II don't want to seem like I'm setting myself up as the supreme arbiter of logical thought. I've made plenty of decisions that later turned out to be wrong. But at least they had some basis in reality. Lately I've seen several posts on other blogs where people say things like "I don't want to make any changes to my home to improve my security because then I would worry more." I even got one comment that I didn't publish because the writer chastised both me and the people who come here. She said " I don't store any food, or have any weapons. I just live each day. Why can't you all just relax?"
I think about some of the things I have seen in my life and I wonder what environment would produce attitudes like these? I'm not disparaging these individuals, I simply cannot understand them.
I have added this link because it's germane to the discussion. Do you remember the Scheiss Sturm that this woman caused? She back pedaled, but what she really thinks is in the first article. That she later tried to cover her tracks is irrelevant. 27 March 1548.
Addendum 27 March 1458: I am getting some comments that disagree vehemently with the feelings most of us have expressed here on this subject. Unfortunately, they are almost certainly from the Troll that popped up last week, under the names Sandra and Monika. As I'm not publishing the comments, I'm being blasted for censorship. And that's true. But I was warned that these people will post plausible comments and then suddenly launch a troll attack, which I don't want to deal with. So, I'm just letting everybody know that I am, in fact, declining to publish some comments. Not because they disagree with me, but because I don't want to facilitate Trolldom.
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "it would be grand!"
"If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year.
Do you suppose," the Walrus said,
"That they could get it clear?"
"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.
"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
The Walrus did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."
The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head--
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.
But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat--
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.
Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more--
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.
"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."
"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"
"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.
"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
"Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed--
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed."
"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
"After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!"
"The night is fine," the Walrus said.
"Do you admire the view?
"It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf--
I've had to ask you twice!"
"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"The butter's spread too thick!"
"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.
"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none--
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.