Ode of Joy

Saturn’s Day. Yuck. The weather beavers were accurate: it snowed yesterday. Not sure how much is out there but not much. A few centimeters, And I don;t propose to go sample a hundred different spots on my property to get a meaningful mean. Well, expectation value.

It did get low in temperature last night. Not as low as foretold for tomorrow but lower than the weather beavers foretold. Except the Yankee government’s National Weather Service. Second winter I have been keeping statistics that they have a lower “error” expected value than the big teethed ones in Nawth Alibam’s Shining City on the Hill.

So why do we bother with them? Not sure. Their news is almost always irrelevant or redundant, and too often stale. Much of what they present is rubbish and rotted rubbish. Kitchen scraps. Sob sister stercus. Ivory soap of what I watch from them is the weather. And that part is increasingly inaccurate compared to other, more available, sources.

No wonder the GEN Ys are cutting their connection to programmed television.

The only merit I can find to it is that it occurs as a time when FD SCP and I come together to watch. Which is a good, if somewhat warped, thing. But enough to justify those folks’ existence? 

I will wait till good daylight to assay out of house to see if the roads are iced. I suspect strongly that they are. The inspection is more one of insecurity and dedication than anything else. After all, I know the local conscript parents and the Greater Metropolitan Arab government have done bupkus – at most – to ameliorate the unsafety of the streets. What are they after all, responsible? Of course not. 

Message to folks thinking of moving to Arab: count on losing several days of work when the roads ice up because the city can spend millions for religionist lamps but zilch for safety. Stay in Huntsville where they have a real government that accepts responsibility and actually does things to safeguard its citizenry.

At least the Arab Electron Uncooperative hasn’t bugged out yet. Yet. Waiting is. Ditto the Oneonta Telephone Company. Although their ISP bandwidth should go away in another hour with all the people cooped up wanting to gratify their sensory depravity instantly.

Another fun day expected in Greater Metropolitan Arab. Plus a lot of wrecked motorcars driven by bogs who have no idea how to drive, much less on ice.

Bunker Day in the Sowth.