THE LORD TOLD ME,

devil-29973__340 copysayeth the American (where else?) televangelist “I needed a fourth jet.”

I’d give you the source of the news article that jangled the cash in my pockets but it’s a print article in a recent NZ newspaper. Don’t fret, just google the headline as it appeared—

“The Lord told me I needed a fourth jet, televangelist insists”

—and you too may find enlightenment. But wait, read now and it gets even better (just be careful what you read about)—

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—and it gets even better when the nice, honest, sincere, God-fearing man further explai  justifies himself—

“Now people say . . . can’t you go with this one?” he said, pointing to a picture of the plane he uses. “Yes, but I can’t go it one-stop. And if I can do it one stop, I can fly it for a lot cheaper, because I have my own fuel farm. And that’s what’s been a blessing of the Lord.”

—don’t ask me. I have no idea what a ‘fuel farm’ is (but I guarantee they don’t come cheap*).

Bugbear big

“Hey, you! Yeah you, Bub! Yer name Argus?”

Oops …

Brrr. Moving on, perhaps you, too, could ask The Lord for one of these blessings—

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—and until ya try ya never knows ya luck.

Sufficient unto the day is the televangelising thereof so I’ll leave you with this thought—

click here right copy             Dodo

 

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WHEN I WAS

BUT A MERE PUP

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‘Valentine’s Day’ in New Zealand, wasn’t. Sure, we’d heard vaguely about the Yanks and how they ‘hearts & flowers’ and stuff all over the place—quaint, as many American customs undoubtedly are*, but not us.

TIMES CHANGE

and from this morning’s New Zealand Herald, this—

Valentine’s Day is a multi-billion dollar global industry driven by obligatory buying.

The US spent more than $24 billion on the annual day of love last year, while spending in the UK is estimated to have been at around $1.9 billion.

In New Zealand, figures from Mastercard last year showed that Kiwi men expected to spend an average of $157 and women $103.

Research from AMP Capital Shopping Centres (AMPCSC) released this year suggests that higher spending among men might be because they feel greater pressure to impress their significant others.

—o tempora, o mores!

O poop …

But don’t knock it—it helps the wheels of commerce turn, and of course the gummint skims taxes off every chocolate, heart, and/or flower sold. Win-win all ’round, no?

Now … I dare say we should lay in a stock of bonfire wood for the fourth of July … and book a turkey for Thanksgiving, later. I’d Googleise the dates but even they are into it:

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—but you’d have to go there. I couldn’t copy/paste it as a functioning link. (Well worth the effort though, cute~!)

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Big G, bigger

“You pickin’ on my saints again, Dog? Tread carefully, Mutt!”

Brrrrr …

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*  And we’ve also imported Halloween. When I was a kid ‘punkins’ were for cattle food, or occasionally for dinner …

ON TIME, IN

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“Time,” the Sage tells me morosely, “is the medium of change.” And he should know, time has certainly changed him. I remember when he was but a pup (as it were) and now I keep tripping over his blasted beard. Honestly, some wise men … (he knows his onions though).

I discovered a couple of hours ago that one of my all-time heroes passed away a few days back.

Just another nutter. No-one will miss him … he’s the guy who had an idea, got it checked out by a fully credentialed geologist who apparently was unanimously backed up by an entire conference (which alone should have wiped the smirk of the face of a few other experts) but I won’t tell if you don’t—

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—and nothing is more predictable than the reaction of the experts to some of the stuff put forward by the late Mr J. A.West.

NOT THAT IT MATTERS

a damn anyway. I mean, who gives a hoot if the great Sphinx of Giza is a few thousand more years (ten, anybody?) older than we were taught pounded with at school? So?

SO MOVING ON

take a wee look at the NY World’s Fair of 1964. Sadly I’ve long since lost the 8mm movies and snaps I shot at the time but thanks to the miracle of modern science I pulled these in off the WWW—

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(Oh, wow~!)

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Vitality, anybody? Pizazz?

Hah! You should have seen the wee robots wandering about telling everyone the time …

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I REMEMBER IT

as being America at its best. Vital, optimistic, unashamedly brash, and very talented without fear of showing so. Superlatives abounded—

—and when Spouse and I went back recently, in time for the Millennium, our host drove me out to the site.

It was a bit further away than expected.

We got there pretty much at sunset; daylight fading almost as fast as memories. We were the only souls abroad, no sign of nobody nowhere—which suited my mood perfectly.

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Time has certainly done his work here. There. Everywhere …

Bastard …

… but that’s just the way of it. Without the use of maths and/or science (okay, possibly just a little) I’ve developed my own ideas on time and space which I shan’t spout here lest alarmed people track me down and send hordes of nice men in white coats around to my house.

But at least I have the comfort of knowing that one John Anthony West (deceased) might have approved …

*         *         *

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dodododo               dodo

NOSTALGIC

pcFOR FORGOTTEN

values, dreams, motivators … notions? Aaah, as Khayyam says ‘take the cash in hand, and waive the rest … oh, the brave music of a distant drum!’

Fret not, cast yer eyes over this, then—

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—look upon my works, ye mighty, and weep ...

So?

So I have a suggestion intended to appeal to the blessed Snowflakes, Socialists, Communists and sporting among us.

How about—

  • it be guaranteed (by respected audit) that NO state monies of any kind be used in funding any entries in the America’s Cup
  • that three (3) identical-in-every-respect duplicates of the original winner (that gave its name to the race) be made
  • that otherwise it be ‘bunfight as normal’ in eliminations until the final two teams are ready to slug it out
  • and when they do: they each use one of the replicas; their replica for the day being chosen by toss of a coin for each day …

So?

So this would ensure that it’s seamanship (think: ability) against seamanship; not a case of “our financiers can beat your bankers” and/or “our eggheads can beat your eggheads”.

  • Otherwise the sailors on the water remain no more than pawns the bankers etc use to pursue their own glories; and
  • otherwise the breaking of records is quite meaningless: can a state-of-the-art modern jet fighter not out speed an FE2?

(So what if the ‘record’ time over the distance is ‘beaten’?)

 

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SOMETIMES

IT MAKES SENSE

 

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and I’m left scratching. All over …

“…The film also details the story of Lamarr as an inventor. “She came up with a secure communication system that was really about helping the Allies beat the Nazis in the Atlantic,” Dean said. “Wireless torpedoes were being blown up by Nazi ‘wolfpacks.’”

Lamarr worked to create a system called “frequency hopping” in which torpedoes would “hop” between frequencies to avoid detection …”

source:  CLICK HERE 

The ‘Lamarr’ referred to is of course Hedy, film star (boom boom~!) of a few years back. I had no idea that she was the slightest bit technical but there ya go. I also had no idea the wolfpacks could capture control of allied torpedoes so it’s learning curves all round.

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AND FOLLOWING

lines of thought triggered by the above ref’d article, I came upon this gem—

The Kriegsmarine and Royal Navy promptly identified and eliminated the problems. In the United States Navy, there was an extended wrangle over the problems plaguing the Mark 14 torpedo (and its Mark 6 exploder). Cursory trials had allowed bad designs to enter service. Both the Navy Bureau of Ordnance and the United States Congress were too busy protecting their own interests to correct the errors, and fully functioning torpedoes only became available to the USN twenty-one months into the Pacific War.[33]

source:  CLICK HERE 

—forcing once again this plaintive bleat: that in times of active unpleasantness the guys responsible for the procurement of vital equipments must be made to accompany them into the field:

Their invention was granted a patent … and at that time the U.S. Navy was not receptive to considering inventions coming from outside the military.[22] Only in 1962  … did an updated version of their design appear on Navy ships.[29]

Think of Self Interest as a wee bit of essential Quality Assurance if you like—there’s nothing quite like it for real motivation.

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WHAT THE HELL

51IAARrpjwL._SX355_DOES THIS

(below) actually mean? This is the standard of definitive news reporting, in the English language, in New Zealand today:

“Over the past three decades alone, the Navy’s fleet has shrunk from almost 600 ships to 308 today. It included nearly 1200 aircraft and more than 130,000 sailors and civilians.”

And then—

“While the US Navy’s operations overseas are growing considerably, it has been forced to navigate through some serious accidents while showing brute force to its enemies.”

—which is brilliantly ‘poetic’ and ‘clever’ … but is it accurate? (Clue: does the US’s navy actually have any enemies?)

“Mr Argus, Sir~”

Oh no …

“Yes, Little Ollivia?”

“Are you nit-picking again, Sir?”

“Wars have been started through miscommunications, Missy. No.”

But don’t fret. The laws for The Draft are, I understand, still in place although in abeyance and in The Land Of The Free they can be invoked with a stroke of a pen at any time.

There, problem solved. And if the gobs are disgruntled—

“Mr Argus, Sir~”

“Yes, Little Ollivia?”

… … … I don’t like you, Sir …”

“I don’t like meself sometimes, Kiddo …”

 

Jolly chappies

“Don’t listen to ’em, Don … ya doin’ just great!”

—shackle the ungrateful little snowflakes to their oars~! Bring back the cat, I say! Keelhaul the bastards! Or even better … set up a few Commissions of Enquiry.

There.

Problem solved. (If it actually is a problem, and not just some disgusting little oik reporter out to make a name for herself.)

 

The above quotes from:  CLICK HERE

 

dodo

 

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Regardless, I for one am a bit impressed …