Pie R expensive.

Here's a handy chart to help with voting issues tomorrow. Bear in mind that this is 100% accurate, or at least as accurate as the graphs and charts shown to feed us panic and outrage by those who profit from them.

Take New York's ballot proposition #1 -- thank God, the only statewide ballot issue this year. It sounds very useful on the surface: "CLEAN WATER, CLEAN AIR, AND GREEN JOBS Environmental Bond Act of 2022". Well, yay! Even evil Republicans like clean water and clean air. And we know that, due to the various raids on the state treasury over the years, there never seems to be enough dough to fix the ancient water systems that feed clean water to populated areas. I have a friend who works in the sewers in New York City -- we'll call him Norton. Norton says they still occasionally dig up wooden pipes that were laid down in starting in the early 1800s. (You can see some of the sort here.) His crew dries them out and slices them, mounts the slices on plaque boards, and awards them to guys who are retiring. So even in death those old pipes serve a useful purpose, unlike most live politicians.

So sure, let's borrow some dough to get that clean water and -- clean air? What's that for, giant dehumidifiers with dust filters? There are only two ways government can clean the air: regulate factories out of existence, as has been done in New York State*, and replace coal power plants with nukes, and New York State is shutting down nuclear plants. So, what is this ballot proposal supposed to fund? And what's this "green jobs" stuff? And what's it all supposed to cost? 

"To address and combat the impact of climate change and damage to the environment..." it starts, and here we go.

The purpose of this proposal is to authorize the creation of state debt and the sale of state bonds in the amount of up to four billion two hundred million dollars ($4,200,000,000) for certain capital projects for the purpose of making environmental improvements that preserve, enhance, and restore New York's natural resources and reduce the impact of climate change.... 

I remember when $4.2 billion was a lot of money.

How do they plan to blow spend the money? 

restoration and flood risk reduction not less than one billion one hundred million dollars ($1,100,000,000); open space land conservation and recreation up to six hundred fifty million dollars ($650,000,000); climate change mitigation up to one billion five hundred million dollars ($1,500,000,000); and, water quality improvement and resilient infrastructure not less than six hundred fifty million dollars ($650,000,000).

How much for herding unicorns to get their magical farts to run turbines? Because there will be mandates to kill fossil fuel power generation, which is working so brilliantly in Europe. Why is "climate change mitigation" the #1 most expensive item? What the hell is that supposed to mean? 

I love how they slip "jobs" into the name of the bill, to get people to think "I might find work from this!" rather than "The government is taking my money to pay some other slob to show up!" Does no one recall how Obama's "shovel-ready jobs" boondoggle went down? There was something to shovel, all right, but it had nothing to do with infrastructure. 

Not one voter in a hundred will read the text of this ballot proposal beyond the title, so how do you think they will vote? I've seen signs around town promoting this ballot initiative, no doubt by the grifters who stand to make a fortune from it. I have not seen one sign saying "This will cost more than five billion bucks (including interest) for less than $100 million of value," which would be more accurate. No one will even know about it until election day, except for pests like me. So there goes a few more billion down the old wooden wastepipes.** We get broker and our energy supply gets more expensive and less reliable. The fat pigs at the trough get fatter. Sounds great.

I know this kind of crap goes on everywhere, but I have to get out of this state. New York in a more advanced state of stupidity, cynicism, greed, and decay. 

——

*Governor by accident Hochul has been obliged to try to bribe memory-chip company Micron with $5.5 billion of our money to try to get 9,000 jobs (maybe) upstate (eventually). Maybe if the state hadn’t done such a great job of screwing natural-born powerhouses like Kodak and General Electric, we wouldn’t be so desperate. (The companies themselves deserve a lot of blame, but manufacturing in New York is like running a triathlon with an anchor on your back.)

**I was not aware myself that of the last big environmental boondoggle, Pataki’s 1996 $1.75 billion proposition, about $182 million still has not been spent. So… they can’t figure out who needs those bribes before they authorize more? The environmental crisis is so acute that we can wait 26 years to do something? As Instapundit says, I’ll believe it’s a crisis when the people telling me it’s a crisis start acting like it’s a crisis.

Two faces.

It's said that Henry VIII, king of England and all that, fell in love with his fourth wife, Anne of Cleves, before he'd even met her. He had gazed upon her portrait by Hans Holbein the Younger and got all worked up. I recall hearing that Hank the Ocho was so thrilled when Anne's ship arrived that he rode his horse right up the gangway in excitement. 

She looks nice.

It fell apart quickly. Will Cuppy, in The Decline and Fall of Practically Everybody, puts it this way: 

"Anne of Cleves had been much admired in the Low Countries, but in England she just wouldn't do. The way she got herself up, they thought she was playing charades. Anne of Cleves couldn't play or sing like Anne Boleyn. She could only spin, and nobody asked her to spin. Henry had seen her portrait by Holbein. She was a picture bride. Cromwell, who had helped arrange the wedding, was beheaded nineteen days after the divorce."

Cuppy says in the footnote, "Henry should have beheaded Holbein instead." 

I don't want to be picking on Anne of Cleves, whose looks may not have been all that Holbein made her out to be, but whose brother was a leader of Protestants in Western Germany. Henry was eager to make an alliance with them. However, with her lack of English skills and yes, her looks not being what that fat bastard was hoping for, Henry said screw the alliance and it was soon off to wife #5, and Cromwell's head in a basket for good measure. 

But that's not why I bring up any of this. Paul Begala is credited with the notion that politics is show business for ugly people, and that's why I thought of poor Anne of Cleves. In show business, most people who aren't character actors are expected to be good-looking, but in politics, you can be ugly. In fact, some of them abuse the privilege. However, I've noticed that more politicians are trying to gussy themselves up for the campaign season than in years past. 

The literature that stuffs the mailbox and the online ads show much more appealing people than the ones we see out pressing the flesh. The problem is, because these are local guys and gals working retail politics, we know what they look like. A touched-up photo from 1999 isn't fooling anyone.

Of course, their opponents will gladly use more realistic visuals of these politicians, rendered in horror-movie black-and-white, with narration by murder-show enthusiasts. Sometimes you can't even tell it's the same person.

This goes for everyone in the stupid game of politics, so I'm not singling any party out. And because politics is stupid, maybe these gimmicks work, although it would have to be on the most easily swayed independent ninnies. I loathe our state's senators, and it has nothing to do with their looks; one is passable and the other looks like a gnarled catcher's mitt with glasses perched atop an enormous baked ham. They're both liars, socialism-for-thee-but-not-for-me creeps who would run over the bodies to get on camera even if the blood from the train wreck was still flowing. I wouldn't trust either of them to manage nap time at a preschool. Half the children would die and the rest found wandering across town five days later.

My point today, though, is that if you went by campaign literature, our political class would be a collection of fine-looking youth, happy warriors, and genial sages; to go by their opponents' literature, you would move away from them on the subway platform. We have to stop paying so much attention to looks, or the political class will keep treating us like morons. 

♔📖♔📖♔📖

COMPLETELY UNRELATED NOTE: We all know the mnemonic to recite the ends of Henry VIII's wives: 

Divorced, Beheaded, Died

Divorced, Beheaded, Survived

Well, one of my all-time favorite book titles came from that, a youth novel by Barbara Williams published in 1987. If anyone out there has read it, I'd like your review; I never got a copy. The plot:

During a summer tour of England, two troubled teenagers--Lowell, upset by the remarriage of his mother, and Jane, a diabetic struggling to cope with her illness--come to terms with themselves and each other.

The title: Beheaded, Survived. 

I've had days like that. 

Fresh young cannibal.

I was out just now walking Izzy in the dark morning when I encountered a turkey that was larger than both of us put together. 

And I was happy to see it, and yet also a little worried. 

For years I've been calling for more Thanksgiving decorations. It's a great national holiday, intended for celebration by every American regardless of religion, background, or politics. And celebrate it we do, but decorate it? Nah, we still have our Halloween stuff up, or we're getting our Christmas stuff up, or we're just too busy raking leaves. Well, not this family -- giant light-up inflatable turkey to the rescue!

On the other hand, a turkey holding silverware, wearing a chef's hat and a bib calling us to dine, is concerning. At worst this giant bird is a cannibal, hoping to join in the consumption of his fellows. Or he may be what the Great Lileks calls a quisling mascot, hoping to direct you to eat his fellows in the hope of being spared. I dress like a human, see? I'm one of you! 

I'm not sure that's going to help him if the balloon goes up and we spot a 300-pound source of white and dark meat.

It's a disturbing idea, and indeed one I snatched at in my novel Larry and the Mascots. When advertising mascots are brought to life, one of them -- a pork-promoting pig named Hamswell, in butcher's gear -- becomes deranged and murderous because of the horror of his dual nature. Naturally, the book is a comedy! 

But I'm going to push aside my grim imaginings and see this lawn decoration for what it is -- a silly means to promote a serious holiday. We should celebrate with the gravity of gratitude and the lightness of hope. And then, let's eat! But don't stick a fork in this guy; he might explode.

Career moves, career schmoves.

Years ago I worked for a big-name magazine, located in Midtown Manhattan. You'd know the name; it was on every supermarket checkout line in America. And no, it was not one of those cheapass publications that followed celebrity tan lines or the adventures of Bat Boy. This one had been around for 100 years and was rock-solid as well as famous.

Not this one either. I'm not that old.

It was a good job in a fun workplace with great people and a sense of camaraderie. 

I wanted out. 

The problem was, the head company had no interest in developing talent within. This I base not only on my own experience, but also on that of coworkers. You were what you were and you might get ahead if you were brilliant and devoted to the job around the clock. That's how my boss got her spot. But me, I would probably be in the exact same job for life. 

So, I drove to Secaucus and interviewed at a trade magazine that covered the adventures of floor products. I totally nailed it down, as they say in the floor business.

I didn't get the job.

I've thought about this from time to time over the years, and I keep coming back to a strange conclusion. You see, I was at the top of my copy game in those days, and my résumé was excellent. I was as close to being fit and still had most of my hair, and looked good in a suit. I think they were impressed by me at the interview, during which I met multiple staff members. But there was one sticking point.

They could not get past the idea that I would leave a prestigious consumer magazine to work for a small trade magazine. 

I tried to impress upon them that this was an opportunity with a company that had a rep for training and promoting from within. Further, as a guy, I was about as interested in the content of that consumer mag as I was in floor products anyway. And further yet, I would be trading a frustrating New York City commute for a much faster (if still frustrating) drive to work. That last point I didn't play up, but it was certainly part of the appeal.

Ultimately I think I didn't get the job because they didn't believe me. They may have thought I was about to lose my job at the consumer magazine, or maybe I was clubhouse poison and on my last leg there. Why else leave work at a famous magazine to go into the trades? (Never mind that the trade job paid at least as well....)

Just one of those weird lessons in life. I'm pretty honest, and like a fool I expect people to believe me. But sometimes they don't, because sometimes the truth makes no sense to them. 

By the way, don't look on the supermarket checkout and wonder which magazine I worked for. The Internet and bad management killed it dead a few years later. Not sure if the floor products magazine is still around under a different name, but I wouldn't be surprised in the least. 

Airline mysteries.

1975: Less than a year after its introduction, Ringling Brothers' ClownAir passenger service
was discontinued for reasons unknown to this day. 

 

Beat it, pumpkin.

I don't want to belabor this Halloween autopsy, but:

1) I was completely bollixed up with work yesterday and had little time to think of a new blog topic; 

2) It seems appropriate to pick over the ghastly carcass of Halloween; and

3) I was de-decorating as I went around the house, making room for Pilgrim-related décor. 

It's this last bit that did get me thinking, for whatever amount of thinking I was able to do.

We don't usually let Halloween stick around, do we? The hearts might hang around until March; shamrocks might stay out until April; and Christmas stuff might laze about for months. Halloween? As soon as its over we look around, embarrassed, like we've awakened from a drunken affair of convenience and are all ashamed but trying to be polite, then we put it behind us as fast as possible and move on.

Of course, Halloween has the bad luck to be on the last day on the month, and month's end usually brings a desire for a change. The shamrock may not look silly on March 24, but the ghost hanging around on November 6 looks lost. You really feel the need to get rid of that stuff on November 1 in case any time-displaced costumers show up looking for candy. Down come the ghosts! Down come the skeletons! Hurry! Hurry!

I think that would be the case even if Halloween were not up against the giant Thanks-CHRISTMAS behemoth that starts on November 1, Frankly, I'm glad Halloween does its bit just to keep Christmas at bay a little. You know I love Christmas, but if the retailers were 100% cranked for it after Labor Day, I'd be exhausted by December 1. As it is, Christmas is such a huge deal that it has a 12-day hangover attached.

Maybe the theme of Halloween also makes us want to give it the hook before the applause has faded. Who but the most morbid of us wants to wallow in spooky graveyard stuff all the time? It's a pretty small population compared to those who like cheer and joy. It's funny that in Halloween films, the festivities go through Halloween night; except in places like Rutland, Vermont, which has a parade for the day, it's all over by ten p.m. -- earlier if you have a town curfew as we do. Most of the time it's a school night, a work night, for some even a church night; most of us can't and won't go deep into the wee hours with pumpkin-scented foofaraw. 

So for a guy who didn't have much to say today, I said a lot. This may be my last mention of Halloween for the year, for which most will be grateful. Happy Thanksgiving! 

Post-Halloween post.

Yesterday was exhausting, but more for work reasons than Halloween reasons. That said, I do have a short list of post-mortem thoughts on everyone's favorite holiday of mortem. 

Née $100,000 Bar

1) I was good. Well, pretty good. The only official piece of holiday candy was from the 100 Grand fun-size bar. It's still a great candy bar, the chewy caramel nicely offset by the crispy rice. I knew it was originally marketed as the $100,000 Bar, but I didn't know how far the name went back or where it came from. MeTV, where nostalgia is important, tells us that the bar was introduced in 1966. I always figured the name was part of some campaign where Nestlé spent 100 Large to develop the perfect candy bar, but I was wrong. MeTV says,  "After the success of quiz shows in the 1950s, Nestlé came up with the idea to create a candy bar based on those programs. In particular, the company was inspired by The Big Surprise, in which the grand prize was $100,000."

2) We got left with a bunch of candy. Last year in the Post-Chinese Death Virus mania we had so many trick-or-treaters that I had to run out to get more candy, just to find that the store was already stocked with only Christmas candy. I'm sure the kids didn't mind getting candy in Christmas colored wrappers, as long as they didn't think I'd been holding it since 2020. 

This year I overbought. I guess we had between 25 and 30 kiddos, and we were prepared for more than twice that number. It is impossible to estimate properly, at least in this neighborhood.

3) Izzy was pretty good about the doorbell ringing. Last year he was not the only dog in the house, and as long as Tralfaz was not freaked out he was okay to be cool as well. I worried that this year he would be nuts with the kids coming along, but not so much. However, as with Tralfaz and Nipper before him, Izzy went berserk on the lawn, trying to sniff the trails of every kid who had been walking around. 

4) But the real problem here is that Izzy has been sick. He picked up an eye infection, probably at the groomer (that was the vet's figuring). It started in one eye a week ago; we went to the vet and got antibiotics, an anti-inflammatory, and eye drops. It got worse and spread to the other eye by Saturday, so I had to drive him to an animal hospital because although our vet has Saturday hours, they were booked solid. Which ruined all my plans for Saturday, by eating a couple of hours out of the middle of the day. 

But I'm glad I did, because that vet gave him eye ointment. She said eye drops just run out of the eye anyway. Izzy doesn't like the ointment, but he'll tolerate it. He's a good little patient. Very little trouble over pills. He seems to be getting better, but the eyes still look infected. SpoooOOOooky, even.

So those are some thoughts, and if you don't like them, I have others, How was your Halloween?