Live and Let Live

A column of quotable quotes

Image by Syaibatul Hamdi from Pixabay

This is: A weekly column consisting of letters to my perspicacious progeny. I write letters to my grandkids and my great-grandkids — the Stickies — to advise them and haunt them after they've become grups and/or I'm deleted.

Warning: This column is rated SSC — Sexy Seasoned Citizens — A Perusal by kids, callowyutes, or grups may result in a debilitating intersectional triggering. Viewing with a tablet or a monitor is highly recommended for maximum enjoyment.  

About

Glossary 

Erratically Appearing Hallucinatory Guest Star: Dana — A Gentlereader  

"My conservatism is fairly avant-garde, and it is a kind of rebuke to conformity." -Roger Scruton

Dear (eventual) Grandstickies and Great-Grandstickies (and Gentlereaders),

I'm a collector of quotable quotes. I have a bunch of 'em recorded in a notebook that uses the dead trees format. Nowadays, I save 'em in a computer file. Live and let live is an oft-quoted ancient proverb that I wish all the kids on our modern playground would make a point of observing.

I hope the subtitle of this column will result in Readers Digest sending me a cease and desist letter since they've been running a feature of the same name in their magazine since before I was born.

{Wait-wait-wait. Why would you...}

With a bit of luck, and a well-written press release released on a slow news day, it might turn into my 15 minutes of fame.

Let's begin by pandering to my fellow Citizens of the Republic with a tasteful quote that any right-thinking person will agree with.

"The journey to spiritual awakening is better with french fries." -Bilquis

{Whoquis?}

Bilquis, an ancient goddess as portrayed by a very um, unusual (and now canceled) Starz network show titled American Gods. My fellow fans and I have been left holding the bag and there wasn't even a rushed, half-assed attempt to provide a conclusion of some sort.

{Are there temporarily delicious but now cold McDonald's fries that have morphed into plastic in that bag?}

"The American dream is the pursuit of happiness as each defines it." -I. Dunno

{I. Dunno? Who's that?}

A figment of my lame sense of humor; I can't find the source of the quote. It's from an article I read. I scribbled it down so I'd add it to my collection later but neglected to write down the name of the author.

Once upon a time, I was taught by Sister Mary McGillicuddy that the intention to live and let live was implied by our American experiment even though it has been imperfectly realized, to put it mildly.

"I want the playground to have minimum rules and maximum fun. I want just enough rules to give everyone an equal shot at some swing time and neutralize the bullies." -me

For example, I don't begrudge the Wokies the right to believe whatever they want. "...I will defend to the death, etc." -Voltaire.

However, if I were king, modern-day Piagnoni, followers of multiple modern-day Savonarola's, striving to remain in the good graces of the Intersectional Inquisition so they will have a place card designated, sustainably manufactured seat at the table waiting for them in Heaven Utopia,

And,

Who behave like members of the Westboro Baptist Church who've decided to become transnational Christian Jihadies...

Would have to undergo mandatory cult recovery therapy (yeah, it's a thing) to avoid having their voting privileges canceled. Also, Bonfires of the Vanities would be outlawed, even at mostly peaceful protests.

{Not everyone enjoys your obscure references.}

Merely established history. Follow the links for a free lesson. "...there is nothing new under the sun." -Ecclesiastes 1:9

"Where is all the knowledge we lost with information?" -T.S. Eliot

Mr. Eliot published the poem Choruses From the Rock in 1909. The quote above is from that poem. I don't...

{I had no idea you were a poetry aficionado.}

I'm not. However, I've been threatening to become more than an on-again/off-again dabbler since high school.

I don't know where or when I first encountered the line but I was immediately struck by the way it neatly and simply summed up one of the dilemmas of the Dizzinformation Age although it was written at the beginning of the previous century.

Too much information can easily lead to too little knowledge... and fresh ways and means to con, manipulate, and exploit Joe and Joan Bagadonuts for fun and profit.

I have it on good authority that Eliot was referring to spiritual knowledge, that he was referring specifically to the state of Christianity in his day, but it works in a somewhat different and modern context. I wouldn't describe myself as a Christian, but I wouldn't persecute...

{I see what you did there.}

I wouldn't persecute a Christian baker that takes his faith seriously if he refused to create a cake masterpiece for my — I self-identify as an African-American lesbian (traditional) woman who could pass for Hale Berry's more attractive sister — coming out party. I'd just find another master baker and skip tossing a casual contempt grenade through the door of his bakery.

Live and let live. Sister Mary would be proud.

Addendum: On a related note...

Lookie what I found at a website called Grammarist (.com).

{Lookie?}

"Live and let live is a proverb that is hundreds of years old."

Yada-yada-yada...

"To live and let live means to be tolerant, to live one’s own life in the manner that he [she/they] wishes and to allow the other fellow [person] to live his [her/their] life in the manner that he [she/they] wishes. The philosophy of live and let live does not necessarily embrace or condone the differences of others, but it promotes accepting the differences of others without trying to change them."

Yada-yada-yada...

"The phrase live and let live comes from the Dutch. It is found in The Ancient Law-Merchant, a collection of commercial law compiled by G. De Malynes in 1622. This code of law was written by medieval merchants to govern trade throughout Europe, North Africa and Asia Minor."

Imagine, Pasty Patriarchal money-grubbing capitalists understood what the concept of diversity and inclusion should mean, and made it the law.  

{Yada-yada-yada? And what about equity?}

As to the yada-yada-yada, follow the link. As to equity, entrepreneurs trying to survive in the real world understand that equity (defined as equality of outcome) is an adolescent dream that could easily become/is becoming a nightmare.    

Poppa loves you,

Have an OK day

Scroll down to share this column or access previous ones. If you enjoy my work and the fact I don't run adverts or sell things, please consider buying me a coffee via PayPal or plastic.    

Feel free to comment/like/follow/cancel/troll me on Cranky's Facebook page. I post my newest column there on Saturdays and interesting stuff on other days.

Dicktaters

A diggin' the dictaters/news you might've missed column

Image by Here and now, unfortunately, ends my journey on Pixabay from Pixabay

This is: A weekly column consisting of letters to my perspicacious progeny. I write letters to my grandkids and my great-grandkids — the Stickies — eventual selves to advise them and haunt them after they've become grups and/or I'm deleted. Reading via monitor/tablet is recommended for maximum enjoyment.  

Warning: This column is rated SSC — Sexy Seasoned Citizens — Perusal by kids, callowyutes, or grups may result in a debilitating intersectional triggering. Intended for H. sapiens that are — in the words of the late, great bon vivant and polymath, Professor Y. Bear — "Smarter [and cooler] than the av-er-age bear." 

About

Glossary 

Erratically Appearing Hallucinatory Guest Star: Dana — A Gentlereader  

"I'm not a dictator. It's just that I have a grumpy face." -Agusto Pinochet

Dear (eventual) Grandstickies and Great-Grandstickies (and Gentlereaders),

Once there was a blogger from Belarus... Dicktaters can grow, and thrive, just about anywhere. The bully that runs Belarus uses MiG-29 fighter jets to swat flies. Now that's a dicktater.

Alexander Lukashenko, a Pooteen protege, is an OG dicktater whose territory, Belarus, the alleged Republic of Belarus, butts up against/was part of the now officially disbanded USSR.        

{And we care about this because?...}

He ordered a MiG-29 to intercept an Irish passenger plane that was flying from Athens to Vilnius, Lithuania. 

{I think I heard something about that...}

The pilot was told there was a bomb on the plane by Belarusian air traffic controllers, and that it might be activated over Vilnius. The pilot was also told to divert to Minsk, in Belarus, and then a MiG-29 was graciously dispatched to escort the plane.  

Fortunately, no bomb was found. 

Belarus said they had no choice, that someone from Hamas, a spinoff of the religion of peace, had emailed them that a bomb was on board. Guilty conscience I guess.  

Alex the Not So Great says the email came from Switzerland, which as everyone knows, is lousy with Hamas social clubs. The Swiss confirmed that somebody sent an email, oddly, 24 minutes after the plane was ordered to land in Belarus.

Not for nothin'...

{Not for nothin'?} 

Not for nothin', in what might turn out to be the coinkydink of the year, it was discovered that Roman Protasevich, whose cover story is that he's a humble but lovable journalist and blogger self-exiled to Lithuania, was on that plane. He was on a list, compiled by Belarus's KGB, of individuals involved in terrorist activities.

The evil blogger, and his Lithuanian college student girlfriend, were tossed in the pokey. 

Mr. Protasevich was so racked with guilt about being a terrorist that he immediately came clean. His video confession was broadcast on television 24 hours later to a relieved/grateful Belarus. 

He's been charged with the horrific crime of organizing protests, from Lithuania, over the alleged election fraud perpetrated by Alex the Not So Great in Belarus's last presidential election in 2020.

Alex the Not So Great is a very popular public servant. He's been repeatedly reelected president and has been in charge of Belarus for 26 years.

Meanwhile, in the Middle Kingdom, Xi Dada, the current emperor of China, continues to try and out Orwell Orwell. 

Ethnic cleansing, enslaving the Uyghurs, swallowing Tibet whole, mass surveillance, eteceterance — well sure — but eventually, a smart dicktater figures out that rewriting history serves multiple purposes.     

 

It not only helps to keep the sheep in their pens, aid in the never-ending process of indoctrination, and influence future generations of sheep, it might even help if a given dicktater finds themselves on trial in the Hague someday for crimes against humanity.

{What are you?...}

I just discovered that Xi Jinping set up something called the Chinese Acadamy of History a couple of years ago (sorry, I'm running behind, keeping up with the Kardashians is exhausting) in order to (according to the Wall Street Journal), "...counter negative views of the ruling Communist Party's Past."

How he resisted calling it the Ministry of Truth I'll never know. 

{Doesn't netiquette call for a link to the WSJ?}

Well, their well-built paywall is very tall, so...

Anyways, it's been officially announced via a social media post, that the vicious story that Mao Anying — son of the world (in)famous Mao Zedong (who murdered more people than Hitler and Stalin put together) — got himself deleted by an airstrike in the Korean war when he fired up a stove to make egg fried rice is pure bonkercockie. 

This was discovered after an in-depth investigation of the events of roughly 70 years ago. Turns out that radio transmissions from Anying's commander's H.Q. inadvertently led to Anying getting blown to bits.

“These rumormongers have tied up Mao Anying with egg fried rice, gravely dwarfing the heroic image of Mao Anying’s brave sacrifice. Their hearts are vicious.”

They also discovered that Teddy Kennedy fired the kill shot from the grassy knoll and was an undercover assassin working as a cook in the kitchen of the Ambassador hotel.   

{I don't get that obscure reference, waaay too much ancient history for my taste.}

Easily googled if you're interested.

{You're aware that Keeping up the Kardashians has been canceled, right?}

I try not to think about it. I have a ways to go before I'm caught up and I'm cautiously optimistic that there will be splendiferous spin-offs and specials. 

Addendum — On a related note:

If you're worried because China's navy is now larger than ours, 

And,

Xi Dada, in a speech commemorating the 100th birthday of the Chinese Communist Party (the CCP, in Tiananmen Square of all places) while wearing his Mao jacket, declared that anyone who messes with China, "...shall be battered and bloodied from colliding with a great wall of steel forged by more than 1.4 billion Chinese people using flesh and blood.,"

Well, at least the US still leads in rapping. 

A 15-minute rap that includes 100 different CCP approved rappers extolling the "Chinese Dream" (yeah, that's a thing) face planted and was disappeared faster than a pro-democracy demonstrator prior to the birthday bash.

     

Poppa loves you,

Have an OK day

Scroll down to share this column or access previous ones. If you enjoy my work and the fact I don't run adverts or sell things, please consider buying me a coffee via PayPal or plastic.    

Feel free to comment/like/follow/cancel/troll me on Cranky's Facebook page. I post my newest column there on Saturdays and interesting stuff on other days.   

Obituaries

 Junkies and babies, and Wuflu, oh my!

Image by b0red from Pixabay

This is: A weekly column consisting of letters to my perspicacious progeny. I write letters to my grandkids and my great-grandkids — the Stickies — to advise them and haunt them after they've become grups and/or I'm deleted.

Warning: This column is rated SSC — Sexy Seasoned Citizens — A Perusal by kids, callowyutes, or grups may result in a debilitating intersectional triggering. Viewing with a tablet or a monitor is highly recommended for maximum enjoyment.  

About

Glossary 

Erratically Appearing Hallucinatory Guest Star: Dana — A Gentlereader  

"Health nuts are going to feel stupid someday, lying in hospitals dying of nothing." -Red Foxx

Dear (eventual) Grandstickies and Great-Grandstickies (and Gentlereaders),

In theory, the title of this column, Obituaries, should be world-class clickbait. I'll/It'll probably go insanely viral and rack up millions of hits. 

Also, I rendered the word obituaries in bold and used it a second time only 39 (or 40) words in.

{What the h-e-double hockey sticks are you on about now?} 

Well, it depends on whether ya count I'll/It'll as one or two words. 

{Cute. You know what I'm talking about.}

Well, Dana, I have it on good(?) authority that by repeating the title early on and in bold, using a title that "users" might type in that are oblivious to me and my columns existence; repeating it regularly throughout the column (but not too regularly); writing h-e-double hockey sticks instead of hell to indicate that this is a family-friendly column to appeal to my fellow Neoneoconservatives, my "community," — "going viral" is inevitable. 

{What does any of this crap poop have to do with obituaries?}

Nothing. 

I'm merely, one, reminding my fellow H. sapiens that the Earth has been invaded by an army of Algorithmites created in virtual laboratories by the minions of the semi (so far) evil tech oligopoly that's taking over the world. 

Algorithmites, like rust, never sleep. They're always virtually peering over your shoulder to see what you're up to so as to turn you into data for maximum monetization.

And two, pointing out that there's an entire industry devoted to teaching creators of content how to serve said Algorithmites so as to attract "sticky" eyeballs to your work and maybe make a buck — which is how they try to make a buck. You're much more likely to make pennies but it's like the lottery, ya gotta play to win.

Think of it as a public service announcement. I'm all about serving my community.

{On behalf of the community please accept my sincere thanks. Any chance we can talk about obituaries now?}

Why Certainly. 

To a certain segment of my "community," geezers and geezerettes, obituaries are important. For example, I begin my day by consuming a cup of Cafe Bustelo and an amazing amount of information (if I do say so myself) about current events via a highly engineered and continually tweaked system that includes the obituary section of the Hooterville Hornblower. 

My purpose in doing so is twofold. First, to verify that I'm not dead, a clueless ghost sitting in front of a keyboard writing non-existent columns for people who can't see/read them (or me).

Second, to check and see if anyone I know that lives on the periphery of my life have passed away peacefully into eternal rest, and no one told me. Not that I would be likely to go to his/her/their funeral or whatever. I try my best not to do funerals or whatevers. 

As to why... well, that would take a column's worth of words to explain properly. Suffice it to say it has nothing to do with a fear of death. Also, I pre-encourage anyone/everyone not to attend my Celebration of Life if there is one. If there's a funeral, I'll come back and haunt whoever is responsible.

Anyways, reading about people who went to their heavenly home comes with a major downside. Babies, toddlers, and teenagers die too. The announcement that one has is enough to bring tears to the eyes of even cynical, grumpy old cranks and crankettes.

If someone younger than fifty or so dies suddenly from unknown causes under investigation there's a good chance they succumbed to a drug overdose. Those sorts of obituaries are usually short, light on details, and sadly, appear regularly nowadays.  

According to the obituaries, most people don't die, they pass away, which I know from personal experience is not necessarily true, and the exact cause is rarely mentioned. 

Many people, particularly people over the age of roughly 70 or so, pass away peacefully while surrounded by their loving family. Well, I hope that's true. Regardless, I suspect that often the wording (like funerals) is more about the living than the dead.

I'm not entirely sure it's appropriate but I want to know the cause of death. Like when someone falls asleep in the Lord after a quietly courageous battle with Stage 4 lung cancer. Since the Wuflu plague, although rapidly/hopefully is fading but is still with us, this bit of knowledge seems particularly pertinent. 

For example, I'd like mine to be something like: 

It is with a mixture of sadness and rejoicing that our much-loved patriarch has set off on his final road trip to the Great Gig In the Sky. He was instantly vaporized, while traveling as a space tourist, when on the return leg of one of Elon Musk's To the Moon and Back Sightseeing Space Junkets the spaceship mysteriously exploded. 

Addendum: The Great Gig In The Sky

And I am not frightened of dying

Any time will do, I don't mind

Why should I be frightened of dying?

There's no reason for it, you've gotta go sometime

If you can hear this whispering you are dying -Rick Wright

 

Poppa loves you,

Have an OK day

Scroll down to share this column or access previous ones. If you enjoy my work and the fact I don't run adverts or sell things, please consider buying me a coffee via PayPal or plastic.    

Feel free to comment/like/follow/cancel/troll me on Cranky's Facebook page. I post my newest column there on Saturdays and interesting stuff on other days.