Tag Archives: lifestyle

Insult to Injury – Stealing Blogs for Re-sale to Students

I just received notification that the survival book posted here, Desert Emergency Survival Basics,  https://sofarfromheaven.com/survival-book-2/ is being offered up for sale to students to help them cheat on term papers, research papers and Professional Essays:

Professional essays and research papers – we offer only the best writers of performers, that provides a only guarantees great results term paper . Recommended Reading – buy term paper on-line unique content quality ensure! Bomba Writing Com”  wbomba@yandex.com

There’s an irony here.  The book was accepted for publication by the mass market publisher for books of that ilk in 2006, but we couldn’t arrive at an agreement on various contract details, mainly the advance and royalty issues assuring I’d get paid something for my work.

These folks have cut out the middle man, but only after it’s being offered free here, though I hadn’t considered the possibility students might use it to slither around course requirements.

No good deed goes unpunished.

Old Jules

Remembering/Repeating the Past

There’s no danger of our remembering the past in the ways required to keep us from repeating it. However, if we could, we might be well advised to look at areas:

1. Spanish Inquisition – to keep religious zealots in their proper place,

2, The French Revolution – to remind us about the down-side of revolutionary fervor,

3. The Soviet Union – to further remind us,

4. Santa Fe Trail – The eroded, abraded gorges and arroyos along the length of it to remind us it’s worth looking at the ground we’re standing on occasionally, rather than devoting all our attention to the horizon and a future we influence, but don’t comprehend.

5. The Chacoan/Mogollon, the Inca, the Aztec, the Mayan, to get our feet back on the ground when we indulge our fantasies that someone, once, ‘had it right’.

6. Japan in the 1930s, to remind ourselves the most rabidly cruel torturers can be forgiven, rebuilt, and sell us television sets and automobiles with impunity.

7. Hiroshima, to remind us surprises can happen to the most devoted, arrogant and unwary.

8. The ruins of castles, fortifications, National Cemetaries to remind us these crises we’re submerged in this moment will pass, as well, and be forgotten.

9. The DDT consequences of the 1960s to remind us science doesn’t have all the answers, that sometimes it’s better to put up with an insect than using the most expedient means of exterminating it.

10. Any man-made catastrophe, debacle in human history to remind us of the law of unforseen consequences.

To remind us we aren’t as smart as we tend to see ourselves.

To remind us, no country ever attacked another thinking it would lose.

No religious zealot ever killed or tortured anyone of another belief system believing his behavior would eventually be pointed to as proof of the falsehood of his beliefs.

No scientist ever released an invention or development believing it might one day destroy his kids, or their kids.

 

Mocking Bird Trap

A mocking bird’s been terrorizing the cats and chickens for some while now.  It even swoops down on me and takes me by surprise sometimes.  I noticed Niaid lying upside down out there and thought she was dead.  Headed over there just as the mocking bird dived at her. 

When the mocker was pulling out of the dive she came alive and grabbed at it, got a paw full of feathers, but it got away.  Niaid resumed position and I ran for the camera.

Old Jules

I Don’t Know What A Homophobic Is

But I wouldn’t want my brother to marry one.

In 1967 I was working 5.5 days a week doing hard physical labor, taking night courses at the University of Houston and having an urgent, compelling romance with my wife-to-be living in Port Lavaca, 150 miles away.  Every minute I could spare I cranked up that Metropolitan and headed west to spend a few hours with her.  Even for a young man exhaustion built and I had a lot of difficulty staying awake while driving.

Picking up hitch-hikers was one of the ways I stayed awake.  Just having someone to talk to on that endless road was a major asset.

1967 was a year of serious racial tensions and polarization.  During the years immediately previous a gradual mind-opening of tolerance was manifested in a brief cliche, “I’ve got nothing against blacks, but I wouldn’t want my sister to marry one.”   For a while a person heard that at least once a week.

One day as I was leaving Houston I stopped for two black guys hitching at an empty stretch of highway.  As they ran up to the car they saw the University of Houston sticker on back and without moving to get in they took on a grinning, belligerant-but-joshing attitude.  “You go to U of H?”

Yeah.  Where you guys headed?”

Still no move to get in.  “We go to Texas Southern [a black university in Houston].   You a queer?  The last guy picked us up went to U of H was a queer.  Dumped us out here ’cause we didn’t want none of him.”

 “I’m not a queer.  I’m going to Port Lavaca to see my girl friend.”

They relaxed and squeezed into the Metropolitan, joshing about the klutzy car, how tight it was, how they didn’t want to be seen riding with a white guy.  “Anyone sees us riding with you they’ll think you’re queer.  They’ll think we’re letting you queer us.”

  As we reached highway speed I grinned and looked over at them.  “I’ve got nothing against queers but I wouldn’t want my brother to marry one.”

Both of them gagged on that, double-took me, one another, trying to decide whether to be offended.  Finally one of them guffawed.  “Hey man, that’s a good one!”  Held his hand up to be slapped.

Turned out to be fairly nice guys headed to Corpus Christi for the weekend.  The drive to Port Lavaca went by fast, once we decided we were just three young guys not needing to fight, fear, or scrutinize every word for some slur or threat.

Sometimes it’s easy to forget how much times have changed.

Old Jules

Discarded Jewelry

Ruidoso Steak-House
Glanced at her reflection
In the plate-glass window
New squash-blossom turquoise
Sassy Stetson
Patted 50ish blonde curls
And wished
They’d eaten at the casino
Where this didn’t happen
Wrinkled pretty nose
Don’t give him anything
He’ll just get drunk!” Stage whispered
To her Houston lady friend
As though he wasn’t there
She was right of course
Except the old man Mescalero
Was already drunk
He turned away
Then turned back and mumbled
Sing the Song of Life each day
Or when the time arrives you won’t know how
To sing the Song of Death.”

Old Jules

 

Oak Wilt, Firewood and Sawmilling

Two years ago these were healthy trees.

About a year ago the trees in the vicinity of the cabin began dying.  I’d been fairly certain it would happen because there’s a grove immediately above about 100 yards that had all died off two or three years ago.  It appears to have started at the power line easement atop the hill and is making a path of dead trees moving east, or downhill.

Conventional wisdom is that it’s Red Oak Wilt, or Red Oak Disease.  There aren’t a lot of certainties about it, no preventive measures or cures anyone’s aware of.

Over the space of about a month they lost all their leaves and the bark began separating from the wood.  One of the problems with trying to get them down is the abundance of wasps making nests between the wood and the bark.  Hundreds of wasp nests and clouds of angry wasps.   The temptation is to wait for a cold day.

There was a certain amount of urgency about trying to take some of them down because after Oak Wilt kills a tree the first strong wind often brings it down.  Evidently the disease rots the root system long before anything shows above ground.  Several of the dozen-or-so trees dying immediately around the cabin and outbuildings actually have large limbs hanging over roofs.

But the nights are cooling enough to send the message it’s time to begin building a pile of firewood.  It won’t take much hauling this year.  Some of it I could almost cut and allow it to drop down the chimney pipe.

The larger trunks are going to be a major undertaking to split, so I’m thinking I might sawmill any of them with potentially good lumber left.  Sometimes Oak Wilt rots out the center too badly to leave anything worth using except to burn, but sometimes it leaves the heartwood almost untouched.

If there’s enough capable of being sawmilled it might provide enough oak for a project I have in mind cut relatively thin into planks usable for building a structure.  But in any case it ought to stay toasty inside the cabin this winter.

Old Jules

Affordable Art

Left to right:  Left, Democrats.  Middle center, banks, multi-nationals, defense contractors.  Bottom middle, US public.  Right, Republicans, Tea Party.

Occupy the Great American Success Story

I had a friend for a few years who lived everything the American Dream used to think it was.  He was working for a steel fabrication company in Silver City, New Mexico during the 1970s doing grunt labor, but thinking.  He saw around him some flaws in the ways the process sequences were performed, believed he could advance in the company by suggesting improvements.

Marsh, I’ll call him, went home nights and worked in his garage inventing a tubing bender far more efficient than the one used where he worked.  After it was complete, he took it to the company, expecting praise and rewards.  They shrugged, brushed him off and kept him busier at work.

So Marsh applied for a patent, began manufacturing his bender in his garage.  He couldn’t keep up with the orders, so he quit his job and expanded, meanwhile inventing other improvements on what he’d seen, manufacturing and selling those, also, becoming a surprisingly wealthy man within a decade or so.

His business flourished, his children matured, and one of his sons started another business, inventing, patenting, marketing.  His son became wealthier than Marsh, far more rapidly.  The son, carefully examining his conscience and human needs, his business thriving, spent a million dollars and several months in Afghanistan during the early 2000s building housing, providing shelter for those left homeless by the wars there.

But during those same years Marsh began seeing his patented designs showing up in Harbor Freight and other Chinese import outlets priced lower than he could manufacture them.  His patents were being violated and the US government was allowing those violations to be imported with impunity.  During a Republican administration.  His own inventions competing with him in stores all over the US.

Marsh was outraged and gradually the business he’d built was being destroyed by theft with the complicity of the US government.

Marsh listened to daytime talk radio a lot during those years.  He got daily doses of opinion telling him the source of his problems, and those problems were caused, he allowed himself to be persuaded, by liberals in politics.  When the Tea Party emerged, he attended meetings and demonstrations hoping to bring about political change, hoping somehow to save his business, his livelihood.  Furious, frantic, determined, certain now, this president, this administration was out to destroy him.

Last I heard, it was doing so.  His business was declining to such an extent he was being forced to lay off longtime employees vital to continued operation.

All the years I knew him Marsh was an honorable, honest, solid, hard-working man, dedicated to the betterment of himself, his employees, his country and humanity. 

But somehow he missed the point, maybe because he was standing too close to the problem.  Maybe because he was holding to a dream of how things are that no longer was.

Marsh, to this outsider looking in, was destroyed by a government comprised of the illusion  of two parties.  Both were bought-and-paid-for by people bigger than Marsh.  Neither of those parties cared what happened to Marsh, to his family and employees, to the dream, the innovation, the drive, the ideal he represented.

Marsh was betrayed by the people who own the talk-radio host he listens to, who own the Tea-Party, who own every facet of this country where the decisions are made as to whether US citizens work, prosper and are rewarded for their labors rather than being merely consumers of foreign products.

Marsh didn’t belong in the Tea Party.  He belonged in Occupy Wall Street.

Old Jules

The Price of Wealth

Hated Saturday nights;
Being third to
The bath-water
After Mom and Dad
But before the older kids
Felt poor;
Deprived.
He thought he was.
While down the road
His buddy, Joe Cordova
Didn’t have to feel so poor
Because the family
Didn’t have a tub.
Lucky Joe.

Old Jules

Cheated death one more time

Doomsday Comet

COMET CORPSE: “Doomsday Comet” Elenin was briefly famous for inaccurate predictions that it might hit Earth. Instead it disintegrated as it approached the sun last month. (Doomsday canceled.) Over the weekend, Italian astronomer Rolando Ligustri spotted the comet’s remains. It’s the elongated cloud in this Oct. 22nd photo of the star field where Elenin would have appeared if it were still intact.

Another team of astronomers–Ernesto Guido, Giovanni Sostero and Nick Howes–spotted the cloud on the same night. At first they were skeptical. “The cloud was extremely faint and diffuse,” says Guido. “We wondered if it might be scattered moonlight or some other transient artifact.” But when the team looked again on Oct. 23, the cloud was still there. A two-night blink animation shows that the cloud is moving just as the original comet would have. Note: Some readers have noticed a fast-moving streak to the to the lower right of the debris cloud. That is an unrelated asteroid, 2000 OJ8 (magnitude 14), which happened to be in the field of view at the same time as the cloud of Elenin.

More information about this discovery and continued tracking of the “comet corpse” may be found at the Remanzacco Observatory Astronomy Blog.

———————————–

Meanwhile, here’s what Old Sol has to say about it:

There are no large coronal holes on the Earthside of the sun. Credit: SDO/AIA.

He’s looking fairly spiffy, though, with all those spots.  Even without any coronal holes.  He’d be the first to point out, you can’t have everything all at once.  You’ve got to spread things out some.

There’s unanimity among the celestial bodies, whatever Gods are, the Coincidence Coordinators and other interested parties that there’s only one shot at destroying the earth.  Ramming comets, asteroids into it, hitting it with phantom planets and galaxies, having some unexpected thing explode inside it, those options just don’t have enough drama and class to hold up under close scrutiny.  They’re holding out for something better.

Mark it on your calendar if you can figure out what it  is.

Old Jules