Like that saying about spiders, but it's zombies

 I thought I was all set to go busking tonight. I was all ready to go, practiced before bed, etc. I set my alarm clock for 3PM and woke up OK but since it would have meant only about 6 hours of sleep after a tiring day yesterday with all the walking, I went back to sleep and woke up at 5. 

About the practice, I had to really force high notes but then at the end, they started coming out beautifully. It seems wrong to force them but I've noticed that if I'm having a hard time one practice session and force them a lot, then they'll be much easier the next practice session. Go figure. 

I got out of here at about 7. I dropped off some stuff in the Little Free Library in Japantown, got some cilantro and garlic from Nijiya, and went over to the Nichi Bei Bussan store to pull off a heist. The heist was to take the bag of all of my shakuhachi stuff, the two shakuhachi, books, etc., and sneak it over the fence they had across the side entrance. They sell books and Japanese stuff and they should be able to sell the stuff just fine. 

The truth is, the Shakuhachi Yuu and the "Enhanced" Shakuhachi Yuu, both sold by small-hat chosenite Monty Levinson, don't even play as well as the cheapo PVC pipe ones cranked out and given away for free by Rinban Sakamoto. The original Shakuhachi Yuu probably made sense since it was originated back in the 1970s I think, at a time when PVC pipe wasn't everywhere like it is now, and when there were not easy to follow plans to be found everywhere, to make your own. At least the original Yuu was consistent and fairly much in tune, and looked at least a bit like a piece of bamboo. The company that made them, that makes electrical insulators or something like that over in Japan, has stopped making them now. Their time has passed. 

As for that Levinson character, he's the greatest shakuhachi maker in the world, just ask him! Typical small-hat modesty. Being made of bamboo, shakuhachi are inconsistent and often need a going-over, but this is the same as with violins, being made of wood. 

Probably the best beginner shakuhachi is the "Hoshi Arashi", made of plastic like the Yuu but I believe made of the same kind of plastic recorders are made from, and having a smooth bore and good volume. They're really hard to find though. 

In any case I'm glad to have washed my hands of the whole thing. 

I went over to Sakura Market next to buy some coffee and a bottle of Lipovitan. I noticed a ton of foot traffic along the Paseo de San Antonio and everyone I asked what was going on either didn't know or just stared like an actual zombie, and I'm talking about older people. I noticed the park area looked busy and thought "They're starting Christmas In The Park early" and rode over to check it out. 

Instead, it's a big Diwali festival. There was tons of booths for clothing and free face painting and jewelry and all kinds of knick-knacks, and food booths, and a ton of people. If I didn't have things to do I could have happily spent my evening there. This is kind of how San Jose works; all kinds of cool things happen but they're always hush-hush unless you're in the specific group holding the event or that the event is for, or you happen to stumble across it. 

I rode down to Big-5 to lock the bike and went inside to check out the sleeping bag situation. The upshot of that is, they have the one I want on display and 3 on the shelf. So if I can't make it to go busking tomorrow, I'll go down there and get one. 

I went into Walmart and got my stuff, following a little list I'd made. I only spent a bit over $40 and that's with an expensive bottle of instant coffee and four tins of good sardines. A guy come in right behind me and asked me if he could go ahead at the checkout, as he only had one thing. I said "Sure" and then there seemed to be a bit of negotiation going on, and it turns out he was something like a dollar short for his drink, and took off. 

I checked my things out and told the checker I'd have happily given him a dollar and she, a Vietnamese lady, thought that was a nice thing to do. "Go look for him outside", she advised. 

I did, but he was gone. There were certainly beggars though, and I gave one guy a few dollars because he was "saving up to buy some Robitussin" haha. Sure, here ya go, ya junkie. I'm just waiting to see someone huffing computer duster. 

Saturday night, full moon ... there were "florid" displays of various mental illnesses everywhere. Even in Japantown, on the way back, stopping to talk a bit at the barbecue skewers pop-up being run out of Aloha Fresh on Saturday nights, I was telling a gal how they (the barbecue skewer folks) are working on getting their own store front, just around the corner. Just then, yep, a weird guy, just another fuggin' zombie, pops up and starts saying weird shit and I took off. 

I got back here, put things away, and hooked up the bike trailer and loaded up some stuff I wanted to get rid of, and took off again. I first stopped at a sign place I sometimes find useful vinyl at, and put the main box 'o' crap in their dumpster. Then I took off for H Mart where I bought a few things, then rode around the back to see if anything interesting was getting tossed out. And yep, there was a zombie. In fact, because I didn't jump on my bike and take off quickly enough, the zombie slurred something about wanting a dollar. Of course. 

I went over to the chicken place and got two thighs. I'd been thinking about their chicken for a few weeks now. The guy's re-arranged how things are set up in there and the new layout is great. And the chicken is as good as it ever was, and for some reason, cheaper. Win all around. 

Full of chicken, I had a fairly successful route gathering up shipping materials, on the way back. I got back here and unloaded them and was thinking about making a couple of toilets, just the bottom part so not too heavy, "disappear". I got a piece of plywood to put in the bike trailer to help support them and just then - zombie! There was a damn zombie staggering around. So I, quickly without I hope appearing to be hurrying or in haste, put the plywood back in here and put the bike and trailer away. That's it for tonight, I've got the place all buttoned up. 

It's kind of like how there's this saying that you're never that far away from a spider, except with zombies. The damned things are just ... everywhere. 

 

I hope he found his halibut

 I had a lot of errands in mind for today. I got up at 3, left here at 4, and stopped first at the downtown post office to drop off packages. Then I went over to the bank and deposited my check, and their numbers only disagreed with mine by a penny so that's good enough. 

The weather was just right, not too warm and not too cool, to be really nice for the zombies to be out and they sure were. So it was another day of zombie-dodging. 

The first errand was to go to Whole Foods, buy a couple of beef sticks to eat on the bus, use the loo, and get on the #522 bus to Sunnyvale. 

Once I was there, I went into Dick's Sporting Goods to look at sleeping bags. Big-5 seems to not sell Coleman ones any more, so I thought for sure Dick's will. Big mistake. They had a few, some weird off-brand, that were hard to find. Plus a security guard who gave off the vibe of being an enthusiast of the kind of vodka that comes in plastic bottles, who kept on me to go up to the front and talk to the manager. 

So I did, and got a guy to go with me (to keep the security drunk off my ass) and he showed me the few they had, and I said "OK, thanks" and that was it. I think Dick's makes most of their money from mom-types who go to yoga classes, walk their dogs in the park and must be seen wearing just the right stuff, etc. And kids who need the latest, greatest, and most expensive stuff for the numerous sports suburban kids have to do. There's a smattering of other things, for instance I bought my last Swiss Army Knife there, but that's what they're about. Not sleeping bags. 

Then I went to Ross next door and the real fun started. I've found a make of underwear I really like, and I'd found some at my "home" Ross. The idea was to check the one there for any. I found a package of 5 from which two had been removed, and 4 more on individual hangers. Great. So I went up to the checkout where a very harried lady named Sybil of all things, got it all sorted out. She had to take the box out of inventory, essentially, and generate tags for the 3 pairs that were in it, print them out and attach them, then ring up all 7 pairs. The total come out a couple dollars less than I thought it would so it was all fine in the end, it just took a lot of time. 

I walked back out to the bus stop, and ended up talking with a nice young couple, the guy with a 10-speed bike and the gal, well, without a bike. I told them a #22 had left right when I was walking to the stop so it would probably be 20 minutes. 

We started talking about Sunnyvale, how things have changed over the years, what places are still there, etc., and I said at least there are no weirdos around while we're waiting for the bus. While I said that, a guy who might be a weirdo was staggering around the bus stop across the street. And yep, he started toward us.... 

I said I'm pretty sure it's not the same weirdo, though, as the original guy tended to remove his pants and throw them into the middle of the road. This guy kind of staggered near us, but as I observed loudly enough for him to maybe overhear, there are probably too many of us and I never leave home without my pepper spray. The weirdo staggered off in another direction, then gradually wandered nearer to us. 

I say weirdo not only because of the staggering aimlessly, but because he appeared to have ... maybe a plastic shopping bag ... that he'd inserted his head through one of the handle-holes of, and was wearing around his neck. And uh-oh but now the weirdo walked up to us. He was looking for "halibut". 

H-Halibut? Yeah, Halibut Restaurant. The bicycle couple and myself had no idea, and I said there's a seafood restaurant nearby (pointing) called Boiling Crab or something ... Yeah he'd just come from there. The plastic bag around his neck was the bib you wear when you're making a big mess eating crab. He realized he was unaware that he was still wearing it. (I joked with the young couple that the real way to do it is to not only wear the bib the rest of the evening, but also on the next day at work, so people could tell you were a diner of discernment, having gone to Red Lobster or wherever they dress you in a plastic bib.)  

We still had no idea where Halibut Restaurant was, and while I was parlaying with the guy, the young guy had checked on his phone and got nothing. (I've just checked now, and keying "Hallibut restaurant Sunnyvale California" gets me a reminder that "Halibut" only needs one L, and tells me that there's a restaurant called Fresh Catch in Sunnyvale and not very far from the bus stop all this had happened at, too.  The weirdo told us his family was there, and he was trying to find them. All I could say is they need to choose a better landmark. 

Finally the bus came and we all got on, except Mr. Halibut whose family maybe gave him directions, or maybe were happy to see him not there. 

I got off across from the In-N-Out where I ate so often back in the day, and walked through their parking lot to 99 Ranch. I noted that In-N-Out still has a security guard right there at the door, and that in fact for however much Mountain View is supposed to be upscale, it has no lack of sketchy types with pit bulls, people pushing carts of unidentifiable junk, etc. 

This 99 Ranch had, last time I was here, Ibumie White Curry Mee noodles. Now, they're out. I'm under the impression now that they can't get them, so that's that. 

I walked back out to El Camino Real, and decided I'd walk up to Castro Street and walk its length up to the train station and take the train. And ... that's what I did. I wanted to stop somewhere for something to eat, but wow, everything's expansive. I makes sense, though, as things are now priced for people making $100k a year, and will look expensive to someone making $20k a year. In the end I didn't get anything. 

I just got on the train and got away from the no-goods with their stolen bikes and pit bulls in Mountain View and got back to my local, hometown, no-goods with their stolen bikes and pit bulls hanging around my "home" train station. I got a few things in Whole Foods and rode off. 

I rode through San Pedro Square because I wanted to look for Ron, the homeless guy who used to play the recorder but "I can't find it now", who used to have a job washing dishes and such things at The Old Spaghetti Factory but got less and less hours and obviously because he couldn't be bothered to wash his clothes or clean himself, ever. And who used to live at "the waffeman's" house or really, parents' house, but could not keep up with the $420 (tee hee) rent. 

I wanted to find him to arrange a time to meet, because I'm of a mind to just hand off my flute stuff to him, all of it. Just messing around with the stuff, taking time off busking, has cost me more than I'll ever get for the flutes anyway. But he wasn't there. Maybe I'll just give the stuff to San Jose Jazz. 

So I toodled on home, with the streets away from the major entertainment areas really calm and quiet. I could disregard traffic lights to do things like breeze on past a couple of zombies, one doing a very energetic soft-shoe routine for the imaginary people in his head, and another one yelling and going on, that I could not see because it was hidden somehow. That's the cautioning part, because the zombie you can't see might be the zombie that decides your brains are the main course that night. So yeah I got on home. 

In other news at least I practiced before going to bed last night, and besides the usual exercises, worked out "Oh Little Town Of Bethlehem" which is a neat tune. 

And I guess I sound pretty antisocial but not only was there the fun interaction with Mr. Halibut, but one the first leg of the bus ride, I gave directions to, and talked a bit with, a guy who's taken the train up here from Mexico and was, apparently, visiting all kinds of things like Apple, and I guess he wanted to go to the Intel Museum but I think I convinced him the Computer History Museum was the one to go to, and at the moment he was on his way to eat at Five Guys, and I knew exactly where he should get off to go there so that was good. 

And at the end, when I was buying things at Whole Foods and about to head for home, the gal who was checking me out commented on my not being around for a bit, and how were things going, and so on. My playing music has me fairly well known there and, seemingly, liked. So that was cool. 

 

Rain plus internet outage plus shorter days, what a joy

 The internet went down a few days ago because Ken hadn't paid the bill and it had been shut off. He didn't pay the bill because he'd gotten his "Comerica" bank account canceled. 

How's that even happen? I asked and he said it was due to "too many overdrafts and stuff" which is a method of banking that's foreign to me. I've always been in the habit of having enough money in the bank to be sure of covering things. Usually far in excess of any checks I might write. 

So it sounded strange to me, because why would a bank not want my money? To loan out and make money on, as banks do? Oh yeah, overdrafts. Ken was probably keeping very little in the account and having it go negative, repeatedly, so his account was just more work and expense for the bank. Yeah, that'll wear our your welcome. 

So Ken had to try to pay for the internet, which because he had to use a new credit card was of course a long and difficult process involving trying, getting something or other "frozen", calling them on the phone to have them tell him their "system is down" then calling again, and their saying they'll call him back, and finally their telling them the DSL "should be" back on at 5 in the afternoon yesterday, or at least that's when he called me to tell me it should be on now. 

(Narrator's voice: It was not.) I found things to do, as I'd been doing, and finally at 10 last night just to make sure, I powered the computer up again to verify that the internet is off, and amazingly, it was on. So I was able to catch up on things. 

Ken came by last night and I got my check, etc. And he told me he's signed the new lease so that's taken care of. (Mr. Burns voice: Excellent!)

Yesterday was supposed to be a "rain day" but it was not, but it started raining last night and hasn't quit. So almost a full 24 hours. 

I've been practicing each evening and it's time to work on Christmas carols and also some new material anyway. It's been too rainy/cold/depressing to go out and do actual busking, of course. That's kind of the norm in this area, where there are maybe, at a stretch, 6 decent busking months out of the year. Fortunately December is one of them because of Christmas, and this time, being a sort of lead-up, might be OK. 

The fact that there are 3 busking blogs on the entire planet should illustrate how rare busking is. "Street Musician Daniel" in New Orleans hasn't posted for weeks now so he's probably either back in jail or back in the crack pipe. Marvin Naylor, lovely guy but old, has probably died. Both blogs are nearly impossible to find unless you know exactly the right keywords, and you won't know 'em unless you already know about those blogs. 

It's all a bit depressing, plus the days will keep getting shorter until just before Christmas and then they'll start getting longer again. There are a few holidays to cheer things up but it must be kept in mind that they're done according to the culture here. Which means things like Halloween are "trunk or treat" you drive your car to someplace, somehow candy is exchanged out of car trunks, then you drive home, just your own family unit, and I dunno, eat candy and watch TV (where eating candy and watching TV are the standard evening anyway). 

Thanksgiving is of course by nature not done communally, but is done at home, or one might go to a restaurant and get the special, and I might do that. Not a time for socializing because socializing is not looked well upon in the culture here. Top off the big dinner by ... eating candy and watching some TV.

Christmas, ditto. Again, drive to things, maybe to the mall to look at their big tree, shop some, go home. Eat candy and watch TV.  

There's something called the "German Christmas Market" put on by some German association, in Mountain View and I actually plan to go to that. I did it two years ago, when I decided to buy the student trumpet I had for a while from West Valley Music and see if I could pay for it with busking over the month of December. I did it, too.

A few days after I'd bought it, the Christmas Market was on, and I went there to play and played for an hour and made $60. To save money I'd taken the bus there, so I'd walked toward the main area of the event from the South, on Castro Street, and had simply set up where I started to see more people walking around, before being inside the actual even where I knew I'd not be welcome. So I played my carols and stuff I remembered, got tips and compliments, and being worn out after an hour because I was out of practice, decided to treat myself to a train ride home so I walked up the rest of Castro Street to get to the train station. 

Lo and behold, once I'd passed through the official event space and was just North of it, I saw other buskers, the usual hacks with guitars and amps, banging away. Maybe they made good money, I don't know and don't care. I'd wondered where the competition was, and there it was, playing the same crap they play all year, each trying to out-noise the other. It was pretty amusing. 

This time around, I know it's two days not one, and I might get a sausage or something although I'll pass on the gluhwein which is sweetened, spiced, wine. 

So tonight I'm just getting caught up and also clearing out a lot of crap that is just taking up room and won't sell, out of the shop. There's a nice big pile of scrap and junk out front now for the scroungers. And reading up on Reddit, as if there's anything that's very important that I'd missed. 

One interesting thing is some "insider" is saying that those "Trump Accounts" that are being given to children, supposedly, to start their college fund, supposedly, seeded with $1000 to start, supposedly, will eventually take the place of Social Security for anyone under 40. And that if they don't contribute at least $5k a year, they'll go to prison. 

Our Most Zionist President has been acting pretty much the opposite of the actual Adolf Hitler, who actually looked out for the German working class. And doing something like that would alienate what's left of his "base" so we'll see. 

Another more interesting thing that I've been able to verify, is that those taking those GLP-1 medications like Ozempic or Montjaro or my favorite, Zepbound (you're bound to look like a Zeppelin if you don't take our drug!) are strongly advised to get 140 grams of protein a day. That ... sounds kind of high... 

So I checked. And not only is this recommended by really mainstream sites, but it *is* a lot. To get 100g of protein you need 13 oz. of beef or something like 13 eggs. We're talking about half again as much. So we're talking 1-1/4 lbs of beef a day, or a LOT of eggs. Or any of the popular protein sources such as fish, cheese, pork, chicken, you know the drill. 

So your savvy GLP-1 addict, because the medicine is for life otherwise you'll look like a Zeppelin ... will need to obtain and cook up their source of 140g of protein, every day, for life. Their 1-1/4 lbs of beef or 23 eggs or what-have-you. 

Or, they'll turn to modern solutions such as the bodybuilder's favorite, the ol' protein powder. And God knows what that's made of, but who cares, it tastes like chocolate or vanilla or whatever flavor, and it's got tons of protein, it's right in the name, protein powder. Let's not think about how it tends to have high levels of lead in it (this is a problem with some spices too). 

Well before crypto "money" and AI were big, I'd noted wryly that we *have* responded to the increasingly dire environmental news. In response to global warming, we've made sure to consume even more each year, and each year set a new record in greenhouse gases being emitted and irreplaceable resources being used up. 

What I did *not* see coming was our inventing new ways to accelerate the process. Crypto "money" is the use of resources just to use them. AI means every little thing, even a simple google search, is actually very expensive in terms of fossil fuels used and greenhouse gases emitted.

And now in the US at least, these GLP-1 drugs are being pushed, and hard. We've already had a fair boondoggle going on with a sugar-based diet being pushed as "healthy" with the result of huge rates of diabetes and people being dependent on expensive diabetes drugs. 

But that wasn't enough. So now if all the advertising is any indication, the powers that be want everyone to be on these GLP-1 drugs, which are expensive in of themselves but even more  important, are not only drugs to be taken for life, but one must follow a high protein diet more suited to a bodybuilder (and modern bodybuilders are freaks) than to a normal person. 

This means a vast ramping-up of the consumption of animal-based foods. A normal serving of beef for myself is 4 oz., but they want people to eat 20 oz. I might eat 2 or 3 eggs but if I were to "get with the program" I must eat 23. Or I must guzzle tons of disgusting protein powder made from God-knows-what and with God-know-how-much heavy metal contamination in it. 

An amusing side note to this is, I can finally see why I'm seeing "protein" as the new buzz word in all kinds of food stuffs. Protein in sodas, in corn chips and all kinds of strange things. All to make that 140 grams a day. Anything, any way, to accelerate us toward the oncoming ecological collapse. 

I was reading r/prepperintel on Reddit and in the "what's going on in your industry or business" weekly thing, someone mentioned how sardines are getting harder to find and more expensive, because of the GLP-1 users needed 140 grams of protein. I mean, here I was, minding my own business, my ears prick up because I like sardines, and I read about this whole new horror. 

I mean, I am somewhat fit and can be really fit, by just going out and exercising more. Hitting the weights and using the outdoor gym equipment around here. I really don't need to change my diet. Just following a decent diet, some meat, some veggies, some nuts, some this, some that, is fine. 

But now I know these weirdos walk among us, pushing to get their 140g of protein a day (someone on Reddit said they "need" 160) and I'm not sure about this yet but ... the GLP-1's seem to be really cheap but it looks like maybe that's a "promotional" rate, to get people used to using them, then it's something like $1500 a month?  

 

Sunday blahs

 I guess it's the Sunday/weekend blahs. 

Bend, Oregon mother gets her 15 minutes of fame; book deal pending

 I'm sure she's proud. Her son, who she bought the gun for and taught to shoot it, has killed some kids and a teacher I think. It's made the news which takes more than 1-2 deaths in the US. It will all be forgotten about in a week anyway but might as well write about it now. 

This happens over and over. Parent or parents find themselves at 40-something, not having accomplished as much as they thought they ought to have, so they have one final chance at some fame, which to Americans is life itself. Teach their kid to shoot and point them towards a school! 

Then when the dust has settled, there are book deals, made-for-TV movies, etc.  Not to mention the morning talk show circuit with types like Regis Philbin. 

I got up today, did a quick run to the bank and to Whole Foods, and got back here in time to take the packages I'd packed to the post office and FedEx. 

The run to/from the bank was interesting in that the zombies are out, and in force, due I guess to the warm weather. Makes 'em more hungry for brainnnnnnnns I guess. I even had one on a bike start to follow me I think, I *think* the thing trying to ask me for money. I just don't understand the scumbag dialect and I guess they're intelligible to each other but they're sure not to me. I started to get my pepper spray out, and increased my pace a bit, and when I next checked the thing was no where in sight. 

Even on the shipping run, the damn things were around, and it gets dark early now so the rule applies that one generally hears a zombie before they see it. 

 

Looking forward to homework

 By which I mean, filling out my ballot so I can mail it in. 

Ken came by last night, I got my pay check (dated for *last* Friday but he means this one) and while Ken still hasn't signed the new lease,  I got him as far as sending the landlord a text and an email, and he looked up their new office address so he can go in person. 

It seems his laptop, still running Windows 10, was used by hackers somehow to send spam emails to the other workers at his job. So he turned it into their IT guy, who's "working on it". The trouble is, Ken says, the guy hates him and he hates the guy. I said that should not interfere with getting the problem taken care of, but it might be time to see about getting a newer laptop. One of his sons works for a company where he can obtain laptops and Ken says he'll get one from him. 

(Meanwhile I have a Windows 11 laptop waiting in reserve, but I may have to pay a place to install my preferred browser on it). 

So Ken's been essentially experimenting which how much he can piss off the landlord, to hopefully(?) be put on the month-to-month rent rate, which will be at least $1000 a month more. 

If that happens I think things can hold together here until mid-September next year, probably. But not certainly, and I need to be ready to move out sooner. 

After Ken had gone and I'd recovered a bit, I realized I was very tired so I just practiced and then went to bed. The practice went very well. The practice before, the night before, had gone so-so, but this one went quite well so this shows that regular practice is a very good thing.  

A Generalized Theory Of Boomers

 Yes, the generation of psychopaths. 

To keep it short and quick, the theory is this: Starting with the "Progressive Era" there was a great push to educate the general populace in the US. Along with this and improving technology, there were tons of "how to" or "self help" books published, and a big market for them. Around this time, there were "modern" theories of child-raising, advocating things like, "If a baby's crying, ignore it and let the little fella 'cry himself out'". 

Mothers and babies were separated right at childbirth, only meeting a day or two (or three) afterward. And so on. It was a sort of "be cruel to be kind" theory, that children would be "spoiled" if they were treated like humans. 

Naturally this theory would have been strongest among the most educated, the most "striving", the working and lower-middle and middle class striving upward. 

This would mean not only Boomers but my grandparents, raising my 1930s era, "Silent Generation" parents. 1930s - 1950s. 

Enter Harry Harlow and his experiments with infant monkeys. By the late 1950s to early 1960s, his theories, developed from work from the 1930s, showed that babies need love, full stop. That you end up with some psycho monkeys if they're not raised with love. And this extends to humans. 

Harlow's work, starting in the 1930s, published  in the 1950s, and not getting through to the same public who read those "be cold to your kids or you'll spoil 'em" books, until the 1960s, would explain why most (but not the later ones) boomers and also Silent Generation people like my parents would be, basically, psychopaths. 

While boomers are considered to be those born 1945-1965, I'm going to say there was a real change after 1960s. The real deciding factor is, ask yourself, was Woodstock a thing you went to or were of the age to go to, or a thing you saw ads for T-shirts for in the back of comic books as a pre-teen in the 1970s and wondered what the hell it was? A lot of the "hippies' who went on to be "me-first!" yuppies were actually Silent Generation, not boomers. 

And I'm not saying leaded gasoline, the Cold War, Ayn Rand, and all those awful "Cowboys 'n' Indians" movies weren't factors. But I think this "Be tough on 'em from the day of birth on" child-raising philosophy, widely popularized, is also one of the major factors. 

Gen-X and later are properly horrified at the standard American boomer practice of kicking their kids out by age 18, being determined and loud about not leaving them any inheritance, and even in some cases charging them rent and for their food etc. from when they start working in their early teens. People in normal countries are horrified at this also. 

And we can't discount the influence and control of the small-hats. An atomized mass of goyim are easier to control and exploit then a unified goyim with a sense of Folks. The USA is Exhibit A on this subject.  

Anyway, I think this (as far as I know) undocumented drastic change in what was considered the best way to raise children might account for "the generation of psychopaths" and could be worth doing a fully researched article or even book (does anyone read actual books any more?) about.