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A little light reading

The above excerpt is from the official report of an American soldier who died by accident in Korea, unclear what year. A sad story picked out of a mountain of Wikileaks documents.

Yes, Wikileaks has opened its archive. Interesting timing, with Assange hoping for a pardon.

So far, most of the documents I’ve looked at are boring, marked unclassified and/or redacted to uselessness. Hillary’s emails are mostly whiteout (and I think these are ones that had already been released anyway).

The most salacious tidbit is a blurry photo purporting to be Steve Jobs’ positive HIV test.

If you want to paddle around for yourself, some helpful observations. The dump is HUGE and topically all over the place, from military reports to the business operations of a transcendental meditation group. If you see a .pdf or .txt file extension, that’s probably small and manageable in your browser. If you see a .zip file, that’s going to unfold into MANY files, or a whole directory structure of .html files (which implies they were scraped off of web sites). A .7z file is a 7zip file, a kind of compressed file that Windows won’t handle natively, but there’s a good open source tool for opening them.

If you find anything good, I’d like to hear about it.

December 17, 2020 — 5:42 pm
Comments: 3

I think I’m a little envious

Looks like a major one is headed to Rhode Island tonight. Much snow and heavy wind.

I had mixed feelings about snowstorms when I was there. I love snow and wild weather, but I became increasingly nervous driving in snow and the policy at my job was not to call off work. I had a long commute during which several scary near misses.

It didn’t help that I basically drove a rear-wheel-drive tennis shoe.

It seldom snows here, which is a pity – the village is beautiful under snow. I don’t think we got any at all last Winter. Just endless rain, rain, rain.

Any of you in the path of this beast?

p.s. happy anniversary of the Boston Tea Party. Uncle B says we still can’t make a decent brew. Must be the salt water.

December 16, 2020 — 7:49 pm
Comments: 14

Pulling a rabbit out of my

I just did the monthly newsletter for my job. That’s ten newsletters I’ve written entirely in the absence of news. I’m so tired of pulling PR out of my ass, honestly.

We’re shut. We don’t go anywhere or do anything. Everything is cancelled. What is there to talk about?

I tried to find out who the bloke in the picture is. Tineye turned up other copies of the pic, but a glance at the list didn’t indicate anyone knew who he was.

But it did turn up this interesting longread about the amateur magic craze that swept through young men in the early Twentieth C.

December 15, 2020 — 8:47 pm
Comments: 8

Cognitive reserve. Yeah, running a little low on that.

Dammit, I knew alcohol would be on the list! From a study in the Lancet (link goes to a pdf file, so don’t click unless you really want to read it). I think the study appeared in New Scientist, as well, but that’s behind a paywall.

I’m probably out of luck on the education thing, too.

By the way, this season of American Politics is wild. I’m glued to the edge of my seat. Better than that shit on Netflix (link goes to a Spectator article on Netflix, apparently the wokiest of the woke companies).

December 14, 2020 — 8:49 pm
Comments: 18

Dead Pool Round 137: Positively the last of 2020. I hope.

I accidentally hit ‘publish’ on this Dead Pool two hours ago. Took me a minute to stuff it back in the box. I hope I didn’t disappoint anyone!

ExpressoBold takes it with Chuck Yeager. One of these days, I have to get around to reading The Right Stuff.

Drop me a line, ExpressoBold. I’m walking through the old Dead Pools one by one, making a list, trying to figure out who I’ve shorted, and I think I owe you at least one more.

Is errrbody ready? Then less begin.

0. Rule Zero (AKA Steve’s Rule): your pick has to be living when picked. Also, nobody whose execution date is circled on the calendar. Also, please don’t kill anybody. Plus (Pupster’s Rule) no picking someone who’s only famous for being the oldest person alive.

1. Pick a celebrity. Any celebrity — though I reserve the right to nix picks I never heard of (I don’t generally follow the Dead Pool threads carefully, so if you’re unsure of your pick, call it to my attention).

2. We start from scratch every time. No matter who you had last time, or who you may have called between rounds, you have to turn up on this very thread and stake your claim.

3. Poaching and other dirty tricks positively encouraged.

4. Your first choice sticks. Don’t just blurt something out, m’kay? Also, make sure you have a correct spelling of your choice somewhere in your comment. These threads get longish and I use search to figure out if we have a winner.

5. It’s up to you to search the thread and make sure your choice is unique. I’m waayyyy too lazy to catch the dupes. Popular picks go fast.

6. The pool stays open until somebody on the list dies. Feel free to jump in any time. Noobs, strangers, drive-bys and one-comment-wonders — all are welcome.

7. If you want your fabulous prize, you have to entrust me with a mailing address. If you’ve won before, send me your address again. I don’t keep good records.

8. The new DeadPool will begin 6pm WBT (Weasel’s Blog Time) the Friday after the last round is concluded.

The winner, if the winner chooses to entrust me with a mailing address, will receive an Official Certificate of Dick Winning and a small original drawing on paper suffused with elephant shit particles. Because I’m fresh out of fairy shit particles.

December 11, 2020 — 6:00 pm
Comments: 86

I’ve seen the Dreamies and the damage done

This kitty came to us as a stray, you may recall. A tiny kitten walked into our livingroom one hot August night, squeaked and ran out again. I put out a squirrel trap baited with catfood, and here we are.

He was severely underweight. The lady at the shelter estimated that he was a month older than he looked because he’d been undernourished. About four months old.

He grew up fast when we stuffed him full of good supermarket kitty glop, but he remained skinny.

Until there were Dreamies.

Oh, did kitty love his Dreamies. In fact, it became an obsession. In fact, it began to make him a miserable boy.

Eventually, he refused any other food. You’d put stuff in his bowl and he’d hardly glance at it. He would stubbornly refuse to eat anything but Dreamies.

And he got fat.

Fat enough that it I had to fix it. He’d never had dried food before, so I took his big tin of Dreamies and added a handful of Iams. And every few days another. After a couple weeks, there weren’t any Dreamies in the mix at all.

He’s still fat, but he’s not gaining and the vet didn’t seem worried. Sometimes, though, he gets a sad, faraway look in his eye and I know he knows a wonderful light has gone out of his life.

So what do they put in them? Aside from something fatty, I think I know. If you have cats and Dreamies, give them a sniff and see what you think. *I* say they smell like parmesan.

In fact, I was so certain of it, when our elderly cat went off her feed, I bought some parm and sprinkled it over her food. It usually worked.

Right. Remember. Dead Pool Tomorrow. Be here, or be somewhere else!

December 10, 2020 — 7:47 pm
Comments: 8

When all else fails…

…go with a cat picture.

I feel like such a spectator at the moment. I can’t tell you how many times I half-compose a tweet and then X out of it, because I wasn’t about to say anything meaningful or insightful. I’m communicating entirely in likes.

And yes, he’s adorable. But when he wakes up, he tries to chew great lumps out of the basket. My laundry basket. Little bastard.

December 9, 2020 — 9:17 pm
Comments: 12

Errrrr…

This is the photo the Daily Mail used to illustrate the terrible floods happening in Venice again. Stay classy, urinalists.

Visit the link. That’s the reddest of scarlet dresses.

And yes, ExpressoBold has won the Dead Pool with Chuck Yeager. The more tributes I read, the more he sounds like the most badassical of men.

You know what that means, Sweaseleers. New Dead Pool Friday, 6 WBT.

December 8, 2020 — 8:37 pm
Comments: 10

She did it again

Only this time, she was so high in the tree I couldn’t get her down. I had to leave her up there. It was the coldest night of the Winter so far, so I kept tiptoeing out to check on her. Then I got up at first light to check on her again.

When I got home from work in the afternoon, she was STILL up there. So I got on a ladder, used the extended loppers to clear a path, poked her in the chest with a garden hoe until she climbed aboard, and gave her a gentle elevator ride to the ground.

I feel like I’ve been beaten up. All that exertion with my arms over my head, you see.

Well, she’ll get her comeuppance. We’re entering a complete poultry lockdown in a week. Bird flu. Yes, it includes tiny backyard flocks.

It’s to minimize contact between livestock and wild birds, who spread it across nations. We’ve done a full lockdown once before while I’ve kept chickens.

It was miserable. They bitched all day long.

December 7, 2020 — 6:31 pm
Comments: 12

Who is the most difficult chicken in the land?

Spoon.

It’s always Spoon.

She’s been on the roof of the garage and the roof of the house. She got so far up a climbing rose, I had to trim it to a stump to get to her. She spent the night in a hedge once. When she vanished this afternoon, I thought there was a good chance she was up a tree somewhere.

And so she was. On the other side of the hedge, in the field next door, jussssst high enough I couldn’t cut her down with the loppers. In the end, at the absolute upper end of my reach, I managed to coax her onto the blade of a hoe and lower her gently to the ground. I think I stressed my sternum.

She would have been safe enough in the tree overnight, if a bit chilly. It’s when she came down at the crack of dawn that’s the problem. Chickens who go into that field often don’t come back.

Have a good weekend and look out for Spoon!

December 4, 2020 — 4:34 pm
Comments: 11