Desert Man Waits for Rain

Reading. Reading. Errands and more errands. Setting meetings. Writing notes. Prep for workshops. Notes to coaching clients. Family. Dog. Newspapers. Planning.

And early to bed.

Now I'm playing catch-up.

And scanning the papers. So where's the monsoon they'd promised for Phoenix? Tucson gets rain. Flagstaff gets rain. And Greer - blessed Greer - gets lots of rain. 

My Saturday morning chore is focused: getting rid of the junk stacked on the patio before the morning gets too hot.

Some rain would be nice.

Good Times in Iceland

The trailer for "Trapped."

Revising Playboy

Althouse looks at the transformations of Playboy (and Cosmopolitan).

On a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being Excellent and 1 being Dismal, how would you rate the chances of the new Playboy succeeding?


[Photo by Nathan Anderon at Unsplash]

A Dash of Christopher Lee

The trailer for "Glorious 39."

Great Memoirs - A Series

By the author of the "Flashman" novels. This is the story of his service in the Burma campaign.

Apples and Oranges

The most common reasoning blunder I encounter involves equating "apples with oranges." 

In past years, I've heard corporations equated with government, the FBI equated with the KGB, individuals equated with countries, privileges equated with rights, mild restrictions equated with oppression, opposition equated with treason, kindness equated with exploitation, equal opportunity equated with racism, and the general population equated with a pool of viable applicants.

It is a popular game but not a smart one. 


[Photo by Jack Carter at Unsplash]

Big Niall

Never fear. Wally Bock is on the case.

Quick Looks

The trailers for:

• "1917"
• "Rats"
• "The Nightingale"
• "The Lighthouse"

Great Memoirs - A Series

An observer with a keen eye and a sharp wit, Muggeridge saw history in the making. An excerpt:

In those days foreign journalists were vouchsafed some contact with lower echelon Soviet bosses, besides an occasional sight of the top ones; even of the boss of the bosses, Stalin himself. He would walk into view on a platform, or appear in a box at the Opera House, or at the topmost end of a reception, always to the accompaniment of protracted cheers that were precisely timed by the GPU men in attendance. Their duration steadily increased, and at the time of Stalin's death had reached a minimum of seven and a half minutes. It was a preview of the studio audience. Sometimes, again, one would catch a glimpse of the back of his head, with its thick neck, as his heavily escorted car shot past, going to or from the Kremlin.

I Understand This More Every Year

All of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone.

- Blaise Pascal


[Photo by Jez Timms at Unsplash]