Please bear with my hymn selection–Nathan (auto-harp) and Lyle (guitar) from Denton County, Texas, performing a classic 19th-century hymn, Revive Us Again. I will have to work two or three times as hard as usual this week, just to catch up, and I need reviving.
Tomorrow morning I’ll be late because I have to take Robbie’s sister, Peep, to the vet… for I don’t know what. I pray it turns out to be nothing. Peep is Patty’s little shadow who follows her everywhere she goes.
Well, our IT guy has come and gone, he wrestled with the problem and couldn’t find the cause, much less the solution, and the upshot of it is that the first four chapters in the set are still here, but the last two–the longest ones, of course–are gone. I will have to do them all over again from scratch.
Because of the way I work, those chapters cannot be exactly duplicated. I was only just saying the other day that some of the material in those chapters was as good as anything I’ve ever done. For those who wonder about it, we do have backup, etc., but somehow this stuff never got backed up. The chapters as written are lost somewhere in the bowels of the computer. And Excalibur lies at the bottom of a lake or pond somewhere in England. Good luck trying to find it.
So I’ll write them all over again and ask the Lord to help me make them better than they were.
There’s a guy on our street who self-identifies as a hamster. I think he belongs in Oy, Rodney.
Anyway, real hamsters are a lot cuter than that guy… And my IT guy has just arrived, so I must sign off for now. Enjoy the hamsters.
Well, as far as my book goes, I’m dead in the water until the IT guy can come and hopefully rescue my chapters.
Meanwhile, the nooze media in Australia show they’re as far out on the Left as our own noozies in America.
Next month they’re going to vote in Australia on whether to impose “gay marriage” on themselves–and guess which side the impartial journalists are on, big-time. The Yes Vote looked like it had clear sailing, but got carried away with the usual leftid name-calling, threats, and bullying, and put a lot of people off, enabling the No Vote to make up lost ground.
An ad produced by three “mums” opposed to the whole enterprise quite reasonably argued, “Our kids are not your social experiment”–referring, of course, to the radically pro-homosexual “sex education” that will be the rule in every school, once same-sex pseudomarriage comes in. This has happened here, in Britain, in Canada, and in several other countries.
But the noozies report it as “a bizarre new video” by the No Mums “stating their case against marriage equality” (http://www.news.com.au/lifestyle/gay-marriage/our-kids-are-not-your-social-experiment-the-no-vote-mums-are-back/news-story/01d756c68b08e149b27110056bdcd69c)–loaded language, and how! Well, this is what happens when leftids get to define the terms of the discussion. “Marriage equality”–that label stinks. And of course ordinary family life would seem “bizarre” to any leftid noozies, who can only think in terms of abortion, homosexuality, and “gender reassignment.” For them, that’s the normal stuff. To them, regular people are “bizarre.”
No Western country yet has been able to defeat the cultural Marxist “gay rights” Trojan horse. They’ve all permitted it to be wheeled through the gates.
Join Poland in prayer, everyone.
We need it.
So I’m typing my current chapter set, and I’m almost done, 27 pages, over 11,000 words–and suddenly the whole blamed thing disappears! Back to “Page 1 of 1, 0 words.”
Where is my work????? How can I get it back? I was just typing away and there it went, gone, vanished, off to see the fairies. When I search for the document, all I get is this blank page.
Anybody out there who can help? Like, before my head explodes! Help!!!!
A reader tipped me off today that “male masculinity is actually a huge issue.” I guess female masculinity is okay, though.
Male masculinity is a big promble because it’s tied to “masculine ideologies,” whatever they are. “Scholars” say so. And interllecturals at collidge. It’s such a terrible problem that Princeton University, this summer, was looking to hire a certified clinician as a “men’s engagement manager” because apparently male or masculine behavior is a medical or psychological affliction.
Why worry? Aren’t our education establishment, Hollywood, activists of every description, and the nooze media doing absolutely everything they can to weed out every kind of masculinity? If any can still be found, it won’t be for want of trying on their part.
Except, of course, that portion of really aggressive macho man crap that will always be reserved for king-sized Democrat donors, Hollywood big shots who haven’t been publicly exposed, and musclebound idiot football players who act like caricatures of lesbians but are useful when it comes to keeping the peasants entertained: someone has to provide the bread and circuses. Those few will still be allowed the luxury of behaving like male impersonators. All the rest of us XY-chromosome types will be expected to–I don’t know: act like girls?
I wonder how many men had to die on the beach on D-Day for the Real Smart People of today to prattle about the dangers of male masculinity?
And I wonder if any of the Western nations, as Western nations are today, could have survived more than a few days of World War II.
God created male and female.
We create pure drivel.
Source: Help Wanted: Blathering Numbskull
Drain the swamp!
Faith of Our Fathers–I can hardly believe we used to sing this in assembly at high school, until the Supreme Court clued us in that “religion,” except for secular humanism, is not allowed in public places. Later they decided abortion was all right. Then some other things I will not mention.
Was it a different world? What happened to it while I slept?
Anyway, here’s the hymn, sung by the kids at Fountainview Academy.
(Did I spell that word right? A miracle!)
Yo, cats, listen up! I’m hear to tell you that if you ever slept that soundly in the wild, you’d be halfway eaten before you could open one eye. So let’s hear it for us humans, who provide you with this lovely environment that lets you explore every nook and cranny of the realm of Morpheus! (I’ve always wanted to use that expression, but somehow the chance never came up.)
My brother-in-law has had to be hospitalized for his dementia, and who knows how it’ll turn out? Please pray for him.
Meanwhile, permit me this indulgence. All my life I’ve wanted to throw a knuckleball, and have yet to accomplish it. Watch the video and see how the ball wobbles and wanders on its way to the catcher, who almost drops it. No wonder it’s so hard to hit.
The shortstop on our softball team, Sandy, had a terrific knuckleball. You really couldn’t tell where it was going to go. It’s hard to describe what I saw while waiting to catch it. A softball isn’t supposed to flutter like a moth! As a first baseman, I used to dread the possibility that someday Sandy would give in to temptation and throw me one of these fluttering moths during a game; but he never did.
It’s raining now, so I can’t go outside and try again with some black walnuts. By the time I was fifty I’d finally mastered the curveball, then the screwball; but the knuckleball continues to elude me. I’ll keep trying, though. It’s goofy things like this that keep you young.