I've figured there's a camera around somewhere no matter where I go, with the possible exception of the bathroom, and gave up worrying about it a
long time ago.
Well, yeah, my current concern is mostly on the
theoretical level, as the cat is very much out
of the bag. Back in the '70s when I was working
in grad school and became familiar with computers
and what they could do, I predicted that they
would be the end of privacy as we knew it, and
shortly after decided to have nothing to do with
them or, when I did get a PC, this new Internet
thing. I'm of two minds now. Fido would be better
off, I think, with a cooling-off period such as
provided by the built-in time lag of the packet
system.
Indeed it is. Don't imagine that whatever
you electronically disseminate in any way
is immune from all sorts of scrutiny,
whether automated or personalized.
I kind of figured. I've googled posts of mine made on Usenet 20+ years ago and found them. It's all out there.
Scary if you think about it too much.
I'm not seeing a big bird flopping under your feet on the rug, but I
get
what you mean.
We were talking about trained raptors earlier;
the damage caused by passivized animals coming
along on a parallel train of thought.
Damage from poorly maintained track is another story. Poorly maintained trains of thought are possibly the worst of all.
Here (now in Boston, half a mile from the
occasionally injurious Red Line) the news
is that over 40 MBTA engineers have had
multiple driving-licence suspensions and
revocations, including one with 39 such,
including 2 DUI and 16 reckless operations.
The track and the cars are not in the best
shape, but the personnel are worse.
The last one I went to was in a college auditorium. There were a few tuxes there and a few nice dresses. The rest? Pffft. Whatever.
Were you in college at the time?
Nope - long after. A friend was performing and had spare tickets.
The best ticket is a comp ticket.
Dogÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿs Nose
categories: beer, mull, Dickensian
Someone actually drank this?
You can wonder that, but it was widely enjoyed in
19th-century England.
I like the dog's nose growing longer and longer.
Desperation, probably.
Enjoyed being the key term.
Then again they ate kidneys too.
Kidneys are a fine food. A hundred million
doggies and kitties can't all be wrong.
I'd prefer the porter, frankly; I'm not a light-colored beer person.
Brown ale is quite brown and very unhoppy
in general.
...which probably would make me happy. Or hoppy, as the case may be.
Easter is over, thank you.
+
My norm has been 160-170 for quite a while.
Now it's in the mid-140s, and when I zoomed
up to 148 a couple days that seemed to be a
major concern. My 34" pants are just the right
size (I briefly had to wear Lilli's late
husband's 33s).
Eep. That might be cause for alarm indeed.
At the most distressing I found a pair of 32s
that were just fine, but they were generously
sized. I haven't been a 32 since I was in school.
improves both. Those sauces tend to be fairly bland.
Make your own!
It's been known to happen.
It should happen all the time. Of course, you
have the additional factor of the couponing
thing, but that gets you inferior product.
Sometimes. Also the factor of increasing physical disability and a time crunch. Some days standing around and cooking isn't in the cards.
Then do something besides jarred tomato sauce,
which though predictably mediocre is
predictably mediocre.
Not too hard, but paying someone $5 so you
have the opportunity to cart away their trash,
that doesn't seem too great.
The person who donated it gets rid of something they didn't need or want
any more, I get something useful, and a church gets some money. To me that sounds like a win all the way around. It's even better when it's gold or silver jewelry bought under melt weight, but....
If it happens to be useful.
Exactly. One of the dangers of this instant
publishing scheme that is the Internet is that
bad ideas and speculations are given artificially
inflated lifespans.
And they stick around forever.
That's the ultimate inflated lifespan.
That's an incredible price for any kind of
semi-reputable chocolate. Even the list price
wasn't too awful.
It's not the greatest stuff, but it's not meant for eating out of hand.
I've had some Israeli KforP eating chocolate too, here and there; it's not worth the price of admission.
Some of my ex-Israeli friends swear by
the stuff and have offered me some; I
tend to agree more with you.
Cornmeal crusted catfish Desert Solitaire
categories: main, American, fish
Serves: 4 to 8
4 catfish fillets (10 oz ea) halved lengthwise
2 eggs
1/2 c milk
1 1/2 c cornmeal
1/2 c all-purpose flour
1 Tb chili powder
1 Tb garlic powder
herbs (optional)
1/2 ts salt
2 c bacon fat
For the batter. In a large mixing bowl lightly
scramble eggs and whisk in milk. In a separate bowl
mix/sift together flour, cornmeal and dry spices.
A 1/4 c at a time, stir or whisk in dry ingredients
carefully to avoid lumps. When done, it should have
the consistency of pancake batter.
When ready to cook, spoon the bacon fat into a 12"
cast iron skillet and place on the hot part of the
grill over the flames for 5 min. The pan is ready
when the fat is very hot and a pinch of cornmeal
coating sizzles when dropped in the pan. Move the
pan to the side of the grill where the heat is lower.
Dip each fillet in the batter to coat on all sides,
letting excess drop into the batter bowl. Carefully
drop each fillet into the hot fat. Cook for 2 min
on one side in the pan. Carefully flip each fillet
and return the pan to the hot part of the fire and
cook for 1 to 2 more min. Remove from fire and let
settle in pan on countertop or table. You can tell
when the fish is cooked if the end breaks off easily
with a fork or knife. Remove fillets from pan and
drain on a kitchen towel.
Serve on Fireworks slaw and top with tartar sauce.
Edward Abbey, interpreted by American Rivers Tour 2017
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