Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Thursday, July 16, 2026

Web Log for 7.15.26: Is X Dying of Stupidity?

I didn't find any good links on X, but today's reflections on what I found on the Internet are about X. 

Funny thing about X. I do read more than I write, listen more than I talk, in real life and in cyberspace. Yet, when X suddenly (no warning, no mention of this in the official rules) springs on us a new policy that people have to pay for the number of posts we want to publish per day...

1. There's no way I'm paying X. I don't object to Elon Musk earning his own money but Hell will freeze solid a thousand times before I send him any more money. 

(And I don't mean freeze over. I mean freeze solid. Picture the whole population of even southern Michigan being airlifted away from what Al Gore says is the once again impending ice age.)

2. I "unfollowed" all the commercial accounts long ago. This morning I went to the trouble of "unfollowing" all the accounts that don't give evidence of reading MY X posts. Never mind that several of them were writers' and musicians' accounts that I never expected would use X socially, from which I only ever expected to see news about scheduled books, records, or concerts. Never mind that a few were sports accounts I followed mainly to have posts to share with people who don't post on social media, but do check sports teams' accounts. (I joined Twitter at the urging of a relative who's had an empty profile page for years: "If you post something about the -- team, I'll see it and know you need a lift.") Never mind that a discouraging number of old Tweeps have not merely become Twitter Quitters, but actually died, in the years since I followed them on Twitter. I want to be sure that I don't "follow" anyone who thinks he's paying to set up a cyberspace where he does all the talking and never listens to me. Even if I never expected the person managing the account to engage socially with anyone else, from now on, if you're not reading and replying to my X posts, I don't want to see yours.

3. And I even noticed, when a long-term e-friend did reply to one of my posts, that she's only ever replied to my posts that replied to hers. Why do so many of her posts show up, anyway? Get outta my feed, you wretched paid account. Who wants to read what someone is paying to say? This person had posted some harmless disinformation under the line, "Nobody is really reading these posts." I said that I was, but I was stepping further back from X again. She replied, "I'm sorry you feel unheard." Hello? Who posted about "feeling unheard" first, and no, "feeling unheard" is not the feminine form of "seeing low engagement numbers" or "getting ignorant replies." "I'm sorry you feel..." is a sexist insult to a woman, even if another woman spews it. I don't follow this person any more.

The world became a less friendly place today...

Obviously Musk deserves blame for this. He can afford to run X as a charity, and he should do that. He should buy lists of the names of all the writers who were cheated by Associated Content, Bubblews, Chatabout, Hire Writers, Freelancer, and all the other writing sites that owe people money, and/or Yougov, worldwide; and he should offer those people a dollar a post, including reposts and quoteposts, up to 100 posts a day, for life. Rules should specifically include that we will be frank about corporations and their products, but only in an informative way, no "flames." ("Chatabout has owed me $4.85 since 2014" is informative. "Chatabout stinks" is a flame.) And they should stipulate that he's doing this JUST SO THE POOR SLOBS WHO THINK THEY HAVE TO PAY PEOPLE TO READ THEIR CONTENT, WHICH IF ALL THEY EVER POST ABOUT IS JUNK THEY ARE TRYING TO SELL IS PROBABLY TRUE, WILL HAVE AN AUDIENCE.
 
Meanwhile? Substack also has tiers of free and paid memberships, but it uses them in a reasonable way. Free accounts are encouraged to use the "chat" pages and e-mail their Substack'zines to everyone who wants to read them, free of charge. If your'zine takes off and people pay for subscriptions, then Substack starts talking about revenue sharing. You can pay for actual publication. The ephemeral nature of Twitter and X wouldn't support that...though X has tried to develop a "writers" division where in theory X might someday be able to publish long posts in the way Substack does.

All Xeeps, and all old Tweeps who migrated to Blue Sky, are hereby invited to join me on Substack until X recovers sanity or dies. 

Wednesday, July 1, 2026

Web Sites I Wish Still Existed

This week's Long & Short Reviews prompt is "web sites I wish still existed." 

The web sites that I wish still existed are the ones that disappeared because bloggers died. 

Sometimes blogs are kept online as memorials. I like this; at least readers don't lose the whole archive when the blog stops being written.

Sometimes web sites just disappear. You click on a link to a web site you used to frequent and see a message that the site name is available for rent, if you want to set up a site with the same name.

Either way, the living web site is gone when its primary author is. Group blogs like Making Light, and like what this web site originally intended to be, do outlast one primary author as long as other bloggers survive. Too often the whole group are the same age, so the others don't outlive the primary blogger by very long. This web site did start out with the perspectives of two different generations; by now of course it represents only one.

I miss the living, growing Ozarque blog.

I miss Scott Adams' Dilbert Blog.

I miss Vivian Zems' Smell the Coffee Blog.

I miss Barbara Ehrenreich.

I miss Linda Lee Lyberg. 

I don't want to rush back to the "bright side"--facts first, feelings follow--but I will point out that, oddly enough, although I miss the blogs I followed twenty years ago, I still seem to find more worth reading online than I have time to read.

For one thing a lot of people who never used to blog are now blogging on Substack. Gene Weingarten, Dave Barry, Roy Blount, Garrison Keillor--many baby boomers' favorite comedians now have blogs. Poets like Rajani Radhakrishnan, literary novelists like Margaret Atwood, have blogs. These writers are not young. No worries--lots of younger writers are on Substack too. All I can say is, if you open a Substack account (even if you don't publish a'zine there), you'll be astonished at the number of people who you never thought would have blogs, who now have them, on Substack.

I don't look forward to having to starve the monster by pulling out of the Internet...but if that's what it takes to stop the plans for "data centers" to turn our Promised Land, North America, into the sort of toxic waste dump that is now known as Industrialized China, I''ll do it. And so will you. We'll just have to print our Substack'zines on paper and send them out by real mail.

Wednesday, April 1, 2026

Favorite Book Blogs and Ten Bogus Book Reviews

This week's Long & Short Reviews prompt asks us to list some favo(u)rite book blogs. 

Well, there's always the link-up at the L&SR site...


And these from the blog roll...


(This one's not been active lately. I begin to worry.) https://barbtaub.com/




...and others; five ought to do for a start, especially with the link-up above. (See the comments. Some regular posters at Long & Short Reviews backed away from this prompt because who wants to read us sitting around introducing each other to each other. The idea was to expand the circle but I can see why some people just commented that they didn't want to bother.)

This being April Fool's Day, however, here are ten Bogus Reviews of Books the April Fool Will Never Find in the Store or Library...

1. Pitt, H, M.D. Your Amazing Armpits. Bladensburg, Maryland: Axillary Auxiliary, 2010.

Discusses the importance of sweat as a means of communication and the damage done to entire societies when they have discovered aluminum-based antiperspirant deodorant. Includes an illustrated section on armpit hair braiding traditions.

2. Toze, I.C., Mystery of the Stolen Shoes. Grosset & Dunlap, 1987.

In this lost volume of the Nancy Drew Mystery Stories, Nancy, Bess, and Georgie find all of their shoes stolen and have to run out to the mall barefoot. Of course Nancy finds the criminal, who turns beet-red, then white, in the face when he sees that she's seen him blissfully sniffing a shoe, and then obligingly faints dead away. Meanwhile, our sleuthy team finally learn something about judging people by first impressions as they are suspected of having robbed one of the shops last week, when they were at school and couldn't possibly have done it. (In this volume we see, for the first time, evidence that the three school friends ever actually attend classes.)

3. Looney, U.R., M.S.W. How to Improve Your Mental Health. Tarcher, 2021.

An experienced counsellor discusses proven techniques to reduce depression in the post-COVID world, such as "Stop talking and thinking about your own feelings all the time," "Take a walk outdoors in the sunshine," and "If you drink alcohol, stop." 

4. Moneyhun, I.O. How to Get Rich. Amazon, 2026.

Literally 159 of the 160 pages in this book are irrelevant blather that appears to have been copied from other books, one line from each book. Not only do sentences not follow logically from one another; they shift, within paragraphs, among different languages. There is a clear intention of filling up Amazon's minimum word and page count while not copying enough from any one book to be sued. However, on page 160 the author finally reveals a secret no other author on this topic has yet told you. "I don't know how to get rich! No other writer knows, either! If writers knew how to get rich, we wouldn't be writers!" This is well worth the price of the book ($99.95, paperback).

5. Rimer, A.B. Pi-Ology. Vogsphere Cosmic Press, 2026.

A collection of poems all written in lines of 3, 1, 4, 1, 5, and 9 syllables, in that order, such as:

"Anything
You
Do, and repeat,
Is
Heard as a pattern,
Including poems found in this book."

6. Jennings, P.N.M. Odes to My Darling Doggie's Adorable Internal Parasites. Cambridge: Counterculture Press, 1978.

Reprinted due to demand from the ever-expanding circles of Douglas Adams fans, these poems may or may not have been what Adams mentioned in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy but they certainly are bad. The poetess apparently never suspected that if she had stopped thinking of clever ways to describe animals that are not usually celebrated in verse, and taken her darling doggie to the vet, he might have survived longer.

7. Shoi, D.F. Vegan Chinese Cooking and Why Americans Are Doing It All Wrong. Hong Kong: Global Communications Inc., 2015.

Argues that soy sauce, and each other ingredient in a harmonious Buddhist vegan stir-fry, should be soaked in vinegar in a pyramid-shaped container in the roof of a pagoda for all 99 days of a southern Chinese summer. As a result the stir-fry can easily be consumed by people who have no teeth. The author blames Americans for the failure of his medical practice and his restaurant.

8. Dummkopf, I.B.E. What's Wrong with Women Today and Why Marriages Fall Apart. Salt Lake City: Brigham Young University Press, 2026.

A challenging read due to the author's nonstandard syntax, this book contains an hour-by-hour explanation of what the author blamed his wife for doing during the nine days he was married. The publication of this book was subsidized by the author's grieving parents following his suicide, for which they blame his ex-wife.

9. Ronzoni, G. Noodle: The Pastafarian Revelations of Leroy Studebaker. Tarcher, 2026.

According to his disciples, Leroy Studebaker found himself locked out of his home one night and, having drunk heavily earlier in the evening, sat down on his doorstep and narrated a vision of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Its message began with a list of female bar patrons at whom his staring had been winked, "but when thou eyeballest Rinda Tabermaker, thou eyeballest not well for her ways are the ways of death."

10. Zucker, I.M.A. The Benefits of Windows 365. Concept Publications, 2026,

"Blank books just don't sell like they used to," the publishers observed upon going bankrupt. This last book instantly became a collectors' item.

Thursday, March 26, 2026

Meet the Blog Roll: Laura McKowen

Moving down the blog roll, I paused to delete a couple of links to sites that used to be writers' blogs but have evolved into publishers' marketing pages, which is all right if the writers are putting their time into writing books, good for them, but it means that no blog posts are actually showing up on the blog roll and the sites are only taking up space that keeps new blogs from being added. I am likely to want to buy new books by e.g. Louise Erdrich, whose Birch Bark Blog has grown into a full-sized publisher's site for the new Birch Bark Books imprint. This new site is easy to find on Google. It is no longer an individual's blog.

This brings me to Laura McKowen. Her Substack is now hidden behind a paywall. She's not updating the web site that's on my blog roll. I still follow her, sort of. I'll mention her here because some people may want to follow her Substack. 

I am not and have never been even in her intended audience. Knowing he had alcoholic genes, my Irish and Cherokee father kept our home alcohol-free. I grew up with stories about what happens when people who have alcoholic genes use alcohol other than the way nature clearly intended it to be used--as cleaning fluid.

A beloved elder "had two more brothers that died back in the 1930s. They would beg outside bars, dig in garbage bins and drink whatever kind of alcohol or take whatever kind of pills they could find. They started drinking beer with friends, and what it did for them was make them so sick they wanted anything at all to make them feel better for a little while. They were in bad shape before they died. They were like old men. Neither of them was even thirty years old. Seeing how they died at least turned the two younger brothers in the right direction, but you can see how much damage they've done themselves." Both of the younger brothers were sober men with disabilities that showed when they talked; neither ever married or had children. 

An elder I never knew had had a long healthy life, with grandchildren, before some loss or illness unknown made her want to alter her consciousness. "She's in a hospital, on a locked ward. They talk about 'hitting the bottom'--she went down fast and hit that bottom hard. Most of your cousins just forget about her. Well, she sort of adopted her husband's family and forgot about us for a while, before you were born. Anyway A and B go out to see her when they can." 

A man who served in the same war with my grandfather, though they didn't apparently work together as buddies, didn't go down quite as fast. Apparently he'd been the neighborhood drunk for years. People felt sorry for him, but the story they told about him was just too good not to share. "Some neighbors found him lying on the ground. He said 'Are you dead too?' He must have been so sick he thought he'd died...and A said, 'Get up, [name]! You're not dead! If you were dead you'd see the fire!'"

Then of course there was the man from whom we rented a house, at times, before inheriting the house where I live now. Things he had done for beer money had included throwing lighted sticks of dynamite into the river to kill a lot of fish, some of which he then netted and sold. He seldom got up any more, but would draw a hand out from under the sheet to show visitors the first joints of two remaining fingers, and the stub of bone inside the "webbing" that had been the base of a thumb. He could still expand his hand; you could see a little knob at the inside edge of the hand move the "webbing" in and out. "What I got for dynamiting fish," he said. "It's not fair to the animals. Never fish with dynamite." He had been a carpenter, even a "house carpenter" who built wooden houses, and the ones that have not burned down are still standing. After the fishing incident he did some unskilled labor. His sober wife, who still worked though I was bigger and taller than she was by age ten, got a pretty good widow's pension for twenty-some years after he died; they were about the same age. 

And there was another old man who always hailed my brother and me as "boys." Probably he could see the difference, Dad thought; he was just saying he intended to treat us the same way. He was the only man we actually knew who'd ever been a coal miner. (We knew an old lady who'd been a coal miner's daughter; she was "the one from Appalachia," accepted that identity with pride, organized car pools to go back for visits. It was not disreputable to be a coal miner if you lved in Appalachia.) The way this neighbor had become a coal miner was that he was a mean drunk and, though he used to be strong and hardworking, nobody wanted to work with him. He was known for going home drunk and beating his wife. She was relieved when he got work in a mine fifteen or twenty miles away, and rejoiced when he moved on to one fifty miles away. During Dad's school years the man "got saved" and became a total abstainer from alcohol. He was still bad-tempered and disreputable, Dad said. "He was mean to his kids--they all left as soon as they could and never came back. You should say hello if he speaks to you, and it's all right to take a lift if he offers you one, I suppose, but try to steer clear of him. If he needs any help I'll do the visiting." Mother added: "Remember that song Ernie Ford used to sing? Coal miners were proud of being rough and mean. Nice people didn't want to know them." Oh, people in the towns that never had coal mines, in the Appalachian Mountains, just love people who think we all had connections with the coal industry. Only after gerrymandering put mining towns into our state delegate's constituency did we discover that, "If you think coal is ugly, look at poverty." 

I've never felt inclined to drink cleaning fluid. I have friends and relatives and readers who struggle to remind themselves that for them, too, alcohol is cleaning fluid. Most of us in my home town have Irish or Cherokee ancestors, or both. For about three out of four Irish people and three out of four Cherokee people, a dominant gene for alcoholism makes the rule "One drink, one drunk." Responsible use of alcohol means don't ever drink it. In other ethnic groups alcoholic genes that produce different patterns of alcoholic behavior are recessive, but for us, social rules based on the idea that there's anything normal or healthy about drinking alcohol are harmful rules that have been deliberately used against us. (Those rules have been used to discriminate against the alcoholic minority in those groups, too.) We are best off when we reject those customs altogether; when even the Communion wine served in thimble-sized cups at church is unfermented "new wine," a.k.a. Welch's grape juice. People who feel a need to imbibe stuff that weakens their grip on reality are not the kind we want doing responsible jobs. Alcoholism is one category of "disability" that can and should remain potential rather than actual, without ever limiting anyone's opportunities in life.

In short; I believe Jesus turned the water into wine at Cana, but if He'd been present in the body at a wedding here and someone had brought wine, He'd be more likely to turn the wine into water. Maybe into soda pop, which, we in the Southern States have a right to affirm with pride, has displaced wine as a party drink in our culture. So let it remain. Let stupid German ideas about a real man not actually being an extrovert, but having built up a high tolerance for  alcohol as the depressant that acts first on the conscience and produces temporary extroversion, rot in the grave with Hitler. God gave sober Americans the ability to defeat beery Germany for a reason. We should celebrate the superior merits and achievements of our AA-friendly culture; we should help European visitors discover how much healthier and more productive they, too, can feel when they learn to drink coffee or soda pop or, at least when they're in parts of the US where water has not yet been made nasty, plain water, with meals. Maybe they could even stop destroying their cultural heritage with their never-ending tribal wars. European civilization would be a fine idea, if tried...but that's not the point of this post.

I have reasons to believe that I inherited alcoholic genes, but I've never tested the hypothesis. In the diplomatic community a lot of drinking went on. My husband was a heavy drinker when we met. I said, "I don't want to live in a house where alcohol is drunk." Ours was a house from which some expensive bottles were taken to parties, or to his big house in Maryland where up to six couples could stay in guest suites if they were too drunk to drive home, but if my husband reached for a glass I said, "If you're drinking, I'm driving," so most of the time we both stayed sober. Though he was not an alcoholic and said that some of those parties were only fun if you drank fairly heavily at them, he liked being sober enough to spend less time at those parties. He credited sobriety and daily meditative walks, in fact, for what turned out to have been remission from cancer, during the years when we celebrated that it hadn't been a more common and treatable kind of cancer. I never tried to nag him out of drinking. He had one friend who was a mechanic; when that friend came out to do maintenance on the car they'd drink at least one six-pack out in the yard. My husband was the one who noticed that he felt better on weeks when that had not happened. And that it's not necessary to have physical Irish ancestry to laugh out loud, or even sing out loud, in the company of Irish-Americans.

Laura McKowen is a recovering alcoholic who decided to publish books that are no longer anonymous. They're not case histories; they're about things she learned from life experience, going beyond the basic alcoholic story, that may be helpful to other people who are or are not alcoholics.

The "anonymous" twelve-step groups have produced books. Unfortunately, anonymity means that any details that might make a story fresh or funny have been cut out. People tell the same story over and over. 

My name is (kindergarten name or "street name"), and I am an alcoholic (or addict). (Number of years or even months) ago, I was drinking or using (whatever). I passed out and forgot to come to work a few times, like fifteen or twenty times, so my employer told me not to come to work any more. That made me feel bad, so I reached for relief in a bottle of booze/pills. The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital feeling terrible. (Optional: They told me I had done something I was lucky to have survived.) (Optional: I had destroyed my own (body part/s).) While I was still in rehabilitation, I joined this group. I knew I had to replace my addiction to alcohol/drugs with an addiction to the group and I'm so thankful to have met such congenial people. When I feel like reaching for the bottle, I call my recovery buddies and, if we can't get to a full group meeting, we have a meeting of our own in somebody's house. (Optional: I know I will never work as a (surgeon, pilot, teacher) again but I am just glad to be alive and employed as a (dishwasher, salesman, massage therapist). I am just taking my life One Day At A Time...

It's a good story, but in these groups' "Big Books" it may be repeated fifty or a hundred times. For the person who needs to be reading and telling that kind of story, it's good to read it over and over and find that the same general process worked for the surgeon, the teacher, the truck driver. For the rest of us... well...

This web site has its own anonymity policy. Knowing that all blog hosting sites fund themselves by tracking our "interests" and selling our profiles to advertisers, we never mention anyone's real-world contact information. So all I'll say about the person who recommended Laura McKowen's blog is that person really worked a twelve-step program as a spiritual discipline during the last ten years of per life. One thing that person did was to recommend Laura McKowen's blog, and books as she wrote them, both to people at an earlier stage of recovery and to people who don't feel a need to get drunk or stoned.

Because McKowen's message is not limited to "just replace the physical/emotional addictions to substances with a purely emotional addiction to your group, call meetings when you feel tempted to drink or use other drugs, and take it one day at a time," but goes on into insights into work and family life and spirituality, I think sober women will appreciate her writing too. It's no longer available free of charge. If you have a disposable income, you might find her writing worth supporting.

Thursday, March 5, 2026

Meet the Blog Roll: Cantos y Oraciones

Cantos y oraciones is Spanish for "songs and prayers." That is what appear at this quirky little Spanish-language blog. 


Over the years, different people seem to have taken turns contributing posts, blogging their way through hymnals, prayer books, meme collections and even video Bible readings. This blog has had dormant seasons but even during those, it's always been a reliable source of Christian content.

In Spanish.

Which I expect all of The Nephews who can hear words to speak, even if some of you did attend that church that set out to make Mandarin Chinese your second language. Spanish is too easy and too ear-pleasing a language not to learn. 

Wednesday, March 4, 2026

Fictional Things I'm Glad Are Not Real

This week's Long & Short Reviews prompt asks which fictional things in the books we've read reviewers are glad are not real.

It would be easy just to list ten dystopian "worlds" (Huxley's Brave New World, the world of 1984, the Republic of Gilead, Camazotz, the world of Harrison Bergeron, Planet Abba, any human settlement on any planet like Venus (or otherwise unable to support human life), a fictional world invented by a writer I've forgotten where all women died in childbirth, the hypothetical future Earth in Native Tongue, and the Socialist Realist writers' nasty vision of Earth, and a few hundred more that were as nasty, or nastier, but not as memorably written about) and be done with it.

But let's stick to specific features of the fictive worlds of different books, if I can...

1. Telepathy in the fictional sense of actually reading other people's thoughts--as distinct from reading nonverbal communication and recognizing pheromones, both of which are real, and which allow us to guess each other's thoughts

Douglas Adams made a  brief reference to a planet where, as a punishment, the population had been cursed with "that most cruel of social diseases, telepathy." As a result people didn't dare to think when other people were nearby and kept themselves from thinking by chattering. Adams did not actually force any of his characters to visit such a horrid place.

2. Vampires

If they existed vampires would be like any other predator species: The occasional occurrence of a friendly, likable individual would only make it more unpleasant that the species can't be allowed to live where humans live. 

3. Dragons

Well, actually large reptiles whose breath may not flame, but whose body secretions are corrosive enough to "burn" on contact, do exist. I'm glad that's as far as nature has gone in that direction. (The telepathic dragons of Pern aren't reptiles, as we know reptiles, but they wouldn't fit in on Earth anyway.)

4. Marriage between humans and mythical creatures

Seriously. In my e-mail yesterday someone was looking for a review of a story about a woman marrying a dragon.

5. Lifelong happiness

We feel emotions in contrast to one another so, although we can look back and say things like "The year I was twelve (or thirty or seventy-five or whatever) was a happy time," we're not wired to feel happy for even a day at a time. We can spend a day or two at a time reminding ourselves "S/He loves me back," or "S/He's home again, safe and well," or "This is what I worked for for so long." Then we adjust. "I wanted to be a doctor. Now I am a doctor! Hurrah! Now...I am a doctor with a broken tooth. I am a doctor who wants to do a study that will need funding. I am a doctor whose grandfather's disability just worsened." Future happiness comes from further moments of discontent that motivate us to further achievements. We can be cheerful people. We can live with people, in places, doing things and having things, that are perpetual sources of good feelings. But we're not wired to feel happy all the time. By accepting that, if we want nothing more in life than we have now, we've reached a plateau from which we soon will want something else, we can enjoy many hours of good feelings, in which we like our homes, jobs, co-workers, families, states of health, etc., and we want to write another book, or remodel the kitchen, or win the tennis club trophy, or whatever.

6. Classy people

It is true that money buys a lot of solutions to life's tedious little problems, such as what we can eat when nothing's growing outside our homes, or where we can sleep if we don't have homes, and so on. It is true that people whose material needs are met enjoy more freedom to think and create and contemplate their ideals. It is not true that any level of wealth and status creates a whole class of people who are creative and spiritual and idealistic and enlightened. Not only are some rich people still petty, greedy, envious, and ignorant of anything that was not positively beaten into them at big-name schools; some rich people intentionally use wealth to do worse things than the average person ever considers doing. A good friend is probably as hard to find among the rich as among the poor. Or, to put it in a more pleasant perspective, the more rich people you know, the easier it is to appreciate the good character a poor person may have.

7. Any future "improvement" of existing computer technology that is currently being proposed, other than "block all uninvited input from other computers while a computer is in use"

We don't need more Plagiarized Intelligence. We don't need more surveillance. We don't need "smart" household appliances, especially if, as has been observed in existing "smarter, more efficient" devices on the market, their working lifespan is hardly a tenth of older "stupid" appliances that did the same thing. We certainly don't need silicon inside even the biologically disposable ears of domestic animals. We need to be training computer technicians to focus on maintenance and suppress thoughts of innovation.

8. People whose emotional problems can really be addressed by any form of "reparations" to a group

Let's take this idea to its logical destination: Women's property rights were denied for a long time, so by way of "reparations," only women can own property. There. Now women don't care how late men stay out or how much of a mess they make in our homes, right? Wrong. Redistributing money to all Black Americans wouldn't make them less bitter, better educated, or more qualified for promotions, either. If anything, more recognition of Black Americans who are free from bitterness, well educated, and amply qualified for promotions would be more likely to have that effect.

9. Space colonies 

In the real world, space travel is not fun.

10. Men who are more logical than women

Some men do try to think logically, detached from their hormonal moods, but the question must be asked whether it's possible to imagine detachment from our hormonal moods in the absence of a dramatic hormone cycle that routinely reverses all the merely hormonal moods we feel. Men often make decisions so illogical that only hormonal moods could possibly explain them, and don't realize it because they stay stuck in those moods longer than women do.

Thursday, February 26, 2026

Meet the Blog Roll: Ann Mackie Miller

This web site now has three series of posts on Thursdays: Meet the Blog Roll, Frugal Basics, and Dinner for Two for Less than Ten Dollars. Which comes next? You decide which to sponsor. All three series are sponsored by readers. 

For today, it is Meet the Blog Roll: Ann Mackie Miller, whose blog is "British Birds" at 


It's not been updated recently because it's pretty well filled. This blog gave me the mental model for my butterfly posts--only it consists only of bird articles, no link logs or book reviews or other fun stuff found here. Each article could be a chapter in a field guide, with clear, beautiful bird photos and facts about the birds' lives. If you are not British and have ever seen a reference to a bird in a British book and wondered what kind of bird the author meant, this web site will show you.

As with butterflies, several British species are found on both sides of the Channel and a few are found on both sides of the Atlantic. Many are considered close relatives of eastern North American species, having evolved only slight differences; some might be able to hybridize. Some, like the Mute Swan, Starling, and English Sparrow, were intentionally imported from Britain to North America. Some, like the Robin, aren't related, don't look much alike, and have similar names because British immigrants seem to have wanted to give familiar names to some sort of creature they found in North America. 

The British Birds blog may be more like a book-in-progress than like a typical blog, but those who enjoy birds will enjoy reading it. Its posts never really go out of date.

Some favorites:


Great Blue Herons became the icon for the Chesapeake Bay and efforts to keep the water that flow into it clean. So they are among my favorite birds--in my top hundred list, anyway. We used to think they were solitary creatures, only ever seen by ones. We've learned, as some specific kinds of pollution have been reduced, that herons are as solitary as they need to be. They are obligate carnivores who are built to catch prey in what seems a peculiar, inefficient way, so they spread themselves out enough during the day that each bird can find enough fish and shore creatures to survive. At the end of the day, family groups gather in a favorite tree. It has to be a large tree, for herons to roost in it, and as it will probably be grossly over-fertilized it's unlikely to last long. Anyway they "talk" to one another, and sometimes even "kiss" with their long sharp bills. North America's Great Blue Herons are different from Britain's Grey Herons and the Caribbean Islands' Cocoy Herons, but their ancestors may have been one species and, conceivably, their descendants might some day be considered one speies again.


Same species, and what adorable close-ups of the fluffy little goslings! Canada geese are fun to watch. They may all look alike to humans, but they clearly relate to one another as individuals. Couples bond and mate for life; extended family groups divide into nuclear family units while raising their young, then merge back into big flocks in winter. Some migrate and some don't. The return of the migrating family members to a favorite lake is always an occasion of much happy excitement. During the winter younger birds pair off. A flock of Canada geese often picks up a few geese of different species, and these become part of the extended family. These bold birds don't seem to mind being watched by humans as their babies grow up, but if you come too close they'll "goose" your knees. From their perspective, a golf course is a sad waste of a nice lake, to be discouraged by every means possible. They are, however, pretty good mowers and weeders of ordinary grassy fields.

And, of course...


It's not the little birds' fault that a name intended to sound like a noisee they make happened to sound like "teat" in English. As a result Internet wits are always using "tit pics!" as a come-on and displaying pictures of small gray birds. Britain has a few different species of tits. North America has one, in the West; in most places we have to get by with chickadees, nuthatches, and juncos. Tits not only don't produce milk, but consume it. Britain's blue tits worked out a way to pick the tops off British milk bottles in the mid-twentieth century.




Thursday, February 12, 2026

Book Review: Gobbledygook Has Gotta Go

Title: Gobbledygook Has Gotta Go

Author: John O’Hayre

Date: not given

Publisher: U.S. Goverrnment Printing Office

ISBN: none

Length: 113 pages

Illustrations: cartoons

Quote: “The Bureau of Land Management...can work together...only when we understand each other...Our comunications have sometimes failed because of a fascination with the traditions of officialese...”

Right. Despite the cartoons, this is not really a funny book. At times it approaches earnestness. It’s a serious guide to the art of corporate communication.

It is, however, a book some people need. It analyzes why some communication efforts fail, and suggests improvements that need to be heeded by all employees of private corporations or government offices, all authors of high school and college textbooks, and anyone who admits having taken courses toward an M.B.A. You know someone who needs this book...and it’s recommended to anyone who dares to send it where it may do some good.

Meet the Blogroll: Books Music Films TV (Paul Rance)

BooksMusicFilmsTV.com is a British literary criticism site operated by Andrew Bruce and Paul Rance, the latter of whom I e-met at Associated Content. The site sells these products of creative talent and posts biographies, bibliographies, discographies, etc. 

Because it's been set up more as a commercial web site than as a blog, new posts often fail to show up properly in my blog feed.

Paul Rance is the author of several books published in the UK: Made in Luton, Being St Francis, From Ecocide to Eden and more. These books are of course featured at the site, along with a lively mix of obscure new books and classics--Richard Adams, Jane Austen, Lewis Carroll, Graham Greene, Edward Lear, C.S. Lewis, Wilfred Owen, Anna Sewell...Not all books featured at the site are by British authors but all are available in the UK. 

As a booksellers' site BooksMusicFilmsTV shows a more cautious approach than this web site's "Oh well I bought or inherited this book so let's post something about it and see who, if anyone, wants it." Books seem to have been selected for their enduring popularity. This makes a book site more profitable, and it's nice to observe that BooksMusicFilmsTV has enough traffic to attract nice arts-related ads rather than random, obnoxious Google, Wordpress, Taboola or similar selections of ads.

(This web site, too, could have nice tasteful links to pages that opened into big-picture ads for new books and records, if authors and musicians were paying for them. Just saying.) 

Music has also been carefully selected for popularity, though here the classics include the Beatles, David Bowie, Kate Bush, Coldplay, The Doors, Green Day, Pink Floyd, Queen, and 10cc. You can play an opening selection from Paul Rance's rock music quiz book. 

Featured film stars include Julie Andrews, Richard Attenborough, Brigitte Bardot, Halle Berry, Richard Burton, and on through Peter Ustinov and Reese Witherspoon. You might not like all of their favorites (I'm surprised that anyone still has the fortitude to claim Woody Allen as a favorite, though he was certainly funny) and might miss some of your own favorites, but there's sure to be some overlap. Or you could browse by film titles, which incline toward the family-friendly but range from Babe and Bambi to The Matrix and Moulin Rouge.

TV is probably the category in which US and UK lists diverge most but, if you enjoy television, this is a good site for brushing up knowledge of TV in the country where you don't live. 

In a brief review of "Frasier" Paul Rance writes that "Americans struggle to grasp...that there are more accents in England than posh and Cockney!" Most of us, I think, haven't listened attentively enough to notice that e.g. the Beatles' Liverpool accent was different from Cockney, while C.S. Lewis's accent, as recorded, was quite different from standard BBC (which I imagine must be what he's calling "posh") and surely more upscale (Lewis was a real English teacher, while the BBC is a commercial company). Then again I don't imagine that most British people have a clue how different the various "Southern" US accents sound from one another, to me...

Thursday, December 18, 2025

Meet the Blog Roll: Laura McKowen

Most of us know some sort of addict--to alcohol, tobacco, sex, gambling, overeating, if not to the "illegal drugs" that are more dangerous purely because they've been ruled illegal. So we know the cliche: Addiction is a physical disease (in its own right, apart from the chemical imbalances specific addictions set up), but it has a social cure. Addiction involves biochemical reactions, inside the brain, to whatever it is the individual has become addicted to. While breaking up the physical patterns involved in addictions to specific substances, it can be crucial for extroverts and even useful for introverts to retrain the brain to transfer those biochemical reactions to something that is healthy and useful. For millions of people, a social group that's not affiliated with a specific denomination, but does what the apostolic church did for its society, turns out to be a good thing to attach those emotional and biochemical reactions to. By developing a psychological reaction to a social group and the social behaviors the group encourage, people get through any physical withdrawal symptoms they have and recover a more nearly "normal" life.

I've always been a Christian. I've not, as an adult, belonged to a church. I've declared a very simple rule for myself, based on observation of what works for Muslims. Friends help each other succeed in what they want to do. If you want to be my friend, and you are an adult human, that means you support my business. The Bible tells us, "Six days shall you labor and do all your work." The seventh day is reserved for God, best celebrated in pure worship but also, according to the Bible, set apart for acts of charity. The Bible lists several acts of charity that are appropriate ways to spend part of our days of rest. Indulging extroverts' felt "needs" to fondle and pry and score off and put down is not on any of those lists. 

For me, the spiritual effect of dressing up for a meeting with an ordinary group of people is anti-spiritual; as antithetical to pure worship as the dreariest business meeting or the most extravagant party would be. If I ever do find friends with whom I can worship God in fellowship, I'll know it because these will be the people with and for whom I work on the other six days. I'll know it because, as a group, they don't just take my money, waste my time, and gossip about me behind my back, but actively participate in helping me--and everyone else--to use our talents in service to God. Anything they do as a group other than the pure worship in which people enter a sanctuary in silence and devote themselves to prayer and singing, so completely that the goal is not to know which other people are present--any meetings in which they do look at and speak to other humans--will be effective work that relieves the real human needs Isaiah, Jesus, and Paul described. Wealth and even seniority will be recognized as talents among others. Everyone will be active, on as nearly equal a basis as their talents permit, with a commitment to pull down the vanity of those who like to feel dominant, in feeding the hungry, healing the sick, teaching the ignorant, visiting those in prison, mitigating the effects of disabilities...

...and, I've wandered off into religion so I might as well wander into politics too, in helping "the foreigner." That's a separate rant but, if the shoe fits, let Trump wear it. Some foreigners are best helped by warning them that those who encourage them to immigrate to the US are doing so for very selfish reasons, that if they can rent a safe place to live in their home towns they should. A few foreigners are best helped by delivering them, in chains, back to the criminal justice system in their own countries, making sure they are not starved or raped or even beaten more than necessary. Most of the foreigners we meet, we can and should help by showing them how well our understanding of ethics, morality, and spirituality work...by being nice.

Anyway, when various people have suggested that I ought to attend or join their church, I've explained this to them. I've already invested my lifetime supply of time, energy, and money in a church that didn't deliver any fellowship when I ran out of investment. Fellowship with any other church group will start where it should always start, with fair trade that supports my work. Six days of profitable work with or for members of one group will justify one visit to one church meeting. If what I find there is pure worship of God unspotted by any mere socializing with other humans, which may then be followed by service to meet real human needs when and where those are found, then I'll come back. And in my lifetime I did find something similar to this with Muslims, so I know it's possible; but for better or for worse, I am a Christian not a Muslim. 

I see a lot of bad things being said about Muslims on the Internet these days. I don't like that these beliefs and feelings are polluting the atmosphere but y'know, dear Muslim friends who have failed to oppose Muslim terrorists, toward the goal of breaking up the stereotype that you are violent uncivilized people it would help if your fellow believers weren't killing quite so many people every day. 

But when Muslims decide to be friends they can be awesome. They promote your work, they've got your back, they respect your monogamous or celibate lifestyle, they share ideas, they know someone who can help if you need extra help for a job...without any of the preliminary time-wasting that some Christians seem to think friendship is all about. Their cultural tradition takes friendship seriously and teaches people how to be good friends. I would like to find something like that sense of community among Christians. So far I've not found it yet.

And if these Christian friends who have tried to understand what I'm explaining are anywhere close, they say, "Maybe what you're looking for is a twelve-step group."

And I say, "But I don't have any addictions. Or if I did, it would be an addiction to writing; I don't want to give that up!"

And one dear man had enough faith in his group, which was basically Alcoholics Anonymous but open to others because it was a small town, to say, "Maybe you could try saying pride in not having any addictions? Like you've always known you have the alcoholic gene, so you don't drink alcohol--so maybe you'd be like a 'dry drunk'?"

Maybe. I don't think I'd ever have the chutzpah to walk into an AA meeting and say that. 

But I have seen how that group worked with people I knew, made active and radical Christians of people before they'd ever tried to verbalize what Jesus meant to them, and I admire the twelve-step groups. They can go wrong. Some groups do turn into personality cults, despite the way the group was set up to resist that. But some groups really do what they try to do, which is awesome. They don't specify how individuals have to relate to their Higher Power, they leave it up to the individual doing the steps to decide when and where to pray, but they really encourage every member, whatever faith tradition person claims, to be a good example of that tradition. 

I e-met Laura McKowen through a distant relative of mine. How distant, exactly, I'm not sure. Not all of my ancestors have been as well documented as some of them have. Then in every extended family you find somebody who was brought up as a cousin but was actually adopted, as a baby, and after person finds out the facts you might refer to person as "my cousin" and person says bitterly "If you go all the way back to Adam and Eve!" I think this particular relative was a cousin in the biological sense because people looking at us so often guessed he'd be my brother, but that was also true for an ex-boyfriend whose ancestors had been in different places from mine for centuries. Anyway he'd been brilliant and successful in youth, then become an alcoholic and basically come home to die, and on the way he'd joined one of the wonderful AA groups. 

And he worked the steps. Three guys who were in or between his and my high school classes became homeless, hopeless alcoholics. Most of our other classmates tried to avoid them. This relative tried to find rooms and jobs for them. Two of them have died by now--but one seems to be recovering. 

So I said to this relative, as I usually say to everyone sooner or later, "Who's your favorite writer? Whom do you recommend?" and he said, "Laura McKowen!" I looked her up. She had a blog. I started following that blog. She wrote nice, warmhearted, blunt and practical columns about addiction and recovery and being a single mother. Those are not topics on which I have any expertise. I followed her in order to learn about them. 

Years passed. I went from saying "Of course I wouldn't count on Associated Content to pay my bills," to earning enough on AC to pay some of the bills, to blogging. Laura McKowen sold a book, then another book, then moved from blogging for free to a newsletter for paid subscribers. For some years she kept me on her list as an honorary subscriber. Then she moved to an all-paid Substack. She still posts very occasionally on Blogspot, free for everyone to read. She puts most of the first drafts of possible chapters in future books on the Substack. I respect that decision. I don't pay for subscriptions to anything online.

Actually I don't like the idea of subscribing even to magazines I've consistently bought in stores, because when you subscribe you're paying in advance for content you might have chosen not to buy in a store. 

This actually happened: I went to Stitches Fair and got into a conversation with an editor at a knitting magazine. I said I liked that magazine because, in the eighteen months it had been published, it had been free from those tedious patterns that basically rewrite a pattern we've had for years, only they use a very expensive novelty yarn that's only in a few shops for a few months and most knitters don't even live near those shops. I always look through knitting magazines in the stores and, if they're full of basic-for-beginners patterns made with novelty yarn, I leave them in the stores. 

So the editor and I went our separate ways. I went home and decided to subscribe to that magazine because the editor had seemed so nice. The editor went home and told the rest of the magazine staff what people at Stitches Fair had told her they would or would not like to see in future issues. For every knitting magazine that has ever been printed there's been at least one reader who has whined and pined for more "easy" patterns...and within the year, an issue of the magazine came out with the theme of "easy projects that use very expensive novelty yarns"! 

I cancelled my subscription. They learned from their mistake. I bought every issue of the magazine in a store for the next ten years, before the magazine sold out. After selling out the magazine followed the usual trajectory. Bigger company with more money than "heart" for the craft lost most of the subscribers and, in a few years, the magazine disappeared. 

With Substacks you know that that, at least, isn't going to happen. Some people subscribe to Substacks because they know they're willing to read whatever a favorite writer, an e-friend, may write even when it's "I haven't had a new idea for three years, I'm starting to forget all kinds of basic information, and I'm afraid my brain is going."  

Some Substacks are the last paid jobs people have. Writers of the stature of Dave Barry are admittedly using Substack to eke out their retirement pensions. I am NOT opposed to the idea of people who have money choosing to pay for subscriptions to the Substacks of people who have no other job, may have medical expenses to pay or children to rear, and need the money. McKowen had mentioned a child. If you have the money, subscribe to her Substack by all means. I don't have the money. I have a computer that will lose its sponsored Internet connection if it sends money online to anything or anybody.

I still get a small part of Laura McKowen's Substack in the e-mail. It's still worth reading. She's not a very "voicy" writer; she's friendly and accessible, and excels at hosting blog discussions.

If you know an addict who wants a confidential e-friend? McKowen has been there. She'll put the person into a warm, confidential, but not enabling online community that can help keep the person on track. If you don't live near one of the really good twelve-step groups? That could be well worth a subscription.

Wednesday, December 17, 2025

Something I Wish I Were Better at Doing

This week's Long & Short Reviews prompt asks reviewers what we wish we were better at doing.

I wish I were a better writer. I wish I'd written a brilliant nonfiction book in time for my mother to go to the beach with friends in Florida and wail happily about her daughter's book being too heavy, in every sense of the word, for beach reading.

Ten books I wish I'd been given the ability to write anything like:

Scott Adams, The Dilbert Principle

Wendell Berry, What Are People For

Kathleen Desmaisons, Potatoes Not Prozac 

Suzette Haden Elgin, The Last Word: On the Gentle Art of Verbal Self-Defense

Richard Foster, Celebration of Discipline

Laura Ingraham, The Hillary Trap 

C.S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters

Angela Nissel, The Broke Diaries

Kathleen Norris, Amazing Grace

Dorothy Sayers, The Mind of the Maker

Thursday, December 4, 2025

Meet the Blog Roll: Coral Levang

This is another post that's hard to write...

Coral Levang was a fellow writer for Associated Content and some other sites that used to pay per post, comment, or view, back when those sites were active. As a US Navy veteran, cancer survivor, and artist she always posted fresh, interesting content and had masses of followers. 

When the cheap writing sites broke up, she and I followed each other on Twitter.  She was one of the "Tweeps" who showed me when I or someone else had been shadowbanned, by reliably commenting or not commenting on any of our tweets. 

She made the mistake of posting a recent photo of herself on Twitter. In real life women often claim that at age fifty or sixty they feel that they've become invisible--they're not being stared at any longer. On Twitter that was not the problem Coral had. She was sixty years old and looked it, but she looked active and cheerful. One day she posted a picture similar to this

(Photo from Google.}

Her comment was something like "This seems to be what interests a lot of people here most." 

In other words a lot of male Twits (what Twitter users were called), who were also twits (annoying persons), were sending her photos of themselves the way nobody in real life wanted to look at them.

Attention guys of the world: Most women don't really want to look at your faces, either. Nor does looking at your bodies in a normal, clothed condition do anything for us. A face photo may or may not help us keep track of which John, Mike, or Dave out there is which, but even if one of them has a classically handsome face, that doesn't mean much to most women. 

Men who are told this often snarl, "So what does mean anything to women? What do women want in a man? Money!"

Then presumably they go home and snarl at their wives that they bring in money, don't they, so somebody else can bleeping well clean up the mess they have left on the bathroom floor. Then their wives disappear. Then they go out to bars and pick up barflies who really are after their wallets. Their stories probably never end very well. This is because we have evolved away from a state of nature where these guys would have gone out hunting and been trampled by the buffalo or eaten by the bears they were trying to kill. Nature did not supply them with survival intelligence.

Anyway, one thing I, personally, look for in a man is survival intelligence. Does he, for example, have enough survival intelligence to skip the whole nasty story above by just cleaning the bathroom floor, or better yet sitting down and not leaving the bathroom floor dirtier than anyone else does? Enough to make a decent living at a job he may not leap out of bed eager to get back to, every single day, but can feel proud of having done? Enough to appreciate the younger generations? Did he once have enough of a "heart" to feel some response to socialist ideals, and has he developed enough intelligence to have lost faith in socialism? Has he noticed that, when his hormones are screaming that he's right, he's generally wrong? And, if he passes that test, do his eyes light up when he looks at me? Or, if he's blind, does he offset that by other unmistakable displays of interest? 

If he's just another nice-looking face flattened out on a screen, the world is full of those, and some of the best of them--consider Ronald Reagan well into his first term as President, Alex Trebek, Michael Jackson before all the cosmetic surgery--aren't even living any more. So who cares. A nice face says nothing at all about the niceness of a man's company. 

Below the face, well, all men dress pretty much alike except for the ones who, we have learned by experience, should not be outdoors unsupervised. For American men the options are basically a suit, a uniform, a sweater, or a T-shirt. People who really care may pay attention to questions like whether the complete suit, or only the shirt and trousers, are on display. Women who don't know you well probably don't care. Whether a uniform says "U.S. Marine Corps" or "McDonald's" does tell us something about you, but we remind ourselves not to read to much into it. Ditto for whether a T-shirt advertises our favorite sports team, a rival team, a place, a message, or just some tacky commercial product. Visible bare skin does tell us that you need supervision.

"What if I'm at the beach?" some smartypants cackles. Ha ha ha. Smartypants guys are funny, as distinct from being attractive. Men who are at the beach make a better impression by posting photos of seashells and driftwood than by posting photos of their skin. Attractive men do not intentionally annoy other people in any way. The function of little-kid teasing is to signal, "I'm a child, emotionally. I might be your younger brother. It's 'safe' to talk to me when you're completely uninterested in sex because any resemblance between me and a Real Grown-Up Man With Whom You Might Want to Have a Baby is purely superficial and accidental." 

The female body, dressed or undressed, is fascinating to most men. Young women who are willing to display their bodies in those pictures that fascinate men are probably thinking that, after all, what's so interesting about a body? The male body, dressed or undressed, is just not that interesting; except perhaps to homosexual men. The male counterpart to measuring 35-22-32 is when someone else tells us a man saved someone else's life at the risk of his own. Men just don't get as many opportunities to be interesting, in their lifetimes, as average-looking 22-year-old women get every day. To think that two and two are four, and neither five nor three, the heart of man has long been sore, and long'tis like to be.

Anyway, as a sixty-year-old breast cancer survivor, Coral Levang still had considerable appeal to men, and a lot of them were Navy buddies whose company she enjoyed, and then another lot were pests who annoyed her enough that she changed her Twitter name. She was being stalked and harassed in cyberspace. She dropped her blog, briefly picked it up again, then dropped it again.

I hope that's the only reason why her blog's dormant and I'm not seeing her on X.

I know, too, that when breast cancer has been treated, and then another kind of cancer has been treated, a person is not likely to have much time left in this world.

Thursday, November 27, 2025

Meet the Blog Roll: Becky Laney

Happy Thanksgiving, Gentle Readers! (Yes, of course this post was written and scheduled last week.)

In contrast to some of the other blogs on this list, I've not been following Becky Laney's blog for many years, or even one full year. It was about this time last year that someone recommended that book bloggers follow other book blogs, so I checked a few and added BLBooks.blogspot.com to the blog roll. 

Do you readers want to read two Christian blogs that frequently feature older books in one day? Maybe not, but it's an interesting contrast for those who have the time. Becky Laney is not really the opposite of me but she's certainly different. Her "favorites" list looks like my "nice, but not in the top 100" list. You might enjoy comparing and contrasting reviews on both sites for popular books like Anne of Green Gables and Harry Potter

Sometimes I add a book someone else has reviewed to my Amazon Wish List. I highly recommend this practice to you readers. I also recommend printing your Wish List and taking it with you when you visit local bookstores and charity stores. 

Thursday, November 13, 2025

Meet the Blog Roll: Barbara's Blog

Going through the Blog Roll is not an experience of undiluted joy.

Into each life some rain must fall...

Sometimes reading down the Blog Roll reminds me that someone I enjoyed following is no longer alive. 

Barbara Ehrenreich became one of my favorite writers when I read For Her Own Good in grade ten. 

I didn't agree with everything she said even in For Her Own Good, but I knew she was one of those writers whose every book I would want to read just for the pleasure of her snarky, precise writing voice.

Then I grew up and worked, from time to time, in the same building where she did. 

She was one of the founders of the Democratic Socialists of America--the Loony Left minority now in the process of destroying the Democratic Party. Her generation of Democratic Socialists, however, were aware that they were a minority and needed to work with others rather than against them. This made them as likable, reliable, easy to work with and delightful to know, as today's Loony Left are not. They were trying to make friends. 

It's sad to think that, if Ehrenreich hadn't died in 2022, she might today be another one of those horrible people who scream that Republicans are Nazis and mentioning any Christian practice is oppressive and classic books should be burned because they're not p.c. enough. Maybe I'd rather remember her as the independent, classically liberal thinker, who claimed Socialism as the religious faith of her childhood but freely criticized the errors of all political factions, that she was.

She wrote several books about the history of medical abuse of women, but I think her most important books are The Hearts of Men, which documented how the social trends that gave rise to Playboy magazine directly created the ones that gave rise to Ms. magazine, and Bright-Sided, which documented how "Positive Thinking" came to exist and how it sometimes helps, and perhaps more often harms, those who try to practice it. 

Also worth reading was Nickel and Dimed, in which she went undercover and did whatever entry-level jobs she was able to get as a middle-aged woman. In that book Ehrenreich was reasonably accused of underestimating the ingenuity of real low-income workers, who have built up skills for living on their low salaries, and built social networks, and can become quite comfortable (if they own their house and some land, or share those resources with family) on the kind of income on which Ehrenreich was acutely uncomfortable. How could she have done otherwise? The book was not a lie, exactly; the author was one human being and had limitations. She did accurately describe the plight of, e.g., young couples who have eloped and not dared to ask either pair of parents for money yet, or college dropouts who are just starting out, probably renting flats in high-rent neighborhoods, and paying off college loans. 

I liked her books, and I liked her blog, and writing this post feels...weird. 

I am, as Ehrenreich was, a naturally cheerful person who tends to feel that one might as well laugh as cry, even when documenting the damage popular products and practices have done to people. 

Natural cheerfulness is not, I say, the virtue it is sometimes imagined to be. It does not even make people easy to work with. 

When I'm feeling good, which is most of the time even in our polluted world, I walk faster than people who are taller than I am for a couple of miles before breakfast. When I'm feeling bad, I lie in bed thinking of wisecracks about my symptoms. 

My natural sister is not naturally cheerful--is, instead, depressive. I think that that makes me more fun to know than she is, but not everyone who knows both of us agrees. 

Secretly, deep down, even the people who preach Positive Thinking don't necessarily prefer the company of people who are naturally cheerful. At home "a merry heart does good like a medicine." In an office a merry heart makes resentful co-workers vow, "Little Miss Perky may type 160 words a minute, be able to read the branch manager's handwriting, cheer up the bereaved office manager, go miles out of her way to help the customers, and stock the break room with the best refreshments, but  we will NEVER let it be said that she could get along with co-workers." Then there's the fact that a merry heart doesn't flinch away from unpleasantness in the way a depressed one does. Bad things are to be overcome so why would we not talk about pollution, war, diseases, disasters, and misery? Talking about animal abuse might motivate somebody to adopt a shelter dog. Talking about the devastation a hurricane wrought might motivate somebody to donate money. If someone in the audience has the kind of weak soul that can't even relieve the anguish of thinking about starved dogs and homeless hurricane survivors by praying for them, how would we even know that it's possible to be that kind of person? A cheerful temperament can be fearless and forthright and also horribly insensitive.

Ehrenreich tended, as I do, to choke on all those Positive Thinking platitudes about cheerfulness being a virtue, like honesty, instead of a natural trait, like hair color. As a cancer survivor she certainly saw the lighter side of cancer, and appreciated the (she probably wouldn't have said) blessing of a longer than average remission after cancer has appeared as a breast tumor. At the same time she could also see how much better it would have been not to have had cancer at all. 

This morning I did a feel-good post about things for which I feel thankful to God, and in that post I mentioned that actually I had spent this Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday feeling pretty bad, physically. I live with a cat who normally does not cuddle; from early kittenhood she's tried to redirect all petting, caressing, and cuddling behavior toward her idea of fun, which has been a good fast game. Any display of affection from this cat, Serena, is noteworthy. Serena assumed that "heart to heart" position in which some cats and cat-people like to snuggle, this morning. It was a moment to be cherished. It had some additional meaning beyond the "Get up and come home for breakfast" message that could have been conveyed by simply meowing. "Ouch! Get up! Get off! Go away!" I said. The inflammation in my midsection was so bad that even up there the 14-pound cat seemed to weigh like a load of bricks. This is not a way I want you readers to have to feel. But it also seems funny to me. I'm old and sick, what a hoot, who ever thought any baby-boomer was ever going to be old...

Then I checked the Mirror, the blog/forum/community that grew from what initially seemed like a silly idea of ridiculing the Obama Administration's mistakes in the voice of "Michelle's Mirror" (whose job was to convince Mrs. Obama that she looked all right). As regular readers know, the woman who wrote it has had a brain tumor removed. Posts there have become irregular and are never to be missed because who knows how many more posts there will be. 

This week's Mirror is about the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, and how the Great Lakes really seem to the people who live near them like an inland freshwater sea, because they're so big and can form ocean-sized waves and storms. The sudden storm that sank the massive "Fitz" ("As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most") was not technically a hurricane, but it behaved like one. It's an interesting topic for a forum discussion, and of course, given the crowd who hang out at that site, the discussion branches off into news items and the history of popular music and some people's pedigreed pets and some people's animal rescues and who knows what-all. Great fun...on Veterans Day...remembering a shipwreck and the Great War...

Then a link at the Mirror led me past Scott Adams' vlog during his live chat time. As regular readers/listeners know, he's going through treatment for cancer, too; who knows how many more posts his vlog will have, too, but he's trying to reduce the pain by making each post funny and really worth listening to. 

Then it was time for a "Meet the Blog Roll" post, and...I deleted BarbarasBlog from the blog roll this morning but I found that I wanted to mention that it's been there, all these years 

We hear so much about how various new technologies make our lives better. I'm not so sure. Cancer was a rare disease, once.

I thought about my computers and the friends who gave them to me. Well, M, who gave me the "smart typewriter" with its floppy disks, is still alive and well; we were about the same age. A, who gave me the computer I sold--retired, moved to Arizona, had cancer. E, who built the older desktop computer I use--died in 2005 from cancer. Z, who gave me the Original or Practically Perfect Toshiba--died in 2018 from cancer. B, Grandma Bonnie Peters, who was part of this web site and who gave me the splendid HP laptop on which so much of this web site was made--died in 2020 from cancer. J, also known as Adayahi, who was also part of this web site and who inadvertently gave me the Piece of Garbage as well as its replacement, the Unsatisfactory Toshiba I'm using now--died in 2021 from cancer. The people who gave me the Sickly Snail, the newer desktop computer, and the funny mini-desktop computer are still alive, but. Still. I'm a cancer widow and sometimes the incidence of cancer among people I know, or used to know, feels overwhelming.

Can we keep on making progress? Can we put the things that cause all this cancer as far behind us as we think we've put the horrors of bubonic plague and tuberculosis? 

I hope so.

That is what Glyphosate Awareness is for.

Wednesday, October 29, 2025

Books I've Recommended

Long & Short Reviews asks reviewers which books we've recommended and why. Hello? That's what this web site does, pretty much. I recommend that everybody read books. For details about which books for whom, see the whole blog.

But can I recommend a sort of background reading list for the blog, for those who came in late and want to know which books have influenced the way I think, talk, and use words? Can I do a reasonably wordy Top Ten List?

Why not? In fact, how not?

1. The Bible, King James' Authorized Version

If you want to write in English, lack of familiarity with this Book of Books is a handicap. If you want to understand the way I write and think, it helps to begin with documents that presuppose that your mental health is normal, your self-serving bias is strong, and most of the time your ego needs deflation more than boosting. And I respect people's right to be what they are; I respect all sincere beliefs and both read and recommend some books from other faith traditions, and this web site is not usually about specific religious doctrines, but this web site is Christian.

2. The Vision of the Anointed by Thomas Sowell

The more education we've had, the more we've heard about helping and serving Humanity. Well, some of what we've heard was actually inspired by a neurotic Frenchman who didn't have the personality to start a personality cult but spent his adult life writing the sacred scriptures for one he hoped someone else would found. And, in a roundabout and thankless way, a critical number of the world's educators actually did. (See The Hate Factory by Erica Carle. Auguste Comte was so far from being a charismatic cult leader that studying his life and writing is actually a good way to debunk the Secular Humanist influence we've all had.) Universities don't usually say they're dedicated to the teaching and practice of Secular Humanism as a religion, but they do quite a good job of teaching us that everything has to be written for a Secular Humanist audience. Anyway, whether we think of "Humanity" as the "real" God or good, or as a part of God's Creation toward which we as humans are most likely to be able to practice the discipline of Love, most of us need to be challenged to think about whether we can really help other people by indulging in a belief that we can know what they need, or can meet their needs in any other way better than by stepping aside and letting them meet their needs themselves. In the nineteenth and twentieth centuries other writers raised this challenge. Sowell said it best.

3. The Hillary Trap by Laura Ingraham

This analysis of where the twentieth century's left-wing feminism went wrong really deserved to have been written and packaged as more than an election-year book. Then again, while people are still kicking around Hillary Clinton's calling her political opponents "handmaidens"...Feminism is the belief that women are at least equally as valuable as men. In a world where most of the jobs people did called for male-type muscle, this belief was debatable. In our world, where nearly all the jobs that called for muscle are now done by machinery, it's not. We are all feminists; only a few of us bother to resent it. There is, however, no reason why our feminism needs to resemble Gloria Steinem's or Bella Abzug's or...Hillary Clinton's. In fact Mrs. Clinton's life is a good argument that we should rethink what they thought on at least the ten points raised in this book. There may be some point-scoring, some younger-sisters-gleefully-point-out-older-sister's-bad-examples feeling in this book, but I find it possible to read the book with empathy toward Mrs. Clinton.

4. What Are People For by Wendell Berry

In some ways this late-in-career book summarized the author's previous books, of which I'd recommend reading all that you can find. (They were bold and independent enough that they're not easy to find.) He wrote, often in specific and technical articles for Organic Gardening & Farming and Mother Earth News, about the benefit of living in a Green traditional way on ancestral land. He's been accused of being "patriarchal," but surprise...nobody minds when older people manage to be patriarchs, or matriarchs. Problems arise only when societies try to operate as if all families had been blessed with a patriarch or a matriarch, when in reality many are not. So in my part of the world, if you don't have a grandfather who can help with questions about and beyond how to cultivate your garden, you can borrow Wendell Berry. We've been blessed.

5. No More Wacos by David Kopel and Paul Blackman

For Americans who were conscious in the 1990s, the Waco and Ruby Ridge disasters, in which armed federal agents wrongfully killed innocent citizens, were a turning point. Many of us had accepted the rhetoric of what Sowell called "the anointed" about how a bigger government could help rather than harm people. In 1995 we saw the error in that line of thought: Human government must be made up of human beings who may be just as bad as the human beings from whom it's claimed that others need protection. This book summarizes those stories and several other true stories of government abuses, and outlines methods for constructive activism to add helpful checks and balances on unelected bureaucrats. (In the long run, I think Elon Musk may come to agree that he would have done more good in the US government by reading this book.)

6. How Children Learn by John Holt

He wrote a half-dozen more books on this topic, and a wonderful series of newsletters reflecting his ongoing pen friendships with actual children. (I was just a little too old to be one; my brother was one of those children.) Basically he argues that learning takes place in the moments when children are interested in something and are free to explore it in their own ways. Adults can and should stimulate children's interests in a wider variety of things than most do, not by pushing them through assembly-line-style courses, but just by hanging out and doing things with children and, when appropriate, showing the children how adults reach specific goals. Without some guidance children might never "discover" the alphabet or the multiplication table, but guidance is often more, not less, efficient when it takes the form of "I want to accomplish --. How am I going to do it?" rather than "Sit still, don't look out the window, and pay attention while I repeat what put your mind to sleep last week." I think all children who ever met John Holt liked him.

7. Pain Erasure by Bonnie Prudden

Most of us don't need "pain medication." We need what might be called "pain management skills." I use and recommend a whole library of books on this topic; my own pain management skills include breath control and stretching more than trigger-point massage. However, when I was gaining life experience in the factories near my home town, I saw a lot of laborers liberate themselves from repetitive stress injuries with the help of this first book on trigger-point massage. I've used these techniques on myself. I've used them on other people. They work. I've not used them, myself, to restore sight to the blind (actually it's more often a matter of getting eye test scores above the required level to do a job, or drive, or just restoring the person's ability to enjoy reading) but I know they can restore some sight to some people whose vision loss may reach a level called "blind." I have used the techniques to restore hearing to people with serious hearing loss, and to restore the use of arms and legs to people with disabling injuries.

8. Back to Eden by Jethro Kloss

In the history of naturopathic medicine, several of the biggest names appear in a single story. Sylvester Graham, an unhappy fellow, preached that young people could avoid the many horrible diseases that started with thinking about sex and (horrors!) masturbation by eating whole grains and regularizing their digestion. The reasoning behind this idiocy was that tuberculosis had reached North America, and at a certain stage of that disease some people were apparently obsessed with sex. Their care givers didn't want to inflame anything by saying it in so many words, but that's what can easily be read "between the lines." A lot of people hated Dr. Graham, though. 

Anyway, in the 1840s little Ellen Harmon, the miracle child who had apparently recovered from tuberculosis through a series of dramatic healing visions, endorsed what Graham said. Ellen and the man she married when she grew up, James White, inspired doctors from their Bible study group, notably the Kellogg brothers and Charles Post, to build "sanatoria" for people who had or thought they had tuberculosis. These were a sort of combination of primitive hospitals and spas. Actually a lot of trial and error went on; genius though Ellen Harmon White was, her visions did not lead her directly to everything medical science would learn about the immune system over the next hundred and fifty years. Her visions and her doctor friends' experiments did. If she was divinely guided, and she may have been, she was guided to respect the principles of medical science. Most of their "successful" treatments of tuberculosis, and cancer, led to long remissions but they did learn how to cure cardiovascular disease and diabetes. 

Young Dr. Jethro Kloss came to the sanatorium movement late, about the time Ellen White died (old, in Australia). His own "chronic obstructive pulmonary disorder" was probably just some combination of susceptibility to "colds" and mold allergies, but such conditions made people more vulnerable to pulmonary tuberculosis. Anyway Kloss made a career of treating patients' immune systems, using all that the Whites, the Kelloggs, Post, and many other doctors had learned over their lifetimes, and he wrote down what he learned about diet, exercise, rest, meditation, herbs, massage, and hydrotherapy in this exhaustive reference book for home nurses. There is also a Back to Eden Cookbook, written mostly by the doctor's daughter, to feed into the publicity cycle for her father's book, but Back to Eden is not a cookbook. It's an encyclopedia.

(I should mention that, perhaps because envious people didn't want to believe that little Ellen's lungs had self-collapsed during her visions, later on a young German called Charlotte Selver was able to collapse her own lungs using a self-hypnosis technique she later taught in the US as "Sensory Awareness." Ellen White was born too early to have documentation that she'd had tuberculosis as distinct from, say, a long hard time with pneumonia. Selver was not. In the 1970s one of Selver's students, Marylou McKenna, wrote the delightful Serenity Book about Sensory Awareness. It's hard to find now; in the 1980s I used it during my long hard time with post-vaccine "chronic mononucleosis," and I'd recommend it if people could find it.)

9. The Last Word: On the Gentle Art of Verbal Self-Defense by Suzette Haden Elgin

Not only are there people who don't understand why some people's conversation is so hard on their emotions. There are people who are hard on other people's emotions and don't know why--they just know that modelling their remarks on someone else's sounds "educated," perhaps as part of a regional accent, and has a devastating effect on the arguments, and the feelings, of their "opponents." I was one of those people when, around age twenty, I had the great good fortune to find this book in a public library. It explained exactly what some Marylanders hated about the kind of Maryland accent I'd let myself pick up at college, and how to fix that. Elgin acknowledged that some of the "She's so smart...that's why everyone hates her" routine is misogyny and/or other forms of bigotry, some is jealous envy, some may involve the "smart" person disturbing social hierarchies, but some of it is also a matter of simple rules of grammar that make those "nice knock-down arguments" into emotional abuse. In this book readers learn what makes some "unanswerable" utterances hurtful, and also learn to use the same rules of grammar to build arguments that are convincing but not so hurtful.

10. The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron

I'm no expert on how to write great books in English. I can teach people how to write and say things that will be easily recognized as English. I've written a lot of things in English. Most of them didn't sell. Many of them are available at this web site, free of charge, where some may say that they're not doing a great deal to "sell" me as a writer and should probably be suppressed. This web site is finally getting more daily page views than my Associated Content collection did. Some days ten times more, some days a hundred times more! Hurrah! But it's not bringing in thousands of dollars to go with the thousands of page views and it may be being fed into plagiarism programs for computers in the non-English-speaking countries from which so many views come. So, yes, one thing to be learned from my experience, Gentle Readers, is: If you want to keep this web site available, feed it now. You can feed it suggestions for topics (which may include links to your business site) or private requests for research, proofreading, copy-editing, or co-writing, all of which are preferred to "donations," but you need to feed it something in the form of US postal money orders.

Anyway, another thing to be learned is that, twenty-some years ago, Cameron put together a beautiful inspiring collection of beautiful inspiring tips and quotes for "creative" thinkers of all kinds. Hers was not the first, nor will it be the last, but it is the one that best states the need not only for daily practice of our Art, but for daily long brisk solitary walks that feed our "creative" brains. (Actually, if you can do it, I find the most effective way to keep those solitary walks from becoming encounters with all the deservedly unpopular pests and bores in town is to do them with another person, or persons, who understand that the idea is to be silent together. Maintain a healthy distance, don't speak, try to arrange that the people you can see as part of Nature on the road are people with whom you either don't have relationships beyond silent walking or are so close that you can always talk to them later in the day. The next best way is to walk before daylight or in the rain.)