Well THIS Mega Bites

Showing considerable predictive skills, poet Robert Burns wrote, in 1785, that "the best laid plans o' mice an' men gang aft agley." And we assume that he was referring to computer mice, because that's the infernal device that has had its way with us like a brute named "Jackhammer" in the prison shower.

Oh, we began the day confidently enough, even making plans to attend a movie - an experience which is somewhat problematic for us as previously outlined in these pages. But we went anyway, reserving the wrong seats online (and dashing around at the theater to get moved to a better row). We then sensed impending trouble when the theater patron about 5 seats away started coughing phlegmatically and, when the pre-show trailers came on, guffawing loudly at the antics of some animated M&M's. Sure enough, he proved to be one of those persons who seems to believe he can affect the outcome of a film by shouting helpful advice to those onscreen.

The movie was Clint Eastwood's "Richard Jewell," a very solid and well-crafted film revolving around the events of the Atlanta Olympic bombing and the poor security guard who discovered the backpack bomb and was then blamed for it.

Eastwood handles the material fairly, and shows how the government and media can destroy an innocent person not because they're being evil, but because they're being assholes. Which, of course, we're still seeing today in a big way.

In any event, the film gets a "thumbs up" from Stilton's Place, especially if you can watch it with no Tourette's sufferers in the immediate proximity. Also, the "scope" of the film is such that it will play fine on your home television if you don't catch it in a theater.

ANYway, we got back home and prepared to write a lovely blog post and...our principle piece of software for the job was screwed beyond belief. Beyond what was even theoretically possible, bending the laws of time, space, and physics to blow a hot raspberry in our face.

We labored for hours to no avail, and decided that our only realistic course of action was to mutter an expletive, drink four (count 'em!) glasses of Clan MacGregor, and then see what we could write for today when our eyes were out of focus.

You're welcome!

Starting the Year with a Bang

We're feeling slightly ill today (this is what happens when you look at a whole year of news in too short a time), so we're going to let the cartoons do the heavy lifting today...

It's a lot funnier than when Hillary said the same thing.

"Hail, Tinnitus!"

Before attending the debate, candidates are urged to update their dental records.

Code Hearted

Joe Biden brought little joy to the nation's coal miners when, in a recent "No Malarkey and Damn Little Poppycock" campaign speech, he acknowledged the job insecurity they face owing to the Democrats' quixotic war on fossil fuels.

Fortunately, Gropin' Joe was ready to present himself as the dim light at the end of the tunnel and told the miners that getting new employment under the Biden administration would be easy-peasy if they just learn to write computer code.

"Anybody who can go down 3,000 feet in a mine can sure as hell learn to program as well," Biden enthused. "Anybody who can throw coal into a furnace can learn how to program, for God's sake!"

Yeah! And if you can chop down a giant tree, you can sure as Shinola become a brain surgeon! And if you can bench press 300 pounds in the gym, you can damn well learn to be a quantum physicist! God love ya, get off your ass!

Putting Joe's somewhat questionable logic aside, he's telling fairly well-paid miners to learn a new, difficult, and constantly changing skill in which they'll be competing with roughly half a billion people, largely from Asian nations, who will happily write first rate computer code for $3 a day, a bowl of rice, and a few fish heads.

Moreover, Joe seems to be forgetting that computers need more than code to run on. They need electricity...and if the Dems succeed in closing the mines and coal-fired power plants, computers will go just as dark as every home and business in America.

Which, granted, will finally be a chance for the miners to make some money by selling the rest of us helmets with little lights on them.