Hoilday Introduction

Maybe better. Air temperature, that is. But a yuh sundae. And little inclination to mumble. So you’ll have to make do with a cartoon: [Link]

I ran across. It rather summarizes the pre-adult intro attitude towards holiday activity. NO PARTIES. NO RELATIVES! That’s what it takes to make a good season.

Of course as adults we just say no and put up with the parental complaints and nagging and guilt trips or go and be sullen and unhappy making. And be nagged by parents to be nice and play with others.

Christmas is a visitation of agony and the best way to deal with it is to go hide in a hole.

Because the extros are incapable of any comprehension of how horrible they are.

Full of Sound if not Fury

Survived the expedition to Nawth Alibam’s Shining City on the Hill. Actually almost enjoyable. Everything went right except my cellular telephone. It was pretending it was a Winders phone – crash every other CPU cycle and do nothing in between. Of for my Motorola brick! Which is saying something since the current phone is a Motorola. Has to be the OS. For some reason the Ubuntu phone suddenly looks much more attractive.

But this did prompt me to as myself what is the Android human type? As we know, The Winders human type is bog and the Apple human type is geek, and the Linux human type is nerd, at least modally, so what is the Android human type. I am not sure. It may be anti-geeks, since a lot of Android users have hatred fro Apple and its slaves. But a lot of folks I know who use Android are geeks. And there are bogs and nerds who use Android. It must have a different dimensionality?

Speaking of which, one of my colleagues, Magnetic Inductance Force, send me this cartoon: [:ink]

and I recalled my own days in elementary school. Although I wasn’t taught a lot of elemental things there and so I am unsure of the taxonomy’s validity. I never attended preschule since we didn’t have those things in the ’50’s. We just have mothers. Which most kids these days don’t have. Their biological mothers work and so their social mothering is left to hirelings. Not saying these latter aren’t good folk and are probably more qualified than the biologicals, just that was how things were and are.

I did get to participate in a play, I believe in third grade, but it was a paltry thing that lacked anything as cool as a "head cold germ". As I recall I got a role mostly because of my memory rather than any talent. Happily I disposed of any idea of acting as work quickly and got to re-concentrate on those things that weren’t taught in schule, like reading and writing and maths and science.

I hear lots of complaints about the current irrelevance and incompetence of the schools. I have even uttered some of them. But this is not new. Our schools have always been irrelevant and incompetent, the playthings of politicians who usually don’t send their children to them. Education, I am convinced increasingly as I age, is a matter of the individual and some help from parents and mentors; the schools are a detriment and a cancer.

Except for having pageants with head cold germs.

Heat Hate

The expedition to Nawth Alibam’s Shining City on the Hill was successful in that I both survived and returned alive to Greater Metropolitan Arab. On the down side I was reminded that the year is closing out and next week’s expedition will be the last until after the holiday is passed.

As in kidney stone passed.

On the bright side, one of my colleagues sent me a link to a cartoon:

which captures several dimensions. First, it is rather how I feel about winter in general and why I cannot take constitutional in park. I am not sure how much of it is surviving too long and how much is chemicals in my blood and body that reduce my heat capacity, but both are clearly factors. It is hard to walk when you are shivering so hard you cannot stay erect. And I experience that at an absurdly high temperature.

The second is that cold is a sensation. It is not a thermodynamic metric. It cannot be measured and we can therefore, per Lord Kelvin, not really know anything substantive about it. That however, gets at its nature. Sensation is often something we cannot know except by experience. It is orthogonal to any understanding beyond the observational. Beyond the binary – Ising – observation of its presence/non-presence, it is not objective. Hence the idea, the actuality, of too cold is purely subjective, and needs best be accepted as such. Criticism and judgment are inappropriate, destructive. But that sadly is the nature of humans. Somehow we can only be happy sometimes if we are making others unhappy.

And that is why winter is such a human thing.

Sleep Breakng

Yesterday was better. Not higher temperature. On the edge of shivering much of the day. But we issued forth for family breakfast observance of the holy day (Thanksgiving,) delayed by cross-obligations, a lesson in network mechanics if the dowager parent (grandparent, great-grandparent) were at all interested or attentive. But things went well – better than usual – and hence it was satisfactory if not exactly uplifting. And now all we have to dread is the BIG holy day, Newtonmas. Or for most of the family, Christmas.

I am divided on whether I prefer Newtonmas or Winter Solstice. Both are preferable to prevaricative religionist appellations. I don’t object to them observing as they will but I consider evangelism to be criminal. Harassment. Bullying. Speaking for Deity.

When we returned to Castellum SCP we were en-visited by plumbers who had finally arrived to install new taps so that my drippage might be made a bit less stressful. So we fluttered about while three new sets of taps, all direct, were installed. With only moderate panic from FD SCP. Some modifications – minor – of counter-tops were necessary to accommodate a decade of change in taps (even though they are also restoration pseudo-antiques!) and this put her design investment at risk and hence a bit of panic. But it was endured, cheque enscribed, and back – belatedly – to Freya day routine.

It was still too low temperature this morning for me to assay a constitutional – I have high hopes for tomorrow – so I am running a bit ahead of schedule and managed to consult a few articles. One, a podcast also, [Link] entitled "Early birds vs night owls" was a bit perverse and irritating. I was rather upset by a statement:

"But in modern society, we’re pretty much trapped in a 9-5 routine, which means that poor night owls are at a natural disadvantage, and constantly face sleep deprivation."

This is the veriest of stercus tauri.. Point is that if one is an "early riser" getting up at 0330 or so, then 0900 is the equivalent of noon for someone who rises at 0600 and 1700 is the middle of the evening. So one-sidedly saying the imposed work schedule is nasty to night owls is prejudice and bigotry.

But I cannot say that I am surprised. Journalists are whacked these days. Their appearance of even-handedness is pure pretense and facade only. Predominantly, early risers are intros, geeks and nerds, and not extro bogs, who are the preferred audience for some reason. Besides night owls are somehow more acceptable than early risers, who only serve to assure the continuation of the species and the organization. Those who persecute early risers have short lifespans, mostly because outsiders – them! – execute dawn attacks and slaughter the night owls in their slumber.

Although I do have to wonder how one can observe some of the supposed effects of sleep deprivation on night owls, especially the mental ones, since they are not known for mentation anyway. But it seems likely the journalist is a night owl and hence is exercising her own dissatisfaction with the pains of civilization and society.

Tag Deferred

Survived. But it was a challenge. Happily, (?) the family gathering is not till this morning so some of the stress of anticipation has been maintained. But FD SCP and I managed to endure the day and have our own – abbreviated – observance. She spent most of the day asleep while I tried to find some television content that was not terminally maudlin nor terminally boring. The search was largely a failure. Couple with that that my primary box is whacked for some reason that I have not yet fully understood, much less corrected, and the internet connection was so sparse as to be non-existent. I do love it when the schules are desessioned.

Because of the latter I have no real content to masticate and so I am at a loss for any pithy commentary.

The temperature is much reduced this morning, which has not enlivened my spirits. In fact it has temped me to access the spirits. The kind in a bottle, not superstition. We shall have enough of that when the family convenes.

I do detest these massive holidays. They warp the space-time of the week and beyond. This feels more like Sundae than Freya’s day. And if it were sundae then tomorrow would be mundane day and this madness would be ceased for a while. I used to daydream about technological hibernation, being able to hide in a box, unaware, during the bad times of the year, summer and winter. But now that these are basically all of the year staying awake seems a pointless exercise. I fear that indicates times of great upheaval ahead.

At least I will not be drug out into the maelstrom of shopping, except possibly by entrainment of others’ wake. It occurs that I have not been actually – physically – shopping in some months. The internet is much easier if less demonstrative. Perhaps that is also what is wanted. Less sensation, more dull. Civilization is a comic book.

Looking for Thankful

The day of dread has arrived. Yes, Thanksgiving. The local newsrag has a column written by the newest bible thumper in town. I am not sure if that’s a matter of vanity or naivety, but this week he wrote about what is proper and improper in Thanksgiving prayers.

Basic stuff for christianists, right? Wrong. It’s all extro stuff. I suppose the majority of pulpit pushers are extro but I am constantly amazed at how unimindedly extro they are as a group. It has been years since I ran into one who was the least bit intro conscious, which is probably why I avoid services like they were Ebola.

So it occurred to me what would an intro thanksgiving prayer be like. It certainly wouldn’t be about bragging because intros don’t brag well. But I’m not sure it would be necessarily thankful since there isn’t much about thanksgiving for an intro to be thankful about. I suppose, if they didn’t have to any family activities or such with extro it might be “thank you for not having to endure the extro ordeal of a highly stressful social gathering.” Or if you did, as most of us have to, it’s likely “help me endure this extro Hell.” Which is not very thankful but it is accurate.

Of course the rational, nerd intros are going to realize that these prayers are ineffective and while the first is harmless the second is actually harmful because it raises false hopes that intensify the awfulness of interminable hours with TOO MANY extros when the prayer fails.

On a happier note, I see [Link] that a lithic hafted axe has bee discovered in Denmark. Big deal! Axes are discovered every day. Old axes are discovered every day. But it is a big deal since this one is still hafted.

Yep, that’s a 5.5 KY old ax complete with haft. That’s handle for the extro bogs. And that’s something exceedingly rare. And it’s something to be thankful for.

Unlike gatherings with extros.