Exactly. Then these BS'ers, I mean scientists, tell everyone how the planet was formed, how old it is, its chemical makeup, whether there is life on it (there isn't) and then provide an artist's rendering of it. All that from a little dot. "Follow the science"! LOL.Dont buy into all the hype on those space telecopes. NASA admits to artistically photoshopping the pics and making up all the color schemes. And i love when they have a detailed show on some planet they see out there but when u see the actual image its a just a little gray square pixel.
They were various colors. In some cases it isn't known. In others, chromophores were preserved in the fossils. In the case of Microraptor, a melanosome pigment was preserved that indicates that it had a blue-black color.Speaking of making up something, How did they know what color a dinosaur was?
Every dam one of them. “I wish my life was harder” said no one ever. What we think were simpler times, weren’t.Makes you wonder how many of them "folks" from 200 years ago would take a trip into the future and enjoy our modern conveniences.
That right there.Every dam one of them. “I wish my life was harder” said no one ever. What we think were simpler times, weren’t.
No doubt, recently read article in one of my muzzle mags about a modern guy, spent time up in NH, winter, deep snow, outdoors the whole time. Cold and wet to the bone. Wood so wet that couldn’t make a fire to cook or dry. Ate meat raw. He hated/loved it. I wouldn’t. Most wouldn’t. Different kind of guy.I'm pretty sure the majority would elect to go where things were easier. But would also venture to say there would be a few holdouts who enjoyed life and liked it just fine "back then".
Nostalgia is well and good, and it's fun to remember some of the good things, but I was born before Pearl Harbor, raised on a subsistence farm, and although we raised and gathered enough food so we always had something to eat, we were poor folks. I remember working hard every day. We raised hogs and chickens, grew vegetables, and gathered whatever fruit and nuts we could find. My mother canned fruit and veggies, plus we had bins of potatoes and onions, barrels of pickles and salt pork, a smokehouse with hams and bacon. Every room in the old farmhouse had kerosene lamps and lanterns for when the power went out. We did have indoor plumbing and water was piped into the house from two natural springs. I remember when my father and a neighbor dug the trench to pipe the second water from the second spring in. They did it by hand. Plowing was done every spring with a mule-drawn plowshare and then disked the same way. The fields between the house and the dirt road were mowed once a year by men with scythes,
earlier by my father and a neighbor and later by me too.
As a boy, I had my own scythe and sharpening stone, my own double-bit axe -- and my own work shoes. My favorite toy was my Daisy Red Ryder, and later the .22 I inherited from an uncle. My "fishing rod" was a sapling I cut myself until Dad got me a telescoping fly rod one year for my birthday.
We had electricity when it worked, lanterns when it didn't.
Our house was heated by a wood-and-coal burning furnace that had to be fed with a shovel and stoked by hand. We cut, split, and stacked several cords of wood every year for the winter months. The first phone I remember was a wooden box with separate mouth piece and ear piece, both Bakelite, and a crank on the side to get the operator's attention. We didn't have an automobile until I was ten so we walked to town when we needed to go and walked back. There was no television yet, but we had a big old wooden RCA Victor radio on a table in the living room and listened to broadcasts in the evening often.
It was a good, wholesome life but it wasn't easy. I'm very grateful to have had the experience but I wouldn't go back.
I nearly died with whooping cough one year but was saved by the new doctor in town who gave me penicilin.
Generations back weren't big whiners. Our generation maybe a little. But the next and then the next, sad to say "yup", they'd let you know in a heartbeat if something didn't go their way.My mom and dad lived through the Great Depression. They never whined about how great the old days were. Not once.
Foul water killed millions; cholera, etc. Those against immunizations should admire the guy who realized milk maids never got smallpox, and "invented" smallpox immunization; Washington's troops at Valley Forge were all immunized (with the old-timey method!) and that may have saved the Army to fight another day.View attachment 305805
How many would give up all the things we have in this century and go back to around 1800 or so ,
somewhere thereabouts,
to stand in line and put our x in the ledger and shake Fremonts hand and with one hand and receive our rifle and kit with the other,
to give up electricity ,clean running water, toilets, our highways , our vehicles , all the food we get from the grocery stores, medical Care.
No more City council Members , no more county commissioners , no more TV,
no more monthly bills, no more politicians, no more political arguments,
No more traffic to navigate to go get food, no more fat mouths and liars.
Collecting and shooting antique and antique style muzzleloaders are a bit of an escape from the insane world we live in today.
But there are accounts of people who , while out one evening driving on the highway or out for a walk went through some fog and emerged in a different century, when the fog lifted they were returned to modern times.
There's an enormous number of missing people in this country and in the world,
it's likely that a lot of these people have tragically met with a bad end,
But I wonder if some of them went back in time, realized what had happened , Kept their cool, and just decided to avoid the fog and stay there instead of coming back to this place the rest of us hafto live in
Ditto here, but society is cyclical. You know the oft repeated philosophy of “Hard times create strong men, strong men create good times, good times create weak men, and weak men create hard times.” I would have to argue that the nearest "sweet spot" for our country were the years post WW2 up to the turn of the century, after which socialist authoritarianism starts to encroach and take the shine off of many technological and medical advances.My mom and dad lived through the Great Depression. They never whined about how great the old days were. Not once.
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