Cranky Old Man #71

I'm on a diet and can't cook anyway, but ham and bananas hollandaise looks delicious to me.

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Who doesn't like a nice inspirational quote? Like this one that says, "Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood. Now is the time to understand more, so that we may fear less."

That's supposedly Marie Curie, but facts matter so I doublechecked, and it's not. It's just another internet meme going 'round.

You know Marie Curie, right? Two Nobel Prizes, and research into radioactivity, which eventually killed her. She said the first sentence of that 'quote' (in French, but it's a fair translation) after being diagnosed with cancer, and the first sentence kicks butt. The second sentence isn't hers at all.

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While we're talking about smart people, jeez, nobody wants to wade into this and I don't either, but this article in Scientific American is an embarrassment to Scientific American.

The Complicated Legacy of E. O. Wilson

Subheadline: We must reckon with his and other scientists’ racist ideas if we want an equitable future

Edward O Wilson died a few days ago, and I never met the guy. It's entirely possible he was a raging racist, and if so, no apologies from me. In the article, though, I see no evidence or examples.

I've read some of the papers in question, and it's been years, but I remember nothing from Wilson that said white people have smarter genes than black people, or anything that reasonable people might hear as racism.

He said genes are a contributing factor to intelligence, and fuckall, if that's racism then just pull the plug on science.

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Kids playing with alligators, in Los Angeles, as a tourist attraction.

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I've been reading the Anderson Valley Advertiser since the 1990s. It's a small-town newspaper with a grumpy editor, excellent coverage of local issues, and a great letters section where almost all opinions are welcome.

A frequent letter-writer was a local dude named Jerry Philbrick, who wrote long, angry, BS-filled screeds that always ended with "God bless Donald Trump." Everything Philbrook wrote was worthless drivel, but I sometimes read a few paragraphs by accident, or for laughs.

Then he got sick and the letters stopped coming, and now he's dead.

When someone's as willfully ignorant as Philbrook was, I am a dance-on-their-graves kinda guy. I would've lifted a toast to his death, and I still might.

The AVA, though, runs a brief but straight obituary, along with a thoughtful feature they'd originally published about Philbrook a few years back, when a reporter had gone to his house to try to figure him out. She failed like Don Quixote, but you have to respect the quest. And I guess even a deluded numbskull like Philbrook had some redeeming qualities.

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I don't believe in the Bible's Book of Revelation, but an hour reading r/nursing makes today looks like the endtimes.

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Always on the prowl for new and interesting podcasts, I found Storytime with Seth Rogen, the pudgy and likable stoner actor. Can't say whether it's any good, though. My interest waned before the show got underway.

Rogen opens by reading a minute-and-a-half ad for LaCroix sparkling water. Then there's a two-minute tease for the episode, before the host announces that the podcast is sponsored by Better Health Online Therapy.

Everyone needs to make a living, and if you're a schmo with a podcast I won't complain about selling ads. If you're a movie star, I'll complain. Dude hasn't had a hit for a few years, but he's not struggling to put pot in his bong. Why is this millionaire pitching cyberpsychobabble and tinkle water?

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One-word newscast:

• China

• hmmm

• COVID

① ② ③ ④

• stupid

Dead:

• Betty White

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The NBA and NFL surrendered to their vaccine refusers.

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If looks could kill:

Miss Hollywood, Sophia Loren, and Jayne Mansfield

"Look at the picture. Where are my eyes? I’m staring at her nipples because I am afraid they are about to come onto my plate. In my face, you can see the fear."

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I'll bury this at the bottom of the page because it's stupid and pointless. Proceed at your own risk. No freebies will be given if you're not fully satisfied.

This was my dream from New Year's Eve overnight. What it means I don't know, but your analysis would be welcome.

I'm going to lunch at Cantor's Sandwich Shop. You've never heard of it because it doesn't exist (when I woke up, I Googled it) but in my dream Cantor's is famous for low-price pretty-good fast-food roast beef sandwiches. Even their sign is famous — a cartoon face with its mouth open wide, taking a big bite of beef.

I'd never eaten at Cantor's, but they're having a 2-for-1 sale so there I am. Walking in, instead of a normal fast-food counter, there are three counters, in three different corners of the building. It's like a food court at the mall, with tables in the middle, but every counter is Cantor's. I'm bewildered, but a big arrow dangling from the ceiling says "Order here," so that's the line I step into.

When it's my turn, I order ten roast beef sandwiches for the price of five. The guy makes my sandwiches, bags them, hands them to me, and I'm ready to pay, but no. "We can't handle money here, where we're prepping the food." He tells me to pay at the second counter, and points across the big room.

Seems peculiar. At most fast-food places you pay first, and then they give you the food, right? But I've never been to Cantor's before, and this is their system, so I take the sack of sandwiches and go stand in the second line to pay.

You know, I could just walk out of here with ten free roast beef sammiches, and I'm wondering, is this an honesty test? Am I on that stupid hidden camera show? If I am, I'll punch the host. He always bugged me. That whole show bugged me, and I never even watched it.

Finally it's my turn to pay, and I pay, but the employee at this counter tells me that now I gotta go to another counter — and he points across the room — "to take our customer satisfaction survey."

No, man. Bite me, I'm gonna bite and eat my sandwiches. I sit down and do exactly that, and they're good but not great.

While chewing, I watch as confused customers bounce around between ordering at one counter, paying at another, and doing the survey at the third counter, and the whole system is stupid. After eating and napkinning the mustard off my face, I walk across the room and join the line at the third counter. I want to take the survey, and tell Cantor's how stupid their system is.

While waiting, I watch as an old man behind the counter asks the survey questions of a younger man, who tells him that the service was slow and the roast beef was gristly. The old man says "We're very sorry," and hands him a coupon for a free blow job.

Now it's my turn to take the survey, and the old man asks me the same questions. I tell him their system is stupid, but their sandwiches are OK, and he says thank you. The next customer steps up, so I guess we're done. No blow job for me?

That's the end of the dream, but I woke up hungry for a roast beef sandwich.

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Mystery links — Like life itself, there’s no knowing where you’re going:

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Sing along with Doug:
"History Repeating," by Propellerheads
featuring Shirley Bassey
Tip 'o the hat:
Linden Arden • BoingBoing
Captain Hampockets • Follow Me Here
The Honest Courtesan • John the Basket
LiarTownUSA • Messy Nessy Chick
MLG • National Zero • Ran Prieur
Vintage Everyday • Voenix Rising
Extra special thanks:
Becky Jo • Name Withheld • Dave S.
1/2/2022
Cranky Old Man