FeDuP

I learned yesterday that Amazing and FeDeX are parting ways.

GOOD!

Of the three main delivery services, FeDeX is the worst. It is at least 10dB worse than UPS who, in turn, is at least 10 dB worse than USPS!

I have stated previously, that FeDeX manages to accurately deliver to my house in Greater Metropolitan Arab about 0.25 of the deliver trials. In 0.75 of the instances, they deliver somewhere else. I have ceased to even try for reimpursement; now I just ask a vendor who their delivery agent is and if they answer FeDeX, I try very hard to find that product elsewhere.

FeDeX delivery people are rude (because the corporate oligarchs make them be – I have had some who apologized for theri bosses,) they neither knock nor ring the doorbell nor send an email, and they dump the delivery willy-nilly anywhere they please – once in the middle of the driveway during a torrential rain that destroyed the box and its contents.

So roast in Tartarus, FeDeX!

For once, Amazon did a GOOD thing!

Well Done Religion

Ran across this article [Link] of a statement by an TC priest:

“I’m not so much into having a relationship with God as I am into mechanically conducting various rituals,” Donahue said. “To me, it just feels empty to contemplate a higher power without blindly obeying canon law and protecting the church as an institution.”

This gives new insight into why the RC church barbequed Giordno Bruno and imprisoned Galileo Galilei

Obviously thinking about reality and the Deity are sins that must be expunged from the planet.

Bat Mail

As in Bats In The Belfry.

Yesterday, I ran across an article [Link] entitled “Amazing! This New Gmail Feature Will Let You Know If You’re Being Normal In An Email” announcing/describing that Gooey, the folks who provide you with their information tar activities, will roll out a feature that natters your email composition.

Rather reminds me of that Paper Clip ghost that MegaHard cursed humanity with some years ago. Happily, it could be shredded into oblivion.

I have to admit that this article was disturbing from the title onward. I was disturbed by the (now common) misuse of the word “normal.” Normal has a meaning of either orthogonality or boundedness. That latter is a bit difficult for BOGs to handle so I will elaborate: the mathematical function goes to zero for large values of the argument. In this case, argument means value of the independent variable.

Sadly, too many BOGs think the “normal” means proper or civilized or cultured or house-broken. It doesn’t but given the high value placed on stupidity and ignorance in the Yankee Republic, I have no illusion that people who use “normal” inaccurately will change their ways. 

The college “educated” of these, who passed a brain depleted statistics course, seem to think normal is some range on a Gaussian distribution. I am unsure of whether to weep or curse at this absence of boundedness. 

Anyway, back to the idiocy of Gooey. The article gives some examples of how this algorithm operates. I was amused (bemused?) by the first which is an attack on something I got taught years ago when eMail had just seeped out of DARPA on how to communicate effectively in the sterile environment of eMail. This course advocated exaggeration, parentheticals, and even the ASCII cartoons calledd “smiley faces” in those days.

Now Gooey has a nattering paperclip that tells me not to do these things.

This is not to say that my composition skills are as good as I should like. But that’s about syntax, not Gooey’s dream of social “normality.” 

I have to admit that it did take me back to those good ole days of the original MegaHard paperclip when I wondered if I kept ignoring the eShmuck (stupid and EVIL!) that a buffer would overflow with my transgressions and the wee beastie would die a righteous Christian death of apoplexy over the infidelity and blasphemy? Sadly, my patience eroded first and I haad a few seconds of glee at the painful demise (for it, not me!) before the needs of reality intruded again.

Perhaps that’s Gooey’s problem? Like so many other iCorporations, they seem to have lost sight of their own limitations. Or perhaps they are planning on becoming the new religion of the masses? The sepulcher of the Holy Byte?

Divine Mind Rot

Humans are strange creatures. We have language and thought. But this week the Alibam Council of Thieves will be working to eliminate the citizenship of about 51% of the state’s population. So insecure and demented are representatives of the other 49% that they want to deny women humans in the state of their thought and speech. And freedom of purpose and action. 

All because they seem to think there is something sacred about humans. 

Meanwhile, the primitive inhabitants of the Trobriand Islanders do not reckon offspring to be human until they are weaned, and capable of speech and locomotion.

So who are the ones who can think?

We have an overpopulation problem. All over the planet. Not a small overpopulation, but an order-of-magnitude more people than makes any sense. 

And in Alibam, the elected elite want to make slaves of 90% of the population of the state. The disenfranchisement of women is merely the first step of their maniacal plan. Everyone else who isn’t an elected official is next. Or at least the pink ones.

This is the revenge for reconstruction. A terrorist plot to restore evil and cruelty which bubble unattained in their festered brains with superstitional insecurity. 

In their minds only pink men may think and act; all others must be subservient and expendable. 

Making Alibam Great.

 

Reversed Alimentary

I heard this morning on the broadcast news that Fartus Maximus is looking to add the title of Chief Thief of the United States (CTOTUS) to Chief Liar of the United States (CLOTUS.)

Isn’t it time this Stercus Brain was dragged off to Leavenworth? 

Memories of Greatness Past

Yesterday, our microwave cooking box – I hesitate to call anything so flimsy an oven although I lack the same sensitivities for the parade of toaster ovens, also flimsy and short lived – failed. My hypothesis is that the klystron committed Sepuku, which is at least somewhat plausible given that it and its replacement were manufactured on the Pacific Rim.

If anything, the replacement is even more flimsy than its predecessor and totally devoid of warranty, given that we became concerned over the predecessor’s functionality three years ago and by the marital coupling of my caution and FD SCP’s mania for “bargains,” we bought the replacement shortly thereafter when conditions satisfied both of our mental defects.

The disfunctionality occurred as we were finishing the preparation of luncheon and after an excellent repast, we soaked the dishes in the sink and did a long left shift of microwave device registers. All I can say about this is that we are both a bit stiff this morning and the rubbish lorry driver may be in for a bit of a surprise come Wednesday. 

After the exertions, I had occasion to reflect on my college cooking activities. For much of my undergraduate tenure, I resided in Mallett Hall on the Campus of the Black Warrior. We were not allowed any cooking apparatus but since we had steam heat, the supply of hot water was abundant and rapidly scalding. Additionally, once (American) football season was over, the dorm was virtually deserted on weekends. All but the unmotorized, which included almost all Freshmen, and the academically devout (the religiously devout hastened home to enjoy home gluttony and fornication,) were gone. And the Graduate Student “Dorm Parent” was crashing in one of the libraries in preparation for Quals or some other exam whose failure got you a year’s vacation in the Republic of Vietnam.

As a freshman, I was introduced – Mallett was the NERD Dorm – to a wonderful mixture known as “Gorp.” The components of Gorp were three: a Macaroni and Cheese box; a package of “hot dogs;” and a can of cream of mushroom soup. Learning how to prepare the Mac and Cheese with steaming water in the sink was the hard part. To this was added sliced hot dogs and the can of soup which was industriously stirred until macroscopically uniform. Consumption of this mixture was guaranteed to prepare one for two extra beers before unconsciousness, at least for the upper classmen who could consume beer legally.

College students then were very fastidious about legality. 

Since then, in the dead of winter, I am periodically allowed to prepare Gorp by FD SCP. She is never happy with me in her kitchen, mostly because I spent more time in lab than is good for anyone who prepares food. And she always finds some excuse to vacate the domicile, such as a craft show or something similar, until the mixture is complete. Of course, that is easier today since I use the microwave macaroni and cheese – whence the tale is not circular – and the hot dogs are low sodium, such as such pretend to be, and she pretends to enjoy the repast. 

Hopefully we shall have one more cold snap this winter. 

Spelling Month

One of the things I hate the most about winter is post nasal drip. I know of few sensations more obnoxious and worrisome than the accumulation of nose fluid on the tip on the nose. If there is such a state as Tartarus, then I am confident that my punishment will be permanent post nasal drip. 

Speaking of drip, one that I evaded was last night’s sports pornography extravaganza. Unfortunately, I could not evade the television dyspepsia deriving from the hormone surge. I suspect I shall have to atone for that avoidance by being subjected to more explicitness of the psychotic and stupidiferous behavior of fartus maximus.

I have to motor to Nawth Alibam’s shining city on the hill today to commit my motorcar to the garage for bashing and serve as responsible adult for FD SCP after her annual eye inspection. The wait is acceptable but that the facility is located in a coffee desert is not. Horrible example of medical abuse.

And this is the month of the mis-spelled/mis-pronounced month name. For some reason no one handle that first “r”.