What California is planning to do to control power usage is the Nanny State, Big Brother and "1984" on steroids rolled into one, with a little "Twilight Zone" thrown in for good measure.
These ass-covering Cretins, who've done nothing in years to revamp our electrical grids, want to control our thermostats by remote controlled radio waves.
It's absolutely a double irony that they haven't rewired the state, yet power usage over the past twenty years has remain a constant while the population -- legal and illegal -- has more than doubled.
Why has power usage remained a constant? Because of vastly more efficient appliances, air-conditioners, heaters and light bulbs.
Keep your frickin' hands off my thermostat!
The California Energy Commission, that august body, which sets our energy-efficiency stands for home appliances, is seeking emergency power to control individual thermostats.
Odds are that will get the autocratic controls they are seeking.
It makes absolutely no difference to me that the new devices will only apply to new home construction and major home remodeling.
It's an absolute invasion of privacy to be able to come into our homes and mess with any household function...by remote control or not.
They might as well be marching through our most cherished possession -- our homes, our individual private castles -- wearing jackboot and swastikas.
Keep your frickin' paws off my thermostat!
I don't let the people who live with me touch the thermostat, so why should I let the State invade my home with their freaky radio waves and either change the temperature or shut it down altogether.
The tacit fight that continually goes on between spouses, roommates, and all co-shares of living quarters is over the thermostat. One thinks it's too high; one thinks it's too low.
As each walks by, she or he furtively moves the dial or punched buttons...depending on how up-to-date-your system is. It's kind of like George Carlin's one-cheek-sneak without the tell-tale odor.
We can be goddamn sure that when they're playing with their malicious radio waves at the height of a summer's afternoon, the bastards are doing it from an over-air-conditioned office while wearing parkas.
All they'll feel is that they're cold, so even though the temperature outside in my backyard is in the triple digits they can't see or feel us melting in 112-degrees.
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