BOOMERS ANONYMOUS -- Care or Quit?

4723? Yup.  That's February 17, 2026, to most round-eyes in the United States, and to the rest of the Jesuit-controlled world but, . . . as usual, I digress. We've made it to 16 (subscribers) on You Tube, so it is somewhat easier now to maintain and update this avocation called Boomers Anonymous. Just embed videos, rinse, and repeat. Still, readers deserve a broader, deeper narrative, as to why I choose to play a certain piece, or why my sense of synchronicity demands that, if I can help it, some meaningful content gets uploaded to the interwebs -- until it can't. So, whenever I played RPG video games like Elden Ring, Dark Souls, I almost always play as an Astrologer/Battle Mage type. Why? I don't know . . .  Bachelor of Arts in Philosophy perhaps? The "predictors" and "soothsayers" believe that the Year of the Horse will be characterized as  BOLD  and UPLIFTING . Horses propel you with great speed and energy, and the Fire elemental adds to the fast-...

"The internet never forgets."   But, it could die.     Herein below (stupid lawyers) is what I could scrape from the interwebs, the remains of my written, posted work from blog posts over the last, oh, say, 15 years.  I will always contend that much deep thought went into these rants. Luckily, some of my thoughts have been captured, successfully. These thoughts, framed by bits of time, are fueled by one American citizen's concern -- I tried to serve as a voice, an advocate, for ourselves and our posterity.   With my mother-in-law's funeral service coming next week, what I can honestly say is that I have done and what I have done here to express, despite the degrees of separation the internet creates, what I know to be true, good, consistent, and above all, based in Scripture.   In the words of Nathaniel Benchley, "Only Earth and Sky Last Forever."   I'm not trying to out-perform "mean Tweets." The Divine Comedy keeps me laughing. With all our y...

Start here .  I'm not lazy, dammit.  I'm efficient, and to some that looks lazy. Of course it doesn't help to be middle-aged and (slightly) overweight. Some stereotypes are justified. But even if 60 is the new 40, that doesn't affect my work.  I happen to think that stereotypes serve a comedic impulse. Unfortunately, when misused, they exacerbate improper discrimination. Clearly, a person's immutable physical attributes are an awfully unreliable predictor of their attitude. Fellow Boomers, my prevailing attitudes about life were shaped in a crucible of American military tradition.  Have you identified  your crucible? This week's comment (BTW, yours are welcome, too) deals with codes. No, not the millions of lines of mathematical computer codes that people smarter than me write in exotic languages like Python, Perl, Pascal, Forth, Frink, Erlang, Haskell, C, C+, C++ (D), Eiffel, Oberon, Occam, ChucK , or one of many scripting codes such as Beanshell or Mondrian ...

 OR . . . as the red-hatted hordes CHEERING for NASCAR driver bRANDON BROWN would say . . . "Right on, Q!" Start here .  Welcome back boomers (and kids) to another edition ... uh, addition, ... or is it merely a rendition?  OK, enough bull about Durham . . . So, a great French comedian once said,  "Zee timing, she eez evereething."    I Think, Therefore I Drink Based on that, I think once a week should be the proper dosage of this comic relief, plus or minus a paragraph or two. If you could just help me calibrate it . . . if you don't mind . . . that would be great. We are hunkered down in the Carolina Piedmont, stocked up with white bread, toilet paper, and almond milk. We got hit by a full inch of snow and sleet, just before MLK Day. Then we got hit again just this weekend.  And the NFL isn't rigged. Hmph. I can hear my Yankee friends laughing scornfully at the Southern facade, the genteel, neurotic, Prince of Tides machismo , panicked at the prosp...

That'll do, pig. IN THE BEGINNING . . .  there was " WIT , GUN , and STEIN ." That was the title of my first blog.  Some of you already knew that. WGS existed from January 2009 to March 2011.  In it, I mixed blood, sweat, and tears, with golf course and music reviews. Sometimes, I tried to be funny . Not much is left of WGS, other than the internet way-back machine archives , which means some but not all of the internet, lasts forever.  Some of the internet just dies. Notwithstanding the grandiose experiment in literary expression and political polemic, I feel successful in having conducted my verbal excercise, working through variously apt sub-titles, patching together broken phrases, just to say: "Hey. Words mean things." For example:  WGS -- "3 Things You Will Need For The End Times" As it turns out, the reference to  "End Times" was a bit melodramatic. Too early, perhaps? Wittgenstein, get it? Another sub-title was:   WGS - "A Gol...