A Modest Proposal:
We build snow sheds on the Interstates in the Sierras, why not tornado sheds in Oklahoma. Design for the maximum number of cars on a ten mile (variable) stretch( all cars in that mileage would be in the shelter in less than ten minutes), put bumper to bumper in a shelter that is over the existing roadway with storm proof doors at each end. Some shelters would be small. Those in or near cities would be larger. The tops could be used for wildlife cross overs in rural areas or green areas and parks in the cities. A tornado deflecting structure would cost less than a comparable snow shed. However, the cost/benefit of the lives saved may not be good enough to afford the structures.
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
animal emotion thinking logic territorial imperative niche and survival
- Junior Bear Alfred Korzybski "Manhood of Humanity : The Science and Art of Human Engineering" (1921)http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/25457
- Junior Bear But he is wrong. We are animals that think. Evil men demarcate between men and animals not at all and use man as animals. Enlightened men demarcate between men and animals not at all and understand we are part of the whole of all demensions.
- Junior Bear "the map and the territory..." was recast in the 1970's as the "Territorial Imperative". All animals (perhaps all life) have a territory and they demarcate it (map it) on the the ground and in their minds and along the borders they fight for more an to protect what they have. Even plants, lichen on a rock, do this. Territory is niche, and niche is required for life and life is required for evolution.The next may not be earth animal. It may be AI or Grey Goo or it may not be any more than what has been, but in a parallel form.
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Monday, April 15, 2013
Let It Go She Said....Grump Spit Sputter Growl & Piss
There were 40 people on the tour's motor coach originally built for 60. thus there was 30% more leg room and 30% more ability to recline and 30% more window for everyone. Of course things weren't wider, but it made for a pretty nice comfortable tour. One I would recommend to anyone over 50.
There were two sub-groups within the tour. One from Kansas City which numbered 25 or so (never figured it out for sure) and a group of six from different parts of the country that were kinfolk to one another or long time friends. Then there was the rest of us. At the very first boarding, the tour coordinator watched how slow I was moving with my cane and all and tagged me as his "aisle blocker" as opposed to any of the others. So he took me aside and assigned me the front right seat reserved for the handicapped and ask me to get on and off either last or first. At my speed that meant always last. The seat actually had less leg room than the other seats because there wasn't a seat in front of it, but it looked directly out of the front window. As a photographer that pleased me greatly, and even offset to some degree the "handicapped" designation which I found embarrassing.
Forty people on board, 38 of who were gracious friendly kind and helpful. Then there was me and this other guy. He was in the group of six. He was 69, slim trim and healthy and very active, as were all in his cadre. They were the ones that went to all the shows and river rafting and the little hiking trips and so forth. He and his wife had claimed the seat across from us and just behind the driver. 3&4 of his group was behind them and 5&6 were right behind us. They were all nice people. He, not so much as nice. It seems somewhere in the process he wanted the best seat for photographs. (His camera was a Nikon DSLR with lens that inter-changed) But instead I had it. Whoops.
He really wasn't a photographer. He was a poser. Double meaning that word. He posed as a photographer and as a photographer he like to com-pose his photographs by posing people in them.
Now you begin to see why my wife says, "Let it go!" No, no, not me.
He took away a big chunk of my peace of mind with little side remarks, none so offensive that anyone could challenge him on them. He didn't appreciate that the tour guide had placed us in the handicapped seat, where he wanted to be. So for five days he nibble away, and I behaved. But still I hate his type. Just saying, my meds really are working and he is a lucky guy that they are. The wife says he will always be miserable because nothing will ever be quite good enough for him. Well I don't do schadenfreude, I like immediate open revenge or let revenge grow cold then have at it. I don't remember his name. Made a point of that. So I'm writing this little tirade to dispose of my last bit of spite for him, knowing that there are others others out there like him. I just hope they sit several seats down from me next time and I'll take my tunes to block out their mutters.
There were two sub-groups within the tour. One from Kansas City which numbered 25 or so (never figured it out for sure) and a group of six from different parts of the country that were kinfolk to one another or long time friends. Then there was the rest of us. At the very first boarding, the tour coordinator watched how slow I was moving with my cane and all and tagged me as his "aisle blocker" as opposed to any of the others. So he took me aside and assigned me the front right seat reserved for the handicapped and ask me to get on and off either last or first. At my speed that meant always last. The seat actually had less leg room than the other seats because there wasn't a seat in front of it, but it looked directly out of the front window. As a photographer that pleased me greatly, and even offset to some degree the "handicapped" designation which I found embarrassing.
Forty people on board, 38 of who were gracious friendly kind and helpful. Then there was me and this other guy. He was in the group of six. He was 69, slim trim and healthy and very active, as were all in his cadre. They were the ones that went to all the shows and river rafting and the little hiking trips and so forth. He and his wife had claimed the seat across from us and just behind the driver. 3&4 of his group was behind them and 5&6 were right behind us. They were all nice people. He, not so much as nice. It seems somewhere in the process he wanted the best seat for photographs. (His camera was a Nikon DSLR with lens that inter-changed) But instead I had it. Whoops.
He really wasn't a photographer. He was a poser. Double meaning that word. He posed as a photographer and as a photographer he like to com-pose his photographs by posing people in them.
Now you begin to see why my wife says, "Let it go!" No, no, not me.
He took away a big chunk of my peace of mind with little side remarks, none so offensive that anyone could challenge him on them. He didn't appreciate that the tour guide had placed us in the handicapped seat, where he wanted to be. So for five days he nibble away, and I behaved. But still I hate his type. Just saying, my meds really are working and he is a lucky guy that they are. The wife says he will always be miserable because nothing will ever be quite good enough for him. Well I don't do schadenfreude, I like immediate open revenge or let revenge grow cold then have at it. I don't remember his name. Made a point of that. So I'm writing this little tirade to dispose of my last bit of spite for him, knowing that there are others others out there like him. I just hope they sit several seats down from me next time and I'll take my tunes to block out their mutters.
Connections
In all of life and art there is an underlying theme of order and mathematics. Make of it what you will, but no mater how and why the universe functions there is this underlying connection of everything to everything and back again. Whether by design, random occurrence, or utter chaos the connections are never broken. Meaning or no meaning, they are always there, and they are always satisfying and beautiful.
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Let's NOT Honor the 50th Anniversary of Vietnam
This idea of memorializing the Vietnam "conflict" is not so hot. For one thing, they are starting it two years too late for a 50th celebration. It started officially in 1960, not 62.
Secondly, I would venture that most of us left alive from Nam (about 800,000 maybe less) just don't care to relive it. Then there is that hatred that we had to live with for 20 years after we came back. It seems that the ultra left is ginning it up again. I've read articles that blame the Vietnam conflict all on the United States and our Imperial desires. Not even our opponents believed that. And of course giving honor to those that fought there is a no no too.
So here it is on wind again--atrocities--baby killers--killers--murders--genocide-- I don't really want to hear that again. I don't want to watch the parades knowing the most of those marching by who are supposedly Viet Vets are fakes and wanna be types. I don't want to listen to our newest vets referring to us as whiners and sponges consuming all the VA resources. And for god's sake shut up about Jane Fonda.
Leave Vietnam alone. Leave it be. Don't rip off any scabs. Give us all here at home and our counterparts in Nam another 10-15 years and we will all be dead. Then let the fakers march and parade and be honored.
Secondly, I would venture that most of us left alive from Nam (about 800,000 maybe less) just don't care to relive it. Then there is that hatred that we had to live with for 20 years after we came back. It seems that the ultra left is ginning it up again. I've read articles that blame the Vietnam conflict all on the United States and our Imperial desires. Not even our opponents believed that. And of course giving honor to those that fought there is a no no too.
So here it is on wind again--atrocities--baby killers--killers--murders--genocide-- I don't really want to hear that again. I don't want to watch the parades knowing the most of those marching by who are supposedly Viet Vets are fakes and wanna be types. I don't want to listen to our newest vets referring to us as whiners and sponges consuming all the VA resources. And for god's sake shut up about Jane Fonda.
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Well Gad Dam I punched the correct button or somthin.
Sorry for being so stupid but for a month now I have NOT been able post anything cause I couldn't figure what they (Gurgel) had done and I was a "magazine" or something and "post" a new blog was no where to be found. Still don't know how the devil I got to a control page even now. These guys here at this new blog thing are so bright that they are idiot savants. Maybe just idiots. Anyway I bookmarked the magic pages and maybe, just maybe, I will be able to blog again. So I am back to "Simple" which is actually more complete/complex than their graphic eyepoppers designed for bubble gummers. Maybe I'm just to old to do this. I mean my first telephone call was on a party line of 15 people and my "Number" was two longs and a short on the crank. I did work with Big Daddy however in the Agency and latter in life created a unitary data system for a whole frickin State Higher Education System that was copied by a dozen other states. You know seriously I had to fire one of my programmers when he mucked up the data base by fixing it and improving on it. Anyways I've been pissed for a month, but now I back, I think.
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