Category: Responsibility

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Heatwave Reading

The Summer’s hot days have finally arrived in San Diego. Official high yesterday, according to my phone: 34 Celsius (94 Fahrenheit)—although the thermometer in the apartment complex’s courtyard read 38 C (100 F). Well, all the cement makes quite the heat island, so that is unsurprising.

This morning, the mercury touched 33 C (91 F) before thin, high clouds provided some relief. Forecasted high for tomorrow is about the same and scorching like yesterday for Sunday. We don’t have air conditioning, by the way. Fans provide plenty of relief, as long as breeze outside blows indoors. Unfortunately, winds are light, and air is muggy.

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When No One Helps You

This morning, as my wife and I waited to cross Mississippi at University Avenue in North Park, we heard arguing and shouting. We both turned back to see some kind of disagreement between a man and woman near the distant bus stop on the opposite side of the street.

The dude looked to be stealing, or trying to steal, the lady’s bicycle. Shirtless, he was clearly homeless; she was well-dressed. Taller than her, he was racially white but so sunburned to be almost black; dirty, my guess, too. We weren’t sure what to do, being older folks, but we decided to walk down the block nevertheless. She needed help.

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Much Better

On the block of the same street where fruit falls to waste, another residence is ready to gather the bounty, as you can see from the Featured Image. Yes, the homeowners have placed blankets to catch the apples—something done without worry because rain is rare this time of year.

Exceptions occur, and today is one of them. Thunderstorm is just ending, so those blankies are probably soggy now. But, obviously, they were dry yesterday, when captured by Samsung Galaxy S24 Ultra. Vitals: f/1.7, ISO 12, 1/1250 sec, 70mm (film equivalent); 9:46 a.m. PDT.

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I Boycott the Paris Olympics

I am more than a little surprised to be writing this post. But here we unexpectedly are. I stand with those people criticizing the 2024 Olympic Games Opening Ceremony’s mock Last Supper as mocking Christianity—and the almighty God, for that matter. In what appeared to be a live reenactment of the famous painting by Leonardo DaVinci, the actors were either drag queens or some simply dressed as such.

The Summer games officially began in Paris on July 26. Today, spokesperson Anne Descamp apologized to anyone offended by the, ah, banquet scene. If BBC reporting is accurate, explanation is as offensive, if not more. From the story: “The ceremony’s artistic director, Thomas Jolly, said there was no intention to ‘mock or denigrate anyone’ and explained the scene in question was designed to reference pagan gods”.

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The Farmhouse

I continue to mourn loss of the Wilcox farm—the majority of which my father unexpectedly deeded to the pastors of his church during the last weeks of life. He died on April 16, 2024.

The deeding deed was kept secret from immediate family until after he had passed. I attempted to contact the main pastor—twice. He ignored me. Inaction has shaped, or reshaped, my perspective about the incident, which won’t be publicly shared here.

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Do you Feel…?

You may want to rethink that yes, if the answer. We have come to perilous times, where conspiracies make more sense than commonsense. Take, for example, Joseph Biden’s debate debacle with Donald Trump. An astute observer should have seen Biden’s cognitive decline years ago. I am no expert, and it was obvious to me—and plenty of other folks. Now, post-debate, Biden’s brain, and the continuation of his campaign, are the dominant topics seemingly everywhere. But something smells fishy here—and it ain’t good.

The Commission on Presidential Debates, a nonpartisan organization, is responsible for organizing the face-off between candidates, which typically starts some time following each respective political party’s convention. CPD had scheduled four debates, with the first slated for Sept. 16, 2024, at Texas State University in San Marcos. In a statement, the organization explains that it received a “letter dated May 15, 2024 from Jen O’Malley Dillon, Campaign Chair for the Biden-Harris Campaign, in which the Biden-Harris Campaign informed the Commission that President Biden will not agree to debate under the sponsorship of the Commission during the 2024 general election campaign”. The B-H campaign decided to organize its own debates, and Trump agreed to participate.

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Requiem for the Farm

Two months ago, or thereabouts, on March 27, 2024, my father signed over title to a large portion of the family farm to the two pastors of his local church. The transfer of ownership was quite unexpected and was not disclosed—to my sister—until after he died on April 16. We all understood that he intended to will the property to the couple, but his estate would pass through the typical legal process first.

Since my grandfather’s will hadn’t been probated, the older document might supersede the other—something I presumed a lawyer and judge would sort out. That process would be opportunity to also open a discussion with the pastors about final disposition of the approximately 100 acres. The unexpected transaction nullified everything—unless the older will is legally enforceable. I wouldn’t know.

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Games We (Poorly) Play

Yesterday, one my neighbors expressed surprise about filling out paperwork at a doctor’s office, where she was presented with choice of a dozen genders. I would think that a medical practice would stick to the science: Humans are biologically either male or female. How people feel about themselves is something else.

All through the SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 lockdowns, we kept hearing about the science—physicians and researchers following it, and we should, too. In 2024, should a doctor’s office do no less? Meaning: Put basic biology before social culture?

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Clickbait, Misinformation, or Both?

I don’t write enough about the dreadful disdain that my profession deserves. But, occasionally, some story is so ridiculously egregious that I must admonish the story, its writer, and the editors. This afternoon, when turning on Microsoft Surface Laptop Studio, Windows 11 Start menu teased with news that might interest me. I clicked mainly curious why our AI overloads would pick something about the Republican presumptive presidential candidate.

From Newsweek, headline: “Donald Trump Stung in Primary As Huge Number of Republicans Vote Against Him“. Lede: “Donald Trump suffered a blow in a number of primary votes on Tuesday, after thousands of Republicans refused to vote for him”. Well, yeah, that would be news if true. But, before proceeding, let’s dispatch any confusion caused by semantics.

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Whom Do You…

The answer related to the Featured Image is easy: No one. I am a fact-oriented journalist, who trusts nobody—nor should you in this era of mass misinformation. With perhaps the exception of Matt Taibbi, there isn’t a soul among my profession whose news reporting I would accept as factual—that is without some independent verification of my own.

We live at a time when commentary and editorialization—narratives, if you prefer—supplant real reporting. Everyone is an armchair analyst with an opinion, and not enough emphasis is placed on gathering facts and assembling them into a meaningful story that unfolds some current event or reveals something legitimately in the public interest.

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Cancelling Christ Feels Familiar

If you’ve seen this sign before on my website somewhere, do tell me. I can’t find it. Because I so meant to share the message nearly four years ago (June 26, 2020). The United States was in turmoil, with SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 restrictions making most everyone stay in and widespread looting, protests, and riots pulling people out onto the streets.

Do you remember the chaos, and rampant cancellation? You know: anyone who dared to defy the social media mob’s cries for equity, justice, and racial identity—all while fostering division and segregation that contradicted the presumed purpose of progressives. Black lives mattered, and including any other group(s) made you a racist.

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By the Grace of God

Along Park Blvd, barely outside my San Diego neighborhood of University Heights, is a church I hadn’t stopped to regard—until yesterday. I simply don’t walk that way often enough to have noticed the stately structure.

Near as I can gather from the official website, Grace Lutheran is a family-oriented, traditional Christian church located in an area where other places of worship cater more to the licentious, cultural mob than to God.