AdamSmith

Occurs the term PANdemic suggests cooking well for one’s loved ones and oneself is a great counterthrust.

Testes?

And of course... https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=jf9iTZ433zs

Jahwol! https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=QEJ9HrZq7Ro

My work is market research about engineering design (CAD/CAM/CAE} software. Every trade publication I sell little articles to has cut me off completely, because the advertising revenue they live on has dried up entirely. Every manufacturer of pumps, seals, pneumatic power transfer systems, etc etc, as well as every software developer serving them, has put a ‘lockdown’ on spending. Conserving cash on hand is the only thing on the mind of any businessperson in their right mind for now. Business execs all over the world that I can observe think this pandemic, and its repercussions, is going to go on and on much longer and deeper than we want to think. My long experience with them is they are usually right in their cold-eyed realistic judgments about such things. God help us all.

Apollo 11 launch, 1969, 4 min 33 sec before launch. ’We are on the automatic sequence, as the master ground computer supervises hundreds of events occurring over the last seconds before launch...’ Where has our collective national brain gone?

Maybe his PA (penile assistant)?

Worth a 4th or 5th repost...

Yeah. Hard to see how the Chief or even such as Alito would let the Court’s sovereignty among the branches go down the drain on such an in the broad view trivial question (for the Court) as this.

In my travels throughout other Asian countries & cultures, they all seem to universally dislike Koreans. For being prideful, haughty over other Asian cultures & traditions; cruel and abusive within even their own family units; on and on and on. The universality of these sentiments among every other Asian culture I have had contact with suggests something more than a coincidence.

Think Drumpf is about to dump Fauci. Trump's rebuke of Fauci encapsulates rejection of science in virus fight https://www.cnn.com/2020/05/14/politics/donald-trump-anthony-fauci-science-coronavirus/index.html We will see who wins this long-term battle. Sometimes brains beat brawn.

Agree. Even Rehnquist decided a little centricity rather than his own former extreme rightism was what a Chief properly owed the fair dispensation of sound jurisprudence, and laying down of reasonable precedence. And keeping whole the publicly perceived independent authority of the Court.

...One Barton St. Armand, professor at Brown, who presented a couple of papers at this event, being probably the best HPL scholar out there. https://www.amazon.com/H-P-Lovecraft-New-England-Decadent/dp/1492176133

H. P. Lovecraft scholarship[edit] As editor of the journal Crypt of Cthulhu[42] (published by Necronomicon Press) and of a series of Cthulhu Mythos anthologies,[43][44][45] Price has been a major figure in H. P. Lovecraft scholarship and fandom for many years.[46] In essays that introduce the anthologies and the individual stories, Price traces the origins of Lovecraft's entities, motifs, and literary style. The Cthulhu Cycle, for example, saw the origins of Cthulhu the octopoid entity in Alfred, Lord Tennyson's "The Kraken" (1830) and particular passages from Lord Dunsany, while The Dunwich Cycle points to the influence of Arthur Machen on Lovecraft's "The Dunwich Horror." Price's religious background often informs his Mythos criticism, seeing gnostic themes in Lovecraft's fictional god Azathoth[47] and interpreting "The Shadow Over Innsmouth" as a kind of initiation ritual.[48] Most of the early Cthulhu books by Chaosium were overseen by Price; his first book was The Hastur Cycle (1993), an anthology of short stories which traced the development of a single Lovecraftian element, and this was followed by Mysteries of the Worm (1993), a collection of Robert Bloch's Mythos fiction.[49] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_M._Price

'Cthulhu eats the little children, Eats them all day long...' The inimitable Bob Price https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_M._Price (defrocked former Baptist minister, now an avowed atheist) giving his canonical Sunday-morning closing event of the weekend-long NecronomiCon, the Cthulhu Prayer Breakfast:

Oneself attended this scholarly Lovecraft centennial conference at Brown U. in Providence, RI, August 1990... https://books.google.com/books?id=YdO2XRYNUuQC&pg=PA5&lpg=PA5&dq=h+p+lovecraft+centennial+conference+1990&source=bl&ots=OtUJ6fY2h9&sig=ACfU3U0nGdvWu5kFDLiJYGlmKi2fyZDXpw&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiK3_iBlK3pAhXnct8KHeZEC8QQ6AEwBHoECAgQAQ#v=onepage&q=h p lovecraft centennial conference 1990&f=false ...and several of the succeeding annual 'NecronomiCon' fan conferences held there. https://books.google.com/books?id=jwM5AgAAQBAJ&pg=PT565&lpg=PT565&dq=h+p+lovecraft+centennial+conference+1990&source=bl&ots=yozUX4rnKz&sig=ACfU3U1dksaV5L_F2_8N-0Qg5R5dUoEl0w&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiK3_iBlK3pAhXnct8KHeZEC8QQ6AEwBXoECAkQAQ#v=onepage&q=h p lovecraft centennial conference 1990&f=false

And BO would put in a whole second working day from 7:30 pm to like 1am, going up to his study on the 2nd floor of the residential wing — with “a cup of exactly 7 lightly salted almonds,” Michelle laughed in a TV interview — and read briefing papers, research articles about current Important Stuff, and relevant books. When was the last time we ever had evidence that DJT ever read a word in print?

Ward now started violently. “Well, Sir, what have ye found, and what d’ye want with me?” The doctor let a little time elapse before replying, as if choosing his words for an effective answer. “I have found,” he finally intoned, “something in a cupboard behind an ancient overmantel where a picture once was, and I have burned it and buried the ashes where the grave of Charles Dexter Ward ought to be.” The madman choked and sprang from the chair in which he had been sitting: “Damn ye, who did ye tell—and who’ll believe it was he after these full two months, with me alive? What d’ye mean to do?” Willett, though a small man, actually took on a kind of judicial majesty as he calmed the patient with a gesture. “I have told no one. This is no common case—it is a madness out of time and a horror from beyond the spheres which no police or lawyers or courts or alienists could ever fathom or grapple with. Thank God some chance has left inside me the spark of imagination, that I might not go astray in thinking out this thing. You cannot deceive me, Joseph Curwen, for I know that your accursed magic is true! “I know how you wove the spell that brooded outside the years and fastened on your double and descendant; I know how you drew him into the past and got him to raise you up from your detestable grave; I know how he kept you hidden in his laboratory while you studied modern things and roved abroad as a vampire by night, and how you later shewed yourself in beard and glasses that no one might wonder at your godless likeness to him; I know what you resolved to do when he balked at your monstrous rifling of the world’s tombs, and at what you planned afterward, and I know how you did it. “You left off your beard and glasses and fooled the guards around the house. They thought it was he who went in, and they thought it was he who came out when you had strangled and hidden him. But you hadn’t reckoned on the different contents of two minds. You were a fool, Curwen, to fancy that a mere visual identity would be enough. Why didn’t you think of the speech and the voice and the handwriting? It hasn’t worked, you see, after all. You know better than I who or what wrote that message in minuscules, but I will warn you it was not written in vain. There are abominations and blasphemies which must be stamped out, and I believe that the writer of those words will attend to Orne and Hutchinson. One of those creatures wrote you once, ‘do not call up any that you can not put down’. You were undone once before, perhaps in that very way, and it may be that your own evil magic will undo you all again. Curwen, a man can’t tamper with Nature beyond certain limits, and every horror you have woven will rise up to wipe you out.” But here the doctor was cut short by a convulsive cry from the creature before him. Hopelessly at bay, weaponless, and knowing that any show of physical violence would bring a score of attendants to the doctor’s rescue, Joseph Curwen had recourse to his one ancient ally, and began a series of cabbalistic motions with his forefingers as his deep, hollow voice, now unconcealed by feigned hoarseness, bellowed out the opening words of a terrible formula. “PER ADONAI ELOIM, ADONAI JEHOVA, ADONAI SABAOTH, METRATON. . . .” But Willett was too quick for him. Even as the dogs in the yard outside began to howl, and even as a chill wind sprang suddenly up from the bay, the doctor commenced the solemn and measured intonation of that which he had meant all along to recite. An eye for an eye—magic for magic—let the outcome shew how well the lesson of the abyss had been learned! So in a clear voice Marinus Bicknell Willett began the second of that pair of formulae whose first had raised the writer of those minuscules—the cryptic invocation whose heading was the Dragon’s Tail, sign of the descending node— “OGTHROD AI’F GEB’L—EE’H YOG-SOTHOTH ‘NGAH’NG AI’Y ZHRO!” At the very first word from Willett’s mouth the previously commenced formula of the patient stopped short. Unable to speak, the monster made wild motions with his arms until they too were arrested. When the awful name of Yog-Sothoth was uttered, the hideous change began. It was not merely a dissolution, but rather a transformation orrecapitulation; and Willett shut his eyes lest he faint before the rest of the incantation could be pronounced. But he did not faint, and that man of unholy centuries and forbidden secrets never troubled the world again. The madness out of time had subsided, and the case of Charles Dexter Ward was closed. Opening his eyes before staggering out of that room of horror, Dr. Willett saw that what he had kept in memory had not been kept amiss. There had, as he had predicted, been no need for acids. For like his accursed picture a year before, Joseph Curwen now lay scattered on the floor as a thin coating of fine bluish-grey dust. Return to The Case of Charles Dexter Ward Page Last Revised 20 August 2009 URL: http://www.hplovecraft.com/writings/texts/fiction/cdw.aspx Contact Us Site Map Search Donate Copyright © 1998–2020 by Donovan K. Loucks. All Rights Reserved.

SORRY! Meant to say the ‘Great Old Ones.’ ...Those South Pacific Islander magicians with the only known talismans able to neutralize the Deep Ones. Which Deep Ones would in coming centuries plague Innsmouth. Senility is indeed settling in...

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bart_D._Ehrman

What Jesus Really Said About Heaven and Hell Bart D. Ehrman https://www.yahoo.com/news/jesus-really-said-heaven-hell-173203705.html

The Deep Old Ones, no doubt. Shoggoth! Arthur C. Clarke (much influenced by HPL) once wrote a hilarious parody short story “At the Mountains of Murkiness.” It contained the immemorable line penned in the day-diary of Cthulhu: ”Have Slog-Wallop see about the drains.” https://www.google.com/amp/s/deepcuts.blog/2019/12/21/at-the-mountains-of-murkiness-or-from-lovecraft-to-leacock-1940-by-arthur-c-clarke/amp/