Exactly. Memento mori, bitch.
There was a part of Brave New World where one of the elite class thought it was unfair that the same amount of chemicals were recovered from their cremations as from the underclasses. I wish I could find the quote.
Last I checked, he was on “AI is going to create the Antichrist, which is a good thing because we’ll be able to breed the Kwizatz Haderach to defeat it”, with some weird kind of schismatic Catholic accelerationism mixed in.
Science fiction is kind of lost on a person like this.
Not unfair, just strange:
Following its southeasterly course across the dark plain their eyes were drawn to the majestic buildings of the Slough Crematorium. For the safety of night-flying planes, its four tall chimneys were flood-lighted and tipped with crimson danger signals. It was a landmark.
“Why do the smoke-stacks have those things like balconies around them?” enquired Lenina.
“Phosphorus recovery,” explained Henry telegraphically. “On their way up the chimney the gases go through four separate treatments. P2O5 used to go right out of circulation every time they cremated some one. Now they recover over ninety-eight per cent of it. More than a kilo and a half per adult corpse. Which makes the best part of four hundred tons of phosphorus every year from England alone.” Henry spoke with a happy pride, rejoicing whole-heartedly in the achievement, as though it had been his own. “Fine to think we can go on being socially useful even after we’re dead. Making plants grow.”Lenina, meanwhile, had turned her eyes away and was looking perpendicularly downwards at the monorail station. “Fine,” she agreed. “But queer that Alphas and Betas won’t make any more plants grow than those nasty little Gammas and Deltas and Epsilons down there.”
“All men are physico-chemically equal,” said Henry sententiously. “Besides, even Epsilons perform indispensable services.”
Thank you for that. I have a very nice Easton Press edition. I need to read it again. (Actually, I have a stack of leather-bound tomes I need to read or re-read. (Currently reading 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea on my lunch breaks.)
Such a great story.
Full disclosure: This is not Easton Press. It’s Waldenbooks. Still (ostensibly) leather.
A bullet had found him
His blood ran as he cried
No money could save him
So he laid down and he died
Ooh, what a lucky man, he was
Ooh, what a lucky man, he was
HOA president in Florida decides to pull a “Do you know who I am?” on a 12-year-old who was committing the grave offense of sitting down near a tennis court, then assaults him and steals his bicycle.
What is it with HOA officials?
The stereotype is that HOA presidents are practicing fascists, just waiting for the opportunity for bigger things.
A more nuanced interpretation might be some guy who wasn’t smart enough to out-mouth a pre-teen brat about obeying a silly rule, and descended, possibly only momentarily, into bullying.
For a split-second read that as “bigger thugs”.
Would an otherwise emotionally healthy adult pull the “Do you know who I am? I’m the president or of the HOA!!”
He assaults a 12-year old, steals the bike and then when the police first contacted him, he initially refused to return the bike before relenting.
someone who didn’t feel entitled to bully would be mortified with his actions and looking for ways to rectify the situation as soon as he calmed down, and not arguing with the police that he had a right to keep a stranger’s bike.
Momentary lapses involve screaming, perhaps, but not assault and not stealing bikes.
It’s like in academia. Because the stakes are so small.
I briefly worked for the government of a small city (so small they didn’t have a dedicated police force, just a couple of county sheriff deputies who would moonlight and fill in). And this is totally consistent with my experience. When all you have are small issues, they get inflated out of proportion so much.
If you’ve ever watched the show Parks and Recreation, and seen how little minor things become massively important to people in the community, it’s eerily similar to the kinds of stuff I’d see at that job.
Yeah, for all that people talk about Big Government vs. local government, local government is Big Government. The Feds would never bother with trivialities like what color you can paint your house. But the lower the level of government, the more they micromanage their people. HOAs are invented by people who like tyranny so much that even city governments aren’t big enough for them.
One of the better HOA-style uproars is taking place in a desolate area of western South Dakota, where survivalists who’ve purchased “luxury bunkers” are getting into it.
“You can’t kill me - this is a survivalist community!”
Actor Nick Pasqual has been sentenced to 32 year to life for the attempted murder of his estranged girlfriend (this phrase bothers me. At the moment you decide to kill your significant other, in my eyes, that’s pretty much ending the relationship).
He was convicted of attempted murder, first-degree burglary, forcible rape, and injuring a spouse, cohabitant, fiancé, boyfriend, girlfriend, or a child’s parent.
According to the district attorney, “He was found guilty of multiple felonies, including attempted murder and rape, spanning from January 2024 to May 23, 2024, when Mr. Pasqual broke into his estranged girlfriend’s home and stabbed her over 20 times. Allie Shehorn miraculously survived and courageously stood before her abuser in court to testify about the brutality she endured. Her trial testimony was crucial in securing a guilty verdict so Mr. Pasqual could no longer be free to hurt anyone else. Today at his sentencing, she gave a powerful victim impact statement.”
I have to give her an enormous amount of credit and respect for facing him in court and recalling the abuse she suffered, and for surviving the incidents in the first place.
I didn’t recognize Nick Pasqual’s name so I Googled. Some articles described him as a “How I Met Your Mother actor”, which is odd, given that he appeared in one episode in the seventh season.