When the power goes out again, as it always does here---cloth wrapped electric wires from the thirties when this land was first homesteaded as a dairy farm and the main house was built, I guess the digital clock masters of China will send a signal to my new clock/radio to resume operating with the correct time when we flip the tripped breaker and power is restored. With powers like that, it's no wonder that China holds America's pink slip...
I was reading the 'political world overview' section of my latest Economist magazine. I think it's way cool that the two largest countries in South America both have ladies as their leaders. It seems that Christina Fernandez of Argentina has some kind of cranial malady and the doctors have to remove some blood from her brain. Considering the kind of economic and political shanagins that seem to habitually afflict Argentina, Madame President Christina is going to need all the blood her brain can hold... Speaking of brains, I saw an intriguing Frontline (PBS investigative show like 60 Minutes) episode about football and concussions. By now it's common knowledge (unless you work for the NFL) that there is a big and apparently growing problem with football (and, indeed, any contact sport---thank God I played volleyball) and its cumulative effect on the brain.
Like most chicken little stories, initial reports of deteriorated brain tissue among deceased former NFL players, were greeted with disdain and disbelief---especially among NFL and NCAA executives, who are behaving exactly like the tobacco execs when it was posited that there just might be a connection between smoking and lung cancer. They are not only in severe denial mode the're about to be in deep doo-doo mode as more and more people become incensed with this situation (like the parents of young boys who want to go out for the school football team to prove their manhood---especially to hottie classmates whom they dream of boinking behind the grandstands...). As the scientific evidence mounted, as with climate change, more and more people began to see the danger in contact sports---especially football. Even cumulative 'sub-concussive' events had the same effect as real concussions. In cartoons, a concussion is illustrated, as you'll no doubt recall, by a couple of birds slowly spiralling upwards over the head of the concussed victim. In real life concussions, especially repeated concussions or 'cumulative sub-concussive' events lead, mostly in later life, to a deterioration in the brain known as chronic traumatic encephalopathy (try saying that 3 times fast...). This condition manifests itself in dementia style behavior along with forgetfulness, feelings of rage and suicidal thoughts.
A slide of a brain with spongiform encephalopathy
Junior Seau, the famous former middle linebacker for the San Diego Chargers, had the condition and he knew it. When he killed himself, he did it with a bullet to the heart so his brain would be preserved and used to provide further evidence of CTE. Players' wives and, increasingly, former wives, have provided the most poignant testimony. The retired players couldn't remember the names of their own kids, much less what day it was. They acted just like Alzheimer's patients. When examined under a microscope, the brain tissue of these folks looked just like the brain tissue produced by mad cow disease, more properly known as Bovine Spongiform Encephalopathy. It turns out that there are these rogue proteins called prions that are pretty much indestructable and that somehow got into certain bovine herds.
The cannibals of Borneo or New Guinea--I forget which--used to eat the brains of their vanguished foes some of which had these evil rogue prions. I believe the rogue prion syndrome started there. How this condition migrated from cannibals in the highlands to the world's beef population is a fact only known by the same guy who knows who let the dogs out and who really killed JFK...
You may recall that some years back a mad cow disease epidemic broke out in "Jolly Ould England". The cattle producers had the pleasant practise of mixing dead cow parts, including brain material, into the feed of live cows, thereby transferring the prions to pretty much the entire English herd. Everybody freaked out because eating said cows would transfer these evil prions to the consumer where they would eventually migrate up into the brain causing zombie-like behavior. In order to avoid an outbreak of zombies looking for more brains to eat, the 'authorities' decided that, since every country in the world, including poor Bangladesh, had stopped importing English beef, the entire collection of British bovines needed to be incinerated. I don't know how many cows were barbecued but I know one personage who was thrilled. That's right, Jews and Christians, I'm talking about God/Yahweh. I doubt if anybody has sacrificed a bullock, an ox, a swine or a sheep to the almighty in quite some time. Imagine how thrilled God must have been when the sweet smell of burning cow reached his almighty nostrils.
"From now on, the Brits are my chosen people!" God, probably thought to himself. Considering how things worked out for the former chosen people of God, the British people might want to tighten their seat belts as they may be in for a bumpy ride. Hijinks might even ensue. I'm just sayin'...
In other nooz...due to a lack of foresight, hindsight and oversight I somehow let my checking account become overdrawn to the tune of $1k and change. Imagine my alarm and humiliation when a debit card purchase of prescribed meds (2$) was rejected by the computer at my local Walgreens pharmacy. The same thing happened later after my workout (I'm letting go of the treadmill side rails for longer and longer periods of time now-sometimes even minutes at a time---Thanks Timmy---I know you're so proud...) when I went to the local sporting goods store to purchase some sweat absorbing workout headbands and a proper gym bag. The bag I've been using has two side pockets where I keep my essential shower toiletries (through hard work and unceasing dedication I've managed to work my way up to four showers a week!...). Unfortunately the zippers on both side pockets malfunctioned, leaving said side pockets only zipped under the fly itself. I feared that my precious toiletries, especially 'product' (hair gel-- to tame those 12 angry hairs atop my head. If that doesn't work, I'm thinking maybe sheep-dip might do the trick...), would topple out onto the locker room floor to the general derision of 'the fellas'.
"Hey look, Gunther, this loser not only uses hair gel when he doesn't even have any hair, he has dandruff too cuz he shampoos with Selsun Blue!" So I went to the counter to pay for my new gym bag, only to find my debit card rejected yet again. Since I had sensibly chosen the cheapest bag in the joint I had enough cash to cover the purchase. Upon returning home I immediately went to my Wells Fargo checking account web site. Yep, $1k and change, negative, in the balance forward column. Three checks had been returned NSF. Luckily not the rent check. The returned checks were small items written to three of my 22 medical creditors. I think I'll wait till they call me... So back in the car and down the hill to my other bank where I have a money market account and a CD (21 months...1% per annum!!!). I got a cashier's check for $5k and put it in my regular bank's checking account. That should put out the fire. JP Morgan, also known as the mayor of Happy Acres, once again saves the day. Kudos all around.
Love and kisses from the mostly omniscient and omnipotent Mickey da Mayor of Happy Acres
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