The Multiverse and Me or, The Multiverse and Me and Me and Me…

I’m a science fiction fan and I like watching the occasional documentary on quantum physics, cosmology, and the nature of reality. I have a shelf of half read books on those same subjects. For some reason, usually around page 150, the explanation for the laity ends and the sentence “This is the paper I submitted to the Nobel Committee.” rears its ugly head. It’s all equations with Greek letters and horrid nightmares of high school Calculus come rushing back.

I’m no mathematician. I accept that. I do find that stuff interesting though.

One of the most interesting is the theory that each choice you make spawns one or many alternate universes. Every possibility must happen. If I turn left there is a universe where I turn right. There’s also one were I hit a tree, stall out, have a heart attack, just sit there for no reason until I starve to death, etc. They all happen.

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If You Haven’t Been Reading the Charles C.W. Clarke Posts About Rebekah Jones, You Are Denying Yourself Immense Pleasure

If you are unfamiliar with Rebekah Jones, she’s the alleged whistleblower who claimed she was pressured to “fudge” (her word) the Florida COVID numbers in order to make Governor Ron DeSantis look good on a national stage. As Cooke ably points out, her claim is nonsense on stilts.

It was noted that the knives were out on DeSantis before the Wuhan Flu emerged from the lab or wet market or whatever. He did far better with minorities than a Republican is allowed to do and if he were able to take his electoral alchemy national he’d be a damn good bet for the Presidency. The Democrats can’t abide anyone leaving their plantation so he had to be taken down.

She gave the Left something they had no power to resist. She gave them exactly what they wanted to hear.

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I Really Don’t Curse All That Much, But Honestly, What the Heck Is Going On With This Fauci Guy?

I just like this painting. It has nothing to do with the article.
I just like this painting. It has nothing to do with the text. It’s pretty though, isn’t it?

I try not to use curse words when I write because I think it diminishes the message. That’s not the case today. Expect “dickbag,” “fucktard,” and “asshat” and multiple variations of such to pepper this post. I read the Nicholas Wade article. Fuck Fouci. Fuck that little fucking bastard.

Imagine the nerve of that little shit. First he says don’t wear masks. Then he says wear a mask. Then the ungovernable ego of that eternal jackass says wear two masks. Two of those statements tell me that masks don’t work, but whatever. This shitbag likes his TV (television) time and won’t let go. He even went to the NY Times and said he was lying about how to deal with the Wuhan Flu and still gets air time. Fuck this guy and his endless power grab dipshittery.

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RollBamaRoll Tailgating: Not Late This Time

I posted over at the rah rah football site which is today a rah rah basketball site. Weird how a little success in bouncy hoopty ball will turn even a basketball illiterate like me into a fan. Well played Coach Oats.

Basketball has been the purview of my wife, she of the Duke diploma. (Whispered voice, very whispered. “How is Duke doing in the tournament this year?”)

I’ve always kind of liked UCLA. Never had reason not to. Suddenly I feel a wave of libelous slander and unkind words bursting forth for no reason other than those bastards stand between my beloved Crimson Tide and the Elite Eight.

6:15 CT on TNT. Roll Tide.

A Catholic Teen Confronts the Reformation and Leviathan a Month Before Confirmation

I bought the first collection of Calvin and Hobbes for my sons. The oldest, seeing that it was a comic about a child and his imaginary, or at least stuffed but imaginary, friend was not impressed. His fourteen year old ego took it as an afront that his father would press upon him a children’s story.

He saw the art and assumed that it was a kid’s book and turned his nose up.

While on the way to a restaurant I made him read it. He couldn’t stop laughing. Now he wants more.

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Sunday Musings – Updated as the Day Goes

I’m getting a bit pissed at Twitter today. There are too many responses to anyone calling attention to and objecting to mask mandates that boil down to one or another variation of how easy it is to get along with minimal interaction – use a delivery service for food or booze or whatever in order to reduce your possible contact with what we are increasingly viewing as vectors for disease rather than fellow humans. Stop complaining and embrace the new normal.

Do these people realize that to mitigate their own risk they are saying “Pay poor people to do it?” I think it’s reprehensible, but not intentional. I don’t think the risk averse think about what they are paying for.

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Improbable Tomato Sauce that Sounds Too Simple to Work and Other Sunday Afternoon Stuff

  • 28 ounces canned plum tomatoes, with their juices and torn apart by hand
  • 1 yellow onion, don’t worry about its size
  • 5 T unsalted butter
  • Salt to taste

This is a recipe that the well versed tomato sauce maker will look at and scoff. I didn’t believe it but it came from a Marcella Hazan (her name be praised) cookbook so it was invested with hours upon years of good will, so I gave it a try. In one sense it’s amazing. In another it’s a disappointment.

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