Why nuclear weapons degrade over time

 "A man who lies to himself, and believes his own lies, becomes unable to recognize truth, either in himself or anyone else, and he ends up losing respect for himself and for others.

When he has no respect for anyone, he can no longer love, and, in order to divert himself, having no love in him, he yields to his impulses, indulges in the lowest forms of pleasure, and behaves in the end like an animal. 

And it all comes from lying - lying to others and to yourself." - Fyodor Dostoevsky

Interesting humanist article

 "Talking nonsense is man's only privilege that distinguishes him from all other organisms." - Fyodor Dostoevsky

Weekend blogging: Hanging out in the parking lot at the Ford dealer

 "The best way to keep a prisoner from escaping is to make sure he never knows he is in prison." - Fyodor Dostoevsky

Old School

 Finishing up construction on the Elk Hills Power plant, on top of one of the boilers.  The rust-colored steam lines below aren't even insulated yet.

Sunday funnies

 

Jim Cramer is a well-known TV personality, who has had a financial advice show forever.  His predictions with regard to large-scale problems on the stock market leave a bit to be desired, however.  Cramer can be  good inverse indicator.

Microwave ovens and Leonids

 "There are two ways to be fooled.  One is to believe what isn't true; the other is to refuse to believe what is true." - Søren Kierkegaard

Moving along... Updated

 "I used to drink heavily, until one day I passed out and vomited while on my back.  Since that day, my body has refused to allow me to drink any hard liquor without gagging it back up.  So either my body is preventing me from making another life-threatening mistake, or I've died and gone to hell.  It's getting harder and harder to argue against the latter." - Unknown

Obstacles and their resolution

 "All of us are creatures of a day; the rememberer and remembered alike." - Marcus Aurelius

Veteran's Day

 More aptly named "Remembrance Day" in other countries.

For the Fallen

By Laurence Binyon

 

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,

England mourns for her dead across the sea.

Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,

Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal 

Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,

There is music in the midst of desolation

And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,

Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.

They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;

They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old: 

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning

We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again; 

They sit no more at familiar tables of home;

They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;

They sleep beyond England's foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound, 

Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,

To the innermost heart of their own land they are known

As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust, 

Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;

As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness, 

To the end, to the end, they remain.

Rough week

 "To be always fortunate, and to pass through life with a soul that has never known sorrow, is to be ignorant of half of nature." - Lucius Annaeus Seneca

Time for hobbies?

 "Receive without conceit, release without struggle." - Marcus Aurelius