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Tag Archives: n.e.s.

2021 0124 nes171

What this quasi-fable is really about is the way we magnify things. I plowed a little of this ground in one of my earliest blog posts, but another peek through the magnifying glass couldn’t hurt.

Did a fly affect the 2020 United States Presidential election? Is it really a good idea to put a marriage proposal on the Jumbotron? Is Bernie Sanders still the same guy he was before his seated mittened image got ubiquitized? What does all this say about us?

Once Laurence Olivier and Dustin Hoffman were having dinner, and Hoffman asked Sir Larry what lit him up as far as acting goes, and (if memory serves; I’ve been trying to find the Hoffman interview and so far no dice) Olivier said, “My dear boy, it’s like this…” and he gently grabs Hoffman by the back of the neck and pulls him till they’re eyeball to eyeball and continues, “Look at me, look at me, look at me.“

Scrutiny has gotten screwier and screwier lately. I don’t envy people in the spotlight. Skilled editors would be able to take all the raw video footage of my life and make two intensely entertaining movies, one that would make me look like a Hero, the other like Hellspawn. Dear reader, how about you?

Tip of the hat to the late Martin Gardner, polymath and numbers man who wrote the “Mathematical Games” column for Scientific American for many years. This page is really about Luck, and posits that there is no such thing, good or bad. There’s just good and bad and in between, in shifting emulsification. –Maybe. What the Hell do I know?

2020 1214 nes 169

Yesterday at 5:11 AM Mountain Standard time my mother, Jane Bowers Stoneman, declared victory over suffering and dementia by shuffling off this mortal coil; or, as Shakespeare also put it, [Dies.]. I had started grieving for her some days before she stopped breathing, because the quality of her life had been declining, and the rate of decline was accelerating. It is heartbreaking that the end so often takes that shape. I will miss her terribly the rest of my life, and honor her memory, but I am glad she is shed of all her pain, frustration and sorrow.

I’d been working on this page and was about 2/3 finished when Mom died. I know my mother’s mind to the extent that she’d want me to plug away, finish this piece, and begin the next one, and so I’ve struggled all day to do what should have taken a couple of hours at most. It STILL could use some work, but there’s a significant chance that anything else I do at this point will make it worse rather than better.

This one’s for you, Mom, flawed as it is. Your loving son continues his journey. Please keep up the cheerleading as always.

2020 1212 nes168

Friends, it’s November 17, 2020, and Phoenix, Arizona has recorded a temperature of at least 90 degrees Fahrenheit. In all Arizona’s recorded history, there has never been a day this hot this late in the year.

The lady of indeterminate age and race in the image below advises us that some truth may be had for those who do a search on “radiative forcing equation.” It is scary. Many more of us need to be scared now, or we are headed for an Inferno.