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Giving up on another
Mar. 24th, 2023 04:58 amSay something I'm giving up on you
This is a very sad song.
It is also something that isn't really fair.
In a way it is begging the other person to beg you to stay.
It is an attempt to feel better about leaving someone.
An assertion or suggestion that you are doing what is best for them.
Often an unspoken wish.
A pre-emptive strike.
This song states it well.
But
Some people don't beg.
Will not cry infront of another.
And
Nobody can know what you want and mean when the words don't match one's true thoughts.
Let's just be friends sounds like I don't care about you.
I can't be just friends comes with the caveat that it
To painful to be around you.
Seeing you is having my heart ripped apart all over again.
So
Please don't torture me, leave me be.
It is hard enough for one to move past someone who is like another world.
Someone who's voice swallows one whole.
When one can see forever in their eyes.
There is no getting over that.
But
Moving past it.
Putting it out of one's mind.
Could be possible,
but not if that person won't let one be
Even then
The mind can torment
Fall back to that past
Like a decent into madness
The way one might poke a sore tooth
Probe a fresh brush
Seeing the pain still there
As strong as ever
As if still fresh
This is a very sad song.
It is also something that isn't really fair.
In a way it is begging the other person to beg you to stay.
It is an attempt to feel better about leaving someone.
An assertion or suggestion that you are doing what is best for them.
Often an unspoken wish.
A pre-emptive strike.
This song states it well.
But
Some people don't beg.
Will not cry infront of another.
And
Nobody can know what you want and mean when the words don't match one's true thoughts.
Let's just be friends sounds like I don't care about you.
I can't be just friends comes with the caveat that it
To painful to be around you.
Seeing you is having my heart ripped apart all over again.
So
Please don't torture me, leave me be.
It is hard enough for one to move past someone who is like another world.
Someone who's voice swallows one whole.
When one can see forever in their eyes.
There is no getting over that.
But
Moving past it.
Putting it out of one's mind.
Could be possible,
but not if that person won't let one be
Even then
The mind can torment
Fall back to that past
Like a decent into madness
The way one might poke a sore tooth
Probe a fresh brush
Seeing the pain still there
As strong as ever
As if still fresh
RIP Snow Cub
Feb. 15th, 2023 11:10 amSaturday February 11 I had to say good by to my dog.
She gradually stopped eating her kibble so I got her wet food which she ate for a couple of days before she stopped eating that as well.
I took her into the vet. she had lost 10lbs and was extremely anemic.
Her symptoms indicated that it was either lymphoma or autoimmune hemalitic anemia.
The vet put her on prednisone to see if it helped.
Saturday she was worse so I had to let her go.
She loved the snow and playing in it right up to when she got sick. She ran around in it, rolled in it and would catch snow flakes.
She loved sledding. Riding in the sled and pulling it. She would even try to sled by herself - in our very flat yard - by pulling the sled and then jumping into it.
She protected us from the vicious nothing and always had my back ( it were she hid when strangers came ).
She was very possessive and jealous of me.
Very loving, she would groom my ankles and feet when she was laying at my feet.
We would have a romp in the evening were she would roll and rub me while I gave her rubs and scratches.
She would groom my ears and was a hugger.
She slept in my bed.
Hated the rain and would only go out in it if she absolutely had to. She would come in if she felt the slightest sprinkle.
Hated water and wouldn't use a wading pool no matter how hot it was. A bit of an issue foe a black dog with a double coat in the Iowa summer. The double coat made baths harder, the wet down and rinse at least.
She had the softest light brown eyes and was a fast learner.
She loved to play tug, chase and football.
She was as athletic as I am, a nearsighted and cross eyed asthmatic. Which is to say she couldn't catch or jump.
She was a mix of breeds. She had small prancy paws, a barrel chest and small head - she was my land seal.
She could suck her legs into her chest to escape her harness. The first time she did that was going into the vets. One second I was dragging her to the door ( she didn't like doctors anymore then I do ) the next I was holding a leash attached to an empty harness and she was back at the van waiting to get in and go.
She was my support dog and did a good job of making sure I sat or layer down when I had to ( epilepsy, asthma and generally bad health ).
I got her from a friend who lived across the street at the time and was there when she was welped. The largest in the litter she got stuck and had to be assisted and revived. When she was put down for her dame she actually put a paw up to her nose when she was being sniffed. I knew at that instant that she was the one.
She was my best girl.
I keep forgetting that she is gone and looking for her.
She is deeply missed by everyone who knew her.
She gradually stopped eating her kibble so I got her wet food which she ate for a couple of days before she stopped eating that as well.
I took her into the vet. she had lost 10lbs and was extremely anemic.
Her symptoms indicated that it was either lymphoma or autoimmune hemalitic anemia.
The vet put her on prednisone to see if it helped.
Saturday she was worse so I had to let her go.
She loved the snow and playing in it right up to when she got sick. She ran around in it, rolled in it and would catch snow flakes.
She loved sledding. Riding in the sled and pulling it. She would even try to sled by herself - in our very flat yard - by pulling the sled and then jumping into it.
She protected us from the vicious nothing and always had my back ( it were she hid when strangers came ).
She was very possessive and jealous of me.
Very loving, she would groom my ankles and feet when she was laying at my feet.
We would have a romp in the evening were she would roll and rub me while I gave her rubs and scratches.
She would groom my ears and was a hugger.
She slept in my bed.
Hated the rain and would only go out in it if she absolutely had to. She would come in if she felt the slightest sprinkle.
Hated water and wouldn't use a wading pool no matter how hot it was. A bit of an issue foe a black dog with a double coat in the Iowa summer. The double coat made baths harder, the wet down and rinse at least.
She had the softest light brown eyes and was a fast learner.
She loved to play tug, chase and football.
She was as athletic as I am, a nearsighted and cross eyed asthmatic. Which is to say she couldn't catch or jump.
She was a mix of breeds. She had small prancy paws, a barrel chest and small head - she was my land seal.
She could suck her legs into her chest to escape her harness. The first time she did that was going into the vets. One second I was dragging her to the door ( she didn't like doctors anymore then I do ) the next I was holding a leash attached to an empty harness and she was back at the van waiting to get in and go.
She was my support dog and did a good job of making sure I sat or layer down when I had to ( epilepsy, asthma and generally bad health ).
I got her from a friend who lived across the street at the time and was there when she was welped. The largest in the litter she got stuck and had to be assisted and revived. When she was put down for her dame she actually put a paw up to her nose when she was being sniffed. I knew at that instant that she was the one.
She was my best girl.
I keep forgetting that she is gone and looking for her.
She is deeply missed by everyone who knew her.
Pack meeting
Sep. 16th, 2022 01:39 amNadia looked out the window at the withered buildings that made up the decaying neighborhood. Just another part of a neglected section of the city. Gazing over the sad looking territory she smiled before turning to look at the misfit group in the room. Walking out to pace in front of the crowd her voice breaks threw the silence.
" Rogues. Mongriels. And worse."
" They hunt us like prey. Decry us as criminals for not being in a pack. Well, not being in one of their official packs."
"This after they chased us out. Sure, maybe it was our parents or grandparents technically but we and ours were cast out of their society and then declared criminals because of it."
"Our, children have no chance of being accepted by them. No matter how many generations ago our families were tossed aside they don't deem us worthy of licking the mud from their paws."
"They may not think that we have a pack but We Are A Pack."
"They don't think we have any territory of our own, but they are wrong."
"Look around this area may not look like much but it belongs to us. Every building, every lot for three miles of this place is ours."
"We don't just occupy this area, we own it. We have purchased all of it, bit by bit."
"It is ours."
"Now is the time to improve what we have. Improve our territory so that we don't have to worry about the city deciding to revitalize it out from under us."
"So today, we will start to determine what we want to fix and what we are going to remove."
She gazes over the people, her people, her pack.
"Let's get started."
Shadow moon was going to bite werewolf society on its neck someday and by the time they notice that they existed it would be too late.
Even out casts can be born alfas and she was going to show them that a female wolf can head a pack.
" Rogues. Mongriels. And worse."
" They hunt us like prey. Decry us as criminals for not being in a pack. Well, not being in one of their official packs."
"This after they chased us out. Sure, maybe it was our parents or grandparents technically but we and ours were cast out of their society and then declared criminals because of it."
"Our, children have no chance of being accepted by them. No matter how many generations ago our families were tossed aside they don't deem us worthy of licking the mud from their paws."
"They may not think that we have a pack but We Are A Pack."
"They don't think we have any territory of our own, but they are wrong."
"Look around this area may not look like much but it belongs to us. Every building, every lot for three miles of this place is ours."
"We don't just occupy this area, we own it. We have purchased all of it, bit by bit."
"It is ours."
"Now is the time to improve what we have. Improve our territory so that we don't have to worry about the city deciding to revitalize it out from under us."
"So today, we will start to determine what we want to fix and what we are going to remove."
She gazes over the people, her people, her pack.
"Let's get started."
Shadow moon was going to bite werewolf society on its neck someday and by the time they notice that they existed it would be too late.
Even out casts can be born alfas and she was going to show them that a female wolf can head a pack.
Criec, an ljidol home intry
Jun. 12th, 2022 01:33 pmShe carefully sets things up. She expands the table a sets the extra chairs.
Smiling, she unrolls the map.Tonight is it. The big battle approaches quickly.
She glances at the clock. Her compatriots will be arriving soon.
Everything is ready.
A blood bath likely awaits and she intends to enjoy every minute of it.
The door bell rings and she opens the door. Three people are out side.
She looks at them calmly.
"Are you guys ready?"
The three people grin.
"Girl, we have been looking forward to this all week!"
They walk over to the table and begin removing papers and other items from their briefcases, setting them on the table before sitting down.
A few more people trickle in and get comfortable.
Drinks are passed around and snacking begins as the talk among themselves.
"OH, man this is going to be epic."
"What do you think she is going to do to us tonight?"
"Don't care. I just hope some of us survive."
There is a knock on the door and the last of the group saunter In and sets up his stuff and sits down.
He pulls out a wooded box.
She walks to the front of the table.
"Is everybody ready?"
The last guy to arrive pulls out a set of polished stones that have various geometric shapes.
"I even brought the big guns."
She picks up a plastic bottle, takes a long drink and slams it down on the table.
"As you walk down the large corridor your foot steps echo off the walls and distant ceiling. You can see what looks like a dead end up ahead."
"Everybody, make a perception check. "
The sound of dice rolling fills the air with its glorious music.
The game has begun.
Smiling, she unrolls the map.Tonight is it. The big battle approaches quickly.
She glances at the clock. Her compatriots will be arriving soon.
Everything is ready.
A blood bath likely awaits and she intends to enjoy every minute of it.
The door bell rings and she opens the door. Three people are out side.
She looks at them calmly.
"Are you guys ready?"
The three people grin.
"Girl, we have been looking forward to this all week!"
They walk over to the table and begin removing papers and other items from their briefcases, setting them on the table before sitting down.
A few more people trickle in and get comfortable.
Drinks are passed around and snacking begins as the talk among themselves.
"OH, man this is going to be epic."
"What do you think she is going to do to us tonight?"
"Don't care. I just hope some of us survive."
There is a knock on the door and the last of the group saunter In and sets up his stuff and sits down.
He pulls out a wooded box.
She walks to the front of the table.
"Is everybody ready?"
The last guy to arrive pulls out a set of polished stones that have various geometric shapes.
"I even brought the big guns."
She picks up a plastic bottle, takes a long drink and slams it down on the table.
"As you walk down the large corridor your foot steps echo off the walls and distant ceiling. You can see what looks like a dead end up ahead."
"Everybody, make a perception check. "
The sound of dice rolling fills the air with its glorious music.
The game has begun.
My true love, my obsession
Feb. 11th, 2022 02:27 amIt began innocently enough. I was young, curious and we did a lot of camping. My mother always brought along a basic point and shoot camera. It was sleek black plastic and used 35mm film. I had to hold it. To feel the power that it contained, that all cameras contain.. To use that power.
The power to capture time.
Tiny fragments, unique moments that will never happen again.
Bits and pieces of memory and things.
Like the sap of some ancient tree that swallowed a bit of it's world and slowly turned to amber.
A peace of reality to be held and admired long after it has passed, a forgotten memory.
I would barrow that camera when I was little. My mother always reminding me to be careful. Of course I was careful. It was the greatest treasure I knew of, how could I not be careful. I was trapped inside its clutches and wanted desperately to own it myself instead of borrowing now and then.
Then came 3rd grade. Scholastic Books had a promotion that year. For every book you bought you got a paper buck that could be turned in for prizes. Mostly your basic party favor type stuff. Things like paddle balls, but right at the very top for a total of 60 paper bucks was a basic 110 pocket camera. At home I was informed that I had to read every book I bought. I read a lot of books that year.
I first reached my goal about half way threw the school year. When I went to turn in my order I discovered that they had been stolen. It was very upsetting and I had to start all over. Like I said I read a lot of books that year.
I did manage to make the final deadline for ordering and I kept those on me so no one could steal them. When it finally came it even had a roll of film with it. It was a combination of black and a medium brownish tan color and it was mine.
All mine.
I no longer had to ask to barrow a camera I just had to buy film. I spent a good portion of the funds I got on film. I spent as much of my time as I could capturing time. The power was mine.
In time I would discover that it was only a fraction of the power. A small portion that was put together for those who couldn't manage the full power of photography. That was something that came with interchangeable lenses, darkrooms and accessories. I wanted more. I wanted as much of the power as I could afford. First I had to do some research and figure out what form of it I wanted and how much it would cost.
My sophomore year in high school I got my SLR (single lens reflex) camera. A beautiful Pentax K-1000, sleek chrome and black. It was my Christmas/birthday present and had a 35mm lens and a 150-250mm telescoping lens. I would add a 2× converter and a remote trigger. It was glorious.
I took the photography class as well. There I learned how to develop my own black and white film and photography. I also learned about a number of tricks used both behind the lens and in the darkroom.
I used her until my children were old enough to try to figure out how it works. I have considered looking up how to repair it myself but just haven't had the courage.
Having limited funds and no camera repair person around I had to go back to a point and shoot camera. This time a Kodak easy share. It was blue and better than nothing. It did not compare to my K-1000 that now sits in a drawer waiting for me to man up and fix her.
These days I have an EOS Rebel t5 and a lot more. I even have a portable studio. I got the studio stuff for taking graduation photos of my youngest. She is a great companion and I enjoy going on walks with her. We tend to do more macro photography because of my vision but I have the power ready when I want it.
Sure, I could probably use a vertual darkroom but I don't need one. My photography doesn't really need to be edited even if it might be fun to do a bit of mix and match.
I can be a bit of a purist with somethings.
My flickr account is under AKOriginals if you want to check it out.
The power to capture time.
Tiny fragments, unique moments that will never happen again.
Bits and pieces of memory and things.
Like the sap of some ancient tree that swallowed a bit of it's world and slowly turned to amber.
A peace of reality to be held and admired long after it has passed, a forgotten memory.
I would barrow that camera when I was little. My mother always reminding me to be careful. Of course I was careful. It was the greatest treasure I knew of, how could I not be careful. I was trapped inside its clutches and wanted desperately to own it myself instead of borrowing now and then.
Then came 3rd grade. Scholastic Books had a promotion that year. For every book you bought you got a paper buck that could be turned in for prizes. Mostly your basic party favor type stuff. Things like paddle balls, but right at the very top for a total of 60 paper bucks was a basic 110 pocket camera. At home I was informed that I had to read every book I bought. I read a lot of books that year.
I first reached my goal about half way threw the school year. When I went to turn in my order I discovered that they had been stolen. It was very upsetting and I had to start all over. Like I said I read a lot of books that year.
I did manage to make the final deadline for ordering and I kept those on me so no one could steal them. When it finally came it even had a roll of film with it. It was a combination of black and a medium brownish tan color and it was mine.
All mine.
I no longer had to ask to barrow a camera I just had to buy film. I spent a good portion of the funds I got on film. I spent as much of my time as I could capturing time. The power was mine.
In time I would discover that it was only a fraction of the power. A small portion that was put together for those who couldn't manage the full power of photography. That was something that came with interchangeable lenses, darkrooms and accessories. I wanted more. I wanted as much of the power as I could afford. First I had to do some research and figure out what form of it I wanted and how much it would cost.
My sophomore year in high school I got my SLR (single lens reflex) camera. A beautiful Pentax K-1000, sleek chrome and black. It was my Christmas/birthday present and had a 35mm lens and a 150-250mm telescoping lens. I would add a 2× converter and a remote trigger. It was glorious.
I took the photography class as well. There I learned how to develop my own black and white film and photography. I also learned about a number of tricks used both behind the lens and in the darkroom.
I used her until my children were old enough to try to figure out how it works. I have considered looking up how to repair it myself but just haven't had the courage.
Having limited funds and no camera repair person around I had to go back to a point and shoot camera. This time a Kodak easy share. It was blue and better than nothing. It did not compare to my K-1000 that now sits in a drawer waiting for me to man up and fix her.
These days I have an EOS Rebel t5 and a lot more. I even have a portable studio. I got the studio stuff for taking graduation photos of my youngest. She is a great companion and I enjoy going on walks with her. We tend to do more macro photography because of my vision but I have the power ready when I want it.
Sure, I could probably use a vertual darkroom but I don't need one. My photography doesn't really need to be edited even if it might be fun to do a bit of mix and match.
I can be a bit of a purist with somethings.
My flickr account is under AKOriginals if you want to check it out.
(no subject)
Jan. 23rd, 2022 06:19 pmNo one really takes asthma seriously, until they encounter it.
It is, in a large part, the media's fault.. When a character does have it in the movies or on TV it is almost always depicted as something that isn't really a disorder. It is a manifestation of low self esteem or just an extreme form of being out of shape.
All that is needed is confidence from achieving something and/or exercise. Occasionally it is anxiety from an overbearing parent, so break free and bam, no more asthma.
This is how many people think.
It's just an excuse.
Take yoga or some other fitness/confidence building program.
Here's a placebo, we tell you it's a cure and it will all go away.
Then they witness an attack and quickly panic. Sometimes they panic a lot.
Hint, asking the person who can't get enough air what to do does not help. If they could tell you what to do they would have right away.
If they are wheezing and you did not pick up the word inhaler- likely spaced out as in ha er. Get it anyway. If you think to ask about calling 911 you should probably have already started to.
Yes seeing someone gasping for air while holding their chest is scary. So is the sounds that are coming from their chest.
They are not as scary as fighting for air while the only person with you bounces about like a chicken that just lost its head.
However, I am usually too busy straining my chest muscles to pull in and push out air to be scared.
That hurts. Which is why people having an asthma attack will clench their chest when they have an attack as apposed to clawing at their throat. We know what the problem is and the chest pain reminds us that that is where the source of the problem is.
Asthma is not an excuse. If someone refuses to run up hill because they have asthma it is because they do not want to use their inhaler of powerful stimulate ( albuterol ), end up in the ER ( stronger dose of stimulate), or dead.
Always best to not end up dead because you tried to show someone up.
No matter what you are on for maintenance of the condition you still need to avoid triggers.
ER personal are always ready to tell you "don't do that"
Idiot is strongly implied.
It is, in a large part, the media's fault.. When a character does have it in the movies or on TV it is almost always depicted as something that isn't really a disorder. It is a manifestation of low self esteem or just an extreme form of being out of shape.
All that is needed is confidence from achieving something and/or exercise. Occasionally it is anxiety from an overbearing parent, so break free and bam, no more asthma.
This is how many people think.
It's just an excuse.
Take yoga or some other fitness/confidence building program.
Here's a placebo, we tell you it's a cure and it will all go away.
Then they witness an attack and quickly panic. Sometimes they panic a lot.
Hint, asking the person who can't get enough air what to do does not help. If they could tell you what to do they would have right away.
If they are wheezing and you did not pick up the word inhaler- likely spaced out as in ha er. Get it anyway. If you think to ask about calling 911 you should probably have already started to.
Yes seeing someone gasping for air while holding their chest is scary. So is the sounds that are coming from their chest.
They are not as scary as fighting for air while the only person with you bounces about like a chicken that just lost its head.
However, I am usually too busy straining my chest muscles to pull in and push out air to be scared.
That hurts. Which is why people having an asthma attack will clench their chest when they have an attack as apposed to clawing at their throat. We know what the problem is and the chest pain reminds us that that is where the source of the problem is.
Asthma is not an excuse. If someone refuses to run up hill because they have asthma it is because they do not want to use their inhaler of powerful stimulate ( albuterol ), end up in the ER ( stronger dose of stimulate), or dead.
Always best to not end up dead because you tried to show someone up.
No matter what you are on for maintenance of the condition you still need to avoid triggers.
ER personal are always ready to tell you "don't do that"
Idiot is strongly implied.
Shipping and all this inflation.
Dec. 1st, 2021 06:20 pmFeel free to share.
Runaway inflation is currently a big problem throughout the world.
The entire world not just the United 2 but everywhere.
The cause of this problem is not something that can be legislated away and legislation is not likely to amplify it.
Because,
Supply and demand is a big part of what we pay for items.
With supply lower than demand prices go up.
But why is Supply low?
Because the movement of goods is backlogged because there aren't enough drivers. Not enough people with a commercial driver's license who are willing to put in the long hours while risking covid.
This is the major problem and the government(s) do not have the power to fix it. Our government is bound by laws fixed into the Constitution that prevents them from requiring people with cdls to get behind the wheels of trucks and transport goods around the country.
And,
It's the truckers who do most of it.
Ships move things from one port to another and trains can move goods long distance across country from place to place as long as they are connected by tracks and have a place to load and unload the cars.
In the US, this is limited.
Thus
Trucks do the bulk of it.
Goods are transported from the factories to warehouses via trucks
From warehouses to shipping yards ( tran, plane and ship ) and distribution centers by trucks forward and reverse
From distribution centers to stores by trucks.
So,
The available drivers are dispersed threw all of this dealing with current production and the backlog.
Worse,
There are fewer drivers now then before the shutdown.
Some died and some changed jobs.
There are likely a few who might go back to driving once the waves of co id stop, if they stop. World wide vaccination efforts really are not going well.
This is the big problem behind the big concern.
Shame that we don't have a nice, modern railway system to help move more goods and a modern, up-to-date interstate that could handle current and future traffic needs.
Better sources of energy and better ways to store it.
Runaway inflation is currently a big problem throughout the world.
The entire world not just the United 2 but everywhere.
The cause of this problem is not something that can be legislated away and legislation is not likely to amplify it.
Because,
Supply and demand is a big part of what we pay for items.
With supply lower than demand prices go up.
But why is Supply low?
Because the movement of goods is backlogged because there aren't enough drivers. Not enough people with a commercial driver's license who are willing to put in the long hours while risking covid.
This is the major problem and the government(s) do not have the power to fix it. Our government is bound by laws fixed into the Constitution that prevents them from requiring people with cdls to get behind the wheels of trucks and transport goods around the country.
And,
It's the truckers who do most of it.
Ships move things from one port to another and trains can move goods long distance across country from place to place as long as they are connected by tracks and have a place to load and unload the cars.
In the US, this is limited.
Thus
Trucks do the bulk of it.
Goods are transported from the factories to warehouses via trucks
From warehouses to shipping yards ( tran, plane and ship ) and distribution centers by trucks forward and reverse
From distribution centers to stores by trucks.
So,
The available drivers are dispersed threw all of this dealing with current production and the backlog.
Worse,
There are fewer drivers now then before the shutdown.
Some died and some changed jobs.
There are likely a few who might go back to driving once the waves of co id stop, if they stop. World wide vaccination efforts really are not going well.
This is the big problem behind the big concern.
Shame that we don't have a nice, modern railway system to help move more goods and a modern, up-to-date interstate that could handle current and future traffic needs.
Better sources of energy and better ways to store it.
Mask mandates should not be necessary. Putting on a medical mask when you are sick or during an epidemic when you are not vaccinated should be automatic. Protecting not only your rights but the rights of everyone you encounter is a civic responsibility.
When did so many people become so selfish and even entitled to the point of thinking that their rights outweigh everyone else's? Outweighs their responsibilities to the people around them.
When did so many decide that their right to not wear something over their nose and mouth is more important then other people's right to health and life?
What happened to weighing your rights against those of the people around you.
When did you gain the right to put others in danger?
What happened to civic responsibility? To protecting everybody's rights and accepting that your rights do not extend to a point of infringing the rights of others?
That said,
A mask mandate in schools is really just an addition to the dress code. It is not much different than rules that bar tshirts with profanity, offensive images and other inappropriate language? Rules baring bandanas and baseball caps?
These are about the safety and sense of safety of the students.
Unfortunately, younger children really don't have much say in this mandate or not. How can a child wear a mask if they weren't given one to wear from home and do not have any at school to use.
How can a parent put making a statement about personal choice over civic responsibility above their child health?
How did so many become so selfish and self-centered?
I seem to hear a lot of me, mine, and my rights but nothing about responsibility or others rights and people like me is just another way of saying me.
A large part of society needs to wake up and grow up.
When did so many people become so selfish and even entitled to the point of thinking that their rights outweigh everyone else's? Outweighs their responsibilities to the people around them.
When did so many decide that their right to not wear something over their nose and mouth is more important then other people's right to health and life?
What happened to weighing your rights against those of the people around you.
When did you gain the right to put others in danger?
What happened to civic responsibility? To protecting everybody's rights and accepting that your rights do not extend to a point of infringing the rights of others?
That said,
A mask mandate in schools is really just an addition to the dress code. It is not much different than rules that bar tshirts with profanity, offensive images and other inappropriate language? Rules baring bandanas and baseball caps?
These are about the safety and sense of safety of the students.
Unfortunately, younger children really don't have much say in this mandate or not. How can a child wear a mask if they weren't given one to wear from home and do not have any at school to use.
How can a parent put making a statement about personal choice over civic responsibility above their child health?
How did so many become so selfish and self-centered?
I seem to hear a lot of me, mine, and my rights but nothing about responsibility or others rights and people like me is just another way of saying me.
A large part of society needs to wake up and grow up.
Cultural appropreation/westernization
May. 28th, 2021 12:50 amOk, first
I get why it confuses people. Why it is hard to understand what they are, why both are bad, and why both are veiwed as crimes committed by those of European decent.
Cultural appropriation almost always is comes with a general ignorance.
Seeing a small mandala designed to look Native hanging on a cars rear view mirror and being told that it is a dream catcher is very much like seeing an Ahnk in someone's car and having them claim that it is a crucifix. Is something that would upset most Christians.
Now, regardless of ethnicity, a dream catcher only belonges hanging in your car if you sleep in it.
Doing otherwise shows at best ignorance of what it is and a blatant disrespect and insult at worse.
That the items commonly sold as dream catcher's and Native mendala's aren't is in many ways worse because the owner believes that they are.
Westernization has long been a way of actively destroying other cultures. The adoption of western way usually includes the lose of traditional ways. A forgetting of where they come from or an out right abandonment of those ways. In the past it was actively forced onto other cultures by actively removing children from generally safe loving homes and placing them into boarding schools in which they would be stripped of everything that was native and forced to dress and talk like westerners. If they didn't they would be beaten.
Adaption is viewed by traditionalists as a betrayal of everything they are.
Sadly,
Westernization = europeanization = romanization.
The anchant cultures of Europe went threw this same thing, done the same way under Roman rule.
Their descendants then tried to do it to just about everyone else.
The Romans had a couple of thousand years to do this and native traditionalists and afraid that in a few generations their traditional culture will also exist only in text books.
In many ways both are very bad for these outside cultures.
Simply put they do not want their tradions mocked or distorted nor do they want to become us.
I get why it confuses people. Why it is hard to understand what they are, why both are bad, and why both are veiwed as crimes committed by those of European decent.
Cultural appropriation almost always is comes with a general ignorance.
Seeing a small mandala designed to look Native hanging on a cars rear view mirror and being told that it is a dream catcher is very much like seeing an Ahnk in someone's car and having them claim that it is a crucifix. Is something that would upset most Christians.
Now, regardless of ethnicity, a dream catcher only belonges hanging in your car if you sleep in it.
Doing otherwise shows at best ignorance of what it is and a blatant disrespect and insult at worse.
That the items commonly sold as dream catcher's and Native mendala's aren't is in many ways worse because the owner believes that they are.
Westernization has long been a way of actively destroying other cultures. The adoption of western way usually includes the lose of traditional ways. A forgetting of where they come from or an out right abandonment of those ways. In the past it was actively forced onto other cultures by actively removing children from generally safe loving homes and placing them into boarding schools in which they would be stripped of everything that was native and forced to dress and talk like westerners. If they didn't they would be beaten.
Adaption is viewed by traditionalists as a betrayal of everything they are.
Sadly,
Westernization = europeanization = romanization.
The anchant cultures of Europe went threw this same thing, done the same way under Roman rule.
Their descendants then tried to do it to just about everyone else.
The Romans had a couple of thousand years to do this and native traditionalists and afraid that in a few generations their traditional culture will also exist only in text books.
In many ways both are very bad for these outside cultures.
Simply put they do not want their tradions mocked or distorted nor do they want to become us.
A thought came to me
What if the reason so many dire wolf fossils are found in the Lebrea tar pits, more than any other species, but are so rare otherwise is because they pushed the bodies of their dead into them.
Elephants drag the bones of their dead gathering them in one spot. So not unheard-of.
What if the reason so many dire wolf fossils are found in the Lebrea tar pits, more than any other species, but are so rare otherwise is because they pushed the bodies of their dead into them.
Elephants drag the bones of their dead gathering them in one spot. So not unheard-of.
In middle school my cat Dutchess (super hunter) had a litter of 8 kittens. They would chase each other in a line jumping on an ironing board and spring off it to sprint around the corner.
One day the ironing board fell on one off them. My mother, thinking it dead, put it into a bag so I could bury it when I got home.
Fast forward to me at home and the bag is torn up. My mother figures that it was taken by a predator and won't let me look for it.
Fast forward and my father gets home. Mom tells him what happened and he oks me going out to look if I really want to. It was dark due to a thunderstorm so I grabbed my fathers head light (he still hunted raccoon) to go out and look for it.
I did not need it because when I opened the back door he was sitting on the ground in front of the steps just waiting for someone to show up.
I brought him in and dried him off as best I could.
He had a bad night and I was up with him the entire time.
We named him Lucky on account.
Lucky had a chromosomal disorder called Klinfelters syndrome, this is were a male has an extra X chromosome in the last pair.
How do I know?
The genes that determine between black or orange/yellow are on that chromosome. When cells doferrentiate they randomly choose one of them.
He was a blue cream and white tabby.
One day the ironing board fell on one off them. My mother, thinking it dead, put it into a bag so I could bury it when I got home.
Fast forward to me at home and the bag is torn up. My mother figures that it was taken by a predator and won't let me look for it.
Fast forward and my father gets home. Mom tells him what happened and he oks me going out to look if I really want to. It was dark due to a thunderstorm so I grabbed my fathers head light (he still hunted raccoon) to go out and look for it.
I did not need it because when I opened the back door he was sitting on the ground in front of the steps just waiting for someone to show up.
I brought him in and dried him off as best I could.
He had a bad night and I was up with him the entire time.
We named him Lucky on account.
Lucky had a chromosomal disorder called Klinfelters syndrome, this is were a male has an extra X chromosome in the last pair.
How do I know?
The genes that determine between black or orange/yellow are on that chromosome. When cells doferrentiate they randomly choose one of them.
He was a blue cream and white tabby.
Train of thought
Feb. 9th, 2021 06:29 amSometimes my mind runs tangent
Thought more like a station then a train
Shifting about unrestrained
Changing tracks with sudden ease
A railroad of imagination
Shifting thought without invitation
Like dreams of fire
Along paths unseen
No one follows
Unable or uncaring
Lost without daring
In solitude meandering
Switching ideas
Ticking
As words take me
Topics catch the mind
Enthralled
Gathered befor me
Waiting
A chance to be seen
Thought more like a station then a train
Shifting about unrestrained
Changing tracks with sudden ease
A railroad of imagination
Shifting thought without invitation
Like dreams of fire
Along paths unseen
No one follows
Unable or uncaring
Lost without daring
In solitude meandering
Switching ideas
Ticking
As words take me
Topics catch the mind
Enthralled
Gathered befor me
Waiting
A chance to be seen
I got a Sealy mattress this week.
Its a big step up from a soft sided spring (no padding)with a mattress pad on it.
Which was a step up from a mattress made from mattress pads, an old broken down mattress, camp cot, or the couch.
I now have a real bed with a brand new actual mattress and there are no uncomfortable pressure points.
Making sure my children had decent beds and mattresses along with the other neccessary items like a computer for school has taken priority.
They have all graduated and so there are fewer high price items to save for.
Its a big step up from a soft sided spring (no padding)with a mattress pad on it.
Which was a step up from a mattress made from mattress pads, an old broken down mattress, camp cot, or the couch.
I now have a real bed with a brand new actual mattress and there are no uncomfortable pressure points.
Making sure my children had decent beds and mattresses along with the other neccessary items like a computer for school has taken priority.
They have all graduated and so there are fewer high price items to save for.
Another side of a story (in progress)
Jan. 9th, 2021 06:40 pmIt is said that a story has as many sides as participants. Most are only ever told from one. From the perspective of the winner. The person who came out on top. Some are stories of their suffering and saver. Some depict them as the noblest of heroes. The others are bad people at best if not downright evil. Thing is nobody sees themselves as the villain few ever even consider what the others are going through or think about the events.
This is a different perspective on a classic fairy tale. This story has been told from the side of either the girl or the prince ( I expect that its the princes version) and that of the stepmother.
One might consider the step sisters' viewpoint.
This is the younger sister's story
Mother was cold. Detached and aloof. I never saw her smile or cry. I dont remember father well but I remember his funeral and I don't recall mother crying even then. She showed no emotion. Never hugged.
Mother was fastidious. She despised dirt. Everything, including my sister and I had to be spotless. Shoes had to shine without even the hint of a smudge. Clothing had to be meticulous without even a speck of dirt. She regularly inspected my sister and I to make sure that we met her standards.
Mother was demanding. She had very high expectations. We spent our days in lessons. Dance lessons, piano, voice, embroidery, and everything else that a fine lady must know to fit into society.
Mother was quick to punish. A pinch here, a slap there. Never on the facw or anyplace visible. But the slightest transgression would provoke her ire. The scowl was always present.
My sister took after my mother in disposition.
My sister had to be the best at everything. If I did anything even as well as she did she would make me suffer for it once we were alone.
My sister was pretty. She had hair like spun gold that took and held a curl easily. Her skin was pail and perfect. She was always neat, mostly because she hated the dirt as much as mother and refused to do anything strenuous. She was everything mother wanted in a daughter.
Me? I was everything mother did not want.
I was actually short, stocky and heavy. My mother would say fat, she kept me on a strict diet. My clothes always felt tight like they were too small. If I said something or they tore it was because I must be sneaking food and I went without dinner.
Yes I was sneaking food after everyone was asleep but it was the only time I was not hungry and I always cleaned up after.
I was clumsy, graceless and could not dance. I really didn't like to dance. I think a lot of it was do to my feet hurting all the time. The shoes mother made me wear were wat to tight and constantly pinched my toes. They were throbbing in 30 minutes.
Sure they did go numb eventually but it is hard to walk when you dont feal your feet.
To mother this was because my feet were too fat.
To make matters worse as far as anyone was concerned I had no skill or talent in anything. Truth was that I had to be noticeably worse then Dru. Her temper was a nightmare and she couldn't tolerate being out done. So, eventhough I was very good at sewing and embroidery I would make a mess of it. The added bonus was that I would often get dismissed as a result.
My worse sin however was that I liked animals of all sorts, the outdoors and being barefoot. I wasn't bothered by a little dirt on my clothes and longed to shred those fancy dresses, tose away the shoes and walk in the sunlight.
When we first saw Cindy she was a mess and her father was fine with it. It made me hope that things would change. He would temper mother and I would have a friend. A sister whom I could talk to.
Only he went on a trip where he died.
Mother relegated Cindy to chores and when I tried to help mother caught me. I had just finished cleaning the fireplace. Mother dumped the ashes everywhere and had Cindy clean it up while she cleaned me up with cold water and a scrub brush. Cindy thought that I did it to make things hard for her. So much for a friend.
When the invite for a ball came I knew that mother would never let Cindy go anymore then she would let me stay home. Mother really loaded the list of things Cindy had to finish first and even if she managed to finish how would she make or buy a dress. I decided to put my skills to work. I spent all of my alone time working on it. I used white and powder blue for the dress and did the embroidery in matching colors. I tatted white lace shoes and covered them in a clear resin that made them look like etched glass. The finished outfit was sublime.
The problem was getting her to accept them and then to the ball. A lady from the area helped. She delivered them and lent a carriage.
Cindy just had to get home before us with time too change.
The ball was filled with people of the upper classes (the rest couldn't afford to go) and there were all sorts of food and drink going around. Dru was enchanted and certain that the prince would dance with her. She was dreaming of a crown. Me, well the dance was just another pain filled event - until Cindy showed up in the dress and shoes I made. When everyone stopped to look I felt happy for once. When I heard them talking about how amazing the dress was my chest filled with pride even though I could never take credit for my work.
It was a truly magical night for both of us. Listening to everyone talk about my work. Asking if anyone knew the seamstress who made it. A lot of people wanted to hire them, hire me. It was my skill as well as Cindy's beauty that was talked about all night. Skills that I had to hide every day for fear of retribution. So even though nobody would ever know that I had created the dress and shoes I got that one evening of recognition. Well, my skill got that one night.
The rest is rather well known and accurate. I was not happy when mother smashed the one show but things worked out well enough in the end.
This is a different perspective on a classic fairy tale. This story has been told from the side of either the girl or the prince ( I expect that its the princes version) and that of the stepmother.
One might consider the step sisters' viewpoint.
This is the younger sister's story
Mother was cold. Detached and aloof. I never saw her smile or cry. I dont remember father well but I remember his funeral and I don't recall mother crying even then. She showed no emotion. Never hugged.
Mother was fastidious. She despised dirt. Everything, including my sister and I had to be spotless. Shoes had to shine without even the hint of a smudge. Clothing had to be meticulous without even a speck of dirt. She regularly inspected my sister and I to make sure that we met her standards.
Mother was demanding. She had very high expectations. We spent our days in lessons. Dance lessons, piano, voice, embroidery, and everything else that a fine lady must know to fit into society.
Mother was quick to punish. A pinch here, a slap there. Never on the facw or anyplace visible. But the slightest transgression would provoke her ire. The scowl was always present.
My sister took after my mother in disposition.
My sister had to be the best at everything. If I did anything even as well as she did she would make me suffer for it once we were alone.
My sister was pretty. She had hair like spun gold that took and held a curl easily. Her skin was pail and perfect. She was always neat, mostly because she hated the dirt as much as mother and refused to do anything strenuous. She was everything mother wanted in a daughter.
Me? I was everything mother did not want.
I was actually short, stocky and heavy. My mother would say fat, she kept me on a strict diet. My clothes always felt tight like they were too small. If I said something or they tore it was because I must be sneaking food and I went without dinner.
Yes I was sneaking food after everyone was asleep but it was the only time I was not hungry and I always cleaned up after.
I was clumsy, graceless and could not dance. I really didn't like to dance. I think a lot of it was do to my feet hurting all the time. The shoes mother made me wear were wat to tight and constantly pinched my toes. They were throbbing in 30 minutes.
Sure they did go numb eventually but it is hard to walk when you dont feal your feet.
To mother this was because my feet were too fat.
To make matters worse as far as anyone was concerned I had no skill or talent in anything. Truth was that I had to be noticeably worse then Dru. Her temper was a nightmare and she couldn't tolerate being out done. So, eventhough I was very good at sewing and embroidery I would make a mess of it. The added bonus was that I would often get dismissed as a result.
My worse sin however was that I liked animals of all sorts, the outdoors and being barefoot. I wasn't bothered by a little dirt on my clothes and longed to shred those fancy dresses, tose away the shoes and walk in the sunlight.
When we first saw Cindy she was a mess and her father was fine with it. It made me hope that things would change. He would temper mother and I would have a friend. A sister whom I could talk to.
Only he went on a trip where he died.
Mother relegated Cindy to chores and when I tried to help mother caught me. I had just finished cleaning the fireplace. Mother dumped the ashes everywhere and had Cindy clean it up while she cleaned me up with cold water and a scrub brush. Cindy thought that I did it to make things hard for her. So much for a friend.
When the invite for a ball came I knew that mother would never let Cindy go anymore then she would let me stay home. Mother really loaded the list of things Cindy had to finish first and even if she managed to finish how would she make or buy a dress. I decided to put my skills to work. I spent all of my alone time working on it. I used white and powder blue for the dress and did the embroidery in matching colors. I tatted white lace shoes and covered them in a clear resin that made them look like etched glass. The finished outfit was sublime.
The problem was getting her to accept them and then to the ball. A lady from the area helped. She delivered them and lent a carriage.
Cindy just had to get home before us with time too change.
The ball was filled with people of the upper classes (the rest couldn't afford to go) and there were all sorts of food and drink going around. Dru was enchanted and certain that the prince would dance with her. She was dreaming of a crown. Me, well the dance was just another pain filled event - until Cindy showed up in the dress and shoes I made. When everyone stopped to look I felt happy for once. When I heard them talking about how amazing the dress was my chest filled with pride even though I could never take credit for my work.
It was a truly magical night for both of us. Listening to everyone talk about my work. Asking if anyone knew the seamstress who made it. A lot of people wanted to hire them, hire me. It was my skill as well as Cindy's beauty that was talked about all night. Skills that I had to hide every day for fear of retribution. So even though nobody would ever know that I had created the dress and shoes I got that one evening of recognition. Well, my skill got that one night.
The rest is rather well known and accurate. I was not happy when mother smashed the one show but things worked out well enough in the end.
Stupid stuff
Jan. 7th, 2021 05:27 pmA couple of days ago I was feeling a bit down. My back went out on me a week ago because it apparently just felt like it - I did some light cleaning, picking up stuff and changed the sheets on my bed. I was bending to pet a cat when it slipped out of place. - anyway, I wanted to watch a nice feel better dog movie.
8 Below is not a feel good dog movie.
Yes, its a miracle that any of those dogs survived but its a Miracle that should not have been necessary.
It did not take long for it too make me want to hurt people.
First they wouldn't let him wait for a second trip, then they made him leave the dogs behind because there wasn't enough room for them with the equipment and personnel. WTF. Leave the equipment, wrap it up and leave it. It would've been fine.
Then no one would let him go get them during a lowl in the storm.
Bunch of people in charge with really bad priorities.
It did not make me feel better it just made me angry.
8 Below is not a feel good dog movie.
Yes, its a miracle that any of those dogs survived but its a Miracle that should not have been necessary.
It did not take long for it too make me want to hurt people.
First they wouldn't let him wait for a second trip, then they made him leave the dogs behind because there wasn't enough room for them with the equipment and personnel. WTF. Leave the equipment, wrap it up and leave it. It would've been fine.
Then no one would let him go get them during a lowl in the storm.
Bunch of people in charge with really bad priorities.
It did not make me feel better it just made me angry.
Spider webs.
There are many different forms and structures. Cobwebs that look like chaos incarnate. The funnel webs, static tornadoes spread out at the top before spiraling down wherever it is. A cozy hideaway for its creator. Some are traps, some are nets, and some are just a home but all have one thing in common. Even the classic orb web is stronger than anything made by man and we want to know why.
We want to be able to make it or its equivalent for our own use.
Unraveling its secrets will give us stronger lighter materials to make things from.
Better armor, tools and weapons that weigh down our soldiers far less.
Well, that is the main reason the research gets funding.
It is not the only use that it can be applied.
Stronger construction materials that can better hold up to the things nature and man can throw out.
Lighter vehicles that are sturdier than the ones we have now and use less energy to go.
Unfortunately we remain hopelessly entangled in the quest to decipher the lowly web
There are many different forms and structures. Cobwebs that look like chaos incarnate. The funnel webs, static tornadoes spread out at the top before spiraling down wherever it is. A cozy hideaway for its creator. Some are traps, some are nets, and some are just a home but all have one thing in common. Even the classic orb web is stronger than anything made by man and we want to know why.
We want to be able to make it or its equivalent for our own use.
Unraveling its secrets will give us stronger lighter materials to make things from.
Better armor, tools and weapons that weigh down our soldiers far less.
Well, that is the main reason the research gets funding.
It is not the only use that it can be applied.
Stronger construction materials that can better hold up to the things nature and man can throw out.
Lighter vehicles that are sturdier than the ones we have now and use less energy to go.
Unfortunately we remain hopelessly entangled in the quest to decipher the lowly web
