Scrabbling Through The Rubble

…or, not all heroes are gunfighters.

I thought I’d share a few WhatsApp exchanges with y’all.  This is about SARZA, which is a privately-funded search & rescue organization based in South Africa (!), and which sent a team to help out in Turkey.  Here’s a first-hand account from one of the SARZA team:


A little background:
“Mark” is a skinny kid of about 23.  He’s also one of the top S&R operators in South Africa — hence his selection to join the SARZA team — and has been involved in countless life-and-death rescues all over South Africa.  He’s also a skilled drone pilot, which they use to find people in distress, pinpoint trouble spots and so on.

“Sally” is Mark’s mother, and her husband is New Wife’s brother (who just spent Christmas with us) so Mark is my nephew by marriage, so to speak.

Words cannot express our pride in him and his work.

Exposure

Some woman is griping about men (I know, what else is new?), specifically that men get grumpier as they get past the age of 25.

The anonymous poster took to the British parenting forum Mumsnet, where she explained that a friend once told her men get grumpier as they age – and now that she’s in her forties, she has noticed this in her male peers.

…and predictably, a bunch of other womyns pile on.

Allow me, then, to propose a counter-theory:

As men get older, their exposure to women increases and accumulates… and THAT’S what makes them progressively grumpier.

Of course, I may be wrong;  but you have to admit, it’s a valid argument.

“Dear Dr. Kim”

“Dear Dr. Kim:

“I’ve been on my fair share of dates, but after a difficult break-up nine months ago followed by a string of mediocre-at-best encounters, I’ve been feeling a bit hopeless about the modern dating landscape.

“I’m on three different dating apps but, to be honest, I’ve come very close to giving up altogether. Before I throw in the towel, however, I have decided to try something very different to my usual swipe-by-gut-instinct tactics.

“I am ‘astro-dating’ — choosing dates that are astrologically a good fit for me.

“So could cosmic dating help me bag a date for Valentine’s?

“The first challenge was finding men willing to give me their full birth chart without having ever met me. As anyone who has ever done internet dating knows, it’s hard enough to get past the swiping stage, and I admit several men ghosted me the second I mentioned star signs. Nonetheless, through a combination of ruthless flirting and the promise of free drinks, I managed to find six men who were game.

“Next up was a birth chart consultation with Yasmin Boland, astrologer and moonologer, to find out who, out of the six, I’d be most compatible with. Yasmin, a best-selling author, has been an internationally successful ‘spiritual guide’ for the past two decades and focuses on helping others find their path in life, work and, crucially, love through astrological compatibility.

“Am I on the right track?”

— Star-Struck, England

Dear Starfucked:

You didn’t mention visiting the Oracle at Delphi, or having a sacerdos consult the entrails of a chicken, so you may have missed a couple of steps on your voyage towards total insanity I mean romantic happiness.  (Oh, and by the way, the traditional term for “moonologer” is “lunatic”.)

Allow me to suggest a better filter system than relying on the light of stars which may or may not have already gone out, and it involves a simple checklist of questions.  Here it is:

  1. Do you have a favorite gun?  If so, which and why?
  2. What is your favorite alcoholic drink?
  3. Are you a vegetarian or vegan?
  4. Do you have a liberal arts degree, or else a degree in something that is actually worth anything in the job market?
  5. Do you believe in astrology or unicorns?
  6. Turbo-charged V6 or naturally-aspirated V12?
  7. Do you own, or want to own a Prius?
  8. Do you believe that the only reason that socialism has failed everywhere it has been tried is because it just hasn’t been implemented properly?

Now, the answers:

  1. “I don’t like guns” — immediate disqualification.  “Glock” — not a disqualification, but understand that some work may be necessary.  “Do you mean handgun, rifle or shotgun?” — definitely a candidate for romance.
  2. “I don’t like alcohol” — immediate disqualification.  “Chablis/IPA” — not a disqualification, but understand that some work may be necessary. “Wine grown on the sunny slopes of…” — poseur alert, your call.  “Whatever gets me drunk quickest” — you may want to be careful with this one.  Or not.  “Depends on the occasion, the company and my mood” — strong candidate.
  3. “Yes” — run FAR away.
  4. “Liberal Arts” — approach with caution;  needs clarification (e.g. Anything Studies: no).  “Engineering” — considerable work may be necessary.  “Never saw the need for a degree, because I wanted to start my own construction business” — strong candidate.
  5. “Yes” — run away.
  6. “Neither because they’re causing climate change” — immediate disqualification.  “Actually, a turbo 4-cylinder is all I need” — not a bad answer, but be careful, especially if also an IPA-drinker.  “Well, I like both, but I prefer off-roading in my old truck” — strong candidate.
  7. “Yes” — run away.
  8. “Yes” — run FAR away.

These simple questions will be all the pre-qualifiers you’ll ever need.

Or you can just choose the astrological / chicken entrails path, you fucking loser.

Watchful Eyes

Over in Britishland, a young mother named Nicola Bulley has gone missing while taking her dog for a walk one evening a couple weeks ago.  There have been all sorts of theories (coupled with the usual bollocks from people unrelated to the case who have nothing better to do with their lives):  that she fell into a river along her walk, that she was kidnapped, that she decided to do a runner (leaving behind her two small children), and so on.

No investigations have turned up anything at all — the Britcops are getting all sorts of crap for their slipshod investigation — and her disappearance has remained to date a complete mystery.

(Here’s a sample of articles on the topic.)

Here’s what disturbs me about all this.  For a small village, there sure must be a boatload of CCTV cameras around.  Here’s a photo map of the “blind spots” in the CCTV coverage — which are tiny — which means that there’s an awful lot of geography that’s apparently covered, and isn’t a blind spot.

To me, this means that surveillance cameras Over There are practically ubiquitous.  One might expect, perhaps, that densely-populated urban areas might have cameras all over the place (as seen in the gloomy 2006 Red Road  movie);  but in a remote little village like St. Michaels-On-Wyre?

I bet it’s not just in Britishland, either;  it’s probably growing Over Here, too;  and that gives me the creeps.

Of course, if anyone has proof that this is not the case, then I stand corrected.

News Roundup

Sponsored (unofficially) by:

…for reasons that will become clear.


I used to think like Stephen.  Nowadays, however...


...Granholm again, the loathsome Green bitch.  And speaking of people who need killing:


...having previously rejected using unicorn breath as being “perhaps unrealistic”.


...next: “Climate change causes assault weapons violence.”

And from the Dept. of Education:


...and for once, the story is even better than the headline.


...as the great Roger Sterling once said, when asked the first question: “Who cares?”

And in the Furrin News Dept:


...return to skiing, that is.  His girlfriend has apparently left him for “someone who can satisfy me”.


...South African thieves are upset because he died before they could rob him.


...an actual fake headline.


...we have warned before about getting close to foreign phallic monuments, which drive Muslim men crazy, it appears.


...key word:  Sweden.


...to make sex also illegal in the Red Light district.

As for SHOWBIZ INSIGNIFICA:

 

  …whatever.

From the Dept. of Dubious Truth (sponsored by the New York Times):


...edited for reasons of space.


...okay, maybe that’s not quite accurate.


...but will only accept trannie women because inclusivity.

As for Leilani:

Skinny, but delectable nevertheless.