Modernizing Hooker's licks gave George Thorogood a successful career and a spot in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
Sunday, August 13, 2017
Surfin'- Acoustic Demo
Young Brian Wilson was a musical genius and the Beach Boys harmonies were as tight as a mosquitos ass stretched around the rim of a 50 gallon barrel.
Sunday Soliloquy: Flavors of Liberals
by Angela K. Durden
I've got this friend. Though we're poles apart on many things, she's a great friend. In other words, she's a Liberal.
My friend — I shall call her Elinor* — would never call herself a Socialist and, in truth, I don't think she is. She's definitely not a RadFem, and she believes in paying her own way. But still she is a Flaming Liberal.
Elinor tells the truth all the time. She's kind. She's helpful. Even when she says something negative about someone, it is always to try to find an excuse as to why they did that thing. There must be a good reason other than that person is evil, right? Maybe they just forgot or they are getting dementia. Whatever. But never because they are evil.
You see, Elinor is this wonderful woman with nary a dark corner in her heart, soul, or mind. So pure and full of light, she cannot imagine anyone with a dark corner. In her world, guns kill people.
Embedded as I was during childhood in the ways of The Dark Side (I knew people killed people in a variety of ways), when Elinor and I get together of course my discussion is full of the dark side of whatever we are talking about. Typically, Elinor's reactions follow these lines:
"Uh-uh. No WAYYY."
And "I just cannot beLEEEV that, Angela."
In response to a conversation we were having about genes, which eventually led to the bullying of females being done by men pretending to be a female stuck in a man's body desperately trying to escape, that is transgender, Elinor — who has no clue about and cannot conceive of anybody wanting to dress or act like a female if they weren't born that way — said the other night, "I just want people to be able to pee without getting hounded out of the bathroom."
Elinor meant it. It was that simple for her. She said it with the most sincerest compassion in her voice. I dropped the subject because that is when I realized her flavor of Liberal is called Good, as opposed to the Evil flavor we see in the news all the time.
Still, as Good as she is, Elinor makes decisions based upon incomplete data. Since she cannot conceive of Evil, she does not believe it can exist. In other words, for Elinor black swans can never be because she's only seen white ones all her life. Anything outside her experience simply will never be a reality.
Elinor is so sure Evil cannot exist that she refuses to even contemplate anything else. That's why the Elinor's of this world — good people all, the kind you want as neighbors and employees and friends and teachers — should not be the ones making the decisions for the rest of the world.
You see, no matter the flavor of Liberals, their thinking is extremely limited. In a world full of Evil, we don't need someone to make the rules based upon the thinking that only Good People Exist.
And we definitely don't need someone to make the rules based upon selfish longing and a thirst for power.
Neither extreme works and both extremes are Liberal. And yes, RINOs are in that group.
*Not her real name. Not even close. In fact, I chose as my friend's fake name my mother's first name and since I'm not writing about my mother, stop trying to figure out who "Elinor" really is.
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| Google Search screen snip. |
I've got this friend. Though we're poles apart on many things, she's a great friend. In other words, she's a Liberal.
My friend — I shall call her Elinor* — would never call herself a Socialist and, in truth, I don't think she is. She's definitely not a RadFem, and she believes in paying her own way. But still she is a Flaming Liberal.
Elinor tells the truth all the time. She's kind. She's helpful. Even when she says something negative about someone, it is always to try to find an excuse as to why they did that thing. There must be a good reason other than that person is evil, right? Maybe they just forgot or they are getting dementia. Whatever. But never because they are evil.
You see, Elinor is this wonderful woman with nary a dark corner in her heart, soul, or mind. So pure and full of light, she cannot imagine anyone with a dark corner. In her world, guns kill people.
Embedded as I was during childhood in the ways of The Dark Side (I knew people killed people in a variety of ways), when Elinor and I get together of course my discussion is full of the dark side of whatever we are talking about. Typically, Elinor's reactions follow these lines:
"Uh-uh. No WAYYY."
And "I just cannot beLEEEV that, Angela."
In response to a conversation we were having about genes, which eventually led to the bullying of females being done by men pretending to be a female stuck in a man's body desperately trying to escape, that is transgender, Elinor — who has no clue about and cannot conceive of anybody wanting to dress or act like a female if they weren't born that way — said the other night, "I just want people to be able to pee without getting hounded out of the bathroom."
Elinor meant it. It was that simple for her. She said it with the most sincerest compassion in her voice. I dropped the subject because that is when I realized her flavor of Liberal is called Good, as opposed to the Evil flavor we see in the news all the time.
Still, as Good as she is, Elinor makes decisions based upon incomplete data. Since she cannot conceive of Evil, she does not believe it can exist. In other words, for Elinor black swans can never be because she's only seen white ones all her life. Anything outside her experience simply will never be a reality.
Elinor is so sure Evil cannot exist that she refuses to even contemplate anything else. That's why the Elinor's of this world — good people all, the kind you want as neighbors and employees and friends and teachers — should not be the ones making the decisions for the rest of the world.
You see, no matter the flavor of Liberals, their thinking is extremely limited. In a world full of Evil, we don't need someone to make the rules based upon the thinking that only Good People Exist.
And we definitely don't need someone to make the rules based upon selfish longing and a thirst for power.
Neither extreme works and both extremes are Liberal. And yes, RINOs are in that group.
*Not her real name. Not even close. In fact, I chose as my friend's fake name my mother's first name and since I'm not writing about my mother, stop trying to figure out who "Elinor" really is.
Saturday, August 12, 2017
From the Case Files of Three Sheets to the Wind, or How to Dance with a Socialist.
by Angela K. Durden
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.
So there I am. Found myself dancing with this fella who I quickly found out was more than a little drunk. To make matters worse, he had no rhythm whatsoever. So my feelings were already hurt because he was wasting my time. But you know what? Fine. The Chamblee Tuckers Band was good and what's the harm, so I kept on dancing.
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.
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| Picture taken by my good friend and singer and piano player extraordinaire, Amy Alice Wilson. |
So there I am. Found myself dancing with this fella who I quickly found out was more than a little drunk. To make matters worse, he had no rhythm whatsoever. So my feelings were already hurt because he was wasting my time. But you know what? Fine. The Chamblee Tuckers Band was good and what's the harm, so I kept on dancing.
His feet kept getting tangled up in mine and acting like it was all a goof and such fun. But then he really proceeded to make me mad. He tried to snatch my hat and swap it with his cap. Oh, hell to the nah! We wrestled for it for a few seconds because that was my hat and he had not asked permission. When I said no, that's when I knew he was a Socialist because he proceeded to say —
By this time, we aren't dancing anymore. Onlookers might have thought we were having an intimate moment as I polished his belt buckle on the dance floor. Onlookers would've been wrong.
Trying to avoid his staggering feet, I leaned in real close, squeezed hard on fingers still gripping my hat, and I explained the wrongness of the concept of imminent domain —
Still staring hard at him, he blinked a couple of times indicating he was processing the truthfulness and severity of my negotiating position concerning property rights. He let go and backed away. Nodding and, using big gestures, he drew a line between us and said, "Okay. I now know the line. I won't cross it."
I acknowledged his understanding with a "Ya better!" and then he grabbed my hands and we were off to the races again. That is when my friend Amy took the picture above. But the fella was drunk and as he swung me around in a fashion I did not like, I tried to remove myself from his grip. But he said words that made me realize just how much of a Socialist he really was. He said —
I got one hand free, his eyes went big and scared, and he started to tilt backward at an alarming rate. I grabbed him and held him steady. He bobbed his head in a huge "Thankee kindly, Mum" that was fit for the Queen of England.
Later he wanted a picture with me and my two friends and him, but he kept missing the button to make his camera click until finally, with smiles plastered on our faces, I said — let's be more accurate, shall I? — I commanded —
Geez, I hate dancing with Socialists, but I am grateful for the stories they provide.
"Hey! It's the RULE! Yagottaswap."
By this time, we aren't dancing anymore. Onlookers might have thought we were having an intimate moment as I polished his belt buckle on the dance floor. Onlookers would've been wrong.
Trying to avoid his staggering feet, I leaned in real close, squeezed hard on fingers still gripping my hat, and I explained the wrongness of the concept of imminent domain —
"You best let go of my hat or you will find yourself on the floor after I give you a beat down."
Still staring hard at him, he blinked a couple of times indicating he was processing the truthfulness and severity of my negotiating position concerning property rights. He let go and backed away. Nodding and, using big gestures, he drew a line between us and said, "Okay. I now know the line. I won't cross it."
I acknowledged his understanding with a "Ya better!" and then he grabbed my hands and we were off to the races again. That is when my friend Amy took the picture above. But the fella was drunk and as he swung me around in a fashion I did not like, I tried to remove myself from his grip. But he said words that made me realize just how much of a Socialist he really was. He said —
"Please don't let go. If you do, Immagonnafall."
I got one hand free, his eyes went big and scared, and he started to tilt backward at an alarming rate. I grabbed him and held him steady. He bobbed his head in a huge "Thankee kindly, Mum" that was fit for the Queen of England.
Later he wanted a picture with me and my two friends and him, but he kept missing the button to make his camera click until finally, with smiles plastered on our faces, I said — let's be more accurate, shall I? — I commanded —
"Hit the damn button, fergodssake!"
Geez, I hate dancing with Socialists, but I am grateful for the stories they provide.
Friday, August 11, 2017
Socialists' Fave Curmudgeon opens on Broadway.
by Angela K. Durden
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.
Fellow ROTW columnist Kim D. wrote an article on May 2 of this year about Michael Moore's newest production on Broadway called "The Terms of My Surrender."
Variety.com reported on the ticket sales for the two previews —
The New York Times reviewed the pseudo play. Usually I think of reviewers as jealous wannabees, those who can't do nor teach so they rip you a new one. But in this case I have to agree with Jesse Green when he wrote that even those who agree with Moore find that —
In pointing out all the shortcomings of the one-man show by Socialists' favorite curmudgeon, columnist Jesse Green has inadvertently pointed out why Socialism never works. Such as these witticisms here —
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.
Fellow ROTW columnist Kim D. wrote an article on May 2 of this year about Michael Moore's newest production on Broadway called "The Terms of My Surrender."
Variety.com reported on the ticket sales for the two previews —
"'The Terms of My Surrender' ($199,041 for two previews) played to houses that averaged about 98% of capacity, pulling in audiences with a show that Moore promises will be an unpredictable mix of personal and political anecdotes, hot takes on the day’s news and, possibly, a jaunt or two outside the theater. We’ll see over the next few weeks if “Terms of My Surrender” can maintain the same level of audience interest, especially among the liberal demographic most likely to agree with Moore’s views on Trump..."
But are there enough Socialists to keep it going even for a limited run? Then again, maybe that's why it's a limited-run show.
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| New York Times' Jesse Green |
"...his shtick has become disagreeable with age. 'The Terms of My Surrender,' which opened on Thursday at the Belasco, is a bit like being stuck at Thanksgiving dinner with a garrulous, self-regarding, time-sucking uncle. Gotta love him — but maybe let’s turn on the television."
In pointing out all the shortcomings of the one-man show by Socialists' favorite curmudgeon, columnist Jesse Green has inadvertently pointed out why Socialism never works. Such as these witticisms here —
"...'The Terms of My Surrender' is not organized well enough.... Certainly it falls short of offering seriously useful ideas about how individuals can make a difference.... Details are scant. Run for school board.... Be Rosa Parks. Download...an app....His tendency to cut factual corners to smooth the storytelling..." and"...affects a cute, common-man delivery...though the crowd at the Belasco, including a few shills, claps for almost all of the bait he tosses. Some toss bait back, including vulgar imprecations against the president that are hardly distinguishable from the cries of “Lock her up” that horrify us in other settings.
See? Jesse Green is brilliant. I wonder if he even knows why.
"What Does Your Name Mean in SpanglishdeshiChinoIndoLahsoApso?" and Other Clickbait Cons.
by Angela K. Durden
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.
There was a time when I never once thought about reading user agreements and Terms of Service before I happily and merrily and oh-so-innocently clicked on links that by their very titles promised to entertain or inform.
Those times didn't last too long though as I learn fast. In other words, once bitten I became twice shy and as flashing ads blasted across my screen obliterating the very thing I came to see, or as I read the story associated with the headline only to find it was nonsense, yes, only then did I began to read the words in that little link that says
and which, upon clicking, leads one to massive amounts of mice-type legal disclaimers that crosses your eyes and allows them to own you and your children and your house and car, to dictate any future lunch dates with your spouse, and to take with your full knowledge all the data about your account including your personal contact information, your friends' personal contact information, and use it as they wish including selling it. 99.999999% of us blindly put a check in the box that we agree and that is when we
Granted, in some instance there is nothing you can do about it. For instance, I am not giving up my iPhone and no, it isn't because I must have my precious Facebook handy at all times.
And yes, I read the entire legal disclaimers and terms of service Apple and AT&T provided. At least they did provide ways to opt out of certain features of which I did just so.
Because of its good design, my iPhone has made me money. And neither Apple nor my carrier AT&T spams me. They do their job and, as far as I'm concerned, we're good to go. But that is not the case when it comes to Internet advertising.
I love a good headline. Regular readers of my columns know I work hard to entertain them in that small space. It takes a lot of work. I often come up with what I think is a great headline that will tie in with what I write, only to change it before publishing because the article body ended up providing a much better option.
Contrary to what Facebook, Google, carriers, OS, and all these others say about feeling the great weight of responsibility to make sure fake news is stopped, to otherwise halt clickbait, and put the double hexawhammajamma on known email spam servers, these tech giants actually make money from allowing all that to pass through the you, the consumer, the users.
They do not care one whit that the headlines lead you to a page that is full of bots trying to invade your computer. All they want is to keep their active user count up so they can get that penny from you clicking lying headlines and "Can You Pass This Test" links that lead you to "What Does Your Name Mean in SpanglishdeshiChinoIndoLahsoApso?" where you give up yourself and your friends for a little bit of fun.
Notice how we don't ask you to do that? Hmmmm? That's right. Because we aren't evil.
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.
There was a time when I never once thought about reading user agreements and Terms of Service before I happily and merrily and oh-so-innocently clicked on links that by their very titles promised to entertain or inform.
Those times didn't last too long though as I learn fast. In other words, once bitten I became twice shy and as flashing ads blasted across my screen obliterating the very thing I came to see, or as I read the story associated with the headline only to find it was nonsense, yes, only then did I began to read the words in that little link that says
BY REGISTERING YOU ARE AGREEING
TO OUR TERMS OF SERVICE
TO OUR TERMS OF SERVICE
and which, upon clicking, leads one to massive amounts of mice-type legal disclaimers that crosses your eyes and allows them to own you and your children and your house and car, to dictate any future lunch dates with your spouse, and to take with your full knowledge all the data about your account including your personal contact information, your friends' personal contact information, and use it as they wish including selling it. 99.999999% of us blindly put a check in the box that we agree and that is when we
All get screwed, blued, and tattooed.
Granted, in some instance there is nothing you can do about it. For instance, I am not giving up my iPhone and no, it isn't because I must have my precious Facebook handy at all times.
And yes, I read the entire legal disclaimers and terms of service Apple and AT&T provided. At least they did provide ways to opt out of certain features of which I did just so.
Because of its good design, my iPhone has made me money. And neither Apple nor my carrier AT&T spams me. They do their job and, as far as I'm concerned, we're good to go. But that is not the case when it comes to Internet advertising.
According to Karl Denninger of The Market Ticker, the Internet is consumed with "eyeballs", metrics such as daily active users and monthly active users. None of these properties care if you are either entertained or informed, and in fact they actively seek to blur the boundary between entertainment, opinion and fact, never mind intentionally dishonest or outrageous content. Why? Because doing so drives daily active users.That's right, boys and girls, ladies and germs: Click Count is King and Eyeballs are the Court Jester. One way those are served is by —
The Inflammatory Headline
I love a good headline. Regular readers of my columns know I work hard to entertain them in that small space. It takes a lot of work. I often come up with what I think is a great headline that will tie in with what I write, only to change it before publishing because the article body ended up providing a much better option.
It is my hope that when you finish reading my articles you neither feel cheated or lied to in the promise the headline has made.
If only Facebook and others felt the same.
Contrary to what Facebook, Google, carriers, OS, and all these others say about feeling the great weight of responsibility to make sure fake news is stopped, to otherwise halt clickbait, and put the double hexawhammajamma on known email spam servers, these tech giants actually make money from allowing all that to pass through the you, the consumer, the users.
They do not care one whit that the headlines lead you to a page that is full of bots trying to invade your computer. All they want is to keep their active user count up so they can get that penny from you clicking lying headlines and "Can You Pass This Test" links that lead you to "What Does Your Name Mean in SpanglishdeshiChinoIndoLahsoApso?" where you give up yourself and your friends for a little bit of fun.
Notice how we don't ask you to do that? Hmmmm? That's right. Because we aren't evil.
Thursday, August 10, 2017
John Branyan: The Three Little Pigs Shakespeare-style
by Angela K. Durden
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.
Brilliant. Funny. And the payoff at the end is spot on.
Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Citizen Journalist.
Brilliant. Funny. And the payoff at the end is spot on.
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