Yesterday, I hid a boatload of fonts and downloaded a couple of my favorites. I already discovered on the previous computer that not only are the English fonts that come with Windows 10 all alike and equally boring, but that, with all the non-English fonts displaying, it takes forever to find the right font for the project (if it’s even there.) I had been coping by constructing memes on the 8.1 and either bringing them to the 10 on a flash drive, or just uploading them to PP from the 8.1 and searching for them if they had been pushed down from the top. I don’t have all the fonts I will want yet, but i have a good start, and I need to be choosy, since paint can only show so many before sending me to font jail.
This from Wonkette was posted Wednesday. And there’s a lot in it. Now that the Clementine Caligula figures he’s not accountable to anyone, I don’t know how much it will really do to slow him down. But at least there are people with some authority who are trying.
Harry Litman has more to say about Justice Roberts’s social media post. He makes the implications of it pellucidly clear. I agree that the Roberts who made that post is the Roberts we need. But it’s not enough.
Yesterday, still slogging along. I did look for an image of St. Joseph, since March 19 is his day, but they were all too – TBH – white. Then I remembered that March 19th is also the day that the swallow (theoretically – it’s really just a legend) return to San Juan Capistrano mission after a winter in South America. As legends go, this one is pretty benign. So I thought I’d refer to it and maybe make up a little for having missed Pi Day.
Clearly none of this has anything to do with actual DEI, the point of which is to prevent us all from being limited to dealing exclusively with stupid white people. The point of these efforts is to erase history and convince people of the clearly false belief that white people are better than anyone else (and also that men are better than women, also clearly false.) I hope to heaven no one tells any of these dodos (apology to actual dodos) about the USS Doris Miller. (And yes, the Mount Suribachi photo is a target also.)
I always have difficulty reading The Root – I click to the page and maybe manage to read a paragraph and then it whites out (I think it’s my browser – I can read it in edge, I just hate edge.) I expect we all know what happened, including law enforcement though they are not admitting it, and likely no one will be held accountable. Someone commented that the Mango Monster and Dork Vader have taken us back 80 years in two months. I disagree. It’s more like 85 to 90 years. 80 years ago we were about to celebrate VE day in a couple of months and no one here was admitting to being a Nazi, or at least not in public.
Yesterday, the day was as close to the time from sunrise to sunset (and vice versa) both being exactly 12 hours as we are going to get here. Worldwide, that doesn’t happen until the 20th (this year). I kept working on preparing to move to a different PC. It’s still slow, but I’m still making progress. Thanks for bearing with me.
This Talking Points Memo is from yesterday, and, at the time of posting, I’m not sure why I am not hearing a whole lot more and louder screaming about it. I haven’t read all my mail yet – maybe it’s there and I haven’t seen it – I haven’t read all the legal newsletters. But it feels like “In [the United States] today such things happen every minute.” (Later – I still haven’t read everything, but it’s clear that sane lawyers are pretty much in a state of shock. Well, I am too.)
I’m unhappy with Schumer too, and so is the F* News. And the graph in the post speaks for itself so plainly that I don’t know how anyone could miss the message. But I also recognize that he (like any caucus leader) is between a rock and a hard place. I don’t blame anyone who’s angry with him – I truly get that – but I would say be careful what you wish for. (If you want to know who I do blame, frankly, it’s all those Democrats who talked Joe into dropping out of the race in 2024. That was what ultimately put misogyny into play. And at or near the top of the list of people hurt by it is Kamala.)
Yesterday, I hadn’t heard from Trinette, so I called her, and she’s fine – and out of state at a family gathering of some kind. And she sounds good. She has the same kind of post-nasal drip cough from allergies that I chronically have, which is annoying, but not dangerous (and by the ime of day I called, it would be gone for the day, and it was, for both of us). She was going to call or email, but with traveling (she drove) and all, time just got away from her. I’m just relieved to know she’s alive and well.
As Wonkette says, “[Y]ou can’t negotiate with bullies.” You also cannot appease them. If you try, they will simply take you for a sucker, and easy mark, and demand more and more. Columbia apparently is entering the FO stage of FAFO – and make no mistake, appeasement and attempted appeasement count as FA. Just ask Neville Chamberlain.
I would hope that this, as reported by Joyce Vance, would lead to any not-already-purged prosecutors resigning in protest. If there are any such. On the other hand, their loss would be incalculable. I don’t really know what to hope for. Other than impeachment – and that’s a whole nother can of worms. Really other than “Didn’t anyone besides me and holocaust survivors see this coming?” I don’t know what to say.
Yesterday, the radio opera was Beethoven’s “Fidelio.” You are welcome to skip the details, although I hope you’ll give it a chance – I am going into more detail than usual, because Beethoven was one of us. I don’t suppose he would be thought progressive today, but in his day he was as progressive as they came, and loud about it. Like pretty much all the progressives of the day, he was fooled for a while by Napoleon – they all thought “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” – until he wasn’t. But this opera is our opera – all about political corruption and the courage to oppose and expose it. Here’s the story: Leonora (Eleanor in English) Florestan is a young (or youngish) woman whose husband disappeared two years ago, shortly after attempting to expose the corruption of the “governor” of a political prison named Pizarro. She has tried and failed to learn anything about hos whereabouts. In desperation, she disguises herself as a young man and applies for a n apprentice warden job at the prison governed by Pizarro, under the alias “Fidelio.” She is a bright, intelligent, conscientious worker, and makes excellent impressions on the warden, Rocco, and also on his daughter, Marcellina, who is ready to throw over her previous suitor, Jaquino, to marry “him,” and Rocco supports Fidelio as a suitor. (This leads to a comic quartet.) Fidelio changes the subject by offering to help Rocco in his duties in the dungeon. Rocco’s response make her almost positive her husband is there. Everyone leaves but Rocco, and Pizarro arrives. Rocco tells him that his (Pizarro’s) boss, the minister (cabinet member) plans a surprise inspection the next day. Pizarro orders Rocco to murder and bury Florestan, who is a close friend of the minister. He also orders that a trumpet be sounded at the minister’s arrival. Rocco refuses to do the murder, but agrees to dig the grave. Pizarro will do the murder himself. Fidelio has come back close enough to overhear the plot, although not soon enough to be 100% sure it’s Florestan they are talking about With Marcellina’s help, she persuades Rocco to let the prisoners out into the garden for a while (her real motivation is in case she’s wrong and Florestan is not in the dungeon, she might see him among the other prisoners), and a touching chorus ensues. It’s on the short side, for fear Pizarro might hear them. Pizarro does hear and demands an explanation. Rocco says they were given a little outdoor time in honor of the King’s name day. Pizarro grants permission for Fidelio to marry Marcellina and also to help Rocco in the dungeons. The prisoners are locked up again as the act ends. Act II begins with a long aria (technically a “scena”) by Florestan – his trust in God, his love of Eleanor, a fantasy that she comes to save him, and then more or less hallucinates being free. Finally he collapses and falls asleep. Fidelio and Rocco enter and start digging the grave. Florestan wakes up, and she recognizes him (his voice, actually), but he doesn’t yet recognize her. He learns that the prison he is in is governed by Pizarro, and realizing he’s doomed, asks to send a message to his wife, but is turned down. He begs for water, and Fidelio is allowed to give him some, She then begs to be allowed to give him a crust of bread and is granted permission. Rocco gives the signal to Pizarro that the grave is ready and Fidelio is told to leave, but hides instead. Pizarro pulls out a knife to kill Florestan, but Leonora jumps between them, saying “First kill his wife!” revealing her true identity. She pulls out a gun, which stymies Pizarro, and just then the trumpet is heard. Pizarro and Rocco leave, Florestan says “Leonora! What have you done for me?” to which she replies, “Nothing, my Florestan, nothing.” Whereupon they have a love duet. The scene changes –
everyone is now out of the dungeon, the minister is there, and the whole plot comes out. Florestan is freed and Pizarro is imprisoned. All the other prisoners are also freed. The chorus sings about how lucky a man is who has a good wife, and all are happy, except Marcellina and of course Pizarro.
This is of course still up in the air (or I hope it is – I think we would have heard if had passed), but the 19th gives background not just on the measure but on co-sponsors Pettersen and Luna (and even though it would have been really hypocritical for her not to co-sponsor this after her own experience, I have to give her credit for co-sponsoring it.)
OK, I admit this is anything but good news. But Robert Reich‘s sharing of his memories is so sweet, and even downright funny in spots, that at least it’s not depressing
Yesterday, I worked more on my email accounts – cleaning out the old, forwarding to the new to remind me to make the changes – and also took in a grocery order – and not a minute too soon. (But soon enough.) I am making progress, not that it feel like I am.
It’s no surprise to anyone, and certainly not to Harry Litman, that Judge Beryl Howell will not stand for malarkey* in her court. (*malarkey – a word I’m using in honor of St. Patrick’s Day which is coming right up.) (Incidentally, did you ever expect to be familiar with the names of so many Federal Judges not on the Supreme Court as you are right now?)
Yesterday, I spent most of my time going through the folders in my Yahoo! email account, forwarding the very few emails which needed to be kept to the tutamail address and deleting the rest. Yahoo only allows me to delete a hundred at a time – they claim I can select more, but when I follow the instructions, they don’t work. So far the folder with the most emails in it had around 7500. Yes, I know, but I never intended to leave Yahoo, and they give you a terabyte of storage, and all my folders together were only using 0.37% of it, and I just never took the trouble. Shame on me. I also placed a grocery order for delivery today, and that’s pretty much it. I did change a few usernames, but only a few.
This is a few days old, but it’s also Robert Reich. His take one this was vaguely floating around in my subconscious – but iy would have taken months, even years, before I could have articulated it even clumsily.
This is not news, it’s been floating around for a while, but the 19th, which was started to emphasize news affecting women and other minorities, cover all the details, and some are less obvious. I am fortunate in having my original marriage certificate. I don’t have a birth certificate that qualifies – I have several copies of what California was giving out in 1945, because my Mom was wise enough to get a bunch, but it doesn’t qualify. getting a certified one is not free, but it’s not that difficult. The only passport I ever had was in my teens and no one wants to see that. Forty years ago, when I got married, I was not politically opposed to keeping my maiden name – bit it was “Stangenberger,” and I thought changing it would make life easier. I can actually put together quite a little package of evidence that I am who I am – but most of it would be considered irrelevant under this bill.
Yesterday, the first thing I did was check to see whether my Social Security had arrived. It had. So it’s replacement computer time. I’m still working on getting everything I will need either onto a portable hard drive or changed on the Net, Bu I can slow down a little. Incidentally, if you have ever wanted to say SOB (in full) in a different language, I have a few for you:
German Hündinsohn
French Fils de chienne
Italian Cagnafiglio
Greek skýla gios
Ukrainian сучий син (transliterated suchyy syn)
I know enough French, German, and Italian to be pretty sure those work. But my Greek is classical. That’s a transliteration. And my Ukrainian is non-existent, so that’s pure Google Translate. But I thought it would be really handy. (BTW in Italian “gn” and “gl” are pronounced “ny” and “ly” respectively. So, “canyafeelyio.”)
PolitiZoom‘s article speaks for itself. My personal feeling is that anyone who has a personal relationship with the Clementine Caligula should be barred from having any weapons of any kind for life. But that’s probably just me.
Yes, I know Ash Wednesday was yesterday. But I am very proud of my co-religionists for coming up with this, and it’s not too late. It’s never too late to do the right thing.
Several sources of mine have referred to this article from the Atlantic (which I just got around to) in regard to Elon Musk (AKA Dork Vader). I only knew of it as the drug with which Elijah McClain was overdosed with by paramedics – and which killed him. It was the sub-head of the article which grabbed me: “can make anyone feel like they rule the world.” For anyone who doesn’t know, Virgil is a recovering alcoholic (now about 38 years sober) and when we were engaged and first married, I went to a lot of AlAnon meetings, but also to a lot of open AA meetings with him. The latter included a lot of sharing of personal stories. I think everyone who has ever had a drink or two believes they know exactly what it feels like to be “high” on alcohol, and outside of an AA meeting, I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone else actually describe their feelings in that condition. But if we think we know something, we may not listen as carefully when it is discussed. I speak from experience. It took me a couple of years to actually hear and process those stories. And they had this in common: every recovering alcoholic said that when they were drinking they felt “in control.” It’s not a big jump from feeling “in control” to feeling “like they rule the world.” Do I even need to say I have never felt anything remotely like that with alcohol? Because I certainly haven’t. If I had ever found anything which did give me that feeling, it would be extremely difficult for me to stop using it. Not that I have ever been looking!
