"While it lasts, the religion of worshiping oneself is best..." -- C.S. Lewis
An apology for the recent disappearing act.
The Overlord had the opportunity to make some serious cash these last few weeks and took it with gusto. A good thing, since I'm putting up the shutters on the business at the end of the year (some of that below), and I will probably need some extra scratch considering that it cost me $50 to fill the Nissan Tie-Fighter this afternoon...
...and I already HAD a quarter tank in it when I started pumping.
What I'll do next is still a mystery, at present, but at least I won't be starving and shivering in the cold this winter.
Assuming that Winter isn't swinging at anchor offshore, awaiting a berth, too.
Anyway, a few plums picked at the height of ripeness concerning the incredible self-absorption and stupidity of the Modern Human Being and some questions related to their continued survival, because it baffles me.
I don't know whether it is a testament to the success of Man, or an indication of our greatest failure, but it appears to me as if we have done an absolutely splendid job of fucking with Evolution on a grand scale.
What I mean to say is, in the past, people who one would normally describe as weak, clueless and mentally-challenged would not have survived for very long, left to their own devices, in eras past.
In the 21st Century, we have progressed so far that even the dumbest, most-careless, self-possessed, useless bags of protoplasm not only manage to survive -- often through no real effort of their own -- but to apparently thrive, as well.
I have encountered a few examples of this phenomenon in recent weeks and would like to share some observations about them.
It is said that Jesus proclaimed that "The Meek shall inherit the Earth".
He was wrong. He was wrong about a lot of things. That's why I don't attend the weekly struggle session with a collection plate. I don't follow, nor worship, those who have been proven incorrect time after time.
I won't get a shot because Fuckface Fauci is obviously wrong, for example.
Anyway, The Meek have inherited nothing. Rather, and you can check this by simply wandering about your own neck of the woods on any day of the week, The Meek have had their inheritance stolen by The Otiose.
I'll save you the trouble of looking that up:
Otiose (adj.) - being idle; indolent. Ineffective or futile. Superfluous or useless.
The Meek, far from being bequeathed all things in Creation, it seems to me, are instead doomed to have fallen heir to the assumed responsibility of keeping The Otiose in all the food, housing, medical care and trappings of wealth they can handle, and yet, The Otiose scream out for more, and The Meek are prevailed upon (forced) to provide it.
The Meek are The Taxpayers.
The Otiose are those who survive by forced extraction from The Meek, or, just as often, those who manage to scrounge what they can from The Meek, living like the pilot fishes that swim alongside sharks, opportunistically grabbing a shred of tuna here, a small morsel of grouper there.
Our first example is someone I would like to batter unconscious with a heavy object , and is someone the Overlord once considered a protégé. Here, we will have to explain how the Overlord makes (or, rather, made) his living this last decade-plus.
I am an Information Technology professional. I have been for the last 37 years, from the first day I walked into a data center in Manhattan and saw the Big Iron of a mainframe computing system for the first time in 1985 until the present day. The Overlord worked his way up the ladder, as the saying once went, beginning as a humble tape handler (in those days, data was stored on large reels of magnetic tape that were placed on reel-to-reel tape drives), eventually becoming a full-fledged Computer Operator (responsible for overseeing and controlling entire systems), a data center manager (responsible for a multi-billion dollar complex of mainframes connected to every Stock or Commodities exchange on the planet, supporting a world-wide network of 3,000 branch offices), and eventually, a Systems Programmer, with Automation as his specialty, responsible for writing programs that allowed systems to operate semi-autonomously, while the people who made them non-autonomous at one time, were sent to the Unemployment Line.
When the Madness that is the 80-hour Wall Street workweek, complete with all the alcoholism and mental illnesses that come with it, finally made me decide that this was not my life's work, nor did it make me happy no matter how much money they threw at me, I dropped out and went "off the grid" for almost a decade. When I returned, I figured out the only thing I wanted to do, still, was work with machines, but on my own terms, so I went into business for myself. There were plenty of places and businesses not Wall Street that could use a good dose of automation, but who couldn't afford the massive sums necessary to obtain the expertise and technology necessary to do so from The Big Boys.
So, I went after the Little Guys (comparatively-speaking) and made it affordable for them. But I did not (could not) do this by myself. I had, over the years, made many contacts among the IT community who in recent years have found themselves chronically un- or under-employed in various fields (this is now commonplace in the IT industry), and so I made them contactors. When I did not have the expertise to do something, I got someone who could and made it worth their while, split their hourly fee 75/25 in their favor, and collected the support contract fees.
And because these contractors were the very best that Wall Street had rejected, used to working on tight deadlines, long hours, getting it right the first time, and extensively experienced, the client got the absolute best available.
In 12 years, I think we had but a handful of complaints, and no lawsuits.
For brevity's sake, so long as there was a supply of under-utilized talent of a certain age available, this worked out fine. Eventually, Shit Happens. People have health issues and drop out, they get older and retire, or they just decide they've had enough and go on to other things. This means you have to start picking talent from the Younger Generation, which is a task on par with, say, splitting an atom in your darkened living room by the light of the television, utilizing a pair of tweezers and an Exacto knife.
The Talent lacks, or rather, the MATURITY lacks, and when you do find it, it pays to keep it happy.
Until COVID strikes and you discover that while you're shut down by lockdown orders, your young talent -- who you have trained and shepherded -- is setting up his own version of your cash cow and is stealing your clients.
And he's gotten some of the other Talent to join him.
And none of them has the balls to tell you what they're doing. You make this discovery by accident, when you sit down to renegotiate a support contract with a client and he tells you "I'm going with "Jeff"; he told me you're selling him the business" and you've done no such thing.
Now, giving credit where it is due, "Jeff" is very good at what he does. He pretty much sucks at everything else.
Having said that, "Jeff" once got locked inside of his own car when his "Smart Phone" battery died and he could not access the voice interface for the keyless entry system and could not operate a car door. If it hadn't had been for a passing colleague, "Jeff" may have been forced to eat his own flesh by lunchtime.
"Jeff" also once got lost on the Staten Island Rapid Transit system (check out the map at left). I'm not making that up.
"Jeff" could probably even mess up masturbating, given the right opportunity.
So, it was not terribly surprising when "Jeff", after I fired him, quickly flamed out.
But the damage was done. And COVID did the rest, with many of my clients simply going out of business due to prolonged work stoppages and lockdowns. Eventually, as always happens in business, the Big Guys finally figured out how to make the clients they formerly would have turned their noses up at remunerative (thank you, H-1B visas! As if importing COVID with our foreigners wasn't enough?), and the writing is on the wall.
Besides, I don't really want to do this, anymore, truth to tell.
The point being that "Jeff" couldn't start his own business -- I would have wished him well -- but only attempt to steal from someone else. If left to his own devices in, say, 25,000 B.C.. "Jeff" would have been eaten by wolves three minutes after he left the safety of the cave. "Jeff" is apparently Caveman for "very bad hunter".
The second example is the young...I hesitate to call him "man"...who I nearly ran down with my car about 10 days ago.
The Scene: The Overlord is stopped at an intersection by a red light, waiting to make a right turn (in New York, there is no "Right On Red" unless there is a sign present saying you can do so, but only after a full stop). The light turns green, the Overlord begins his turn...and here comes the dingus in the hoodie, riding his fucking kick scooter.
Asshole has his head buried in his phone, earbuds stuck in his ears, and is totally oblivious to the fact that he's about to glide right into oncoming traffic. I managed to stop without hitting the little fucktard, but he's angry that I almost did. The argument was futile, for no matter how many times you point to the "Don't Walk" signal and how many times you tell the little dipshit to "pay attention before you get killed", you're still a racist motherfucker.
Kick-scooter-minority-punk would have assuredly perished if dropped upon the Serengeti plains and left to his own wits to survive. Instead, he's possessed of a $1,000 iPhone, a pretty pricey scooter, and sneakers that probably cost the average person's weekly take home pay, and to judge from his limited vocabulary and hoodrat appearance, was probably raised in Section 8 or public housing, "educated" in a public school, the identity of his father is a complete mystery, and born to a mother whose only talents are giving birth and screwing the entire neighborhood. He's probably been eating paint chips most of his life and currently repeating the 6th grade for the fourth time.
So, if you're one of The Meek (not in the Biblical sense, but in the reality of the sweat of your brow being taken to support this bag of shit), congratulations: all your efforts and hard work have been redistributed so as to allow a complete cretin to have survived long enough -- and obviously well-equipped -- to the point where his dumbfuck is the result of your assumed "racism", before he carries on the proud family tradition of a presumed life of repeated incarceration, unsupported bastards, and most likely being killed by his own kind before his 30th birthday.
Our next example showed up in the addiction counseling center the Overlord volunteers at within the last week.
Here we have a single mother of two (by different fathers who refuse to pay child support), who was "forced" to join the Air Force in order to feed her kids and make some kind of living. She is approximately 50 pounds overweight, at minimum. You only need to look at her to see the mental difficulties she's having, in addition to being hooked on Xanax, Atavan, Oxycontin, booze, and probably any other mind-altering/destroying substance she can get her hands on.
I wouldn't doubt she huffs paint thinner, too.
Usually, the Overlord just listens to them and then tries to help them get to the right resources they need to start recovery. I'm not a therapist or a doctor; I just tell people that I know what it's like to be where they are now, there is help available, and this is where you get it. And, hey, you can talk to me, if you need to.
This last is often a mistake, even excusing for the compassion that many of these people need, because you get the ENTIRE LIFE STORY and the thing is, you know it before they even really get started.
So, this woman "forced" to join the Air Force came back from Afghanistan two years ago with a truly frightening case of PTSD. Normally, I would have sympathy: I know what PTSD is like and it's a fucking hell. I began to imagine just what it was that happened to this poor woman or what she had seen that had affected her so adversely, but my reverie was halted when she revealed the cause of her mental anguish.
Her fucking sergeant yelled at her for six months straight, and you get the impression based upon every other thing you've heard that this is a massive exaggeration. We're talking about someone with the resiliency of an eggshell to begin with.
Long story short, she was Honorably Discharged with a diagnosis of PTSD obtained in a combat zone, where her job was apparently counting rolls of toilet paper in a warehouse to ensure that no one was stealing it. I reckon if her sergeant was yelling at her constantly, it probably meant she was too fucking dumb to count.
The rest of her story was predictable -- strict upbringing in a "devout Christian family" that disavowed her when she "came out" and then was further befuddled when she apparently changed her mind and started pumping out kids produced by the sort of truly-fucktarded dudes one sees on Maury Povich day in and day out, no one "helps" her (i.e. supports her financially so that she can sit on her enormous ass eating pork rinds all day, and getting pregnant again), she's been a victim of this, that, the other.
"No one understands" (you hear this constantly; it is a fallacy on par with "I have a disease" (addiction), or some version of "I've fucked up my life and no one will take the responsibility of unfucking it for me, because I'm obviously too lazy to do it"), and the trials and tribulations of dealing with the Disability system, the Welfare State, etc, etc.
Normally, again, I would have at least pretended to have some compassion here, but what I was dealing with was all-too-common, and frankly, I'm sick to death of it. What we have here is a 100%, bona fide, died-in-the-wool, USDA-on-the-hoof Drama Queen.
This is a professional attention seeker, with all the "classic" side maladies that are part-and-parcel of the syndrome -- (deliberately) failed suicide attempts, self-mutilation, the claim of "fibromyalgia" (a phony syndrome common to overweight middle class white females who can't get laid for all the negativity and ugly that oozes out of them), changing sexual preferences ("I'm gay! Wait, no, I'm Bi! Wait, I'm straight but curious! Wait, I'm now trans and my personal pronouns are "Huh" and "WTF"!", and when being attracted to dead animals or inanimate objects or being obsessed with "Hello Kitty" becomes next week's hot-ticket to victimhood, she'll jump on that train, too.
This sort survives through a myriad of handouts from charity and government, the prerequisites for both being "dumber than an Irish Setter", a level of immaturity that's off the scale, and the constant positive reinforcement of being rewarded for being irresponsible.
The drugs aren't a crutch: they're part of the act. This sort can quit anytime they'd like, but there's good money in being a helpless wreck of self-inflicted dumbfuck.
This sort, too, preys upon The Meek in a cleverly-indirect fashion, and when they get called on their bullshit they have a variety of shields to hide behind:
Some form of abuse
And if you take the trouble to dig into these people's pasts (I'm not talking about this specific person, but the experience of others that I'm aware of) you find out that most, if not all of their story, is absolute bullshit, and that you're dealing with an infantile personality that has literally never had to take responsibility for anything, including themselves, because they've had a steady stream of "enablers" that they've manipulated along the way.
The dead giveaway is always "devout Christian family", which is a code for "my parents wouldn't let me stay out late as a teenager" or "my parents didn't approve of my boyfriend" which translates to "poor me: my parents cared".
And then you find out the bottle of Xanax she's carrying with her is a prescription from the ER, she's only been given quarter-milligram tablets, and they probably gave her that script just to get her whining ass out of the hospital. She's also got similar 'scripts from every other hospital in the area under different aliases, and she probably spends her days doing this with alternating days on various Welfare lines.
We have created something that once would have been thought impossible: a world where such idiots can not only live a very good life, but often not have to lift a finger to do anything positive or productive to do so.
So, as I've said, Jesus was obviously wrong. The Meek are being sheared like sheep.
So was Darwin, it would seem. Give the inferior examples of the species all they need to survive, and they quickly become the majority, instead of the Evolutionary dead-end.
The Meek had better start standing up for themselves.
Welcome back, Overlord. Your perspectives on life and current events are both entertaining and educational. Your posts were missed.
If you're in need of ideas for a future, I've got a fine middle management position open in Battery Factory #4 in my own empire. They'll be in need of a clear thinker like yourself.
Thanks, GMay, but I know jack about batteries. Also, where is factory #4?
What a sad little cretin you are.
Sitting behind your computer; railing at the world for your sad, pathetic life.
Cursing at the fates of all the people who passed you by, simply by being better than you.
Must suck to live in your world.
Good for Jeff.
I'm glad he fucked you.
Wow, how brave you are, sitting behind YOUR computer, posting anonymously and thinking you've done something . It must suck to live in your world where all you can do is curse the fates of all the people who have OBVIOUSLY passed you by, Troll.
Jeff failed, incidentally. He may have stolen my customers, but he couldn't deliver. Jeff will never work in this industry again because of it. It's an "interior" field, pretty much restricted to those who work in it and those who know about it, and guess what? we all KNOW each other, often for decades. "Jeff" is the only one getting fucked here: he's ruined his reputation and career.
I hope he's enjoying his new career at Taco Bell or maybe Dick's Sporting Goods.
s for me, I'm already a millionaire; the loss of revenue does not bother me. I don't have to work another day in my life. I do so because I want to, not because I need to.
Not like most minimum-wage-earning, lower-working class garbage who post anonymously.
What's the matter? Can't afford a name?
"Jeff's" DISLOYALTY, LACK OF ETHICS, and LYING does, however rankle. He showed so much promise and in the end turned out to be just like every other little fucktard of his age: self-interested, self-absorbed, confident in their ignorance and possessed of a certainty of ability that is hardly demonstrated in reality. In this case, "Jeff" made the cardinal mistake of believing that he could lie to people to were prepared to give him money for what would otherwise have been merely adequate service, only to lose that opportunity once they were made aware of what lying weasel he is.
As if I don't talk to my customers...ever?
In the end Jeff's labor put a shitload of money in my pocket -- and not his -- so, really, who has won? Who was really fucked?
As for your opinion, I put no stock in the questionable thought processes of people who are so obviously unaccomplished themselves, that they take delight when someone who is is victimized by one of their own kind.
Go fuck yourself and have a nice day.
So says the loser of an childish blog that gets 4 hits a year.
The little boy railing at the wind because he has no talent, no skills and no life accomplishments.
Look no further than your address, son.
You live on LOSER ISLAND, along with the rest of the ignorants.
You've already admitted that you'll be obsolete and out of work, so I say to you with all sincerity,
Enjoy the drive thru land at McDonalds, you cuck.
And if I only get "4 hits a year", you've already given me two, Dipshit.
If you don't like it, then don't read it.
It was actually 8600 this past week.
Who NEEDS to work? Certainly not me. I can sit on my ass for the next 100 years and still eat steak five times a week.
We're all eventually going to be obsolete, Son (although far be it from me to assume your gender), you're probably already there. Those of us with brains and talent still have a ways to go.
On the other hand, I'm getting the feeling I'll be seeing you in the rehab center very, very soon.
Apparently you don't have anything better to do except to flame and troll, so who is the loser again?
That would be you.... LOSER!
Just in case anyone is interested in the rant, this is, as I've stated here a few times before, the kind of response you get when someone has read something and personalized it.
Because they have recognized themselves in it, and don't like being reminded of what pieces of shit they truly are.
Hence, the intensely-personal nature of the attack.
Whoever these anonymous posters are, they've read this screed concerning a dishonest and unethical, dumb-as-dogshit Millennial douchebag, an inner-city-supported-by-the-taxpayer future inmate, and a drug-addled, mentally-unbalanced, unfuckable train wreck sporting a case of "fibromyalgia" (which doesn't exist) as an attention-getter, and decided "HEY! He's talking about MEEEEEE".
Probably all three.
And if its you "Jeff", you fucking duplicitous asshat, you need to teach your mother how to give a decent blowjob...again.
(I can't be bothered to make the effort to find out).
Not only is this Anonymous Hero afflicted with crippling projection, he's having to crib his insults from you in the same thread.
Dude is clearly an overachiever.
Achievers do not have this much free time.
Fibromyalgia exists. It's popular with the Munchausen crowd, so it's a noisy channel.
Fibromyalgia does not exist: the doctor who is said to have "discovered Fibromyalgia" realized he had made a mistake some years after the touting and celebration of his "discovery", and not only RETRACTED HIS FINDINGS, but called his own research into question.
In the meantime, Fibromyalgia had grown into a force of it's own, complete with other faulty "studies", a line of pharmaceutical "solutions", and thousands of internet support groups. Essentially, a flawed medical conclusion based on poor research had became a cult.
It (firbo) is like the Bigfoot or Loch Ness Monster of medicine.
This is why, unlike, say, 10 years ago, you no longer see wall-to-wall advertisements for "fibromyalgia" drugs on television. The "disease" has been proven NOT to exist.
And the "fibromyalgia drugs" that were once being peddled mostly turned out to be anti-depressants, anyway, which fits the "profile" of the average "fibromyalgia" case:
Fat, unfuckable, lonely and batshit insane females or gay men (the numbers are legion, and it's an easy disability dodge for all involved)seeking attention, any attention they can get, even if it means cluttering up Emergency Rooms and exaggerating what are mostly psychosomatic symptoms common to depression, anxiety and bi-polar disorder.
We see an awful lot of these in rehab centers; when the hospital stops taking them seriously, they start coming to us, their fibro now having mysteriously(!) morphed into a variety of substance abuse issues which often turn out not to be substance abuse issues -- they just want to vent, they want attention, or they want the opportunity to walk into a group session to complain about how much worse their situation is compared to that of a heroin addict.
There is a symptom cluster that is alleviated by a highly specific drug. Meets my criteria for having a name.
By that definition, then food poisoning and influenza are exactly the same, since they will produce nausea, headache, fever, diarrhea, etc.
What we have is a cluster of symptoms that are common to many other syndromes, diseases or whatever, not an identifiable, objective malady.
A commonality of symptoms does not make a specific disease or condition. It's just that: a collection of symptoms, and it is well-known that people who suffer from mood-related disorders will produce with symptoms of physical discomfort -- achy joints, chest pains, headaches, hot flashes and chills, and so forth.
Many of these symptoms are common to legitimate neuro-muscular diseases (Muscular dystrophies, for example)and rheumatic conditions (like arthritis) as well.
That doesn't equal "fibromyalgia" -- that is a catch-all term for "get out of my ER, you crazy bitch".
Ask around: if you took an informal survey of doctors, nurses, paramedics, pharmacists, therapists and associated fields, you'd discover that better 95% (I estimate) would agree with me to a greater or lesser extent: they see the same patients (Frequent Flyers) complaining of the same symptoms and yet they never find a germ, virus, fungus or identifiable physical or genetic defect that causes them.
This is a series of untreated or mistreated emotional disorders, and in the extreme, people who may have addiction issues related to pain meds and having their brain chemistry altered radically by irresponsible prescribing of anti-depressants, SSRI inhibitors or re-uptake meds, and so forth, that medical science barely understands, but hands out like candy, anyway.
I can speak from very personal experience on this matter.
The entanglement between "crazy bitch" and "unrelenting pain" challenges my cynicism although I'm not by nature a wellspring of compassion.
Since pregabalin sometimes works, let us exclude those for whom it works from the crazybitch throwaway category. Is it possible that there is an organic difference between the "pb works" and "pbdoesn't work" subpopulations? We could call it Alice, but its name is "fibromyalguia".
I spent a decade at NRL pulling consequential determinations out of IR imagery."It's a thing" ican be a very interesting hypothesis.. (When a 0/1 appears in the principal component, split the population for further study...)
I was married to a woman whose fm was eased by THAT.ONE.SPECIFIC.DRUG. it didn't do anything for the Cluster B or the lymphedema, but for her and many many others it eased fibromyalgia.
Let's settle the argument once and for all, phunktor.
Pregabalin is commonly prescribed for neurological disorders and disease. Mrs. Overlord, as I've mentioned many times here, has Myotonic Dystrophy, which is a neurological disease...and pregabalin worked for her, too...until it didn't.
I wonder, if your wife had a neurological disorder (diagnosed or not), because if she did then it is no wonder that pregabalin worked for her. That's what it was intended to do, after all.
That is not the same thing as "she had fibromyalgia".
Fibromyalgia, I repeat, is a catch-all term for pain and discomfort that cannot be determined by any standardized testing or diagnostic regime, and for which there is typical no clinical explanation.
Research (you can look this up at both Mayo Clinic and Johns-Hopkins) has determined that the VAST majority of people diagnosed with "fibromyalgia" are either addicted to chemical pain killers as a result of a previous traumatic injury that has since healed (the continued complaints of pain are a means of obtaining more pain meds), or people who have severe emotional disorders for whom traditional therapy has not worked or even been tried (this happens a lot in the world of psychotherapy).
Sometimes, even the prescription of a drug that serves no useful medical purpose is also helpful (see: the Placebo Effect). Sometimes, just the idea that a doctor handed out a 'script is enough to relieve (psychosomatic) symptoms, even if the medicine, itself, fails to work.
And the meds very often fail to work because we're dealing with the human brain and nervous systems, two mechanisms medical science knows the least about. There is a huge amount of guesswork involved here.
The literature vis-a-vis the existence of fibromyalgia and it's use as a label to slap on patients no one wants to dal with (because no matter how much medicine does for them, often, it's never enough or effective) is vast and varied, and verified. It is a name given to a collection of symptoms that have NO IDENTIFIABLE CLINICAL EXPLANATIONS attached to them, unlike, say a broken leg, appendicitis or cerebral palsy.
I have approximately a dozen "fibromyalgia" cases coming into the clinic I volunteer at every day of the week seeking someone to write them a 'script or buttress a phony disability claim, and have had similar numbers and experiences now for the last 20 years.
And my sympathies concerning your wife.
P.S. because I forgot:
Pregabalin is also given to diabetics who suffer from diabetic nerve pain, and cancer patients.
Was your wife a diabetic or a cancer patient, too? Or did she never receive a diagnosis of either? I ask because you've mentioned "lymphedema" which is also caused by diabetes, being grossly overweight, or as a side effect of radiation therapy.
As for "Cluster B" they all have identifiable names and well-documented symptoms (Borderline Personality Disorder, or Histrionic Personality Disorders ,for example) and all are also EMOTIONAL DISORDERS.
So, perhaps your wife didn't have "firbomyalgia", after all?
It's encouraging to have an actual argument.
Your position as I understand it:
(1)Fm is grossly overdiagnosed [when I was cramming for finals, yea half a century ago!, Dr Feelgood would just nod and hand over the Rx if I said the magic word "narcolepsy", which does not mean that narcolepsy doesn't exist..
If anything, MDs drafted as gatekeepers would rather be practicing medicine]
(2) If it exists, it is a neurological condition. [I sense that your Venn diagram has considerable overlap between crazybitch and NC, BUT I doubt that you tell your wife that it's all in her head]
(3) fm is exploited by Bad People to get Free Shit. I'm all in favor of abolishing FS (& BP), but maintain a perhaps naive propensity to reject "Some=>All" leaps of choler.
Which brings me to you: YOU who does choler so very verry well; yet beware "CAEDITE EOS OMNES"!-- while God knows His own, He just might overlook you for lack of caritas!
Cultivate the hopeful arts! Not all suck, and some who do simultaneously shine!
Karin(!!) had lymphedema from an early age, was not diabetic or a cancer patient.
Nevertheless she was and is a crazybitch
(I was on the bounce from being replaced by a boytoy from Yellowknife, and there's no fool like an old fool)
4U) Life is complicated -- it's worse with apophenia -- a greedy pattern matcher.
Not ALL of the information is in the first few eigenvectors of the inverse of the covariance matrix. The Black Swans will getcha if you ignore them!
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