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Life in the Empire

As the shit hits the fan, it's going to become harder to dodge it. Seems like I step in it daily. Got some on your own shoe? This is the place to share personal experiences.

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We like our GP. She doesn't over prescribe. My blood test came back slightly anemic and she said, let's just watch and see if this is a problem.  But the Butt Doctor who did my regular 5 year lower intestine probe, saw those numbers and came in right away saying that we had to schedule an upper GI probe that explores my guts through the other opening.  The consultation afterwards when he was supposed to be sharing the results of the procedure and I was still cloudy from the drugs, that was all he could talk about. Jo was there and got annoyed right away.  Then the girls in his office (using sexist term intentionally to reflect the M.D. - Minor Deity - attitude towards the people in the office who do the actual work) kept calling and emailing me insisting that "your doctor" had made an appointment that I had to follow up on.  Got the bill - the Ass Doctor billed me twice - once for the facility and once for himself - even with the so-called good insurance from Florida State it cost way too much. 

Blood test during the next annual exam, still a little low but better.  GP was right to sit and wait.

Turned 65, postponed signing up for Medicare for another year as I can be covered by Jo's FSU plan.  An awful lot of for-profit insurers are vying for my - and tax - dollars to offer coverage. Not even sure if it is possible in Florida to get Medicare than hasn't been privatized.

We made cloth masks with coffee filter inserts - rated highly effective but a bit too restrictive for comfortable long-use, which is OK because we have been socially distancing for pretty much our entire adult life so we only need them for the short spurts when we have to interact with annoying strangers - tie-dyed and printed so they do work as fashion statements.

I forgot that it was Easter Sunday.  I don't think that's ever happened- but I forget...  little kids hunting for eggs etc..  Don Pablo has given enough material in his link to last a while.  Double Soldier is on the way to Power and Glory.  Forever.  Well... at least for now.  Copper Knot (Flogger) was brilliant!  Glad she is still with your company.  

Ok then- what's this thing-   

9H-VUC Malta Air Boeing 737-8200 MAX photographed at Verona Valerio Catullo Villafranca (VRN / LIPX) by Varani Ennio - VRN Spotter Group

Yeah.  An airplane.  What's it for?  And how about this one-   

EW-400PO Belavia Embraer ERJ-195LR (ERJ-190-200 LR) photographed at Barcelona El Prat (BCN / LEBL) by Varani Ennio - VRN Spotter Group

Can you guess?  Today I saw footage- of US grunts on bone detail- solemnly carrying the flag-draped box into a cargo aircraft- (Afghanistan evacuation) in a war zone... under fire- all wearing their black COVID masks.  OK.  maybe its just me.  Eye the one who crazy 

edit:  Choreography Reference    https://www.thearma.org/Manuals/talhoffer.htm ;    

  

Something I have written: Jemez Mountains Access

And I will also say, for whatever you may think it worth, that YOU are the only person, now living, whose request could induce me to undertake the sketch that you desire.

L. STILLWELL.

Just spent 11 hours listening to this guy.   And yeah- the Irish.  And the Amish.  Etc.  There's Sam Watkins' Company Aych.  Neither one of them was any more aware of gender politics than they were of nanotechnology or quantum physics.  

Expressions of solidarity are usually not welcome outside the group... inside the group it usually boils down to pecking order. Samuel and Jeremiah were both acutely aware of this... as well as how belief systems can swallow our individual identity:  ie. identity politics.   US Civil War was more about capitalism than it was racism.  Drawing the line on property rights is like map lines on the earth.  Largely imaginary.   
Hells Angels logo.jpg
Trapdoor John says, it's a trap.  If you deny it- it proves you are in denial.  If you admit it, it proves you are guilty as charged.  The trap does not lie behind the door.  The trap IS the door.  In stands solid while they affix the rope. 
 One could just as easily blame religion.  It was multifactorial.  That's today's word for "complicated."  Monoculture. Instead of belonging to the land (serfs)... you belong to the landlords (slaves).  Slave property in 1860 represented more liquid capital in the south than all of northern industry combined.  As such, it was leveraged of course.  When the land was exhausted... one could move the labor (and machines) to a new land to exploit.  Subject to papal authority- of course...   
And that's how patriarchy became the cult of domesticity... in drag.   
Kinder, Küche, Kirche, or the 3 Ks, is a German slogan translated as "children, kitchen, church" used under the German Empire to describe a woman's role in society. It now has a mostly derogatory connotation, describing what is seen as an antiquated female role model in contemporary Western society.

"WE ARE ONE AND UNDIVIDED"

About twenty years ago, I think it was—I won't be certain, though— a man whose name, if I remember correctly, was Wm. L. Yancy—I write only from memory, and this was a long time ago—took a strange and peculiar notion that the sun rose in the east and set in the west, and that the compass pointed north and south. Now, everybody knew at the time that it was but the idiosyncrasy of an unbalanced mind, and that the United States of America had no north, no south, no east, no west. Well, he began to preach the strange doctrine of there being such a thing.

Farewell to the dumbest Senate primary ever Ohio's Republican primary campaign was uniquely stupid, by almost any standard.   

As they traded schoolyard insults, a debate moderator had to step in between Mike Gibbons, a 70-year-old investment banker, and Josh Mandel, a 44-year-old former state treasurer, before anyone could take a swing.

The March skirmish resembled a scene from the Jerry Springer Show — or a skit before a WWE match.

It's much worse than I thought- a nice Friday trip to the ER.   Complaint: I can't breathe.  Well-- you're obviously breathing some... so the robotic system kicks into gear.  And Doktor Kookla is there.  You aint gonna get House.  The numbers definitely indicate that you're shutting down somewhat- but it could take hours... even years.  They aint got time for that shit.  You are inside a candy machine.  Plug-and-play boxes are checked and it drops a shareholder-value-creating solution.  The pleasant human faces read from the script- but the machine is clearly in charge.   

They you ask if you have a pacemaker.  You point to the huge box under your skin and ask if they think this is a fucking radio.  They smile and ask you if you have a heart valve.  OK.  Are they trying to see if you are lucid and aware... or are they trying to get out the icky room as soon as possible and back to their screens and a milkshake.  I don't know- but I got a Cornholio swab anyway and came out rona-free.  That only took 30 minutes.  Pain (from broken ribs)?  Have a hospital-sized ibuprofen.  By then the big red get-the-fuck-out-of-here light on my panel was flashing big-time.  

And here's the best part: "The nurse can do that," said Dr. Kookla as I was about to begin on the very skillfully-placed and secure IV needle (after pulling off all the hairy glue wires).  Such menial tasks were clearly below Kookla in the hierarchy explaining why they could take all the blood they wanted but couldn't give *you* any.  It's against hospital policy etc. and the nurse can only do that after receiving direct order from Kookla etc.  Escaped in time to avoid having a respirator forcibly jammed et. al. 

And it all ended happily today with the tree in the backyard.    

Well shit....that wasn't a great way to spend your Friday.

Kafkaesque for sure!    

What is the solution, then? What can we do to put a stop to mass shootings?

If the police exist to protect the wealthy (and themselves), then as disparities in wealth and power increase, the police will protect fewer and fewer people.  

Grandpa's Cyanide

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