This and that from re Thai r ment, by 3Th. June 11, 2011


In Nebraska farmland prices have reached about $6,000 an acre. Based on the current price of fertilizer and seeds, it costs about $4 to grow a bushel of corn. That means at current prices, each bushel produces a profit of $3.50. Farmers these days get about 200 bushels per acre of corn. That means a $6,000 investment produces an annual income of about $650, which is an income yield of 10.5%. That’s more than double the earnings yield of the S&P 500. And it is three times the yield you would get with 10-year Treasury notes.Read more:

Ah, but one bad harvest and the bank owns your land and sells it to someone else who also believes in getting something for nothing. Spend your money on sex, drugs and rock and roll or its current version, it’s better for the economy and a lot more fun.


“When George W. Bush took office in Jan 2001 there were 111,634,000 private sector jobs. When he left office in Jan 2009 there were 110,981,000 private sector jobs.
When Bush took office in Jan 2001 there were 20,835,000 government sector jobs. When he left office in Jan 2009 there were 22,582,000 government sector jobs.
That means during Bush’s eight years in office, we lost 653,000 private sector jobs and gained 1,747,000 government sector jobs.
Moral of the story: Barack Obama is a Kenyan socialist fuckstick.
And George W. Bush saved capitalism. Plus, he got bin Laden too.”

Why can the liberals not leave poor old George alone to moulder on his ranch in Texas? He’s so yesterday. Do you believe he has only been gone for two years? I always pictured George as a man wearing a suit that was two sizes too big for him.


I have spent the past two days in El Dorado Hills, resting up, worrying about whether or not the operation really was a success, and playing with Hayden.

Somewhere I once read that a doctor opined, that the human body is like a machine. Parts wear out. The mechanic fixes the parts as they wear out and the machine goes on puttering along. As the machine ages, parts begin wearing out more quickly, until they begin wearing out quicker that the mechanic can fix or replace them and then the machine is sent to the junk yard to die.

This morning, I realized that I have either lost or left back in San Francisco, my supply of happy pills. This means that in another day or two I should tumble into withdrawal. Withdrawal is worse than death.

On Saturday, Hayden leaves for Italy for six weeks. I was thinking of joining him there before returning to Thailand. But my recovery schedule does not permit that.

Meanwhile he has spent the past two days in the back yard collecting a certain type of bug that lives under the rocks in the yard that he calls, roly-polys. He has collected 14 so far. I find it disgusting. He keeps asking me to help him search. I keep excusing myself by telling him that because of my operation I need to visit the toilet a lot. Ah, kids.

CORRECTION: In my previous email I mentioned that John Stuart Mill and John Locke were contemporaries. Stephanie Dall correctly pointed out that Locke had been dead for a century before Mill was born. She is right.




“What the hell is that all about?” The Isabella character screamed as she ran into the shipping container that served as the changing and make-up room for the novel’s characters. “I thought he was going to get rid of characters, instead he adds those two fat fucks.”

“Actually,” the Vince character said while staring into the mirror applying make-up that would make him look as though he had slept only one hour last night. “Fat Al is really quite slender. He has to stuff a bunch of old rags into his pants to get that pear shape. Ike, on the other hand is…well rotund.”

“Whatever,” pouted Isabella as she flopped into a chair in front of another mirror.

Anyway, he got rid of two characters, Stephanie and Charlie. Although he is only missing, I would guess it’s the last we will see of that character.”

We never saw him in the first place, only Stephanie’s story about him. What’s that about anyway? She was the only other women in the novel except for me and he knocks her off. Come to think of it, I hardly ever appear and when I do, it’s only to show a little skin and act mysterious. I’m, what do you call it, yeah, a stereotype, that’s it. I bet the author’s gay.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Most mystery novels written by men have only one or two women in it anyway. The beautiful woman there for the male hero to sleep with and as often as not who dies in the end and the woman who ends up implicated in the murder. On the other hand, who knows? One never does with these arty-types. Besides, we still have Nina.”

“Ms knitting needles? She does nothing but bring you coffee and look pissed off.” After a moment of reflection she adds, “I bet she is a murderer, if not in this story than somewhere else. I bet I’m killed off. Do you think I die?”

“You have to sleep with me first.”

“Fat chance, if I have anything to say about it.”

“You don’t. Anyway, don’t worry too much about your role or lack of one. I believe in the next chapter, I talk with you on the phone and we meet. That will be some page time for you?”

“Oh, goody another meeting, isn’t it about time for some of you suits to do a little grabbing, I can use a some sex about now. Or, are all you suits afraid of a real woman?”

Vince glared at her. “You could always get yourself off.”

“Ah, spoken like a true eunuch, at least its sex with someone I love.”

(Author’s Note: Actually, Isabella’s got a point about the lack of women in the story. I intend to remedy that as the plot moves along. As for her dying, she needn’t worry, she deserves worse.)


a. Eponymous laws:

Dunbar’s number — A theoretical cognitive limit to the number of people with whom one can maintain stable social relationships. No precise value has been proposed for Dunbar’s number, but a commonly cited approximation is 150. First proposed by British anthropologist Robin Dunbar.

What is a stable relationship? I have never had one much less 150.

b. Trenz Pruca’s Aphorisms, Apothegms, Epigrams and Maxims ( http:/

“Conservatives are irony deficient.”

c. From God’s Mouth to your ears:

“And the booty, being the rest of the prey which the men of war had caught, was 675,000 sheep, And 72,000 beeves, And 61,000 asses, And 32,000 persons in all, of women that had not known man by lying with him . . . of which the Lord’s tribute was 32 persons. And Moses gave the tribute, which was the Lord’s heave offering, unto Eleazar the priest, as the Lord commanded Moses.” (Numbers 31:32-41)

See, one does not have to die defending the faith to get 72 virgins. If you’re a priest you get 32 for just standing around encouraging others to die. [What, no alter boys?]

d. You must be a Republican ( http:/

“You must be a Republican if you believe that God wrote Leviticus but Jesus did not preach the Sermon on the Mount.”

e. Testosterone Chronicles:

Arnold is shorter than I am by an inch or two. The lady in the photograph must be all of 3 ft. 6 inches tall.


“If you’re going to make every game a matter of life or death, you’re going to have a lot of problems. For one thing, you’ll be dead a lot.”
—Dean Smith

Categories: April 2011 through June 2011, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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