Hamas Is In The House

In case you are wondering what's going on with our colleges and universities these days, let me explain: Hamas is in the house. They have begun working towards their goal of dismantling the country by infiltrating its weakest link: College students, who are for the most part willing idiots totally uninterested in becoming educated. 

This was not always true but is the case these days. Rabid American kids sporting Palestinian head scarfs don't know anything about the long history of Israel, the past attacks by Islamic extremists and the inherent dangers of supporting Hamas. Many of them have admitted to not knowing "why we're here" when interviewed on TV!

Columbia University is Ground Zero for the infiltration, aided and abetted by its Muslim born and raised President, Minouche Shafik, who has done nothing at all to stop the increasingly violent demonstrations on her campus. In fact, members of her faculty and staff have come out to support the student invasions, standing arm-in-arm in a line to protect the demonstrators from law enforcement. 

Today students are breaking down doors, smashing windows and occupying school buildings at Columbia. I wonder why nobody is stopping this. I guess it's because President Obama likes it.

Colorful, But Still Monsters

Those surly, smart-ass, know-it-all (who really know nothing) American youngsters currently holding protests at exclusive colleges and universities across the country -- threatening Jewish students and causing the cancellations of many graduation ceremonies -- didn't spring out of the womb as monsters. No, not at all. They were created over time through steady indoctrination by the super-liberal teachers and policies at the schools they attended from the age of about five. 

By the time they reach college, these arrogant, spoiled children feel they can do no wrong. One particularly precocious student, Vanderbilt University freshman Jack Petocz, 19, boasts that what got him accepted was his high-school record as an outstanding organizer of student protests.

So off he went to college, where he enthusiastically organized the current pro-Palestinian protests taking place there. Until a few days ago, when he was expelled for doing too good a job. (Oops.) 

As was reported in The Times of Israel:  "Petocz said protesting in high school was what helped get him into Vanderbilt and secure a merit scholarship for activists and organizers. His college essay was about organizing walkouts in rural Florida to oppose Gov. Ron DeSantis’ anti-LGBTQ policies. 'Vanderbilt seemed to love that,' Petocz said. 'Unfortunately, the buck stops when you start advocating for Palestinian liberation.'"

Oh, one other thing, which is kind of funny: Jack is gay. Yet he is protesting in favor of the Palestinians and Hamas. Does Jack fully understand what Hamas does to gay boys? Maybe not. "Homosexuality in the Palestinian territories is considered a taboo subject; lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people experience persecution and violence as well as prison sentences from 10 to 14 years. Living as a Queer person in Gaza is punishable by torture and death by Hamas, the rulers of Gaza." - Wikipedia

Just sayin, do a little research Jack.

Who Are The Protesters?

 

So exactly who are those student protesters at college campuses around the country? The photo above shows one of them taking a much-needed break at Columbia University in New York City. After all, running around chanting, "Free Gaza!" and "Death to the Jews!" can really take it out of a person, and as we all have been reminded over and over again, black lives matter. So go ahead and take a load off, honey, and make sure to get one of those $18.00 sandwiches being delivered to the encampment by generous Democratic millionaires. (She looks hangry, doesn't she?)

Sundays Are Hard

It's Sunday, so the New York Times is in the house. Even though we buy it primarily for the crossword puzzle in the magazine section, still we read the world news and then gird our loins for the editorial pages. To be honest, it's infuriating to see how the facts are twisted this way and that to fit the Democrat's agenda, which is elusive at best and suicidal at worst. Fairness is nowhere in evidence, neither in the headlines nor the small print. (See photo)

What strikes me the most when I trudge through the one-sided articles is how very mean and nasty the authors are to the other side, meaning Republicans and anyone who dares to be an Independent. And God forbid you should admit to liking Donald Trump, like half the country does -- remembering fondly how much better life was for all of us when he was in office -- you should just die and go to Hell, at least according to the liberals who publish that paper. 

Tomorrow is Monday and the Wall Street Journal, where cooler heads prevail, will arrive at our door. Thank God.

Obama's New America

Barack Hussein Obama relaxing at home.

The situation on many of America's college campuses is dire. Not only are we learning that students are brainless sheep who would literally jump off the Brooklyn Bridge if one of their TikTok influencers suggested it, or buy the bridge for a good price, but that many of them hate the Jewish people. 

Anti-Israeli demonstrations are taking place at schools including NYU, Columbia and Harvard, the latter boasting an on-campus glamping site where expensive foods are being delivered directly to their brand new tents so the naughty children won't go hungry while shouting "Death to America!" and "Free Palestine," and of course "We are Hamas!"

Since my husband and I are currently caught up in the HULU series "We Were the Lucky Ones," about a Jewish family in the clutches of the Holocaust, it's hard not to see the parallels. In Warsaw, Jews are being slaughtered in the streets, whereas in New York City, Jewish students and professors at Columbia are being told to "stay home." Why? Is street-slaughtering a growing possibility?

Here in our little town in Maine, where hating Jews comes with the territory, it won't be long before this latest wave of antisemitism hits. I am actually worried that a hostile band of youngsters sporting those black and white Palestinian scarves will come crashing through our door and hold us hostage, forcing us to get tattoos, tongue piercings, nose rings and ear gauges and eat Velveeta cheese sandwiches on white bread with Miracle Whip. (What, no Hellman's?)

Surely someone should stop all this nonsense, but with a Muslim president at Columbia it won't happen there. As for Joe Biden, well, he's just Obama's puppet, and everyone knows that Obama is loving all of this. It's exactly what he promised us back when he was in office.

 

Plop, Plop, Fizz, Fizz

It's hard to believe that what began in 2004 as an innocent tool intended for Harvard college boys to meet attractive coeds on campus has morphed into a quasi-porn cesspool rife with commercial advertising and a bombardment of homemade videos, called Reels, shoving sometimes real, mostly fake, always nauseating big-bosomed women and vitriolic streams of political sputum into our faces. 

Sadly, Facebook has become this totally repugnant yet addictive waste of time. To me it represents the coming Fall of Man, which by the way I see as a good thing; if humans stick around much longer, things can only continue to go downhill.

So what am I doing here? I would love to quit Facebook, but then my blog (which you are currently reading) would reach nobody. And I really like it when I reach somebody, even just one person. Still, supporting Facebook sort of makes me sick to my stomach, which is why I go through so much Alka-Seltzer.

Bring On the Tear Gas

On October 12, 1969, knowing next to nothing about the situation, I accompanied three college friends to a demonstration. It was the first one I had ever attended and they convinced me it was about time, since I was after all a pot-smoking hippie with a navy blue pea coat, blue jeans, long straight hair and granny glasses who had been to Woodstock just two months earlier. 

I didn't want to go, being a hard-core pacifist and a coward, but my friends assured me that it wouldn't take too long and that afterwards we'd go get pizza. That sealed the deal since New Jersey pizza back then was astoundingly good, and as NYC residents we rarely crossed the river for anything.

The cause was named "Free the Fort Dix 38." Apparently some 38 soldiers stationed at Fort Dix, New Jersey were being held in horrendous conditions on the army base there, and the demonstration was to make a scene and get them justice. Of course I had no idea what they had done in the first place to land them in army jail, but still it sounded unfair. 

"The Fort's information officer, Colonel A. J. Nealon said "it was the first time in his knowledge that demonstrators had entered Federal military property anywhere in the country." They were repelled by some of the 1,000 MPs on guard who moved into position with tear gas and fixed bayonets The demonstration ended peacefully and there were no arrests." --Wikipedia

So we got there, parked the car in a grassy field and walked onto the Army base. After standing around for awhile staring at a line of armed soldiers dressed for combat, suddenly there was tear gas everywhere. Specifically, in my eyes. It was bad. Really bad. It was a nightmare. I decided that no pizza, even one with anchovies and black olives as had been promised, was worth this horror.

Somehow we ran fast enough to escape the toxic clouds and got back to the car. I never joined another demonstration. Now I'm wondering -- why don't they simply unload some tear gas on all those anti-Israeli protesters on college campuses and be done with it?

A Dark Day At the Symphony

Yesterday I saw first-hand the blind ignorance of Mainers. Sure, there are smart Mainers, notably my dermatologist, my hip surgeon, my dentist and a few of my friends, so I'm not trying to imply that all people born and bred in Maine are dummies. Just a lot of them.

My husband and I had gone to downtown's Merrill Auditorium to attend a performance by the Portland Symphony Orchestra. Arriving early, we stayed outside for a while to enjoy the afternoon sunshine before entering the darkened concert hall. On a street corner nearby, a young man was hawking something. Curious, we approached to see what he was pitching. It turned out he was collecting signatures to assure Robert F. Kennedy Jr. a spot on the November presidential ballot. Naturally we signed, thinking that A, it didn't mean we had to vote for the man and B, the more the merrier. How could it hurt for voters to have other choices besides a senile old coot and a much-maligned bigmouth?

To our surprise, amazement and finally disgust, not one other person would sign. We watched as the young man politely approached the parade of dignified-looking, well-dressed, white-haired, mostly elderly concert-goers on their way to an afternoon of delightful music. Each one in turn pulled away in literal horror and all but spit at him: "No, no, no, no, no, never, absolutely not, no, no, no!" Following are some of their responses:

"He's an anti-vaxxer!"

"I would sign to keep him off the ballot!"

"He's a kook!"

"No, never, anyone but him!"

"Even his own family doesn't support him!"

"He's a total nut!"

"I would rather sign to put Trump in jail!"

"No, oh my God, you should be ashamed!"

I was stunned at the lack of intelligence prevalent in such a supposedly intelligent crowd. After all, they liked Classical music, usually a sign of good breeding. Yet every last one of them parroted the same worn-out platitudes they had been fed by the liberal media. (What a coincidence!) Doubtless every one of them would have signed a petition to allow transgenders to use whatever bathrooms they choose in the public schools, or to allow women to abort their babies right up until their due dates. 

The thought that someone who is against government-mandated vaccinations is considered insane but someone who takes puberty blockers and surgically removes their breasts or penis and then declares themselves a member of the opposite sex is seen as perfectly sane just blows my mind.

Eventually we went inside to hear the concert but the whole time I was disturbed to be sitting among a crowd of such unthinking, uncaring, illogical lemmings who had no grasp of how our political system is supposed to work.

How to Live Longer (If You Want To)

Fernando Botero painted fat people.

It's common knowledge that exercise leads to better health and ultimately a longer life. Yeah, yeah, famous runner and author Jim Fixx died of a heart attack while out jogging at the age of 52. Okay, there are exceptions (more about those later). But that's not the norm, and according to a Washington, DC privately-funded organization called Trust for America's Health, obesity is on the rise here. They published the following report last September: 

" Over the past two decades obesity rates have climbed for all population groups with certain populations of color experiencing the highest rates, often due to structural barriers to healthy eating and a lack of opportunities and places to be physically active. Nationally, 41.9 percent of adults have obesity. Black and Latino adults have the highest obesity rates at 49.9 percent and 45.6 percent respectively.  People living in rural communities have higher rates of obesity than people living in urban and suburban areas."

I am scratching my head wondering what could possibly be a "structural barrier to healthy eating" that causes certain populations of color to have the highest rates of obesity, a.k.a. to be big fatties. Are there steel fences, possibly electrified, erected in front of the produce departments of grocery stores in black and Latino neighborhoods? What constitutes a "lack of opportunity and places to be physically active" in these same communities? And why are people living in rural areas fatter than those in the suburbs and cities?

"Physical activity reduces many major mortality risk factors including arterial hypertension, diabetes mellitus type 2, dyslipidemia, coronary heart disease, stroke, and cancer. All-cause mortality is decreased by about 30% to 35% in physically active as compared to inactive subjects." --National Institute of Health

About those exceptions: If you are confined to a wheelchair or a bed, first off let me say how sorry I am that you have to bear such a burden in life. My heart breaks for you, literally, I can hardly stand to think about it. Naturally, you people will likely not get any exercise, or not much. But beyond that, if you can walk you can exercise. In fact, walking in rural areas has often been cited as the best way to exercise, especially in the woods which the Japanese call "forest bathing" and which offers other benefits to both the body and spirit. Many motivated urbanites get in their cars and drive to rural areas specifically for that purpose. 

And unless you live in a cage like a baby calf that will someday become some carnivorous meathead's veal piccata entree in an Italian restaurant, you can even exercise inside your home. All you need is a floor and a chair, and if you don't have those then exercise is not your biggest problem. So get off your big fat butt and get moving. No excuses.

Some People Did Something

This morning being Sunday, and we being Jews, my husband and I splurged and had bagels with lox and cream cheese (and onions, tomatoes and capers) for breakfast. I say "splurged" because lox is pretty damn expensive so it's a once-in-a-while thing. Anyway, you can thank the Jews in Krakow, Poland for inventing bagels in 1610, which have since become a diet staple enjoyed by people the world over, maybe even people who wear hijabs.

Besides bagels, Jews have invented or are responsible for the existence of so many things we all need, love and/or use. As Ilhan Omar might put it, "Some people did something." A few of the somethings are listed below:

Blue Jeans, Lipstick, Ballpoint Pens, Contraceptives, Instant Coffee, the TV Remote Control, Traffic Lights, Scotchguard, Flexistraws, Genetic Engineering, Virtual Reality, Hollywood movies, the Sit-Com, Comic Books, the Long-Playing Record, Woodstock Music Festival, Videotape, Color TV, Instant Photography, Holography, Psychoanalysis, Cheesecake, Cafeterias, Discount Stores, Pawn Shops, Shopping Carts, Prozac, Valium, the Polio Vaccine, Radiation, Chemotherapy, the Artificial Kidney Dialysis machine, the Defibrillator, the Cardiac Pacemaker, Vaccination against “Hepatitis B” virus, the Vaccinating Needle, Laser Technology, Google, FAX machines, the Microphone, the Gramophone, the Microprocessing Chip, Optical Fiber Cable, Cellular Technology, the Videotape Recorder, Facebook, Scale Model Electric Trains, the Pager, the Walkie-talkie, Refrigerated Railroad Cars (likely inspired by the stiflingly hot trains carrying Jews to death camps during the Holocaust), High-vacuum Electron Tubes, the Incandescent Lamp, Kodachrome Film, the Blimp, the Adding Machine and Stainless Steel, to name but a few. 

To be fair, the Arabs have also given us some good stuff: Where would we be without the harp, lyre, zither, drum, tambourine, flute, oboe and reed instruments? I hate to even think about it.

I Believe In Yesterday

This morning I spent some time reading my old blog posts. Much to my amazement, they were much funnier than the ones I have been writing recently, and by recently I mean since Biden and his pet monkey took office, and by "pet monkey" I mean Kamala because she's an idiot with not an idea in her head and not because she is "of color," so not disrespecting black people by comparing them to monkeys. 

In years past I wrote funny stories about personal experiences. Lately I write depressing stories about real life horror, including deadly pandemics and wars and political discord and illegal immigration and mass murderers and rampant crime in our major cities. 

This has got to stop. So starting today I will return to my roots and write about my nutty childhood and growing up kosher except for eating bacon and more stuff like that. Not today, just giving you a heads-up of what's coming. I promise, tomorrow's post will be hysterical.

Nuke Gaza (or at Least Ilhan Omar)

If they can say "From the river to the sea," I can say "Nuke Gaza." That's extreme, I know, but hey, do you remember the Holocaust? That was pretty extreme, and based on what I saw yesterday at Columbia University, that's what Ilhan Omar and her daughter, arrested in the vile NYC protest, have in mind.

Hell In New York City

Jew-hater.

The fat, ugly woman pictured above -- and yes she is fat and yes she is ugly -- is also an ignorant, Jew-hating racist. She was suspended from NYU for tearing down posters showing photos of Israeli hostages who are being held by the ruthless, sociopathic Hamas gangs in Gaza. Now she's "worried" that her suspension will threaten her two scholarships. (Duh.) 

She doesn't quite understand that if she committed a comparable act of aggression in Hamas territory, her arms would be chopped off and she would be raped so many times that her pelvic bones would shatter. Oh well, details, details.

Meanwhile, a few blocks away a group of similarly misguided student protesters defaced a subway station close to the NYU campus on a day the school was holding a fundraising event. (Photo shown below.)

Kids today, huh? In my generation, our parents were upset because the boys wore their hair long and smoked pot. These days the boys still have long hair, but they also shave off their Adam's apples and lop off their penises so they can be girls who wear makeup and high heels and win all the swim meets. And instead of smoking pot they take puberty blockers.

Surely Hell cannot be any worse than New York City circa 2024.

My Challenge to Katie Couric

Perky though she may be, or may have been in her younger days when she was paid to be, Katie Couric is no brainiac. Calling half of America a bunch of dummies on a recent podcast with Bill Maher makes her dumber than any dumb person I know, and believe me, I know a lot of them.

What I would like to do is challenge Katie to a crossword-off. Both of us get the Sunday Times Magazine crossword and start at the same time. I'd bet all my earthly belongings, my first-born and my Maine Coon cat that I would finish first and she wouldn't finish at all. Come on Katie, let's go!

“And the question is how are we going to really almost deprogram these people who have signed up for the cult of Trump.”  -- Katie Couric

Trump's Sham Trial

Bragg wondering what's for lunch.

What a joke! The desperate Democrats currently in office will do just about anything to keep Trump from winning the next election and send them all scurrying back into their mole holes to lick their wounds. So far all their efforts have failed, and like the T-1000 in The Matrix, Trump just keeps on coming on.

The latest farce is a baseless trial of a victimless "crime" being held in New York City, that simmering Democratic bastion, brought about by the vindictive DA Alvin Bragg, an overstuffed, baby-faced serpent who has always hated Trump and vowed to "get him" from the get-go. Trust me, amid the throngs of paid gossip hounds, network wannabes, protesters, onlookers and paparazzi, Lady Justice is nowhere to be found.

The funniest part thus far has been the process of selecting the jurors. To be chosen by Bragg's team you have to be a practicing member of the Democratic hive mind, hopefully a POC and under the age of 30. Yeah, that sounds pretty fair, doesn't it? 

If there is a Democrat alive who cannot see this sham production for what it is -- the fear of a Trump victory in November -- I pity them for their lack of self-will, their missing backbone and of course their blatant, overriding stupidity. 

What, Me A Sex Object?

Hannah and her body, for all to see.

Being a big fan of the TV series Ted Lasso, it was always tough to choose my favorite character, but I usually landed on Ted's boss Rebecca, played by the beautiful British actress Hannah Waddingham. In the show she's funny, smart, sweet and gorgeous. The only sour note, for me, was how they played up her voluptuous body by dressing her in very tight cleavage-revealing dresses, turning her into a sexy dumb blonde despite her considerable intelligence. 

Still, she can't help it if she looks like Marilyn Monroe, can she? And anyway, those were Rebecca's costumes in the show, not Hannah's own wardrobe.

But apparently in real life Ms. Waddingham also likes to display her considerable corporeal assets. Recently at an awards ceremony, she was draped in what looked like a glittery, sheer bedspread, allowing onlookers to see exactly what she's got: big breasts, an assertive tummy, a sizable butt and some fairly chunky thighs. Okay Hannah, we see you -- in all your Rubenesque glory!

Nevertheless, when a male photographer yelled out, "Show us some leg," she was visibly annoyed and, oddly enough, reported feeling disrespected. "You'd never say that to a man," she replied, adding that he should, "learn some manners" and flipping him the bird as she walked away.

I would like to point out to Hannah that men don't dress that way, unless they are drag queens. And if her goal is to be treated with respect, she might have opted for a less revealing outfit. Honestly, wasn't she asking for it?

 

 

I'm Big in Hong Kong

Rainy day in Hong Kong

I have never been to Hong Kong, nor have I ever wanted to go. It seems very crowded, at least from all the photos I've seen. And several years ago in NYC during the Christmas season when the streets were clogged with revelers and one could hardly take a step, I overheard a woman say, "This is just like being in Hong Kong." That was enough for me.

Yet, according to the statistical data associated with this blog, most of my readers are in Hong Kong. They number in the thousands, whereas here in America there are a paltry few hundred. So who knows, maybe I'd be a big hit in Hong Kong and make lots of money and get lots of comments on my blog, maybe even be an influencer, whatever that is but they seem to make a lot of money just by going online, so I could stay home and avoid all those crowds on the streets.

"Hong Kong has only developed about 25% of its total land area, the other 75% is largely untouched. It is not surprising that the territory is so overcrowded when there are 7.4 million people cramped in 275 sq. km of land (25% of 1,100 sq.km)."

But the food. Who could eat Chinese food every day? (I know, Chinese people.) My old friend Maxine, who travelled there often when she was the press secretary for Walter Mondale, always packed a jar of peanut butter and a box of saltines because she didn't like the local cuisine.

So I might be stuck here in America, unless Joe and Kamala get re-elected. Then who knows, the crowds in Hong Kong might be worth it. I'd do anything to escape that horror.

Would You Rather Be Stabbed or Shot?

Everyone gets all worked up about our gun laws, especially after a mass shooting or close to an election. But yesterday in Australia, where "to legally possess a handgun, the owner must be licensed, and the gun must be registered; the owner must be a member of a recognized gun club, and the gun may be transported only between home, range, and the gunsmith's shop," a man killed six people in a busy Sydney shopping mall by stabbing them with a knife. Not a sword, mind you, but an "everyday"  knife.

If you are killed by a gun, most likely you will die immediately. But death by knife could take a whole lot longer, and be a whole lot bloodier. Personally I would rather die peacefully in my sleep, but if I'm going to be murdered it would seem like a quick gunshot into a vital organ is preferable to bleeding out slowly. But hey, that's just me.

So gun laws or no gun laws, would-be murderers find a way. Until we face the fact that mental illness is a much bigger problem than loose gun laws, random murders of innocent people by members of their own species, for no apparent reason other than insanity, misdirected anger and personal frustration, will continue unabated.

Tik Tokking Your Life Away

Life is precious, surely most people would agree. But not all people, I'm thinking. Like the woman who recorded and then posted a video of her German Shepherd dog barking every time she says the word "ooga," which everyone but this lady knows is not a word at all. Big deal. Yet there it is, on Tik Tok, and so far the video has had 100.8K views, and many, many comments.

The poor frustrated dog is probably trying to tell her that she's a dummy, that it's not a word and she should just stop saying it and go get some schooling. Or feed him, or do the dishes, make the bed, do something -- in fact anything else. 

Tick, tick, tick, tick, Tik Tok.....the sound of time passing. 

Beware of Meal Kits!

😝😝😝😝😝😝😝😝😝😝😝😝😝😝😝😝😝

A good friend of our family got severe food poisoning from a meal kit that arrived three days after she ordered it. She was in the hospital for A WEEK! She missed five days of work and now has lots of medical bills, and all they did was refund her $25 for the meal kit! That is shameful and enough for me to NEVER use that service, Cookunity Meal Delivery, or any like it. Nobody should! 

Thanks to DEI, You Can Be Stupid and Smart At the Same Time.

Is that your final answer, Sonny?

"Earlier this week a TV talk show host -- admittedly a low bar -- proved unequivocally that she's no Albert Einstein. Sunny Hostin, one of the five lizard-brains on "The View," said that the recent total solar eclipse (which occurs every 18 months somewhere and has since the beginning of our ability to know such things) was further "evidence of climate change," the second-favorite scapegoat of liberals after the killing of babies for all of the world's ills. Sunny also expounded on the emergence of cicadas due this spring as further proof, saying, "they haven't come out in 100 years!"

First of all, yes they have. They emerge every 17 years, somewhere. And secondly, oh my fucking God. So just how dumb is she? She is so dumb, she also thinks that earthquakes are caused by climate change.

But wait, there's more. Shockingly, besides being a talking head and author of several books, which actually got published, unlike the two I wrote that are funny and smart like me, she is a lawyer! And even worse, the Senior Legal Correspondent and Analyst for ABC News!

It can't be, you say? As Elaine famously said on "Seinfeld," "Oh, it be." 

But how can someone be so stupid and so smart at the same time? Just a guess, but Ms. Hostin is the daughter of a Puerto Rican mother and a black father. That certainly explains how she got into, and then graduated from, law school. The rest is DEI history.

The Fluidity of Friendship

Earlier today a former high school friend of mine who has, in the ensuing 60 years, lived a very bizarre life quite foreign to mine and with whom I disagree politically, churlishly wrote to me on the Facebook page of a mutual friend, also from our high school, "We're not in high school anymore." 

No kidding! I will turn 78 in two months. I am very well aware that I am not in high school. Or college. Or med school, law school, or any school. (But hey Bette -- thanks for the tip.) When I was young, any warm body qualified as a friend. This particular person made the cut because she lived on my route to our school, almost a mile away, and so we could walk there together. Ta-da, we're friends!

Over these many long years, my friendship requirements often changed. There was a time when you became my friend if you liked anchovy pizza; those people were rare and truly valued. Then came the days when the parents of any child my son liked and played with regularly became family close friends (and baby-sitters). When the kids broke up, so did we.

At the present time I have far fewer friends as my requirements have tightened up considerably. I require the person to have a sense of humor, be respectful to animals, give freely to charity, show compassion, have strong morals and be in full possession of an intact, functioning brain that is capable of independent thought. 

I know, I ask too much.

How to Fundamentally Change America

When I woke up this morning and went downstairs for some coffee, I found my husband in a tizzy. Yes, you heard me, in a tizzy. (Look it up.) His Apple iPhone was not working at all. This is the same as me saying any of the following: His heart had stopped, his lungs had collapsed, he was having a stroke or his brain had shut down.

Apparently after updating to the latest required Apple update overnight (iOS 17.4.1), his phone had totally crashed. Froze. Broke. Taking Mitch's peace of mind and ability to reason with it. "I can't even tell what time it is," he bemoaned. This despite the existence of two clocks in the kitchen, one in the living room, and four upstairs not counting my watch and my phone, which I had not yet updated.

Googling the situation I found that the same thing was happening to everyone whose phone had been updated. As one user wrote on an online help forum, "Now my phone is complete garbage." 

I can only imagine the chaos on Wall Street! Is it a cyber attack? Is it the Russians? Hamas? The Democrats? Who would do this? Anyone hoping to fundamentally change America. Barack, is that you?  

The Case Against Evolution

 

Plank, Shmank -- Everyone Is Special

Okay, but what else can she do?

Big news: Recently a 58-year-old Canadian woman broke the world record for the longest plank, holding it for four hours, 30 minutes and 11 seconds. What I want to know is why holding your body up with only your toes and elbows touching the ground is something to be celebrated? 

Poor humans. We all seek to be special in some way, as if coming from the union of a sperm and an egg, living inside the body of another person for nine months, and then suddenly bursting out with all the body parts necessary to sustain life isn't enough? 

I consider my very existence an accomplishment. Plank, shmank -- just breathing in and breathing out, all day, every day, for 28,105 days so far -- is enough for me to consider myself special.

Solar Eclipse/Melva's Birthday

Today was the day of the big solar eclipse we've been hearing about for several weeks now. Here in Maine, several towns were said to lie directly in the Path of Totality, meaning the sun would be 100% covered by the moon passing in front of it. But those towns were hours away from where I live, and here in Freeport we would experience 97% coverage. That seemed like it would be good enough for me.

It wasn't. 

I went outside, waiting for darkness to fall. 

It didn't. 

I looked through my certified eclipse glasses (see photo) and saw the sun getting covered by the moon, but when I took the glasses off and looked around, everything looked normal. The birds did not start chirping and flapping their wings. The chipmunks and squirrels did not get weird. The air did not get cooler, nor did the wind pick up. My cat, lying in the sun, noticed nothing and seemingly could not care less. In my opinion, hurricanes are much more exciting. So if you missed it don't feel bad, because you didn't miss much. 

Elsewhere, my husband and son reported that the total darkness they experienced, suddenly and in the middle of the day, was "awesome" and "pretty cool," eliciting cheers from the assembled throngs. So I went into a closet for a minute to see how it must have felt. It was just okay. 

A much bigger deal is that today is my friend Melva's birthday. Happy Birthday, Mel!

Enough With the Holocaust Already!

Forced out of their homes, they don't look too lucky to me.

Growing up in a Jewish family not long after WW2 ended, I heard more than my fair share of stories about the Holocaust. All too often it was the topic of conversation around the dinner table. I learned that Germans were bad and thus anything German was also bad. My best friend's German Shepherd dog was not allowed in our house. And when my father's rage eventually softened and he bought a VW bug 20 years after the war had ended, my mother threatened divorce and flatly refused to ride in it.

In school we read "The Diary of Anne Frank." Then the movies started showing up: Sophie's Choice. Shoah. The Pianist. Life is Beautiful. Schindler's List. Inglorious Basterds. The Boy in the Striped Pajamas. Woman In Gold. The Zookeeper's Wife. 1945. The Zone of Interest. To name but a fraction.

Okay, we get it -- six million Jews (and others) were killed by the cold-blooded, murderous, heartless, repugnant, evil, sociopathic Nazis. It's 2024, can we move on yet? Apparently not, since a brand new darling of episodic television has appeared, causing a stir. "We Were the Lucky Ones" is now streaming on Hulu. Naturally my husband and I wanted to check it out, especially with the recent rise in antisemitism sweeping the globe since the start of Israel's war with Hamas.

Season 1 starts out sweetly, a year before the war broke out. An affluent Jewish family living in Poland celebrates Passover. There are photogenic young stars who make it all palatable. The photography is dark,  moody and compelling. The costumes and sets are spot-on, evoking the past with razor-sharp precision. But hey, haven't I heard this story before? In fact, who hasn't? 

Last night's episode featured a group of hapless Jews thinking they were on their way to freedom until their truck convoy went off the road and suddenly they were in the middle of nowhere and forced to dig their own graves in front of a firing squad of sadistic Nazis. Of course all they were told was to "start digging," but anyone who knows anything about history knew what they were doing, so no surprise there.

In fact, no surprises anywhere. Jews being shot for no reason in the streets. Nazis ransacking people's homes. Ordinary German citizens spitting at Jews and beating them with clubs and bricks. Jews forced to live in ghettoes. The gold armbands. Work camps. Pogroms. Call me psychic, but I am willing to bet my entire life savings and my house and car that soon enough all the Jews will be carted off to concentration camps on trains and then gassed in group showers.

I say enough already with the Holocaust! After sniffling my way through Episode 4 of "We Were the Lucky Ones," I think I'm done with this series and may have to watch all of "Curb Your Enthusiasm" from the beginning to recover.

Words With Friends Is Nuts

When my mother died of early onset Alzheimer's at the age of 62, one of her doctors told me I should play word games like Scrabble and daily crossword puzzles as they would help stave off the deadly disease. I followed his advice and still do to this day, even though I am now too old to get early onset anything. One of the simplest to play is Words With Friends, since I can do it anywhere and on my phone. Usually I play with living, breathing humans, a.k.a. friends, but sometimes I play with the game's robots.

I have long known that WWF is sort of moronic, since many words that are acceptable I have never heard before. When I check the game's own dictionary for their meaning, it frequently says, "This is a valid word but we have no definition at this time." Pretty crazy, huh? At that point I look it up in a conventional dictionary and find out it means something like, "a thorny shrub that grows on the eastern edge of Adalar, an island off the coast of Istanbul," or "an obsolete coin used for trading by African bushmen in the 13th century."

But this latest incident made me know for sure that not only is the game run by robots, but they are dumb robots, certainly not of the high caliber as those working at the Tesla factory. The following two screen shots illustrate this point:

Bot plays EJIDOS for 18 points.

Dictionary says EJIDOS not valid.

The same thing happened when playing with a friend, with the word PEDO. The game took it but the dictionary said it was not a valid word. Go figure. I still play the game but have lost all respect for it, and for myself. But hey, I'm not demented yet.

The Path of Totally Uninterested

Normal people looking at the eclipse.

Maybe my parents dropped me on my head when I was a baby. Of course I remember no such event, but it might explain why I am not like most people. For example, Maine lies in what is called  "The Path of Totality" for next Monday's total eclipse of the sun, and everyone who is sane is buying eclipse glasses and filling up their gas tanks in preparation for the supposedly life-changing event that happens so rarely and you damn well better see it if you know what's good for you!

My husband is going to drive three hours, more likely four, to get to a prime spot in the Path (of Totality) for viewing. The actual cosmic event that will change people's lives will last three to four minutes. Then he will drive home, likely in much more traffic so let's say for four to five hours. Our adult son is going with him, and when they return they will be different people entirely! 

I'm excited to see how their lives will be changed by seeing the moon pass in front of the sun and have darkness descend for three-and-a-half minutes, then have daylight return. In fact, much more excited about that than the prospect of sitting in the back seat of a car for up to eight hours, having no place to go pee because of the expected crowds jamming into the little town of Jackman, or possibly blinding myself by looking too soon without my special eclipse glasses -- three for $23.

Honestly, I wish I wanted to go. But it all reminds me of the nightmare of being at Disney World and waiting on a line for an hour-and-45 minutes to experience a ride that lasted two minutes. That actually was life-changing: I vowed then and there to be my own person and only listen to my inner voice. (Voice, not voices.) And my inner voice says the only ways to change your life are to commit a crime, have a baby, move to another city, get a new job, get married, get divorced or lose a lot of weight. I have done all but the first, and I don't intend to do that one by freaking out in Jackman (pop. 782) when I have to go to the bathroom and all the Port-a-Potties are taken. (I have stomach issues.)