You probably have never heard of Nick Shabazz. We seldom hear of people who make sense. Our attention is drawn instead to noisy malevolent clowns.
Thanks, Google! You have struck a blow for privacy! Okay, that overstates things slightly, but only slightly. And while the Google Pixel Tablet is anything but private as shipped, the enormous, generally evil company (who knows that you are looking at this article unless you did something to prevent tracking, which you probably didn’t) left the tablet open so people concerned with privacy and security can fix it.
The conversation with my friend Angelo was satisfying and thought-provoking, as they always are. We had been talking about how men, when they grow up (chronologically) and have money, are wont to buy the things they desired but didn’t get when they were little boys.
We’re not-so-slowly being overrun by invasive animal and plant species, and it’s costing money. Costing me money in particular. And like so many terrible things for which no one can be held personally accountable, in many cases the government is to blame.
The idea hit me in early 1977, during of all things a pistol match. And the ratio that first came to mind that weekend morning still seems about right. It is a rule — okay, a “guideline” as we now like to say — that explains and to a limited extent influences much of our daily lives. That morning I named it the 20 percent rule. In the — Lord help me — nearly 50 years since that day it has held up pretty well.
Next Tuesday is Halloween, though holidays are now moved all over the place. No doubt plans are underway to desecrate Christmas, New Year, and Thanksgiving, but moving Halloween all over the place is especially inconvenient, in that it involves strangers coming to our homes, so we must be there, and if it’s spread out over many days . . . well, you can see. Or will.
Have you ever re-watched a sad movie, hoping that this time the outcome will be different? Welcome to the world today. Only it’s not a movie.
Babies. They beheaded babies. They are proud of it. It is particularly troubling when acts are so horrific that people of good will are sad that they are not there to personally kill the offenders. But that was my instant, immutable response to a video I saw on Saturday.
The bill is coming due, and it will get paid one way or another.
My grief-stricken niece, a nurse, this week had to explain to her 7-year-old son that his daddy would not be coming home from the hospital. That heartbreaking duty followed a stressful month.