Fizz.

You're hot, tired, and thirsty. How about a nice cold beer?

Nah, no drinking beer at work.

Okay, how about a sodie pop to give you some delicious soft-drink refreshment? 

Nah, the sugar is fattening. 

Maybe some fruit juice?

Nah, that's all loaded with sugar too, even if it's natural.

Iced coffee, then, or iced tea?

Caffeine. Insomnia, nervousness, restlessness, nausea, increased heart rate, headache, anxiety, and chest pain.

Well, all right, how about some diet soda? 

Nah, the artificial sweeteners are said to cause gas, bloating, diarrhea, stroke, heart disease, and I'm still thinking about cancer even though that was fifty years ago and pretty much disproved. And death! Maybe death! 

OKAY OKAY! Here! Have some seltzer! It's cold! It's fizzy! It has NOTHING ELSE IN IT! It couldn't possibly harm you! 

That's what you think! 

🦷🦷🦷

Yes, it's true -- according to an Italian report last April in the journal Nutrients ("Damage from Carbonated Soft Drinks on Enamel: A Systematic Review"), "An abuse of carbonated acid substances leads to an increase in the possibility of dental erosion with consequent structural disintegration and reduction of the physical and mechanical properties of the enamel. There is thus greater bacterial adhesion on rougher surfaces, determined by the erosive process, and therefore a greater risk of caries." You read that right -- drinking seltzer water or club soda that contains nothing else at all is bad for you, because the minuscule amount of carbolic acid in fizzy drinks will rot the teeth out of your head. You've heard of meth mouth? Meet soda smile.

But really, how dangerous is it? As the old saying goes, the poison is in the dose. How many carbonated drinks a day is considered abuse? The report does not say. It just scares us with some pictures of damaged teeth and tells us to drink water and eat fruit (which, just sayin', is loaded with sugar).  

Now, of all people, the American Dental Association dropped a flag on this one, God bless 'em. Yes, they say, "any drink with carbonation—including sparkling water—has a higher acid level" than water, but "sparkling water is generally fine for your teeth". Why? "In a study using teeth that were removed as a part of treatment and donated for research, researchers tested to see whether sparkling water would attack tooth enamel more aggressively than regular lab water. The result? The two forms of water were about the same in their effects on tooth enamel. This finding suggests that, even though sparkling water is slightly more acidic than ordinary water, it's all just water to your teeth."

The ADA still maintains that fluoridated water is where it's at for teeth health, but standard oral care ought to prevent any damage from carbolic acid in sugarless drinks (although they do add that sodas with natural citrus flavors will likely have a stronger level of acid). 

So, it's the usual hullabaloo-- small studies question the safety of an innocent pleasure, meta study combines results to set off a panic. Study authors never get money or notoriety for proving that something is harmless, unless they are so deep in the pocket of an industry that they're covered in lint, in which case they may be completely insane ("smoking prevents asthma!"). 

Today's medical journals are part of the campaign to make everyday life miserable. We must have schools that don't teach, jobs that don't pay, appliances that don't work, chemicals that are so safe they do nothing. Go suck water out of the tap, plebe. 

Well, the hell with it. Seltzer is only dangerous if you shoot it in your face, and I'm standing by that opinion. 

Banana peels are a danger to the same segment of the population, by the way. Just a little caution.

Auuuughtumn.

Well, as predicted, Halloween arrived early this year, and arrives earlier every year. I remember complaining to a store chain once about Halloween candy on display in August. This is from the box store on Friday, July 28. 

Because you need a tremendous bag of SpongeBob
Halloween candy in July.

And the grocery store yesterday, July 29. 

Well, that's just candy, right? Not like the whole store has given up on summer and started in with fall. 

Ha:

We are one month and nine days from the start of summer; the end of summer does not arrive for another two solid months. But sure, break out the fall stuff. 

I know, I know, no one goes by the equinoxes and solstices. They go by Memorial Day and when does school start, by Christmas and maybe -- because spring always gets short shrift -- when can I start my tomato plants. 

Rushing the seasons in a retail setting has to be the fault of the consumer, ultimately. If we weren't willing to buy a five-pound sack of fun-size spooky-themed Nestlé bars* in July, they wouldn't sell it. Picture the scene at PlastiCrapCo:

🌞🌅🩳🏄

"Johnson! Get in here!"

"Yes, sir?"

"And none of that! You know what my pronouns are now!"

"Yes, xir!"

"Better. Johnson, pool noodle sales are down 15 percent since three weeks ago. The surge from the start of the season, which began during Easter, is decidedly over."

"Yes, xir, but it's not like pool and barbecue season is over. People will be having fun in the sun for more than a month yet."

"'Fun in the sun.' What would they teach you in marketing class if those words didn't rhyme? If I ever hear you say 'yummy in the tummy,' I will not be responsible for my actions."

"Sorry, xir."

"Nothing is yummy by the time it's in the tummy! There are no tastebuds in the stomach!"

"Of course not, xir."

"So don't fight with me! Now look, Johnson, we need to get that consumer excitement back! Time to ship the, er -- What's on the way? Let's check the container list from our friends in China. Ah! Halloween costumes and decorations!"

"Yes, xir! I'll get right on it."

"See that you do, Johnson."

"And xir? It's Johndaughter now."

"Oh, er, sorry about that, Johns-- daughter. Please don't report me to HR."

👻👺👿💀

Of course, I have in the past failed to get enough Halloween candy and made an emergency trip to the store, and wound up giving the kids Christmas candy, because the Halloween stuff had already been dumped. 

Life moves fast enough! Stop shoving things along! 

* Or Her/She Possibly Trans Candy.

Urbi et orbi.

Suppose my church decided to enforce a twenty-percent tithe on all members. Ten percent is the usual request, based on the old temple requirements -- the word tithe means ten. But poor people would be exempt, and in fact would be given money from the church treasury. Indeed, it soon turned out that so much money was given to them that the church went into serious debt. 

Then the church decided that people could live in the building rent-free, even those who were not members, nor believers, nor even respectful. Food was provided. Some people who came in were in desperate need. Others, however, were not. It was obvious that most were addicts or insane or both. Despite the clear rules, they wouldn't go outside to smoke; they drank alcohol, did drugs, had sex; they ate and left garbage in the sanctuary. They stole the sacramental wine; they even peed in the baptismal font although there was a bathroom available. They got into fights. They ripped up carpet, broke chairs, shredded Bibles and missalettes, stole anything that was not bolted down. People were brought in to watch over them at the church's expense, but they continued these antics. Rules were never enforced; in fact, the watchers brought in were specially instructed not to interfere in any way. 

Meanwhile, the parish elementary school no longer bothered to teach the children math or science or even religion. The claim was made that learning leads to inequality, so there must be no learning. It became nothing more than a filthy, feral daycare center for children up to ten years old. But tuition doubled, then tripled.

Then the church demanded thirty, then forty percent of our income to cover all the new expenses. Still, there was never enough money for basic upkeep. The place looked terrible; parishioners feared it would burn down one night. When they went on Sunday it was a revolting experience. Maybe worst of all, the priest never even talked about God's Word anymore. All he said was what a great place the church was and what a privilege it was for us to be members. If we objected to the people ruining the building and interrupting the church's traditional duties, we were wicked and cruel. Meanwhile, there were rumors that the priest and his pals were raiding what they could from the treasury and having a wonderful time with it. 

My friends among the nonbelievers and non-adherents said I was insane to keep going to this church. And they were 100% right. And yet, when I looked around, I saw that every other parish had become exactly the same: mismanaged, broke, useless, filthy, and dangerous. 

Does this fictional example differ from the way American cities are treating their citizens?

The two things really have a lot in common. 

Let's assume cities and churches both have a duty to help the poor. Both have or ought to have a sense of purpose. But like the church in my illustration, the cities have completely given up on the idea of their proper duty toward the citizens -- safety and streets and sanitation. The citizens are just suckers, paying more and ever more to live in places that are dirtier and more dangerous by the day. 

I have written before that our beloved former pastor wanted to use the old chapel as a warming station in the winter, allowing the minuscule homeless population of the town to stay there in the winter. What happened was similar to the disaster described, as many of us expected, right up to the peeing in the baptismal font. Our pastor, probably somewhat chastened by the experience, had to close the doors to them. Groups that used the chapel for legitimate purposes were asked to check the sanctuary to make sure no bums slipped in while we were there, because for a couple of years after the failed experiment they kept thinking of it as their home -- and bathroom. Our pastor had learned a lesson. But at no time had he ever lost sight of the primary mission of the church -- to bring God's Word to the people. 

Cities aren't like that. Many adherents to the church of Leftism aren't like that, either. They get their stuff stolen, cars taken at gunpoint. Their streets are covered in garbage and feces. The schools are rattraps and kids come out dumber than they went in. Poor neighborhoods are shot up; old properties become a different type of shooting gallery. Expensive civic projects come and go, and the only thing that gets larger is the debt. And yet the Leftists continue to vote for the same kinds of imbeciles, grifters, and creeps who are making their lives miserable. Worse, if they move to some other town out of terror, they start voting for the same kinds of imbeciles, grifters, and creeps that ruined the place from which they came. They seem to cling to their faith more strongly than Catholics do to theirs, and much more than your average Methodist or Presbyterian. A Catholic who gets mugged may forgive his mugger, knowing that if the crook believed as he did, the poor soul would reform. The Leftist who gets mugged knows that the mugger believes the same things about life that he does, so there's nothing to do but accept it, or lash out at inappropriate targets. If it weren't for those rich people, no one would mug anyone! 

When a church fails in its duties, it is held up as an example. When a government does, it is considered par for the course. I do not understand why so very many people can cling so hard to something that fails them over and over again. 

Statements made while watching Antiques Roadshow.

"How can that be an antique? I'm older than it is!"

"This will be a good one. The appraiser specializes in rich people stuff."

"They're not commercials. They're sponsors who donate to PBS out of the goodness of their hearts."

"HOW much? The dog could paint better than that!"

"Why isn't Nick doing this appraisal? Nick is the man for majolica." 

"Look at her face. She thought it would be worth a lot more."

"Oooh, this is gonna be a biggie!" 

"Toys are never worth much."

"Apparently this Picasso print was from his Greenbacks Period."

"He washed off the patina. FOOL."

"Don't we have something like that in the basement?"

"Hey, it's Lark! This will be valuable."
"Unless it's a fake."
"He never gets fakes."

Lark E. Mason, not getting a fake

"The Civil War stuff is fun."
"It wasn't the first time around."

"All painters should be dead for three hundred years."

"This is a game show for old people with tote bags."

"Veneer!" [obligatory Frasier reference]

"Books are never worth much."

"Sorry, I can't focus on the poster. The appraiser's suit is blinding me."

"If it doesn't have the magic T word [Tiffany], it's crap."

"Hey, it's Bruce! This will be worthless."
"Unless it's real."
"He never gets real stuff."

"Guitars are always worth a LOT."

It's autumn!

Once again, Walmart has said, "Still more than a week to go in July. Back to school!"

I understand that some colleges start early, and even in these technological times those students still need basic school supplies. But those of us in the New York area, where school doesn't start before Labor Day, know that this is a sight that, in late July, leads to much wailing and gnashing of teeth among the kids. I could almost hear them gnashing away as I took the picture. 

That was last Friday. I am almost dead certain that the next time I go to a supermarket, probably this upcoming Friday, July 28, Halloween candy will dominate the seasonal aisle. Pool noodles, water guns, folding lounge chairs, all that stuff will shoved aside. 

It has been more than a month since the longest day of the year, and surely autumn is looking to make its move. This shot came from the morning walk with baby dog Izzy. Autumn, lurking. 

I think that the scarecrow is behind the hedge because it's going out with the garbage; that seems to be where the family keeps its trash cans. But maybe not. Maybe it's just there to watch over us, to snicker and say, "You fools, playing in the sun! I was once young and carefree like you. Then the autumn chill stole into my straw, and now my time is waning and almost done. Memento Mori!"

Or maybe their dog peed on it. Either/or. 

We've got a Godzilla for sale.

Thinkin' about Godzilla. 

I don't believe I've ever seen a full Godzilla movie. By the time I came along they had gotten pretty silly. The original 1954 Toho movie was pretty damn dark -- Godzilla's ruin of Tokyo would have revived some horrible memories for audiences who had lived through the real thing, with Allied firebombing less than ten years earlier. The Operation Meetinghouse bombing of March 9 through 10, 1945, "is the single most destructive bombing raid in human history," according to Dr. Wikipedia. And yet people packed the theaters in Tokyo to see Godzilla (or, as he was known then, Gojira) destroy the city all over again. 

I've written before how seeing the destruction of midtown Manhattan in The Avengers in 2012 was hardly entertaining to me, having been in midtown on September 11 while my wife was downtown. I wondered about all the non-player characters in all the buildings who were getting obliterated or crippled for life. Previous superhero movies had been all about preventing horrific damage to innocents; this one felt like it was reveling in it, and less than 11 years after the terrorist attacks. 

But no one else seemed to be bothered, so I guess I'm just a little delicate little lotus flower, too good for this world. I haven't bothered with any other superhero movies since the first Guardians of the Galaxy. Don't even mention the word Transformers to me.  

For high-body-count entertainment, though, Godzilla is king of the destroyers. When the children of the original Japanese audiences got older, Toho found that they loved Godzilla, and so movies got geared to younger viewers and it showed. Sure, cities and irreplaceable landmarks and presumably thousands of people got killed, but it was fun! There was even a promotion to design a robot for 1973's Godzilla vs, Megalon. The winning entry was Jet Jaguar! And you can't blame the kid who won for the name, because Jet Jaguar was the name the studio gave the robot. 

Come on, people now, smile on your brother
Everybody get together
Try to love one another right now

I've never even seen the entire Mystery Science Theater episode that covered that picture. 

Some of my friends were big fans of the Godzilla and Godzilla-adjacent movies, which typically ran on ABC's famous 4:30 Movie, films for post-school kids cut in half and run over two days. ABC seemed to program for boys -- it would always be kaiju movies or the Planet of the Apes or low-budget horror films or the 1966 Batman movie or the like. I don't think I had the patience for movies in those days. I could sit through hours of TV, don't get me wrong, but in 30-minute segments, please. 

These days ol' Lizard Eye is back and bigger than ever. (A friend of mine in college always wanted to make a Godzilla movie where the Big G would go up against a bunch of hillbillies who called him "ol' Lizard Eye.") I'm told that in the new films from Legendary Pictures, the good humans want to find a way to coexist with all the giant monsters. Seems like a pretty tall order to me. Every time one of the damn things sneezes, a billion dollars of infrastructure goes up in flames. This is why we can't have nice things! 

I will say this for Godzilla -- he inspired a pretty great song by Blue Öyster Cult. With a riff reminiscent of Godzilla's scream, a thumping drum footstep, and verse hammered out in iambic tetrameter, it's irresistible. 

I just don't find fun in death and destruction. But there will always be those who love the Big G, and good for them. Just don't get stepped on.   

Bananas!

One of the supermarkets nearby charges a little more for everything, but you pay for the convenience. It's an easy-in, easy-out kind of shop, ideal for someone just looking to get the fixings for dinner and not much else. Consequently its self-checkout is very popular. I've been listening to electronic voice of the self-checkout computer for years. 

The other day I swung in to get some items that were not available for whatever reason in the bigger store, and while there I got... BANANAS. Why do I cap? Because when you have to weigh produce, the self-checkout computer voice -- I call her Cloris -- has to walk you through the process. And I could hear her in my mind as I made my way to the self-checkout.

You press the button on the screen for produce and the fun begins. "Select the item from the list." Press the button for bananas. 

"Place your . . . BANANAS . . . on the scanner."

Bananas placed. Price calculated. 

"Remove your . . . BANANAS . . . to the checkout area."

I'm not sure of the wording, but that pause before and after loudly announcing the fruit or vegetable of choice sticks with me. Cloris makes those pauses pregnant, and you can almost hear the judgment in her voice. I swear, I'm not going to do anything strange with the BANANAS, Cloris! I just want them for my cornflakes. 

Perhaps she doesn't believe me. Bananas are cheap. They don't have a bar code for her to scan, unlike pints of blueberries and some other things you can get from the produce section. Maybe she thinks I'm weighing dragonfruit or some expensive crap like that on the scale and saying it's bananas. She knows my little scam. 

"Remove your . . . SO-CALLED BANANAS . . . to the checkout area."

I wouldn't do that to you, Cloris! Trust is the cornerstone of our relationship! 

Maybe I should just wait on line for the cashier. this whole thing could be driving me nuts. 

"Place your . . . NUTS . . . on the scanner."

Do not tempt fate, Cloris!