I don't know why the AI added that word. I just asked it to give me some people watching TV through a main street storefront window.
10:15 AM No protestors or angry mobs outside the building, yet. For the last week security has walked the aisles of the newsroom a few times a day, looking for . . . I don’t know, agents of chaos hiding in the phone interview rooms, waiting to be activated. I chatted with a co-worker about people coming to protest, and my point was basically “why?” I don’t think either side views us as particularly relevant. The left is going to storm the lobby because we didn’t endorse Harris? The right is going to take down the globe because Trump lost? Pfft.
Rainy day. I voted in the morning, had a nice poll worker who loved my writing and missed my column. Sigh. I filled out my ovals, reminded as usual of the old Iowa Basics Test, our introduction to oval-filling. Did you take the Iowa Basics? It was a comprehensive know-how test, just to see how you were doing. I loved it, particularly since it didn’t affect your grades. You sensed it was very important, though. All the usual school-day activities were suspended. You bent over your desk and filled your ovals with great care.
12:33 There has been another security sweep. This time I believe he walked in the opposite direction. Have to change it up and keep things interesting. Still raining. No mobs outside the building. Well, better go workout before the unrest and / or end of Our Democracy.
2:03 The gym was empty. Perhaps everyone is hiding.
3:39 Driving home, I see two car accidents. I am reminded of the cad Cal in Titanic, looking around at the crowd and muttering "It's starting to fall apart."
4:02 At home. Dog disturbed by something outside. A mailman, a symbol of government? UPS, a symbol of private enterprise? Someone in a red cap? Someone with multi-colored hair? I rush to see, so I can post it on Twitter and confirm and/or deny what people are feeling out there, but it’s a squirrel, and that doesn’t mean anything.
4:03 I suddenly realize that it means a lot - but what? Birch would be anti-squirrel and hence applaud the quietus of Peanut, but the fact that he cannot get to the squirrel might indicate something else. The squirrel, as a symbol of martyred freedom, is protected somehow. I'm glad it's not a raccoon, because screw that guy.
6:00 We have Shepherd’s Pie for dinner. Wife bought it at Costco, so of course it’s large. Very large. The last time I saw something this round and big a guy walked out of it and said Klaatu Barada Nikto. There is no way we will finish it. Lunch? You say. No, I’m committed to working through the tub of chili she got at Costco. It’s better than the butter chicken we had the other night. I thought it had peculiar texture, and decided it was dark meat. When I was putting it away I looked at the label and it had . . .
Cooking instructions.
Well, I’m going to have myself to throw up, then. Right away!
“This was RAW” I said. Wife did not believe me, and I did not want to believe me. So I washed off a piece. It was cooked. Of course, they wouldn’t do that to you. They wouldn’t put raw chicken in the ready-to-eat section. This would violate the understanding between Costco and customer.
6:15 Birch gets leftovers and is very happy about this.
7:-00 - 10:00 Worked on the 2025 website. Realized I hadn’t arranged the matchbooks for the coming year. Hadn’t done the small banners for the Advertising of the Decades section. Trying to get good AI examples for the varous decades, and the results are amusing. It just can't do cigarettes.
Forgot to post something yesterday: an early ad for Bolsters, pre-Bolster family.
Wht can that possibly mean?
10 PM Look at Twitter but quickly scroll down to posts from hours ago, hoping for something that is about anything else. There are no posts about anything else. Close Twitter, pour a scotch, and fire up Wolfenstein. No, not that one. The one before. Remember that tomorrow is the release date for Planet Coaster 2, and I will, in a week or two, have aching carpal tunnel again from moving tiny pieces around to form custom structures. Will I once again as in PC1, design an intricate underground subway system? But of course.
11 PM I post the Bleat. I have not looked at the news. The news will be there tomorrow. I am going to have some ice cream, then dream of the imaginary worlds I will make tomorrow.
And you?
It’s 1918.
And you know what that means.
Not a lot of wiggle-room here.
This is different from the Treaty, which had to be hammered out; the Armistice was extended a few times to figure out all the details of truly putting the screws to Germany.
Foch gets pride of place:
Let's remind ourselves:
An aggressive, even reckless commander at the First Marne, Flanders and Artois campaigns of 1914–1916, Foch became the Allied Commander-in-Chief in late March 1918 in the face of the all-out German spring offensive, which pushed the Allies back using fresh soldiers and new tactics that trenches could not withstand. He successfully coordinated the French, British and American efforts into a coherent whole, deftly handling his strategic reserves. He stopped the German offensive and launched a war-winning counterattack.
Also:
After the reading of the preamble of the November 1918 armistice, Foch left the carriage, in a move that was perceived as humiliating by the defeated Germans.
Yeah, well, sucks to be you. But:
In 1940, after the defeat of France by Germany early in World War II, when France signed an armistice with Germany, Adolf Hitler, in a calculated gesture of disdain to the French delegates, left the carriage, as Foch had done in 1918.
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You can only imagine the joy. |
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Life goes on in the laff-a-minute columns, although they dip into current events.
Nothing much on Mr. Clemans. In fact, there’s nothing at all. |
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Oh now the German people get our admiration for rejecting the Kaiser, eh?
Well . . . okay. You don’t always have to do something symbolic, you know.
Look familiar? It was certainly influential: by 1917, he was the most widely syndicated cartoonist in the country.
Robert William Satterfield (October 18, 1875 in Sharon, Pennsylvania– February 17, 1958 in Glendale, California), also known as "Sat",[4] was an American cartoonist known for his editorial cartoons; he also created the comic strips The Family Next Door, Oh Thunder, and The Bicker Family; as well as the daily panels Sat's Bear and Days We'll Never Forget, as well as Bizzy Bear.
Bizzy Bear?! Really? Kidding; never heard of it.
Anyway, good day for all on the Allies side, and shame how it all turned out.
Shame it happened in the first place.
That will do! Midweek miscellany for Substack subscribers, with more on the Friday candy theme. You will learn something surprising about the 3 Musketeers bar. Over at Chain Store Age, we wrap up that particular issue.
There are, of course, more to come. Some day.
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