you are admitted to the hospital you will be assigned a bed in the chaplaincy ward,
where you and the chaplains/religious /spiritual counselors/fellow believers of your choice
can pray pray pray pray pray.

Category 2: Y’all get the doctors, the medicines, the ICU beds, and the respirators.

Surprisingly logical, for a human.

You’re welcome.

Should be a most revealing data gathering experiment, if my advice would be followed and someone kept statistics.   [5]

 

 

*   *   *

Department of Epicurean Excursion   [6]

Featuring this week’s cookbook, author and recipe:
Wildwood: Cooking From the Source in the Pacific Northwest, by Cory Schreiber

Recipe: Apple-Cider Raisin Bread

My rating:

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

Recipe Rating Refresher  [7]

*   *   *

May you “put your money where your mouth is” when it comes to medical care;
May you always remember what is on your toothbrush;
May you have an epic playlist when you are in social isolation;
…and may the hijinks ensue.

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!

 

*   *   *

[1] Don’t have a cow, dairy industry – I realize that almonds do not lactate.

[2] Actually, kicking some yoga ass is not a thing.

[3] The day after that, all classes were cancelled.

[4] Wikipedia; British Invasion.

[5] Of course, many people of all worldviews, including the supernatural, will have an immune system up to the task and recover on their own.

[6] A recurring feature of this blog, since week 2 of April 2019, wherein moiself decided that moiself would go through my cookbooks alphabetically and, one day a week, cook (at least) once recipe from one book.

[7]

* Two Thumbs up:  Liked it
* Two Hamster Thumbs Up :  Loved it
* Thumbs Down – Not even Kevin, a character from The Office who’d eat anything, would like this.
* Twiddling Thumbs: I was, in due course, bored by this recipe.
* Thumbscrew: It was torture to make this recipe.
* All Thumbs: Good recipe, but I somehow mucked it up.
* Thumby McThumb Face: This recipe was fun to make.
* Thumbing my nose: Yeah, I made this recipe, but I did not respect it.

The Exhaustion I’m Not Getting Over

Comments Off on The Exhaustion I’m Not Getting Over

“I want my non-women friends to look at Elizabeth Warren’s trajectory and
understand how fucking exhausted I am, every woman is, today. Exhausted.
Climb every mountain, there’ll be a white man there already who
took the lift, and gets the prize.”

I feel this tweet in my gut this morning. I’d just insert “old” before the “white man”, because I’m ever hopeful this will change. One day .

I got this from a friend’s Facebook page last week and have seen it shared many times since.  It originated as a tweet; since I have yet to inflict moiself with that particular form of social disease media, I depend on the kindness of others to share the goodies.

Yeah, it’s been a couple of weeks…  [1]  and still I hate the fact that this nails how I feel.  Why does the glass in this particular ceiling seem like it’s made of titanium?

There has be a word for this phenomenon – most likely from the language that gives us terms like Schadenfreude and kummerspeck and treppenwitz. Maybe….

Screwdenfrauenpolitikscheisse

 

 

*   *   *

Department Of Things I Forget Every Ten Years

Why do I get excited when the census questionnaire arrives…and then am disappointed, every time, to see how boring the questions are?

     

 

 

*   *   *

Department Of Keep Calm And Curse The Pollen

Pollen, an allergy trigger for one in five Americans, is surging year after year…. A recent study in the journal Lancet Planetary Health found that airborne pollen counts have been increasing around the world as average temperatures climbed. The majority of the 17 sites studied showed an increase in the amount of pollen and longer pollen seasons over 20 years.
(“It’s not your imagination.
Allergy season gets worse every year.”
Vox, 5-21-19)

Dateline: earlier this week, at a grocery store.  One glance at the friendly checkout clerk and moiself can see that she shares something with moiself and one in five Americans:  seasonal allergies (aka, “hay fever.”)  Her friendly eyes are red, teary and itchy-looking; she is sniffling, and finally gives in to a sneeze, turning her head behind her and putting her face into her elbow.  The woman standing in line behind me sighs oh-so-loudly, which causes me to glance in her direction; thus, I see how she rolls her eyes in disgust and glares at the clerk as she conspicuously reaches for the bottle of hand sanitizer the store has placed by the checkout credit card scanner.

Although the clerk has finished bagging my groceries, I decide to linger and get chatty, in part to annoy enlighten Eye Rolling Woman.

Moiself, to checker: ”I feel for you…and I’m feeling it already.”
(I point to my own eyes and throat).
“Allergy season starts earlier every year, doesn’t it?”

Checker, nodding: “Yes, it does! And now, everyone is so paranoid…”

Moiself: “In the past few weeks, I bet every time you sneeze or cough you feel like you should have a neon sign on your forehead
which reads, “ ‘Hello – allergies!  They’re not contagious!’ ”

Checker: “Exactly!”  (she flashes me a grateful smile).
“I’m so tired of explaining it….”

 

 

Allergy season is here, America.
People, including moiself, are going to be sneezing and coughing.
Try not to lose your shit, and don’t assume every sniffle is an indicator of:

* influenza

* covid virus

* covert prius

* the heartbreak of psoriasis

* Ebola

* E. coli

* eHarmony

….and/or any other viral or parasitic infestation. Okay?

 

 

*   *   *

Department of Addendum/Apology re The Previous Department

I was thinking of the word/sound “flow,” from covid virus to covert prius to psoriasis, and meant no disrespect to people living with psoriasis (an autoimmune disease which, as Someone Who Knows pointed out, can be truly heartbreaking)!

I was thinking of that old commercial, wherein “…the heartbreak of psoriasis,” was used to promote an OTC medication (Tegrin), used for mild scaling of the scalp or skin, and which, like any over-the-counter medications, had no actual/beneficial effects in controlling actual psoriasis lesions.   But the alarmism of the commercial had the effect of getting people with just ordinary dry skin or dandruff to fear that they had psoriasis, and, as many doctors feared, it encouraged people who might actually have psoriasis to postpone seeking medical treatment and waste time and money on ineffective treatments….

Also, as MH pointed out to me: “There’s a whole lotta people out there who haven’t seen that commercial….”

Which I could take as a commentary on my age, but I’m not gonna go there.

*   *   *

 

 

Department Of Life Is Tough But It’s Even Tougher If You’re Stupid
Chapter 5 in a series

Advice is what we ask for when we already know the answer but wish we didn’t.
(Erica Jong, American author)

Not that I think people who request advice (in particular, from advice columnists) are stupid.  Far from it.

It’s just that, sometimes when I read a Dear Abby-type letter, I can’t help but think,

“No, really – we’re supposed to believe that you *don’t* know
what to do in this situation?”

I started reading advice columns when I started reading newspapers, which was…I can’t remember, but my father once told me it was when moiself  was in first grade.  From the nationally syndicated columns of yore such as Dear Abby and Ann Landers, and today’s Dear Prudence (slate.com), Ask Amy, and sometimes even Savage Love    [2]   and many more, I found (and still find) them to be one of the more entertaining (and sometimes educational) features of the paper.

Even the bad columns could be “good”  in some ways, as in the jaw-droppingly sexist, regressive (even for its time) admonitions of The Worry Clinic, by George Crane . The Worry Clinic (an advice column which appeared in my parent’s favorite newspaper,  The Orange County Register, and which I have previously trashed described here) had some excellent take away nuggets: mainly, that its consistently contemptible, anti-wife/anti-woman admonitions were a useful eye-opener for the budding feminist that was moiself.

 

 

So many of the issues presented in letters from advice-seekers – from dealing with the expectations of demanding friends, unreasonable workplace dilemmas, nosy neighbors, clueless extended family, partners disagreeing over sex-love-money-pets-careers-whatever – seem to me to have one thing in common.  What you’ve got is grown-ass people asking for permission from (supposedly) objective grown-ass strangers to make the grown-ass decision to tell people the truth.

Dear Moiself,
Blah blah blah blah blah blah something funny blah blah blah
something WTF blah blah blah blah,
and, I mean, really – blah blah, right?
I’d appreciate your perspective.
No real names, please, I live in a small town.
Just sign me,
She Hates It That Friends Are Calling Every Day

 

Dear SHITFACED,
First of all, thank you for the lovely acronym opportunity.
It seems seems like you already know what you want to do;
you just want a stranger (with credentials!)
to give you permission to do it.  Consider yourself permitted.
Moiself

 

And she wonders why her advice column career never made it out of space dock?

 

*   *   *

Department of Epicurean Excursion   [3]

Featuring this week’s cookbook, author and recipe:

The Way To Cook, By Julia Child

Recipe:  Steamed Eggplant With Parsley Sauce

My rating:

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

 

Recipe Rating Refresher  [4]

*   *   *

May you never be too emotionally exhausted to try and tear down the glass ceiling;
May you receive (and give) advice with good humor;
May you be patient with allergy sufferers (and grateful if you’re not one of us);
…and may the hijinks ensue.

 

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!

 

*   *   *

 

[1] Since Warren and Klobuchar dropped out of the Presidential race.

[2] Although I admire Dan Savage as a writer (and activist), his advice column, Savage Love  (subject: sex, sex, and more sex)  is not for the squeamish. Many is the time I have quickly scrolled past questions and answers as I – who would likely be described in his column as a straight cis vanilla middle aged lady – see things I would just rather not read about, thank you very much…and, eewwwww….

[3] A recurring feature of this blog, since week 2 of April 2019, wherein moiself decided that moiself would go through my cookbooks alphabetically and, one day a week, cook (at least) once recipe from one book.

[4]

* Two Thumbs up:  Liked it
* Two Hamster Thumbs Up :  Loved it
* Thumbs Down – Not even Kevin, a character from The Office who’d eat anything, would like this.
* Twiddling Thumbs: I was, in due course, bored by this recipe.
* Thumbscrew: It was torture to make this recipe.
* All Thumbs: Good recipe, but I somehow mucked it up.
* Thumby McThumb Face: This recipe was fun to make.
* Thumbing my nose: Yeah, I made this recipe, but I did not respect it.

 

The “Next Time” I’m Not Waiting For

Comments Off on The “Next Time” I’m Not Waiting For

Department Of Let’s Get This Out Of The Way

Even leaning-toward-cynical moiself got caught up in thinking, if just for a moment, that the person with the really good experience and résumé and ideas…

 

 

I have the Post-Super Tuesday Blues, as was somewhat adequately delineated in this NY Times opinion piece:

“This is one of the vexing realities that plague highly accomplished female candidates… women whose résumés outstrip those of many of their male rivals. They have been told their whole lives that they have to outwork and outperform the men in order to be taken seriously — only to discover that it’s not enough….

….consider Amy Klobuchar’s conspicuous irritation with Pete Buttigieg’s precocity. On multiple occasions she noted that a woman with his résumé — a 38-year-old former mayor of the fourth-largest city in Indiana — would never be taken seriously. ‘Women are held to a higher standard,” she said at the November debate. ‘Otherwise we could play a game called ‘Name Your Favorite Woman President,’ which we can’t do because it has all been men, including all vice presidents being men.’ “

Whatever your feelings about Mayor Pete, Ms. Klobuchar was not wrong.”

( 3-5-20:  Elizabeth Warren Had a Good Run. Maybe Next Time, Ladies.
By Michelle Cottle, NY Times Editorial Board )

 

This picture of Senator Klobuchar, taken during just one of the shouting fests from the South Carolina debate, made me wonder what she was thinking about.  Klobuchar later described her thoughts in the moment ( to CNN):

“…Steyer moved over closer and closer…to the point I thought I could actually get hit on the debate stage.
I was literally sandwiched between the two of them yelling at each other….”

 

 

At the time it happened, the look on Klobuchar’s face and her hands reaching out in humorous supplication – I read into that as her acknowledging the frustrating double/triple/quadruple standards faced by female politicians.  As if she wanted to say, “Can you believe this #$@!??!   If Elizabeth Warren and I were going at each other like that, can you imagine what they’d say about women in politics?”

“As for complaints that (Warren) was too strident or shrill or hectoring or inflexible, have any of these critics seen Bernie Sanders?  Come on.”
(Michelle Cottle, same article)

 

Maybe next time.  Some day.  In the future….

Guess now I have to channel my hope for a vice presidential bid for Warren, so she can take over when one of the Two Old White Guys dies while in office.

*   *   *

*   *   *

Department Of Favorite Poop Stories
Family Division

If there can be a Board of Tea Appeals (USA), an Office of the Swan Marker (England) and a Minister of Toilets (Japan), moiself can have a Department Of Favorite Poop Stories.

 

 

Dateline: a weekend, at a Southern California campground, on a family camping trip however many years ago it would have been when my brother was three years old. At that age my brother was housebroken, but still needed supervision in toileting matters since, like most toddlers, puppies, and the Current Occupant of the White House, he was not in complete control of his excretory system.

Early one morning my two sisters and I were out exploring various spots around the campground. My brother (RSP) stuck close to our family’s trailer, playing with some wooden blocks under a tree at our campsite, under our mother’s supervision (our father was in the campsite bathroom, shaving).  RSP suddenly pushed himself up to standing, announced that he had to go potty “RIGHT NOW,” and dashed toward the camp restroom.  Mom ran after her son, but nature could not be delayed.  RSP, realizing he could not make it to the restroom, stopped right where he was and pulled down his pants.

Right Where He Was was in a neighboring campsite, under that campsite’s tree, six feet from a chaise lounge occupied by a man who was reading a newspaper.

My mother shrieked for RSP to wait for her, but it was too late.  “Oh, no!”  Stricken with mortification, Mom wailed as her son began pooping beside Newspaper Reading Man’s campsite tree. “I am so sorry….”

Newspaper Reading Man sat upright in his lounge chair, looked at my brother, then up at my mother. With unflappable tranquility he uttered these now classic words before he just as unflappably reclined in his chair and went back to reading his newspaper:

 

 

 

*   *   *

Department Of What Are Your Favorite Words
Which Can Be Difficult To Pronounce?

“Rural” can be challenging, even for people with no speech impediments.  Even better is “wasp”, and even better-est is the plural:  wasps.  If you want to torture someone who has ever had a lisp problem in the present or past, maneuver the conversation so that they have to say, “wasp’s nests.”   [1] 

 

“ ‘The Meaning of Life’? I’m still trying to figure out who’s the jackass who put an “es” in the word ‘lisp.’ ”

 

*   *   *

The Social Media Break I’m Not Taking

Moiself’s niece recently made a Facebook announcement about how she won’t be posting on FB for a while.  In the past year I’ve seen similar announcements from people …not often, but not rarely, either.  Sometimes it is due to the poster’s stated wish to bow out from all social media due to time and/or interest constraints; sometimes it’s attributed to personal or even political concerns (e.g., antipathy toward FB’s privacy and willingness to bend over and accomodate Russian election interference political advertising policies).   As for my niece’s case, she gave more than one reason, and alluded to (although not by name) a phenomenon social psychologists have been studying:  social media envy.

You might recognize the feeling if not the label: we can’t help but compare ourselves – our personal lives, professional accomplishments, travel destinations, even what we had for dinner  – to those of our friends and family as presented online.

Human beings have always felt what Aristotle defined in the fourth century BC as pain at the sight of another’s good fortune, stirred by “those who have what we ought to have”….

But with the advent of social media, says Ethan Kross, professor of psychology at the University of Michigan who studies the impact of Facebook on our wellbeing, “envy is being taken to an extreme”. We are constantly bombarded by “Photoshopped lives.”….

Clinical psychologist Rachel Andrew says she is seeing more and more envy in her consulting room, from people who “can’t achieve the lifestyle they want but which they see others have.” Our use of platforms including Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and Snapchat, she says, amplifies this deeply disturbing psychological discord. “I think what social media has done is make everyone accessible for comparison…. In the past, people might have just envied their neighbours, but now we can compare ourselves with everyone across the world.”

(“The age of envy: how to be happy when everyone else’s life looks perfect,”
The Guardian, Health & Well-being column, 10-9-18 )

 

 

 

MH asked me if I had seen my niece’s announcement; we briefly discussed social media envy, and he said he sometimes felt the same way.  I admitted that moiself did, too.  Here’s a lovely post and pictures from friends vacationing in Bali, and here we are, pulling the massively overgrown weeds in the front lawn, scooping the litter box, trying to untangle the serpentine jumble of laptop, monitor and keyboard cords underneath my desk…

And yes, I can feel this envy despite knowing/assuming that people (including us, of course) are only posting “the good stuff” – a picture of their daughter hanging the framed First Place High School Regional Essay Competition certificate on her bedroom wall, and not one of that same daughter pouting in her room because she’s grounded for trying to vape her grandma’s NyQuil Nighttime Relief Liquid ® .

Perhaps, moiself suggested to MH, we could take it upon ourselves, as a kind a kind of a charity cause, to improve the world with these tiny steps: for every Smiley Happy People ® post we make, such as a picture of an interesting driftwood formation we encountered at the beach,  we also post a picture illustrating the mundane tasks that fill up most of our lives.  We could post pictures of us moving furniture from the attic back to the bedrooms after the new carpeting was installed. (But then, MH countered, we’re effectively announcing that we’ve gotten new carpeting, and some might be jealous of that.  True, I said, but we could also mention how long it took us to do that and what horrible shape the old carpeting was, and they might think, “Well, at least *we* never let our carpet get that pathetic….”).

For every picture of a gourmet meal I prepare, maybe I’ll post one of the breakfast MH has almost every morning: Cheerios and soymilk and raisins.

MH’s breakfast remnants. Feeling less envious already?

*   *   *

Department Of The Last Cow-Related Post…For Now

OK, I promise, this is the last cow-related blog in a while almost. Last week, after my blog post about the mini-cow pet thing, a friend commented on it, which led me to his FB page, which led me to another friend’s FB page where I saw a link to an article about why docking the tails and ears…

 

Explain to me again how this is cow-related?

 

Ahem. …which led me to another friend’s FB page where he’d posted a link to an article about why docking the tails and ears of certain dog breeds – of any dog – is a bad idea:

“Dogs are born with ears and tails. They should get to keep them.”

Dobermans, Boston Terriers, Great Danes, et al, with their ears clipped…Cocker Spaniels, Rottweilers, and Yorkshire Terriers etc., with their tails bobbed – even as a child I wondered about such dogs when I saw them. Certainly, those traits couldn’t have been “natural,” and I groused (until told by adults to keep my opinions to myself when it comes to other people’s ”property”) about the hubris of humans who thought they could improve on nature – or, worse yet – that they had the right to do anything to an animal for their own aesthetic considerations.

The professional dog breeding and showing bureaucracies have – surprise! – been bought out on this issue. With a straight face and in Times Roman font they defend these barbaric (“breed standard”) practices, even today:

“Much of the opposition regarding these procedures comes from a misunderstanding of why and how they are performed. Many believe that these procedures are painful, performed purely for convenience or cosmetic reasons and have no value. This is completely false….Each of these procedures is a safe, humane standard practice that serves a practical purpose, and in the case of ear cropping and tail docking, preserves a dog’s ability to perform its historic function.”
(“Issue Analysis: Dispelling the Myths of Cropped Ears, Docked Tails, Dewclaws, and Debarking”, The American Kennel Club)

Yep, you read right: having ears and other body parts amputated is a pain-free procedure – the dogs told us so!

It gets better, with the AKC’s justification of a dog’s “historic function”:

The Boxer…has traditionally been used for a number of important tasks including… seeing-eye dogs for the blind. The cropped ears help enhance the Boxer’s hearing, thereby helping it perform its tasks to the best of its ability.


Other dogs…were historically kept in stables to catch vermin…. Cropping the ears protected them from damaging bites when cornering a rat ….


Hunting and sporting breeds…often go into thick brush to track game. While some of these breeds have thick, strong tails…other breeds that have weaker tails…prone to injury when they run through thick brush or brambles.   [2]

In the same way, a docked tail on a terrier makes it stronger, which helps an owner more safely and easily pull these burrowing dogs out of holes….

 

Gee, the breeds most commonly used for guide dogs are Golden Retrievers, Labradors, Standard Poodles and Retriever/Labrador crosses, and they somehow manage to hear what they need to hear without having their big, floppy ears cropped.

The practices of ear and tail bobbing are cruel and anachronistic.  Education about these procedures is one way to stop these procedures.  Another way is to encourage people to exercise their right to choose when selecting a dog breed.

“Mutts are the Hondas of the dog world. They’re cheap, reliable and what nature intended in the first place.”
( Columnist Mike Capuzzo, quoted in a 1994 Time magazine article on the effects of over-breeding which reported that
as many as 25 percent of the 20 million purebred dogs in the US are afflicted with a serious genetic problem. )

We now pause for the well-known if oft-ignored plea for people to adopt mixed breeds. Others have made the argument more eloquently than I could, including here and here.

 

It’s time to go all judgmental on y’alls asses.

 

So, you think you really want a purebred Doberman, for breed personality or other qualities, not just “the look.”  Tell all Doberman breeders you contact that since you’ve done your research and know that tail and ear docking are purely cosmetic procedures that serve no health or behavioral purpose for the dog, you want your Dobie “au natural.” Then, stick to your principles and refuse to buy one from a breeder who will not comply with your request.

If you cannot find breeders who will honor this request, boycott that breed.  Really; just say no.  These mutilating practices could be stopped in one generation, if people would simply acknowledge their own selfishness and brainwashing by breeders (“This is the classic Doberman look!”).

 

Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.

 

Or if you are, for whatever reasons, attracted to that ear-docked look, remind yourself where that “look” comes from.  If, even after educating yourself as to the barbarity and total uncalled-for-ness of tail and ear bobbing, you still want to get a puppy from a breeder who insists upon confirming to the breed standard and performing those practices, then you need to take a long hard look at yourself and your values. And don’t “adopt” any pet more sentient than a dust bunny.

*   *   *

Department of Epicurean Excursion   [3]

Featuring this week’s cookbook, author and recipe:

Vegans Go Nuts, by Celine Steel & Joni Marie Newman
Recipe:  Pistachio Pesto Rice & Beans

My rating: 

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

 

Recipe Rating Refresher  [4]

*   *   *

May you never think a dog would be improved by amputating parts of its tail and/or ears;
May you be the proud protagonist of a precocious poop story;
May we all stop having to hope and work for a “next time;”
…and may the hijinks ensue.

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!

*   *   *

 

[1] Thanks to the podcast Curiosity Daily for the inspiration to remember a blast from my past. I had speech therapy in grade school for a mild lisp, and one day my fellow lispers and I tortured each other by challenging ourselves to pronounce certain words and phrases.  “Antithesis” and “wasp’s nests” were the winners.

[2] Well then, those breeds shouldn’t be used for such “sporting,” should they?

[3] A recurring feature of this blog, since week 2 of April 2019, wherein moiself decided that moiself would go through my cookbooks alphabetically and, one day a week, cook (at least) one recipe from one book.

[4]

* Two Thumbs up:  Liked it
* Two Hamster Thumbs Up :  Loved it
* Thumbs Down – Not even Kevin, a character from The Office who’d eat anything, would like this.
* Twiddling Thumbs: I was, in due course, bored by this recipe.
* Thumbscrew: It was torture to make this recipe.
* All Thumbs: Good recipe, but I somehow mucked it up.
* Thumby McThumb Face: This recipe was fun to make.
* Thumbing my nose: Yeah, I made this recipe, but I did not respect it.

 

The Senator I’m Not Speaking To

1 Comment

Since the Senate’s impeachment kangaroo court trial, moiself  has had a few weeks to ruminate on this…issue. I’m not speaking to this particular senator, because – well, for one thing, why would he listen to me?  If I had the slightest inkling that he would consider my opinion, I’d ask Mitt Romney to seek his party’s nomination for president.

I’d be upfront with him: Senator Romney, I’m not going to vote for you.  After the last three years’ clusterfuck of spineless weasels (the only Congressional mammal not on the endangered species list)…

 

“Hey!”

 

…and their internationally-recognized, shameless, ass-kissing and toadying mendacity, I shall never vote for a candidate who has joined (or has remained in) the Republican party – no matter at what level, from local to state to federal – unless s/he performed the most epic grovel in the history of groveling, explaining why they did not speak up and/or actively oppose #45 and his traitorous, Putin-sucking minions.

How your fellow Republican senators can still roam the halls of Congress – and do so without their aides having to haul them in slop-barrows specially designed to contain their festering, gelatinous excuses for vertebral columns – still baffles me. 

That said, moiself is not lacking sympathy for some members of your party who perhaps have been seriously intimidated and /or genuinely confused by #45 and his barbarian horde supporters. If these people are determined to vote Republican, they deserve a choice other than the traitor/huckster in chief.  So, why not you?

While you and I would likely disagree about so-many-if-not-every issue, especially those wherein politics and religion intersect, you were the sole Republican senator who seemed to take your duty and your oath seriously.

I realize that you are a politician, and likely value that power above all else –  even above the religious beliefs you credit for your political positions, as your stance changes in the past would indicate. Thus, I have no illusions to shatter should it turn out that your currant “courageous stance” was, at least in part, a set up for future political positioning.

How far to the right Romney has gone over the years has had a lot to do with where he was running for office and who he was hoping to reach. Romney’s less extreme side asserted itself in 1994, when he challenged…Ted Kennedy in Massachusetts and portrayed himself as a Rockefeller Republican.

Although Romney lost.…his Rockefeller Republican image served him well when he ran for governor in Massachusetts in 2002 and won.
As governor of Massachusetts, Romney was conservative-leaning but not extreme. He was pro-choice on abortion, and his program for universal health care in that state underscores the Republican influence on the Affordable Care Act of 2010….

But Romney moved way to the right when he ran for president in 2008 and 2012. Romney flip-flopped on abortion, pledged his allegiance to the Christian Right and the anti-choice movement and railed against universal health care…. It’s no coincidence that when Romney ran for the Senate in the 2018 midterms, he did so via Utah rather than Massachusetts….(as) Utah is much more conservative than Massachusetts…

( “Mitt Romney’s flip-flops: How the Utah senator has deceptively tap danced between being a reasonable conservative and a far-right ideologue,” alternet, 1-4-19

 

 

Still, you did what you did.  I thank you for it, even as moiself wonders why you did not publicly call out your fellow senators and try to sway more of them to do the right thing.

It’s ironic to me, that in a political body wherein the vast majority of the Republicans claim some Christian right wing and/or evangelical allegiance, and wherein each was required to take the following oath/affirmation, which referenced their deity –

I solemnly swear (or affirm, as the case may be) that in all things appertaining to the trial of the impeachment of Donald John Trump, President of the United States, now pending, I will do impartial justice according to the Constitution and laws: So help me God.
(“Opening Ceremonies: The Impeachment trial of  [#45],” Wikipedia)

…that of these self-proclaimed conservative Christians, who generally and historically have abhorred Mormon theology (and denounced as aberrant, untrue, and blasphemous), it was a Mormon who stood alone, doing the right thing.

 

 

*   *   *

Speaking of ruminations, can there ever be enough cow stories?

Department Of Life Is Tough But It’s Even Tougher If You’re Stupid
(Chapter 4 In A Series)
Sub Department Of You’re A Special Kind Of Stupid If You Think This Is A Good Idea.
Sub-Sub Department Of No.  Just, No.

There is a link I keep seeing on Facebook (unfortunately posted by a few FB friends), about what moiself fears may become the latest designer pet trend: mini-cows.

“No Joke: These Fluffy, Adorable Mini Cows Make Great Pets! “ reads the headline of the article accompanying the following picture.  “Woah…cows? How on Earth could a person be expected to keep a cow at their home? They’re big, loud, and pretty smelly too, right?
You would be correct about that if not for Lovable Little Ones, a specialty mini-cow breeder…. According to Lovable Little Ones, cows make “exceptional pets that demonstrate a great deal of affection, are very social, and are easy to take care of….” ”.

 

 

Look at those lil’ cows! About the picture: moiself has to admit, it is so cute it makes me want to squeal like a newborn piglet and slap that hog-faced MAGA hat-wearer I saw eating Twinkies ® at the farmer’s market.   [1]

It is *such* a cute picture, no denying it.  Now, can we look at the bigger picture?

As for the “no joke,” headline – I agree, this isn’t funny. If anyone out there is seriously considering this, please, even more seriously reconsider – to the point of consulting a therapist and having them do cow patty aroma therapy with you on a weekly basis –  should you even think about having a mini-cow as a pet.

FYI: I’m not sure if I’ve ever mentioned cows in this space before, and now, after last week’s  screed concise yet heartfelt presentation of the dairy cow dilemma, two weeks in a row of bovine blog bits? Trust moiself, this is coincidence and not conspiracy.

So, moooooving right along….

 

“What the….”

Sorry.

Mini-cows. I don’t get who comes up with these ideas. Someone has an interest in animals, a bit of time on their hands (and dollar $ign$ in their eye$?), and says to themselves,

“Selves, what can we do? Maybe we could work with existing animal welfare organizations to reduce animal suffering in, oh, say exposing the horrors of industrial farming, reversing habitat degradation which leads to species extinction….
Nope, that doesn’t interest us. We like pets. OK, let’s work for ways to reduce the surplus pet population (1.5 million shelter animals are euthanized each year in the USA  [2]  ), increase spay and neutering options and availability, and find responsible and loving homes for the animals that already exist….

 

 

MYOB and STFU, Martha; we’ve got a better idea.
Let’s take an ungulate mammal – which in 10,500 years of domestication has never been used as a companion animal – and use our knowledge of genetics and selective breeding to scale ‘em down and create a whole new market of “pets.”

The following is from the website of Lovable Little Ones, the farm business blamed credited with starting the trend. On the home page of the site there is a seven-point bullet list titled, Why Miniature Cows? Here are three of the bullet point list’s “answers” I found to be most notable and telling (and primarily aimed at potential mini-cow breeders?):

* Miniature Cows are great tax write-offs for the small acreage farmer.
* Miniature cattle can easily pay for themselves through the sale of calves and potential tax write-offs.
* Miniature Cows can be a great business opportunity. Demand for good quality miniature cows is very high. I currently have a waiting list that extends into 2021….

Yep. Gotcha.

 

 

Hey, it’s not all bad. You can size a cow down, but it will still be a ruminant with a four-chambered stomach whose nutritional requirements equal prodigious intake of fodder resulting in prodigious stool production. Translation: Mini-cow’s crap will not be so mini.

Petty little moiself adores the image that comes to mind:  the clueless/ arrogant (or even well-meaning) suburbanite with a big backyard who is the first in her neighborhood to have a mini-cow. There she is, taking her mini-cow out for a walk, nodding in greeting to dog owners, the latter tipping their metaphorical hats to her as they pass on the sidewalk, the dog owners each holding one bag of dung swinging from their grasp, she struggling to juggle eight bags of cow crap (plus her “mini” scooping shovel) ….

 

And don’t think you’ll get away with saying, “Not me – that was must have been someone else’s cow!” if your neighbors accuse you of being remiss in your scooping.

 

So, good luck with that, y’all. 

But I don’t need to wish *you* good luck, because *you* will have the good sense not to purchase one of these vanity symbols/playthings creatures, right?  As for the breeders, come on, Lovable Little Ones (and other mini-cow sellers, actual or potential) – consider the moniker you chose for your business; then pretend, if necessary, that you really do love those little ones, and don’t create them in the first place.  Put yourself out of this exploitative business.

If you really think it benefits humanity to have yet another designer animal variant, you need to talk with Wally Conron, creator of the Labradoodle:

The inventor of the labradoodle, the ubiquitous, mop-headed designer dog, said that creating the mixed breed was one of his life’s regrets.
Wally Conron, who has been credited with sparking a crossbreeding frenzy resulting in shih poos, puggles and more, said the labradoodle was originally intended as a guide dog….
“I bred the labradoodle for a blind lady whose husband was allergic to dog hair,” Mr. Conron said. “Why people are breeding them today, I haven’t got a clue….I find that the biggest majority (of the doddle-dogs) are either crazy or have a hereditary problem…I’ve done a lot of damage…I’ve created a lot of problems.”
(Conron) said that unscrupulous people setting up “horrific” puppy mills, and backyard breeders who were breeding for bucks, were to blame for producing a glut of unstable dogs that would eventually be euthanized.
In an interview with Psychology Today… Mr. Conron acknowledged that the “doodle” name was “a gimmick” that went global.
“People ask me, ‘Aren’t you proud of yourself?’ I tell them: ‘No! Not in the slightest.’ I’ve done so much harm to pure breeding and made many charlatans quite rich.  I wonder, in my retirement, whether we bred a designer dog — or a disaster!”

(Labradoodle Creator Says the Breed Is His Life’s Regret: “I opened a Pandora box and released a Frankenstein monster,” said Wally Conron,
who developed the mop-headed dog.  NY Times, 9-25-19 )

 

 

*   *   *

Department Of We Are Lost, Hopelessly Lost

As the reality of the latest pandemic sets in, the world’s political leaders realize the need to consult with and empower the world’s greatest scientific/public health minds to coordinate strategy. Meanwhile, in the USA:

Donald Trump picks Mike Pence
to head government response to coronavirus.
( Headlines in newspapers across the nation, 2-26-20)

 

“Time for a quick reality check. Despite the hysteria from the political class and the media, smoking doesn’t kill.”
( [then] Congressman Mike Pence, in his op-ed “The Great American Smoke-Out,”  )

 

 

*   *   *

Department Of, I Guess It’s Enough That *We* Will Know It’s There…
But, Seriously?

Last week MH and I had our home’s upstairs carpeting replaced.  We (of course) chose the style/brand/color of the new new carpet, then just agreed with flooring store’s recommended carpet padding.  Come installation time, I’d no idea we would be getting a “woke” padding; i.e., one with a mission (or at least a message):

 

 

*   *   *

 

Department of Epicurean Excursion   [3]

Featuring this week’s cookbook, author and recipe:

Vegan Slow Cooking: For Two or Just For You, by Kathy Hester

Recipe:  Green Beans with Black Bean Sauce with Tofu

My rating:

 

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

Recipe Rating Refresher  [4]

*   *   *

May you massively reject mini-cows;
May you wonder what charitable causes *your* carpet pad is supporting;
May you continue to speak to leaders who may or may not listen;
…and may the hijinks ensue.

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!

*   *   *

 

[1] You have your illustrations of cuteness, and I have mine.

[2] As per ASPCA statistics.

[3] A recurring feature of this blog, since week 2 of April 2019, wherein moiself decided that moiself would go through my cookbooks alphabetically and, one day a week, cook (at least) once recipe from one book.

[4]

* Two Thumbs up:  Liked it
* Two Hamster Thumbs Up:  Loved it
* Thumbs Down – Not even Kevin, a character from The Office who’d eat anything, would like this.
* Twiddling Thumbs: I was, in due course, bored by this recipe.
* Thumbscrew: It was torture to make this recipe.
* All Thumbs: Good recipe, but I somehow mucked it up.
* Thumby McThumb Face: This recipe was fun to make.
* Thumbing my nose: Yeah, I made this recipe, but I did not respect it.

 

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