What Do You Mean We Haven't Flattened the Curve?

Your love is like a brief, 3 week virus that lasted a year

The Pope, a lightning rod lately, for his stance on gay marriage, is a great civil rights supporter and just hired his first black cardinal. Cardinal Twenny Five Cent said that he was proud to be at this place at this time in history, and greatly looked forward to performing the duties of his office, if the pope would ever tell him what they were. He stated that we're all one color and wanted to stress this in his teachings, if his job required teachings.

The Pope, a great civil rights supporter, ordered a celebratory dinner of fried chicken, watermelon, and grape soda. Cardinal Twenny, as well as the rest of the Vatican, was aghast.

The cardinal doesn't expect to be in office very long, once the pope discovers he doesn't like little boys.

Today I identify as  artificial sweetener

Russian interference into the upcoming election continues. The data on every American voter is available on a Dark Web site, but no one can afford it.

Dear lefty 

• Any election predictions?
• one guy will win, the others will lose
• people will be very angry, claiming shenanigans for 25 years to come
• sheep and babies will be nervous
• Trump will claim victory regardless, Biden will claim it's a good night for a colonoscopy
• there will be uncomfortable moments, when voters air their grievances; half with pitchforks, half with AR14s.

HIM and HER

HER: You know, I've been waiting 2 years for you to put together this noisemaking sculpture for the front yard.

HIM: 2 years huh?

HER: 2 whole years.

HIM: Maybe there's a reason.

HER: Like what?

HIM: I don't want yet another noisemaker in the front yard and I'm trying to spare the neighbors.

HER: Aw, but it's beautiful and sounds wonderful.

HIM: That's what you said about the last 17 of them.

HER goes out, probably shoe shopping. 

HIM figures he'll score a few points by assembling the hideous noisemaking sculpture that he hasn't put together for 2 years. Maybe he'll get a bj out of it (he's reaching for the stars).

HIM secures all the parts, some larger than the car, and way louder. There sure are a lot of parts to this. He spreads them all over the floor so he can put the thing together. Ummm... there are no instructions, not even IKEA instructions. There's not even a picture so he knows what it's supposed to look like.

HER: Ooooh! Thank you so much for putting together my sculpture!

HEM: Well, let's say I tried. There are no instructions. Not even a picture on the box.

HER: Oh, that's because I put them away.

HIM: You put them away?

HER: Yeah, I didn't want them to get lost.

HIM: Like they are now?

HER: I have them somewhere. I just have to look.

HIM: Had you considered, maybe, putting them with the actual parts themselves? The Space Shuttle can't miss those parts.

HER: I have a system. 

HIM: And how's that workin' out for ya? Well, don't say that I held this up.

• The state of South Australia is the first in the world to be 100% solar energy-supplied
• Obviously, a war is near.

If I had personalities, they'd be at war right now. More and more, I'm trying to cut out some of the more extreme negativity and just use my own (there's enough to power small planets). Yesterday I went to watch one of my favorites, Richard Dolan, and came across a real winner. Regrettably, I have to recommend this. I don't know how this guy sleeps, with all the territory he covers, and the information he comes up with.

CBP Refuses to Tell Congress How it is Tracking Americans Without a Warrant

Hubris like this belongs to Microsoft and Apple. This is your government, you're paying for it, and it feels it doesn't have to tell you things. Why is Customs and Border Patrol tracking Americans? Imagine what the other departments aren't telling you...

Is It Possible that our governments are forward-thinking and not filled with  complete idiots?

Plans were made to give early shots to Santa Clauses.

Nope, not possible.

Asian giant hornets can wipe out a colony of honeybees in hours. The first colony was discovered in the US, and taken out with a vacuum hose. As is government today, one of them was fitted with a tracking device.

Meanwhile in Philadelphia, the mayor said that it's racist to kill Asian giant hornets and they have sanctuary in Philly, along with the illegal aliens. He said the Asian bees are smarter than the American bees because they study harder and the American bees are fat and lazy.

• Louisiana Calls Out National Guard to Fight Ransomware Surge
• is it possible Louisiana has had one too many floods? 

Blood 

The strangest thing happened today: the doctor's office called. This was an actual medical professional, not the guy who vacuums the cobwebs from the door frames. My results from 3 days back were in: I'm dead. I should not be walking around with my blood the way it is. They're sending a meat wagon to the house later today.

Mrs lefty tried to look upset and asked veiled questions about sufficient life insurance.

Penny will not like it when Backup Mom goes away.

I have mixed feelings. If you try to live by logical principles, this dead thing does not square with actual life. Would I be blogging from beyond the veil? Would Mrs lefty hear when I speak? Would City Council continue to ignore me?

Online folks would say, "Oh, I knew he was dead a long time ago" or "His tweets have lacked that living thing lately." 

The only truly sad person would be the pizza guy. I tithe to him. 

In spite of my lack of living state, the doctor would like to see me, either to pronounce me dead or to touch me. I'm not touched by my wife, no less a physician. On the bright side, it would not be a telemedicine visit. Cuz I'm not going to telemed anymore, even dead.

• I am not trying to be That Guy, but I'm wondering how differently kids will grow up, with all the information at their fingertips. Technology will be automatic to them, and the answer to every question will be a search away. This beats the hell out of having to go to the [gasp] library. How will the kids be different? Will they be intellectually stupid? Will they be advanced? Will they still use Google?

A man stole a bulldozer and ran down Biden signs.

Although I prefer tanks, the ballot box is still up - stop being an ass....

• Multiple witnesses notice strange lights over Hawaii sparking UFO frenzy
• can we stop the information hoarding already? 

Happys 

Bootsy Collins

Jon Anderson - Yes

Chad Smith - RHCP, Chickenfoot

Bill Wyman - Rolling Stones

Bye Byes 

Paul Barrere - Little Feat - the end of several eras

Jack Bruce

Welcome to Silicone Valley

Are you short on details about the Boeing 737 MAX fiasco?
Let me help: I will attempt to describe the Boeing 737 MAX situation to you via the Argument Sketch.



737s have been falling out of the sky.

No they haven't.

Yes, they have.

No they haven't.  I'm sorry, are you here for the the FAA version or the NTSB version?

Oh, sorry... the FAA version.

Anyway, no they haven't.

Yes they bloody well have. They fail at the relatively simple act of remaining in the air.

No they don't.

Yes they do. My cousin had a friend that was squashed by one.

No he didn't.

No he didn't what?

Your cousin. He didn't have a friend.

Yes he does.

No he doesn't.

Yes he does.

DING - time's up

Look, the FAA allows more time than this.

I'm sorry, I am not allowed to talk about the FAA, or even the NTSB until Boeing puts out a new aircraft. Wait - Boeing has a new aircraft!

No they don't..

Look here, matey, here's a picture.

That's not a 738 MAX, that's a 737 MAX with the 7 crossed out and an 8 sticker over it.

No it isn't.  Oh, alright, here's $10 billion in loans.

Thank you, but they definitely didn't.

Didn't what?

Change the firmware. In fact, they found another really nasty bug over the weekend.

No they didn't.

Yes they did.

Look, I don't want you to argue about this.

Yes you do.

An argument is a discussion of whether the airlines will require a federal bailout.

No it isn't. An argument decides whether the FAA will bless the 737 MAX with the Flyable Award. Judging from present performance, they won't.

Yes they will.

No they won't. We both know they'll bankrupt the entire company, fire everyone, take away huge bonuses, and magically open up a new airline called Roeing.

No they won't.

Yes they will. And I will further mention that the pilots' association said their membership will not set foot in a 737 MAX until all the problems are worked out (except the French, who have scheduled a riot for it next week).

No they won't. It's going to take more than the demise of a very reliable (til now) plane to bankrupt Boeing.

Aha - I got you: the plane division is not the same as the military contract division, which will never go broke.

No it isn't. Boeing is Boeing.

Further, the NTSB backs the pilots.

No they don't.

Look, if I want to bring the NTSB into this, I bloody well will.

No you won't.

Boeing is working diligently on resolving the issue.

No they're not.

Ok, you got me there.

• Twitter just announced emojis available in DMs
• NO. JUST NO. 

It's so cold outside....
HOW COLD IS IT?
It's so cold that we have to drink a Coke from the fridge to warm us up.


Augmented Reality is the next big thing, says Apple CEO Tim Cook.
We're guessing that it will not be encrypted.

• Cruise's first driverless car doesn't have a steering wheel or pedals.
• So if there's a problem, at least you're sure you're going to die.

I'm nothing if not unfair. Thus I must apologize to Philly for calling it a bottomless pit that only a large fire could improve, that thinks Center City is New York and prices everything accordingly. Today we discovered a $25 parking garage that charges you $5 if you're there under 2 hours and have a restaurant receipt.

What I meant to say is it's a bottomless pit that only a large fire could improve, that thinks Center City is New York and prices everything accordingly, except one really considerate garage. And the gay males stare at me like they haven't had food in 2 weeks and I'm a steak.

UPDATE: just hours after I typed this, I had to drive to Center City. I don't like to drive to Center City, because it involves the worst of every type of automotive bad experience: traffic stopped dead for no apparent reason at 8pm, random lane closures, downtown stupid drivers, highway stupid drivers, random stoppages in lanes so some malnourished rich idiot can run into a restaurant and get something... I can't imagine why anyone would find this fun (and I used to work there).

The city never fails to disappoint and last night was no exception. The new thing seems to be random street closures. They closed every 3rd street, for no reason. Unless the 3rd street was an even-numbered street, in which case they closed every other street. Just to keep you from correctly guessing which street you could use, they closed every street in certain sections. They changed the Welcome sign to "Welcome to Philadelphia - You Can't Get There from Here." After this debacle I foolishly attempted to go home. Oops - the new Neighborhood Beautification Project took all those ugly street signs down, and it was anybody's guess how to get to a large highway. I found more or less where I needed to be, but too bad, 3 lanes going straight had turned into 3 lanes turning right because of... you guessed it... another police lane closure. Because not even in Philly is there room for 3 lanes to turn right, I got thrown onto the highway I wanted, but of course in the opposite direction. I had barely made a noise the entire night, but being downtown always has this effect on me - I screamed like a loon for several minutes, causing William Penn's statue to cover its ears and his bones to rattle in their grave. If you listened closely, you would have heard Mr. Penn saying, "Don't blame me for this shithole."

• Dr. Phil annoys me. Does that put me in the majority for once?

NASA is getting ready to name its Mars 2020 Rover.
The first suggestion rejected was Mars 2020 Rover.
Maybe ThermionicEmissions can help name it...

• It Cost How Much Rover
• Zero to 20 in 10 Minutes Rover
• The Second Rover
• Rover II - this time it's personal
• The Aliens are Messing with Us Rover
• No Fossil Fuels Rover (because we can't find any fossils)
• Bob (my personal favorite)

Speaking of which....

• Mars Rover frozen in place following software error
• Microsoft force-updated it to Win 10 

Boeing, a recent favorite target, for killing 346 people, is in even deeper today. The software fix to make it flyable won't happen in the near future and due to certification, may be several more months. Their new slogan: Boeing - Failed to Fly. The company has officially stopped building the plane until it gets the OK.

• a brothel owner was detained for pouring Viagra in the water of his town.
• Oddly, no local women were available for comment.

The first chocolate chip cookies in space took 2 hours to bake.
No offense, but people with Alzheimers don't take that long.




I went to a new doctor the other day.
He seemed surprised that I hadn't seen a doctor in 10 years.
I seemed surprised that he didn't have a lot of really attractive nurses.
He said I needed a colonoscopy and prostate exam.
He put a finer point on it by disagreeing that every 10 years was a fine space between prostate exams.
"What is your focus on the butt?" I asked. "May I recommend a mental health professional?"
He suggested bloodwork. More than suggested - he gave me a paper the size of War and Peace, that the techs told me would require blood draws every week or so because they need so much of it.
I told him I passed out at the sight of blood. He felt sorry for me and scratched off 1 test.
I recommended the best pizza in the area. He grew up down the street from it.
I finally won when I lectured him on the importance of left-handed ergonomic mice and proper ergonomic posture to avoid carpal tunnel and various other infirmities (none affecting the butt).

• How much longer will we trust Google's search results?
• Do we trust them now? 

I want to warn you in advance about this next subject. It will shock you to your very soul. If you insist upon reading it, at least sit down in a comfortable chair, so there's less room to fall to the floor:

The surveillance video taken from outside Jeffrey Epstein's jail cell on the day of his first apparent suicide attempt has been permanently deleted, federal prosecutors said. Epstein, the disgraced financier who was facing federal sex-trafficking charges, was found semiconscious in his cell at the Metropolitan Correctional Center, or MCC, in New York around 1:27 a.m. on July 23. But that video is now gone because MCC officials mistakenly saved video from a different floor of the federal detention facility. The FBI made the discovery last week while reviewing a copy of the video provided by MCC officials. "After reviewing the video, it appeared to the government that the footage contained on the preserved video was for the correct date and time, but captured a different tier than the one where [the cell housing Epstein and his cellmate] was located.” The filing was made in a case involving Nicholas Tartaglione ... who was Epstein's cellmate on the day of the incident. The July incident was investigated as a possible suicide attempt, assault or ruse by Epstein to get himself transferred to a different facility. Tartaglione's attorney, as part of an effort to exonerate his client, asked the jail to preserve video from outside the cell. The MCC agreed, but "the MCC computer system listed a different, incorrect cell for Tartaglione," prosecutors said in the court filing. A backup video system was in place, but the requested video wasn't available because of unspecified "technical errors," the court filing says. 

I am sorry to be the one to bring this to you, but I thought it would be less startling coming from ThermionicEmissions.

• Scientists discover why stress turns hair white.
• Voting.

London police to deploy facial recognition cameras across the city.
NO.
C'mon, is this sort of thing acceptable? In addition to their already ubiquitous surveillance? Don't forget - England and Australia are test beds for things to come....



Heroes of the Stupid

On a paranormal discussion show, a reader called in and asked how she could get in touch with the aliens. The host asked why. She said the aliens could help her out with her teeth.   Ok.

Bernie Sanders' Deputy Digital Communications Director locked her Twitter account.



SJW Statistics

"trad wives" are white supremacist women who devote themselves to domestic duties in the service of perpetuating the white race. It is a dog whistle to sound less white supremacist than it is.     Twitter -  @beccalew

A delightful frequent-flyer, Jessica Yaniv (WAX MY BALLS!) has been arrested and charged with assault. The same day, she (falsely) accused a journalist of sexual assault. As Canadian justice goes, Yaniv was "released back into the community," with a Friday court appearance.  I hope her balls are waxed by that time.

Elizabeth Warren (D-Uranus) promises her cabinet will be "at least 50% filled by women and non binary people."  They don't even have to have any qualifications - just woman and non binary! What a great step forward for Indiankind.

Taking and tweeting a picture of a woman breastfeeding is the foundation of fascism: stigmatizing basic care and empathy and promoting (species/cis/white) supremacy.

Inventions, Stats, and Outright Lies

Speaking of anniversaries, ThermionicEmissions is coming up on a big one: at the end of this month, it will be a year and a half since the last comment on the blog.  Sure, lefty, bitch at the people who are brave and nice enough to read the blog in the first place.

• Speaking of Portugal, we had a mad rush last week from Canada. Heh heh. Get it? Rush from Canada? No, seriously, lots of Canadian visitors. And one from Portugal.
• Don't ask me - I just read the stats and look at the pretty colored charts.

The Great Ant Battle of 2018 continues. They show up in weird places... you'd think they'd go after food, which is what insects (and little brothers) do. Not these ants. These guys are after something else. The only problem is that no one has any idea what it is.

Sure, they'll show up where there's food... that's easy. But we find them in the bathrooms. I found them in my office. Nothing alive or dead is in my office, with the possible exception of me. No food, no ancient dog treats, no decaying former guests, and definitely NO dessicated local tax assessors. The only organic matter in that room is occasionally ME. I hope they're not after me, like most other things in the universe.

Maybe some nefarious entity has spliced in some African Killer Bee DNA, rendering the ants nasty, with a taste for blood. A theory about assassination ants is no more strange than any other theory (especially for this blog). 

Somebody told the wife that where there's one ant, there's a ton of ants you can't see. She takes this to heart, so when she sees one, she puts on her Sherlock Holmes hat, with 2 brims, so you can't tell whether she's coming or going, and does some deteckin' work, hunting down the little $&@^ers. One day they appeared to be coming from the dishwasher. She actually spent a while tracing them back. It's a good thing the cabinets are firmly attached to the walls or I'd be even more afraid to go in the kitchen. Then she pulls out the Big Guns... an industrial size yellow gallon container of Everything Killer, with an actual pump and spray gun. It's extremely effective for killing ants. It's also extremely effective at stinking, so you need to plan your strategy carefully. Except for last night, when she found about two hundred of them, having a party in the bedroom. I don't know about you, but if I'm not having a party in the bedroom, no one else is either. She fired, ridding the place of live ants. Did I mention this was the bedroom? In which we sleep? Which was now unfit for human habitation... even Monsanto wouldn't come within a mile of the house. They know why too.

The other gun is some sort of natural ant killer which is harmless to humans, dogs, and sometimes ants. I kid - it works about as well as the yellow gallon, and somehow manages to smell almost as bad. How do natural ingredients manage to smell like chemicals? Maybe the manufacturer added a chemical scent so the customers would think it was working. And now I'm finding a few on my desk. And on my left leg only. Even natural spray isn't all that good for computers and stuff, so it can't be deployed. In some cases it would be nice to say the only interesting thing in the room is me, but not this time.

The prevailing theory is the ungodly amount of rain we've had lately. It's the prevailing theory because no one brought up another theory.  I really need to get some picture of her kills. There was the Battle of the Drying Rack, where thousands died.  The Battle of the Upstairs Bathroom, where bodies flew far and wide. The Battle of the Kitchen Molding, where hundreds were marching, on the way to some top secret target. The aforementioned Battle of the Bedroom, where the casualties were beyond counting. The most senseless slaughter happened during the Battle of the Downstairs Bathroom Molding on the Outside of the Bathroom. I may not be an ant (I'm not...really) but I can't figure out what's so wonderful about molding. You know what they say: it's not the destination, it's the journey.

The latest news involves the Battle of the Office. A favorite internet suggestion was to interrupt their reproduction, as opposed to killing them outright.  We bought a rather large box of this stuff, hoping for some relief. How in the known universe does one apply 5,000 ant condoms?

So we returned that box (Amazon is really good with returns) and went to Plan B; the Morning Before Pill. A trap is set, with micro doses of Ambien. The ants eat it, and immediately become confused, then head off to dreamland. At some point they wake up, whether they know it or not, and become so disoriented, all six legs start moving in different directions. If they manage to find their pad, they go in and stumble about for a while, eventually passing out in their little ant beds. Or on the floor. When they finally arise, the Ambien has rendered them sterile so no more ants. The moral of the story is to stay away from Ambien, lest you become confused and sterile.

• How to stop your smart tv from tracking you. This goes over how to stop your information from leaking, featuring instructions covering several brands.

Work

So I'm enjoying the hell out of my new job, which is exactly like my old job, only with a different name on the checks.  This is a job in which a brain comes in handy. Rarely is any day like any other. But no matter how hard or different the job is, nothing comes close to the overwhelm and sheer terror of benefits selections. There are more health insurances than I've ever seen. With all sorts of bizarre names, having nothing to do with anything identifiable. I made a point of asking if they cover pets, hoping that I'd be employed after asking. No, they do not. How many times have you had to decide between a lot of insurers? It took four days to get up the steam to start looking at them. Wife asked me why I was shaking my head. Apparently I do that when I'm disgusted. Don't ask me - I can't see me when I'm doing it. If you have a shortcut to making this less of a herculean task, please share it with us. Otherwise you have to go through each insurance and figure out what they cover. There's a compare button online, that lets you compare up to three insurers. Three. You still have to figure out if they will cover your specific needs. After what felt like four weeks, but was in fact three weeks, I made a selection. I should have done this weeks ago. I closed my eyes and pointed to a spot on the screen, choosing the insurance under my index finger. Statistically this produces better results than making huge spreadsheets, especially when you can't remember all the shortcuts and commands for spreadsheets. Of course I'm kidding.. I asked my coworker what he has and selected that. 

I have a great dental plan. In fact I've had a great dental plan at the last three jobs, but don't use it because I'm terrified to go there. Since I'm telling on myself, I might as well admit I don't go to the doctor either. I'm not terrified of the doctor, so I have no idea why I don't go. It definitely doesn't have anything to do with the serious lack of very attractive medical assistants, no sir. I can even let them take blood without passing out (me, hopefully not them). Maybe I'm just ridiculously healthy and my body knows it, keeping me from wasting time (and that nice doctor with the gloved finger...at least he says he's a doctor). Ok, ok, I'll go this year; I promise. I've had the same blood slip for five years. I should ask for a new one...the labs probably stopped doing some of those tests. And I ain't letting no one near my cervix until I find out what a cervix is.

Please don't make me look at the life insurance or whatever the hell those other forms are for. Maybe I'll ask Benefits to pick them for me and buy the department some pizza.

It's a nice place to work, provided you don't have any computer problems. I've been in computers for all of my life, so I'm somewhat familiar with them. They're large purple things, the size of a trailer park. Very Smart People set up these computers so the users can't mess with them. This scheme has saved the company millions in User Assisted Screwups and viruses. Unfortunately, anything that goes wrong requires someone with the correct permissions to assist you. The only people with the correct permissions are the good people at the service desk. But you have to put in a service ticket first. The service desk has four hours to contact you. They forgot to put the 2 in front of the 4. Every time something breaks, we do the Service Dance. I put in a service ticket, then email, call, and text them. They always get back to me within 72 hours. Right about 72 hours every time, during which I am working with a broken or seriously disabled computer. I asked my boss about this one day. He didn't seem at all surprised about this. Apparently it's institutional. Not getting my work done is also institutional, judging from some of my coworkers. I'm old school - I don't get this. Plus I used to do this work.

I don't want to get down on the department; I had enough of that when I did it. The techs are all nice and helpful. This points to Manglement. Perhaps gross understaffing. I really don't care - I just want my friggin computer fixed (jackass). After waiting 72 hours, they managed to fix it. For damn near an hour. I called, phoned, and texted them to let them know. Expecting another 72 hours, they pleasantly surprised me by only making me wait 24 hours. This also failed to fix the problem. They're going to try again tomorrow. Or at least that's what they told me.  Maybe it's their fault after all... they have this 24/7 party/orgy happening, which they leave every 6 hours to take a call and promise something they have no intention of delivering. Sure - we'll get with you first thing in the morning and get you all fixed up. Yesterday, first thing in the morning was 1pm. The thing that upsets me most is not getting invited to their parties.

• We received another card from the vet. A donation has been made In Marshall's name to the University of Pennsylvania's Animal Hospital and teaching facility; number one in the area.
• his spirit, personality, and fight touched a lot of people.

We're on a list for another rescue dog, because we didn't learn the first time. Or the second time. Or even the third time. The house is so empty. If we don't do something now, this blog truly will document my journey into madness, as joked about earlier.

Way way back, before any of us were born, cocker spaniels split off into American cockers and English cockers. Americans are the smallest sporting breed, at up to 28 lbs or so. They have short snouts and a merry temperament. English cockers are larger, taller, and more broad, with a longer snout and the same merry temperament. We're on the list for an English cocker. I had one when I was a little terror. Looked almost exactly like this guy:

English cocker in "blue roan"

young American cocker in black

Airport Facts

A fascinating program I saw a bit of was on people moving in airports. Apparently someone sat in airports and observed people. On coming across people walking at them, Asians move to the right and Europeans move to the left. If they're coming at each other, they crash.

They also went into signage. The fellow in charge of signs said "Less is more".
From my two years of high school math:

If less=more then more=less
More air over the plane wing causes less pressure = lift
Plane lift = flying
Flying = cramped seating with screaming infants and a little bastard kicking the back of your seat
Cramped seating = a bad experience, possibly involving cramps
A bad experience = a worse experience picking up your baggage
Difficulty picking up your bags = hostility to airport personnel
Therefore: less=more creates airport personnel fatalities, so keep the food and souvenirs at affordable prices.


The average human hands carry 100 species of bacteria, requiring a war against disease outbreaks.

The runway's biggest problem is birds, which can cause fatal outcomes if they get sucked into the plane's engines, not to mention what the bird feels when shredded by a humongous Rolls Royce airplane engine.  Remember Sully, the pilot who landed his plane in the Hudson River? He had no engines because of bird strikes. My solution: use imprisoned gang members to shoot at them. It's a win-win and a much better shot (sorry) at criminal rehabilitation. It would also be less expensive than designing a laser-guided bird annihilator, assuming the military doesn't already have one.

Or they could rid the place of mice, which attract foxes and birds, which hunt the little $&#ers.

• As if the food weren't enough to keep you away, fast food restaurants are using facial recognition 'to remember how you like your burger'. It's almost everywhere, even in Walmart's parking lots. Mall stores are also using surveillance techniques, whether they're detecting your phone or your face combined with your purchase.
• The main need for remembering who you are is so the restaurant can remember how to screw up your order uniformly.
• Facial recognition software isn't all that accurate, especially on black people. So if you go anywhere with this software, make sure you identify as black.

Chester Bennington - RIP - and Suicide

This is my maudlin, whiny plea after someone kills himself.

Just a short time after the suicide of Chris Cornell, we learn that Chester Bennington (singer - Linkin Park, STP) hung himself.  ThermionicEmissions sends condolences to family, friends, and fans... we're sorry for your loss. Chester was 41 and left behind six children, from two different wives.

My friend in the music industry says it's partially the industry's fault. I'm not sure if I subscribe to the theory but hear it out and draw your own conclusions. He says the artists are allowed and encouraged to go their own way, regardless of possible harm... this makes money for everybody.  The handlers and those around the artist should be aware of self-destructive tendencies, as well as signs of depression, and act accordingly. I agree with this part.

We could all benefit from learning signs and symptoms. Depression is a terrible, painful thing, and it affects many more than you think. Much like with alcohol and drugs, you cannot fix the problem - the person has to be willing. This does not mean you can't be there to listen or maybe urge them toward help just a little.


If you're thinking of hurting or killing yourself...

Stop.
Back it up a second.

Did you know you don't have to feel like this?
A lot of people grow up with this, not knowing it's not normal. They just feel like shit. Eventually they or someone recognizes it and they get some help.

Yeah, help.
If it's an emergency, call the National Suicide Hotline 1-800-273-TALK (8255). Maybe even if it's not. They have people you can talk to who can help you out and direct you to other resources.

If you have family, talk to them. Maybe they can lend a hand - or an ear.
Talk to your friends. One of them might be depressed or know someone who is. There are online support communities. Misery loves company.

Your county/city has a mental health office. If you can't find it, call the county or city main line and ask them. They're there to help you.

It's time to see someone. Someone who sees this all day long, every workday. You are not the only one to feel this way. Through talk and possibly meds, you can feel better.


You may think that everyone's better off without you...

You're wrong.
You're in a lot of pain now and it might be hard to hear but you're wrong.
Do you have family? Friends? A significant other? A pet? Online buddies? Somebody you chat with at the store?

You are going to leave a trail of devastation in your wake.

You might think it's just a little adjustment for them and they'll go on.
You're wrong.
Death isn't one and done: death is forever. It stays with you and you never get over it.

Try something for me, please: pick someone you love. A parent, grandparent, brother, sister, good friend, dog...  they can be living or not. Put just the two of you in a room. Now look them in the eye and tell them you are going to kill yourself. Wait a moment and listen to their answer. You are going to leave a trail of devastation in your wake.  Do you want that?


Yes, Mr. Know-it-All...

My wife suffers from a number of chronic illnesses; among them, bipolar disorder. When she gets depressed, sometimes it doesn't stop there and heads straight for the depths of hell. This resulted in suicide attempts. Through proper medication and therapy, she learned to at least be alert to her feelings. If she starts thinking about hurting herself, she goes to the hospital, where she hangs out until the urge passes and she learns some new coping skills.

Let's talk about devastation.
One day, a long time ago, my wife had to go to the hospital. She awoke in the emergency room, hooked up to all sorts of machines. She was terrified. Then she looked around the room at her best friend and her husband, who didn't know if she was going to make it. They were a wreck. She thought of her family, including a sister who fell and died, and the effects on the family. Right then, she swore there would be no more of this. She was in pain, but never really experienced the effects her actions would have on those around her.

I don't like talking about any of this but maybe it will help someone.
I felt miserable most of my life. It wasn't right. Well into adulthood it finally hit me: I wasn't supposed to feel this way (not very quick on the draw, am I?).  I was diagnosed with depression. It took a while to get the meds right, during which I got pretty low. I could sit in a chair for days, angry or sad or generally miserable, unable to do much of anything that involved getting off the chair. I would never hurt or kill myself.. it's not remotely possible. But at that time, I understood why people killed themselves. Fortunately I don't go there anymore.

Please learn from our experience. Please read it again if you're not convinced. Reach out.. you have absolutely nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Here Comes the Noise Again

I like to tell people we live in a nice, quiet neighborhood, right up until we moved in, but that's not correct. We're pretty quiet too, surprisingly. We only have odd bursts of noise, like the TRASH TRUCKS. There are three of them, plus both sides of the street, so we get treated to six trucks stopping at every house, with all the noise involved, up and down the block, for as long as we can hear them. Plus the lady who blows her #*@&ing horn at 7:05 every morning for no known reason, perhaps rudely picking up some brat or other. And the mailman, who Marshall used to bark at. Marshall's getting older and isn't always aware that his mortal enemy is coming up the steps, but once a day or so, Marshall sits on his own steps and barks at someone or something I can't see.

I love Marshall but...

Speaking of trash, if you care to look, you can tell which neighbors are retired or not working by their Trash Patterns.  What are Trash Patterns, you ask?? Glad you asked. Trash Patterns are when they put the trash cans to the curb and when they move them back to the house.

It is said that good neighbors take care of each other but this was never more apparent than when my wife started to let loose that she knew an awful lot about the comings and goings of the neighbors. The guy across the street must be sick, because he goes to work every morning at 7:17 and his car has been in his garage all week. Next door usually goes to church every morning but hasn't the past two days - I hope she's ok. There's a Monty Python sketch about this (there's a Monty Python sketch about everything, as it should be), with two women running the equivalent of the early 1970's NSA in their apartment, one reporting what she sees and the other bringing it up on one of their monitors. My wife needs no monitors.. she can tell everything from sitting on the step or just looking out the window. She also catalogs the dogs that walk by and sometimes their owners. It's weird but consistent that people always remember the names of the dog but not always their owner.  "Hey, remember Max's mom? She's having surgery this week. I forget her name."

Let me wander back to Trash Patterns. The Crazy Lady, who recently celebrated her 439th birthday, puts her trash out the night before collection. My wife can tell you what time, but no doubt it's militarily consistent. In the span between 6.7 and 9.6 minutes after the trash trucks have left, The Crazy Lady emerges from her hole and drags each humongous can back to the safety of her Can Spot. I know she has a Can Spot but dare not make a note of where. Then there's the old retired dude across the street, who in spring and summer camps out on his lawn with coffee and a lounger, waiting for the trucks to come. As soon as they've driven down the street, he marches out, also with military precision, and puts them perfectly back in their place, because everything has a place to ensure Order. This dude either needs a hobby or is desperate to get away from his wife, thus turning trash into a multi-hour escapade, after which he goes back inside and cleans off his hand tools, that haven't been used since the last time he cleaned them.

But I digress. Always.

• The doctor asked me if I have any trouble sleeping. NOPE. Sleeping is something I'm very good at. No problem there, Doc.

Yahoo announced another breach. This is in addition to the last breach they announced. Just in case, change any Yahoo passwords you have. Better yet, close them. Yahoo needs to get their act together, perhaps starting with some heads rolling.

• In Merry Olde England, a Coca Cola delivery to a theater was canceled after a huge brawl. The truck (lorry in England) pulled up to the theater to deliver his soda and parked. A traffic warden objected to the parking location and let the driver know. The driver protested that he had all his paperwork. The warden said there would be no room for emergency vehicles, at which point the driver let him know that there was enough space on either side of the truck to park a small army. The warden was not impressed and started 'waving a finger with intent to scorn.' I love that phrase. The violence in the waving and scorning is most apparent. After this, the warden's hat was knocked off.
• For some reason known only to the warden, the warden began throwing cans of soda out of the lorry. Within minutes, more wardens arrived. Glass started breaking. Four riot vans arrived. All in all, fourteen people were involved in The Great Soda Riot of 2016. Presumably it was difficult to purchase soda at the theater ($7.95 each) and the had to settle for tea ($6.95).

Continuing our International Flair, the Chileans are in an uproar because a Cabinet minister received a blowup doll as a present. I truly wish this was the United States' biggest issue. Blowup dolls for everyone!

• Police in Mt Laurel, NJ, received a call about four suspicious donkeys behind a house. Apparently this was not a common sight, as the non-specific donkeys don't get reported.

Just in time for Christmas, a Tacoma, WA, elementary school's satan club opened. Naturally there were protests. The best quote from the protesters was, 

“These 5-year-old children are very impressionable; if you have an adult come in and talk about Satan, they’re going to be harmed by that."  

Make no mistake, the First Amendment states that this is a no-no. Period. But some judges decide on a 'compromise,' where all religions are allowed to participate. Lately this pattern ends right after the satanists put on their display. At this point, the Christians decide to tear the satanists' display down when nobody's looking and then reconsider their standpoint on anybody doing this on government grounds.

Hillary

huntin. Yes, women all over the neighborhood are going into the woods, hopeful for a Hillary sighting. Unconfirmed rumors state that the RNC is raising funds to lay bear traps. Here's Freddy, the largest dog in the world. The Great Dane stands 7'1" on his rear paws, which is a really silly way to measure a dog. Aside from being tall, Freddy also went through 23 couches. Although Guinness certifies Freddy as the largest dog, there is no word on whether he has the record for Couch Destruction.

Today's information breach occurred at PayAsUGym, further proving there's absolutely no value to exercise and in most cases, it's dangerous. 300,000 accounts were affected.

Academics at Oxford University are being offered therapy in case they've been disturbed by their research. Perhaps it's time to wall off a section of the blog, to be called The Snowflake Report.

• For those of you considering a vacation this holiday season, here's a bit of text from an FAA.gov summary: Please reboot your Boeing 787 at most, every 21 days. Otherwise it might reboot while in flight. Do not run your plane on Windows.

Yes, Deer...

No, I didn't spell that incorrectly.  More later.

How was your week?  I ask because mine was a real doozy.

So it's Thursday night and I'm waiting for the wife to pick me up from work.  I leave at four.  Round about four thirty, I called her, wondering where she was.  Round about five, she returned the call, apologizing profusely for falling asleep and telling me she was on her way.

Closing in on six, I got another call: she had hit a rock and gotten a flat.  Triple-A was forty five minutes away, so she'd be really late.

An hour later, guess what?  Yet another call.  Triple-A hadn't exactly appeared yet, although she had been on the phone with them for a while, attempting to give directions to the apparently direction-impaired soul driving the truck.

I don't know about you but I'd think that a national auto rescue corporation would have something of a sense of direction or at least a GPS.  Old school maps, maybe?

But no.

Another hour later, another call.  This time she called Triple-A and was told the direction-impaired driver terminated the request, which was her prerogative.  Unfortunately, nobody bothered to tell my wife; neither Sparky the driver nor the dispatcher.  This caused the entire process to start again.

You'd think a national auto rescue agency would have more than one driver in a large metropolitan area.  Still, it would be up to another hour.

Meanwhile at work, it's getting pretty bleak.  The entire crew has left for the day and I'm holding down the fort.  If I were the easily shakeable sort, I'd be terrified.  Instead I was bored.  Horribly bored.  So bored that I had to resort to doing my own work.  And maybe watching a little South Park.

The next wifely call revealed that the battery was dead.  Why?  Because Sparky the Direction-Impaired driver told my wife to leave the headlights on so she could be located easier.  Meanwhile the occupant of the house in front of which my wife was broken down, wandered over to inquire what she was doing parked across her driveway.  Once explained, she was terribly accommodating, offering food and a rest room, just in case.

Eventually a second driver showed up and had the car running in no time.  He was polite, had no trouble finding her at all and really wanted to assist her.

Closing in on ten pm, I was rescued from work.


FRIDAY

My wife said she'd be at Pep Boys first thing in the morning, bless her, to get the bad tire replaced (we had a warranty).  I took the opportunity to sleep late.

Unfortunately so did my wife. Or rather, her alarm slept late.

Off I went to Pep Boys, in a flurry of loving epithets and general four-letter verbal exercises.  Pep Boys, to their credit, jumped right on matters.

I somehow managed to VPN into work, thus becoming the first member of my department ever to work from Pep Boys.

Hours later, I had my replaced tire.  Too many hours, in fact, to efficiently return to work, so I went home.

While home, my wife informed me she couldn't find her credit cards.

Yes, the Tire Incident had morphed into a Missing Credit Card incident. [I am not blaming any organization or person, other than perhaps my wife for not having had them stapled to her forehead].

I had a doctor's appointment at seven.  Something looked odd about the car.  Of course something looked odd - I had a flat.  Yes, another flat - this time on a different tire.

Cursing Pep Boys and the Universe in general, I tore through the trunk, looking for our poor excuse for a spare and the tools necessary to change it.   Naturally the tire was in plain sight but the tools had entered the fifth dimension, which is located either at the very bottom of a car's trunk or the very bottom of a woman's pocketboot.

Continuing to curse, I somehow managed to change the tire with enough time to get to the doctor's.
While there, I inquired whether he had gotten a referral from my primary.

Oops.

Didn't he talk to me about this?  He just went cash-only.  No insurance.

Oh.

Well, that was awkward.
And wasn't his fee exactly the amount of money I had for the week?

Meanwhile, my wife had taken the entire day off and was spending it snoring on the couch.  As she had given up sleep for lent forty years ago, I left her alone.

SATURDAY

Back among the living, the wife took care of her missing credit cards and license, then went back, again, to Pep Boys.  Pep Boys fixed the issue with haste.

I don't know what they did to my car but it tends to veer toward Pep Boys whenever it sees one.

SUNDAY

After a day of rest, we were off to visit friends.

SMASH - out of the supermarket, we were almost hit.
BLORP - fifteen minutes later we narrowly avoided hitting yet another kamikaze deer.


Go ahead - tell me it's not personal.

Hospitals are Bad for Your Health

My nephew had a spot of bad luck lately.  While riding his cycle, he attempted to take out some lady's windshield with his body.  He succeeded and the results were most unattractive.  Fortunately he's alive and not at all hideously disfigured.  He was taken to the local trauma center for the county, where they have taken great care of him.  If he ever wonders how people feel about him, he needs only to discover the flood of people in the waiting room the night of the accident.  Even the hospital employees were impressed.

Mrs. leftystrat went to visit her nephew the other day and liked the place so much, she decided to stay a while.  Somebody noticed her getting wobbly and they gave her a free ride to the emergency room.  Two event-filled days later, she was discharged with no idea what happened.  The doctors were clueless and the discharge summary was riddled with errors and inconsistencies.

This was the same hospital.

We have a genuine healthcare crisis- this is no secret.  It's badly broken and waiting for collapse.  Meanwhile we pay and pay (recurring theme, regardless of industry).  I have some suggestions for hospitals, doctors, and patients to make things more efficient, hopefully resulting in less cost.


HOSPITALS / DOCTORS

• Talk to the patient.  Explain things concisely.  Be sure they understand.  Don't talk down.
• When you transfer a patient, WRITE THINGS DOWN.  COMMUNICATE.  The new unit will then know what happened and can treat the patient accordingly.
• Don't be an ass - the situation is tough enough already.
• Don't give canned/useless answers.  The patient is (hopefully) not an idiot.
• "What's the matter?" is not a confidence-inspiring question to ask family.
• When you are told the information is in the chart, don't tell the patient it isn't or you don't have it.
• Outside doctors prescribed meds for the patient: you should dispense them.  If you have a problem, contact the prescribing doctor - don't ignore the situation.
• Every action should not involve six hours of waiting for a doctor or paperwork.

PATIENTS

• Question everything.
• If you are not satisfied with an answer, ask again until you are.
• If the person you ask can't provide an answer, ask for someone who can.
• Hold staff to promises or deadlines.
• Question everything.
• Follow up.  If you didn't get the test results, make a call.
• If you aren't able, have a spouse, friend or family member act as your advocate.
• Keep all of your vital information up to date for you and your advocate.
• Question everything.

Things have changed drastically over the years.  People used to consider doctors infallible and unquestionable.  That might have worked before HMOs but now it's a recipe for bad health.  Many doctors and staff are horribly overworked and might miss something important.  Your health is YOUR responsibility - ignore it at your own peril.

If you are a passive patient, things will just happen to you.  You could stay in the hospital days longer than necessary.  Your care may be substandard.  You may receive unwanted, painful procedures that aren't necessary.  You may get the wrong meds or insufficient meds.  Know your meds and all important information.  Write it down. 

Example: My wife spent a day at the mercy of the hospital, largely getting nowhere.  The following day she started asking questions and taking down names.  The care improved exponentially and she was discharged by noon.  Even the head nurse complimented her on her ability to advocate for herself and make things happen.  Things happened for her on her schedule, not the doctors'.  This was all because she acted, even though great care should be standard.

Do you want to be a passive patient or do you want good healthcare?

The E-Word

I didn't realize it at first but I've lived my life in a certain way.  Now that I'm more or less middle-aged, I think it's safe to come out of the closet and speak on this topic a bit.  I didn't have far to go out of said closet, as anyone who knows me will attest.

As I tell people who expect me to lift boxes, "I'm a knowledge worker.  Lift it yourself."

You see, my enemy is out there in plain sight: it's exercise.  I don't believe in it.  It's foul and evil and all the rest of that kind of stuff that brings people out into the streets to violate the rights of others.

Let's face it: if you run, you get a heart attack and die.  If you swim, you get a heart attack, drown and die.  Do you really want that for yourself?  I sure as hell don't.

It all happened at the doctor last week.  Before I had a chance to lecture him on keeping patients (specifically this one) waiting for close to an hour, he said I needed to exercise.  I told him I lift one hundred ninety pounds every morning: I get out of bed.  Not flustered at all, he said that was insufficient.

I told him I walk all day at work.   No good.

He suggested I walk the dog.  I suggested that's what fenced yards are for.

Undaunted, he told me to walk inside the fence with the dog.

You have to admire the inventiveness and sheer tenacity of the learned doctor, not to mention his willingness to screw with me.

Then he pulled out the Big Guns<tm>: if I didn't exercise, he would prescribe additional medicine.  I reminded him that the last time he tried that, I learned a new word [akathisia - technical term for ants in your pants or skin crawling], which required two additional medicines to quiet down.

I only had one card left.... the last physician who suggested I exercise had to deal with the description of what happened when I tried.  How I watched the seconds portion of the display until my time was done.  How I sweated, groaned, then took a nap afterward.  He told me that it didn't seem worth it and I should stop exercising, if it caused me that much grief.

New Doc remained unimpressed.



So now I have to farking exercise.

He said all I had to do was ten or fifteen minutes of walking daily.  It was no big deal; he does it.  I reminded him that he was not morally opposed to exercise, as was I.  He sat there and continued to stare at me as if I had sprouted a third head.

Now every molecule in my body is screaming at me (and I haven't started exercising yet).  It goes against everything for which I stand: you know; land yachts, chocolate cream pie, and the sedentary lifestyle.

Wish me luck.