Occupation of Independence

  In seeing the hysterical piling-on of the western media, it is as if NATO, the American Empire, and the mainstream corporate media's were making their death screams.

  I have come to believe that anything is possible. Look at how a large fraction of the population is being pulled into anti-Russian hysteria by politicians, the War Industries, and their stenographers in the mass media. But let's back up a step from today's crisis, the war in Ukraine. The recent behavior of the Ottawa government was frightening, particularly because it set a precedent for more frequent and more totalitarian controls based on pseudo-emergencies. The trucker protests showed that the Covid era has left the peasant masses angry and fed-up. If the peasants can push back in Canada, they can push back anywhere. This must be disturbing to the global Elites. They are just getting started.  Now that a dress rehearsal has been completed in Canada successfully, they would like to move on. But they would be wise to pause and regroup. That is where the anti-Russian and anti-Putin hysteria comes in. It allows the peasant masses to blow off steam in an orgy of anger, which is

Few people know less about raising children than an old bachelor. Still, I like trying to imagine it, sometimes. It wouldn't surprise me if, even in this corrupt and debauched age of ours, there are idealistic parents who try to interest their children in free activities not based on buying some piece of crap -- probably with lots of plastic, electronics, and batteries.  When playing with a friend's dog and my new miniature poodle, Q.T.𝞹, I actually had to stretch my imagination to improvise with something to throw them. It is in our DNA to run to the store and buy some overpriced toy, which is normally designed for the human customer's eyeballs, rather than the dog's teeth and nose. Still, the store-bought toys can be well-designed at times. Like most dogs, these dogs like marrow bones, both to chew and to chase. But none was handy. Nor were there any rubber or plastic balls. So I picked up sticks to hurl for them. They loved the sticks, both to chase and to chew. It

If I've said it once I've said it a thousand times: there is nothing better in this old world of ours than a freshly laundered poodle. The new dog got her first shower. Then I combed her out. Here was the entire harvest, deposited in the brush. This is orders of magnitude smaller than what would come from a regular dog with a double coat. How can other breeds compete against this? I am surprised that most dog breeds don't go out of business. Perhaps a small number of people need one of those breeds to perform some special task, but who needs those breeds as mainstream pets? The name-game is still going on. I am tempted to name the new dog, a creme miniature poodle (female), Q.T. Pie, or rather Q.T.𝞹  . In the mean time I got a kick out of a horse coming close to me on a mountain bike ride:  

  There is something to be said about taking an older dog out for a walk: you tend to go slow, you saunter. At the right place and time, this helps you think. I felt a need for such a saunter recently, at a tourist attraction in southeastern AZ. It was a playa lake that draws hordes of tourists to look at sandhill cranes. The internet reviews kept using words like 'amazing' or 'awesome' to describe the visual spectacle and the sheer number of silly birds, as if it matters where you stick the decimal point on an outdoor experience. Long-suffering readers of this blog know that I was rolling my eyes at those reviews. Walking through the crowded parking lot as sunset approached, I could hear generators running and beeping security alarms on cars. But that might be good news, because it could mean fewer people in my way. We walked toward the main area of concentration at the edge of the shallow playa lake. People seemed to be walking away from it, perhaps because of the eve