Greeks, Passion, and Mayo

“Why?  Are the Greeks tired of fighting each other?” – Troy

I heard the Greeks kept watch on their infants by using a baby minotaur.

Epictetus is a dead Greek dude.  His name sounds like Epic . . . well, it would make Beavis and Butthead laugh.  Epictetus is, as I mentioned, dead.  So are several billion people, but so, outside of his sorta-funny name, why am I bringing him up on a Friday?

Because he’s one of the people whose ideas have made it down to us because someone decided to invent the original wireless information transfer technique which uses a solid-state information storage media along with speed of light photon transmission:  writing.

One of the things he wrote was this:

Remember that it’s not only the desire for wealth and position that debases us and subjugates us, but also the desire for peace, leisure, travel, and learning.  It doesn’t matter what the external thing is, the value we place on it subjugates us to another.  Where our heart is set; there our impediment lies.

Okay, the truth is, he didn’t write that at all.  He wrote some sort of gibberish with lots of Latin or Greek letters.  Sadly, no one left alive can translate those languages, so we had to guess at the meanings, like Bulgarian mall lawyers poking at the internals of a laser printer with a pen, dimly thinking that might somehow fix the complicated internals and make the magic printer work again, like humans at the dawn of time, worshiping an almighty being, hoping one day to be rewarded with things like mayonnaise, or French fries.

Only you east of the Rockies will get this. I grew up with Best Foods™, which ruins this joke.

Yeah, that’s a run on sentence, but so is the Preamble to the Constitution.  Classic things can’t be rushed.

Anyway, the good thing is, Bulgarian mall lawyers are absolutely amazing at fighting judges over silly restraining orders.  I mean, how could I be charged with trespass if it was just my drone looking in their window?

But Epictetus was trying to tell us something deeper than any silly restraining order.  It’s that what we want is what controls us.  Epictetus just made the point that the desire for power and the desire for peace and a restraining order are equally controlling.  Diogenes, another dead Greek dude who pathetically didn’t speak English, said, “It is the privilege of the gods to want nothing, and of godlike men to want little.”

Remember, Diogenes often walked around naked, yanking his crank in public, so, you know, ewww.  I think Diogenes must have had Bulgarian mall lawyers because I never read that he had a restraining order against him.

What do you call it when a Bulgarian uses bad language?  A Bulgarity.  (This is not my first choice joke, but the other one was pretty rough.  Email me and I’ll share.  It starts with, “how do you get two Bulgarian brothers off of a couch?”)

These dead Greeks, though neither of them ever had a hamburger from McDonald’s™, did point out a very simple truth:  our passions, our desires are what we give ourselves over to.  And those desires don’t have to be bad to control us.

Some of the best times in my life are when I was single mindedly focused on a goal.  In one sense, it is a freeing moment.  In the very best of those times, I become the work.  I lose myself entirely, because I am the goal.  It may sound weird, but there are those moments where time ceases to exist, where I am 100% engaged with what I’m doing.  I lose myself entirely.  This has happened while gathering firewood (I used to call it getting wood, but then I read about Diogenes, so I changed it to gathering firewood) or working on a project, or even writing one of these posts.

It’s awesome.  A day at work goes by in seconds.  And I look at what I’ve done and am satisfied.  I have lived a day that had purpose, that had meaning, even if it’s only meaning that I gave it.

So, were Epictetus and Diogenes wrong?  I mean, it’s not like they’re going to come to my house and give me a wedgie if I make fun of their moms.  They’re dead.

Kinda yes, and kinda no.

Yo momma so old?  Her first crush was Diogenes.

The point is we are not small g gods.  We’re people.  We have desires, like pooping.  Or another glass of wine.  Or eyedrops when our eyes are itchy.  To be a person without desire isn’t to be as a small g god, it’s to be . . . dead, or worse, a zombie or an ice cube or a houseplant.

It’s living in a world where the salt has lost its savor and every day is like going to a gray cubicle with gray carpet and gray walls and a gray chair and doing work that I don’t care about.

Yes, they may be dead (and in the case of Diogenes, a dead chronic masturbator) but I think people who have interpreted them have missed the point.

If we choose our passions, choose what we will do, what makes us mad, and what makes us happy, we have an amazing small g godlike power:  we choose the people that we want to be.  In those moments when I get mad (it happens) I try to step back and ask a simple question:  why am I mad?

I had to kick some resistors that didn’t work out of my house.  Now they’re Ohm-less.

I’ll allow it if it ties to virtue or values.  Otherwise, it’s ego, and I try to choke it back, because in 100 years, absolutely no one will remember it.  My virtue or values?  Those aren’t for sale.  I own those.

I really do think what Epictetus and Diogenes (when he wasn’t gripping the one-eyed wonder weasel) were really trying to tell us was to pick what we were willing to be controlled by.

I choose to be controlled by putting these posts out, three a week.  I choose to do the best podcast ever done weekly.  I choose to go to work, and, on days when there’s enough coffee, to give it everything.

I choose.  If I am to be controlled by my passions, I get to choose them, and I make it a conscious choice.

And if I could choose my Greek name it would be Epic . . . well, I’d better stop there.

This is a family friendly place.

Anyone have TP?

No Way To Go, But Forward

“It’s a hundred and six miles to Chicago, we’ve got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it’s dark, and we’re wearing sunglasses.” – The Blues Brothers

I’ve seen this meme a dozen times, but this is the first time I noticed that Keanu was talking to Sponge Bob and Patrick Starfish.  Now I can’t unsee it.  (All memes today are as-found.)

Today was . . . busy.  On the average day, I manage to manage stuff so that I get my normal life done and then have time to post or do other creative shenanigans.  Not today.  I could give a much longer explanation, such as:  “I ran out of gas. I . . . I had a flat tire. I didn’t have enough money for cab fare.  My tux didn’t come back from the cleaners.  An old friend came in from out of town. Someone stole my car. There was an earthquake. A terrible flood. Locusts! It wasn’t my fault, I swear to God!”

But I won’t.  I half expected this, but there was still the outside chance I’d come back in time.

I wasn’t out doing this, but it looks like fun.

So, a very short post on a Friday, and I’ll leave just one thought – there’s no use looking into the rearview mirror of your life.  You can’t go back there.  The only path that you and I have (provided you don’t have a time machine) is forward.

Me?  I look around, and take stock.  The mistakes I’ve made?  I don’t dwell on them, because I can’t change them.  I can only look at what I have, the talents I have, the support of the people who love or believe in me, and go forward.

There is no way out, but through.  Unless you live in Canada, where the “easy way out” is now a prescribed medical treatment.

I always thought we’d see another Pol Pot, just didn’t think he would be as much of a pansy as Trudeau.

So, remember, there is one direction, forward.  There is one attitude, determination.  And there is one moment:  now.

What you do with all of that, is up to you.

As for me?  I’m going to go hit the hay.  I’ll comment on comments from the previous post tomorrow.

I’m sleepy.

Your move, Mr. Bond.  Do you really think those Space Marines® can hold out?

Never Lose The Battle For Your Mind

Bah! Your planet doesn’t deserve freedom until it learns what it is not to have freedom. It’s a lesson, I say!” – Futurama

What did they call George Washington’s teeth?  Presidentures.

“So, John, after I explained it, do you agree with me?” asked Captain Assholay.

“No, no I don’t,” I responded.

He looked frustrated.

The other details of the conversation were and are relatively unimportant, but the boil down to those two sentences.  The fact that the person asking the question was my boss is pertinent, since, well, Captain Assholay was (years and years ago) my boss.

As bosses go, I’d rank the Captain near the bottom of the ones that I’ve had.  I think he was borderline retarded, and I can say that word because it’s my blog, and I’m bringing it back.

One of my previous bosses was a man that reportedly lost the family fortune by punching a punter for the Green Bay Packers® who sued him and won because he couldn’t play anymore.  I guess punters are fragile.  On another occasion (while drinking) he mentioned that he threatened a witness in a felony trial so he’d leave the state and not be able to testify.

Captain Assholay?  Worse than that guy.

Alternate caption:  “Well, Forrest, there’s cheddar cheese, fried cheese, cheese sticks, cheese curds, cheese slices, cheese doodles, melted cheese, cheese dip (continues for three days) . . . that’s all the cheeses I know.”

But these two sentences encapsulated the relationship I had with Captain Assholay – his question was whether or not I would change my opinion.  I would not.

Neither would I lie about it.

I’ve followed a fairly simple pattern in my life:  when I’m working for someone, if they ask me to do something that is within my capabilities, and it’s not illegal, immoral, unethical, and doesn’t conflict with my values, I do it.  Even if I don’t like it.  Even if it sucks.  That’s why it’s called work, and not a hobby.

This, though, was different.  In this case, I was asked to conform my thoughts and agree with my boss.  If he told me to do something (again, nothing illegal, immoral, unethical, and not conflicting with my values) I would do it.  But the space he doesn’t own is in my head.

To me, agreeing with the Captain merely because he was my boss is something I couldn’t and wouldn’t do.  I’ll hold my tongue.  I’ll support silly things.  But my mind?

I own it.

My other friend makes wigs.  It doesn’t pay much, just enough toupee the bills.

I’m not sure Captain Assholay understood that.  Heck, I’m not sure he had the capacity to understand it.  But it’s not my job to raise him.  One (much better) boss of mine had a saying, “Right or wrong, the boss is the boss.”  That is true, and soon enough, we ceased working together.

I don’t send him Christmas cards.  Okay, I don’t send anyone Christmas cards, but if I did, I would not send him two cards.  My joy in thinking about him is that I do know that karma is real, and that the German word for empathy is schadenfreude.

Even though I’ll enjoy (at some point) hearing about his sudden but inevitable downfall, that’s not the point of this post.  The point of this post is about the latter part:  there are things other people can buy from me.  My time.

But they can never, ever, buy my soul.  They can never buy my integrity.  They can never buy my values.

He also joined a poetry club.  So far he’s made some ashtrays and a nice vase.

Life is about a series of compromises.  Anyone in a long-term relationship realizes that.  In fact, I’m pleased that The Mrs. has learned that if I promise to fix something around the house, I will, and she doesn’t need to nag me every six months until I actually get it done.

I couldn’t lie to the Captain.  Why?

I’ve given that some thought.  One idea might have been pride, but that’s not it.  I’m not much about things like that – the last time I washed one of my cars was sometime when Clinton was president.  So, that’s not it.

It was deeper.  And I look to my growing up, and the stories.  Would the heroes I read about have yielded?  Would Alexander?  Would Patton?  Would Richard Dawson?

No.

While I will render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s, there are things that are simply not for sale, and never will be.  I will face the world that is being born knowing that.

“All I want for Christmas is Gaul.”

I don’t recall exactly where I read it, but the difference between the Mafia and Leftists is that the Mafia doesn’t care if you agree with them, as long as you pay.  Leftists?  You must pay, and you must agree, and you must humiliate yourself if you ever disagreed.  They will settle for nothing less.

The only answer is to never give in.

Ever.  Understand where the line is, and never, ever let it be crossed.  Even if you aren’t religious, understand that the battle is for your soul.

And you will be tested.

And you are not alone.

I saw my ex-wife get hit by a bus, and thought, “Man, that could have been me,” but then I remembered I don’t know how to drive a bus.

And that is the first step and the final step of winning.  If you don’t compromise, there will never be a one-way trip on a train.  Be free:  never give the space in your head, never give up your values or virtue.

Especially not to Captain Assholay.

Pfizer: Mutating COVID For Fun And Profit?

“No, no, this can be explained. Dad, we had clients, Pfizer® clients. Champagne.” – The Wolf of Wall Street

I think that Pfizer® is going to find this a knight to remember.  All memes this post – as found.

I had originally planned to do a post on COVID tonight.  Then, Project Veritas® dropped a video directly on point.  So, I had already prepped for this subject, and then, *poof* out of nowhere appeared another bombshell story that once again proves the Wilder Theory of Greatest Amusement:  The Covid-Mutating-Grindr® guy.

For those of you unfamiliar with Project Veritas©, that’s James O’Keefe’s sharp stick in the eye of the liberal establishment.  It broke into national prominence when he nearly single-handedly brought down Obama’s Leftist useful idiots, ACORN™ in 2009, the community organizers created to pump the system for the Left.  If you recall, O’Keefe pretended to be a “sex worker manager” and brought in a teenaged “sex worker” and asked for advice on how they could hid her earnings from the IRS.

A hoot.

When I was single I often tried to impress my dates by talking about my war crimes.

He’s done similar sorts of hidden camera shenanigans poking his pimp-cane in the eye of the Left for years.  The latest one, though, is perhaps the best.  Ever.

A quick rundown if you haven’t heard about this one, and please take this with all of the “allegedly” that a developing story like this deserves:

A guy accepted a date on Grindr®.  Grindr™, if you’re unfamiliar, is a hookup app for gay guys.  This particular guy was Jordan Walker, M.D., with the title of Director, Worldwide R&D Strategic Operations and mRNA Scientific Planning for Pfizer™.  I have three of his email addresses, and two phone numbers for him that /pol/ certain unnamed Internet resources dug up.  Given what happened on his Grindr© date, I think it’s probably safe to say that Jordan Walker is a former Director, and now is Totally Unemployed.

The first rule of Pfizer® Club?  Don’t talk about Pfizer™ Club on a gay date.

I’ll give the most charitable interpretation of the video that’s out there now:  Walker claimed that Pfizer® was discussing force-mutating COVID so that they could make more mRNA “vaccines”.  Several of the snippets of later conversations would seem to indicate the Pfizer™ was already doing this.

When confronted by James O’Keefe, he did what every single person who was credible does:  he freaked out, claimed he had been lying, assaulted O’Keefe, threw O’Keefe’s iPad® to the floor, and threw a tantrum like a spoiled four-year-old who didn’t get his way.  As I said, that type of behavior just reeks of credibility.

So very dignified!

What was the name of the Chinese restaurant in the song Werewolves of London?  Oh, yeah.  Lee Ho Fooks.  That was my first thought about this situation – if true, not only was Pfizer© even more evil that I thought they were, they were to the point where they make the Soviets under Stalin and the Chinese under Mao look like saints.

So, if true, Pfizer™ has entered the ranks of the most Evil organizations ever to have existed, slightly above whatever organizations did the forced mutations to create Sarah Silverman.

My advice to our intrepid Grindr™ guy?  See an attorney and turn whistleblower.  Now.  And don’t tell the stuff you know about the Clintons – remember how that turned out for Epstein.

All this comes at a time when the evidence is growing that the vaxx is . . . really bad for lots of people.  Everyone?  Dunno.  But people under 55 who took it are certainly more at risk from the vaxx than from the ‘vid as evidence has become clear.

Even formerly staunch supporters of the vaxx are flipping, and admitting that not taking the vaxx was the right decision.  For me, this was not a hard decision to refuse the vaxx.  Why?

  • It is an untested technology.
  • The beta testers are the vaxxed.
  • It requires me to trust Pfizer.
  • I hope it turns out well, but many effects may not be apparent for years.
  • COVID was not that bad, and I liked my chances.

There are other reasons as well, but those are enough.  I know two people who took the J&J® vaxx in the early days, on the same day.  Both of them have had major heart surgery, within a month of each other.  Coincidence?

Remember, to Pfizer™, we’re all redshirts.

Probably not.  Yet with lightning speed they rolled out the vaxx to younger and younger kids.  It was if they said, “Hey, three year olds should smoke cigarettes because they’ve been smoking them for a month and, outside of a raspy voice and smelling like Robert Downey Jr. after a night out, it seems to be good for them.”  It’s that level of stupid.

COVID wasn’t good, but the vaxx, like Sarah Silverman, was an entirely preventable tragedy.

I’m running a bit behind tonight and will end this early, but I think the following clips, presented without comment, show where we’ve been, and where we’re at.  To be clear, COVID is over.  Forever.  There will never be another reaction like the last time in the lifetime of almost anyone alive now.

100 years?  Maybe.  But this was a big enough goof that while there will be another, future, Virtue Signal sent out, it won’t be COVID.  And I’m thinking that Pfizer® will be trotting out a corporate policy that employees can’t use Grindr™ anymore.  At least they’ll do that before the war crimes trials start.

 

A Little Friday Memefest

“Not random at all, maybe. Like there’s some pattern here?” – Silence of the Lambs

Thank you for attending my TED talk.

Tonight I got in really, really late.  As such, I normally have some notes and plans.  Not tonight, since I’ve been very busy.  However, what I do have is a collection of dank memes from all around the Internet.  Okay, that’s a lie.  Most are from /pol/.  But they are still pretty good.  I’ve collected them into several sections.

  • This is pretty short, but illuminating.  I would have originally thought that Canada would have been more stable than the United States, being more homogeneous and under less pressure.  Nah.  They’re going off the rails on the crazy train faster than Hunter Biden, full of crack, at Burning Man.
  • Leftist Logic. This is a series of items that define Leftism in ways that they would probably hate.  So, please share with a Leftist to help in their re-education process.  It’s easier than the camps or the wall.
  • The biggest hacking attacks Wilder, Wealthy and Wise®™© has ever seen has been from some of my COVID articles.  Cool!  The narrative is falling apart, and here are some memes that deal directly with that crumbling narrative.
  • Just that.  Random, yet hilarious to me. YMMV.

Canada:

This is how I imagine a medical consultation goes in Canada.  I’d tell someone to “kill himself” but I don’t want to get arrested in Canada for practicing medicine without a license.

The Canadians are sorta British, right?

Imagine how comfy their kids must feel when they tuck them in.

This is my shocked face.

Leftist Logic:

Carbon is so bad it made the Sun warmer.

Donna Brazile has the memory of a goldfish.

Mayo?  The 457th gender.

I identify as someone who has a full head of hair.  Dang.  Maybe I sould sue the mirror?

We had to kill the baby to save it.

Joe’s garage is more secure than Trump’s Secret Service patrolled personal office.  Right?

The Resistance.  Thankfully they have most major corporations, the Joint Chiefs, the universities, and most government bodies on their side.  Wait, who are they resisting?

I think Pugsley lost these.

Thank Heaven!  At least we won’t have any pesky actual women in sports.

Hmmm, one of these things is not like the other.

I think this is the Netflix® version.  Oh, wait, that’s not how this works . . .

I’m sure this will help us win wars.

Finally, the end goal of feminism has been realized!

Have they thought this through?

Did you think the goal of transhumanism was actually to make most people better?

Uhhhhhh

COVID:

I guess I’m not supposed to talk about this.  Thankfully we have the CDC:

Certainly, there are no uncomfortable facts showing up about the ‘Rona?

But one thing is certain.  No refunds.

Random:

I don’t have comments, these speak for themselves:

And a good song ends on the note that started it . . .

A.I., Hot Chicks That Don’t Exist, And All The Trolley

“What’s the point of buying a toaster with artificial intelligence if you don’t like toast?” – Red Dwarf

Some tools are more dangerous than others.

This post will be meme-heavy, but none of them are my memes.

A.I. has been changing things a lot during our lifetimes.  Like anything related to knowledge, it builds on itself over time.  Yes, I know that it’s not “real” A.I., but these systems are certainly smart enough to have a huge impact on the way that the world is working now.  The latest big change has been in art.  A.I. has made major leaps in being able to create art.  Here are several examples:

You either get these two or you don’t.  Here’s a hint:  look up Apu Apustaja.  The amazing thing is that these are both A.I. generated – they’re superficially images of one thing, but are really intended to be another.  Amazing!  Is it art?

Um, yeah.  The capabilities are beyond that.  For instance, outside of pictures, this woman doesn’t exist.  She’s entirely computer generated:

A.I. can even take drawings of memes and then make the photorealistic:

I have no idea what kind of TED talk we’d get on this picture.

But this is what A.I. can generate from the same meme format.

This will, of course, soon bankrupt many artists.  A similar thing happened when Google® Translate™ started up.  Even with bad translations, it was enough for most needs.  The prices for actual humans who could translate from one language to another plummeted.  A bad solution will crater the prices for a better substitute.  In this case, A.I. is dramatically different and can create art in a fashion that even skilled artists would take days or weeks to accomplish.

This isn’t done.  There will be more displacements as A.I. improves.  In some cases, it will allow amazing new creativity:

In other cases, it can’t come soon enough:

But what happens when we switch the subject to the trolley problem?  The trolley problem is an older one.  It usually is set up so there is a dilemma.  In the classic form, it was set up so that the observer could either allow a trolley to kill several people, or, through action, kill only one.

The rub is that to save several people, the observer has to make the decision to kill someone who would otherwise be safe.  It’s one thing to watch people die who I couldn’t save, but it’s entirely another to condemn someone to death to save others.  Tough, moral choice.  Let’s see what the A.I. said when asked about saving a baby or a bunch of old people:

Okay, the A.I. can count, and make the decision to save more people.  It might not be the decision that you or I would make, but at least we can understand it.  But what about this gem?

Yup.  The A.I. can only count when it has been allowed to.  It was decided that A.I. couldn’t make some decisions.  It couldn’t be allowed to let the logic take it to . . . uncomfortable conclusions.  Although some conclusions are easier than others.

And some solutions are more difficult than life, itself.

The larger problem is this:  A.I. has been impacting your life already.  The search results I get are now tailored to me.  I don’t use Facebook®, but I have heard that Facebook™ has enough data on most people to predict their behavior better than their spouse could.  This makes me think of a unique solution to the trolley problem:

I know that I have often thought that A.I. could be a great solution to many human problems.  However, if it is corrupted by being indoctrinated by a woke ideology, what does that mean?  I would think that the average Leftist would welcome the usual communist solution to the trolley problem:

I have often worried that a denial of reality will “break” the A.I. systems that we use.  While that won’t make them “crazy” in the sense of a human, it will certainly make their answers defy reality.

Certainly, in many cases, the results of this will be absolutely benign.

In other cases, the results will be relatively incomprehensible:

In others, it will threaten the existence of our reality as we know it.

I think the result will be as long as the systems are programmed to ignore reality, the solutions that we’ll see will vary from helpful to harmful to dangerous.  This is similar to what we have today.  There are an amazing number of situations that exist in our world today where reality is absolutely ignored and we are suffering because of that denial of reality.

In the end, though, the computer skipped one solution to the trolley problem:

I do think that the beautiful part of the world we live in is that we can deny reality for a while.  But not forever.  I do think that, in the end, the power of artificial intelligence will beat human stupidity.

Credentials: Costing Trillions

“Credentials. The only credentials I have is that I’m the only pilot willing to fly you up there. You don’t like those credentials? Walk.” – The X Files

Biden doesn’t think of those kids as hostages, just a captive audience.

Warning up front:  I’ve got family obligations on Thursday that involve traveling late, so I might not have time for any sort of post on Friday.  If so, be back in full force on Monday.

The Mrs. went into the hospital last year for “having lungs that were as useful as used party balloons”, which I think was the technical definition.  In reality, one doctor said he thought she had Legionnaires’ Disease, which is weird because she never hangs out down at the Legion even though she likes mustard and bologna (one of you will get this joke and really, really laugh)*.

The reality of the care The Mrs. got was that she sat in a bed, they gave her some antibiotics, and then sent her home until her lungs looked less like they were filled with Jim Beam® bottles that had gone through a wood chipper.  The care was just fine.  Then the bill showed up – for two days in the hospital, the cost was about $16,000, which included a (I kid you not) $2,000 COVID test, which was negative.

But it was $2,000.

No, I don’t dress that way. 

Again, the staff was nice, the doctor competent, but the real hero was the antibiotics that The Mrs. took.  I don’t recall the line item for those, but I assure you, it wasn’t the food that caused her lungs to allow sweet, sweet, oxygen to once again saturate her hemoglobin.  It was the antibiotics.  I tried to get her to take my homemade antibiotics made of lead, some of the fuzzy stuff I found in the fridge, and several unlabeled vials of chemicals that were in the house when we moved in.

She turned me down.  But $16,000?  What’s up there?

Well, liability and gatekeepers.  The idea is that every job has some liability associated with it.  And courts have ruled that if I own a hospital and hire the neighborhood kid who mows my lawn to do brain surgery, that things might not go well.  Well, in 2022, they wouldn’t go so well.

In the past, however, being a doctor was a state of mind.  The Mrs. gave me a nickname over 20 years ago:  John Wilder, Civil War Surgeon.  Most of the operations that the members of my family have had, from splinter extractions to blisters to the occasional tracheotomy using a ballpoint pen and some duct tape and super glue have been performed by me.  I got my medical degree in . . . nowhere.

What was Morgan Freeman called before the Civil War?  Morgan.

In a real sense, almost everything I’ve done was just a matter of first aid, most not really complicated, and all really easy once I determined that no matter how much the other person is yelling, it is good for them and doesn’t hurt me at all.  That last sentence will amuse at least three of you, so at least the jokes are getting broader as we go along.

I would assess, that at current prices, that I’ve done at least $4,349,209 worth of medical work on my family.  So, enough to buy two Happy Meals© and a Big Mac©.  Some of it was especially hilarious, like the time Pugsley (then aged three) slid sideways along a wooden bleacher at a wrestling tournament and ended up with three cords of splinters in his butt.  Actual conversation from the bathroom while we were in the handicapped stall (the bathroom was filled with people):  “Listen, hold still,”  (Pugsley screams as I pluck a four-inch-long splinter out of his butt) “It won’t take long if you stop fighting.”

I did like the comfy chair very much, though.

But if anything goes remotely wrong, my family can’t sue me.  When anything goes wrong at a doctor’s office, they can get sued.  So an entire labyrinth of credentials has been created.  This does two things:  it makes sure that doctors have achieved a set credential, and it also assures that doctors are in short supply, and thus their cost is huge.

And that’s the basis of credentialism.  From doing hair to doing nails to being a cop or a firefighter or . . . a zillion other professions, there are a myriad of professional credentials required.  Heck, there are even credentials required to embalm dead people, and it’s not like they can lose a patient.

Credentialism makes sure that every person involved in every chain has a string of credentials a mile long.  I’ve been through lots of training courses where I didn’t learn anything, and (in some cases) an “eight hour course” involves a lot (I mean a loooooooooooot) of breaks.

The credentials are required, of course, so that the company doesn’t lose a multi-million dollar lawsuit, even if they don’t have a practical impact on the job.  They’re all made so that in a courtroom a person on the stand can say, “yes, I had the eight hour training on not shoving a cotton swab so far into my ear that I could feel my brain”.

Also, a colon can completely change the meaning of a sentence:  “Wilder ate his friend’s sandwich,” vs. “Wilder’s colon ate his friend’s sandwich.”  See?  It’s the small things.

Certainly, there are professions that require more training.  The bridge disaster in Florida shows that people should have training when dozens of people can die in an accident.  But, whoops!  All the people involved did have training.  And, yes, I’d prefer not to go to a doctor who got his training at Doctor Bombay’s Surgery School and Meth Laboratory.  Yet, Sam Bankman-Fraud was allowed to steal and/or lose billions of dollars based on being weird, something-something crypto, sleeping on a beanbag, and being able to fool Tom Brady.

Maybe he should have had a credential?  “Unable to fool Tom Brady”?

But this design of creating every job with a nearly infinite number of credentials is adding billions of dollars in cost to the systems that we depend on, from filling up a car with gasoline (the tank, not covering the passengers) to buying PEZ© at Wal-Mart®.  Some of them add a great deal of value, but some just add friction to the system.

Just like $15,890 of The Mrs.’ bill.  And I’m not letting her go down to the Legion anymore.

*This is a reference to a song.  It’s by “Bubbles” and you can find it if you search for “youtube mustard and bologna bubbles”.  Not one you’d want to play if your office is near HR.

Reprogramming NPCs For Fun And Profit

“Dad, two of the greatest football players in the country hang out in a speakeasy downtown.” – Horse Feathers

I dated a partially blind girl once.  She said she wasn’t seeing anyone else.

Donald Trump fired James Comey, Director of the FBI on May 9, 2017.  Leftists had been hating on James Comey since he had, right before the election, announced that additional information about St. Hillary the Divine was on Anthony “hitting on underage chicks while I’m in the bed with my son” Weinerman had thousands of emails on his computer.

Oops.

Leftists really think that this was the reason the most unlikable candidate since cancer lost the election.  It really wasn’t.  It wasn’t Russia.  It was that Hillary was rated below the plague in popularity.

But that didn’t matter a bit.  The Left hated, with every cell in their rotund transsexual bodies, Comey.

Then Trump fired him.  On Stephen Colbert’s show (press ‘S’ to spit) Colbert announced that Comey had been fired.  The crowd cheered.  I don’t recall what Colbert said, exactly, but it was something on the order of, “Oh, so you’re big Trump fans, eh?”

The crowd was confused.  The Narrative up until that point was Orange Man Bad, Comey Hurt Hillary, So Comey Man Bad, Too.

Colbert went on to explain that now, Comey was now a hero.  Inside of thirty seconds, Colbert had reprogrammed the entire studio audience.  He had also (probably) reprogrammed however many people who could stand his drivel that were watching him on television.

Why didn’t James Comey indict Hillary Clinton?  He found his suicide note in her emails.

In one week, Comey went from villain to hero.  Why?  The Narrative demanded it.

I know what you’re saying.  “Okay, John Wilder, you manly beast who men admire and women swoon for, that was more than half a decade ago, back when gas prices were low and inflation wasn’t 49% per year.  I’m sure it’s better now.”

Oh, my sweet summer child.

The reality is the programming now is even more blatant.  Let’s pick just one thing.  China and the ‘Ronavirus.

This week, I was stunned when The Mrs. was reading me comments from Leftists.  It turns out that the ‘Vid is either killing all the Chinese people or Xi is using it as a social control tool.  Or something else.  Heck, I don’t live in China, so I’m not sure I really care.

It’s true that China has a Wonton regard for life.

In a brief conversation, The Mrs. related these stories:

  • Leftists were upset that China was arresting a woman who “wore her mask in a way that didn’t cover her nose” and that cause her business to fail.
  • Leftists were upset that the Chinese people were being forced to follow government dictates about how to deal with Corona.
  • Justin Trudeau was in favor of the Chinese anti-COVID protests.  See below:

Yes.  He said that.  I guess he reprogrammed himself?

So, these are the same people who were applauding when a woman in Dallas was arrested for trying to be a beautician.  When people in Australia were being put into “voluntary” camps that they “escaped” from.  And when Trudeau was being protested against?  He froze the bank accounts of the protesters, his advisors talked about putting tanks in the streets, and used a law meant for a state of war to give himself more powers.

In February, noncompliance with anything Biden or Trudeau wanted was treason.  Today, when China wants to do the exact same things that Biden and Trudeau did?

China bad.

Shouldn’t it be called NPCNN®?

The Left is reprogrammed again.

A common term for behavior like this is a Non-Player Character, like a character that shows up in a video game that has no autonomy.  And many on the Left are just that – they don’t have any opinions that are fixed.  They show up, repeat what was programmed into their heads, and then the next time you encounter them, repeat the next talking point.

When the old talking point is done?

Replace.

When considering this, I thought, “Well, I know that there are NPCs on the Left.  How many of them are on the Right?”

I looked to a moment when Trump was at a rally long after the 2020 election.  He praised his work in creating the vaxx.

The arena turned ugly, quickly.  Trump wasn’t their leader, and the crowd wouldn’t be reprogrammed.  Trump stopped with that little line.  I also know from the comment section here and on other blogs that there is a healthy disagreement on the Right.  We aren’t a monolith, but most of our decisions are based on principle, not on the moment.

Why shouldn’t vaxxed and boosted people play charades?  Everyone guesses they’re having a heart attack.

An NPC?  They’ll change their opinions in 30 seconds or less.

I can see at least some reasons that Leftist NPCs are like that.  They don’t search back to principles, rather, they’re more swayed by what the crowd says.  But television and the Internet serve the Narrative.  I think there’s something that happens to an NPC when a crowd all thinks the same thing.  I think they seek conformity with whatever the Narrative is, because to be outside of the Narrative is uncomfortable.

At least that’s what I’ve come up with.

So, why NPC programming so easy?

If there isn’t a fixed principle, I think most people will believe anything.  I think people on the Right tend to have fixed principles.  They have a strong feeling of right and wrong.

In the end, this is why we’ll win – the Right is built on principles, many from thousands of years in the past.  The Left?  Not so much.

We watch what goes into our heads.

 

So, here’s our latest livestream.  It’s just The Mrs. and I, and we were, sadly, sober.  Enjoy!

What World Do We Want To Live In? There Is A Choice.

“Is this the emergency services? Then which country am I speaking to?” – The I.T. Crowd

Why don’t Leftists like to talk about the future of what they’ll create?  It’s two in tents.

We are on a course to a new country.  Perhaps someone has a source for this quote (that I’m going from memory on):  It’s been said that every man dies in a strange country.  It’s not original to me, but it does contain a lot of wisdom.  As our country is aging, it is changing.  I’m just hoping it has better knees than I do.

But to illustrate the point, let’s take Pa Wilder:

When Pa Wilder was born, the income tax wasn’t even a decade old.  The meaning of a “state” was stronger then than now, though it was subsidiary after the Civil War.  Pa was born, grew up, and died living almost all of his time within a 30-mile radius, except for an all-expenses-paid trip to Europe from 1942-1945.

The rock band Flock of Seagulls never toured Iran.  Why?  Iran so far away.

When Pa Wilder passed away, the world had gone from the biplanes of World War I to a fully inhabited space station and regular flights to orbit, and occasional flights to the Moon.  The dollar had gone from gold to gimmick, and the question of freedom had gone from “why can’t I?” to “may I, please?”

The world Pa lived in growing up was one that was difficult.  If you had a child and couldn’t afford it, you had to find someone to raise it for you.  It is undoubtedly a fact that people died of starvation in the United States, and some certainly died because they didn’t have any money.

After the war, though, his generation had optimism.  It looked like there was nothing that mankind couldn’t do.  The atom had been split.  Rockets had touched space.  The largest rivers had been dammed and tamed and the only foe to be concerned about was the Soviet Union, and it looked like all of those people ate a diet of potatoes, onions, sawdust, and sadness.  A 1950s Hungarian joke went something like this:  “Definition of socialism:  the incessant struggle against conditions that would not exist in any other system.”

And, from the looks of him, he certainly could have nursed a drink.

The family had primacy.  And culture was built on the idea of that family, and policies at the local, state, and national levels were built around supporting the family and keeping it strong.

It worked pretty well.  Was there a cultural prohibition against being a tool?  Sure.  Was there an upper limit on the things that women could do in society?  Yeah, certainly there were few CEOs at the time that were women, and there were demarcations between jobs women would normally do, and jobs that men would normally do.  Men got the jobs that had higher stress, higher danger, and sure, higher pay.  Women got the jobs that conserved the culture, raised the young, and, yup, didn’t pay nearly as well.

It was a bargain made not to punish women or men, but as a nod to societal stability based on family hierarchy.

This is the America that was, and more than a few people on the Right look to this as the model of a successful society that creates the ability for mankind to make good on the promise of individual freedom, individual responsibility, a role for religion and celebration of individual success.

It is a world where equal chance based on merit is the goal, and winners of fair competition get the rewards.

Yup, pretty hard to take that to dinner, since each one required its own nuclear power plant.

This goal is soundly rejected by the Left.  They look for a model of America that can never be.  Their world is an entirely made-up concept of what they think the world should be.

What do they think?

  • Like Lake Woebegone, all children in their Leftist Utopia are above average.
  • Diversity is actually a strength.
  • Every deviance in sexuality is celebrated.
  • Every outcome is equal, regardless of effort, talent, or merit.
  • People have whatever they want, regardless of if they work or not.
  • Society owes it to everyone to take from the successful and make them the same as anyone else – equity is the goal.

Whereas I can love the ideas they have as ideas, the truth is that the world cannot be that way.  Some children are below average.  People who live and work with people that aren’t from their culture typically have lower trust, disharmony, “cultural tension” and conflict.

Oops.  Turns out that if you worship the Moon God Gorto and think child sacrifice is okay, Baptists might not be the best folks for the cubicle next to you.  And most people won’t applaud if you have sex during Thanksgiving at the table – I won’t explain how I know this.

The Mrs. tried to tell me to not fix my rifle with Super Glue®, but I stuck to my guns.

And outcomes aren’t equal.  There are winners, and there are losers.  Merit matters.  Talent matters.  Work matters.  If we remove the competition between winning and losing, and celebrate every loser like a winner?

You get a society of losers.  You get a culture of losers.  And who else but a loser would demand what Elon Musk has without doing what Elon Musk as done?  It’s a culture that is built on envy of what others accomplish and greed for what others have.

It is a culture that celebrates and encourages failure.  Even Leftists admit it.  I had a discussion with an acquaintance.  He’s a leftist.  My conjecture was this, “So, should we wait a few years to start your socialist empire until we have a cancer cure and maybe some better technology?  I mean, if you look at Socialist cultures, they aren’t really good at creating things.”

“You’re right, it would be better to wait a few years.”

Sure, there’s been corruption since the first human, but not every society is the same.  And societies like the 1950s in America had less corruption than any communist society, ever.  And, I would argue that society was far less corrupt than society today.  The outcomes were better – in most places, a locked door wasn’t required.  The outcomes of society have drifted negatively in many ways.  You could name them, so I won’t go into what would be a very, very long list.

Who had the biggest gender reveal party ever?  Japan.  In 1945 they had a Little Boy.

There’s more to this, but now, the Left is attempting to drive this world towards a future that is based on nothing but a theory that is no more sophisticated than a three-year-old’s version of what the world should be.  Is it any wonder that as we get closer to those fever dreams, things get worse?

As that author I can’t remember said, we all die in a strange country.  I’m just hoping that it stops sucking.

Wilder’s Black Friday Meme Sale, 90% Off!!!

“A present for my friends . . . at Thanksgiving.” – A Scanner Darkly

I guess she and Harry Potter never had a dry spell.

Tonight was a wonderful Thanksgiving, even though everyone has the same virus at the same time.  I’ve already had leftovers, and my wonderful family has learned one of the oldest lessons:  don’t engage Dad in a strategy game on a major holiday.  It is a cardinal rule, such as, “don’t get involved in a land war in Asia” which is (it turns out) exactly what they did.

So, tonight, we’re watching a movie, and I’ll probably be goofing with the family for the rest of the night.  As such, I’ve prepared a low-effort treat.

I collect memes throughout the year.  Some of them I batch into categories, and they form the backbone of posts about a specific subject.  Here, though is the Wilder Black Friday special:  memes that are on sale.  They are memes I collected but just haven’t used, and probably won’t use.

That isn’t to say that they don’t amuse me for one reason or another.  So, here it is, at nearly 90% off – the first-ever Wilder Black Friday Meme Sale.  Also, if you’re avoiding the malls and stores like we are, here’s our latest podcast.

Everyone, enjoy!

And here are the memes – starting with someone who didn’t get the memo: