I Swear To Crom The Spam Bots Are Out In Full Force. Barely Engerish Sounding Names, Untitled Pages,

Reading through "manliness" discourse and websites, and I'm wound up dumbstruck.

So the takeaway from more left leaning wisdom givers seems to be the Alan Alda style of manhood, and is definitely geared towards the mythical Millennial tech worker. Bits of advice like "don't learn to fix things, learn to code" or "don't learn to defend yourself, learn to meditate" along with the assumption that you can always hire someone with these "outmoded" skills to do stuff for you. Not only is that classist as fuck, but why would you want to purposefully helpless in a good portion of your life? Sure, cars are getting more complicated all the time. Doesn't mean that you couldn't do basic repairs and maintenance with a basic tool set and some five minutes of YouTube. I personally saved us around $5k in repairs on the Vic with basic tools and videos. I changed out the whole cooling system-new radiator, new water pump, new hoses, new serpentine belt, even changed out the oil cooler with aftermarket because it was leaking into the coolant. I certainly couldn't have afforded that paying someone to do it for me. But I've got a running car that I only paid for parts on.

The flip side of this is the right leaning adviser that basically want to turn you into Heinlein. "A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects". I'm perversely proud that I can do almost all of that, but I've led a weird life and I'm almost 50. Mix that mentality with the prevailing streak of neo-Victorian thought, toss in a soupçon of anti-intellectualism, and yearn for the magical time of the imaginary 50s that has no basis in reality.

I'm kind of the mind that all knowledge is good, and you never stop learning. Over the years, I've taught myself stuff that runs the gamut from picking locks to sewing, to formal table manners. Because I found them useful and interesting, not because of what manly men do.

If you ever want hilarity in your life, watch a couple of chiweenies tear off hell bent for leather to try and murder a deer. And the look of sheer terror on the deer's face as Death approaches yipping at ankle height.

Apparently in the last 18 months, we've been nominated as the county eccentrics. People whom I don't know from Adam are striking up conversation with me, knowing where I live. I was informed of the "eccentric" status relatively recently at the little country store down the road. This pleases me.

This guy is an artist like Ed Gein was an interior decorator.

I wonder if this is the replacement for the ACES suit. Time to look things up!

Being punished for other's political affiliations or actions is called collective punishment. It's a war crime. Violates Section 33 of the Geneva Accords. It's also what Nazi Germany did when they'd machine gun villages when their occupation forces experienced sabotage. Also what the Soviets did when they machine gunned villages when someone collaborated.

turning universal human rights into an "all rights matter," promoting the ideas that civilians in a particular place are fair targets for a particular reason, that you can be lethally punished for the political affiliations of those around you is inane, morally monstrous, and politically inexpedient. it is in everyone's best interest that this line of thinking is not pursued

One thing all the cottagecore types either obfuscated or ignored: living in the woods in a cabin is work. The forest is perpetually trying to reclaim the cleared area. Firewood never lasts as long as you think it would, and it's heavy. We just had a really bad windstorm blow through, lost five white pines, and now I have to take a chainsaw and limb & buck them out. On top of that, there's cabin repairs to be done. Not much time for Instagramming bread or knitting.

I had a sad today. Realized that with fall coming on strong, all the butterflies are going away. I haven't seen a colorful flitter bug flying around in days. Oh well.

I'm fascinated by the history of the Grand Guignol. Even read the collection of translated plays, and properly done with modern practical effects, they could still hold up today. If anything, it's deserving of a revival, possibly in concert with some dark burlesque and apropos musical acts.