Chain of Fools

I never did watch any shows downstairs last evening, despite how yesterday's post concluded.

I was finishing up some supper a little ahead of 8 p.m. when my younger brother passed by my open bedroom doorway and quietly invited me down so I could use our Android TV Box to fetch up episodes of a few of the series he and I follow; but when I finished eating and was taking my bowl downstairs to the kitchen, he never acknowledged my presence.

It's not for me to intrude on him and Bev and seek to suddenly take over the T.V. She had her beloved Masked Singer or whatever the show is called just opening up with the first performance, so I figured that if my brother was going to stupidly stay silent about wanting to watch our shows, then he was on his own.

I came back upstairs and researched a source for Westworld ─ season three's episode seven ("Passed Pawn"). It was a darned good episode; and with previews of the next episode, plus a short 'behind the scenes' of the episode I had just watched, it exceeded an hour (commercial-free) by a very few minutes.

If interested, my source to watch it here on my bedside computer was this GOOJARA.to link. The website is probably going to be short-lived.

I had managed to hold myself to one can of Cariboo Malt (7.9% alcohol), since I was now going to be rising at 3 a.m. for yet another six-block walk to challenge my damaged right knee to gain more familiarity with the full mechanics of this activity, albeit for the second night I would be using a five-foot walking stick.

Anyway, at this point it was maybe 9:15 p.m., so I decided to risk going downstairs to add my empty beer can to where we collect the immediate other empties before taking any off to the laundry room for storage out of sight. My brother and Bev were watching an episode of Big Bang Theory ─ she had already watched at least a couple of others before my brother had gotten home. She seems to have no sense of surfeiture where this series and The Connors are concerned ─ she can watch the same episodes over and over.

As I was about to ready for bed at 9:30 p.m., I could hear the next show coming on T.V. downstairs ─ yet a bloody further Big Bang Theory episode!

My fool brother has got to step up and tell her that she's had enough of her own way with the T.V. that she takes possession of after he and I watch some morning videos. She turns it on, and she does nothing else all day and evening thereafter until she's had enough wine in the evening that she is finally ready to retire to their bedroom.

He was home this afternoon until a little past 3 p.m. before readying to leave afoot to catch a bus and head off to Green Timbers Pub to social drink. Quite often he leaves there relatively early because he doesn't have any of his favoured drinking companions show up, so if he is home early today and not excessively drunk, then he has got to tell Bev he has had enough of her banal T.V. shows and wants to watch the shows he and I follow in common via our Android TV Box that he is unable to operate.

It is coming to the point that I am going to tell him that I am no longer going to watch anything with him downstairs in the evening. Why the Hell should I be confined here to my bedside computer all afternoon and well into the evening in the generally vain hope that I will have a chance to watch T.V. downstairs?

I will let him know that this is not ever going to happen again, and he can forget about seeing anything further of shows he really likes such as Yellowstone, 1923, Lawmen: Bass Reeves, and Resident Alien, to name just four. If he's perfectly content to watch Bev's stupid cooking shows, buffoon Steve Harvey nonsense, reality shows, game shows, Judge Judy, along with the same sitcom reruns, then that is the entertainment diet he is going to henceforth have.

I will watch a lineup of shows here in my bedroom, and in so doing be unavailable to him. I am NEVER going to sit up just to be Bev's replacement anytime she finally gets drunk enough to finally go to bed. We either have it established that our Android TV Box comes into play before 9 p.m., or it does not come into play at all.

If such an understanding fails to come about, then three days a week I may start watching a succession of shows beginning in the latter afternoon, drinking alone here in my bedroom, and then getting to bed around mid-evening or even as late as 10 p.m.; but otherwise I will be content to maybe just watch one show while enjoying a can of beer so that I can be to bed relatively early in order to rise around 3 a.m. (as goes my present walking routine).

As for 3 a.m. this morning, I rose well before ─ 2:27 a.m. at most. When I left on my six-block walk shortly after 3 a.m., I found that it must have rained earlier, and felt rather chilly despite my heavy jacket.

I do not tend to start off with much ability, but I soon enough get into the swing of it through the confidence and stability that the walking stick affords. And I was just about back home when I could hear some loudmouthed clown(s) seemingly coming in my direction, so I was safely into the house before we saw one another.

I think that I was back to bed well before 5:30 a.m., probably rising just past 8 a.m. My brother probably emerged from his bedroom around 8:30 a.m. to go downstairs to watch T.V. and drink coffee.

My wife never came home last night, by the way.

Anyway, as usual I waited until just past 9 a.m. this morning before heading downstairs to boil water for my day's first mug of instant coffee and to join my brother for some T.V.

It is interesting that he never wonders to me why I have not been coming downstairs in the evenings to play and watch our shows ─ maybe he is fully aware why that is, and is too sheepish to broach the subject when he is sober.

When I was invited to put our Android TV Box to work soon after joining him this morning, I led us off with an 18-minute video uploaded yesterday to YouTube's AnitaK channel: Jimmy Dore on Carney Chaos and Trump doesn't care who's in charge.

FULL VIDEO on Jimmy Dore:
   • New Canadian Prime Minister Comes Out...  

I guest on Jimmy Dore  break down the newly installed Canadian PM, Mark Carney sneaky carbon tax plan.
Also, Trump doesn't care who runs Canada.

The only other video of this ilk worth mentioning was 45 minutes and published yesterday to Rumble's WTFLouie channel: Dr Lee Merritt Todd Callender Truth is Far Scarier Than Fiction! Buckle Up 11-Mar-2025.

https://rumble.com/v6qgjw4-dr.-lee-merritt-todd-callender-the-truth-is-far-scarier-than-fiction-buckle.html?e9s=src_v1_ucp

We were also to finish the last half hour or so remaining of the two-hour (2:09:16) video uploaded December 31, 2019, to YouTube's Talasbuan channel: A year in the Swedish wilderness.

This is our year in the swedish wilderness in pictures. You will see us work with all our different projects, building with timber, butchering, finally finish the fence around the property so the sheep wont eat our berry bushes, shoveling snow, doing the daily chores on the farm, tending the garden and taking care of the animals. Slow, hard and satisfying work.

My brother and I had noticed that the video included a lot of footage from previous videos from 2019. But it's really quite satisfying and comforting watching this stuff.

We finished up our viewing with nearly 40 minutes of a very old black & white movie that had a soundtrack that crackled so loudly that my brother complained the flaw was as loud as the spoken audio. But I will report on the movie once we have finished watching it.

He sought some bed rest, while I had a light lunch and then pursued a nap. It was likely disturbed by someone ringing the doorbell ─ twice. I couldn't hear that anyone answered the ring, but I was pretty certain that I heard Bev padding up the stairs to probably alert my brother, herself too fearful to deal with anyone; and my youngest stepson probably couldn't be bothered.

Incidentally, my brother said that Bev gave $400 towards the annual utilities bill due April 2nd ─ $2,777. That helps a wee bit, clearly.

It is presently approaching 6:15 p.m., so I am going to take a break from this post. I'll have a very light supper, and bide time to see if my brother arrives home early and sensible. It is raining outside, I have noticed.

★★★

At 8 p.m.'s arrival with my brother still away, I tuned in Katy Keene ─ episode 12 ("Chapter Twelve: Chain of Fools") of its only season. I don't like the series, but some episodes can be of interest, and this one was ─ rather touching, as well.

And I had a can of Cariboo Malt.

If interested, my source for the episode was this VidSRC.net link.

Meantime my brother evidently came home, and from the calibre of his voice in his conversation with Bev, he's a bit touchy.

As well, my wife might be home. I can hear independent kitchen-type noises happening that are unrelated to my brother nor Bev.

I am going to take my empty beer can downstairs and discover.

...And 'twas merely my youngest stepson getting serious about an evening repast ─ it was kind of cute. I congratulated him on his involvement, and got a sheepish grin in turn.

So, it appears that I shall be having myself an early evening, and a wee a.m. walk ─ is this my seventh? I forget now. Maybe even my eighth? I hope my brother enjoys T.V. with Bev ─ it's been over a week now since he and I watched anything together.

I reckon I'll shut myself up into my bedroom now for the remainder of the evening and anon get to bed. It is presently 9:05 p.m.