Gasbags

Biden’s handlers are trying to tank the economy.

I can see no other explanation. And, by the way, they are doing a hell of a job at it.

Why, unless you wanted to damage the U.S., would you limit domestic energy production in favor of imports while importing enough so that we use the same quantities as before? There were mumblings about satisfying the green energy constituency but that only works if the green energy folks are satisfied by theater and empty gestures, a possibility I’m not dismissing offhand.

We are using the same amount of energy as before, it’s just more expensive because of the costs associated with imports. It may be that the green energy lobby is so stupid as to believe that fossil fuels from Russia or one of the OPEC nations is less harmful to the environment because they can’t see the sausage being made nearby. There’s precedence for that. They think that electric powered cars are cleaner when the likelihood is that that electricity is created using natural gas or coal. If you can’t see it, it doesn’t happen.

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I’m a Bad Web Person

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I’ve been a terrible host, neglecting my duties here as I galivant about the web trash spouting out about poetry, the Beatles, and Maus.

I’ve linked to what I’ve been up to since my last post below.

I’m having a great time with a Friday feature over at ordinary-times.com called POETS Day. That’s an anacronym for Piss Off Early, Tomorrow’s Saturday.

I start with a scheme to fool your boss and get you out of work early so you can jump start your afternoon and hit the happy hour specials asap and the throw in a story of what at least I think of interest followed by a poem with some commentary on the work.

Honestly, it’s fun. I’ve written a few other non-poetry related stuff over the last few months. If you want to dive in, the links are below.

POETS DAY: Robert Herrick and the Virgins That He Thinks Need To Hurry Up And, Well…

POETS Day: James Matthew Wilson’s XIII from The Hanging God

POETS Day: Chaucer’s Prologue and High School

POETS Day: Truman Capote’s A Christmas Memory

POETS Day: Rudyard Kipling and a Very Unlucky Jack

POETS Day: The Shakespearean Sonnet Edition, #XIX

POETS Day: The Clive James Fury Edition

We Should Unfix the College Football Postseason: A Rebuttal

POETS Day: Let’s Talk About Emily Dickenson

You Think You Know a Band: observations On The Beatles and Peter Jackson’s Get Back

POETS Day: Poe, Poe, Pitiful Me

Maus and The “Ban”

POETS Day: Gerard Manley Hopkins and Near Perfection

POETS Day: The Second Oxford Expedition by W.H. Auden

WordPress is messed up and not just because their editing software underlines wordpress as a misspelling. Up above you’ll see that sometimes a sentence is blue for the link and sometimes a letter. I highlighted the whole sentence every time and set the link and sometimes it worked and sometimes it just took a word or two. I quit trying to make it work. Sorry.

I’m going to try to be more punctual (read attentive) in the future about populating this site, even if it’s with stuff from other sites I write for.

Cecil Hurt of The Tuscaloosa News

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Today, in a moment of pique during the game, I may say something bad about Auburn, but I won’t mean it. The flowers and picture of Cecil Hurt in the press box was a nice gesture. Alabama fans appreciate it.

I never met Hurt, but I was behind him in line to give condolences to the mother of a friend who died far too early. The deceased suffered from a cancer that came and went over the course of ten years giving cruel hope now and then though we all knew the end was assured. I didn’t know what to say to his mom. Hurt did.

He was brief, kind, and assuring. I hope there is someone of his caliber at his funeral to give proper condolences.

I thought about that moment often when I read his work. On the page he was droll and cutting. The man I saw was gracious. He’ll be missed.  

Godspeed.

What if We Ignored Biden’s Vaccine Mandate?

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On the surface the thing makes no sense. All employees working for a company that employs one hundred pr more people must be vaccinated or endure twice weekly testing for Wuhan. No explanation is given for why the magic number is one hundred. Apparently if you work with ninety-eight others you are fine but the addition of a parking attendant puts the whole operation at risk.

The argument for vaccination is odd on it’s face: “You have to get the vaccine that keeps me from getting sick so you don’t get me sick.” And keep wearing masks and distancing. It’s not terribly convincing, especially when we are looking at an unfolding litany of corrective boosters with no end in sight. But that’s besides the point.

Biden is just the President. He has no power to decide what we do. He is not the legislature. He is not the Supreme Court. He is charged with executing the will of the people as expressed through Congress. If he told us we all had to paint our front doors blue, would we? This mandate carries as much legal power.

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You Meet The DMV First.

The greatest of all government screw ups happened today. I took my son to get his learner’s driving permit.

Two days ago I called and asked to set up an appointment and was told that those are no longer necessary, so when we walked in and were asked if we had an appointment I was a bit taken aback.

“No, I called and they said we didn’t need one.” I said.

A loud woman incapable of eye contact told me that they were only giving permit tests to kids with appointments. “But I called and was told I didn’t need one.”

That seemed a simple matter for me to bring up. “No. You need to make appointments online.” she said, staring off into the ether.

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Hotel Paradise

The Pretender in-Chief told us his approval of the unelected bureaucrat’s edict that decided we have no more property rights was unconstitutional. He stated that evictions and the erasure of property rights was okay anyway because he figured that it would take a few weeks before the lawyers got to the Supreme Court to make the case that he made about the unconstitutionality. They did tell him, again, that he has no reign over such things. But he knew that. So why not again?

Why doesn’t this asshat declare property rights off limits every few weeks? He’d get his absurd way with no rule of law standing in opposition until the lawyers got their briefs together and showed once again what asshat already said: that he was breaking the law. He could do this every so often as long as he makes sure to exert his dictatorial wish before rent day. Apparently there is no repercussion.

Can I do this at a hotel? Is the elimination of use per fee so absolute that I could book the Four Seasons for a week or two with no expectation of being sent packing?  What about room service? Is that included or am I reaching past my fair use of other’s property?

This jackass has benefitted from his disaster on the Afghan front, which distracted from his disaster on the southern border, which is distracting from his disaster on the plague messaging front, which is distracting from decision to make himself judicial, legislative, and executive, all in one empty suit.

Notes and Nonsense

– This is why I should never be put on a jury. I’d hand the keys of the company and just about every asset of every employee involved over to this couple out of rage and fury, and that’s not actual justice. But they sure as hell deserve something. – ‘It has to be known what was done to us’: Natick couple harassed by eBay tell their story for the first time – The Boston Globe

– I rarely read City Journal and kick myself for my failure to keep up with them every time I do. From Lee Siegel, a long article but worth the time: “He writes that amour propre represents “a demand on others that they think better of us than they think of themselves.” That seems, in the current moment, just about right.” – Year Zero | City Journal (city-journal.org)

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You Can’t Make This Up

Laurel Hubbard, weightlifter from New Zealand who, after living most of his life as a man decided to live the rest – so far – of his now her life as a woman, has been eliminated in women’s Olympic competition. This will be a full on “See!” fest of fingers pointed Hubbard’s way as proof that women’s sports are in no danger from nee male competition with no mention of the fact that Hubbard is forty-three years old and his competition is averaging around twenty-five.

We’re going to get the Battle of the sexes where a thirty year old woman proved equality by beating a fifty-five year old man in tennis in redux, but with conflicted reporters trying to recast it as Battle of the Sex because there is no such thing as biological reality in our brave new present.

That Hubbard made a team at forty-three should be proof of physical inequity but that is not why I bring this up. I bring it up because Hubbard failed to progress in the competition because, per The Daily Mail using the parlance of the sport: “The 43-year-old, who transitioned in 2012, was competing in the 87kg+ category but failed to record a single valid ‘snatch’ lift in Tokyo.”

Please try the veal.