Saturday 1/8/22
* I saw where the Pope said you suck if you have pets instead of children. What an out of touch individual. Many, many, many fewer people should have children than the number of people having children. Look what people do to their kids. So many kids never have a chance.
* The story about the little girl from New Hampshire--Harmony--is heartbreaking. That child never had a chance in this world, and so many people--not just those monsters who were her parents--let her down. A poor, defenseless innocent, with no chance, no one to protect her. You're telling me it wouldn't have been better if those two vile adults had a cat instead? There are too many morons and evil people in the world. The world would be better with less morons and evil people, and more children would have a chance to grow up to be healthy, smart, whole adults with parents who were better parents and could give and teach them what a child needs and deserves.
* My niece Lilah sent me a card! I haven't opened it yet. Was carrying in a bunch of bags of fruit and vegetables from Haymarket.
* Ran 3000 stairs. Was a little cold, but I've adjusted to twenty degrees. Next week there will be some days substantially colder and we'll see how it goes then.
* My stretching is going well after just a few days. I'm getting some flexibility back. I stretch by doing lunges against the wall, then I stretch on the stairs, then I sit on the ground and stretch with my legs spread and also in front of me.
* I have been adding on to the British rhythm and blues proposal. I think that's everything now. I still need to go over it again, though.
* Came up with an idea for a piece on the Grateful Dead.
* Did some nice work on "Daughter Bear," which is very strong. It's about 2300 words right now. I'll let it sit for the rest of today.
* Have to pull for the Broncos to beat the Chiefs today, but I do not see it happening. If all of these wacky things happen, the Patriots can get the #1 seed, but probably none of them will happen, or maybe just one (the Bengals might lose, I guess, with Burrow out; and the Jets tend to play a little better when they're playing out the string, for some reason).
* Anything can happen, but it's hard to envision Georgia beating Alabama on Monday. You don't even really expect it to be that close, do you?
* Watching more of those early episodes of Doctor Who. I love those Daleks! Great tenacity, focus, attitude, commitment, and cool voices!
* Twitter reveals that many adults are as immature as they were at fourteen. Writing always reveals. The person you are always comes out in how you write. A fourteen-year-old is undeveloped, laughs at sophomoric humor, is crude, childish. I really don't think most adults ever grow up at all. They are that fourteen-year-old until death. The world has changed to accommodate them because the world can't leave everyone behind. Ironically, the people who get left behind now are the few people who are intelligent and who do grow. They are the ones that have to fight more than anyone else. But what I see on Twitter, from adults, is the same idiotic humor, the same idiotic reactions, the same teenage childishness I saw from dumb kids in eighth grade. Same thing. And they think the same kind of things are funny and smart. A society of absolute fucking yokels.
* Speaking of which: I've mentioned that I am a member of various groups that would seem quite specialist, and maybe people would know some things, but, again, there are only drooling adults who might as well be fourteen. One of those groups is a baseball literature group. There are only morons in the group. They just happen to have some baseball books. But they talk about them the way a caveman would, though the caveman would be more sophisticated, I think. As I noted here, I recently reread Sparky Lyle's The Bronx Zoo. it's one of the best sports books I've ever read. Lyle has some Moliere to him. It's sharply observed, and one can learn about more than baseball from the book, which takes the form of a diary of the 1978 season. For instance, it's useful to me, with this book I want to do about the psychology of comebacks, as you really see how the Yankees needed to think in order to catch the Red Sox that year. You can extrapolate that mode of thinking to how you live your life. Further, Lyle shows what makes a ballplayer especially value in ways that go beyond numbers, and our current obsession with advanced stats. I know all of the advanced stats, how they work, what they show, and what they mean for era to era comparison. I know them off-hand, by heart, as my radio interviews bear out. Reading that book, I can appreciate Graig Nettles more, beyond any numbers. Lyle clearly thinks he's the best player on those teams, and you start to see why he thinks that and why Nettles was that. He says things about the game of baseball that will change how you watch baseball. He's quick-witted, the book has a rhythm in the prose. It's sharp, funny, has humor that will stay with you. It was being discussed in this Facebook group. No one liked it. No one understood it. Everyone thought it was boring. Why? Not enough fart jokes. I'm serious. This is how people are: fucking stupid. You give them things that are fucking stupid, and they'll like that. Really. They're not more sophisticated than a child who can be amused by dangling keys in front of its face. Not one of these people got this book at all. And a bunch were older, so it wasn't this Millennial thing. They complained that it wasn't Ball Four. Do you know why people like Ball Four? There's only one real reason: the potty humor. That's it. Shitfuck and fuckshit, and dick jokes, and beaver shooting. It's what you like when you're fourteen. Again. But hardly anyone progresses beyond their fourteen-year-old self. Isn't that amazing? A whole society of stunted adults, who are really barely teenagers. And then society covers for you, because it has to. It adapts to the masses. The more intelligent something is--even when it's highly entertaining; that is, the entertainment is in there, embedded in it--the more it will be ripped, often. I don't know what to do in a world like this. I have to figure it out.
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