The Old Gray Mare, She Ain’t What She Used to Be
Maybe we did dodge a bullet this time, but do you hear that metallic clicking? That’s the firing squad, reloading.
I Hereby Order … Oh, Never Mind
I don’t want to be That Person, the one who complains about Southwest Asia call centers, but there were, ah, accent difficulties on both sides.
This Epstein Thing
I don’t want to believe anybody who ever knew Jeffrey Epstein was complicit in forcing minors into sex. But if the investigation survives his suicide and it turns out some or all of Epstein’s acquaintances and friends were complicit, well then let the guilty be named and judged.
Saturday Bag o’ Conspiracy Theories
I have a sinking feeling the story’s going to fizzle away now, at least as far as the media is concerned, and Trump & friends will continue to skate. I hope I’m wrong. But I fear I’m right.
Sunday Bag o’ High-Velocity Rounds
Guys with guns. There’s your problem, America, right there.
Sunday Bag o’ Sputnik
I have an older but sharper memory of Grandfather Estes dragging me and my sister Sue outside one night to see something that had never seen before. It was October 1957, and the Russians had just launched Sputnik.
Thursday Bag o’ Psychological Toll
I’ve been reading about the content moderators who review objectionable content posted to social media, and the psychological toll constant exposure to “the Internet’s panoply of jerks, racists, creeps, criminals, and bullies” takes on them.
Here Be Bitmojis
I joined a closed Facebook community called “A Group Where We Pretend to be Boomers.” As you’d expect, members are baby boomers who make fun of themselves by posting as if they don’t understand the first thing about computers, email, the internet, and social media. To me, that’s more of a “greatest generation” thing, but I do know boomers my age who fit the stereotype well. But hey, isn’t Facebook mostly a boomer thing anyway? Aren’t all the youngsters on Snapfilter or whatever?