Sep 10 2023

Some Music For Your Afternoon

     With the summer drawing to a close, preparations for the autumn season are in progress. Here at the Fortress, we’re slowly gathering the outdoor impedimenta of summer and taking it to storage, while inside we’re making adjustments to the décor, unloading the summer rounds from the guns and reloading with autumn-appropriate rounds. Yes, really! I mean, you wouldn’t want to be shot with a round that’s out of season, would you? What would the neighbors think?

     Anyway, here’s some thematic music for the time of year, from the Strawbs’ album Hero and Heroine, with seasonal images:

Sep 10 2023

Where The Power Is

     Necessity is the plea for every infringement of human freedom. It is the argument of tyrants; it is the creed of slaves. – William Pitt

     Who can protest and does not, is an accomplice in the act. – The Talmud

     One of the most illuminating bits of the Game of Thrones series produced by HBO was the short segment in which Ned Stark, having established to his satisfaction that Joffrey “Baratheon” is not King Robert’s son, seeks assistance from Petyr “Littlefinger” Baelish. Stark knows that the tiny force that directly answers to him would have no chance against the forces commanded by Queen Cersei and the Lannisters. He appeals to Baelish, Westeros’s Master of Coin, to put the city guard at his side:

     Baelish, a true villain, has nevertheless stated an important truth. He who hires and pays enforcers will usually find those enforcers to be loyal to him; their livelihood is his to perpetuate or terminate. This isn’t an absolute – there have been cases of men who’ve “taken the King’s shilling” turning against “the King” – but as Damon Runyan once said, it’s the way to bet. The bet becomes even safer when economic conditions become perilous, as they are today. In times of economic stress, the enforcers would have little confidence about finding a new employer should their current one fall.

     Now let’s look at the situation in New Mexico:

     Gov. Michelle Lujan Grisham announced on Friday a new public health order that outlines immediate actions aimed at quickly reducing gun violence and illegal drug use in Albuquerque and Bernalillo County.
     The recent shooting deaths of a thirteen-year-old girl on July 28, a five-year-old girl on August 14, and an eleven-year-old boy on September 6, as well as two mass shootings this year spurred the governor to declare gun violence a public health emergency on Thursday. Today’s public health order includes directives to curb the gun violence and drug abuse that the Governor has declared to be public health emergencies.

     Those “public health emergencies” have moved Grisham to announce that the Second Amendment to the Constitution of the United States no longer has force in the state of New Mexico – i.e., the right to keep and bear arms has been “suspended” within that state.

     I thought we settled this after Hurricane Katrina. Apparently not. Nevertheless, there are some differences of opinion on the matter, including from the Supreme Court of the United States:

     The forfeiture of office the Court has directed must now be in force…but will it be enforced? If so, by whom? Will the enforcers of New Mexico, whose salaries are at Grisham’s mercy, drag her out of the Governor’s Mansion? If not, will the federal Justice Department send enforcers to do so?

     Place your bets, Gentle Readers.

     The Usurpers are already planning to disregard a Fifth Circuit ruling that they may not persuade, intimidate, or coerce private organizations into infringing on Americans’ freedom of speech. I can’t see them frowning upon Governor Grisham for infringing upon New Mexico residents’ right to keep and bear arms. Like Joe Biden, Grisham has proclaimed that her loyalty to the Constitution is “not absolute.” I think the Dementia-Patient-in-Chief would approve of a colleague at the state level doing as he would like to do.

     Who, then, will enforce the right to keep and bear arms of the people of New Mexico? What opposition would such an actor face from those who answer to the Usurpers and Michelle Grisham?

     At least one New Mexico sheriff has said he will refuse to enforce Grisham’s decree, though that’s not the same as pledging to defend it actively should it be threatened. How many of his colleagues will follow suit? And what about New Mexico police? I don’t think they answer to New Mexico sheriffs, but to their own commanders and chiefs of police.

     New Mexico might be where we learn whether the Usurpers and their allies in the private sector are ready to finish us off. Just now, the enforcers answer to them: those who pay them.

     Pray.

Sep 09 2023

Just When They Thought They Were Safe

They missed an indictment – Lindsey Graham, David Perdue, and Kelly Loeffler. The GA Grand Jury had recommended charges, but Fani Willis declined.

Was she concerned about exceeding the tolerance of RINOs?

Or, was she delivering a message – one that was released in the grand jury’s report – that those Complacent GOP had BETTER stay in line.

My guess is the latter. And, that they will use it as a reason to be even LESS eager to use their God-given spine.

Sep 09 2023

Wherefor Art Thou, AI?

     Some brilliant people have invested entire careers in the investigation of whether true artificial intelligence (AI) is possible. The claims have been many…as have the disappointments. Today we see programs such as ChatGPT proposed for the role. Some of them have impressed legions of non-technologists. We the Geeks and Nerds can peek behind the curtain…and what we see there is still dubious.

     One of the problems in this space is settling on a consensus answer to the question “What is AI?” Just now there isn’t one. Various “expert systems” optimized for the solution of particular classes of problems have tantalized us with the possibilities. But they’re generally agreed not to be AI, owing to their designed-in limitations.

     Among the things that elude most people about questions such as this one is that it depends upon what we agree to use as an acceptance test. In his book on systems engineering and specification, the brilliant Tom McCabe put the matter plainly:

“The acceptance test is the specification.”

     Some of the researchers in AI have proposed tests they favor, but so far none of them have commanded a consensus. Alan Turing’s proposed test – that the candidate AI must be able to fool a human being into believing that he’s conversing with another human being – has generated far more dissent than consent.

***

     Today in the New York Post, NewsCorp CEO Robert Thomson issues some criticisms of contemporary thrusts at AI:

     News Corp CEO Robert Thomson blasted the left-wing bias and inaccuracies spewed out by AI generated content — calling it “rubbish in, rubbish out” — even as he warned the technology threatens to kill thousands more jobs across the news industry.
     Left-leaning media giants that dominate the news business have churned out stories for years that are not only riddled with errors, but also written with a left-wing slant.
     Yet bots like the popular ChatGPT search engine will regurgitate the claptrap as fact, according to Thomson.
     “People have to understand that AI is essentially retrospective,” the media executive said during an appearance at the Goldman Sachs Communacopia and Technology Conference in San Francisco on Thursday.
     “It’s about permutations of pre-existing content.”

     There’s a lot of truth to that. It also raises a key question: Can a program learn to seek input beyond the material it’s deliberately fed by its trainers? That’s a characteristic of human intelligence…sadly, more neglected than exercised. But once again, consensus is elusive, for it has been argued that human intelligence ought not to be the standard against which candidate AIs are measured. But what, then, is the standard we should use?

     The question appears to loop back on itself endlessly.

***

     The possibility of AI is of interest mainly because of its applications. Many such applications are “labor savers,” in that tasks currently undertaken by men could be relegated to AI systems equipped with the necessary devices for interfacing with and manipulating material objects. Indeed, expert systems of that sort are already in use; I’ve worked on a couple of them. Once again, the limited nature of the various tasks suggests that what we’ve achieved is not true AI…but there’s that pesky acceptance-test problem again.

     Fiction tends to influence our conceptions of such things. A few examples:

     …and many others. Note that the influence of the AIs in those fictions is depicted as generally negative. They murder, wage wars, overthrow governments, practice genocide, and kidnap and impregnate human women. As we already have an oversupply of demonstrated experts ready, willing, and able to do those things, AIs are seldom considered for those applications today.

***

     I’m not about to propose an acceptance test of my own; I have too much to do and too many people to piss off already. But I’ll suggest that the “AI problem” is less of one than many think. If it’s potential applications that concern us above all else, then our focus properly belongs on applications. That, of course, reorients us toward expert systems and how sophisticated they can be made.

     The Japanese have promoted the idea that AI-equipped androids could fill human roles that are currently unfilled and in many cases unfillable. We’ve all heard about the sexbots, the market for which appears to be healthy. Japanese developers are marketing companion androids, for those who lack sufficient human connection, and android nannies for working mothers. I have no information about the limits of such androids. But once again, it’s the application that matters…and the acceptance test is the specification.

     My preferred application is yard work. The day some entrepreneur produces an AI-equipped android that can and will:

  • Mow the lawn;
  • Trim the shrubs;
  • Wash the house and deck;
  • Scoop up and bag the dog poop;
  • And yell at the neighbor kids not to throw empty cans and bottles into my yard;

     …with minimum required maintenance and guaranteed limited downtime, I shan’t ask “Is this true AI?” I’ll have my checkbook to hand. Hey, wouldn’t you?

Sep 09 2023

Beyond Parody

     Please click through and watch the video. It left me speechless.

     The young woman in the video is either completely sincere or an actress of such quality that producers should be battering down her door this very moment. I incline toward the former assessment, purely from what I know of our younger citizens, but form your own opinions.

Sep 08 2023

Music For A Friday Afternoon

     Each decade has its stand-outs. Sometimes, the dominant modes and motifs of a particular period can cause some of the best offerings of that time to languish in obscurity. It’s unfortunate, but there’s nothing to be done about it, other than to enjoy what you enjoy and cluck over the neglected artists’ misfortune.

     The Eighties were a special time. We put a genuine American in the White House and gave him his head. Capitalism was on a roll. The United States wasn’t just the world’s superpower; we won the Cold War without firing a shot. There was a unique sense to the era, as if the time had come for throwing off the chains and missteps of the past, and setting forth with confidence and joy…even if we hadn’t quite decided where we were going.

     The Eighties were the decade in which the synthesizer took preeminence over the guitar. Musicians explored the range of this amazingly versatile instrument and were astounded. A lot of the music was trivial, trite… but hasn’t that been the case in every era? There were stand-outs that became hugely popular…and a few that, despite outstanding early notices, didn’t manage to exceed their earlier billing, and were soon forgotten.

     Have a few Eighties tunes that always make me smile. And go thou forth into the weekend with verve and joy. Get dressed up. Party a little. Hell, party a lot! God does want us to be happy, you know.

     “Life is not a dress rehearsal.” – Paul Hogan

Sep 08 2023

A Black Liberation Movement Your Curmudgeon Can Get Behind

     Of course, it’s a good distance from the usual sort:

     R&B singer Akon may have been born in the United States, but he wants to go back to his roots — which, to him, means constructing a city in his family’s ancestral home of Senegal, which he describes as a “real-life Wakanda.”
     […]
     [N]othing short of megadoses of LSD could possibly have produced the delusions described by the singer in his promotional push on “Akon City,” in which he promised “every single African American would be a millionaire without even thinking twice” if they relocated to Africa and that America would be paralyzed “overnight” if its estimated 41.6 million black population up and left.
     According to a report in AfroTech on Friday, the proposed city in the troubled West African nation of Senegal — which Akon says can be built for the low, low investment price of $6 billion — is intended “to be a safe space for Black Americans and others facing racial injustices.”
     “The system back home treats them unfairly in so many different ways that you can never imagine. And they only go through it because they feel that there is no other way,” Akon said in 2020, according to The Associated Press, adding that the proposed African city would be a “home back home.”

     The removal of America’s Negro population to some distant place – doesn’t have to be Senegal, but that particular African hellhole would do just fine – would relieve the U.S. of so many burdens that it would ultimately prove a net social, political, and economic gain — a large one. And it would relieve your humble Curmudgeon of this nightmare, in the bargain. So go for it, Akon! Gather ye racial brethren into one happy mass in Senegal! Just don’t expect Americans to pay for your dream-city fantasy.

     Of course it’s not going to happen. American Negroes are the best off of all their race. In no other nation do Negroes command the degree of prosperity they have here. In no other Western nation are they treated, legally and politically, with such unctuous deference. Why here, they can commit murder, arson, rape, assault and battery, lootings, and what have you in the name of “the voiceless” or “the spirit of Martin Luther King,” and the law will handle the offender with kid gloves. Try that anywhere else.

     So the mass relocation of black Americans to Senegal, or anywhere else, is a non-starter. Indeed, the mere announcement of a plan to make it happen would probably incite the government of Senegal – it does have a government, doesn’t it? – to declare war on the United States. (Cf. The Mouse That Roared.) Given the current state of our military, the outcome would be unpredictable…but given the current state of our politics, we’d probably surrender before battle is joined.

     Ah well. One must have a dream to which to aspire, mustn’t one? If only this dream weren’t some idiot entertainer’s absurd imagining.

Sep 07 2023

The Chronicle of The DC, 7Sep23: Murder On The Sly

The Death of Informed Consent contains the following not uncommon report:

“You’d tell the nurse that you didn’t want Remdesivir and she’d say, ‘Fine. But you’re a bit dehydrated, so let’s get some fluids in you.’ And she’d hook up the IV, but it wasn’t fluids. It was Remdesivir.”

Read on. The report shows that a hospital would receive a huge financial reward for initiating this notoriously fatal process by whatever means employable.

But who or what provided them such motive and why? The answer can be found in the title of this series. Only the names of those running the program remain hidden for now.

Sep 07 2023

Can we please get the media to stop pretending

Pretending what? That this drooling Chinese hand puppet is somehow sentient.

President Biden was accused of being disrespectful after he quickly exited the East Room of the White House before the conclusion of a Medal of Honor ceremony honoring a Vietnam War veteran on Tuesday. 

Biden, 80, abruptly left the ceremony after fastening the nation’s highest military decoration around the neck of retired Army Capt. Larry Taylor, 81, before the closing benediction was read by Chaplain Brig. Gen. William Green Jr.

Take a look at the reactions of the people as he leaves. That’s not what he was supposed to do. Hell, I didn’t plan the ceremony but I can tell you how it’s supposed to go, I’ve been to more than my fair share of award ceremonies. HE LEFT BEFORE THE BENEDICTION! You can hear it on one video as the Secret Service is trying to figure out why Joey Sponge-Brain Shits-Pants is walking out. He left the Medal of Honor awardee standing alone.

The sheer amount of disrespect shown is staggering. I don’t know if people who aren’t in the military understand just how much Drooling Joe disrespected that man, and I don’t know if I can explain it. Just take the salute. When one is awarded the Medal of Honor, higher-ranking officers have to salute THEM first, rather than the lower-ranking person initiating the salute. This is huge in military protocol. And yet, once the Captain turned around, he had to initiate the salute before Drooling Joe the Pants-Shitting Pervert returned it. And we don’t know if it was just disrespect, or if whatever shreds of mental acuity Drooling Joe has left just short-circuited. It could be either, because Drooling Joe is so far gone that he’s not in charge of his own bowel movements, much less anything else that’s happening in or around the White House.

Pathetic. However my ire isn’t just directed at the kid-sniffing pedo pervert. It’s also directed at the DNC mouthpieces in this country, the media, who have for years gaslighted this country over Drooling Joe’s mental health. They covered up his problems during the 2020 campaign. They said he just had a “stuttering problem”. They refuse to show him wandering around and shaking hands with the air. They make all sorts of claims to cover up Drooling Joe’s mental failings, and in return we get episodes like this one.

I’ve mentioned ropes and lamp-posts for various people. Don’t think that I wouldn’t smile if I saw the lying liars who lie right there with Fauci and the rest. If ABC./NBC/CBS/CNN/MSNBC and all the other garbage media outlets disappeared tomorrow, just vanished into thin air, this country would be better off.

There’s my rant for today. I’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed for a couple days running. I’d apologize, but, well…. I did get my name for a reason.

Sep 07 2023

Teaser Time: Teaser Two

     As it happens – and it doesn’t happen often – my “Future Columns” tab is empty this morning. I can’t imagine how that came about. Nevertheless, it gives me an excuse to divert to fiction topics for a change.

     On the marketing front, Hans G. Schantz has announced another big sale of Based Fiction. It’s all $0.99 per book or less, so if you need reading material, hie thee hence! And yes, my tripe is in there.

     Hans also mentions the BasedCon fiction convention which will open on September 12 in Grand Rapids, Michigan. As the title suggests, it’s for readers and writers who are soundly based in reality. (This despite being heavy with science fiction, fantasy, and horror writers. Go figure.) As my health has improved somewhat recently, I toyed with attending this year, reckoned up the pluses and minuses, and decide to order a few more cases of wine instead. This way I don’t have to get on an (shudder) airliner, and I’ll get a little exercise toting all that wine down to the cellar. Best wishes to all who do attend.

     To those who’ve asked…repeatedly…why I haven’t released a novel since 2021, I’ve been working on one. This one presented me with more challenges than most of my others. Still, it should be ready before Christmas. Here’s the first snippet of it.

     And here is the second:

***

Chapter 3

     As Paul expected, their first few days were untroubled. The district remained tranquil. Most of the shops were open, but few did much business. The restaurants, hotels, and B&Bs busied themselves making ready for the Memorial Day weekend, when the Maine seacoast’s opening barrage of vacationers and day-trippers would arrive. Owing to his off-season labors, he and Carol had little other than cleaning and freshening to do.
     Carol proved to be a comfortable housemate. She kept to his hours, did her work cheerfully and well, and was agreeable to any sort of evening entertainment or none. She asked him for nothing other than what he would like to have for lunch and dinner. She prepared the shopping list; he bought the groceries.
     On Thursday morning of her first week with him, he took her to the firing range in Berwick for her first acquaintance with firearms. It went remarkably well. She charmed the range safety officer, who took it upon himself to instruct her in the basics of firearms handling and maintenance. Under his tutelage, she demonstrated an aptitude for the handgun at once. She attributed her exceptional fine motor control to hundreds of hours spent drafting others’ designs. Paul took as much pleasure from watching her shoot as from his own practice.
     She spent two hours perforating targets with each of Paul’s four handguns before declaring herself finished for the day. The RSO, who had been watching her intermittently throughout her practice, congratulated her on her swift acquisition of skill. He schooled her about the legal hazards pertinent to carrying a firearm and using one in self-defense, and cautioned her not to be lax about her practice. She looked at Paul.
     “Can we be here once a week?”
     He nodded.
     She faced the RSO and put a hand over her heart. “I solemnly promise to be here at least once each week to maintain my proficiency—and to enjoy myself. It’s a lot more fun than I thought it would be.”
     The RSO’s face split in a wide grin.
     He expected her to be at least a little unsettled when the barrage of Memorial Day weekenders arrived, but it was not so. She demonstrated an unaffected courtesy toward the B&B’s guests and their demands that had initially come hard to him. He was never even tempted to intervene. The guests responded better to her management than they ever had to his. His admiration for her rose day by day.
     Three more weeks of smooth, untroubled operation of the B&B followed. Each Thursday morning, after they had cleaned up from breakfast and their guests had lit off on their travels around the region, he packed up the handguns and took her back to the firing range. She was as enthusiastic as she’d been the first time. At the fourth visit, her skills were already a close match to his own.
     When they returned to the B&B, Paul stopped the Jetta before the front door and turned to Carol.
     “Think you can man the place by yourself for a couple of hours?”
     “Sure, why?”
     “I have some shopping to do.”
     She peered at him, openly curious, then shrugged and let herself out of the car. He U-turned and drove off humming an old Guns and Roses tune.
     The next morning, after they had finished breakfast and well before the first of their weekend guests had arrived, Paul asked her to take the front desk for a moment and said “I’ll be right back.” She went to the reception area and seated herself as he trotted back to their apartment.
     He returned bearing a modest box wrapped in plain brown paper and presented it to her without words. She frowned.
     “What is it?”
     “Open it!”
     She did so.
     Within was a brand new KelTec P15 and an ornately tooled, femininely delicate leather gunbelt for it.
     “For me?” she said.
     He smiled and nodded. “Perk of the job. Besides, I haven’t seen you wear anything with pockets.”
     She squealed, grabbed him, and laid a kiss on him well beyond what he’d been prepared for. It left him breathless and red-faced.
     “Thank you thank you thank you!”
     “I’m just happy that you enjoy it so much,” he murmured.
     She hugged him once more and immediately wrapped the belt around her waist. He admired her for a moment before ambling back to the kitchen to inventory their supplies.
     How did I get so lucky with that ad?
     And what else do I have to look forward to?
     He forced his thoughts to return to mundane things as he rummaged through the cabinets and freezer.

#

     The aroma from the kitchen had permeated the B&B and tantalized Paul throughout Friday. He wasn’t the only one. Every one of the guests that booked in for the weekend asked what concoction was tormenting them with its unidentifiable but heavenly scent. At each inquiry he shrugged and professed ignorance. Carol had loaded the slow cooker before they’d opened for the day, but had refrained from telling him what she’d put in it.
     When the bustle of the day was behind them, he retreated to the kitchen to find Carol at the slow cooker, lid in one hand and serving spoon in the other, sampling the broth.
     “What hath Carol wrought?” he said as he approached.
     She flashed him a pixie smile. “Something you probably haven’t had before, so brace yourself.”
     “From the aroma, I know I’m going to love it.” He peered over her shoulder into the cooker. It appeared to contain a relatively conventional stew: chunks of meat, green peas, diced potatoes and carrots, and a scattering of herbs.
     That aroma is anything but conventional. It makes me want to dive into that pot.
     His urge to bury his face in the creamy flesh peeking out through the collar of Carol’s blouse was almost as strong. He suppressed both impulses and stepped back.
     “Is it near to ready?” he said.
     “Ready enough,” she said. “Bring me a couple of shallow bowls and cut us each a chunk of French bread. We are going to feast.”
     He did as she’d directed. She ladled generous portions into the bowls, handed him one, and looked meaningfully at the kitchen table. They sat and addressed their meals.
     Paul’s first bite left him stunned.
     “Wow!”
     Carol smiled. “I found the frozen venison.”
     “I can tell. But where did the recipe come from?”
     “It’s mine. I hit on it a couple of years ago,” she said. “New York is the venison capital of the world, you know. Be sure to dunk your bread.”
     He nodded and went back to eating. His serving was gone all too soon. When he sat back from the table, there was a huge smile on his face and nothing edible in his bowl.
     “There’s more if you want,” she said innocently.
     He pretended to shudder. “Don’t tempt me beyond my strength. It’s way too good just to gorge ourselves on it. Let’s save it for another night, if there’s enough for the two of us.”
     “There is.” They rose from the table. He collected the bowls and silver and deposited them in the sink. He was about to start the washing-up when she said “Leave it for later.”
     He turned and leaned back against the counter to find her standing intimately close and smiling.
     “I’m glad you liked it. It’s my special-occasions recipe,” she said.
     “A great way to kick off the season,” he said.
     There was a brief silence.
     “Actually,” she said, “I was thinking of something else.”
     “Oh…your gun?” He glanced at her waist and grinned. She’d worn the gunbelt from the instant he’d presented it to her. It looked good on her.
     “Ah, no, not that either.”
     He waited, baffled.
     “Paul,” she said, “isn’t it about time we made love?”
     His mouth dropped open. Her expression was open and guileless.
     “I thought…” He faltered, caught himself, and steadied. “I thought we were just coworkers. I didn’t know you thought of me that way.”
     She peered at him with an expression of puzzlement. “I’ve thought of you that way from the day you interviewed me. You couldn’t tell?”
     He winced. “I’m not really up on…that kind of stuff.”
     “What kind of ‘stuff,’ Paul?”
     “Girls,” he muttered. “Romance.”
     “Well, how have you thought of me?” she said.
     Like an impossible dream.
     “Am I just a coworker to you, Paul?”
     “No.” He lowered his eyes. “But I was sure you would already have someone, and that I’d meet him once you felt settled in. I didn’t want to risk driving you away.”
     “Hm. Well,” she said as if pondering an intellectual proposition, “as it happens, I don’t have anyone. But if you have some other reason we should wait a while longer, let me hear it. I promise I’m not going anywhere.” Her lips quirked in a faint, fleeting smile. “Though I was looking forward to loving you tonight.”
     There was no mistaking the disappointment in her tone.
     “I’m not saying no!” he blurted. “I’m just…surprised.”
     She grinned faintly. “In a good way, I hope?”
     “Well, yeah! But…”
     “But why you?”
     He nodded.
     “Paul, for the past four weeks I’ve been trying to figure out why no girl has staked a claim to you yet. You’re not a homosexual, are you?”
     His eyelids snapped back. “No!”
     “Then why are you running around loose? What are you, late twenties maybe?”
     “Thirty-three in September,” he muttered.
     She spread her arms in incredulity. “Good Lord! Don’t the women in this town have eyes? You’re good-looking, competent, hardworking, responsible, generous, and just plain nice to be around. When you gave me this—” she gently slapped her holstered pistol “—it took everything I had not to trip you and rip your pants off right then and there.”
     He had no words.
     “So would you like to?” she said. She stepped a little closer and slipped her arms around him. “It’s not a dealbreaker. I’m not going to scream and run back to New York if you don’t.”
     “I just don’t want to disappoint you,” he said.
     “Hm?”
     “I’m…not very experienced.”
     “Oh.” She brightened. “That’s not a problem. In fact, I’m kind of happy to hear it.” She closed the remaining space between them and looked up at him expectantly.
     He pulled her fully against him and kissed her awkwardly. She molded herself to his torso, gently corrected the kiss, and deepened it to the maximum. A few moments later she led him to her bedroom, unlocked and opened the steel door he’d installed for her security, and nudged him inside.

#

     “Are you okay?” he said.
     She opened her eyes and smiled up at him. “I’m great. Why?”
     He elbowed himself off her and settled onto his back. She immediately snugged herself against his side and rested an arm on his chest.
     “You were shaking and screaming,” he said. “I didn’t know if that’s…”
     “Normal?” She chuckled. “I suppose it isn’t. But it isn’t bad. At least, not in this case.” She ran a fingertip over his lips. “This was your first time, wasn’t it?”
     “Yeah.”
     “Why, Paul?”
     “Hm?”
     “Why did you wait so long?”
     He said nothing.
     “Have I embarrassed you?” she said.
     “No…I’m just not very social.”
     He works too much. Probably always has.
     She started to speak, checked herself.
     But that’s not necessarily the whole story.
     “Paul? Look at me, please?”
     He did.
     “Did I make you do something you didn’t want to do?”
     His eyes compressed in dismay. “No!”
     “Good.” She caressed his chest. “I wouldn’t want to think so.”
     “But did I?” he said.
     “Did you what?”
     “Make you do something you didn’t want to do?”
     How could he think that? “Not at all! I’ve been looking forward to this since the day we met!”
     He winced and returned to staring at the bedroom ceiling.
     “What made you ask me that?” she said.
     There was a brief silence. She began to wonder if she’d breached a barrier he’d erected and maintained deliberately.
     “This place has been my whole existence since before high school,” he said at last. “Even when my parents were here, every moment I wasn’t in school or doing something else that I couldn’t avoid, I was working here. I’d run back here at the end of the school day, drop my books in my room, and get busy right away with whatever Mom or Dad said needed doing. After graduation that became my whole life. I never got to ask a girl on a date. The only girls I even got to speak to were guests here.”
     “No college?” she said.
     He scowled. “Who needs a college degree to work in a B&B?”
     It stripped the words out of her.
     I’m his first girl, in every sense of the words. His parents virtually locked him in here, and I’ve gone and broken down the door.
     What do I do now?
     She was seized by a sense of danger. Her carefree way with her body had put her in a position to cause great suffering.
     Some of that suffering could be mine.
     She breathed once deeply, let it out, and summoned her resolve.
     “Paul?”
     “Hm?”
     “This isn’t just about sex, okay?”
     That brought his head around. “Oh?”
     “Yeah.” She caressed his cheek. “Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to make love with you—quite a lot, actually—but it wasn’t just an itch I needed to scratch. I wanted you. I think you’re super. You’re the most impressive guy I’ve ever met, and a sweetheart on top of it.”
     Don’t say it, Carol.
     “And I intend to hang on to you with both arms, both legs, and all my strength. If you’ll have me, anyway.”
     He peered at her in open disbelief.
     “You’ve been to college,” he said.
     She nodded. “So?”
     “You’d really rather be with me than any of the men you met there?”
     “That’s right.”
     “Or any of the men you’ve worked with?”
     “Mm-hmm.”
     He shook his head in disbelief and turned away. She chuckled.
     “What makes it so hard to believe?”
     “You! You make it hard to believe!” He propped himself on an elbow and squinted down at her. “You’re too beautiful, too smart, and too damned nice.” His face reddened as he spoke. “You think just because I’ve been trapped here with no social life, I haven’t seen how things work? Women of your caliber don’t go for blue-collar losers like me!”
     She faced him squarely. “Just like women of my caliber don’t leave engineering jobs in New York to work in a Maine B&B, right?”
     He started to reply, closed his mouth without speaking.
     “How,” she said evenly, “are you a loser?” She raised a finger. “You own your own, profitable business.” Another finger. “That business is five-star rated with the Maine BBB.” A third finger. “You’re able to do more kinds of construction and maintenance than anyone I’ve met.” A fourth finger. “And you’re a dead-eye shot with any of four different handguns. So how?”
     He did not reply.
     She had an epiphany.
     I know what I have to do. Am I ready, willing, and able?
     “Paul,” she said in her lowest register, “how old am I?”
     His shoulders lifted briefly. “I don’t know. I thought it’s crass to ask a woman her age.”
     “I’m twenty-eight,” she said. “These days that’s long enough to have looked around, and I have. I don’t have any big ambitions. I’m not looking for fame or fortune. This is what I want. Tranquility. A quiet life. Yes, it’s a hardworking life, but it’s quiet all the same. And to have you into the bargain…I don’t think I could have asked for more or better. I think I know what it’s going to take to convince you of that.”
     He watched her in silence.
     “Time,” she said. “I’m here less than a month. That’s not a lot of time to get to know and trust someone. But after I’ve been here a year, you’ll feel more secure about me. After two years? Five?” She smiled. “I think you’ll be convinced. For the moment, can I persuade you to stay with me tonight?”
     He closed his eyes and nodded.
     She bade him lie down and gathered him into her arms. Presently they slept.

==<O>==

     Copyright © 2023 Francis W. Porretto. All Rights Reserved Worldwide.

Sep 06 2023

Too Schadenfreudean To Not Share

Sep 06 2023

Speaking of warping things….

If any of the Mask Covidiots try to tell you that you have to wear a mask otherwise people will die, please ask them to follow the actual science.

We have well over 100 years of proof, scientific proof, that masks do not prevent the spread of an aerosolized virus. The fact that so many people in America bought into masks whole-heartedly is a testament to how poorly our publik skool sistim has done in teaching critical thinking skills and actual science. Of course, that is all on purpose.

There’s some post from the CDC talking about how masks won’t stop smoke particles. Huh. Smoke particulate is magnitudes larger than a virus, and yet the same masks they say won’t stop smoke particles they try to claim will stop a virus.

Enough of the insanity. Do not play along, do not agree with them, do not allow them to gaslight you. They are full of shit and lies. You have the truth on your side.

Sep 06 2023

“We Must Warp Them ALL!”

     Pascal and I have been blathering about the death cults for more than a decade. Not many people have taken us seriously. It’s depressing to think that an actual threat to human existence is widely treated lightly. But we soldier on.

     What one must not forget is that the death cults are fighting a multi-front campaign. They want Mankind eliminated, or failing that, reduced to its irreducible minimum (themselves). Therefore, they seek not merely to kill – directly or otherwise – as many of us as possible; but also to inhibit human reproduction by whatever means are expedient. One of those means is the perversion of the young.

     If you’re not familiar with the North American Man-Boy Love Association, its agenda since its inception has been to twist the minds and sexualities of as many pre-teen boys as it can lay its hands on, and as early in those boys’ lives as possible. The group’s motto is “Sex By Eight Or It’s Too Late.” Pederasty almost guarantees that the victim will fail to reproduce as an adult, whether because he’s been warped into homosexuality or because the trauma has made him a poor candidate for the sort of liaison that produces children.

     The death cultists are enthusiastic about pedophilia of all kinds for that very reason: Kids who are victims of such abuse seldom have kids of their own. And in recent years, they’ve openly campaigned for “pedophile acceptance.” But until recently, they haven’t boasted any support from credentialed “experts:”

     A leading academic journal has published an article questioning the need for age of consent laws and claiming that discussions of “youth sexuality” are unjustly hindered by “cancel culture.” The author, Marshall Burns, is a physicist and technology entrepreneur who was involved in the development of the early computer industry and operates a website titled “Consenting Juveniles.”
     In his article, which was published in the Archives of Sexual Behavior in June and titled “The Elephant in the Room: Youth Sexuality,” Burns argues that “sexual relations between youths and adults” is wrongfully seen as a contentious issue in society.
     “The Archives of Sexual Behavior special section on cancel culture is an important reference on a dangerous phenomenon taking place in front of us. Yet the section omits discussion of the primary cancellation issue that arguably helped set the stage for what we face today and that remains the most lightning-rod subject of all,” Burns writes.
     “It ignores the elephant in the room: youth sexuality, and in particular, discussions of sexual relations between youths and adults without an a priori assumption of abuse and harm.”

     The “a priori assumption of abuse and harm” is founded on experience. Such encounters distort the child’s understanding of love and sex. Many also do the child physical harm. Do some children seek out sexual contacts with adults? Perhaps, but these are highly exceptional exceptions. The overwhelming majority of such contacts are initiated – quite aggressively – by the adult predator.

     I hardly think it necessary to comment further on this, other than to emphasize the connection to other death-cult initiatives:

  • The promotion of promiscuity;
  • The promotion of homosexuality;
  • The promotion of transgenderism;
  • The drive for consequence-free abortion;
  • The propaganda about “overpopulation;”
  • The denigration of motherhood;
  • The denigration of the large family.

     Ponder it as long and as deeply as you can stand.

Sep 06 2023

This “I Identify As” Crap Must Be Stopped Now!

     It’s already gone too far:

     Coast Guard officials arrested a Florida man after they intercepted his unusual hamster wheel contraption that he was allegedly attempting to ‘run’ to London.
     According to a criminal complaint, 44-year-old Reza Baluchi is facing federal charges after he was rescued 70 miles off Tybee Island, Georgia by coast guard officials. The marathoner was found on August 26 in his bizarre hamster wheel contraption and asked “standard questions.”
     “Based on the condition of the vessel – which was afloat as a result of wiring and buoys – USCG officers determined Baluchi was conducting a manifestly unsafe voyage,” the criminal complaint says.
     The “manifesting unsafe” vessel is a giant metal drum, with inflatable buoys on each side and paddles that are powered by a runner inside.

     The misspellings and grammatical glitches in the above are from the original article. I imagine the issuing correspondent was laughing too hard to pay the closest sort of attention.

     Karen Ashley at Chicks on the Right comments thus:

     Despite this behavior being a bit mental, I’m actually kind of impressed.
     Did he just roll it to the beach from his home?
     But wait, Baluchi went full mental when officials told him they were halting his travel plans, to which Baluchi threatened to take his own life with a 12-inch knife he was wielding. Baluchi even threatened that he had a bomb aboard his hamster ship.

     Look, I’m a fan of originality. I admit it; I look for it in all forms of entertainment. But this one doesn’t qualify; it’s has been “done” by billions of hamsters. Granted, they weren’t attempting an ocean crossing that I know of, but still! Anyway, there’s no percentage in it if you wind up being apprehended off shore and fined for wasting Coast Guard time.

     Now if you were to get yourself a slot to speak in front of the UN General Assembly, and rolled in there in a human-size hamster ball, I’d be impressed. Try calling yourself a “peace activist.” Write a monograph on how no war has ever started between nations whose citizens were all incarcerated in hamster balls. There you go: instant publicity and the solution to world peace in one stroke. Don’t wait for someone else to do it. The second guy rarely makes it into Guinness, n’est-ce pas?

Sep 06 2023

The Bioethics Scam

     As one who loves words and delights in their proper use, it offends me when words used to express important concepts are twisted away from their public meaning to serve a political agenda. For example, we’ve seen the word justice brutalized by the addition of one modifier after another, none of which have any relation to justice as it’s been understood since the Enlightenment. Similar violence has been perpetrated upon rights, a word equally critical to Western thought.

     The word to be rescued today is ethics.

     An ethic is a rule that specifies right and wrong conduct toward other people. It’s inherently a rule for individuals; it doesn’t change when they form groups. Right and wrong don’t shift for the group as a collective. Groups neither gain nor lose rights or ethical standards according to their size.

     So what does it mean to call a man a bioethicist? Does he acquire special powers to discern right and wrong when the subject is biology? What about medicine? Environmentalism, perhaps?

     “Bioethicists” have been hawking their positions about public policy for some time now. There was once a “bioethicist” named Daniel Callahan who advocated a kind of national medical triage. He argued for providing decreasing medical care to the elderly as they age, supposedly to free “medical resources” for the “needy.” Look him up; you might be surprised how much respect he’s received from “policy wonks.”

     And now we have this…person:

     S. Matthew Liao, a “bioethicist” with ties to the WEF: Humans should be genetically modified to induce an intolerance to meat, in order to solve “climate change”.

     “It turns out that we can use human engineering to help us address climate change… People eat too much meat, right? And if they were to cut down on their consumption of meat, it would actually really help the planet. But people are not willing to give up meat… We can use human engineering to make it the case that we’re intolerant to certain kinds of meat. That’s something that we can do through human engineering.”

     I’m sure he has lots of fans in the corridors of power.

     This is a sophisticated example of a game everyone can play. If you have some sort of preference that goes against the way people actually prefer to live, and you’d like to force it on the rest of us, just follow this simple procedure:

  1. Acquire a credential of some sort.
  2. Posture as an expert in some fictitious discipline, e.g. “bioethics” or “eco-management.”
  3. Gather with other pseudo-experts in a serious-sounding “studies” group.
  4. Publish “white papers” in BS-filled “journals.” For extra panache, hold speaking tours.
  5. Wait for power-hungry mandarins to come to you.

     Trust me; you won’t have to wait long.

Sep 05 2023

The Panic Pornography is ramping up again

The Government and their proxies are trying to get you to forget every lie they told when they shut down the country over a virus that Anthony Fauci paid to produce in a lab in Wuhan, China.

Oh yes he did. Don’t you think for one second that he didn’t pay for the Kung Flu. That money went from the NIH, which Fauci was in charge of, to the EcoHealth Alliance, to the Wuhan Institute of Virology. Fauci paid for the Kung Flu to be made.

And then there’s the lies about the jab. “Safe and effective!” Two lies in three words.

COVID-19 cases among vaccinated seniors soared in 2021, according to newly disclosed data that was acquired by U.S. health agencies but not presented to the public.

Humetrix Cloud Services was contracted by the U.S. military to analyze vaccine data. The company performed a fresh analysis as authorities considered in 2021 whether COVID-19 vaccine boosters were necessary amid studies finding waning vaccine effectiveness.

Humetrix researchers found that the proportion of total COVID-19 cases among the seniors was increasingly comprised of vaccinated people, according to the newly disclosed documents.

Not only did the jab not stop a damn thing, but you’re going to see more and more people dying from “suddenly” or “coincidence” as the years go on. That’s on top of the increased rates of cancer, since in many people the jab shuts down the immune system’s ability to fight of the cancerous cells.

And in case you had not seen the data, and many people haven’t because the people in charge don’t want the data out there, six out of ten people who got the mRNA jab cannot produce an antibody to the N protein of the Kung Flu. That would be the nucleocapsid protein, i.e. the part of the virus that mutates the least. All these poor people can do is produce antibodies to the spike protein, which is the part of the virus that mutates the fastest. So what does that mean, short version? If you got the jab, you are MORE likely to come down with a new version of the Kung Flu. You’re immuno-compromised now. Oh, and don’t think that people didn’t know that would happen. The people making this clot shot and pushing this clot shot knew all about Antibody Dependent Enhancement. They knew about it years ago. Decades ago. THEY FUCKING KNEW.

Every promise made by the government and big pharma was a lie. Every. Single. One. Not a mistake, not an innocent little white lie, a blatant, in your face lie so gross and egregious that it should mandate public punishment on the spot. If there was any justice in this world that Little Fucking Fascist Fauci would be hanging from a lamp-post, along with every single government official who pushed the jab, mandated the jab, and gave the pharma companies complete freedom from liability for the harm caused by their toxic clot shots. And yes, I know that would require a lot of lamp posts. We could spread them out across the country, multiple cities, and leave their bodies hanging as a warning to the next crop of fascists.

But, that didn’t happen did it? No matter how much they deserved it, no matter how much it would have improved the country, people were never held to account for what they did.

Which leads us to today, and the ramping up of the panic pornography.

The jab doesn’t stop the Kung Flu. At best, masks do nothing. At worst, they lower your O2 saturation levels and have you breathing in massive amounts of bacteria and germs that collect on the mask throughout the day, leading to infection in your respiratory system. You know, the system that the Kung Flu likes to attack, especially if you’re in a weakened state?

The lockdowns didn’t stop the virus. They only destroyed the economy and allowed the Democrats to commit voter fraud in 2020. I think we can all agree that act was their real function, which is why they’re trying to drag out the same playbook for 2024.

Stop. Listening. To. These. Fascist. Pricks. Tell them “No”. If they won’t listen, tell them again. And when they start to get forceful in their demands, you have to be forceful right back. No means no. Never fucking again.

Or, you can be a quivering lump of goo and live like a slave on your knees, begging your government slave-owners to let you have your permissions back. Your all. Me, I prefer dying on my feet than living on my knees. Your call.

Sep 05 2023

Y’all Gotta Read This

It’s one of the funniest posts I’ve read in a long time, but with a core of truth. Trust me, you will want to go to the link.

Sep 05 2023

Day Off

     I have a great many things to attend to this fine day, so it’s unlikely there’ll be anything from me until tomorrow. However, before I depart I must commend to you this tirade from Kurt Schlichter. Kurt foresees a great turning of the worm, in which he might be correct. He feels duty-bound to remind the Left that it was they who sowed dragons’ teeth in America’s fields, and in that he is definitely correct. Have a pull-quote:

     Do you think these laws only go one way? Do you think this precedent can’t be used right back against you and yours? There are a lot of state attorney generals and district attorneys out there in red states, and they are going through their statute books. Conservatives, who tend to be doomers, are fretting because none of these red officials have acted yet. But they will act, all in good time. First, slow, then all at once.

     We can hope, anyway. And do have a nice day.

     UPDATE: Believe it or not, YouTube banned this video:

     Tells you something, doesn’t it?

Sep 04 2023

Worthy As Few Are Worthy

     Does anyone here remember the old “You don’t have to be Jewish to love Levy’s” rye bread commercials? They had a good point. Similarly, you don’t have to be Catholic to love Anthony Esolen.

     Dr. Esolen’s most recent column is a clarion call. While he reminds us to “expect no help” in our efforts to rescue contemporary life from its low estate, he exhorts Catholics to live and celebrate our faith joyfully, reveling in the fullness it brings to life. That is the faith’s “secret weapon:” sincere Christians are happier than others. Christianity, properly understood, is a religion of joy.

     Dr. Esolen’s Sunday punch:

     The world is now an astonishingly bitter and lonely place. You can see it in people’s eyes when you ride the train. You can see it in the listlessness of college students at even the healthier places. You can see it in the near complete withering of the love song in our time; in the collapse of marriage; in the default method in our schools, which is to belittle the greats and to kill wonder.
     We, by contrast, must be attractive in our health and our good cheer, our bounty of marriages, our children shouting at play.

     Success, be it said yet again, inspires emulation.

***

     Not long ago, I wrote:

     Contrary to the myths circulated by the Church’s enemies, Christianity is a religion of joy. After all, its Founder came among men to redeem us from our sins, from one end of Time to the other. We don’t practice and promote our faith or the virtues it exalts because they conduce to misery, but to happiness. Hilaire Belloc’s quatrain expresses it nicely:

Wherever the Catholic sun doth shine,
There’s always laughter and good red wine.
At least I’ve always found it so.
Benedicamus Domino!

     That essay, written for the Lenten season’s Laetare Sunday, was largely about becoming more conscious of our habits of consumption. We have a lot of them, we Americans. They mustn’t be condemned uncritically; after all, eating regularly is essential to health. But to be unconscious of what one is doing is seldom commendable. Remember what our old friend Syme said about unconsciousness.

     And from the peanut gallery comes the cry of “GOTCHA! Porretto has just tripped over his own tongue! Faith demands orthodoxy, and Syme said orthodoxy is unconsciousness!” I’m afraid you’ve misconstrued me, friend. Faith is belief: the acceptance of an unprovable proposition as true. It’s human authoritarians who demand orthodoxy…and orthopraxis. There are such authoritarians attached to every creed, but it’s you, the critical mind, who decide whether or not to believe, to what extent, and to what effect. You can disarm the authoritarians of any faith simply by saying “Thanks, but I’ll pass.” A faith that doesn’t allow you that option is really a totalitarian political creed in religious guise. Why else would I condemn Islam as unfit for human consumption?

     The only faith worth having is that of the conscious mind: alert, unintimidated, informed rather than indoctrinated, and fully aware of its premises, its choices, and their consequences. One of the problems with the religious education of the very young is that children’s minds are far too susceptible to indoctrination. Remember the power of a child’s need to please those in authority over him.

     Which brings us to the next facet in this gem.

***

     It sometimes seems as if all our relationships are authority relationships. At any rate, a whole lot of people claim some sort of power to tell us what to do. Wives boss husbands around. Parents routinely order their kids around. Employers and their designated representatives order employees around. Police casually order civilians around. Home owners associations…no, let’s not go there; I’m not feeling that brave. At any rate, these are not normally pleasant relations, though We The Ordered-Around allow them for reasons of our own.

     There’s a quid pro quo, albeit it normally goes unstated, associated with all such relationships and orders. Do this and you’ll get that. Thus, except for cases associated with the threat of physical force, such relationships are essentially voluntary. Compliance with the orders involved is a matter of choice, though one might not bear that in mind at all times.

     Not long ago, I had occasion to defy an order. A supervisor – a middle manager of some repute who’d been in his position for a long time – ordered me to work sixty hours per week until a particular problem had been solved. I refused. It brough light to the voluntary nature of our relationship: he knew I wasn’t dependent on the employment he provided, and I made him aware that I knew it as well. We settled his dissatisfactions – which, ironically, I had no part in bringing about – without rancor.

     Sincere faith must be entirely voluntary. The fire-and-brimstone preacher of legend is far less successful at garnering sincere converts than is he who emphasizes the glorious beauty of the Christian faith and its many rewards, both temporal and eternal. Today’s priests and ministers are more aware of this than were their predecessors. Even religious education of the young has been influenced by it, though I don’t doubt that there are still some of the old “Speak loudly and brandish the Bolo paddle” type indoctrinators out there.

    C. S. Lewis knew it:

     [H]atred is best combined with Fear. Cowardice, alone of all the vices, is purely painful — horrible to anticipate, horrible to feel, horrible to remember; Hatred has its pleasures. It is therefore often the compensation by which a frightened man reimburses himself for the miseries of Fear. The more he fears, the more he will hate. And Hatred is also a great anodyne for shame.

     Think about how Islam blends hatred and fear, and it will become irrefutable.

***

     It’s possible to go on too long, to blunt rather than to make one’s point. The message “should” be clear by now: Christians, live your faith joyously. Be an example to others of the temporal benefits of Christian belief. Non-Christians…regard the Christians among you. They’re probably not trying to get your attention. But if they have it…what does their deportment say to you?

     May God bless and keep you all. Happy Labor Day. Enjoy your barbecues. And remember what you’re supposed to do about those drones!

Sep 04 2023

There Are Days The Satires Write Themselves

     They seem to be particularly rife on Mondays. Consider this bit of nonsense:

     Anti-chippers are the latest group of awful people we now have to worry about

     They’re paranoid, don’t believe in science, many have white supremacist tendencies, and most importantly they want you to know that microchip implants are super duper scary. They’re anti-chippers, and they’ve got literally dozens more braincells than your average anti-vaxxer. So, what’s their deal?

     The coronavirus pandemic has the world’s most brilliant minds scrambling to find treatments, vaccines, and ways to improve public health going forward. One such savior is Bill Gates, the child-loving philanthropist who founded Microsoft. His proposal is to put a teeny tiny piece of silicone under everyone’s skin to improve lives by reducing healthcare costs and keeping track of the unhealthy.

     Now what could possibly be bad about health professionals and doctors keeping Americans safe and healthy? You’d be surprised (or not).

     There’s no need to read the rest. The publication, AFRU, bills itself as “a Black-led and majority Black-owned startup that combines fashion and streetwear with lifestyle commentary to create a strong social justice brand that is relevant and attractive to folks from all walks of life.” Is further comment necessary?

     These days, intelligent people have plenty of questions about “health professionals and doctors keeping Americans safe and healthy.” Of course, the average intelligence of AFRU’s customer base being…what it is, perhaps those customers won’t think to ask those questions in time to keep remote monitoring (and only God knows what else) devices out of their bodies. Talk about a 21st-Century plantation, eh? What overseer wouldn’t drool over the prospect of knowing exactly where all the slaves are at all times?

     Considering the revelations about COVID-19s origins and the origins of its “variants,” I think I’ll pass on being “chipped.” How about you, Gentle Reader?

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