Neanderpundit

Or someone who does the work of an engineerI see patterns. I look at the world through a pair of eyes trained to see specific things. Fingers that can sense surface roughness, tool marks, acid etch. The ability to taste fluids and sense dangerous acidity in motor oil, or damage in hydraulic fluid. (yes, I do taste oil. WHat? I don’t DRINK it)

When I look at a rifle, or a tractor, or a computer program, or an injection molded part, I see the creation through the eyes of it’s creator. I see how the operator ran the machine. I see how the designer solved casting problems. I see how the finishing department deburred/sanded/polished/painted the part. I see the wisdom or the folly that brought the product to me. I see the humility- and the hubris- in architecture, and the will to improve on nature in landscaping.

I look at the world, and I see the people who make it what it is. Sometimes the creations of man are elegant, sometimes merely functional, sometimes baroque and gross. But I see. I see because I look.

I look at the world, and I see the hand of a greater creator at work. This is the core of my theosophy. The knowledge that the hand of the creator is visible in everything I see. There is no magical mystical revelation, no bright light with Jebus calling to me from it’s midst. I have a solid faith in the Creator because I witness His Creation, and I feel as if I’ve been given a pair of secret goggles to view the world, in a way few others can see it. Is it possible that the subtlety of all creation came about utterly accidentally?

Not to me, it isn’t.

More: As Sir Fredrick James was so quick to remind me, I’m not a ‘real” engineer- That is, in fact true- I do not have a degree. Which just means I can do things right the first time, and not have to rely on the ignorance the educational system wanted to jam into me.

Funny how a guy would be so upset that I called myself an engineer- when he styles himself as royalty. And not even good royalty, just some lame asshole. I don’t know whether it’s the attention he craves, or the relation to all those inbred masses, or what, but I guess if doing the work of an engineer makes you almost an engineer, then being a fucktard almost makes you royalty.

Oh, and I know you never visit here, Jimmy baby, because this blog is so horrible, but tasting oil for acidity or signs of glycol antifreeze has been done by master mechanics for years. of course, you’ve never had your hands dirty for an instant, so I wouldn’t expect you to have any idea about that. What were your great engineering accomplisments again? oh, that’s right, none.

about thirteen thousand pair of Socks.

Now, DIck has seen and become unnaturally attracted to at least one pair.

Some days, it’s all I can do to find a pair that are the same thickness, let alone that match.

See, the family has a sort of a traditionof buying me extremely ugly socks for christmas. Some years have provided a bumper crop, some not so much. Years ago my sister had to resort to what I will euphemistically call “ethnic” stores to find ever more ugly socks.

Today I sorted and threw out hundreds of mismatched or holey socks. I got a plastic garbage bag full.

Damn, it will be good to have my sock drawer back. I also tossed thirteen pair of underdrawers that were just too damned big to keep up anymore. That was the best part.

Other than that, I got nothing.

Over here Mrs D is talking about retrofitting- and it makes me want to talk about pressure.

As an engineer, I look at the world and I see pressure. Pressure is an interesting thing. Pressure turns carbon into diamonds, bursts dams, moves mountains. And as strong as geological pressure is, the pressure created by humans is infinitely stronger.

Pressure, if not adequately contained, will cause flow from an area of high pressure to an area of low pressure. For instance: When prohibition was forced upon the Americas, it took seconds before people started thinking of ways to get alcohol into one another’s hands. A thriving industry grew out of the need for the average American to have a brew, or a snort, or a nice glass of gin. That industry, because it was by nature illegal, was operated by criminals, and bankrolled a criminal enterprise that continues today. One of many examples of people who had the best of intentions creating a clusterfuck. Before prohibition, lots of people drinking. After prohibition, lots of people drinking AND an incredibly powerful mob. The same is true of drugs today- and while I’m not a fan of legalization of recreational drugs, I frankly wish the “war on drugs” money was being spent on other things.

The bottomline, as far as this post is concerned, is that it doesn’t matter what you sell, if someone wants it, they will find a way to get it. And if you have bricks of gold you’re selling for nine cents a pound and nobody wants them, your business will turn belly up. If the government makes guns illegal, then people who want them will still find ways to buy/make/steal them, and nothing will ever stop that; in fact, it will, like drugs and prohibition, create an entire criminal subclass which did not exist before. And they won’t be the kind of fine sportsmen and shooters who currently hold the vast majority of firearms in the country. Where unwanted things- like Air America- have to be propped up in order to survive, the Rush Limbaughs of the world aren’t enough.

The internet- and the airwaves before it (yes, Ham was the ORIGINAL internet) will always provide a media, and it cannot be silenced, no matter how hard anyone tries. While it can be legislated out of existence, like free speech is being, little by little, it cannot be done away with. We’re out here, we’re embedded now, and we aren’t about to stop. Now that I’ve brought you from Mrs D, go read what the Mr has to say here