I don't want to work in the city, I don't want to commute there, I sure as hell don't want to live there. It's not going to get better, either. My desire to avoid Chicago is borne entirely of self-preservation, and I'm in "condition orange" the entire time I'm in the city.
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California's energy policies have led to this. California residents and businesses have been advised that they'd best prepare for blackouts, because California's capacity for generating electricity has outstripped demand for electricity.
No one is allowed to build power plants there. No one is allowed to drill for oil. And so California is now basically a third-world country.
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The liberal establishment refuses to talk about the Orlando shooter's identity. Because he was a gay muslim Democrat, of course. (If he'd been a white Baptist Republican, it would be hammered home in every other sentence.)
The media doesn't like to talk about the seedy underbelly of the gay community. It doesn't fit the narrative; and of course we must never, never, ever be critical of muslims.
Besides, even acknowledging the fact that the shooting was the result of muslim fanaticism is counterproductive to the message, which is that guns cause murder. And the left simply could not wait to start dancing in the victims' blood and trot out the same tired remedy: we must ban guns now. If he shot up the nightclub because he's a self-hating gay and because his religion commands him to kill homosexuals, then the gun was just a tool and not the cause. We can't have that!
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If you don't already know that these power tools are hazardous, you shouldn't even be using scissors. I read this post expecting something interesting, but none of it was, because it's all pretty obvious. I resisted learning to use a circular saw for years because they frankly terrify me. Ditto for chainsaws. Holy crap--human skin is much softer than wood and these things tear wood up, so believe me I have a healthy respect for the damned things.
But the risks of using the tools can be managed, and if you're careful you can do fantastic things with them. And once you've used them a few times you get a better idea of how they work, and how they can be dangerous, and eventually you realize that they're not going to rear back and bite you unless you do something very stupid. (Disabling safety interlocks, for example.) You must pay attention to what you're doing, of course, lest there be an accident, but while these tools are hazardous they are only dangerous if you are cavalier about their use.
What the hell--a steak knife can be deadly. A pencil. It's all how you use it.
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Finished watching the second season of The Knick last night. Mrs. Fungus saw the plot twist coming, I didn't; score one for her.
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Yesterday, I wore shorts to work.
Now, I didn't break any rules; the dress code says we can wear shorts as long as they reach the knee. I just needed to find the shorts I had which do that; most of my shorts end about six inches higher. They're really comfortable but not fit for work.
When I was in the PC Hardware department at Rockwell, in 1998, we were allowed to wear shorts then, too. Mainly it was because our "lab" was a cage opposite the loading docks, and it was frequently pretty warm in there. So I bought a couple pairs of jeans shorts. Mrs. Fungus doesn't like them, so I lost track of where they were, but yesterday I decided I wanted to wear them to work.
Couldn't find them, but I knew I had a pair in the dresser, so I opened one drawer and found a pair of shorts that I'd forgotten I had. They fit and were suitable for passing the strictures of work's dress code, so I put them on; then I thought the better of it and looked in a different drawer to find the pair I'd been thinking of.
Tried them on, could not button them. Well, it's been thirteen plus years since I last wore them; I consigned them to the "donate" pile and put on the other pair. They were very, very comfortable.
That's the first time I've worn shorts to work since 2009.
The interesting thing is, for the first time in my life I work in a place where even I can get chilly. That's never happened before; everyplace else I've worked, the thermostat has been adjusted for the thin-blooded. Like my father before me I run about five degrees hotter than everyone else, and when most people around me are complaining about how cold it is I'm wishing I had a fan.
But several times in the past month or so I've found myself wanting to be a little warmer.
I don't know why. I've heard some people opine it's for the computers, but that's not so; the typical desktop computer will function just fine with an ambient air temperature of 90°F and in fact the CPU tends to run even hotter than that. My thinking is that it's mainly because the thermostat is controlled by people who work in the offices around the periphery of the call center, and the ventilation in those rooms isn't as good as it is on the floor, and so the thermostat must be down rather far for those offices to be at a reasonable temperature.
I'd bet on that, in fact.