Quora Question: Why is there air?

The old Coz knew the answer to that one.  Here's a few answers I posted on Quora, mainly to see how long my insightful if somewhat pithy responses would be tolerated by the overly sensitive Quora censors that protect humanity from people like me.



What is an urban dance fitness class like?

You get one of two scenarios:
One, it’s a bunch of fat people sweating and struggling for air as they try to keep up with an instructor that’s fit for the Olympics.

Two, it’s a bunch of gorgeous women in skin tight leotards perspiring lightly while executing a professional level dance routine. You’ll see the occasional man there, but unless the guy looks like a model and is gayer than a three dollar bill, he’ll get frozen out.

Are there industrial risks in San Cristóbal, Venezuela?

Yeah, and the top three are starvation, disease, and hot lead from an AK-47.

How do theatre people in wheelchairs typically adapt dance choreography involving leg movements?

They don’t. What are you, nuts?

Note: This answer got 'collapsed' almost immediately.  I appealed on the grounds of reality, and that the question in and of itself was insensitive to differently abled people in general.  My appeal fell on deaf ears.

Which is your favourite Albanian folk dance?

Depending on partners, my all time favorite Albanian folk dance is the i gjallë me tre mënyra. Traditional music isn’t all that hard to find, but people who really know the dance, and really understand it are a little rare. I learned it when I was a teenager (girls next door taught me), and back then everyone just sort of piled onto the dance floor. The audience would applaud and shout encouragement to their favorite people.

Now, not so much.

What professional ballet is famous for being the worst performed?

It’s hard to say, but in all likelihood it’s Swan Lake, as choreographed by an artistic dim-bulb and his assistant choreographer, who turned out to be a retired high school football coach from somewhere in Alabama (a State in the U.S.). Judging by the choreography, the choreographer likely worked in a canning factory and was laid off due to incompetence.

The university in question, and it will recognize itself here, was busy stuffing some new scandal under the carpet, and during the process was forced to replace a few people with virtual unknowns. Hence these two chowder heads are now in charge.

One of them decided it would be cute to employ a troop of Junior High girls to play a flock of swans, which might have worked with the help of Divine intervention, except that a group of elementary age girls were being taught (that’s the wrong word, but bear with me) by a bellicose, self-important behemoth who demanded a position in the production for her little darlings from some pencil pusher who was in a position to give in to her. Unfortunately, no one pushed her under a bus, and so the kids were included.

What could possibly go wrong?

Rehearsals were guaranteed to include three melt-downs, and halfway through the second week any dancer with even a tiny smidgen of talent or common sense walked off the stage. The remaining gaps got filled with dancers desperate enough to take the jobs, or who were convinced that this wasn’t really happening, that it was Candid Camera or something similar. Does anyone remember Candid Camera and Allen Funt?

Well, the show must go on. Two of the kids ended up in the Orchestra pit; one fell (or was pushed) and another was supposed to exit stage left with the rest of the birds, but suddenly lost her mind and jumped down into the pit so as to hide. Or something. Then it turned out the lead couldn’t lift the prima - she was a hefty little thing - so she kicked him in the shins and his understudy had to take over. Then things got worse.

At the end of the show - I don’t know if you’re familiar with Swan Lake, so bear with me - at the end of the show, pretty much everyone dies. To signify this, the assistant choreographer thought it would be appropriate to discharge a blunderbuss loaded with black powder. No shot, just powder. Safety and all, you see. Before anyone could stop him, he torched it off and scared the toe shoes off the swans, who screamed and ran like hell. The audience was a bit startled and jumped to their feet, and the stage was covered in a haze of gunsmoke.

And the curtain dropped.

You’ll note that I’ve omitted names here, and there’s a reason for that. Anyone who can’t guess at the reason should run for office. You’ll make a dandy politician.

So the answer to your question is: Swan Lake.

Note: I felt I was in rare form here.  We'll see how long this masterpiece lasts.

Of Mice and Mayhem

Wednesday morning (the infamous 9-11) I got ambitious enough to make eggs and bacon for breakfast.  Just for a change of pace, I scrambled the eggs in my small, cast iron skillet.  I inherited this from my great-uncle Clyde, who used it every morning during the depression.

Clyde was a bachelor, preferring the hell of his own making over the excruciating torment delightfully brought on by his one big mistake in life.  The man was content to live alone, and by all accounts was happiest that way.

After breakfast I went out to run some errand or other, and when I returned what should I find?  A nice, big field mouse helping itself to the leftover eggs in my skillet, which I'd thoughtfully left on the stove just for him.  The cute little pestilence would hop into the skillet and get some eggs, then hop out and hide under the skillet.

Right next to the burner.

Joke Time

God was missing for six days. Eventually, Michael, the archangel, found him, resting on the seventh.

"Where have you been?" Michael asked.

Banned Words

All kinds of words have been banned over the years.  The first word that comes to my mind is antidisestablishmentarianism, but that's probably just me.  I'm a bit odd.

On my previous contribution to the overall knowledge of mankind, a casual reader delurked a left a single, succinct suggestion.

When you use the phrase "gun control" you cede most of the ground to The Enemy, who created that phrase for just that purpose. Use "disarming the law-abiding" because THAT is what is under "discussion" (a term you should also reject).

My thanks to Lens Larque for an excellent suggestion.

Beginning today, the phrase gun control will no longer appear in any of my posts.  Instead, I'll use disarming the law-abiding public.  I'll have to find something else to replace discussion with.  Something on the order of "unwarranted attack" comes to mind.

Comments may, of course, use whatever language the author of the comment sees fit.

Shootings and Solutions

Well, unless you've been incommunicado for the past week, you know all about the two new mass shootings that have the anti-freedom crowd frothing at the mouth.

Kicking around the Internet, I found one blogger who got it right, and who is worth reading.

Keep going, with the standard disclaimer about special little snowflakes and thin skinned moonbats getting their cute little hides branded.

My Interesting Life - 7/26/2019

Yesterday, while minding my own business, I missed getting into a traffic accident by ten feet or so, then I saw some poor little kid get punched out and decked by an adult while at my local Kroger's.  Here's my rant, complete with racist, misogynist, misandrist, and politically incorrect and callous comments.

All you special little snowflakes and SJWs better plug your ears and blind yourself with number two pencils before continuing.

Joke Time!

I thought this was a good one, but naturally it's a bit off color.  Continue at your own risk.

Black Plague, Los Angeles Homeless, and a Crapcopter with a Flamethrower

That last should get Glen Filthie, owner and operator of Filthie's Thunderbox , started right up.  You see, Glen has been having an argument with the boys in the Treehouse Club about drones and low yield nuclear devices, Vulcan Cannons, and the end of the world as ISIS would like to know it.

Then there's Los Angeles and the brand knew revelation by a cartoonist and a noteworthy doctor that, surprise-surprise, L.A. is going to be facing a very serious health crises in the near future.

Keep reading for my politically incorrect rant, which is guaranteed to anger and activate any and all special little snowflakes in a sixty mile radius.  The drone argument is at the end.

SJWs Reach a Brand New Low

I broke my toes on an empty case of bourbon, fell into my office chair and multi-fingered the keyboard for about three eternities.  When I was able to see again, I found myself staring at Quillette, and the article Publicly Shaming a Musician for Calling a Composition by Its Name by Kurt Gottschalk.  It looked interesting.

The SJWs are still at it, this time in Nova Scotia.  The event was a gathering of... well, I better insert the standard warning before I continue, because I'm going to get nasty.  If you're an SJW, continue at your own risk.

Plight of the Children and Others

I saw this on... okay, somewhere.  I think it's incredibly stupid, and for any of you who want to know why I find it incredibly stupid, keep reading.  The rest of you can keep surfing.

Did You Know?

Use Your Words! Use Your Words!

I hear this all the time, mainly from Millennials trying to settle two or more squabbling kids.  Instead of saying, "You kids settle yourselves down, and I mean now!", they say "Use your words! Use your words!"

What words are they talking about?

Continue for a brief lesson on training children that hasn't won any awards from Psychology Today, Good Housekeeping, or Parenting magazine.