Two Mojave Indian women playing a game (fortune-telling with bones?), ca.1900:
More, by Molhansen, 1856:
Timothy O’Sullivan photographed these guys:
Panambona and Mitiwara are these guys names, apparently.
Ken Wells with the byline there. How about this?:
link. Sam Walker the writer here:
Any time Grant meets Lincoln it’s tremendous.
I explained to him that it was necessary to have a great number of troops to guard and hold the territory we had captures, and to prevent intrusions into the Northern States. These troops could perform that service just as well by advancing as by remaining still; and by advancing they would compel the enemy to keep detachments to hold them back, or else lay his own territory open to invasion. His answer was “Oh yes! I see that. As we say out West if a man can’t skin he must hold a leg while somebody else does.”
Mr. Lincoln, supposing I was asking for instructions, said, in reply to that part of Governor Smith’s letter which inquired whether he with a few friends would be permitted to leave the country unmolested, that his position was like that of a certain Irishman (giving the name) he knew in Springfield who was very popular with the people, a man of considerable promise, and very much liked. Unfortunately he had acquired the habit of drinking, and his friends could see the habit was growing on him. These friends determined to make an effort to save him, and to do this they drew up a pledge to abstain from all alcoholic drinks. They asked Pat to join them in signing the pledge, and he consented. He had been so long out of the habit of using plain water as a beverage that he resorted to soda-water a substitute. After a few days this began to grow distasteful to him. So holding the glass behind him, he said, “Doctor, couldn’t you drop a bit of brandy in that unbeknownst to myself?”
An interesting detail: after Spottsylvania and the Wilderness, Grant is convinced the Union has more artillery than could ever be brought into action at any given time. The extra artillery was serving only to clog the roads. The North had so many guns they couldn’t use them all – that was the situation in the Civil War.
Grant is forever on the move. He is either attacking or maneuvering to attack. Moving on the enemy, that is his goal. Putting the enemy where he wants him and then moving upon him. Investing his towns.
The role of Sheridan in taking the initiative in the Shenandoah Valley comes through in this book. (Sheridan, more than the equal of Stonewall Jackson? A question for the real military historians).
I have always regretted that the last assault at Cold Harbor was ever made. I might say the same thing of the assault of the 22nd of May, 1863, at Vicksburg.
I didn’t know that Grant, when president, attempted to buy what’s now the Dominican Republic with the idea of repatriating black Americans there.
The proposal (I read on Wikipedia) was stopped by Charles Sumner.
The memoirs don’t cover Grant’s presidency, so we don’t get much more about that. What would’ve happened if the plan had gone through, and there’d been a mass resettlement of African Americans to Santo Domingo? An alt-history collab for Junot Diaz and Colson Whitehead –> limited series on HBO starring Rihanna?
Learned from Paul Theroux that safari in Swahili just means “journey.” When you drive to work in a way you’re on safari.
Learned from a guide that “mara” as in Masai Mara National Park means “spotted,” like spotted with thorn trees.
One thing we saw: a mother cheetah had killed an impala, minutes or so before. The mother cheetah crouched over the dead impala. Waiting. Scanning. Watching. She probably waited twenty minutes before she ripped into her breakfast. She’d expended a lot of energy, she was spent. And what if somebody else smelled the blood and came along to get in on it (and maybe you in the process)? I wondered if this pause before eating is at all connected to the idea of saying grace before meals. Primal need to have a pause and a lookaround before tucking in?
Then she chirped, and, eventually, found her six cubs and brought them over. You feel sad for the gazelle but to see the six cubs playing around and licking blood onto their faces is… cute?
The inhabitants known for their bloodthirstiness would’ve killed me if I approached any further than the Unholy Gate.
Quality is a company strongly entrenched as the sales leader in a growing market. Quality is a company that’s the technological leader in a field that depends on technical innovation. Quality is a strong management team with a proven track record. Quality is a well-capitalized company that is among the first in a new market. Quality is a well-known trusted brand for a high-profit-margin consumer product.
The hunt for quality. That’s what’s cool about investing. Hidden quality.
It can’t be all Warren Buffett all the time. Sir John Templeton has been getting my attention.
The hunt for points of maximum pessimism. Templeton worked above a grocery store in the Bahamas. His grand-niece keeping the flame. An interview from circa 1985. Later in life he devoted himself to spiritual searching.
Remember, in most cases, you are buying either earnings or assets.
The only reason to sell stocks now is to buy others, more attractive stocks. If you can’t find more attractive stocks, hold on to what you have.
Santa Anita racetrack is a beautiful place. There’s history. Seabiscuit raced there, a statue honors him. It’s good to sit in the stands, look at the mountains, and drink a beer, watch the horses race. Read the little horse newspaper.
Santa Anita’s been having problems though. Horses keep dying there.
Since December 36 (!) horses have died.
On Saturday at Santa Anita they had the Breeders’ Cup, a nationally televised race.
Santa Anita! This is your big moment. All eyes on you. You’re on TV, time to shine.
Don’t let any horses die.
They had ONE job. And what happened?
A green screen was rushed onto the track to block Mongolian Groom from the view of 67,811 fans and a prime-time television audience. He was loaded onto an equine ambulance and taken to a hospital on the backstretch.
Cup officials said in a statement about two hours after the race that Mongolian Groom had been euthanized after suffering a serious fracture to his left hind leg.
Couldn’t we pretend we were giving him tender care? euthanize him later?!
I’ll be sad if Santa Anita closes down. It’s like some enchanted time capsule of southern California. But, if you’re in the horse business, you can’t get me excited about horses and then keep killing them.