Folk Symmetry

I take the bus to work so I have time to read, listen to music, and think. When I use that time to think, dangerous things sometimes happen. Today en route to work I thought. On thinking, I realized that there is an interesting symmetry between Folk Philosophy and Formal Philosophy. Specifically, there is a Folk Tool that is a Formal Fallacy and there is a Formal Tool that is a Folk Fallacy. Cool huh?

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Fear Politics

I got a disgustng little mailing today from an MP outside my riding, Bev Shipley. It's a picture of a hypodermic in a playground with the ominous text "safe?" -- a clear though quiet attack on the safe injection sites which are a thorn (lol) in conservative sides as they seem to be working.

It's basically a "tough on crime" announcement (indicating an election in fall I'm betting) telling me I should be terrified because junkies are loose on the streets stabbing kids, raping dogs, and being really stoned. It says they all need to go to jail or be forced into rehab (neither of which actually seem to help people with addictions get off them). Oddly, however, they point to climbing drug-related crime and claim it's all the Liberal's fault even though Conservatives have been in power the last while -- you know, during the climb in crime rates.

Oh yeah and junkies (the term they decide to use -- real professional, gang, and I use that term carefully) will ruin the Olympics. See also: China.

So obviously I'm supposed to be terrified and vote for the politicians that will save me by jailing everyone unsafe.

Sorry morons, here's the scoop:

When you tell me something, make it a fact or fuck off.
When you tell me a fact, back it up or fuck off.
When you prove a fact and claim it's a problem, supply an argument or fuck off.
When you demonstrate a fact is a problem, provide a solution or fuck off.
Make sure your solution is based on, say, science. Not your gut instinct that the right thing to do is bury everyone not like you. Real study. Real science. I would like an inkling that our next government is interested enough in solving real problems to reliably identify them and find out what to do from experts rather than 17th century criminology. Or fuck off.

So basically, Conservatives can fuck off. You've made it clear you have no interest in actually fixing anything. You just want me to be afraid and run to daddy. I don't want my government to be daddy. I'm a democratic citizen. I'm the leader. I'm daddy. I tell you to mow the lawn and you get it fucking mowed. Give me a government that will mow the fucking lawn.

Apologies for all the fucking.


Transubstantiation is the (largely Catholic) tenet that when a communion wafer is appropriately blessed it literally becomes the body of Christ (and is now called the "host"). This tenet has led many, Christians among them, to ridicule Catholicism. However, the issue is not so simple and in misreading the Catholic position, these Christians undermine their own position.

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La Quercia

stimps covers it pretty damned well -- there's a new restaurant in town. It's an elegant little Italian place called La Quercia. The food is wickedly good, the staff is friendly and efficient, and, best of all IT'S ONE BLOCK AWAY! Holy shit I have died and gone to live in heaven -- a great restaurant in walking distance (even when Jack's back is bad) is all I really want out of life some days.

Dominican Hedonism

I bought a couple of short and fat Dominican cigars -- Excaliburs -- to try out. They aren't the specific cigar that substitute recommended, but they were thick, dark, and expensive. It turns out they are also kind of finicky.

First, it's a lovely cigar. The band is very decorative and the foot is fat, tapering to a much thinner sucking bit. This baffled me and ruined the first one. It lit easily and burned evenly and prettily but for the life of me I could not get a draw through my punched hole. I then tried to clip it and mutilated then end. Despite this mutilation it never gave up any useful amount of smoke which was very frustrating. Worse, it smelled great and was gorgeous to watch burn -- the ash was a thick white pillowy affair that struck the ground with an audible clomp. Very satisfying.

The second one I figured out. I punched it and lit it and tried to get a draw from it (just in case I had one bad cigar) but still no go. I found, though, that if I squeezed and rotated the mouth end a little it loosened up hugely and suddenly the draw was quite good. Never great, mind you, and that manipulation had to be repeated a couple of times as the mouth end got moist, but satisfying finally. It was an expensive lesson, but now if I'm ever handed an Excalibur I'll know what to do with it.

My cigar shop has ordered in a raft of Hemingway Short Storys for me (the original recommendation). Looking forward to those.


It's fucking hot. Two industrial fans are keeping up the airflow, but it's still hot. I'm drinking ice cold San Pelligrino Limonata with gin (Hendrick's, like you need to ask) but it's still hot. I cannot think. It's hot.
  • Current Music
    When The Sun Sets Down South // 1937-1938 by Sidney Bechet

As I threatened, D&D 4th edition

Tonight we ran our first 4th ed. session. We spent a good fraction of it creating several characters to get a feel for what was possible. We only have two players and a GM, so we were not going to get role coverage and we resolved to run strict rules with open rolls in order to see the gears mesh, as it were. We wound up with a paladin and a ranger.

Some fun role-playing opened up our session, introducing some NPCs that will be relevant to the broader story arc I have in mind, but soon got down to the nitty-gritty: the archaeology dig is beset by kobolds. Go root them out! Straight dungeon crawl: an excuse to test the combat system and little more, really.

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