Declarations after Victory, Sort of
Hillary: I'm interested in taking down barriers, not building walls.
Trump: After this, I'm going after Hillary.
Wednesday, March 2, 2016
Saturday, February 27, 2016
Circular Reasoning: U Albany President
"Anyone who is found responsible for their actions will be held accountable." And for this Robert Jones is paid about half a mil a year.
Thursday, February 25, 2016
Tuesday, February 23, 2016
14 Wires
The wire is just lying there, in the hell-hole beneath the computer desk. Somehow, someone must have jostled it loose. I know the drill: move the desk out, risking disturbing more of the wires, cables, cords that connect us to the outside world. I know how to plug things in, once I know where they belong. I count at least 14 wires or cables, or cords--I'll just call them wires. And then there is the hard drive, monitor, modem, Trend-Net, LogTech device, printer, cell phone, speakers, and desk light, and a few other things I can't name.
I've called the help-line several times before, but find it a tedious and ignominious experience. I'm uncertain of the vocabulary, and dislike feeling like an idiot. If there were one connection per wire, I'd have no problem. But the above-mentioned devices tend to have multiple orifices, some of them not in use, or probably for some other connection. I don't know. Crouched with a flashlight on the floor in front of the computer, I find the loose wire has 3 prongs, so I look for any device that corresponds to that. I find a three-outlet space, and plug the wire into that, don't know what I've connected to, but it fit, so I figured I've got a chance.
The desktop comes up, but the internet connection is lost, the screen tells me. I don't know if more than one wire had been jostled loose, or if I plugged the wrong wire into the wrong hole. I give up, and get up from the floor, push the computer desk back into place, return the flashlight to its place, and ponder what to do.
I am saved. In the form of a 12-year-old who has come to visit. He quietly assesses the situation, and without moving anything, or asking a single question, enters the space beneath the desk, performs whatever magic it is that he invokes, and in a matter of minutes the computer is back in action. Hallelujah.
I've called the help-line several times before, but find it a tedious and ignominious experience. I'm uncertain of the vocabulary, and dislike feeling like an idiot. If there were one connection per wire, I'd have no problem. But the above-mentioned devices tend to have multiple orifices, some of them not in use, or probably for some other connection. I don't know. Crouched with a flashlight on the floor in front of the computer, I find the loose wire has 3 prongs, so I look for any device that corresponds to that. I find a three-outlet space, and plug the wire into that, don't know what I've connected to, but it fit, so I figured I've got a chance.
The desktop comes up, but the internet connection is lost, the screen tells me. I don't know if more than one wire had been jostled loose, or if I plugged the wrong wire into the wrong hole. I give up, and get up from the floor, push the computer desk back into place, return the flashlight to its place, and ponder what to do.
I am saved. In the form of a 12-year-old who has come to visit. He quietly assesses the situation, and without moving anything, or asking a single question, enters the space beneath the desk, performs whatever magic it is that he invokes, and in a matter of minutes the computer is back in action. Hallelujah.
Thursday, February 18, 2016
I Smell A Rat, Harmless and Quixotic
Every major and minor media outlet has picked up on the story, which makes such a nice human-interest end to a broadcast. A man lost his wallet, and some of the contents have been returned via the U..S. Mail. The victim goes to the media to report that he received a letter from the finder, with his driver's license, credit cards and other stuff, along with a written explanation detailing why he returned some items and kept others. He needed the cash (amount is unspecified) to buy weed, the Metro Card because fares have gone up, and the wallet itself because it was "kinda cool."
If I were an investigative reporter, I would question the validity of the entire story. The letter writer has better-than-average mastery of the English language, though a few punctuation marks have been omitted. He takes the time to explain his reasoning for retaining some of the property, for reasons best assigned to one of the hipster genre. He returns credit cards, which any thinking person would know have been cancelled. So evidently the only item of value is the driver's license. He is not an honest person; he kept all the property that he could use. So why would he go to the trouble to write an explanatory note and pay the postal fees to send it? And, most telling of all, why would he explain that he knew where to mail it because he saw the owner's address on the driver's license. That should have been obvious to the owner of the wallet, but it does clear up all the questions that might arise when the story airs.
It's an amusing anecdote. No reporter is going to be sent to check it out. We are all suckers for this type of story. But I see very gullible forces of the mass media all too eager to dish out such pap to a receptive audience. If we hear it on TV or read it on the internet, it must be true. Just ask BaBabooey.
If I were an investigative reporter, I would question the validity of the entire story. The letter writer has better-than-average mastery of the English language, though a few punctuation marks have been omitted. He takes the time to explain his reasoning for retaining some of the property, for reasons best assigned to one of the hipster genre. He returns credit cards, which any thinking person would know have been cancelled. So evidently the only item of value is the driver's license. He is not an honest person; he kept all the property that he could use. So why would he go to the trouble to write an explanatory note and pay the postal fees to send it? And, most telling of all, why would he explain that he knew where to mail it because he saw the owner's address on the driver's license. That should have been obvious to the owner of the wallet, but it does clear up all the questions that might arise when the story airs.
It's an amusing anecdote. No reporter is going to be sent to check it out. We are all suckers for this type of story. But I see very gullible forces of the mass media all too eager to dish out such pap to a receptive audience. If we hear it on TV or read it on the internet, it must be true. Just ask BaBabooey.
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
Binge Watching, but Not Really
Afternoon television is the epitome of a vast wasteland, so I wholeheartedly endorse Netflix. The service just recently was extended to us, and it is much appreciated. To date, we have watched, binged if you will, though in smallish bites, the episodes of Making A Murderer, Chasing Tyson, Better Call Saul, and today I viewed the first episode of House of Cards. Of course, I'm a season or two behind, but it's possible that I'll be able to become current someday, if I live long enough.
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