Sherrie Lee wrote:
> On Mar 23, 5:46 am, "Dennis M. Hammes"
arvig.net> wrote:
> >>Sherrie Lee wrote:
>>
>
>>>No one has claimed ownership of air unless there is a service involved
>>>and other components like compressing it into containers (sounds sexy,
>>
>>Souba, duba, DO-O-O-O-O!
>> (Ruh-row...)
>
>
> Did I just let the cat go?
No, I spotted a typo. Apparently I could see less well than I was
dreaming I could (there are others). S.b.:
"Scuba," duba, etc. for your compressed containers.
>
> [...]
>
>
>>>anything that can "run out" has value, it would seem. It's my simple
>>>understanding. And so, one country (company) has quite a bit of
>>>another thing: something that is limited. It's limited raw material
>>>could be, say, cotton (slaves once pulled cotton). A country (company)
>>
>>Slaves spent the winter and spring "picking cotton." Not pulling it
>>from the stalks, that takes less than a week and had better be done
>>in that time.
>> Thereafter, they sat on the porch and "picked" the /seeds/ out of
>>the cotton.
>> This function was rendered obsolete by a machine the size of a
>>shoe box.
>> Of a sudden, you had a harvesting machine that was good for a
>>week, but you had to feed it and whip it all year.
>> On the price of /raw/, rather than "picked," cotton.
>> Hence, the Civil Crusade, ah, War.
>
>
> Thanks for the correction, and reminding me about the machine.
> (aside: after I made a presentation to my COO on how a computer
> could replace at least half of what I do, he gave the go for me to
> show tech guy my less thans and equal tos ... I believe it's PERL
> that we're talking about, and it's taking him forever. He agrees it
> can be done. I don't know why I want to make my job obsolete
> and risk being laid off, but I see it coming ... a little sooner than
> they did.
> They just have to drink the water! or I have to learn PERL)
Don't worry about it. If they had wanted a robot, they'd have got
one from Personn... ah, Human Resources.
A robot will do what the boss (whose name may be Pearl) tells it
to do.
A human will do what the /job/ tells it to do.
This function cannot be preprogrammed.
(Check: If a job could be preprogrammed, no apprentice, let alone
a master, would ever make a misteak.)
>
>>>will use labor to pull cotton, and then that cotton is sold to the
>>>highest bidder, who then creates something people want, like clothing.
>>>The winner of the bid can create something that costs no more than
>>>what people can/will pay and what the bidder decides his labor is
>>>worth (just like the auctioneer).
>>
>>But when John Bull loses his Cotton Colonies, he has to colonise Egypt.
>
>
> Oh dear. Do you think it's humanity or a country who should be
> responsible for humane treatment of laborers? There's a whole other
> argument!
The Embattled Farmers proved that /the laborers/ are responsible for
the humane treatment of laborers.
The boss only lays what the traffic will bear.
>
>>>The bidder is usually seen as the investor. He takes the higher risk,
>>>and that risk has value in addition to the value of the investment,
>>
>>It's called "paying for your own research," and anybody who's
>>actually done it can tell you it pays off a time in a hundred.
>>Fortunately, most of the ninety-and-nine failures will demonstrate
>>their failing in hours or weeks.
>> It the three So-Promising Suckers that break ya.
>>
>>
>>>thereby justifies "profit". This is where (for me, anyway) economics
>>>gets super complicated. That cotton has to be changed into something
>>>that can be sold back to the people so the investor not only gets his
>>>money back but more because if he simply breaks even, why bother?
>>
>>If all he does is break even, he will /not/ get laid.
>> (I told y'alls ages ago, It's All About Tits.)
>> Women's thumbs and forefingers comprise a caliper, and the only
>>thing it's more sensitive to than the fatness of a dick is the
>>fatness of a wallet.
>> TrVst me.
>
>
> Is that why rich ugly men have young beautiful women accompanying
> them?
> Isn't that the first cynical thought people have when they see such a
> scene?
>
> It's embarrassing.
Education often is. But The Donald has had a series of women most
men would give a nut for, and he has neither personality nor hair.
And anybody who thinks the Beatles /ever/ looked good needs his
eyes replaced.
And then there's Hoo the Hef and the former 97-year-old /Mr./ Anna
Nicole.
In addition to being a feebleminded hemophiliac, Charles III was
pulled out the bottom of the ugly pile, but there are no ugly broads
at the Captain's Table, IYKWIM.
(Eh? But money also makes /women/ like toedully ossum.)
You /know/ the Democrats are out of resources when they choose a
Speaker of the House for being /cute/. (She ain't rich, she ain't
family powerful, and even I know a dozen better at bitching. In
three months, they've done /nothing/ but hold a Press-attended Tea
Party to Point at what the Repos and White House went ahead and did
like they seD they were gunna do anyway.)
What, exactly, /is/ a "non-binding Resolution"? I think I last
heard of those in second grade. It's a game, sometimes called "Shut
Up And Deal," played by the losers of whatever was up last.
>
> [...]
>
>
>>>What is the difference between the two robes? The people ask. And so,
>>>two merchants explain. Each has 10 robes. There are 10 people. That's
>>>a good situation for the people, right? Better for the merchants to
>>>have 5 or less robes each and more people, like, say 20 people who
>>
>>Karl Marx hates you already. In the Perfect Society, there are
>>always only as many robes as there are people, a fact seen to by the
>>Commissariat Of Robeskis.
>
>
> I have his book, and I don't know much, if anything, about him.
> I venture to say he was misunderstood. He's around the same
> age as Darwin.
>
> If a plague kills all the people, where does the plague go?
>
To listen to the Piper.
Until he's called to the next town...
>
>> In a single lifetime, we saw how that worked out in the
>>smaller-than-Russia Petri dish called "Cuba."
>> "Who will help me weave the robe?" asked the Little Red, Hen.
>> "What's in it for me?" asked the Catro -- I'm already Too Darned
>>Hot, It's Too Darned Hot.
>>
>>
>>>need/want robes. One of the merchants promises that his robes will
>>>surely involve a trip to the Bahamas the moment one dons the garment.
>>
>>For repairs?
>> (You think a Licensed American Citizen will sew /his own/ buttons
>>back on?)
>
>
> Yes. Me. In fact, because I'm stubborn, I'll sew the buttons back on
> my comforter today. Thank you, my muse!
>
I've got this odd little tack-on porch, about 6x6, that changes
location every spring depending on how much water got under the slab
and froze. I turned the north 3x6 into ceiling jars, wall tools,
workbench, wheelout shelves under.
In the front of the top shelf (where I can find it in the dark) is
a sewing box. (It is distinguished from the identical-but-for-color
box of Dremel bits by shaking.)
>
>>>Well! There you are then. Who would want a simple cover-up when the
>>>other robe will take you to the Bahamas! So the people scramble for
>>
>>Pf. You forget the Robes that will take you Directly To Jesus.
>> All /they/ cost you is a bit of hopsack and the rest of your life.
>
>
> No I didn't. Why do you think I used the word "robe" and not "shirt"?
>
Heh. What makes you think I didn't?
>
>>>his robes (he jacks the price even more ... to cover the cost of his
>>>skipping town). No need to say what the people want to do to the
>>>merchant for selling bogus flying carpets, if you will.
>>
>>Or the King's Cameleopard.
>> What was most interesting about that scenario is how the people
>>who were duped the first night sold their own neighbors on going the
>>second night.
>> (Roger Rab... ah, Ebert /can't/ do it himself.)
>
>
> Ok, that sounds like Time Share. And thanks again! Cameleopard, never
> heard of it. Found Edgar Allen Poe so I could keep up with you,
> Dennis. If your knowledge were money, I like you because you have a
> lot of it. And you read me b/c why? Target practice? You can't even
> see my tits!
>
Bet. (Further deponent sayeth not on froup.)
"Cameleopard" is that old Roman Classifier's (NAMES!!, dammit),
WhatZis' Bestiary, name for a giraffe, complete with
slightly-fanciful illo. But "The King's Cameleopard" is a
scenario/chapter in /Huckleberry Finn/ having The Duke selling
tickets to see The Dolphin cavorting in blue paint and skipping town
with the gate ahead of the tar and feathers on the /third/ night.
Two kinds of target practice, both social.
One, the devil "shoots back" at the one doing the throwing.
So much of that going on that one tends to forget that there are
/still/ such things as "parlor pistols" (for target practice in
living rooms), and the much-more-fun version where the devil shoots
back at what's thrown: cf. the hand trap, or Annie Oakley's
"plinking" 25,000 tossed 3" pine blocks with a (actually four, and
three loaders) Remington -- her sponsor -- pump .22. Pederson (who
beat her record twice) coined the term, saying "Boy, you sure plinked
that one!"
The point, Back In The Day, was the reliability of Remington's .22
rimfire ammo (a design still fundamentally plagued by mfg faults and
deteriorations). The rifles never jammed and the ammo never misfired.
She, by contrast, missed five.
Today, we have "basketball," in which you're called a "star
player" if you miss only 65%% of your free throws.
N.B.: The song, "Anything You Can Do" in /Annie, Get Your Gun/, is
founded on that Pederson-Oakley shootoff. Pederson, who worked for
Remington, had done 15,000; Oakley did the 25,000.
After her tragic retirement, Remington made him do another, in
which he had a string of 17,000 but with nine misses in the 35,000.
So she still holds one record, he the other.
>
>>>As the merchant is running from the mob, he's shouting back, I said
>>>"involve not take!"
>>
>>>The mob does not understand semantics.
>>
>>Not to bring up chuckles, Dockery, Tommy, David, Vera, harvey, etc.,
>>since you didn't want me to, that once, but the mob do not understand
>>grade-school English or sixth-grade arithmetic.
>> (I mention them because the examples are right in our faces every
>>night. See? I /seD/ they were good for something...)
>> They have to halt their math before the /fourth/ grade, because it
>>is in the fourth grade that they might learn that the sum of zeros is
>>zero.
>
>
> fudge. how could I be so stupid. I just figured out why that Advila
> was so hostile.
> Harvey's her boyfriend! DOH!
You missed (?) the early fondling sessions. Called on it, they quit
mostly. (Here, anyway...)
>
>>>They certainly understand how
>>>to wring the neck of a shrewd operator with his very own product. But
>>
>>Actually, they don't. It's why they "vote" to "elevate" "perfectly
>>safe" "servants" "over the rest" to wring the necks /for/ them.
>> Which is why we now have /thirty-five/ "school shootings" since
>>1992, and O.J., and billion-dollar cocaine traffic, and neighborhood
>>meth labs, and "police" who bully store clerks to keep the Children
>>Safe From Tobacco, and bully your daughter's nail clippers to keep
>>the streets Safe From Anything That May Be Construed As A Weapon.
>>
>>You know your bit about the electronic deposit (fka "printing press")?
>> Only he who can "pay" for them can hire "police."
>> Unfortunately, Attila the Hun noted that while good soldiers could
>>always get you gold, gold could not always get you good soldiers.
>> The only thing funny money will get you is those who are stupid
>>enough to work for it, and the only thing /they/ can get you is more
>>funny money, which you could already print for yourself.
>> Note that neither the funny money nor the police can get you oil
>>("black" gold, Texas Tea).
>> Why the "police" are taliking about "reinstating the draft."
>> They'll conscript the ones they /don't/ like.
>> (They don't like 'em because they're Not Safe To Have Around A
>>Priest's Criminal Mouth, let alone around a Colored Shirt with a Holy
>>Number on it.)
>
>
> Have you ever seen UK's "Yes, Prime Minister"? I just started watching
> it.
> Silly but I think true about politics. Anywhere.
"Yes, Minister," and actually "about" the abuses of the Career Civil
Service, but yes.
>
> [...]
>
>
>>>I think I just digressed.
>>
>>Pray, continue.
>
>
> you stopped short of "... to demonstrate your ignorance". Of course, I
> will!
No, "Pray, continue [to digress]."
As you say, I need the target practice, and I like what you throw
up for me to shoot at.
>
> [...]
>
>>
>>>(I know I'm stupid/naive about economics ... what's scarier is the
>>>likelihood of someone more stupid ... or smarter)
>>
>>Anybody who's smarter about economics than your essay /knows/ that
>>the only person economics, like any other weapon, can screw is himself.
>> Whereas the stupid will burn you at the stake for burning
>>tabacincense to the Carbon Dioxide Monster.
>> Makes 'em feel Superior.
>> (What did you /think/ this fuken Tobacco Jihad is All About?)
>> Not to mention that you're burning /Their/ Rightful Money, Which
>>God SeD Shall Be For McHappy Toys And McHoly Food.
>> ("McHoly Food" is, as you noted, that which has been Authorised by
>>the God With The Glass Eye.)
>>
>>So the Old Trick, 99, is to see to it that they /can't/.
>> And since the "police" are /always/ the Labelled Property of the
>>Priests, To Serve And Protect the priests, that means no more than
>>that you see to your own sword.
>> That's that thing hanging from your neck. The Sword Bone.
>> (And if it ain't Connected to de Head Bone, it ain't de Sword Bone.)
>
>
> That's why man hasta make the machine. And everyone is so worried
> about giving it enough rope to hang itself. Can we plan one step ahead
> with enough time to act? I'm not ready for the big time players.
>
> I feel like surrendering to a field of flowers full of itchy bugs, but
> I'll sew on buttons, instead.
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They drop between the cushions (why?)
Which are the bliss of solitude;
So then my heart with rigor fills,
And dances with the button quills.
>
> xxoo
>
Oya.
