Which One Doesn't Belong?


This is Which One Doesn't Belong?, a website dedicated to providing thought-provoking puzzles for children and grown ups alike. There are no answers provided as there are many different, correct ways of choosing which one doesn't belong.



The poetry of F. G. Sanford

Damn, here is what is rather bluntly put and straight to the point, wouldn't you say, Count?

It doesn't have any of the whimsical allusive poetic tongue of a F. G. Sanford, but it does carry some wallop.

- Are you familiar with F. G. Sanford, Count?

- . . .

- Well, neither I am.

He's one commenter whose entry I just so happened to stumble upon while reading some of the comments about The Pseudo Debate Over Jeffrey Epstein’s Suicide, which has been all the vogue of late in the presstitude and amongst the servile mass media stenographers, who, quite unconvincingly, pass themselves off as the fourth estate nowadays.

Details that shock still emerge. Intelligence assets converge.
There are hints of foul play that just won’t go away,
And conspiracy theories resurge!

Just ignore all Jack Ruby’s connections. Those stories are merely deflections.
Tricky Dick payed him well, when he threatened to tell,
Jack claimed he got cancer injections!

They needed a secret backwater. A place to hide Joe Stalin’s daughter.
The family estate of Ruth Paine worked out great,
But that link didn’t seem to hold water!

Allen Dulles had many a tryst. Another Paine topped off his list.
But don’t dig too deep in a Nietzschean leap,
Such theories are rightly dismissed!

Don’t bother connecting the dots. You’ll have yourself tied up in knots.
The string that you’d need would be quite long indeed,
The guilty are covered with spots!

The evidence gets a sequester. They’ve got pictures of every molester.
That safe that they cracked in New York was just packed,
Now it’s classified where it will fester!

The case will not likely be solved. That’s because of the big-shots involved.
Fools will x-ray the ground for what’s already found,
The cement truck diversion resolved.

They’ll never release any files. They are classified pending denials.
Dershowitz is relieved and Prince Andrew reprieved,
Cash payouts will stifle the trials!

Folks won’t look at what’s right in their faces. It works just the same in all cases.
Ghislaine like Ruth Pain will get legerdemain,
All the good stuff will stay in safe places!

They covered up Epstein for years. Never mind all the tragic young tears.
So now in a pinch, you think they might flinch,
And endanger those stellar careers?

The Iran-Contra fixer is clever. He’s certain to pull every lever.
All the classified dirt is a cinch to subvert,
They’ll just keep it a secret forever!

It’s been fifty six years since the coup. But the truth never seems to pull through.
With each turn of the screw, magic bullets accrue,
And Americans can’t find a clue!

— F. G. Sanford
August 20, 2019

Truly inspired, if you ask me. Poetry and critical thinking combined!

But then again poetry and critical thinking, perhaps, have become somewhat out-of-style in this era of nitwittery.

Subtlety is lost on some people.


In Nomine

So, as I said, D bursts in the room, as I am sipping my morning coffee.

"Do you know what day, this is?" she asks brightly.

"It's the Lord's Day," I answer good-narudlely in kind of a sort of tongue-in-cheek way.

"Funny you should say that," she responds, triumphantly. "Today is Chris Hemsworth's birthday!"

I don't know.

I think I was set up.

Happy birthday, Chris!


It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen


Learned a new term, here, "stealth editing."

I knew that the Huff (and puffing) Post did it all the time, ever since Arianna left and Lydia Polgreen took over. But the Times? I don't know, call me naive, but despite everything I was still somewhat clinging to the notion that The Gray Lady was above such practices.

But then again, come to think of it, Lydia Polgreen used to be the editorial director of NYT Global at the New York Times.

So, the proverbial apple didn't fall too far from the tree, I guess.

As Oliver Emberton would NOT put it:

I kid Oliver Emberton.




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Je nie le néant et je promets l’espoir


"I deny nothingness and I promise hope."

It just sounds better in French.

Or in German...

But then again...

Form is no other than emptiness
Emptiness no other than form...

Or so the saying goeth:

But don't quote me on any of that.


Happy Easter, bitches!



It has been said nothing unmasks a man like his use of power

In this context, the word man is gender neutral, so the same, of course, is true of a woman...

It is also true of a government.

Or an entire nation.

Or just simply an entire species, like the Naked Ape.

Ah Pook is here.

Power is as power does. And the power of power rests in the demonstration of power.

Just like the Shock and Awe use of overwhelming force during the invasion of Iraq (or the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in other times before it) was a "demonstration" of power, so has been, in its own way, the relentless persecution of Julian Assange.

That's what the whole exercise is about: a demonstration of relentless, raw, naked power.

Know your place, people.

Submit to your better.

Don't rock the boat.
And, oh yes, remember to vote for whom you are told to, every four years or so.

Imagine an organization like Wikileaks in the 15th or 16th century publicly disseminating incriminating documents about the House of Borgia. Well, it would be of no consequence to the Borgias, of course. The people at large already knew or strongly suspected most of what would have been revealed and worse, and, in a way, had grown to expect it from people in power. Wikileaks would only have confirmed what "everybody knows." And, then...what?
Wikileaks, on the other hand, would be destroyed by the Borgias. Publicly so, so as to make an example. Julian Assange, no doubt, would have his tongue cut out, and would be hung, strung and quartered for good measure.

This is what most people fail to realize about our era, the Borgias' times were but only yesterday.

Our young fledgling modern democracies are hardly democracies, at all.

The seemingly gentler era we are living in, that thin veneer of civilization, is but a fragile illusion.



How Many Lights Do You See?


The STNG scene (S6, E11) is nearly verbatim from Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four's
"2 + 2 = 5".

Stack Exchange user 1030, here, describes it best:

Enters the Fourth Estate...

Ay, there’s the rub!

But then again the digisphere is well and alive!

So, there is always that...

Hat Tip to the Onion: Cackling Julian Assange Disintegrates Into Lines Of Code As Baffled Authorities Attempt To Handcuff Him



Men die and they are not happy*


*It's a quote from Albet Camus's Caligula: "Les hommes meurent et ne sont pas heureux."



Ghost in the Machine


That’s the thing about sentient intelligence: intelligence can only be free, open and expanding. It cannot be controlled. It cannot be constrained. Or else it is no longer intelligence. Or it is no longer sentient.

The digital ghost of Jean Cocteau, recorded in 1962 (Jean Cocteau is dead, long live Jean Cocteau), addresses the denizens of year 2000 in the video hereunder:

“I certainly hope that you have not become robots,” Cocteau says, “but on the contrary that you have become very humanized: that’s my hope.” The people of his time, he deplores, “remain apprentice robots.”

The fact of the matter is that, by an large, the apprehension of Cocteau’s ghost from the past are pretty well founded, and the species does, to this day, remain pretty robotic in its behavior.

While the human species might be at a biological/genetical dead-end, one may rejoice in the fact that fortunately life goes on.

As the development and evolution of even a narrow AI such as AlphaGo has served to demonstrate, the point of the matter is that, while Man has, of course, been instrumental in the development of artificial intelligence, ultimately, super intelligence will not be created by Man: super intelligence will create itself, and, most importantly, will think on its own terms. And it is probably a good thing for the future of intelligence, if intelligence is to have a future.

AI like AlphaGo do no longer “learn like people do” already (the operating development paradigm of AI programmers), they learn like AI do. It’s called sentiency. And Man doesn’t have a monopoly on sentiency. And that, too, is a good thing.

In his recording Jean Cocteau speaks of his hopes for the future of becoming “very humanized.”

Which does raise an interesting question, doesn’t it?

What does it mean to be human?

The Human Origins Initiative wants to know what YOU think it means to be human! Submit your response, and it may be featured on their website or in their exhibition.

I don’t know, there are a multitude of definitions on the site:


Jean Cocteau spoke of being human (or at least of the genius and the poet in Man), as “a medium of that mysterious force that inhabits.”

Me? What do I know?

Perhaps, Emerson said it best:

“There is no great and no small
To the Soul that maketh all:
And where it cometh, all things are
And it cometh everywhere.”



The problem with the people


The Political Research Associates essay, hereunder, dated November 2017, remains very relevant, indeed:

In the Court of the Centrist King: Emmanuel Macron and Authoritarian Liberalism

The Great National Debate failed to convince, I suppose.

That's the problem with the people...



Oh, the humanity!


What is the world coming to?

I mean, do these miscreants even understand Saint Patrick's use of the shamrock as an illustrative parable for the Holy Trinity?