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I can remember, back in the 1970s, a very novel machine suddenly appeared in motorway services. It had a screen, and two knobs by which two short white lines could be induced to travel vertically up and down the left and right edges of the screen. It was the first computer game to be presented to the public, and could well have been called Ping, had they not called it Pong.

Not very long after that the game became available to buy, in the form of a little box that could be connected to a TV set. Oh, the thrill of being able to move -to your own your will- an image on your TV screen. Up till then television sets could only deliver passive amusement, but now we could be in control. What a feeling of power that was. Of course, you needed to have children in whose name you bought the game, but they rarely got anywhere near it.

Things moved on quite quickly during the subsequent years, and computer games became very sophisticated. I couldn’t keep away from Tomb Raider for a few months, although the driving force behind that was not so much a desire to get to the next level, but rather a compulsion to get lara Croft to do something -I finally had to concede- she was not designed to do. I wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone though; computer games were for kids.

How things have changed. I work with a man in his sixties who freely boasts about how many rampaging aliens he killed on the pervious night. There is a thriving market in adult computer games, and grownups are no longer ashamed or self conscious about playing them. Of course, they are not playing games -as a child might be described as doing- they are “gaming”. A designation the industry came up with to turn childish play into a legitimate adult activity. A rose by any other name.

I can remember the days when people who had telephones were a very exclusive set. Most ordinary folk wouldn’t have known how to go about having a telephone. Later, when the general population felt entitled to have a telephone if they wanted one badly enough, it was having two telephones that marked you out as being among the elite. No one owned their telephone; they could only rent it from the GPO (General Post Office).

In order to acquire a telephone within the foreseeable future, you had to have a damn good reason for wanting it. You had to be a doctor, or belong to some other profession that absolutely necessitated having one; everyone else went onto a waiting list. When your turn eventually came, however, you were granted the choice of having either an ivory or green one.

It was a serious offence to tamper with your telephone; punishable with a heavy fine, or even imprisonment. Once your phone had been installed, that is where it stayed. You couldn’t just plug it in wherever you wanted to, like you can today. Working class families who were brazen enough to apply for a telephone were often quite nervous about using it for anything other than the most justifiable of reasons, like a medical emergency, or their home being on fire.

It was Margaret Thatcher who changed everything; she took telephones away from the Post Office and let the free market have them. Now we can have a phone in every room and one in each pocket if we like, and we don’t have to ask for anyone’s permission. For those of us who grew up with how it used to be it felt like a very radical event when they freed up the telephone; a bit like the first time they let us see a pair of tits on the BBC.

The multitude of ladies scratching on my door at night have complained, " Where is it, anyway?" Normally they are talking about something else, but who's digressing now? The novel syndrome beckons .

Sir William Osler, initial supporter of the episiotomy (every husband's surgical friend), was a pioneer in his writings on Western medicine. But he is more remembered for his quips. One of my favorites is, paraphrased, "If the physician will simply listen quietly, unhurriedly, with interest, to the patient, the latter will almost always offer up the diagnosis, without further work." And so it is here, with the striking behavioral syndrome from which almost all liberals suffer.

Sure, most also have the much more etiologically specific Trump Derangement-Hilary Deficit Syndrome. But our research staff here at the Vierk Institute now recognize a more global diathesis. And the roots typically include various forms of (emotional) deprivation in youth, followed by self-loathing (often White) guilt, feelings of being somehow guiltily sneaky for any life successes, all leading to marked deficits, unconscious and otherwise, in self esteem.

And as usual, out of the mouths of babes. It was a (hottie---babes indeed) intern who noticed the behavioral components, and brought it to the attention (distraction) of your intrepid Director. Quothe, she,"The inappropriate over-use of sexism, racism and those terms ending in-phobia, often follow on the tail of hypocritical behaviors, all completely validly described by these pejorative terms themselves". "Could it be that these ueber liberals are getting some sort of secondary gain as such"?

Eurika! Right here on CS, my friends. We see liberal accusations of "sexism" on the part of others. But whence statements such as, "Monica Lewinsky was an adult", in a shameless attempt to justify her abuse by one of the criminal Clintons? Or, "You need to get back into the kitchen, rather than take part in thoughtful discussions" , in addressing one of our brilliant and artistic Pennsyltucky dreamboats. (both paraphrased). And all are delivered in treetop anger, often while signaling personal virtue. Even with legal threats, such as the use of the term "Libelous". So many more examples.

But it took the astute clinical/epidemiological eye of the director, who, for quite different reasons, has been known to toss out an off color term now and again,---to tie it all together. But first a walk for Bravo, and a little volunteer work at the local Soup Kitchen. Later alligators.

Overcompensation --for perceived lives of failure, and reaction formation--externalizing deep ego dystonic feelings-to others. Bingo. Like magic, smug feelings of superiority. And the stronger these feelings, the more hated become those onto whom these attributes are projected. TD-HDS will now be a subtype. But how about a name? Stay tuned. Wait, wait, ---don't tell me.

Got it. " Liberal Hate Speech Self Stroking Syndrome. " LH4S. Brilliant!. Naw, actually sort of crappy. Back to those hottie interns for Ideas, and,oh, so much more..

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Respected Loving Sweet
Caring Blogger Family.
Stay Safe All of You.
GOD bury this Pandemic in Mud
Save All The Humans of The World
Ameen
:
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My Thoughts at time Is !
At which age One Can Change His Habits.
Or at any age One Change it.

-do as I say, not as I do. Advice to the citizens, stay home, your only home. As she travels back and forth between her TWO residences. Yet she refuses to resign. Wish someone would start making this stuff up. Google her act.

Went to a lake Tuesday and watched some children fish.I did see one guy out in his fishing boat trolling his boat.I hadn't been to that lake for sometime.It's also the same lake where a ranger used to work and where they had a cougar as well as some deer which had passed away so they turned it into a dog park.

Before that I had stopped at another old fishing hole of mine where several changes had been done to it and a few people were there fishing or had been walking around at least.So I decided to leave there and went back to the very first lake I had first posted about. Anyhow while sitting at a picnic table watching the children fish this little bird sat at a table directly across from me began chirping at me as if saying that he or she wanted some food.I wish I would've brought my camera I would've taken it's picture.

I've always liked the outdoors and I had to go somewhere else where there weren't a lot of people around like the very first lake.There were some people there but just not as crowed as would had been there if it were during normal times,what ever would've been considered normal times.I ended my day by driving through what is considered the college town which yesterday resembled a ghost town which would've been crowded with students and cars but wasn't the case at all.

Yesterday from The Verge;

An address to the people of the UK, but i think the sentiment is universal

....but as with valid doctorates, and other relevant graduate degrees, as with those of our Ivy Leaguer POTUS Trump, who's counting?..... But I digress.... MORE DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS.... It would seem that thousands of Americans are loosing their jobs and income, thanks to the pander demic. But au contraire, dear lemmings without pensions. Compare the current fate of employees in the dreaded private sector, with those in do little, paper pushing, can't be fired, taxpayer funded, make work positions. The former face a bureaucratic Alpentraum of phone menus, crashed systems and week delays, all at the hands of the latter. But as a government employee, with a defined pension (what's that?), it's one more excuse not to turn up at the jobsite, except that, as with the former, the taxpayer pumped paychecks magically still keep on coming. No need to face the nightmare of trying to apply for government job loss benefits, as for folks with REAL WORK.. Who are these folks? Teachers (not in private or denominational schools), politicians, office staff, municipal "workers", and so on. Almost exclusively of what political persuasion, ---well, just guess? Their labor lobby organizations, with names like the Teachers' Unions, or Federal/Municipal/State Employees' Unions, are among the biggest financial contributors to Democrat political campaigns. Can't make this stuff up, my dear poor latter day proletarians.

Battle grounds are levelled. Fear and uncertainty equally distributed throughout the globe.

There are lots of people who are struggling with the current situation. People who earned a daily living. My heart is heavy because of a suicide I heard today. Not anyone I know. Nevertheless, I felt like crying.

Should we give up?

Should we lose hope?

Times may be bad. Work will be hard to come by.

But we shall overcome.

It's not a time to count our blessings. It's a time to be a blessing in some way.

We'll walk hand in hand some day.
Deep in my heart, I do believe.
We shall overcome.

Stay safe. !