aleCcowaN
imperfecto del subjuntivo
The hemorrhoid?
Dang! We thought it was the varicocele!
Poor Buddha made a major statistics gaffe in not being able to constitute the dependent variable properly -- at all -- in any of the experiments from Jahn, his colleagues, or critics. That's a show-stopper right there. He made an additional physics gaffe in thinking the Fraunhofer model of diffraction generally produces a single-node bell curve of intensity from a single slit. (Hint: it doesn't.)
He didn't look at the curve queues very carefully before realizing his blunder (Or maybe he'll try another "Heisenberg moment" to justify his mediocrity)
You can see why Buddha is desperately trying to press on. He's trying to distract from those unrecoverable failures by doing his customary drive-by bluster on new material. He never addresses the responses to the drive-bys, at least not in any material way. It reminds me of the time Bart Sibrel tried to take questions at a screening of his film. Each person got exactly one question and no follow-ups, so that there was no chance to expose the hogwash answer Sibrel gave for each question.
Same deal here. The Palmer book (it's a book-length review of then-current research, written for the U.S. Army) is his straw man. He trash-talks Palmer on point after point, addressing the content only to say how meager it is compared to his own superior intellect. Or, these days, he just quotes a bit of Palmer and then writes some irrelevant ad hominem slur at one of his critics. As soon as there's any meaningful discussion that he can't bluff his way past, he comes up with some excuse -- he doesn't have time, or his critics are too stupid and therefore not worth his attention.
Well, he hasn't set course apart from his main strategy from the very beginning: choosing carefully selected small parts of carefully selected works he has some sort of excuse thought about. But he's even so bad a such comfortable tactic that it all resolves in bad mouthing those authors and finally in diminishing his
Thank Darwin that he still have some imaginary mathematicians and poker winning friends, some imaginary French cognac, some imaginary previous lives, some imaginary superior intellect, and the rest of things that make his inner front tolerable.
