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Here's A Story About One Of Those People That Does Not Have Money To Invest

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      He does not spend it on women, or booze, or movies. If you watch the story, it looks like he is just barely getting by.

      One of our local anchors does a spot called Eric's Heroes once a week, about people in the community he finds that are doing heroic things. This was the story he did this past week, about a simple man that does not have much, and yet, he wants his life to have meaning.

      http://komonews.com/news/erics-heroes/erics-heroes...

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      Snow Mo?

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          The (preliminary?) results are in; the tale of the tape is here; snow what? My good friend of longstanding, tennis player extraordinaire, fellow old guy (sorry, George), George Kuechenmeister , is now a Yabberzian (Yabberzite? Yabberzingian?). He's only a block away, so he probably got snowed on about as much as me. Please welcome him.


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          Why Swearing Sparingly Can Help Kill Pain

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              Swearing (sparingly)-- censors insisted on that choice of word..

              The benefit comes from occaisional and meaningful swearing. How occaisional may be a fair indicator of the amount of pain though too.

              Not everyone is hitting their thumb with a hammer every 5 minutes.

              http://healthland.time.com/2011/11/23/why-swearing-sparingly-can-help-kill-pain/

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              The Flight(s) Of Spaceship One

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                  The Flight(s) Of Spaceship One

                  A Personal Account

                  SpaceshipOne blasts toward the stratosphere October 13, 2004

                  By Ray Cunneff

                  November 28, 2017


                  At first, a Flat-Earther's plan to launch himself in his homemade, steam-powered rocket as early as this afternoon struck me as just some lunatic stunt most likely to get the fool killed and little else. But then he said something that pissed me off and brought back memories of one of the most significant personal experiences of my life.

                  But we'll begin the story with the crackpot...

                  It's not the fall that kills you, it's the sudden stop.

                  Sixty-one year old limo driver "Mad" Mike Hughes' plan to launch himself into space in his homemade garage-rocket to prove that the Earth is flat hit a snag last week. And he blamed it on "big government".

                  The Bureau of Land Management blocked his intention to launch his rocket near the Mojave Desert ghost town of Amboy, California because the town is on public land. Undeterred, Hughes said he’s found private property in the area for the launch and could reschedule for as early as this afternoon (Tuesday 11/28).

                  He came to believe his Flat-Earth theory after “research[ing] it for several months in between doing everything else". Hughes told the Associated Press, "I don't believe in science. I know about aerodynamics and fluid dynamics and how things move through the air, about the certain size of rocket nozzles, and thrust. But that's not science, that's just a formula."

                  On the morning of the launch, Hughes will heat about 70 gallons of water (steam is apparently a critical element) in a stainless steel tank and then blast off between 2 p.m. and 3 p.m. He plans to go about a mile, reaching an altitude of about 1,800 feet, before pulling two parachutes - not nearly high enough to prove anything about the curvature of the Earth. But he says it will be televised on the YouTube Channel.

                  Following his flight, Hughes intends to announce his candidacy for Governor of California. It remains to be seen if the announcement will be made posthumously.


                  Okay, so far, so funny. This fool could be launching his flying tea-kettle later today and will be lucky to survive his utterly pointless stunt, reaching an altitude of 1,800 feet, proving absolutely nothing about the curvature of the Earth.

                  Hughes says, "There's no difference between science and science fiction." Presumably, he'll also believe he has a time machine to return him to the hours before he was squashed like a bug on the desert floor. Very likely he'll be killed by a part of the Earth that is indeed quite flat.

                  The launch was originally scheduled for early 2016 beginning with a Kickstarter fundraising campaign “From Garage to Outer Space!”. Comparing himself to Evel Knievel, Hughes pitched it like a NASCAR event. However, his Kickstarter campaign raised only $310 of its $150,000 goal. Hilarious!


                  But then I read something that Hughes said that turned this preposterous stunt into something quite different than an object of ridicule. He said, “We want to do this and basically thumb our noses at all these billionaires trying to do this. They have not put a man in space yet.”

                  What??? Wait a second, I was there!


                  I broadcast live from Mojave Spaceport for the flights of Scaled Composites' Spaceship One, beginning in June of 2004. On October 13th, Pilot Brian Binnie reached an altitude of 354,200 feet thereby winning the Ansari X Prize for private manned spaceflight.



                  A joint venture of Sir Richard Branson's Virgin Galactic, Microsoft's Paul Allen and Burt Rutan's Mojave-based Scaled Composites, SpaceshipOne was conceived as the first step toward "space tourism", but 13 years later, with over 700 people having already purchased a ticket, SpaceshipTwo has yet to carry passengers into space. *

                  I covered three flights of SpaceshipOne at the Mojave Spaceport, broadcasting live from a location at the edge of the tarmac, with a spectacular view, particularly of the landing when the spacecraft rolled to a stop directly in front of me.


                  Pilot Brian Binnie holds a sign: "SpaceshipOne/Government Zero"

                  It was absolutely thrilling and hopefully I was able to convey that to the audience.



                  The White Knight mother ship carried SpaceshipOne to a drop-launch altitude of approximately 45,000 feet at which the spacecraft would ignite its solid fuel engine and carry it to suborbital altitudes in excess of 350,000 feet.


                  White Knight & SpaceshipOne

                  Earth not looking very flat

                  SpaceShipOne now hangs in the National Air and Space Museum in Washington D.C.


                  * In October 2014, ten years after the successful flights of SpaceshipOne, SpaceshipTwo suffered a catastrophic failure while testing a new propellant, exploded and crashed killing one pilot and critically injuring another.



                  "We’ve always known that the road to space is extremely difficult - and that every new transportation system has to deal with bad days early in their history. Space is hard - but worth it. We will persevere and move forward together."

                  -Richard Branson


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                  Pundit Post
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                      Camille Paglia dissects the emotion in her usual ascerbic way. Sometimes hard to digest but always an education.

                      PS Sorry, it looks like I was mislead by the lead

                      Some people, like the feminist scholar Camille Paglia, argue that art — no matter who created it — should be beyond the scope of punishment.

                      https://www.nytimes.com/2017/11/24/arts/charlie-rose-kevin-spacey-louis-ck-art.html

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                      Start Here

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                          Here it is a few days out from Thanksgiving, sitting around and reading the news and stories with my morning coffee. Gratitude is a funny camper at times and as much as I went over in my mind of what I am thankful for, I must have missed a few rooms off of the heart.

                          I, like many I have spoken with, have a certain underlying thoughts run wild; Do I even have a program? Am I doing this or just treading water better than ever? Those answers are only for the individual, and as this individual contemplates those things, the small miracles and gratitude steps in, comforting. This morning in all of the news and stories was one that caught my eye again. Someone I know has done well in their recovery, done better than many others in getting those people off of the streets here. In an area that has just raised the Opioid epidemic to the level of Natural Disaster, that is nothing short of miraculous and amazing.

                          http://q13fox.com/2017/11/24/recovering-homeless-addicts-in-everett-giving-the-hand-up-to-others-still-on-the-street/

                          Now I hardly see the guy who started this off so many years ago. In recovery we have our cliques too, but we do stay in touch enough to know when someone is in need. I was thinking about the first time I met him, it was when he was in a treatment program that I had finished just months earlier. I was an example, I was what happened when all of these suggestions are put to use. This man did take us aside and thank us afterward, I believe we were there twice while he was. It was what I was supposed to do, the next indicated thing, but it was a start. As the years pile up and you find yourself at the junction of what the hell do I do now? and this is hard work, the tides bring growth and sometimes setbacks. That grasping and manipulative mannerism, that tornado that you had become doesn’t work with an honest lifestyle. The conning and lying just don’t work when you have to tell the truth that you need whatever it is just to live. Realizing that you never learned that lesson in your wildness, never learned how that was done.

                          Sharing my story, that is how I stay sober. Expressing the very last feeling I had in the tank to get it out so that it doesn’t consume me. It, this, is what I do to keep the troubles at bay, to clarify my thoughts and to look upon where I went sideways in my lazy thinking. I am under the guise that I have a program, that I do what is expected of me. That when something is troubling me it is me who has an issue, not others, not things. That feeling of a compass going off point is a marker to wake up my lazy thinking and not do something, or do something differently. So the program works for me, it has instilled a series of checks and balances into an anarchy of my own making.

                          Over the years I have had the opportunity to speak to many people about this part of me. More recently as I started taking classes at the local Community College, my story came out pretty quickly when people wanted to know me, instructors and teachers etc… So when that first week ended and one of my classmates pulled me to the side, I wasn’t thinking very much about recovery, but there I go thinking again. He pulled me aside and in a very scared and shaking voice told me he had a year and half off of Heroin, bam! The idiot that I was congratulated him and gave him a hug, bam again! He had done it cold turkey and had never been to any meeting, gotten much help at all in fact. With an embarrassingly suck it up look, I started talking to him about life, and the program of recovery that I had used. Gratitude is a funny camper, as we entered the classroom following his share with me, we sat down next to another new friend. Now the kind of shots I have these days are called God shots, a drunk with happiness and intent when those happen. That new friend was a woman about the same age as my confessor, she readily revealed that she had eighteen months clean as well, through the very same program that I was involved in. I cried later that day when I thanked God for the assist.

                          I have a friend, whom I have never met that lives in Massachusetts who gives me some credit for his recovery. He said I gave him the impetus to go and find out what it was about. I talk to another friend in Sri Lanka about the dangers of overthinking and the problems that alcohol has had in our lives. I also have a kindred soul in Ireland and these are just a few of the ways I very greedily keep myself sober. I take no credit for anything in their recovery or the greatness they achieve. I simply and selfishly take joy in their persons, their life, their light.

                          I don’t always know why I do all the things I do. I often question what the hell am I doing here on this planet? I wonder and worry about everything from the state of the person to the state of the Union. I spread the news that there is another way of life for those who have not found the road yet. I bring them to the road when they are lost and I can assist them. Maybe a hand up for hundreds, or just a simple hug for a single life. I do the same for them all when I say that the first step begins with an understanding and, start here.

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                          An Empty-Nester Thanksgiving

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                              An "Empty-Nester" Thanksgiving

                              Breaking With Tradition



                              By Ray Cunneff

                              November 23, 2017


                              In our first "empty nester" Thanksgiving after 28 years, we're already breaking with tradition.

                              We've dispensed with the greasy, messy turkey altogether. No more brine bags that leak. No more slippery kitchen floor. No more worrying if the white meat will get too dry before the dark meat is fully cooked. No more worrying whether you're carving it like a surgeon or chewing it up like a lumberjack with a chainsaw.

                              No more turkey leftovers clogging up the fridge for a week-and-a-half because you, once again, bought too big a bird. No more dreading the clean-up and that you'll have to do it all over again at Christmas.

                              This year, it'll be a ribeye roast, Yorkshire pudding and asparagus with Hollandaise sauce. (Maybe some Rosemary potatoes, we haven't decided yet.) Our only nod to tradition, a pumpkin pie.



                              Eat your hearts out, Pilgrims!

                              (Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving!)

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                              Pundit Post

                              Happy​ Thanksgiving

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                                  Happy Thanksgiving to all.

                                  from

                                  George Daly

                                  aka HarleyBoy

                                  aka Disgraced Deacon Daly

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