One more windmill to fight
Parallel universe or rut; you decide. I’ve been wasting my evening by watching the X Factor.
Is it like American Idol? Sure. Same Simon, same Paula. Singers performing songs made famous by others (karaoke by any other name). Big prize for the winner. Voting. But is it different enough to distract me until the next season of AI? Hardly.
On to other things. I’ve received a long awaited cable (disambiguation: no connection to telegram). Special, rare connector. Ten pins with purpose. And I’m still afraid to take the next step. I’ve asked for assistance on a couple of forums, with no response. I understand the basic premise. From there to actually plugging expensive components together and waiting to see if the sacred smoke gets out… not yet.
Our Mighty Mayor is in Paris (good road trip, if you can get it). He now wants to “take on” the perceived problem of too much English in France. Holy Toledo (that was where the Man of La Mancha hung out, wasn’t it?). Give this man a windmill, and he’ll move the earth (or was that Archimedes?). Pardon the mixed references, but that’s the result of a city ruled by soemone with ADHD who refuses medication.
Just in case you were getting complacent, now that conflicts in Afghanistan and Libya are winding down for our armed forces: the government has discovered a place called Syria. No firm plan, yet, but idle hands, etc. Don’t unpack the gear just yet, homies.
And we might not get all of our new planes in time for Christmas (2023). Santa, Santa, Santa.
