For a short while a couple of days ago it seemed that it might — just might — be possible for a person of conscience to vote for Donald Trump. But then . . .
Over the weekend I happened upon an online conversation about a small and specialized computer program, and was surprised to find something vanishingly rare in internet discourse: good sense.
The campaign to re-elect Bugout Joe Biden may, upon retrospection, conclude that it was a false economy to recruit as Biden’s makeup technician for last week’s debate a student from a mortuary college.
My driver license was up for renewal soon, so a couple of weeks ago I thought it would be a good idea to have my eyes examined. In retrospection maybe I should have had my head examined first.
Our media are covering this only slightly when at all. They are focusing on the astonishing discoveries that it gets hot in the summer, that Donald Trump is a jerk, and that the years have not been kind to already dimwitted and dishonest Joe Biden. The lesson? When it comes to our health, we’re on our own.
Things should be fixable and we’re obligated to know how to fix them. Not everything, perhaps, but small gas engines and many small electrical devices, absolutely. Replacing washers in faucets, entire toilets or parts thereof, an electrical outlet. These are among the things we should know how to do before we own any of them. Sharpening knives, lawnmower blades and scissors. Changing a tire. Basic skills.
With every new disclosure we learn of some new falsehood told us about the creation, effects, and supposed control of the SARS-CoV-2 virus, the COVID-19 disease it causes, and the stuff that was marketed as a “vaccines.”
Those of us who have watched what currently passes for news know in absurd detail all we could ever hope to know about the trial of a former president for the lone financial offense of which he is arguably not guilty. What we don’t know about, because it has received practically no coverage, is 7 million cases of apparent homicide. Could be murder, could be manslaughter. We don’t know, and our media are not interested in finding out.
As part of my privacy-oriented DIY “smart” television project I had looked at applications that consolidate the many live streams from television stations around the world into some kind of useful form. I accidentally heard about and was drawn to something by the (kind of poor, I think) name of IPTVnator. And it works.
In 1974 my friend and mentor Sylvia Porter, the financial columnist, was summoned to Washington by the president, Gerald Ford. She had been asked to head a government effort to reduce inflation, which as a result of the 1973 Arab oil crisis had risen to 12.3 percent. When she got there, she was dismayed. The program consisted of red campaign buttons bearing the message “WIN.” Ford said the letters stood for “Whip Inflation Now.”