continuing proofs America is wacko

Do I have to move my edits now?

Orwell wrote:Do I have to move my edits now?

Don't ask me! You're the moderator. I'm only godlike.

I do understand about the tunnel vision. I've had several experiences like that where I thought I was dead myself, and I do have sympathy, but damn, Orwell, those are the best funny stories! That's how you deal with it.

If the woman isn't laughing at herself I'm a little sad for her. (and personally I'd rather be laughed at than pitied.)

well this buffoon still thinks its hilarious, sorry. I bet she has a laugh about it now too. the most effective way to deal with trauma is to have a sense of humour. I remember being in the operating theatre about to have emergency surgery for a bust appendix, could easily have kicked the bucket, but i remember having a last laugh with the surgeon before he put me out, he told me he was about to give me drugs, I said was it the kind of drug that made you see pink elephants, and he said no they had run out of the good stuff and were giving me the left overs from the christmas party, we both giggled and i woke up much later, still alive and with a smile on my face.

I don't 'pity' her - I feel empathy for her, Dave! {{{Note to self: typical American - knows nothing of subtlety, nuance or humility - thinks he's God-like, I s'pose! }}}

Mrs Figg wrote:well this buffoon still thinks its hilarious, sorry. I bet she has a laugh about it now too.

I suspect she's now Anorexic, Mrs Figg... and I hope you can still sleep at night...

I think you need to put this into perspective Orwell, we are not heartless and insensitive, we just laugh in the face of death, its the only sensible thing to do.

As it turns out, Mrs Figg, the Bugle has just published a Case Study on this very same kind of thing on the Wholesome Tales Thread. I think you should read it - and perhaps know the washing of a changed heart over the matter!

Empathy, putting yourself in the victims place, defending them on a moral compassionate basis- are you sure your a cop?

An empathetic cop, Petty --- empathetic!

{{{You should read that learned Wholesome Tales article by the way. Backs up my view on this to a tee! Amazingly so, really. Spookily! }}}

Yes, I did give it a read but all I can remember from it is boobs. I'm a NotP reader.

I just read Wholesome Tales. Do you suppose it would be proper to laugh at Odo, or should I try to pity him too? {{And do you suppose Betty knows she shares a name with my cow? {{snicker!}} }}

Petty, I admit those boobs did tend to distract me from the articles central thesis! {{And I by no means disagreed with them either! }}}

David, please remember that Odo is an upstanding respectable member of our community, and I think you should show him more respect than you are at the moment. I find him to be an excellent employer - but I don't defend him because he pays me so generously!

Of course you're right.
It must me my typical American lack of subtlety, nuance or humility coming to the surface again.
I hate when that happens!

Don't we all!

I just went back and did a bit of quick research, Dave! Have you broken our encryption code? {{{Or maybe he is already aware of the American Psychological State? }}}

Sorry to interupt but was on the Fox Site enjoying the fall out over the health bill and came across a wonderful article. I dont even need to go into details as their own synopsis is funny enough on its own.

'Here are the psychological ramifications of the Supreme Court's ruling on ObamaCare: an individual mandate can make citizens see themselves as serfs who actually have no right at all to the money they earn. '

Yup thats exaclty how the rest of the civilised world views ourselves because we have health care. Incredible.

Obvious enough stuff, Petty..

{{{PS Petty... 'He Who Must be Obeyed" is loitering... f%^$%^&g sneaky Admins! }}}

{{{yes hes's been doing that a lot lately Orwell, how are we supposed to organise our coup now? }}}

{{{We'll just have to be even more clever than we are already -- that shouldn't be too hard, methinks! }}}

{{{I'm drinking extra buckie with that aim in mind Orwell }}}

Orwell wrote:I just went back and did a bit of quick research, Dave! Have you broken our encryption code?

I don't have a clue what you're talking about, Orwell!

Here's one of my adventures with tunnel thinking on several levels. I wrote it out for a different forum a couple years ago. Hope it make sense. It's also back to thread topic of wacko Americans!
Please laugh, pity, or ask questions as it seems appropriate:

This was back in March 1982. My buddy Dan and I had just figured out how to ride freight trains a couple months before. When you’re just learning is when you screw up most, but it makes the best stories once some time has passed.

Dan and I had decided to catch the BN northbound from Seattle Interbay to Bellingham. In those days you could walk right through the Interbay yard in broad daylight as long as you didn’t loiter. The yard workers would sometimes say hi and answer a question or 2. The only fences were to keep out stray dogs and kids. In those days Spokane and Tacoma were the only BN yards in Washington that were anything like hot. After dark the night watchman would sometimes invite you into the shack to show you the printout for the next day, and sometimes you’d get a cup of coffee. BN was like that.

So catching out was easy. You watched your train making up, wandered up the tracks to where they had to stop to push the button that closed the bridge by the Ballard Locks, picked a nice boxcar, then sat back and watched the scenery.

The trouble was we hadn’t figured out the Everett yard yet.

Dan and I were back deep in the boxcar as we passed through Everett. Our train never came to a complete stop, and at first we thought this was good. But then we noticed that there was farmland where there should have been houses, and the afternoon sun was shining in the right-hand door, which meant we were eastbound over Stevens Pass. Dan argued with me about this for about 15 min. That was Dan’s thing. He could make a good argument out of almost anything. Sometimes this got annoying, but about half the time he was right, and it sure passed the time when traveling.

The next problem was we were streamlining. Small packs. No bedrolls. We did not want to spend the night in the mountains where it was getting down to 0 (-20C).

As we started to climb toward the pass we decided to stay with the train till Wenatchee where we could at least stay warm for the night. By now the boxcar was getting really cold. There was no dunnage in the car to sit on, so all you could do was to sit on your pack and try not to touch metal, but the cold of the floor sucked the warmth from your feet through the soles of your shoes. I had wool liners in my boots, but Dan had made his liners from cardboard which was better than nothing but after just a few hours in the mountains his feet were numb.

We stopped at Scenic to add helper units, and 2 guys climbed into our boxcar. They told us they were going to Spokane and had nearly frozen the night before, even with sleeping bags. We watched them as they tied thick rags over their faces getting ready for the Cascade Tunnel (7 ½ miles and about half an hour). We tried covering our faces with bandanas, but I was still choking on the diesel smoke as we got into the tunnel (although it was warmer which was really nice!) I discovered it worked better to put my face down into my coat and breath the air from around my body, which was both cleaner and warmer.

Our train dropped the helpers on the other side. About an hour later we pulled over for half an hour to put out a hot box and let the breaks cool. It turned out there were 7 of us riding this train. By the summer this train would probably have 2 dozen riders, but in the winter there was plenty of room. We all got off and stretched our legs in the woods where the snow wasn’t so deep. The most professional rider walked over and talked to the train crew and learned which cars were rolling through to Spokane.

The train was rolling straight through Wenatchee, so we tossed our packs, jumped off on the fly and started scouting for warm places. We spent a couple hours putting high score on the “Battle Zone” at the mini-mart, paid for a movie and got a couple hours sleep in the theater, then over to Denney’s about 1am where we bought breakfasts and bottomless coffees. When it got light we went back out to the tracks to wait for westbounds.

We were there all day. Trains came by westbound every 2 or 3 hours, but they never slowed below 10 mph, and sometimes not even that. We’d decided we weren’t going to spend another night in Wenatchee, so we decided to catch on the fly. We got our chance about 3 that afternoon.

Dan stationed himself where they seemed to roll the slowest. I took both packs 50 yards further down the grade. When the first open boxcar came by Dan ran alongside grabbed the handle, kicked up and rolled in. I took off running and pitched both packs into him as he went by, then looked for a car of my own.

The next open boxcar was maybe a dozen cars back, and by now the train was speeding up. I grabbed the handle, kicked up and got my left heel over, but I was hanging in under the car a little and didn’t have the strength to pull up and roll in, though it would have been easy if I hadn’t been cold and tired. I tried again and missed again. I tried a 3rd time, but this time when my feet went down to kick I couldn’t touch the grade. We had passed the wide flat part we had scouted, and the shoulders of the grade now dropped away really steeply. And all the time the train is speeding up.

The next part happened really fast.

I’m flying along at maybe 25 mph hanging from the handle of an open boxcar, not able to get in, but not able to see where I’m going and not wanting to drop. Then I hear the lead unit put the hammer down and can feel the train beside me starting to really accelerate! No time to think. I shove off and let go, cover my face and head with my arms and try to roll into a ball. I land on the 3” ballast rock on my back and left shoulder and go rolling and flying down the grade like a sack of garbage.

The wind is knocked out of me and the world is spinning, but I jump up full of adrenaline and wave to Dan that I’m OK. He throws my pack out to me, maybe a quarter mile down the grade now, and I start limping toward it. When I get to my pack I lay down.

Back to real time again.

As lay on my pack I could feel my body stiffening and the blood from my cuts was filling my eyes. I knew I’d freeze if I just lay there, and this far down the grade they probably wouldn’t find me till the coyotes were done, so I put a bandana around my forehead to catch the blood, got up and started walking back toward town and the Greyhound station.

I don’t remember this part well. I know one leg was pretty messed up. I was afraid to sit down in case I couldn’t get up again. My nose and forehead were cut pretty bad from my glasses and the rocks, and the blood was running into my eyes and dripping off my nose and chin. I think I puked once or twice.

I somehow made it to the station and dropped into a chair in the back. It actually felt good that people were staring. After a while I felt a little better so I went into the bathroom and tried to wash up and stop the bleeding. I’d kind of straightened my glasses, but one of the nose pads was busted off, so when I came out I had toilet paper stuck all over my face to stop the bleeding and a big wad of TP under my glasses as a pad. People were still staring but nobody said a word.

I had some money, but I was probably $5 or $10 short of a ticket back to Seattle. I took out every penny I had, walked up to the counter and told the man, “I’ve had a really bad day and I just need to get to Seattle. How far west will this get me?” and put the money on the counter. He counted it slowly, looked at me for a second and said, “Today this will get you to Seattle,” and wrote me a ticket.

Sometimes the Dog (Greyhoound Bus Line) can be your best friend!

Orwell wrote:{{{PS Petty... 'He Who Must be Obeyed" is loitering... f%^$%^&g sneaky Admins! }}}

Pettytyrant101 wrote:{{{yes hes's been doing that a lot lately Orwell, how are we supposed to organise our coup now? }}}

{{{Remember, Admins can break encryptions. }}}