The surest way to lose my cooperation is to accompany the demand with a phrase like “you must”, “you are required to”, “it’s the law”, etc. – “Off the Green”
Some of life’s greatest pleasures are pleasant precisely because they’re so ephemeral; if rainbows were always a feature of the sky, few would ever bother to look up at them in wonderment and appreciation.
– “Diary #663”
Baby-step reforms…are mostly intended to distract activists and hush timid human rights campaigners. – “Lack of Evidence (#1421)”
[Trump] wants to make the US status as the world’s cop official, complete with the cop power to terrorize whoever he likes on a whim without anything resembling consequences. – “Client Kingdoms”
If you’ve never had another living creature under your care, you may never have considered how much time and effort is spent dealing with their poop. Babies need to be changed several times a day, and if you’re in a city dogs need to be walked (out in the country they just let us know when they want to go outside); cat boxes need to be cleaned about twice a week, and henhouses need to be “mucked out” twice a year. That means using a shovel to remove all the “poultry litter”, which is merely a concise term for the revolting mixture of decaying hay or shavings, molted feathers, spilled food, and fecal matter which builds up on the floor over time. I generally do it in March before I get the nursery ready, then again in September or early October as it begins to turn cold. But when I did it last autumn it really wore me out (like any shovel work, it’s rather strenuous), so a couple of weeks ago I decided to start filling just one bucket every day (when I go in to check feed & water and collect eggs) and dumping it on the compost heap; that way the work is spread out so as to be less exhausting and less odious. While the chicks are still in the brooder, their poops are generally so tiny it’s no big deal to clean the shavings every week for the three weeks they’re inside; once in a while a chick gets a turd stuck to her butt-feathers, but it’s typically easily removed with fingernails (if you’re a parent you’ve touched worse, and there is such a thing as “soap” when the task is done). But this time one of the chicks arrived with a hardened mass of feces; I’m told this is called “pasty butt” and it can actually kill them if not removed, because their vent gets clogged. And it’s not easy to remove; it’s so hard and baby chicks are so fragile that one can’t simply pull it off, which means filling a basin with warm water and dipping her butt into it to soften the mess before removal. Once I was done I got to see and hear something one doesn’t encounter every day: a chick fart, as she squatted and emptied her chute with an audible “poot”. It has been a week since then and she seems fine now, so I think we’re past the danger. And I’m sure y’all enjoyed this fascinating discussion of literal chickenshit, so it’s a win all around.
Cool off, give [your husband] a break. – cop, just before woman’s murder
Since the Taliban doesn’t want anyone to hear these women play, it is my great pleasure to share the video as a big “fuck you”. The links above it were provided by Ryan Marino, Walter Olson, Nun Ya, Popehat, IncarcerNation, and Ryan Marino again, in that order.
I find paywalls distasteful, and so many people find this blog valuable as a resource I just can’t bring myself to install one. Furthermore, I find ad delivery services (whose content I have no say over) even more distasteful. But as I’m now semi-retired from sex work, I can’t self-sponsor this blog by myself any longer. So if you value my writing enough that you would pay to see it if it were paywalled, please consider subscribing; there are four different levels to fit all budgets. Or if that doesn’t work for you, please consider showing your generosity with a one-time donation; you can Paypal to maggiemcneill@earthlink.net or else email me at the same address to make other arrangements. Thanks so much!
It’s chick time again! I used to get my chicks at Tractor Supply, but they do first come, first served and a lot more people are buying chicks in the past few years than there used to be, so now I’m ordering them from the feed store over in the county seat. This year I got four Rhode Island reds; regular readers know I rotate the colors to make it easy to keep track of their ages (because chickens only lay for 2-3 years). Technically, last year should’ve been reds, but at the time I still had two reds and only one white, so I got whites last year (and the last one died a few months ago). Our last red died just recently, so it worked out almost perfectly; next year should be some dark color, though these blacks turned out to be disappointing layers, so I’ll need to do a little research on which dark-colored breeds lay as well as the reds and whites. But one way or the other, chick season always makes me smile every time I go into the bathroom where they live, and sometimes when it’s quiet I can hear their peeping through a closed door and all the way in the living room.
[Computer programs do] not understand “stakes” as humans perceive them. – Tong Zhao
When an especially-prolific musician dies, I often choose one of his lesser-known works as a memorial; this Neil Sedaka composition is quite different from the pop songs he’s known for. The links above the video were provided by Matt Welch, Popehat, IncarcerNation (x2), T. Greg Doucette, and Mark Bennett, in that order.
I find paywalls distasteful, and so many people find this blog valuable as a resource I just can’t bring myself to install one. Furthermore, I find ad delivery services (whose content I have no say over) even more distasteful. But as I’m now semi-retired from sex work, I can’t self-sponsor this blog by myself any longer. So if you value my writing enough that you would pay to see it if it were paywalled, please consider subscribing; there are four different levels to fit all budgets. Or if that doesn’t work for you, please consider showing your generosity with a one-time donation; you can Paypal to maggiemcneill@earthlink.net or else email me at the same address to make other arrangements. Thanks so much!
A few years ago, in “The Sparkle of a Star“, I wrote: “When I last watched [Bewitched], in my late teens or very early twenties, I naturally identified most with Samantha. But on this rewatch, I found myself identifying with her mother, Endora…” But Bewitched isn’t the only show about witches I’ve loved, and Endora not the only no-longer-young woman character I find myself increasingly identifying with as I myself progress into cronehood. Obviously, this isn’t surprising, but I do find it amusing.
I ran into another example of it recently when I decided to revisit Phyllis Reynolds Naylor’s Witch series. My own period of reading YA fiction was short, and largely confined to when I was 8 to 9; by 10 I was mostly reading light adult fantasy and sci-fi, mixed with some of the juveniles written by more typically adult authors like Robert Heinlein (Red Planet, Podkayne of Mars, etc) or those borrowed from the library by my younger siblings whose covers caught my eye (which is how I discovered one of my favorite books, Magic in the Alley by Mary Calhoun. And by 12 there weren’t many even in that category. So though I was of the right age to read Witch’s Sister when it was published in 1975, it never popped up in the Scholastic Books flyer we got at school, nor did I spot it in the library back then. In fact, I only discovered it in a rather roundabout manner, through my habit of scanning the new TV Guide magazine each week in search of anything I might enjoy (since in the days before home video, that was the only way to discover treasures). One week, in the spring of 1980 IIRC, I noticed a listing in the Saturday morning show Big Blue Marble (which I didn’t watch even before I gave up on Saturday morning fare) for a 6-part TV movie called Witch’s Sister. Naturally the title caught my attention, so I watched it and was immediately hooked; besides being an interesting story, I identified with both 10-year-old Lynn Morley (because I had a hyperactive imagination at her age also) and her 16-year-old sister Judith (because I was Goth before there was such a thing, and like her enjoyed spooking my younger siblings).
It only aired once or twice (I only saw it once) and I despaired of ever seeing it again, but during a short period when I had free premium cable in 1988 it turned up on Showtime as a unified TV movie. I of course taped it, and on a rewatch during my time as a librarian I noticed in the credits that it was based on a book; we had it in the library so I read and enjoyed it and its two sequels, which had been published in 1977 and 1978. Sometime later I transferred the movie to DVD and discovered several more sequels (published in the early ’90s) and bought them on Amazon, but never got around to reading them until recently. The reason was simple: after starting this blog in 2010 I had very little time for pleasure reading, and that only changed a year ago with Grace’s death. So for the past year, I’ve been scanning my shelves for books I own but had not yet read, and a couple of weeks ago realized I had never read those later books in the series. Since it had been over 30 years since I read the first three I started with them, and discovered to my amusement that while I still remembered feeling like Lynn as a tween and Judith as a teen, I now found myself more than a little sympathetic with Mrs. Tuggle, the elderly Englishwoman who was Lynn’s nemesis in the books! Though in the later books she was definitely a wicked witch, in the first (and IMHO the best) of the series that was portrayed with far less certainty (and in the movie which inspired my love for the stories, she was almost certainly not a real witch). So as I read, I started thinking about how I’d feel if a couple of nosy 10-year-old girls started making strange accusations, sneaking into my house to steal my things, and terrorizing my cat. And now I’m a bit wary of watching Bell, Book and Candle again.
A young rock is probably a good thing. – Derek Leung
Though Fred Smith left Blondie before their first album was recorded, I decided to feature this little-known, very weird, very punk song from their debut album because I’ve always liked it. The links above the video were provided by Nun Ya, Kevin Wilson, Jeremy Malcolm, Jesse Walker, Franklin Harris, Yasmin Nair, and Nun Ya again, in that order.
I find paywalls distasteful, and so many people find this blog valuable as a resource I just can’t bring myself to install one. Furthermore, I find ad delivery services (whose content I have no say over) even more distasteful. But as I’m now semi-retired from sex work, I can’t self-sponsor this blog by myself any longer. So if you value my writing enough that you would pay to see it if it were paywalled, please consider subscribing; there are four different levels to fit all budgets. Or if that doesn’t work for you, please consider showing your generosity with a one-time donation; you can Paypal to maggiemcneill@earthlink.net or else email me at the same address to make other arrangements. Thanks so much!
In the end, you don’t feel disturbed – you feel blank. – Monsumi Murmu
I wasn’t really a big Parliament-Funkadelic fan, but Grace was very fond of them; I think this is the sendoff she would’ve suggested for Billy Nelson. The links above it were provided by Dan Savage, Jesse Walker (x2), Mike Masnick, Nun Ya, Walter Olson, and The Onion, in that order.
I find paywalls distasteful, and so many people find this blog valuable as a resource I just can’t bring myself to install one. Furthermore, I find ad delivery services (whose content I have no say over) even more distasteful. But as I’m now semi-retired from sex work, I can’t self-sponsor this blog by myself any longer. So if you value my writing enough that you would pay to see it if it were paywalled, please consider subscribing; there are four different levels to fit all budgets. Or if that doesn’t work for you, please consider showing your generosity with a one-time donation; you can Paypal to maggiemcneill@earthlink.net or else email me at the same address to make other arrangements. Thanks so much!
For weeks, Democrats have pushed to require ICE agents to obtain the necessary judicial warrants ahead of any murders they plan to commit. – Hakeem Jeffries, sort of
I find paywalls distasteful, and so many people find this blog valuable as a resource I just can’t bring myself to install one. Furthermore, I find ad delivery services (whose content I have no say over) even more distasteful. But as I’m now semi-retired from sex work, I can’t self-sponsor this blog by myself any longer. So if you value my writing enough that you would pay to see it if it were paywalled, please consider subscribing; there are four different levels to fit all budgets. Or if that doesn’t work for you, please consider showing your generosity with a one-time donation; you can Paypal to maggiemcneill@earthlink.net or else email me at the same address to make other arrangements. Thanks so much!
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The surest way to lose my cooperation is to accompany the demand with a phrase like “you must”, “you are required to”, “it’s the law”, etc. – “Off the Green”
