Discussion:
It's the time of the season for cryptoscopophilia
Add Reply
D B Davis
2018-11-22 02:28:02 UTC
Reply
Permalink
Dirt paths muddied by molten snow mean city street dog walks this time
of year. On an oblique approach to a house across the street there was a
clearly visible man sitting in a chair just inside his large, front,
drapeless, picture windows, which reached from the floor to the ceiling.
Thoughts of "Where is it? Where's the boob tube with its colored
sparklies to zombify him?" coursed through my mind. "Wait! What's this?
No boob tube. He must be reading."
There is hope for America after all.



Thank you,
--
Don
Juho Julkunen
2018-11-22 02:47:19 UTC
Reply
Permalink
Post by D B Davis
Dirt paths muddied by molten snow mean city street dog walks this time
of year. On an oblique approach to a house across the street there was a
clearly visible man sitting in a chair just inside his large, front,
drapeless, picture windows, which reached from the floor to the ceiling.
Thoughts of "Where is it? Where's the boob tube with its colored
sparklies to zombify him?" coursed through my mind. "Wait! What's this?
No boob tube. He must be reading."
There is hope for America after all.
You can watch shows on your tablet these days.
--
Juho Julkunen
Dimensional Traveler
2018-11-22 03:51:35 UTC
Reply
Permalink
Post by Juho Julkunen
Post by D B Davis
Dirt paths muddied by molten snow mean city street dog walks this time
of year. On an oblique approach to a house across the street there was a
clearly visible man sitting in a chair just inside his large, front,
drapeless, picture windows, which reached from the floor to the ceiling.
Thoughts of "Where is it? Where's the boob tube with its colored
sparklies to zombify him?" coursed through my mind. "Wait! What's this?
No boob tube. He must be reading."
There is hope for America after all.
You can watch shows on your tablet these days.
Or he could be watching his neighbor's TV.
--
Inquiring minds want to know while minds with a self-preservation
instinct are running screaming.
Kevrob
2018-11-22 08:32:28 UTC
Reply
Permalink
Post by Dimensional Traveler
Post by Juho Julkunen
Post by D B Davis
Dirt paths muddied by molten snow mean city street dog walks this time
of year. On an oblique approach to a house across the street there was a
clearly visible man sitting in a chair just inside his large, front,
drapeless, picture windows, which reached from the floor to the ceiling.
Thoughts of "Where is it? Where's the boob tube with its colored
sparklies to zombify him?" coursed through my mind. "Wait! What's this?
No boob tube. He must be reading."
There is hope for America after all.
You can watch shows on your tablet these days.
Or he could be watching his neighbor's TV.
He could be watching on his phone, or listening to music.
He might have an audio device you didn't see playing anything.

Maybe, he could sleep with her eyes open, like someone with
nocturnal lagophthalmos. (Yeah, that's a thing.)

---
Kevin R
a.a #2310
J. Clarke
2018-11-22 09:02:09 UTC
Reply
Permalink
Post by Kevrob
Post by Dimensional Traveler
Post by Juho Julkunen
Post by D B Davis
Dirt paths muddied by molten snow mean city street dog walks this time
of year. On an oblique approach to a house across the street there was a
clearly visible man sitting in a chair just inside his large, front,
drapeless, picture windows, which reached from the floor to the ceiling.
Thoughts of "Where is it? Where's the boob tube with its colored
sparklies to zombify him?" coursed through my mind. "Wait! What's this?
No boob tube. He must be reading."
There is hope for America after all.
You can watch shows on your tablet these days.
Or he could be watching his neighbor's TV.
He could be watching on his phone, or listening to music.
He might have an audio device you didn't see playing anything.
Maybe, he could sleep with her eyes open, like someone with
nocturnal lagophthalmos. (Yeah, that's a thing.)
Or maybe he was in a war and can sleep marching quicktime.
D B Davis
2018-11-22 17:01:07 UTC
Reply
Permalink
Post by J. Clarke
Post by Kevrob
Post by Dimensional Traveler
Post by Juho Julkunen
Post by D B Davis
Dirt paths muddied by molten snow mean city street dog walks this time
of year. On an oblique approach to a house across the street there was a
clearly visible man sitting in a chair just inside his large, front,
drapeless, picture windows, which reached from the floor to the ceiling.
Thoughts of "Where is it? Where's the boob tube with its colored
sparklies to zombify him?" coursed through my mind. "Wait! What's this?
No boob tube. He must be reading."
There is hope for America after all.
You can watch shows on your tablet these days.
Or he could be watching his neighbor's TV.
He could be watching on his phone, or listening to music.
He might have an audio device you didn't see playing anything.
Maybe, he could sleep with her eyes open, like someone with
nocturnal lagophthalmos. (Yeah, that's a thing.)
Or maybe he was in a war and can sleep marching quicktime.
There's also a chance that he's ... stiff. That he's "on the other side
of the grass" in his afterlife.
My neighborhood tends toward literacy. That's why it disheartens me
to see otherwise intelligent people surrender themselves to boob tube
hypnotic sessions during their off hours.
This particular dog walk passes by a house where a murder took place
a few years ago:

On the morning of Nov. 30, 2012, Chris Krumm walked into a
Casper College classroom with two knives and a compound bow.
As students watched, he killed his father, computer science
instructor Jim Krumm, and then himself.

Police soon found that Chris had also killed his father's
longtime girlfriend, fellow college instructor Heidi
Arnold, outside the home she and Jim shared. While Chris
obviously endured some type of mental illness, it is still
unknown precisely what triggered him to drive across the
country to carry out the murders.

https://trib.com/news/local/casper/photos-five-years-ago-the-murder-of-two-casper-college/collection_bdf11f10-3b16-11e2-b0b0-0019bb2963f4.html

That part of the walk almost always makes me mentally travel back in
time to the day that the murder happened and vicariously experience the
terror from her perspective. My little "Shirley Jackson" moments only
occur during nocturnal dog walks past the house in the fall and winter.
It's seasonal time travel terror.



Thank you,
--
Don
J. Clarke
2018-11-22 18:54:26 UTC
Reply
Permalink
Post by D B Davis
Post by J. Clarke
Post by Kevrob
Post by Dimensional Traveler
Post by Juho Julkunen
Post by D B Davis
Dirt paths muddied by molten snow mean city street dog walks this time
of year. On an oblique approach to a house across the street there was a
clearly visible man sitting in a chair just inside his large, front,
drapeless, picture windows, which reached from the floor to the ceiling.
Thoughts of "Where is it? Where's the boob tube with its colored
sparklies to zombify him?" coursed through my mind. "Wait! What's this?
No boob tube. He must be reading."
There is hope for America after all.
You can watch shows on your tablet these days.
Or he could be watching his neighbor's TV.
He could be watching on his phone, or listening to music.
He might have an audio device you didn't see playing anything.
Maybe, he could sleep with her eyes open, like someone with
nocturnal lagophthalmos. (Yeah, that's a thing.)
Or maybe he was in a war and can sleep marching quicktime.
There's also a chance that he's ... stiff. That he's "on the other side
of the grass" in his afterlife.
My neighborhood tends toward literacy. That's why it disheartens me
to see otherwise intelligent people surrender themselves to boob tube
hypnotic sessions during their off hours.
Sometimes you just want to turn off your brain and give it a rest.
Post by D B Davis
This particular dog walk passes by a house where a murder took place
On the morning of Nov. 30, 2012, Chris Krumm walked into a
Casper College classroom with two knives and a compound bow.
As students watched, he killed his father, computer science
instructor Jim Krumm, and then himself.
Police soon found that Chris had also killed his father's
longtime girlfriend, fellow college instructor Heidi
Arnold, outside the home she and Jim shared. While Chris
obviously endured some type of mental illness, it is still
unknown precisely what triggered him to drive across the
country to carry out the murders.
A reminder that it is the person who kills, not the weapon.
Post by D B Davis
https://trib.com/news/local/casper/photos-five-years-ago-the-murder-of-two-casper-college/collection_bdf11f10-3b16-11e2-b0b0-0019bb2963f4.html
That part of the walk almost always makes me mentally travel back in
time to the day that the murder happened and vicariously experience the
terror from her perspective. My little "Shirley Jackson" moments only
occur during nocturnal dog walks past the house in the fall and winter.
It's seasonal time travel terror.
?
Thank you,
Quadibloc
2018-11-23 16:44:34 UTC
Reply
Permalink
Post by J. Clarke
A reminder that it is the person who kills, not the weapon.
Of course it is, but guns make it easier, and their widespread availability
makes mass killings more common. This is well known from statistics appearing in
the peer-reviewed scientific literature.

However, correlation does not imply causation. A lot of the gun violence in the
United States is actually the result of difficulties black people have in
finding honest gainful employment leading to a widespread and violent drug trade
and similar social ills. Thus, comparing the United States to, say, Sweden or
the Republic of Ireland, which has neither that nor the Second Amendment doesn't
automatically lead to the conclusion that the Second Amendment is the cause.

In the United States, though, the NRA is known for being a powerful and
influential lobby group which has opposed regulations which would not threaten
the intent of the Second Amendment, but which would help keep guns out of the
hands of the mentally ill.

Have fewer weapons in the hands of the wrong people, and more guns in the hands
of responsible citizens, and crime would be reduced. But unless people are
nearly in a panic over a high crime rate, in large cities, as opposed to rural
areas, the average law-abiding citizen, even if it is perfectly legal for him to
have one, is unlikely to bother with a gun.

So allowing a concealed carry permit to every citizen with a clean record as a
matter of right, as some states have done with success, may not work all that
well everywhere, particularly where there's no strong tradition of gun
ownership.

John Savard

Robert Carnegie
2018-11-22 20:53:18 UTC
Reply
Permalink
Post by D B Davis
Post by J. Clarke
Post by Kevrob
Post by Dimensional Traveler
Post by Juho Julkunen
Post by D B Davis
Dirt paths muddied by molten snow mean city street dog walks this time
of year. On an oblique approach to a house across the street there was a
clearly visible man sitting in a chair just inside his large, front,
drapeless, picture windows, which reached from the floor to the ceiling.
Thoughts of "Where is it? Where's the boob tube with its colored
sparklies to zombify him?" coursed through my mind. "Wait! What's this?
No boob tube. He must be reading."
There is hope for America after all.
You can watch shows on your tablet these days.
Or he could be watching his neighbor's TV.
He could be watching on his phone, or listening to music.
He might have an audio device you didn't see playing anything.
Maybe, he could sleep with her eyes open, like someone with
nocturnal lagophthalmos. (Yeah, that's a thing.)
Or maybe he was in a war and can sleep marching quicktime.
There's also a chance that he's ... stiff. That he's "on the other side
of the grass" in his afterlife.
My neighborhood tends toward literacy. That's why it disheartens me
to see otherwise intelligent people surrender themselves to boob tube
hypnotic sessions during their off hours.
This particular dog walk passes by a house where a murder took place
On the morning of Nov. 30, 2012, Chris Krumm walked into a
Casper College classroom with two knives and a compound bow.
As students watched, he killed his father, computer science
instructor Jim Krumm, and then himself.
Police soon found that Chris had also killed his father's
longtime girlfriend, fellow college instructor Heidi
Arnold, outside the home she and Jim shared. While Chris
obviously endured some type of mental illness, it is still
unknown precisely what triggered him to drive across the
country to carry out the murders.
Story not accessible in the EU in more ways than one,
but I can tell it was at least quite approximately Thanksgiving.
Post by D B Davis
https://trib.com/news/local/casper/photos-five-years-ago-the-murder-of-two-casper-college/collection_bdf11f10-3b16-11e2-b0b0-0019bb2963f4.html
That part of the walk almost always makes me mentally travel back in
time to the day that the murder happened and vicariously experience the
terror from her perspective. My little "Shirley Jackson" moments only
occur during nocturnal dog walks past the house in the fall and winter.
It's seasonal time travel terror.

Thank you,
--
Don
D B Davis
2018-11-23 00:13:14 UTC
Reply
Permalink
<snip>
Post by Robert Carnegie
Post by D B Davis
This particular dog walk passes by a house where a murder took place
On the morning of Nov. 30, 2012, Chris Krumm walked into a
Casper College classroom with two knives and a compound bow.
As students watched, he killed his father, computer science
instructor Jim Krumm, and then himself.
Police soon found that Chris had also killed his father's
longtime girlfriend, fellow college instructor Heidi
Arnold, outside the home she and Jim shared. While Chris
obviously endured some type of mental illness, it is still
unknown precisely what triggered him to drive across the
country to carry out the murders.
Story not accessible in the EU in more ways than one,
but I can tell it was at least quite approximately Thanksgiving.
Post by D B Davis
https://trib.com/news/local/casper/photos-five-years-ago-the-murder-of-two-casper-college/collection_bdf11f10-3b16-11e2-b0b0-0019bb2963f4.html
It's my home town newspaper website. And it's also just barely
accessible to me. The images never actually appear in my browser. The
website starts to load, then eventually goes completely blank.
But, there's a work-around available to me. A website reload is
launched and stopped after a few of seconds (before the reload
completes). After that happens, the words remain in my browser,
available for copy and paste.



Thank you,
--
Don
Dorothy J Heydt
2018-11-23 00:31:43 UTC
Reply
Permalink
Post by D B Davis
Post by D B Davis
Post by J. Clarke
On Wednesday, November 21, 2018 at 10:51:31 PM UTC-5, Dimensional
Post by Dimensional Traveler
Post by Juho Julkunen
Post by D B Davis
Dirt paths muddied by molten snow mean city street dog walks this time
of year. On an oblique approach to a house across the street
there was a
Post by D B Davis
Post by J. Clarke
Post by Dimensional Traveler
Post by Juho Julkunen
Post by D B Davis
clearly visible man sitting in a chair just inside his large, front,
drapeless, picture windows, which reached from the floor to the
ceiling.
Post by D B Davis
Post by J. Clarke
Post by Dimensional Traveler
Post by Juho Julkunen
Post by D B Davis
Thoughts of "Where is it? Where's the boob tube with its colored
sparklies to zombify him?" coursed through my mind. "Wait! What's this?
No boob tube. He must be reading."
There is hope for America after all.
You can watch shows on your tablet these days.
Or he could be watching his neighbor's TV.
He could be watching on his phone, or listening to music.
He might have an audio device you didn't see playing anything.
Maybe, he could sleep with her eyes open, like someone with
nocturnal lagophthalmos. (Yeah, that's a thing.)
Or maybe he was in a war and can sleep marching quicktime.
There's also a chance that he's ... stiff. That he's "on the other side
of the grass" in his afterlife.
My neighborhood tends toward literacy. That's why it disheartens me
to see otherwise intelligent people surrender themselves to boob tube
hypnotic sessions during their off hours.
This particular dog walk passes by a house where a murder took place
On the morning of Nov. 30, 2012, Chris Krumm walked into a
Casper College classroom with two knives and a compound bow.
As students watched, he killed his father, computer science
instructor Jim Krumm, and then himself.
Police soon found that Chris had also killed his father's
longtime girlfriend, fellow college instructor Heidi
Arnold, outside the home she and Jim shared. While Chris
obviously endured some type of mental illness, it is still
unknown precisely what triggered him to drive across the
country to carry out the murders.
Story not accessible in the EU in more ways than one,
but I can tell it was at least quite approximately Thanksgiving.
Googled a 2012 calendar; it was the Friday of the week after
Thanksgiving (which that year was November 22).
--
Dorothy J. Heydt
Vallejo, California
djheydt at gmail dot com
www.kithrup.com/~djheydt/
Dorothy J Heydt
2018-11-22 03:55:33 UTC
Reply
Permalink
Post by Juho Julkunen
Post by D B Davis
Dirt paths muddied by molten snow mean city street dog walks this time
of year. On an oblique approach to a house across the street there was a
clearly visible man sitting in a chair just inside his large, front,
drapeless, picture windows, which reached from the floor to the ceiling.
Thoughts of "Where is it? Where's the boob tube with its colored
sparklies to zombify him?" coursed through my mind. "Wait! What's this?
No boob tube. He must be reading."
There is hope for America after all.
You can watch shows on your tablet these days.
But if the guy had been looking at his tablet, Don would've seen
it.
--
Dorothy J. Heydt
Vallejo, California
djheydt at gmail dot com
www.kithrup.com/~djheydt/
J. Clarke
2018-11-22 04:52:11 UTC
Reply
Permalink
Post by Dorothy J Heydt
Post by Juho Julkunen
Post by D B Davis
Dirt paths muddied by molten snow mean city street dog walks this time
of year. On an oblique approach to a house across the street there was a
clearly visible man sitting in a chair just inside his large, front,
drapeless, picture windows, which reached from the floor to the ceiling.
Thoughts of "Where is it? Where's the boob tube with its colored
sparklies to zombify him?" coursed through my mind. "Wait! What's this?
No boob tube. He must be reading."
There is hope for America after all.
You can watch shows on your tablet these days.
But if the guy had been looking at his tablet, Don would've seen
it.
He didn't say he saw a book, and I don't know about this guy's tablet
but one of mine is about the size of a trade paperback and the other a
typical mass market hardcover (height and width, much thinner and
significantly lighter).
D B Davis
2018-11-22 05:08:18 UTC
Reply
Permalink
Post by Dorothy J Heydt
Post by Juho Julkunen
Post by D B Davis
Dirt paths muddied by molten snow mean city street dog walks this time
of year. On an oblique approach to a house across the street there was a
clearly visible man sitting in a chair just inside his large, front,
drapeless, picture windows, which reached from the floor to the ceiling.
Thoughts of "Where is it? Where's the boob tube with its colored
sparklies to zombify him?" coursed through my mind. "Wait! What's this?
No boob tube. He must be reading."
There is hope for America after all.
You can watch shows on your tablet these days.
But if the guy had been looking at his tablet, Don would've seen
it.
A quick glance thrown across the street in such a circumstance seems
fair given the drapeless picture window. But a stare to feast my eyes on
every available detail is too creepy. Unfortunately, my respect for
another's privacy leaves at least three distinct possibilities:

1. The man was holding a book.
2. The man was holding a tablet.
3. The man was staring at the floor.

Even if the man was watching a video on his tablet, it's still more
interactive than boob tube immersion.



Thank you,
--
Don
Titus G
2018-11-22 04:19:15 UTC
Reply
Permalink
Post by Juho Julkunen
Post by D B Davis
Dirt paths muddied by molten snow mean city street dog walks this time
of year. On an oblique approach to a house across the street there was a
clearly visible man sitting in a chair just inside his large, front,
drapeless, picture windows, which reached from the floor to the ceiling.
Thoughts of "Where is it? Where's the boob tube with its colored
sparklies to zombify him?" coursed through my mind. "Wait! What's this?
No boob tube. He must be reading."
There is hope for America after all.
You can watch shows on your tablet these days.
Or he was asleep, living the American Dream TM in technicolour.

To misquote The Count, the history of human life is to hope and wait.
Loading...