I’m not going to insult your intelligence by claiming that everything I read for pleasure is theologically right. But I do grapple with the notion that all “entertainment” is a form of self-education, and I do think we have to be careful with stuff like this:
https://leeduigon.com/2015/07/08/when-is-a-good-book-not-so-good/
Suggested by Susan: Come Behold the Wondrous Mystery, by Matt Boswell. I’m sure this song will find its way into more than a few hymnals, if it hasn’t already. Listen. Feel. Give thanks.
There’s a first time for everything, for cats as well as people. See the kittens in this video take on all sorts of challenges. I wish I could remember what I thought and felt as a baby, doing all sorts of things for the very first time. I wonder if cats can remember their early kittenhood.
Last year a decorated U.S. Air Force colonel was suspended and blocked from promotion because he wouldn’t sign a “certificate of appreciation” for some guy’s pseudo-marriage to another guy (https://leeduigon.com/2017/10/18/air-force-colonel-grounded-for-not-affirming-same-sex-marriage/). Again, it’s liberals forcing you to say something that you don’t believe in. Something that violates your conscience and plays the devil with your self-respect.
But upon appeal to the USAF Review Boards Agency, the colonel has been reinstated. Ruled the agency, “Col. Bohannon had the right to exercise his sincerely held religious beliefs and did not unlawfully discriminate when he declined to sign the certificate of appreciation for the same-sex spouse of an Airman in his command” (https://mail.aol.com/webmail-std/en-us/suite).
Anyone who thinks this would have happened with Hillary Clinton in the White House is whistlin’ Dixie out his nose.
Here’s a puzzle that was featured in a Columbo episode we watched last night. Columbo cracked it. Can you? Here it is.
You have three bags full of gold pieces. Two of the bags contain genuine gold pieces weighing one pound each. One contains counterfeit pieces weighing one pound and one ounce each. The only way you can tell them apart is by weighing them.
But all you have is a penny scale and a single penny, so you only get one weighing, no more. Utilizing only your penny and this scale, can you figure out which of the bags contains the counterfeit pieces?
Now the answer to this puzzle is quite simple. “Why didn’t I think of it!” you’ll say, once you know the answer.
Some of you may already know this problem. If you do, don’t spill the beans.
I will reveal the answer after allowing some time for my readers to offer their answers.
And no, I didn’t get it, either! But you and I don’t have the screenwriters on our side.
(Thanks, I think, to “Unknowable” for the news tip)
It’s not that leftids are getting more asinine. They’ve just gotten bolder about letting us see them for who they really are.
Those lucky college students at the University of Colorado, Colorado Springs, will be getting academic credit for attending, online, the 19th annual White Privilege Conference at Grand Rapids, Michigan. Not-so-lucky students will be required to attend in person (https://mail.aol.com/webmail-std/en-us/suite).
But wow, dig this deal! You can apply these credits toward getting your “Graduate Certificate in Diversity, Social Justice, and Inclusion”! What, pray tell, are you supposed to do with that, once you’ve got it?
Taught primarily by world-class hypocrite white liberals, the conference will feature over 100 workshops with cool titles like “Breaking the Chains of Capitalism and White Supremacy,” “The Whiteness of Law,” and “How Whiteness Kills.” They’re not a bit shy anymore about admitting that they’re commies. They don’t like the laws, either. Laws are so much nicer when they’re made by a people’s soviet consisting of women of color. Or something like that.
Can you believe this preposterous event has already been held 18 times? And still white parents knock themselves out, working to pay the exorbitant cost of sending their offspring to these looniversities to get not-quite-degrees in Diversity, Social Justice, and Inclusion.
What’s wrong with you people???
Everything Science says is true.
Today’s Science says yesterday’s Science was poppycock.
Tomorrow’s Science will say today’s Science was poppycock.
Go figure.
https://leeduigon.com/2014/10/15/are-you-a-science-fundamentalist/
I should have had this for Good Friday or Easter Sunday, but better late than never. This is another one my mother used to sing. Sometimes it would make me cry, when I was a little boy. This is Were You There When They Crucified My Lord?, sung by Johnny Cash… decades ago on TV.
They’ll jump on anything that doesn’t run away–sleeping dogs, horses, bulls, and even human beings. And trampolines!
They’re baby goats, and they have the gift of joy.
I like to play games on Pogo. I like to chat with my Pogo friends while we’re playing. It’s relaxing. It’s nice.
My wife plays a lot of Pogo, and she likes to win “badges.” A badge denotes that you’ve achieved something or other in the course of playing a game. Players like to collect badges. I’m not into that, but that’s me.
As I play, from time to time a certain advertisement appears in the chat box, offering you the power to “complete and win hard badges quickly”… by signing up for robots, “Badge Bots,” to play the game for you.
It reminds me of someone I knew long ago, who was too lazy to go to the unemployment office to collect his check. We called him “Clams”–although the average clam was a lot more dynamic than he was.
Sheesh! Are we grown too flaming lazy even to play our games? Where’s the fun in having some robot play your games for you? Are we too dull, too inert, even to relax? And what kind of gavone brags about all the badges he “won” by letting Badge Bots win them? Where’s the achievement? How many of us, really, are that dishonest with ourselves?
Other robots turn our lights on or off–you have to shell out for “smart” lights that will obey the robot’s order–because we’re too torpid to flick a switch.
I heard somewhere that the civilized world has an epidemic of obesity. I wonder why. Well, at least we still have the energy and the drive to stuff our faces non-stop. Is that the one thing we don’t want robots to do for us?
I’m reminded of a story Ray Bradbury told in The Martian Chronicles, a poignant, somewhat poetic piece in which all the human colonists on Mars are dead and gone but their robots mindlessly keep performing their now pointless tasks of housekeeping the now uninhabited houses.
Let’s not go there, okay?