Not much news today
Sometimes I wonder what makes me pick a topic to write about.
Some days there’s a story du jour that cries out for treatment, even if only to provide a forum for commenters to talk amongst themselves about it. Sometimes there’s something that strikes a deep and resonant chord within me and makes me especially interested, whether or not anyone else in the MSM or blogosphere is paying attention. Sometimes I’m looking for comic relief, distraction, inspiration, comfort, you name it.
And sometimes all the stories seem remarkably redundant or stupid or irrelevant. A Politico reporter disses Mitt Romney in an especially egregious way? Bain Capital blabbity blabbity blah from the NY Times and the Obama campaign? Various polls that purport to mean something in terms of what will happen in November? Bluster and speculation about the pending SCOTUS decision on HCR when in truth no one has a clue what SCOTUS will rule?
News is often that way, but some days are worse than others. It’s a little early to say that the silly season has begun. But maybe it’s all the silly season now. Of course, I don’t really yearn for a big story, because they so often tend to be about disasters and calamities. I’ll take boredom over that.
When I was writing this post, a little earworm started in my head. It went like his, “No news today, my love has gone away…” I couldn’t place the lyric, but when I Googled it I discovered that I had gotten it quite wrong. It’s actually a song by Herman’s Hermits from the 60s, and it goes like this:
It strikes me that they certainly wouldn’t be able to get away with lines like “the company was gay” these days.
And it also makes me wonder whether milk delivery has gone the way of the dodo. It had been such a ubiquitous part of my youth (yours, too, probably, if you’re anything like a contemporary of mine or older). We had a little wooden box outside the side door, where the milkman would come and deliver his goodies—including the glass bottles of milk that had cream on the top, and a perfectly-fitting lid with a little tab that you pulled to open it. Of course, I hated milk even back then, but I loved that milkbox and it was often my job to go out there and get that bottle and bring it on in.
But enough milk delivery reminiscence. Let’s have some more musical reminiscence. This one actually is about the news rather than milk delivery—sort of, kind of, although it’s really about love and its comings and goings. But aren’t they all?
Forget it Jake, it’s Obamatown.
As for milk delivery, Seattle has some options:
http://www.smithbrothersfarms.com/
http://homemilkman.com/page_info.php?pages_id=1001
Plus Amazon Green
I’ve always thought Between the Buttons was a greatly under-rated Stones album, and Yesterday’s Papers is one of the reasons.
Growing up in the country, I was familiar with a different kind of milk delivery: a farmhand with a bucket of milk fresh from the cow out back. But this is not nostalgia, as I hated milk, too.
been trying to teach this for a while when people say that the other side is acting crazy, or how can anyone fall for that, etc.
i have said, that if thats the way you feel, then your not the target, so stop thinking they are stupid, and start thinking how it would work in the target.
it be like someone coming in and wanting to give you an antibiotic that would kill bacteria, and you say thats dumb. nothing would fall for that…. but the bacteria do!
Solved: Why email scammers say they’re from Nigeria
http://www.foxnews.com/scitech/2012/06/21/solved-why-email-scammers-say-theyre-from-nigeria/?intcmp=obnetwork
got it?
So… are they stupid or very smart and you just dont see what the real reason is?
ie. are you so used to putting down others to feel superior that you put down your enemy rather than respect them and try to figure out what they are doing when YOU don’t understand it?
when you do not respect your opponent, your not fighting them, your fighting your imagination
“If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.
If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat.
If you know neither the enemy nor yourself,
you will succumb in every battle”
― Sun Tzu, The Art of War, Special Edition
“The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.”
― Sun Tzu, The Art of War
“To know your Enemy, you must become your Enemy.”
― Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Now.. do you believe me that those large offensive churches are to keep others out that would watch to see waht is going on or might see?
ie. anyone who is there, either is in on the gig, or is a useful idiot… normal people would be so offended and would leave…
its a very old trick, but to Dodo’s that dont know how the predators work, well, the trick is lost.. and the Dodo is confused… and so there is no prevention of action, as it takes understanding and knowlege to meet the problem.
Hey, I still get my milk delivered from the farm in glass bottles to the cooler on my porch. Crescent Ridge Dairy delivers to the greater Boston area
Graham Gouldman, I submit, is one of the British Invasion’s most underrated songwriters. Besides “No Milk Today,” his second hit for the Hermits – “Listen People” was the first – he wrote “Bus Stop” (the Hollies), “For Your Love” and “Heart Full of Soul” (the Yardbirds), and eventually became 2.5 of 10cc.
>>> but when I Googled it I discovered that I had gotten it quite wrong.</i.
Not at all, you got it just right for a Mondegreen.
>>>> (yours, too, probably, if you’re anything like a contemporary of mine or older)
I think milk delivery disappeared a lot sooner in Florida, where things were a lot more spread out. I can’t even recall my grandparents getting it at any time in the 60s, and they had to have been the sort to be somewhat inclined to do so.
It was also a lot less necessary with modern refrigeration and the heat in the day in the south probably made it go bad sitting on the porch a lot quicker.
I do recall, however, milk VENDING MACHINES, which sold 1/2 gal milk in paper cartons through the late 60s into the early 70s…
I’m pretty sure he is saying the company was happy, not homosexual. The term wasn’t commonly used in that way until the 70’s or 80’s, especially in England.
Oops, make that “Former Marine’s Mom. Different laptop!
Seeing the Blocked Blonde Bomber, Brian Jones, peering through–heroin addled & about to be fired by the band–is a tad haunting and heart tugging.
I saw the boys perform ‘twixt my jr & sr years in college at the Hollywood Bowl–summer of ’66–on their Aftermath Tour. I was a Stones nut. Ran into Brian unexpectedly in the crowds at the June ’67 Monterrey Pop….Ahhh…that wuz sum goooooood stuuufff. (-:
I don’t think we had boxes, just bottles left on the porch. My mother got homogenized, but my grandmother got the cream on top. She would suck it off with a turkey baster and when she had enough, she put it in a mason jar with some marbles and shook it until she got butter. She must have had some powerful arms.
I live in an area where most of my neighbors are dairy cows, but nobody around here drinks their milk. They send it away and then buy milk at Wal-Mart.
That must have been around the same time I saw the Stones in Memphis–and Herman’s Hermits, too.
AMDG