When SP and I bought this Little House In The Gulch, the idea was to fix things up and redo it in our image of a home we wanted to share. She was exceptionally handy with painting, electrical, and carpentry and could guide me through assisting her. Obviously, that didn’t happen. But enough years have passed for me to go back to our plan, but with contractors rather than a sturdy and self-reliant Appalachian woman with a belt full of cordless tools. So given that this is not a large house, everything is chaos as I stage things from room to room with the contractors one room behind me, literal musical chairs. A big complication is the, ohhhh, maybe 5000 books we accumulated, so they’re stuffed wherever I can find niches. And due to the vicissitudes of owning two large and energetic dogs, I have to be very selective of what I stash where, and determining how to limit their access.

Through all of this, my dogs as usual spend every conscious hour chasing, body-slamming, kangaroo boxing, and wrestling each other. With the construction, they have to do it outside in the bitter cold and snow instead of continually knocking around the furniture (and now ladders) in their struggles. And after I let them out and saw the wrestling commence, I came back in, shut the door, and muttered, “What of Lazarus?”

So many great birthdays today, it’s hard to know where to start. Maybe with a guy who may have even outdone Jefferson for range of brilliance; a pioneer of comedy films; an entrepreneur and champion of free markets; one of my favorite economists– and yours, too, I hope; everyone’s favorite senior; the best Catwoman; the star of the most hilariously bad baseball movie ever made and the voice of the worst news channel ever created; a cross between a baseball player and a gerbil; the unquestioned master of both puppetry and ventriloquism; simply The Greatest; an actual genius of comedy; the exact opposite; and a guy who makes me want to yell, “BANG! BANG!” just for the LOLZ.

And of course there are many LOLZ to be found in the morning’s Links.

Exactly as I predicted. Boot on face, forever.

“We can’t get union kickbacks from robots.”

Well, fuck them Danish anyway.

“Hey, there’s a rotary electric cheese grater! I know, let’s stick our dick in there!”

This is so spot-on insightful that it’s painful to read. And read it everyone should. If you only read one link this morning, this should be it.

Lots of noise, nothing’s going to happen.

I remember getting stopped by Customs in Luxembourg who panicked over a jar of diatomaceous earth in my luggage. Never ascribe to malice that which can be explained by incompetence.

If you cross woke with weird anti-Chinese populism, what you get is this boondoggle. Or moondoggle.

When academic grift is challenged, expect screaming.

OK, what could be more fun than this? The Old Guy is pleased on several levels. Did I say fun? Yes. Yes, I did.