CSotD: According to somebody else’s research …
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Pickles (AMS) offers a lovely example of tightrope walking, with a gag that its audience will get, even if they aren’t all that computer literate, but with a wink as well to any cyberly-literate types.
“According to my research” is a key phrase for identifying crap thrown together by Artificial Intelligence, the confirming step being to see if what follows “according to my research” is just whatever flabby, sterile gobbledygook the AI critter decided to make up or steal.
Anyway, today’s posting is being put together by means of Real Old-Fashioned Intelligence. I was going to add “Organic,” but that ship has long since sailed.
Corrections and Clarifications Dept
According to my research, Scopes has not only declared that rumors Trump skips his kids’ graduations are false, but provided far more facts than anyone needs to prove the point. I regret the error of not questioning something that seemed to fit so well, because that’s exactly how such things proliferate.
Snopes is deeply hated by MAGAts who claim it just spreads liberal lies, which might create a dilemma, but they can preserve their consistency by saying it was “so obviously false that even Snopes can’t deny it.”
Anyway, he showed up.
I don’t know if there is a TSA size limit on belt buckles, as suggested in this Rhymes With Orange (KFS), but I’d be willing to bet that, if they established one, it would be one more rule ignored by the folks who, told they can have one personal item and a carry-on that fits the little rack, promptly haul aboard a steamer trunk, a 20 gallon purse and three overflowing shopping bags.
But I need to attach a clarification here that is only marginally connected to the cartoon, which made me laugh: It is being said that belt buckles are taxed in Texas, with the implication that it is done by size.
According to my research, it’s an odd gap in their annual sales tax holiday: Clothing, including belts, is not taxed that weekend, so you can buy a belt with a buckle the size of Achilles’ shield without paying tax.
But if you buy the buckle separately, it is an accessory, and those aren’t included in the tax holiday. You pay by price, of course, not size.
And please remember when we reach our destination to loosen your belt buckle carefully, as contents may settle in flight.
And while we seem to be in Public Service Announcement mode, here’s a safe driving tip from the Buckets (AMS):
It’s lovely to have spring finally arriving, but bear in mind that, now that you’re driving around with your windows open, your running commentary on other drivers is audible to them.
And don’t forget that Oedipus’s nickname stemmed in part from a road rage incident. Perhaps you should shout something else.
I haven’t been fishing in years, but I think about it as I walk by the Connecticut in the morning. OTOH, I may be in league with The Other Coast (Creators) when it comes to catch-and-release.
I’ll grant that the old rule of not hunting anything you don’t intend to eat seems outdated, going back to a time when not many city folk came to kill something and go home, though the tradition of being paid to guide city folk to some place where they can catch a trout or shoot a deer is also old and established.
We had one place on the lake where the city folk rarely left the poker game when they came up. Locals would sell them large frozen trout to take home and claim as their own.
There’s also lots of legitimate catch-and-release, though, and so I picture a whole lot of fish with ripped up scars in their lips and perhaps a piscine-sized case of PTSD.
But always look on the bright side of life: The loons have figured out that, after a fisherman gets done landing a nice big trout, he’ll let the exhausted fish go, at which point it becomes easy pickings.
Loons have begun following fishermen to capitalize on the situation and they’re becoming aggressive enough to take the fish off the line before it’s been landed and released.
That’s not “according to my research.” That’s according to the Maine Division of Fisheries and Wildlife, and several fishermen I’ve talked to.
The loons deny everything.
La Cucaracha (AMS) performs a sort of clarification of its own, disputing reports that a higher minimum wage will force fast-food places to raise their prices. It might, of course, but all sorts of other things go into a price increase.
For instance, the cost of coffee might go up, and Barriobucks would have to pass that increase along to customers. That increase, however, wouldn’t add a peso to the paychecks of the people back in Central America who grow the beans.
At least raising the minimum wage puts some of the money in workers’ hands rather than it all going to stock buybacks and executive bonuses.
Juxtaposition of the Day
A salute to solitude on two levels.
I’m conflicted on the concept of “introverts,” not because I think they don’t exist but because I wonder how many people introverted enough that it matters would speak up and say so.
The one-woman play, “The Belle of Amherst,” featured Emily Dickinson, which was a puzzlement. I always felt the curtains should open on an empty stage and that would be it. Maybe the stage manager would come out after half an hour or so and ask everyone to leave.
Anyway, if you identify as an introvert, you can skip parties and other gatherings, but realize that we’re all introverted to some extent.
The extroverts just work harder to hide it.
For my part, I skip crowds and spend time in the woods with my dog and often a friend or two and their dogs.
It’s a nice source of solitude, but it took plenty of wandering around to find a stretch of public forest whose quiet isn’t constantly being interrupted by mountain bikes and runners.
They have their trails and we have ours. It’s a relatively civilized system.
If I wanted to walk amidst the merry throngs of the Esplanade, I’d move to Boston.
But I ain’t that extroverted.
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