I'll restate.
Many, people did not, or would not, wear one properly. Their nose poked out, or it hung around their necks unless the boss was looking. They'd touch contaminated surfaces and touch their face.
I am relating what I see, what I know.
You are free to ignore me.
Throwing out what I see, what I know.
> everyone knows how to mask
No, everyone does not know how to mask. They never did, and they never will.
Sorry - two rifle squads and one mortar section during the war.
Band of Brothers made a lot more sense when I learned that WW II-era airborne rifle platoons had three squads of infantry and a mortar section, and lacked a weapons platoon.
Maybe that loud-ass screeching was the bird, decades later, yelling for Agnes or George or whoever to COME GET HIM RIGHT NOW PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD I MISS YOU.
I imagine way back in the 1940s - he was bought as a young bird by a loving, attentive owner. There was bonding. He was as content as nature would allow.
They passed on, he was passed on, to people who however kind they were were not his owner and life became a sort of hell for that bird.
I could hear him a block away, with the windows closed.
Mercifully, he passed after a year or so, of old age.
Bit everyone, except me, because I wouldn't let him get close enough.
Ate the thermostat - his cage was pushed too close to the wall for a few days.
Mastered the art of escaping from his first cage.
Screeched. I've owned roosters .. he was louder than a roster. Indoors.
My wife acquired a cockatoo. Because she felt sorry for him, having allegedly been rescued from a drug dealer who was not kind to him.
Worst pet ever.
If I ever win the lottery, I probably won't tell anyone but there will be signs.
Over in the White House Joe is shaking his head sadly.
'Bob knows better. Use your kid at a cut-out, like I do.'
They'll kick him out of the Senate for the crime of 'doing crimes dumb'.
Accepting gold bars in person, and storing them in your own home?
Baby-town frolics. Menendez knows better.
The reason they have skull computers are for communication (how the radio works is not discussed), tactical information, a head's up display.
But it can also play movies. Music. Text processing. Probably even has bash and vt100.
Who wouldn't want that.
Guy named John Scalzi wrote an okay novel called 'Old Man's War'. In it, soldiers
<mild spoiler>
have computers embedded in their skulls.
I thought that was the coolest damn thing and I was taken aback when I found out other people were cool to the idea.
A watched merge request doesn't get merged.
I know that cousin has been married forever - I was at his wedding - and has a passel of kids and now grandkids. I simply don't know who they are.
Which made me reflect: an entire branch of my family is more-or-less absent from my life due to distance and social media.
My only maternal cousin doesn't do computers. Never got onto facebook. All my paternal cousins are heavily into tech, and do social media. I talk to them all the time.
That is not privilege, that's an old people thing.
For every old lady you know on Facebook there are hundreds who never have, and never will, touch a computer.
Your civilization is built on software.
All of it: craftwork.
You wouldn't build a Hoover Dam with artisans. You wouldn't maintain bridges with a thousand people doing their own thing.
But there it is: the shit that keeps things going is artisanal.
I try not to think about this too much.
I've lived in one or two touristy places. It's always funny when people from out of town visit.
I don't mind them! Just funny how their view and mine didn't always square. To me it was home.
The GI Bill has always been marketed as Free College.
It's one of the reasons I enlisted in 1985.
Then I didn't use it, for reasons.
Pet peeve:
People who use 'folder' and 'directory' interchangeably.
A directory is a file system object.
A folder is a GUI metaphor that represents a directory.
These three make a total of nine chicks hatched here this summer.
Assuming they aren't all roosters, added to the existing stock of laying hens (8) we might see a fat pipeline of eggs next spring.
Guess what?
Dog sitting update.
Big Girl cat chased the puppy out of the bedroom.
Barred the door, tail bottle-brushed, emitting ominous 'i will KILL you' sounds.
Raised that cat from a kitten. She's four.
I had no idea she could make those noises.
Dog sitting a friend's half-grown dog for a few days.
Dog has now met cats for the first time. She's fascinated!
Cats are not impressed with her nonsense.
