Tag Archives: Politics

Science doubleplusungood

Grain of salt not guilty verdictIn between donating stuff to the Salvation Army Thrift store today I was amiably sifting through the news and found cause for hope in this world. As an aside; it always gives me a smile when activist propagandised ‘health’ advice gets a well deserved kick up the arse.

Today a study has surfaced about that big bad bugaboo of the illness establishment, salt. Good old Sodium Chloride, that essential nutrient which now seems to be rather good for you as part of a balanced diet. A study some establishment voices are decrying loudly with “Foul! Ref!”.

Which those of us with a slightly better than average working knowledge of the human frame have been saying all along. While the illness establishment and its well funded activists have been saying; “No, no, salt is bad, really bad. Don’t use it! You’ll die horribly, your legs will drop off, erm, er, next Tuesday week unless you cut back to under five grammes a day!” All the time ignoring the harmful effects of too little salt in the diet (Hyponatremia).

For the final time; over five grammes of good old NaCl a day is only bad for you, as the hand waving activists maintain, if you already have a dodgy heart, liver or kidneys and high blood pressure. The healthy human body can easily cope with more and is surprisingly resilient, as well as coming in a wide range of shapes and sizes with differing dietary tolerances. What the hand wavers and professional political advocates cannot understand is that there is no one-size-fits-all answer to anything. If there were, then we wouldn’t need all these clothing and shoe stores for one. Which would give lots of non-males out there nothing to do at the weekend (Dis-aster dwarlings). The retail and distribution sectors would collapse, resulting in massive unemployment and penury, and there would be a lot of shopaholics in dire need of psychological therapy. Yes, and poor Sophie Kinsella wouldn’t have a career, you uncaring bastards.

Me, I tend to treat these media ‘science’ alarums and diversions with the contempt they so richly deserve. For example; if people knew that potatoes belonged to the Deadly Nightshade (Solanaceae) family of plants, along with Eggplant and Tomatoes, would they be so keen on tucking into an extra portion of fries with tomato on the side? Or what about Broccoli and all those other ‘healthy’ vegetables? Mm-mm, taste that gorgeous Sulforaphane. Which is one of Broccoli’s defence mechanisms. Even if in the right doses it (As part of a prescribed course of therapy) can be used to treat cancer. Those doses must be relatively small. Concentrated, this chemical is very nasty indeed. So maybe it’s not a good idea to have that daily broccoli smoothie. To quote Paracelsus “The poison is in the dose.” A little is fine, a lot, not so much.

As regards vegetables, I would like to remind my last remaining reader that they are plants. One thing you should know about plants. All plants have some sort of defence mechanism against predators (Grazing animals with specialised digestive systems), either mechanical (Thorns) or chemical (Toxins). Which is why a vegan diet will not protect anyone from cancer or heart disease. There is even a distinct possibility that exclusively eating vegetable matter may in fact have deleterious long term effects on the human anatomy and contribute to an increased cancer and heart disease risk. Anecdotally speaking I’ve come across a few real life vegans, and frankly they never inspired confidence in their way of life. One insipid little guy had the temerity to stand over me while I was eating a well earned home made beef stew, calling my meal ‘dog meat’. I’m told he died over fifteen years ago. I reiterate. The human frame thrives best on a mixed diet. Proteins, animal fats, vitamins and minerals (and we don’t digest chlorophyll very well). Something, in their naive quest for a single solution to the world’s ills, the hand wavers conveniently ignore. What is good for a rural Inuit (Adapted over generations to a high protein, high fat diet) will not be good for an Urban Southern European, and so forth.

Which leads me to think that if the hand wavers had their way, we’d all live in identical houses on identical streets wearing identical robe type clothes and eating nothing but low salt, low fat gruel and dying when we’re jolly well told to before our pensions kick in. Apart from them, because they’re so superior and well, better from the rest of us aren’t they? Apart from being consistently wrong. About everything. All the time.

What the hand wavers also don’t seem to get is that most of us are grown ups quite able to make our own choices. Given accurate and timely information. Which their fad-driven factoids so often aren’t. Which so many ‘journalists’ nowadays seem not to fact check out of all the activists’ doom laden press releases. Well, most mainstream ‘news’ outlets sell drama more than real news.

The actual problem I feel, has deep roots in Academia, where in order to get a grant for research, a given academic must please the bureaucracy who hold the research fund purse strings. The bureaucrats in turn must please their political masters, who dole out the bigger funds according to their own (often ossified and underdeveloped) belief system. With the effect that everyone has to do what they’re told or the grant money dries up like rain on hot rock. The word is; toe the party line or starve.

Not unsurprisingly, many academics choose the easy option, just so that they can focus on their proper research while nobody’s looking. This isn’t always the case, but at present there’s far too much “Find the results we want” ‘science’ like with climate modelling. Models have their place, like providing a basis for prototyping, but they do need to mirror reality to be truly useful. Which climate models so far have not. Same with diet, there are way too many stray dogmas which need euthanising. Veganism for one.

Unfortunately, the politics surrounding certain areas of research is stunting real scientific investigation. At least within the University system. Politicians and their globalist mentors want to extend their power so they fund activist groups to lobby themselves and spread their version of what is ‘right’. Which is a bit of a con-job and no mistake. Then under ‘advice’ from said activist groups advice, they (directly and indirectly) influence bureaucrats and researchers looking for a meal ticket, funding by giving both activist and bureaucrats cushy little sinecures on policy influencing Non-Governmental Organisations from which dissenting views are often excluded. Maybe that’s a model that needs changing.

The heat is on

Or it ain’t half hot Mum. Well it was, honest. Now it’s not.

Charleston at the end of April and Mrs s and I were wilting a bit by the end of the day. We’ve been exploring history on the run up the the US Civil War, which had roots way back in the US Declaration of Independence and the compromises made to bring the plantation owning slave owners in with the rest of those rascally rebels against King George. What we’ve learned is that the actual fighting was simply the hot phase of a conflict over ‘States Rights’ which had been going on for years before a shot was fired. Oh yes, and Fort Sumter is actually a lot smaller than I’d imagined. Somehow I’d expected it to be much bigger for the focus of such a momentous event. Mrs S and I have decided that in two days we’ve barely scratched the surface and are going to grace the Palmetto City with a second visit sometime.

Chattanooga was a bit of an overnighter, and we ended up giving Lookout Mountain a miss because of the weather. So we checked out Nashville for a couple of days. Sunday night we ended up downtown watching such oddities as ‘Pedal bars‘ carrying whooping groups of partiers. We, being of a more sedate years, chose to enjoy our drinks in more peaceful surroundings, and despite our obvious grey hairs, had to show ID before getting alcoholic libations. Apparently it’s state law in Tennessee.

The weather recently hasn’t been our friend, what with the odd passing thunderstorm, but we made the best of it by getting me some new cooking knives (Proper Sabatier’s) and a chef’s apron for when the cooking muse hits. Plugged some holes in our old movie collection with a Bogart compilation and some others we fancied at the moment while it bucketed down in Nashville. Picked up a couple of the more obscure CD’s we’ve had trouble sourcing in BC. Overall, despite downpours, we had a good time. The only downside was our hotel. Advertising itself as three star was a bit of an exaggeration. Two would have been more appropriate. I could go into detail, but I’ve saved that for a rather scathing comment on booking.com.

As for the political news, well there’s a fine howdy-do and no mistake. However, I made my feelings plain on this issue back February 25th based on this story. Is the big C destined to win the Democratic nomination only to get whumped in the real thing by the big T? Will this encourage voters to put their X where their heart tells them, and not where they are scared to by the lamestream? Intriguing…

Anyway, this evening finds us in St Louis on the Illinois side, plotting and planning our visit to the Cahokia Mounds and perhaps one of the local plantations, the day after to the city centre to see the big arch and perhaps visit a few museums.

Today I am…

I wrote this post two days ago, but fell asleep before completion because I was so damn tired. I blame noisy hotel air conditioners waking me up in the wee small hours. Never mind.

Today I am……. Well, er (Cough, splutter, cough) very young indeed and my inner geek has been let out to play. Taking me back to the days when my heroes wore names like Carpenter, Glenn, Grissom, Schirra, Armstrong and Aldrin. Not for young Bill Sticker the dream of being a mere driver of steaming trains or Omnibuses, my dreams, then and now have always been among the stars, away from the cosy (and sometimes not so comfortable) security of dear old Mother Earth. So this particular little days outing connected a memory trail that almost brought a tear to my cynical old eyes.

For me it was a boyhood dream come true, a day out at Cape Kennedy. Number two on my lifetime bucket list. Rockets, capsules, sound and fury on a beautiful Floridian day. I have touched a rock from another world, sat in a mockup Space Shuttle cockpit and felt how intuitively the controls fell to hand. I’ve had so many pleasurable flashbacks to my less tainted self today that frankly chums, I’ve almost (But not quite) rediscovered my boyhood innocence. Which is a sensation I thought I’d never feel again. For me this almost Proustian sensation brought both joy and melancholy. Joy at feeling what I felt as a boy without the patina of years, melancholy in knowing that certain things will never come to pass for me.

What can I say? Anyway, it amused me at the time, and perhaps that is all we can expect from our little sojourns on this earth. A little gratification, a few smiles and accepting that we are but mortal flesh. I will never be an astronaut, well, unless some bloody miracle occurs and my peculiarly eclectic skill set is the only thing that can save humankind, and I have to be shot into orbit. Nah. I’ve helped raise a new generation who may produce another who will live my dream for me, and that at least makes me smile with a little parental pride.

Anyway, speaking of smiles; this Trump fellow, hasn’t he just upset the Republicans political apple cart? Not only knocking it over, but making apple sauce and pies out of the debris. This with over four hundred delegates still in the wind. So much for #nevertrump and other such online campaigns. Hashtags which seem to be cutting very little ice with grass roots Republicans, and the groundswell seems to show no sign of letting up. I think it’s a blue collar revolution folks. The party elites don’t like it because all their cosy sinecures may just disappear down the plughole. Maybe it’s the future for a new brand of politics, taking power from the hands of the distant and unaccountable. And not before time.

TTFN

Grand vistas

If you see one sight to fill your life with awe, the Grand Canyon can do it. Well it certainly made my vertigo wake up and say; “Ey oop young Bill. This is why you never chose mountaineering as a career option.”Grand Canyon sunset 3 It really is something. Especially at sunset or dawn, which are the two times to see this gaping chasm at it’s most awesome. Well worth the one and a half hour scoot up from Flagstaff.

Incidentally, the picture above was taken just as we getting ready to leave, having used our ‘America the Beautiful‘ National Parks pass for the very first time. As entrance to the park is thirty bucks per carload, another two National Parks like this and our eighty buck pass will have paid for itself. Super.

A note about US National Parks, you can sometimes drive straight in and out without having to pay. So long as you don’t stop. Entrance fees cover parking and camping in most National Parks.

The other grand vista during our two night stay in Flagstaff was a trip to the Lowell Observatory. Yes, that Percival Lowell, the Martian Canal guy who also predicted the approximate position of ‘Planet X’ later named Pluto and stripped of it’s planetary status in 2006 by the IAU, which annoyed a lot of astronomers, some of whom have pointed out that if Pluto is not a planet, by the IAU’s rules, neither are Saturn or Earth. Which might come as a bit of a shock to all the carbon based life forms currently inhabiting our third rock from the sun.

The actual discovery was done by a Kansas farm boy working his way to getting an astronomy degree by the name of Clyde Tombaugh, who was not a proper astronomer because he hadn’t got a degree. At the time he discovered Pluto, he was the Lowell Observatories Grounds keeper and mailman. Afterwards he completed a distance learning degree. Which is one of the great things about science. It doesn’t matter what you are, if you discover something significant and enough academics pronounce your work sound and reproduceable, bingo! You just did proper science. As opposed to the kind of science where the data is warped to support a theory. Which isn’t scientific at all.

Elsewhere the lamestream news media is full of commentary from both right and left wing media pundits on why they don’t like Donald Trump. Who in turn has stated the bleedin’ obvious that the US Presidential election is rigged. Well of course it is. All you need is a working pair of Mark One eyeballs to see that simple fact for yourself. The Colorado non-primary where the Republican vote was cancelled and thirty delegates ‘awarded’ to the parties preferred candidate was one proof. Anyway, that’s all rather academic as far as I’m concerned. Just another sad indication that the globalist sponsors behind Clinton and Cruz don’t give a shit about what the average US citizen wants. It’s a closed contest, which only allows people with the ‘right’ views and supporters to get the top job.

Anyway. We’ve arrived in Albuquerque safe and sound, waiting for the hotel bar to open at five. Off to Amarillo tomorrow, thence Abilene, San Antonio and Houston to see what the Texans are really like.

TTFN

A grand day out

I don’t want to upset anyone. Well, yes I do, I just love annoying knuckledragging totalitarians with all the intellect of crushed cockroaches, but not today. Apart from to say we breakfasted in the elegant saloon of a restored 1800’s paddle steamer, rode the rails in a restored 1950’s first class rail carriage and generally had an affable time wandering around Sacramento’s Old town. Hell, the sun even came out this afternoon as the promise of rain receded. We’ve had a very nice day, and are now playing catch up with work related tasks.
A heavenly stairway
That’s it. I wish I had some tale of scurrilous sarcasm or pertinent put down to relate, but no, ’tis not to be. Well apart from noting (Yet again) that the Republican Party establishment is so dead set on losing the next US Presidential election, it’s been reduced to cancelling votes which might go the way of the people’s choice. Maybe they’re taking the same dollar as that backing the next Democrat (Cough, cough, Hilary Clinton) candidate? Sorry chaps, the Presidency (as usual) will go to the biggest vote of all; Wall Street.

No matter, the next leg of our epic road trip awaits. Onwards and up, upwards, into the mountains.

Blowouts on I-5

Long day yesterday, longer than we’d anticipated because of hanging around for some albeit very civil customs questions and another six and a half hours solid driving on I-5.  One of the things we did encounter was witnessing three truck blowouts, one of which I caught on camera. Here comes the boom  Big clouds of smoke and shredded truck tyre shooting across the highway.  Lots of swerving from nearby vehicles.  Bridges that make any on the M25 look small. while we were passing through I took some pictures of the northbound traffic as we were passing through Portland.  Reminded me of a Friday afternoon on the A40 out of late 1990’s London. Almost total gridlock.  No idea what the Westway’s like nowadays, but I do remember once taking an hour to go five miles.  Nowhere near that bad on our southbound run.  I-5 is also getting quite rutted around Portland, and being a concrete surface on that stretch can be pretty rough on the old rubber.  So tyre checks every morning and stop are a must.

We made our hotel just before seven in the evening and got directed to a very nice brew pub where free shot glass sized samples were provided to assist us in deciding what beers to have.  They take their brewing seriously in Oregon.  For those still thinking it’s all Coors and Budweiser, think again.

Parting shot.  Our accents mark us out for the curious; “From the UK. huh?” A portly Oregonian said.
“Yes, but we’re Canadian now.” Mrs S replied.
“That so?  Lot of people say they’re moving to Canada if Trump wins.”
“That might be a bit of a devils bargain.  We have Trudeau.  Are there a lot of heated conversations about Trump?” I asked diplomatically, not revealing my own feelings on the matter.
“In the media, yeah.  Elsewhere not so much. I’m an independent, I’m not bound to vote Republican or Democrat.”
Hmm. Interesting…

Cunning planning

Well, I’ve successfully planned our road trip from up here in the not so frozen north all the way down to Florida and our planned turnaround point. Hotels are booked as far as Jacksonville, just so’s I can get a chance to see the scheduled SpaceX launches for that week. After which we’re looking at Charleston for a few days to soak in the local Revolutionary and Civil War history. It’s taking a lot of discussion, argument, rolled eyes and subterfuge to agree on where to go and stay. Still, we’ve more or less agreed on where we want to be and what to do while we’re there. It’s proving a mammoth task, especially as Mrs S wants stuff all booked up in advance. Which I feel interferes with the spontaneity of the trip, but that’s where we’ve had to compromise. So far we haven’t quite threatened each other with divorce. Yet.

Minor frustrations aside, things are shaping up nicely. Mrs S did ask me if I’d buy her an Alligator skin handbag. I smiled and did my usual ‘yes dear’ until I saw the prices. A thousand bucks! Yikes!

No doubt whilst we’re down in the deep south we’ll have to dodge all the political campaigners. I’m watching with amusement as the Republican party upper echelons appear to want to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, simply because the current front running candidate is not “One of us.” and is more of a pragmatist than they’d like. As for the Democrats, I can’t see much of a choice from Bernie Sanders’ redistributionist policies and Hilary Clinton’s, the only difference between them is whose pockets the ‘redistributed’ wealth ends up in. Sure as hell won’t be the voters. Never is, never will be. But that’s left wing politics for you. The little guy always gets screwed, only the insiders ever get anything out of it.

Talking of people getting screwed by officialdom. In our municipality some dozy half wit passed the EDPA bylaw in 2012, which on the face of it isn’t much. Basically what the bylaw is supposed to do is to protect endangered species. Which is a laudable sentiment. Unfortunately, the road to hell being paved with good intentions as it is, this bylaw is in some places preventing people from mowing their lawns and repairing properties into which the rot has set. All in the name of ‘protecting the environment’. This bylaw is being enforced with such zeal that even the new Mayor wants it repealed. Which won’t happen. Because the problem is that the ‘green’ insanity is so entrenched in our locale that this will never happen. Which is why Mrs S and I won’t be buying a house in Saanich. Why bother buying a property when some silly bylaw takes a chunk off it’s value whenever your house needs repairing or the hedges need cutting back? What happens when you can’t lawfully trim the big tree in your yard that tries to put a branch through your bedroom window whenever there’s a windstorm? All in the name of ‘protecting’ the environment.

What the zealous enforcers do not seem to have a grip on (apart from reality) is that properties and land need maintenance. Like the environment. We live in a managed environment. Our houses are proof of this. 21st century man is not well adapted to living without the necessities of life like shelter, heating, fresh water on tap, sewage disposed of, light at the flick of a switch, clean dry clothing and food they don’t have to catch or grow themselves. What is it modern people do when deprived of these things? Oh yes, starve. I wonder how the enforcers would fare if deprived of these modern conveniences. Probably not well, although going onto a more survivalist footing might deprive them of the time they spend on gleefully interfering in the lives of others.

One thing I have promised myself this year is that I’m going to join the local fish and game association, do my gun safety course, get my license and buy a couple of rifles for Mrs S and I to do a little off duty plinking. We may even do a little hunting up Island. Maybe not. Fresh Game is nice for a special treat five or six times a year but it’s such a nuisance to prepare and process a whole animal just for two people.

From one ‘wassock’ to another

Investors showcase tonight, where people who call themselves ‘financial experts’ will be making a bid to increase our capital. Not that they will, I’ve seen these guys come and go (normally with your cash lining their pockets) over the years, and can’t help but think it’ll be a wasted evening. I’m only going for the freebies. When it comes to signing on the dotted, we Stickers have a limpet like hold on our resources and will no doubt come away from the event slightly bemused and waiting for the cold light of day to help us sort the real from the faecal cow residue.

In the meantime, I made time between coursework, work and cooking to have a look at the fuss over this Trump fellow. He certainly has polarised people hasn’t he? Out of the mouths etcetera.

My goodness, he hasn’t even won a nomination or even a primary, and a bunch of spineless gimps have already got their undergarments all rucked up.  If you believe what’s in most of the left leaning lamestream media, the floppy haired Barbarian is at the gates and we’re all dooomed if he so much as sets an ignorant, stupid foot within ten miles of elected office.  Stefan Molyneux on the other hand, no matter what you think of his sometimes apocryphal style, does one of his excellent dissections of what the lamestream get completely one hundred and eighty degrees from reality.

What the lamestream and their owners are all frightened about are that the Barbarian is complaining about the real barbarians who indulge in such things as, oo lemme see, rape attacks and sexual assaults and celebrating notorious terrorist attacks, which threatens the blatant gerrymandering and vote buying commonplace in the west. The real barbarians are not already inside the gates, but are messing up the living room, hogging the couch and Xbox with their booted feet up on the coffee table demanding more Nachos and playing grab-ass with every comely young female within reach. What’s worse is that these racist, sexist, hostile slimeballs can’t be kicked out because mainstream politicians need their fresh votes. Even worse is that many of the bad guys are second generation. Born and bred. Not simply ‘immigrants’.

As fans of the X-files will attest, the truth is most certainly out there, (but lies are definitely in your head) and as Stefan ably demonstrates, easily found courtesy of the jolly old Interweb. All you have to do is go to the source data, which is far more easily accessed if you’re prepared to do a little digging on your own account.

Like it or not, I’m tempted to believe my a strong suspicion that we’re at a cultural nexus, the kind that brings down civilisations. Such a collapse probably won’t happen in my lifetime (Despite rumours to the contrary – the people in charge have too far to fall), but if we carry on doing the same old thing, ducking the issues, subsidising, importing, pandering to and protecting a hostile culture, perhaps the western way of life and the prosperity it brings will be a fading memory by the end of the century. Some of the more philosophically short sighted out there might be tempted to think that this might be a good thing. I would disagree. Classical civilisation, for all it’s faults produced great art (A lot of which was defaced by zealous early Christians) and great literature (Which also fell victim to zealous early Christians). The arts and sciences fell into disarray for centuries afterwards. Anyone else see the parallel?

Which may be a comfort to our great grandchildren. Or not. Clinton’s the next US President anyway, she’s Wall Street and the lamestreams preferred candidate. Despite his wealth, I think Trump won’t even get a mention, but I wouldn’t be totally displeased if he won. Just to hear the outraged wailing and gnashing of teeth of sore losers.

Pass it on

Marthter William hath been complaining about our rethent lack of output here at the Bill Thticker Inthtitute of Free Thinking and Luncheth.  Even though our rankth hath been thinned by illneth, he’th told uth to “Potht thomething, anything, dammit.”  Tho here ith a little thomething for the revolutionary in your life.  Thome updated artwork for a truly honetht Che Guevara pothter. Jutht the theathonal gift for that chilly revolutionary thtudent bedthit.  Oh yeth, we’re pretty thure he hated gay people ath well.

Che Guevara

About the only thing we’re not thure about ith whether he hated the dithabled or not.  Thourthes?  Thtephan Molyneux theems to have the nathty bathtard down to a T.  Even Cathtro didn’t like him much.

Pity the Bolivianth could only thoot the evil thod onthe.

Sex and the thingle Igor

Thorry for the lakthity in pothting, but itth been hell down here. Igor hath caught a nathty computer virus, Igor is on a thtake out, and young Irog ith indithpothed with a bad cathe of dythlekthia. Dethpite all thethe perthonnel problemth, we at the Bill Thticker inthtitue for Irony and Thatire have notithed the reathonth behind all thethe nathty terrorith attacks and people lothing their headth to the Daeth. The prethident of Turkey hath been buying their oil, the Various Gulf thateth thent them money, and the United Thtateth ith thending them gunth.

Nonetheleth; over the weekend, the ladth fell to talking about that old perrennial, thex. You know, bonking, boinking, beatht with two backth, humping, shagging, fukcing and fornicathion, and how whole magathineth theem so fixthated by what ith, after all, a natural human functhion. Which ith, if one thinkth about it logically, ith rather like having magathineth dedicated to going to the toilet, although at thith point we recalled the experimetth of Great Uncle Igor, who briefly potheththed two penitheth. “Double the pleathure, double the fun.” Ath he wath moved to thay at the time. Great Aunt Igorina, a broad minded woman by all accountth, got thick of him fainting every time he and the were in the mood, tho he went back to jutht the one, tho they lived happily ever after.

Thith being the cathe, and after much discuthion, we thent young Igor out to find out what he could.

He found thith;

Which rather contradicth all thethe claimth of North American and European collegeth camputh ‘Rape’ culture, which ith, according to one of the nativeth ladieth, more of an African phenomenon. Thee her TED talk below.

Thith tendth to confirm Young Igorth experienth of Englith Colleges, where it wath not tho much ‘rape’ ath waking up in acute embarathment with the wrong Igorina after a heavy night on the embalming fluid. Thtorm, teacup. Ath marthter William ith wont to obtherve; “Nothing to see here folks. Move along.” Thame ath the whole ‘Thlutwalk’ protethth being originally bathed on one Ontario Politheman’th public pronounthement. It’th jutht activitth posing with their pet peeveth. Maybe if they had better thexth they’d be happier? Probably not.

The Marthter hath popped in on hith way home and pointed out that both hith thtepdaughterth went to two theparate Univerthities, and while they had thteady and not tho thteady boyfriendth during thothe timeth, neither young lady ever complained of anything untoward.   No young gentlemen of their acquaintanth ended up with their trthticleth for tonthilth either.  Ath would have happened if unwelcome advanceth had occurred.   Youngetht kickboxeth and Eldetht doeth Karate and Krav Maga tho we are told…….