Up with ‘Vim and Vigor’

 Posted by at 15:25  Up With
Sep 022014
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The whole idea of ‘vim and vigor’ used to amuse me. It seemed old fashioned, the kind of remark that my grandma would make. Of course that was back when I had it. Now that I’m older than my grandmother, it’s not so funny.

The dictionary says it means strength and enthusiasm, qualities which are becoming more elusive with each passing day. I never thought that ‘vim’ was an actual English word. I learn now that it is; derived from the Latin for strength. It doesn’t matter because, for me, ‘vim’ is a quality in short supply.

Not me!

Not me!

These days I find I’m spending half the day finding the ‘vim and vigor’ to get our of bed. I don’t feel old exactly- although I couldn’t tell what that might mean. I can find the energy to get up and at ‘em eventually and when I do I feel just as capable of taking on the day as ever. It’s just that the sense of urgency is gone. Getting up is driven more by a full bladder than eagerness to take on the day.

I have plans, hopes and dreams just like always. What is misssing these days is the urgency.  Even more I have the feeling that I’ll be much more energetic if I lie here just a few minutes more. Certainly the body is less willing these days. What troubles me more is the realization that so is my mind.

C’est la vie. Continue reading »

Jul 292014
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Originally posted 2010-04-10 09:42:27. Republished by Blog Post Promoter

One of our missions here at COC is to help our readers bring out the cantankerosity hidden within.  To wash away the filters and restrictions imposed by society on our daily exchanges.  Because of the disapproval of any honest disagreement or disapproval in our modern and civil times. it is difficult to even comprehend a cantankerous frame of mind.    From time to time we will bring the best examples from film to COC in our zeal to foster the inner cantankerosity of our readers.

Jack Nicholson has certainly earned a place here at COC. You can expect to see more of Jack’s exquisite rants over time but today we want to start with this scene from As Good As It Gets where Jack is the eccentric writer in an apartment building.   In this scene, he demonstrates the controlled rant.  No wild hysterics.  No shouting. But he makes it very clear that he does not want to be disturbed.  He pulls no punches.  He shows not an ounce of sensitivity or compassion.  This is a quality rant.  Enjoy and take good notes.  There will be a test later.  BTW do you think the sensitive neighbor is a mollycoddle?

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Jul 292014
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Originally posted 2012-09-03 06:27:03. Republished by Blog Post Promoter


No this isn’t another post about crap….per se.  This is about being a decent neighbor.  We have lived in this house now for a little over a year and in that time we have gotten very tired of our neighbors.  Well one set that lives next door.  They don’t bother us very much as far as direct interaction but, they are a pain in the proverbial ass.

What is that smell???  Oh yea, the old meat wrappers on the side of the BBQ grill that are marinating in the 100 degree heat.

What is that?  a 2 year old girl running naked in the front yard?  Oh, a naked 5 year old boy following?  Ummmm Parents?  Babysitter?  Oh there she is smoking on the front porch talking on the phone.  Oh the older kids are home from school, let the screaming, profanity laden put downs begin!

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Jul 292014
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Originally posted 2011-11-30 05:29:04. Republished by Blog Post Promoter

Polls are everywhere these days.

Everywhere you look there are polls telling you what other people think and suggesting that you do likewise. They always look so trustworthy and reliable. But how good are they really and why should I care what they say? What am I? A lemming!

I’ve always been suspicious of poll numbers. It’s not that I don’t understand how numbers work. I’ve studied sampling and statistics and I believe that the theories pan out, so long as they really do what they are supposed to. But how can you really know?

What I’m suspicious of is who the polling companies actually call and whether the people they finally talk to bear any resemblance to the general population. There are many ways to cook the books and steer the conclusions your way by manipulating the sample. But even if the polling company is honest and unbiased, I still was uncomfortable with polls. What really gave me pause was that with all the polls being conducted over my lifetime, never did one of them call me.

Sure the sample numbers are small and it’s a big country we live in but not only have I never received a call from a pollster, I don’t know anybody who ever received a call from a pollster. Despite seeing representatives of polling organization on TV from time to time, I have no evidence that proves to my satisfaction that polls are real. For all I know they may be just as phony as the moon landing. From my perspective it is just as likely that polls are nothing but an elaborate hoax on the general public, intended not to inform but to manipulate behavior.

I think its a scam!

I can’t help wondering if polls are nothing more than a subversive scam on the general public. Behind the facade of statistical theory and polling questions is there nothing more complicated than hard core marketing designed to manipulate the minds and hearts of the unsuspecting public. Inquiring minds want to know.

After all, who can really know for sure that 37% of right handed voters in southern North Carolina really prefer candidate X? And what happens if 15% of those right handed voters in southern North Carolina lie? Supposedly from statistical theory this all washes out so long as you ask enough people but I still wonder how rigorously the machinery works in the back room- or if it is working at all. Who would know?

I used to be more tolerant.

In my youth, I was more respectful about our institutions. They were good enough for my parents generation, surely they would be good enough for mine. Something happens when you get old, however. I find myself more suspicious and less charitable. Part of it may be that I am now older than the people running these institutions. I can no longer make the excuse that they have more life experience or even wisdom. I flat our don’t trust those young whippersnappers. It’s pretty clear that they don”t have any mysterious wisdom and maturity.  And nothing suggests that they have my well-being in mind.

So I’m just not willing to grant any respect to polling numbers anymore. I don’t believe them. I don’t trust the integrity of the people running them and I absolutely and categorically hate the organizations that hire the pollsters to create lies, confusion and misdirection for the voters. So much for credibility.

There are liars, damned liars and statisticians but worst of all there are pollsters.

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Jul 292014
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Originally posted 2011-07-06 05:32:22. Republished by Blog Post Promoter

Women at work on bomber, Douglas Aircraft Comp...

Image by The Library of Congress via Flickr

It’s unconscionable!

I just heard the clerk for the Casey Anthony trial read the verdict. It’s an outrage. I’m livid. It’s hard to get control of my emotions. It’s a travesty- willful and shameless sabotage of something vital and important to American life. It sticks in my craw and gives me pains in my gut. I just plain can’t get over it.

It’s not what you think. I have an opinion about Casey- who doesn’t after all these years of emotional and highly biased coverage. I have to confess that I was surprised at the verdict because Nancy Grace and the legal pundits had tried and convicted Casey many times over the last few years. That’s the American courts system for you.  Experts don’t count!  The people have the last word.  Experts don’t determine the verdicts. It’s real people. No other aspect of American governance is so down to earth.

We don’t even get real people to represent us in government these days. Everybody has to be a professional to even make the ballot and that means that representing real people is their number two or maybe three priority. But I digress. I was surprised at the verdict but that wasn’t what made me outraged. Casey in jail or Casey writing a book about her travails, life will go on. I don’t think she will be making a career of getting pregnant and killing the resulting children. My outrage is from something else entirely. What’s got me outraged today is the willful destruction of the English language by political correctness. If I hear the word foreperson one more time, I may go postal.

Who’s protecting our language?

Foreman is a time honored word in the English language. It means, very simply, the person in charge. Yes, it’s true that in the past, most of the time the people in charge were men. Then came the feminist revolution and white became black and night became day. I don’t want to give those looney women a bit of credit for changing the world for the better. Long before I ever heard of Germain Greer or any of those other bad tempered, ugly and talentless women, real women of talent were changing American life by using their talents and abilities to occupy positions of power and influence. Those ugly, unloved and talentless feminists merely followed their ascent and claimed credit creating a lot of collateral damage along the way.  And men were too embarrassed for them (and a bit cowed at their crude, shrill attacks) to point it out. Sometimes, chivalry may be misplaced.

Real women of talent didn’t need artifice and manipulation to make their way. They could cope with generic pronouns which as I have discussed elsewhere hurt men far more than they hurt women. They understand that a foreman can be of either sex, just like a congressman, assemblyman or councilman. But ugly, talentless and unloved woman have campaigned tirelessly for the ridiculous depersonification of pronouns that made me so outraged today. I can’t count the number of times today my ears were stabbed with that terrible made-up word, foreperson. I need my ears washed out to remove the irritation.

Protect the endangered pronouns!

How anybody can believe that the destruction of the English language is in anyway justified is beyond my understanding. It is meaningless manipulation, touchy feely  rather than substantial. And it is all because ugly, talentless and unlovable women with nothing else to justify their existence invented feminism and wrecked this societal damage on modern life.

There isn’t much I can do to repair this damage which has driven the sexes apart and destroyed the harmony of family life but there is one small thing I can do. I will never let the word foreperson escape my mouth. Feminists have done great damage to society. They have been given credit for doing good which I believe is competely unjustified. Time will probably correct their ego inflicted stupidity as people return to what works instead of what they would like to think works. Language, however,  doesn’t recover so easily from disaster. The damage to our pronouns may not so easily be corrected . Please join me.  Take up my cause and vow that you will never use politically correct pronouns. Make foreperson a four letter work in your household.


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