When overconfident engineers chat
“I admire your faith in your product.”
Ry Jones
Fictional, but as the man says, each element’s already occurred — just not all together.
h/t: BoingBoing
Long ago, a wise man I knew who’d traveled up and down the spine of the Americas on foot observed on the subject of race:
I don’t believe there are meaningful differences you can ascribe to race. But I know for certain that there are unsuccessful cultures.
Following cultural patterns that were optimized for survival in non-industrial societies will doom you to a life of poverty, pain, and hunger in modern civilization. My wise man saw it in South and Central America; I see it among some of my in-laws in the Central Valley and in the inner cities; my wife’s doctoral thesis is about how it’s reflected in college persistence; The Bastidge sees it in Afghanistan. Race has nothing to do with it.
Soon-to-be-son-in-law proudly displays the fruits of his first kill with his new .243 Encore; the stew was self-canned by a buddy of his.
Jerry the Geek’s beloved Sandie passed away this past weekend.
I grew up in his town; though I moved away long ago, and I’ve never met him, or the late She Who Must Be Obeyed, I’ve corresponded with him on occasion in the past and read his fine blog posts from time to time; he and she seemed like the kind of good folks you’d want to know. And they obviously cared for each other very much.
So sorry for your loss, Jerry.
Has me rather… eh. Mostly because our government has a habit of making secret so much information that is instead pedestrian or politically damaging, rather than damaging to National Security.
If you make everything secret, then you damage the value of that classification.
I’d love to follow my grandmother’s example in home-canning just about everything, but frankly in earthquake country those glass jars just don’t make sense (as she’s learned to her dismay).
Imagine my joy upon learning that you can follow the same sort of pressure-canning process, but with commercially-available steel cans rather than Mason jars!
Soon-to-be-son-in-law recently showed us the fruits of his first kill with the .243 Encore, a can of wild boar stew. It was canned by a friend of his who has an ancient hand-steel-can-sealer. Off I went to the Internet, and this is what I found!

If the choice for a new hobby to get into this Christmas is between reloading or home canning, I think I’ll take canning for now. Cost seems about the same.
As some of you know, among other things, my job involves writing my employers’ contracts with consumers who use our services. One of the best weapons has been the arbitration provision — keeps disputes private, keeps them out of court, and most importantly, prevent class actions and attorneys’ fee awards if they’re written correctly. California and a few other states have tried to gut that tool of its usefulness, and a case I’ve been watching for years just was heard at the US Supreme Court. Transcript of oral argument here.
Bear in mind, in most cases if you complain about something as a consumer of our services, my company and others like it will simply refund your money, 100%, no questions, just to shut you up and avoid inquiry by a state agency/bad BBB rating/etc. We make those contracts you agree to so brutal only to fend off class-action consumer attorneys who bring utterly frivolous suits to collect big settlement checks from us.