Wake up and smell the science

I’m fed up with Trumpoidism and its cohort of delusional syndromes. Decided to fight back on this lie being peddled to someone at high risk of dying from COVID.

I do not expect anybody to enjoy reading this. It is merely documentary, “just for the record.” I’m not posting it because I think it will have any effect on J’s thinking. I’m only posting it to go on record against such thinking.

On November 22, 2020, M. told me that J. believes Non-contact Infrared Thermometers pose a danger to the brain and that it is better to use it on the wrist instead of the head.

If she wanted to know the truth, it is right there at J’s fingertips. But she thinks she already has the truth and need not look further.

I ran a web search (in my favorite secure browser) on the question, “Do electronic thermometers harm the brain?” In a second, I got a massive number of search results from all sorts of agencies, news outlets, fact-checking organizations, medical and science experts in hospitals and university medical schools, etc. saying, “NO.”

What is J. teaching her grandchildren about how to find out the truth? It’s scary.

J’s electronically controlled bidet attachment toilet seats and their remote control devices radiate more signals than an infrared thermometer, because the thermometers do not emit infrared light.

Infrared sensors do not EMIT infrared. They DETECT it.

There are some legitimate scientific challenges to the accuracy of
non-contact infrared thermometers (NCIT) under certain circumstances, such as measuring temperatures of kids in athletic activities to see if they are over-heated, but there is NO EVIDENCE that they damage any part of the brain, because they DO NOT “EMIT INFRARED RADIATION” as the ignorant gullible victims of sick liars are saying.

J. is not a scientist, and does not think like one, does not read like one, does not review information like one. That is only one part of why she is so easily duped by such lies. The bigger part is that there is something about her sense of things that makes her WANT to believe incredible, proven false stories claiming to be factual.

This thermometer horse-crap has been debunked by authorities since the use of these thermometers became so popular because of COVID. I’ve seen reports dating back to February 2020 debunking the myth.

This doesn’t matter to cult-oriented minds immersed in illusory superiority, the false sense that one’s knowledge, ability, competence or other power (such as paranormal or above-normal spiritual perception, intuition or insight) is superior to others despite the facts. It can be called ignorance of incompetence. This pseudo-intellectual distortion driving false beliefs will deny truth the opportunity to get in the way of belief, simply because the operating force of denial, the chemistry of it in the brain, feels good to the believer. It’s like a self-generated magic potion saturating the mind in artificial self-esteem.

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Nuala’s Painting

In my essay, Angel Wing; An Illustrated Meditation on Nature Immersion, I mentioned Morris Mountain, with a picture of part of it.

If you’ve been following this blog, you’ve heard of Nuala, the non-resident Balsamean. She has been learning watercolor painting. She liked Morris Mountain enough to invest in it. Below is the photo, and her painted rendition, which is framed under glass in my bathroom with two old favorite photos. Thanks again, Nuala.

I’m glad to have another original piece in this little house.  I have a massive collection of photos of art in all media throughout the ages on my computer, but very little original art in the house.  There are a few nice prints that my parents gave me ages ago.  There are some framed photos, all mine except one forest scene from a friend.

The dominant piece is a painting by another watercolor student, Vivian Smithwick, that she framed and gave me as a gift 43 years ago in Portsmouth, Virginia.  Still in the same frame.  I doubt she’s still painting.  If she is, she would have to be well over a hundred years old.  She left me better than she found me.

Untitled Watercolor by Vivian Smithwick, 1976

Now I have a second original painting, from the early works of the only person who can ever be a non-resident Balsamean.  If she made the picture with crayons and the skill of a three year old, I’d cherish it as much or more.  (No offense to three year olds.)

You may think a bathroom is an odd home for a cherished watercolor, but think more.  It hangs in the most conspicuous place of all the walls in the house.  It is above the primary bath towel bar, across from the toilet, beside the shower.  It gets a lot of viewer “hits.”  No, bathroom moisture won’t hurt it.  It’s sealed under glass.

I’ll insert the picture below as intensive practice for learning not to care what people think of me, for Nuala’s sake:

Nuala’s picture is the one on the left. I’m patting myself on the back for getting a shot in such a small room that includes everything I included in my description of the picture’s location.

I am not jaded by all the years of looking at these two other pictures, old photos.  They are more than pictures.  They are moments, situations, experiences, people.

The new painting is all of that plus relationships with nature and with a person, the longest sustained, continually positive and productive human relationship of any kind I’ve had in my adult life.

Marvel of Modern Science

TIME OUT FROM COVID FOR CLASSICS

I don’t know why I can’t watch this without laughing, my also being a marvel of modern science.  This is a 20-second clip from a five-minute video:

Link to the video: https://youtu.be/dIzw6KKZLgA

Doctor:  Do you think there’s anything wrong with your mind really?
Randall: Not a thing, Doc.  I’m a goddam marvel of modern science.

From One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975) for which Louise Fletcher (Nurse Ratched) & Jack Nicholson (R.P. McMurphy) won Oscars.  You knew she had ratcheted up the Academy’s attention by ten clicks with her strangulation face …

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It’s one world NOW, huh?

“Dance” by Henri Matisse, 1909

I never paid much attention to this Matisse painting until recently when I added it to my screen saver collection. I now see that Matisse’s dancers are all women. Good. That’s the stuff of a one-world mind, because men are feudal. Women are the more evolved half of humanity. I’m not kidding.

In a pandemic, everyone is responsible for everyone else in the world. Everyone fights for everyone to win. If they don’t do it together, it cannot be done. The virus will continue to flourish. We walk and stand together or fall down together. Frankly, that’s a scary thought.

THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS IF WE DON’T ALL WASH OUR HANDS. Photo: Spencer Tunick Arrow To Washington, NYC, 1995

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Australia Black Summer Untold? And Slicing Songs.

I promise that if you stay with this post to the end, you won’t be sorry.  If you start feeling sorry, feel free to just jump to the end!

I want to follow-up on my post of January 3, 2020, I Am Australian Today.  I’m concerned that it will be forgotten because the news media have moved on to the latest crises.  I’m not letting go of it.  I want to remember that we ARE STILL all burning together.  Watch what happens when Antarctica starts dropping whole worlds of ice into the ocean, which is coming soon to a planet near you.  Have you heard?  Greenland is pouring ice melt water into the ocean at a rate equivalent to the mass of 2,000 elephants per second!  No kidding.  I saw an ice expert who studies Greenland say it.

I owe it to myself to not let rapacious news feeds — including the best of them on public broadcast services — feed on my attention as though it were theirs to consume, not mine to apply.  And there is no more important news than the planet’s ability to sustain life (as we know it and depend on it).

I’m not certain that humanity really should continue to exist.  Maybe it’s time we went the way of the dinosaurs (although they did not kill their own world).  Fine.  But we don’t have the right to destroy the world for all the other species.

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Follow-up re: No Juice for Presidential Candidates in Syria

In my post on Thursday Feb. 20, 2020, Experts all over say shame on UN, international community, I wrote (referring mainly to Syria), “Now to queue up a recording of tonight’s Las Vegas Democrat presidential candidate debate and see how much air time they gave to striving to act decisively and comprehensively on negotiating help for our worst humanitarian crises around the world, or maybe just one of them.”

It was not on their agenda.  We can’t ignore that, nor the fact that the so-called “moderators” are not pressing for answers to the biggest cases of state-sponsored war crimes and humanitarian disasters in the world.  The “moderators” in these mockeries of debates are no better than the candidates they toy with.  They’re not debates.  They’re boxing matches.

We’re fortunate to have a reader here, Emilie, who wrote a comment on my prior post, pointing out Scott Simon’s editorial on the same topic on Saturday morning.  I added this to my earlier post, but wanted to make sure Emilie’s gift got seen, and I’ve added a couple more things here, to rattle Western minds with the bones of babies literally frozen to death in Syria:

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Blog sharing and Like buttons no more

Because the Internet Age has developed in a way that makes everything about you into products used for abuses by unregulated hyper-capitalism (the National Religion of America, the other NRA) and all manner of spies, hackers, boneheads and creeps, I limit the amount of myself they can trade on.  This is reflected in the following blogging practices that apply to all readers here …

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Experts all over say shame on UN, international community

What do I say? Hey, there’s always another war. Get over it. Except for this: the human devastation of this war just keeps getting worse, and the UN and international leading countries aren’t doing anything (relatively speaking) about it. Syria is not a local problem. It is a global one, for a number of reasons. As we avoid responsibility for it, we condemn ourselves.

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