Poor Thomas

Posted on by under blog snax, Generic Rant

A BlogSnax© post

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about a poor guy named Thomas. I don’t know his last name; he probably didn’t have one. But we all know his “first name”, which also turns out to be his claim to infamy:

Doubting

Yes, I’m talking about the Thomas in the Bible, chapter 20 of the Gospel of John, to be more precise. (Verses 24 through 29, to be even more precise. This is worth reading. Seriously.) As a result of the fact that he didn’t (at first) believe that Jesus had risen from the dead (would you?) he has been labeled “Doubting Thomas” for all of CE human history.

Now that’s just not fair.

Imagine if you were named based on the worst thing you ever did. Think about it. We’d be surrounded by…

  • Drunk Driving John
  • Sleazy Mary
  • Tax Cheat Phil
  • Swindler Suzy

Never mind if you rehabilitate yourself as Thomas did. You’re stuck with that miserable moniker as long as you live and, if Tom is any model, forever.

What would your nickname be???

Thank you for reading,
Lying Rick

It’s not the…

Posted on by under Generic Rant, Original writing

Have you ever noticed how many popular expressions take the form, “It’s not the … it’s the …”? I’ve collected a few that came to mind. I’m always open to more.

  • “It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity.” This tired old saw should be retired. Does anyone really want to hear this on a sultry, sweltering summer day? It only makes matters worse.
  • “It’s not the feet, it’s the humility.” This spin on the previous one is unusual. It was presented to me as a way to get across the lesson of Jesus washing His disciples’ feet on what we celebrate as Maundy Thursday. This is way more acceptable than that last one. In this case, it’s always the humility.
  • “It’s not you, it’s me.” No one wants to hear this, least of all George Costanza!
  • “It’s not the meat, it’s the motion.” Rated PG-13!! Technically, it’s “It ain’t…” but who cares? Fifty-one years ago Maria Muldaur rocked the world with this hot little number. Pretty tame stuff by today’s standards.
  • “It’s not the gift [or expense], it’s the thought that counts.” I honestly believe in this one, although it never feels true when people say it.
  • “It’s not the years, it’s the mileage.” Only Indiana Jones could have sold this one such that we’re still saying it 44 years later. For those of us who aren’t Indy, it is the years.
  • “It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog.” This is an excellent addition to the list. Admittedly, I’d never heard of it before today when I was researching this post. This is often attributed to Mark Twain but, like so many other apocryphal quotes, it is not his. See this excellent explanation of its origins.

That’s all I’m aware of but it’s not the quantity, it’s the quality. At least that’s what people say.

Photos that make me say hmm…

Posted on by under Generic Rant, photos
I’m driving behind this van and notice the sign. If it’s empty, who’s driving?!? <cue Twilight Zone theme> Doo-doo-doo-doo.<end theme> This was before self-driving cars. I got off the road immediately.
Got this puzzle at the local library. If you find the missing pieces, shouldn’t you keep the puzzle? You’d think a library, of all places would be more precise in its wording.
I can see first aid and body fluid kits as safety equipment. Even those chock blocks might be useful. But “triangles”? Maybe if you have this guy on the bus. (Sorry the picture is out of focus.)

Hmmm…

Goodbye Instagram ⃰

Posted on by under Generic Rant

I joined Instagram ten years ago this month, mainly to see pictures of family, promote my writing, and publicize philanthropic efforts I participated in. It was useful and fun.

The world has changed.

Most of my family has dropped out of the IG world, there’s no evidence it has helped sell any of my books, and its parent company, Meta/Facebook†, has become an enabler of the US kakistocracy and the miscreants in charge. I can no longer associate with a company someone accurately described as “a diabolical cult run by emotionally stunted men babies, institutionally enabled sexual harassers and hypocritical virtue-signalling narcissists” that is “able to swing elections, target body-shamed teens with beauty products and monetise millions of humans’ hitherto private data.”

I quit.

What effect will my quitting have on these deviants? None. So what’s the point? I’ll sleep better knowing I’m no longer supporting such malevolence. It’s the same reason you won’t find me at Walmart or any of the increasingly prevalent local casinos. I try my best not to support sociopathic behavior anywhere.

I’ll miss a lot of stuff I followed on IG:

The thing is, I can get at most of this stuff online in other ways, as evidenced by the links above. Besides, I survived the first 60 years of my life without IG. I should be able to get by the rest of the way without it. And I’ll have a lot more time, what with not getting sucked into the bottomless void of idiotic videos and photos of life hacks (often life-threatening hacks), people doing stupid things (I do enough on my own), ads for crap I couldn’t imagine ever wanting in a thousand lifetimes (items chosen specifically for me by specious AI algorithms), staged “candid” scenes (presumably made by shameless exhibitionists), AI-fabricated nonsense posing as reality (thus perverting our vision of actual reality), maudlin recollections of the way things used to be (but never truly were), and on and on and on (and on, ad nauseam). It seems as if it never ends. In a sense, it never does. I don’t know about you, but I don’t have that kind of time.

Enough. Goodbye and good riddance to it all.

⃰ After a long deliberation about taking this step, I was inspired to finally make the leap by an article by one of my heroes, musician, writer, and all-around Renaissance man, Charlie Peacock. You can read it here.

† We have a Facebook account, but we rarely use it. Nevertheless, that’s going, too.

Whatever happened to shame?

Posted on by under Generic Rant

I’m old, old enough to remember when getting a tattoo was a sign of rebellion, not a sign of conformity. I’m also old enough to remember when people felt shame.

In 1968, faced with a catalog of well-documented and proven abuses, Richard Nixon, for all his faults, faced the music and resigned from office. After fighting all the Watergate charges, he realized that, in addition to losing the trust of the American people and with impeachment imminent, there was no way out of the corner his illegal, unconstitutional activities had painted him into. Finally, he admitted defeat and, waving to the crowd with his trademark double peace sign (a peace he had held hostage for most of his term of office), flew off into infamy aboard Marine One, then on to Air Force One, which lost that call sign somewhere over Missouri on its way to California.

He, along with most of his staff, had been shamed out of office and deservedly so. We as a nation put them behind us and moved forward. This kind of thing had happened before, from Boss Tweed to Joe McCarthy to George Wallace to the embarrassing but more benign shenanigans of the likes of Anthony Weiner.

Things have changed today. In spite of all the charges and failures and lies and convictions and scandals, not to mention a failed overthrow of the American government, no one seems to want to admit defeat or take responsibility. (A friend who is in the know about these things told me that a certain current president has had a Watergate every month and has never been held to account.) The crazies just keep on pushing nonsense about stolen elections, DEI plane crashes, fake news, Democrat controlled weather, birthers, dog-eating immigrants, alternate truth, and countless more inanities.

I doubt these corrupt, shameless scoundrels or their cowardly enablers would bat an eyelash at the accusing words with which Joseph Welch brought down another bully, Joe McCarthy, when he declared,

“Until this moment, Senator, I think I never really gauged your cruelty or your recklessness… You have done enough. Have you no sense of decency, sir? At long last, have you left no sense of decency?”

These people have no sense of decency, so those words would disappear into the vacuum where their consciences should be.

Now those same thugs are running the show again. And they’ve brought along their trillionaire friends (None of those, you say? Just wait; with extensive graft happening already, it’s only a matter of time.) to wreak havoc over the entire globe. Unlike Nixon, whose own party at that time had the ability to distinguish right from wrong and thus ran him out of office, these miscreants are being empowered and encouraged to perform their nefarious acts by their equally unprincipled, spineless accomplices. Now millions around the world will pay for our sins with their lives.

Shame on them.

Shame on us for letting this happen.

More word weirdness

Posted on by under blog snax, Generic Rant

A BlogSnax© post

A few observations on the vagaries of the English language and our (mis)use thereof.

Why is imply a word but exply, meaning to say something directly, is not?

Giving and taking are opposite actions but caregivers and caretakers do essentially the same things.

And while we’re on the subject of words, let’s just eliminate the word literally, okay? It’s way overused, yet generally used in only two contexts: one when people mean the exact opposite (“It literally blew my mind!”) and one when it’s superfluous (“It’s literally the same thing.”).

Get rid of literally and we’ll have room for exply.

My recommended innovation

Posted on by under blog snax, Generic Rant

A BlogSnax© post

Here’s an innovation that car manufacturers need to implement and the sooner the better. It’s kind of like intermittent wipers. But this is way better because it’s also an accessibility feature. Are you ready for it?

Volume control for blinkers.

Like a lot of Boomers who went to one (or way) too many concerts, my hearing isn’t entirely up to snuff. As a result, if my blinkers don’t go off automatically, as is often the case on turns of less than 90°, they stay on indefinitely, confusing other drivers.

There you have it. Get to work Ford, GM, Toyota, Honda, and the rest of you guys.

Nag, nag, nag

Posted on by under Generic Rant, Original writing

(A gift post. A little while ago, I found this article filed away as a “draft” in my now deceased blog, “Limping in the Light” *. I must have written it in Days of Yore but never published it. Either I changed my mind or just plain forgot about it. Now it resurfaces to give me a new post with minimal investment. Being the noodge I am, however, it has taken me longer than expected. You can decide whether it was worth it.)

I don’t like nagging and I don’t like being nagged. I don’t know anyone who does. Even the nagger (one who nags, q.v., as opposed to the naggee) doesn’t get anything out of it. (There are those who derive some perverse pleasure from it, but they embody their own punishment.) And it doesn’t work. At best, the nagger gets what was nagged for—with a side of resentment and bitterness—but never what was truly wanted or needed.

Yet I find myself inundated with nagging. Day in, day out, day through, day over, day around. It never ends. No, it’s not from the stereotypical busybody sitcom housewife. There aren’t any of those in my life. The naggers I’m talking about are complete strangers to me. To those badgering bozos, I am less than a number. I am a disembodied statistic in their potential market share. Here’s the problem:

Cable TV** – Don’t have it, don’t want it, won’t get it. I grew up in a time when movie theaters ran ads heralding the prophetic image of a cash-eating box sitting on top of my TV. It came to pass just as they predicted! Paying to watch TV is like paying a fee for the privilege of shopping. (That happens, too, I hear.) Besides, I’m a TV-holic. No one asks alcoholics why they don’t have beer taps in their houses.

Verizon and Comcast don’t get the message. Nag, nag, nag. A week doesn’t pass without getting at least a couple (usually more) ads to sign up for one of their TV plans. I’ve even told them verbally that they are wasting their time and postage. Your cable rates would drop about 5% if they stopped sending me mailings.

Email spam – Fake Rolex watches, generic Viagra, jobs, lower interest rates, college degrees, tech gadgets, not to mention the unmentionables. There is no limit to the crap I am nagged to buy via email. True, those messages all end up in my spam bin only to be deleted, but I know they’re there. Is anyone really responding to these nags?

Phone spam – Lower your interest rates, sell your time-share, clean your chimney, IRS scams, vote for me, give, give, give, nag, nag, nag. Call me without me inviting you to do so and I will refuse whatever you are offering. Actually, I’ll never know because I don’t answer any calls from numbers I don’t recognize. The world would be a lot better off if everyone followed the same practice. (hint, hint)

Credit cards – I average a credit card offer in the mail every day, with batches of up to five arriving in a single day, some for cards I already have. Stop nagging me! If I want a new credit card, I’ll get it, but blind mailings accomplish nothing except cost you, and by inference your customers, large piles of money.

The nagging goes on and on. TV commercials. Billboards. Traffic signs. PC/Windows warnings. I predict that this post alone will elicit at least a few spam messages, “likes”, or “follows”. All of which will be ignored. Nag, nag, nag.

I am pummeled with messages (nags) with all the subtlety of flying mallets. (Thank you, Dave Edmunds, for the metaphor) This is nothing short of brainwashing. That’s the tactic. And you (and I) are the target.

Eventually, unless you are on your guard, you will actually believe that your life will be improved by a Swiffer or Proposition X.X or enhancement pills or this software or that exercise program or some innovative training class. None of them will improve you or your quality of life.

The only thing that would improve my life is if everyone would stop nagging me.

* Perhaps I should resurrect that old blog. The title is once more sadly appropriate, after a long and welcome lapse. Then again, why tempt fate?

** This is the downside of posting an old article. Some concepts from the era in which this was written (not that long ago) are already obsolete. Such is the case with “cable TV”, if you remember what that was. Substitute “streaming service” (e.g. Disney+, Peacock, Max, Netflix, Apple TV, Prime, blah, blah, blah, nag, nag, nag—each one a monthly subscription conspiring to drive you into bankruptcy while frying your brain) or “cell phone plan” and we’re back to the same old song and dance and nag and nag.

106 Years Ago Today

Posted on by under Books, Generic Rant

A BlogSnax© post

In 1919, one of the most bizarre accidents in US history occurred in the city of Boston: the Great Molasses Flood. For the definitive account of the event and its aftermath, I highly recommend Stephen Puleo‘s brilliant book, Dark Tide. Not that it’s in the same league as Mr. Puleo’s fine work, but my novel, A Song in the Storm, which follows a young immigrant girl’s life in the North End of Boston, also mentions the tragedy.

A flood of molasses sounds almost comical, but with 150 injuries and 21 fatalities, ages 10 to 78, it was anything but.