Dune, Moods, Wrestling, and a Way of Life

“Look at the symptoms:  temperamental behavior, mood swings, facial hair.  Uh oh, Dad, I think you have menopause.” – That 70’s Show

cover

There ended up being roughly 732 books in the Dune series.  I stopped after book four, which was one book too many.

In our basement we have a wrestling mat.  It would be unusual if we had a wrestling mat and dismembered mannequin parts strewn around the room and baby doll heads covered with blood red paint, but we don’t.  The Mrs. and I decided we need to leave some projects for after the kids go to college.  So we use the wrestling mat for the more conventional purpose of practicing wrestling.  Both Pugsley and The Boy enjoy it, and so do I.  Pugsley has expressed an interest in winning a lot of wrestling matches, so he fairly enthusiastically led us to doing independent wrestling practice at home so he could improve.

One night it was time to practice.  The Boy was ready.  I was ready.  But Pugsley said, “I’m not in the mood.”

The Boy turned pale.  He knew what was coming next – the kraken was about to be unleashed.  I did a quick Internet search.  I then looked up from my laptop screen and quoted the following:

“Mood?  What has mood to do with it? You fight when the necessity arises — no matter the mood!  Mood’s a thing for cattle or making love or playing the baliset [JW: a musical instrument].  It’s not for fighting.” – Frank Herbert, Dune

gurneymood

If you’re not in the mood, make it so.

The lecture he got that followed that quote exceeded the amount of time that we would have practiced.  It’s the same lecture The Boy had gotten several years earlier, and he joined in to poke his brother with verbal barbs as well.  You may call it bullying, we call it raising children with values.  Maybe we should have stopped before we gave him a swirly?

The context of the quote is from the novel Dune which has spawned one bad movie (the early 1980’s version) and one underfunded movie (the early 2000’s version).  In the novel, young Paul Atreides is the son of a space Duke somewhere in the far future after humanity has spread through the stars.  Paul has the benefit of being royal, so he has a rather rigorous curriculum of everything from math, physics, and gender studies to small arms combat.  Just kidding.  Study math and physics.  Ha!  Studying math and physics is a sucker game:  study those things and you’ll have to pay taxes.

dunecat

This would have been a better plot than the early 80’s film.

Like all boys, Paul was looking for a day off.  His combat arms teacher, Gurney Halleck, rightly told him the truth:  when trouble is brewing or there is work to be done, the Universe does not care about your mood.

Like all boys, Pugsley was looking to push and see just how far he could get away with slacking.  The answer was simple:  he couldn’t.  He had made a commitment to his brother, to me, but most importantly to himself.  But sometimes, like all boys, he needed a reminder from his father that duty comes before mood.  So, he got the big speech.  I quote books, I quoted Patton, I quoted my father, I quoted Mr. Rogers®, and I noted that I hadn’t taken an unplanned sick day since before he was born.  Call in to the boss on a Tuesday morning with a sore throat?  No.

wrestlingmood

If you’re not familiar with wrestling, the guy in purple is like France at the start of World War II.

As an adult you have to do a lot of things that you don’t enjoy.  You have to go to work when you know it’s going to suck.  You have to take your punishment when you know you’ve done wrong.  You have to pay your bills.  You have to work out.  You have to meet the commitments you made, no matter how painful.

Keeping your word to other people is how the world sees that you have good character.  Keeping your word to yourself is the sign of real integrity.  Some days you don’t want to hit the weights.  You don’t want to go to work.  You don’t want to go to school.  You don’t want to go to practice.  You don’t want to meet that pesky General Grant at Wilmer’s place in Appomattox.

Boo hoo.

leemood

I heard you don’t have to lose the war if you’re not in the mood to lose the war.  Also, is it just me or does it look like they’re playing Battleship® on paper?

When you start failing to keep the commitments that you made to yourself, you’ll stop keeping your commitment to others.  What matters is turning on the alarm clock, and getting out of bed when it rings or beeps or whatever it does.  Every day.

You don’t need seminars.  Or pep talks.  Or motivational posters.  Or Tony Robbins and his weirdly white teeth (I swear that man has the grin of someone who likes to eat things that are small and squirming because they’re still living) and a $2000 seminar.

You need discipline.  Discipline is better than motivation any day.

Why do you need discipline?

discipline

Kevin Bacon understands.

Because motivated is a mood.

But disciplined is a way of life.

The Pros and Cons of Working for a Corporation (As Written on a REALLY Cynical Day)

“Could you tell me something about the Corporate Wars?” – Rollerball (1975)

accountingirregularities

My CEO says this is the wave of the future for corporations, or at least he does when we go visit him at San Quentin.

“Dad, where should I go to work to make a fortune before I win a Nobel Prize®?”  The Boy actually said this to me when he was in fifth grade one day while just he and I were out driving.  I think that his expectations might be more in line with reality right now.  In his defense, by that time he had already made the equivalent of $2,500 by trading in Bitcoin and other crypto currency in his bedroom on the computer he had built when he was in fourth grade.  I had no idea that he’d set up a trading shop in his bedroom until Wired® showed up to do a profile on him.  Needless to say, his computer moved to the front room the next day.

Today, The Boy’s expectations are a bit more in keeping with what most adults consider reality.  He’s thinking about college and career.  The Boy is now contemplating a life of drudgery where he spends his time at a dull, faceless gray job working long hours so he can fulfill his obligations by existing only to pay bills until he dies.  Oh, wait.  I guess I misspelled, “looking to go out and conquer the world!”

revenues down

Seriously, who touches people at work besides strippers and Joe Biden?

The sad fact is, however, that most Americans nowadays work for mid or large-sized organizations of more than 100 employees.  What’s the definition of most?

70%+.

I guess that makes sense.  We live in an age that celebrates the collective, the large, the behemoth, and that’s just our sodas and underpants.  And working for a corporation/large organization has to be nice, right?  Of course it is.  Otherwise, just like vaping, all the cool kids wouldn’t be doing it.

Well, there are upsides:

  • Steady Paycheck: Large organizations have figured out how to get money.  Notice I didn’t say make money.  Some borrow it.  Some get suckers  A friend of mine once did a calculation on a large corporation – I think it was GM©.  At the point of his calculation, if you took all of the money invested in the company, and all of the profits the company had ever seen and subtracted the investments from the profit, GMâ„¢ had lost money over its 100 year plus history.  But the check cashes every payday, so what is there to complain about?
  • Benefits: In theory, a large organization can negotiate discounts that save the organization money while providing valuable health care to employees, but in practice it’s a choice between selling the kidney the didn’t operate on to pay the bill or Fred’s Medical School Discount Surgery®.
  • Relative Disconnect Between Pay and Performance: So, why is this listed as an upside?  You have bad days.  Bad weeks.  Bad months.  So blame it on the business cycle.  Or on some competitor.  Or on someone.  Certainly it wasn’t you.  Mostly, a boss will buy this as long as you didn’t take a pellet gun and shot customers/other employees in the butt as they walked by while spraying mosquito repellent in their eyes.  Heck, even if you did do that, blame it on Phil from Marketing.  Everybody knows Phil is crazy.
  • Autocratic Governance: Your boss may be horrific, but can you imagine how bad they would be if you had to elect them?  Can you imagine the campaigns?  Then Phil from Marketing would start a Political Action Committee . . . .
  • Specialization: This is a true upside.  It’s nice that large organizations offer positions where you can study and become a true expert on a narrow slice of the business to improve results through superior knowledge.  Thankfully, after you’ve done this you can train your replacements from India who work for wages paid in cardboard, broken furniture, and used dental floss.

nigerian prince

“I wonder if McDonald’s® is hiring,” wondered wonderful Karen wonderingly.

  • Increasing Rewards: The farther up the organizational ladder, a strange thing happens.  It’s mentioned above that pay gets decoupled from performance, but the higher you go, the more likely you get raises and huge bonuses if the business performs poorly.  You’d think that this would require more work, but it really doesn’t.  Please tell me the last time you took off in the middle of the day to smoke weed while you were on a podcast?  Yeah, looking at you, Elon.
  • Occasionally, Working With Great Teams For A Great Boss: By accident, you are occasionally thrown together with a likeable group of competent people with good hygiene who share common interests.  These people are dedicated to producing good results and in helping each other for both individual success and group success.  Please notify HR if this happens so the team can be broken up and reallocated through the business.

seance

Apple’s® 2024 business strategy.

But it’s not all wine and PEZ® coffee and bagels.  There are downsides to large organizations, too:

  • Politics/Egos: This is the biggest one.  You might be humming along, doing great work, and achieving great results.  Then your boss gets promoted and you get his replacement:  Politics Manâ„¢.  Politics Man© doesn’t care about what you do or how you do it or the results you get.  Politics Man®, in fact, won’t pay any attention at all, since his superpower has replaced normal logic with a finely tuned sense of how he looks that day to his boss and/or the CEO, along with his other power, to turn Perception to Reality.
  • Perception is Reality: I had one job where my boss may have been a biker who indicated that he paid a witness in a felony trial to “be out of state” on the court date.  I have no idea if he was telling the truth, but he was weird enough that we all thought that he actually lived in his office.  His particular brand of Business Fu (ancient New York martial art) was to convince everyone that he was blameless.  In one particular instance he decided to blame me.  Thankfully, I had a friend who heard about this and tipped me off.  I walked into his office and used Wilder Fu:  “You know, I’m glad you’re my boss, since if I look bad, you look bad and perception is reality.  I know you’ll take care of me.”  He switched from blaming me to blaming Phil from Marketing.

drawing on windows

That’s what we do at work, just draw random words and circle them.  It’s motivating.

  • Random Compensation: One year I saved the company $800,000 dollars – and not made up dollars, actual dollars.  Result?  A 2.13% raise.  One year I didn’t contribute a whole lot at all but looked great doing it.  20% bonus.
  • Increasing Rewards: If you’re getting the increasing rewards, they’re awesome.  If you’re working and read in the paper how the CEO is off to Monaco after buying a New York penthouse, maybe not so much.
  • Most Decisions Don’t Matter (Pareto): As I’ve discussed before (Pareto and the 80/20 Rule Explain Wealth) a small number of decisions you make are the most important ones.  It’s the same for a company.  Most decisions simply don’t matter if you get them right.  I’ve noticed that if I want to keep management busy, I’ll ask them what color they want something to be.  They’ll spend (nearly up to the CEO Level) hours and hours with meeting after meeting just to pick carpet color.  One time the president of a multi-billion dollar corporation had to pick who got what office at a facility located somewhere in BFE.  As an aside – The Boy heard me say “BFE” the other day and was greatly amused when he found out the definition.  You can Google it® (not safe for work).  I’ll wait.
  • No One Knows Which Decisions Matter: Which decisions are important?  You can’t really be 100% sure – the chain of events started by a typographical error on a McDonald’s® menu that led to Joseph Stalin’s clone destroying Europe in 1978 and the rest of humanity having to escape to another dimension where they never invented the virus that wiped the memory of everyone that with an IQ of less than 160 . . . oh, I’ve said too much.  Never mind.

participationcheck

It was even sadder when they started fighting about who got to keep the trophy for “Nearly On Time To Work This Week, Tied For Sixth Place.”

  • Rules: Big organizations have rules.  Silly ones like having to show up on time.  Showering at least weekly.  Not flirting with the waitress.  Oh, wait, that’s not work, that’s home.  But big organizations do have rules, too, and they have to.  Why?  Because somebody always has to push the limits.  Every single rule in every company’s HR policy manual has a story behind it.  And every story has Phil from Marketing behind it.  Stupid Phil.
  • Weird Bosses That Got Promoted Beyond The Level of Sanity: See above.  This has happened often enough that I think that being a psychopath is a predictor of business success.  Oh, wait, it is? (LINK) That explains everything.

philfuneral

My bad.

  • Depersonalizing: You can be replaced.  That’s really part of the strength of a corporation – everyone from the CEO to the accountants to Phil from Marketing can be replaced.  In most cases, unless the CEO is visionary (and most aren’t) you’ll never notice the difference.  Who else is part of this faceless collective?    And the system will put you into a gray box with gray computer and gray walls and a gray chair.  Why gray?  Because it goes with everything.
  • Nobody Really Cares: I’ve worked with hundreds of people during my career.  Outside of a few coworkers from decades past, I’ve lost touch with most of them.  It’s not just that I’m a jerk (I am) but also that people are busy with their jobs, their lives and the only intersection they have with you revolves around that 8AM to 5PM time slot.  They’re like people your mom paid to have come to your birthday party when you were five.  Or that porkchop she put around your neck so the dog would play with you.

conference room

This wasn’t on my physics final.

  • Large Organization Jobs Only Prepare You To Work For Large Organizations: Let’s say you hit mid-career and decide you want to open up your own Sushi-Pizza chain called Samurai Luigi’s – it’s okay, I won’t tell anyone that your secret is serving the pizza raw, too.  Chances are you haven’t learned anything about business that’s useful beyond a small narrow window of “capital tax law related to manufacturing investment for Spork® production in Toledo, Ohio.”  See, corporations want you to be good at that.  But it won’t help with your garlic-salmon-tiramisu or knowing who to bribe to get the local building permit.

So, chances are you’ll be working for a large corporation, but that’s okay.  And to all of you soon-to-be graduates out there, look forward to a life of drudgery where you spends your time at a dull, faceless gray job working long hours so you can fulfill your obligations by existing only to pay bills until you die go out and conquer the world!”

Four Questions That Describe The Meaning of Life

“Well, that’s the end of the film. Now, here’s the meaning of life.” – Monty Python, Meaning of Life

pizza

I heard that someone told the Dalai Lama this joke and he didn’t get it.  Which is makes it even funnier.

I was busy trying to adjust my phone to listen to a podcast while driving and pouring coffee the other day, and it hit me like a ticket for inattentive driving:  There are only four questions that are worth asking.  I found that to be amazing, since I have hundreds of note cards with ideas for posts on them in boxes waiting for the right day for me to write them up.  So how do I condense most of those ideas as answers to four questions?

I was worried that this was too simple.  I bounced back and forth between three questions and four questions, but finally settled on four questions.  They were simple questions, and the first one that occurred to me is the first one on this list.

  1. What brought us here?
  2. Who are we?
  3. What is this place?
  4. Where are we going?

Originally I had a fifth question, but then I found my keys.  Under my hat.  Again.  Also, when I use the word “us” in this post, it’s certainly meant to include everyone.  Everyone except Johnny Depp.  He knows why.

But these are big questions.  As I thought a bit about it, these are the questions that drive me to write this blog, with the exception of the odd post here and there.

What brought us here?

This was the first question, and it hit me as I was working out the ideas for a future post in my head.  It hit me like an angry wet salmon wearing a bear suit.  At its core, this questions the all of the conditions that led to our present state.  All of them.  It questions the way that we are – as individuals, as groups, as a species.

War

I would have sworn that Washington had a blue lightsaber.

This is only a four word question, but it’s a really big four word question.  Thankfully, it’s simple to answer.  All you need to understand it is the answers to any questions you can think of in these subjects:

  • All of human history.
  • All of physics.
  • How PEZ® was invented.
  • All of the history of the universe.

So, the question is very short, and the answer is very long.

We still don’t know many answers to questions that are fundamental about each of these subjects.  One time I was talking to The Mrs. back around 2000.  My exact quote to her was, “The Mrs., I’m willing to bet that one day they find that we have Neanderthal ancestors.  I think that the reason why I came to that conclusion was based on me.  I’m pale.  I can sunburn under the glare from an LED computer monitor.

That sort of pale didn’t happen overnight.  Along with other physical observations I’d made, it just seemed the most logical conclusion that Neanderthal wasn’t extinct.  Neanderthal was us.

So when the DNA evidence came back and, eventually, showed that most European-descended people had Neanderthal DNA I wasn’t surprised.  And I’m not surprised now when I hear that our most basic assumptions about the way that things like physics work are subject to change – massive change.

An example:

At CERN (where they smash atoms together like a tipsy celebutant celebrating that her parents purchased her way into USC™ smashes daddy’s Mercedes© into a mom’s parked Ferrari®) they recently celebrated, with campaign(!), that they had discovered a particle symmetry violation between anti-matter and regular matter.

physics

If Vinnie drops a car on Frank’s car, neglecting air resistance and assuming g=9.81m/s . . .

That’s a lot of words for a very basic thing – let me break it down a bit.  The Universe that we see is comprised almost entirely of normal matter, not anti-matter.  But the Big Bang® should have produced equal quantities of both, so where did the anti-matter go?  This is a pretty significant question, since anti-matter explodes with the force of a billion bipolar ex-wives (GigaX) when it comes into contact with normal matter.  It’s really good for us that we don’t have this anti-matter going around and wanting alimony payments, but there’s no real reason that the Big Bang™ didn’t produce equal quantities of both.

This discovery from CERN might explain why my ex-wife anti-matter is thankfully rare in our environment.  It appears that anti-matter doesn’t follow the same physical laws that matter does.  This is the first time we’ve figured that out, but we don’t know how it’s different.  But think just for a second – what if you could have a substance that wanted to fall up instead of down?  That was anti-magnetic?  That could coat, soothe, and protect a sore throat?

Yes.  This discovery could provide technologies that we haven’t even dreamed about, but most people have never heard about it.  Thankfully we’re all up to date on Kardashians, though.

Thankfully there’s tons of things left to discover, both about ourselves and about the Universe that we can safely ignore while we are Keepin’ up with the Kardashians.

Who are we?

I got this question down to three words.  See what a ruthless self-editor I am?  This question opens up a lot of today’s biggest mysteries:

  • How the human body works.
  • How the brain works.
  • What consciousness is.
  • If people have souls.
  • Why 80% of the world is silly and watches soccer.
  • What health is.
  • Immortality – anything besides a great three-letter-score in Scrabble®?
  • What motivates us.
  • Why we do the things we do.

I’ll admit, some of these questions do have overlap – the question of “What brought us here?” overlaps some with “Who are we?”  Ancestors are crucial to both, for instance.  Protip:  since you inherit somewhere between 60% and 80% of our intelligence, the first thing you should strive to do is to convince your mom to pick a smart dad for you.

But even given thousands of researchers spending billions of dollars annually, the primary positive impacts to health in the last 150 years have been clean water, better nutrition, antiseptic surgical conditions, and antibiotics.  Newspaper stories keep showing up about the immortality around the corner, but I haven’t even seen one fifty year old mouse, and we can cure any kind of mice-cancer at this point.

vision

No, thanks, eyes are fine.  And I’ll skip the colonoscopy, thank you.

Thankfully, medical science can all of the questions about why humans are like they are.

Except for the interesting ones.

What is this place?

Our surroundings are curious.  There is the world and cosmos we live in, but there are also the civilizations we’ve made.  How does all of it work?

  • What virtue is.
  • Where virtue comes from.
  • What societies work well for humanity.

This is the question I could (sort of) cram back into the other three, but I felt it was important enough because of the great deal of discord in society today, and the uncertainty about the future of what we’ve made.  Understanding the ability for humans to govern themselves and live together is crucial, and we still haven’t gotten the knack yet.

Where are we going?

This is the final question, the future.  The mysteries of the future are different.  The past and present are set, the future is undecided, wrapped in probability.  What are the big questions, the big unknowns of the future?  This question is easy to answer if we just know:

  • The fate of ourselves.
  • The fate of our civilizations.
  • The fate of humanity.
  • The fate of life itself.
  • Physics (all of it), again.

I’ve mentioned religion twice.  Though it’s not a constant part of posting, it’s a very important component in understanding these questions, especially the ones where I’ve listed it.  And religion is important as a philosophical construct – it has been the largest single influence on humanity in all of recorded history, and probably before that.  Beyond religion as pure philosophy, there is that possibility that deity as contemplated by religion exists, and maybe even close to what is on the label.  Science certainly hasn’t ruled that possibility out.

bear

Does a bear answer trivia questions in the woods?

But in 2000, they had ruled out the possibility that we were part Neanderthal, or at least that was the general consensus.

So you never know what we’ll learn in the future.  And it looks like I’ve got plenty to write about, and with the amount of Neanderthal blood I have, probably some mammoth to catch and some caves to paint.

Weed . . . maybe not so good for you.

“Feller told me one time they got a weed down here and they call it loco weed.  When the horses and cows eat it they get wilder than all get out.” – Bonanza

reefer

Like this meow meme meow?

I used to be in favor of marijuana legalization.  The basis for my thoughts went something like this:  it’s your own body, so go ahead and put anything you want in it – it doesn’t ruin my day.  Add to that, if the criminals are running the marijuana business, we’re just funding the criminals with the profits.  If alcohol prohibition funded the Mafia so it’s still giving us problems nearly 90 years after their source of profits ended, we’ve probably funded the Cartels so that they’ll still exist when NASA restarts manned spaceflight for the United States sometime in the year 3224.

Criminals liked marijuana being illegal.

Politicians liked marijuana being illegal.

Anytime criminals and politicians agreed on anything, I figured it would be better to be on the other side of that equation.  And it’s just weed, right?  Stoners are happy folks, and probably actually do drive a lot better than anyone after a six pack and have plumper, pinker livers.

As a non-participant in marijuana culture (except for the occasional Cheech and Chong movie) my exposure had consisted of the two or so times I’d given it a try in the VERY distant past.  Like having hair after 30, marijuana was something that just never had impacted my life.  Weed was just weed, right?

Wrong.

potpie

What are Chong’s three favorite things?  Chicken pot pie.

I was listening to the radio around the year 2000, however, and a radio doctor (he specialized in AM and radios transitioning to FM) came on and said, “Guys, you have to realize – the marijuana today isn’t the same thing as marijuana from the 1960’s and 1970’s.  The new strains have been bred so that they are much, much more potent and have much higher levels of THC (the stuff that gets you high) than weed from back in the day.”  As a non-toker, it didn’t really matter to me, but I found the fact fascinating.  I filed it away, mainly to use in dad-related conversations when I talk to The Boy and Pugsley about not doing weed.

In my weird family (as noted before, my brother’s name is John Wilder, as well) one member (it would be too complicated and ultimately pointless to explain the relationship, needless to say we have a lot of the same DNA) of our family was . . . baked.  We’ll call her Jean Wilder, so we can have John, John, and Jean.

I was exceedingly young when Jean, who was thirtysomething at the time, came to live with us.  I might have been four or so.  It was obvious even to me at the tender age of four that Jean’s elevator was stuck somewhere near floor 13 – often she would sit in a chair, smoking cigarettes, staring blankly off into the corner of the room above and to the left of the 15” black and white television before laughing at something that no one else could see or hear.  Sure, this is common behavior today, but since this was before cellphones, this behavior was considered unusual.

rickism

More proof that weed is safe.

I asked Great-Grandma McWilder why Jean was so goofy, and Great-Grandma McWilder looked to the left and looked to the right as if to check if invisible elves were monitoring her in the kitchen (this was before Alexa®) and then whispered to me “dope.”

Sure, you guys might think she was talking about me.  And I’ll agree – most four-year-olds are pretty dopey.  But in this case, dope was what Great-Grandma McWilder called any illicit recreational substance.  Having been born in approximately 1732, Great-Grandma McWilder’s knowledge of illicit substances consisted of the illegal gin and untaxed cigars that I think Great-Grandpa McWilder sold at his “pool hall” during prohibition.  Or maybe he just read his bible all day?

Anyway, Great-Grandma McWilder whispered “dope” because at that time families felt a thing called “shame” for the misbehavior of their members.  I think “shame” has since been replaced with ribbons that say “participation” on it.

“What’s dope?” I asked innocently, because at that time in my life I actually was innocent.

She sighed.  It’s difficult when you have to explain to a four-year-old what illegal drugs were.  I don’t remember her exact words, but I got the idea that it was like aspirin, but very bad for you in that they hurt your mind.  She didn’t have to explain much more.  I had seen Jean.

As I grew older, I found out more about Jean.  She had been very smart as a child, but willful.  Her spacey and other-worldly behavior didn’t change as the calendar pages flipped, however.  As my school gave my class more and more details about the drugs we shouldn’t be taking including lots of instructions about how we shouldn’t take them, pre-teen me guessed that Jean had probably taken LSD (not to be confused with LDS) and the experience had changed her.  Forever.

stonedhenge

By the time I got to my teens, I asked Jean about her past drug use.  She said that the only drug she’d ever tried had been marijuana.  Back then, I figured she was lying.  Certainly grass didn’t cause the delusions and hallucinations I had observed, right?   Harmless weed wouldn’t have convinced Jean that Madonna® had stolen the songs from her notebook (this was what Jean believed).  Ganja wouldn’t have made Jean phone in a missing person report to the sheriff on ME because a shadowy cabal of evil doctors (I’m not making this up) had kidnapped me, even though I was off in the college dorms safe and sound at the time?  Reefer wouldn’t do that, right?

PAT SAJAK

Well, not so fast, Pat Sajak.

A recent study came out this week and showed that instances of psychosis were three times higher in areas where you could get strong weed.  And psychosis explained every symptom that Jean had.  Jean was very nice, very sweet, and a danger only to herself.  She self-medicated with nicotine – she was never without a smoke – but anti-psychotics seemed to work much better.

But trends are troubling – weed THC content has doubled in the last 10 years.  But Jean toked up long before then.  What happened to her?  Some mutant weed?  A lot of weed?  I have no idea.  I’m not a doctor.  Jean did live a long, happy, though not particularly useful life, and I’m certain wouldn’t be offended by this post.

weed

Okay, I guess this is my final conclusion.

There appears to be some evidence that marijuana and some marijuana derivatives are useful for things like seizures, overcoming chemotherapy side effects, and playing Red Dead Redemption™ and Fallout® in Mom’s basement.  Again, I’m not a doctor, but I will be warning my kids that marijuana is certainly more dangerous than is commonly accepted and should be avoided at all costs for recreation.  It’s just not worth the risk of, well, being psychotic for the rest of your life.  Plus I’m going to make them get tattoos that say “legal doesn’t mean moral” on their foreheads if I ever catch them lighting up a doobie.

If only there was a way to stop drug use while not funneling money to the cartels.

Oh, wait . . . virtue?

Nah, I must be thinking of something else . . . .

Want Some Short Term Gain and Long Term Pain? Also, Malta.

“In 1539, the Knight Templars of Malta paid tribute to Charles V of Spain by sending him a Golden Falcon encrusted from beak to claw with rarest jewels.  But pirates seized the galley carrying this priceless token and the fate of the Maltese Falcon remains a mystery . . .” – The Maltese Falcon

M1

In Malta they don’t check your bags for guns, they check them with guns.

Sometimes advice that is good for a country is really bad for an individual.  I tried building my own navy once, and it was an abysmal failure, since I’ve never lived near water all the ships just sat on the gravel.  Thankfully it was still enough of a navy that France surrendered anyway.  So, memo to self:  don’t build a navy 1000 miles away from water unless you want to take Paris.

But why beat on France?  I’ve discovered that on this blog, it’s really okay to trash-talk the French because in the last year I’ve gotten more traffic from Malta than I have from France on an absolute basis.  On a per capita basis, Malta is ahead on visitor count of any place in the world.  The United States is second, but it’s gaining ground.  Malta, spread the word!

I digress because it’s late and I’m a bit punchy – so I’ll get back to the point.  One place where the advice for a country and the advice for an individual both make sense is when it comes to know-how.  Where does know-how come from?  Sweat.

I had a boss fairly early in my career (technically a grand-boss, i.e., my boss’s boss) who was fairly fond of saying, especially when assigning a task that would entail huge hours of overtime and personal sacrifice, “Think of it as short-term pain for long-term gain.”  He’d smile when he said it, but that didn’t make it better.

Being young and stupid, we grumbled about what he was saying:  “What does he know?  It’s always short-term pain.  We’ll never get to the long-term gain.”  This was exactly the type of short-sightedness you’d expect out of a kid.  And we were kids, really.  We also worked our butts off while we were in our twenties, and most people who started in that group did okay.  The short-term pain translated (finally) into long-term gain.

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Please donate to Malta so they can end this horrible poverty.

It’s that way for individuals.  Is it that way for countries, too?

Yes, absolutely.

When you do something productive, anything productive, you learn.  You learn as an individual.  You learn as a company.  You learn as a country.  If you do it right, it’s painful.  It’s hard.  It’s work.  It’s frustrating.  And when you finally win?  It’s exhilarating.

If you do a really, really, really good job?  You get rewarded, by trying to do it again.

And those results are consistent between an individual, a company, and a country.

Imagine a kid who was born wealthy.  Given tutors.  Given “help” getting into a good college.  Coasted in college.  Coasted in Daddy’s company.  Unless Daddy was very, very wealthy, the kid will ruin the company as he runs the company.  Why?  The kid never had to work, never had to learn.

The entire life of the child was built around pain-avoidance.

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Okay, I’ll admit, that water looks the complete opposite of painful.  I guess I wouldn’t learn anything there.

I’m not going to blame wealth – wealth is neither moral nor immoral.  I’ve known wealthy kids who were better people than I’ll ever be.  I’ve known wealthy kids who weren’t worth gum on the bottom of my sneaker.  But poverty is no virtue, either.  I’ve met horrible people who had no money.  And, again, I’ve met people who were dead broke that could qualify for sainthood.

Morality aside (for the moment) the one thing I know about effective people is that they know how to work hard.  They are driven.  Most of them, wealthy or not, were not spoiled.

Pain and sweat is good for companies, too.  It makes them shed employees, it makes them focus on the things they do that actually provide value to the customer.  Or they die.  And the death of inefficient companies is good – those resources can go to companies that can be efficient, can meet the needs of their customers, like PEZ®.

But the critical step is playing the game.  If iPhones® aren’t made in the United States, we simply won’t know how to make them.  Certainly someone knows how to make them, but it’s not Apple™.  I won’t argue that Apple© designed the phone, but there is a world of difference between designing a complex integrated electronic component and building it.  In building iPhones™, the Chinese have solved the technical details on how to implement that design and how to stack all the apps behind that sheet of glass so they don’t fall out.  I’m relatively certain (though I’m not in those meetings) that Chinese teams from the manufacturer meet regularly with the Apple™ teams on design.  The Chinese teams tell Apple® most of what Apple© wants to know, but the Chinese teams learn:

  • Global logistics
  • Effective employee training
  • What stock options are
  • Management of complex system integration
  • Where the best restaurants are in Palo Alto
  • Quality control

All of that’s pretty good, but they also develop the teams on ground – the engineering know-how to solve the production problems that invariably start.  You might have a complete set of drawings of a baby, but you certainly don’t know how to build one from start to finish.  Nobody does.

Oh, wait.  You probably do.  Okay, pretend the baby is a 1966 Mustang™.  That you don’t know how to build from start to finish.  You have to go all the way from smelting iron to figuring out how to put numbers on the AM radio dial.

That’s (one of) the problems that we have getting into space nowadays.  We forgot how to build the Apollo stuff.  Certainly we know, for instance, what chemicals went into the heat shield on the Apollo command module, but we had to figure out how to build one in 2018 – the engineers who did it in the first place are all retired.  My bet is that they didn’t figure out how to build it the way they did in the 1960’s – they probably figured out a new solution.

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More fun facts:  If you stacked all of the current residents of Rome in the Pantheon, someone would arrest you, unless they were at the bottom of the stack.

This isn’t the first time we’ve lost technology.  The Romans used concrete to build many structures, including the largest un-reinforced concrete dome ever – at 142 feet in diameter.  How do we know this?  The dome still exists today – it’s in Rome, and it’s called the Pantheon, and like your mother, it’s almost 2,000 years old.  Yes it’s made of concrete, as in concrete just like your garage floor is made of.  But after the Goths came over for an extended visit, the Romans . . . forgot how to make it.  Consequently, concrete wasn’t “invented” again until 1824, and we weren’t that great with it until 1900 or so.  The Romans had a quality of concrete that was so good, it wasn’t until the last few decades that we were able to match it, and some of the properties we still can’t figure out.

We don’t have records on all the failures and sweat that the Romans had as they perfected their concrete, but they were good at it.

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This floor could break a LOT of plates.

But as the Romans learned, if you don’t make stuff anymore, you forget how to do it.  You specialize it, you ship it abroad.  The Romans didn’t have time for nasty old industries like making dinner plates, so they shipped it off to a lower labor cost area in what’s now France.  Archaeologists know this because when they sifted through the trash, they found these really nice plates.  But after Rome fell, trade fell off with France, and the factories closed because they didn’t have customers.  Archaeologists love plates because people break them on a periodic basis, and even more often if there are teenage boys in the house.  Thus, they go into the trash at a regular rate, and you can date the trash by the style of plate.

In the trash 100 years after the fall of the Empire (in the west), the plates were rough.  Even the most wealthy people ate off of plates that were inferior in every way to the plates common people had easy access to in the past.  The future didn’t get better, because the Romans forgot.

I worry sometimes that we’re the wealthy spoiled kid, shipping off our work to other people so that they learn how to do it while we ship them money that we’ve printed out of nothing, short-term gain for long-term pain.  But that’s okay.

Based on the recent protests in France, I think the French are planning something.  Maybe they’ll surrender to Malta?

Nah.  The Maltese are too good for the French.

Pantheon photo:  By Mohammad Reza Domiri Ganji – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, via wikimedia

Malta floor photo:  By Sudika [CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)] via wikimedia

How the Constitution Dies

 

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Soldiers heading towards Omaha Beach.

When I was in grade school the teachers spoke of the Constitution with reverence.  As second graders, we listened as the teacher told the story of how it was written and the freedoms it guaranteed us and the responsibilities that it demanded of us.  My grade school teachers were all married women, and they loved America.  It was a small town, and the teachers had grown up in the area.  Some of them had taught their own children and their own grandchildren in the same school where the chalkboard dust, lead paint dust, water from lead-soldered pipes, and asbestos floor tiles soaked into my skin daily.  Even the early reader books were taped together with yellowing cellophane tape at the bindings, and most of the books had been printed decades before.  I got to See Spot Run like legions of boys before me, running my fingers over the same dog-eared pages that had been read for years, young mouths quietly sounding out the words.

And these boys before me, who had sat in the same desks, drew beginning math on the same blackboards, pulling chalk from the same worn, wooden tray that I did, got paddled in the same principal’s office that I did.  They had traveled the world to strange places that their teachers never named when they opened the geography books during the time they spent in second grade.  These were places with foreign names like Guadalcanal.  Bastogne.  Chosin Reservoir.  Da Nang.

One of these boys in particular, a blonde haired young Ranger, was barely eighteen when he was shot climbing the cliffs at Pointe Du Hoc on the sixth of June, 1944.  His sister was a friend of my father.  As a young boy that Ranger sat in that same room, learning the same math decades before I was born.  He sat in that same classroom just a few short years before he was buried in Normandy in late spring at the age of 18.  No member of his family could afford to visit his grave until over fifty years had passed and his sister walked to his grave and touched its cold marble stone and ran her fingers over his name.  Despite that, the young Ranger isn’t lonely – he is surrounded by 9,387 of his comrades who died during the invasion of France.

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Rangers climbing Pointe du Hoc.

The teachers, those mothers, in the distant past had taught the children the value of patriotism.  The value of the Constitution.  The belief that freedom was a great gift from both God and our forefathers and was an idea and an ideal worth fighting for was taught to them in school and in church.  Those boys who travelled far wearing Army green, Navy blue, the camouflage of the Marines, and eventually Air Force blue were mainly the sons of farmers, used to hard work that started early in the morning and sometimes went too far into the night when the cows were calving.  The things that they were told that were true were God, freedom, family, and country and that you always had to work hard for these things, and sometimes you had to fight for them.  And sometimes die for them.

Even the cartoons as I was growing up were infused with patriotism:

Corny?  Yes.  

The school was torn down some time ago – I don’t know when.  A bond issue was finally passed, and a new school was built.  There aren’t many more students than when I went there, but there are new classrooms.  These new schools are gleaming with whiteboards and new furniture and new books, and from the pictures you can see that the kids look a lot like the kids from when I went there; but the connection with 100 years of history went when the building was torn down.

Change is inevitable, but the one thing that my teachers taught us was that the Constitution was a rock, something special, something that every American had shared for hundreds of years.  It was important, and it protected us, and protected our freedom.

I believed that, the way the boys that live forever on Pointe du Hoc did.

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Ladders used to scale Pointe du Hoc.

Today, however, the population of the United States is at least 14% foreign born, but I’d bet that number undercounts illegal aliens.  Second generation Americans, people born here of immigrants, account for at least 10% of the population.  A quarter of the population of this country simply has no connection to anything American.  10% were born here, but were raised in a household that had little to no connection to anything American.

I was working in Houston on one particular job, often late into the night.  The cleaning crew came in after 8 PM, and I was often still there.  I’d taken Spanish in school, and would share a sentence or two with the very nice cleaning woman who came by.  She spoke no English.  One day I asked her, in Spanish, “Why don’t you learn English?”  I realized that this nice person would have no chance to move up, no way to take part in the economic miracle that is the United States without English.

“Es muy dificil.”  It’s too difficult.

The cleaning woman is very nice, but has no connection in any meaningful way to the United States.  I’m sure she’s had children by now as 21% of children in the United States have foreign-born mothers.  Her children likewise have had no part in building this country and have no reverence for the principles of its founding, or the sacrifices made along the way to create freedom.  This is similar to me if I moved to say, England, or Denmark.  I love England.  I love Denmark.  I’m ethnically related to those areas and admire both cultures.

If I moved to England I’d always be the Yankee.  Or Amerikansk in Denmark.  My kids, even if I had kids there, wouldn’t be English.  They wouldn’t be Danish.  They’d be the “kids of that American that lives here.”  Maybe if my kids were born there, and then worked hard to assimilate away from the American attitudes and culture of their parents, then they one day the kids they had would be considered English or Danish.  I’m an American, a product of American culture and no citizenship documents will ever change that.

25% of the people in the United States, however, simply aren’t American by any sort of rational criteria.  One out of four – an amazing number and a number that is going to grow based on current trends and census data, perhaps to one in three by 2060.  The United States has never had such high numbers of foreign born in history.

As these numbers grow, the electorate changes to an electorate that has no history of a representative democracy – most people coming to the United States are from places where elections are not free and fair, and in many cases the politicians from those countries are so corrupt to make Illinois look like a Boy Scout® camp.  These are also places where constitutions are meant not for the people, but for the state, and are changed out with stunning regularity, often accompanied by firing squads and atrocity.  They expect better here, but they also are ready-made for the politicians that promise them the world.

The political class, however, is excellent at creating and playing on resentment in new immigrants with no history of good government.  Division is the strength of these politicians.  “Why do these people have a say as to who is an American?”  “Abolish ICE.”  “You deserve free education, free healthcare, free housing, free food.”  “Living wage for all.”  “Common sense gun laws.”  Thankfully, native language broadcasting is available to all of these new residents and new citizens so that they can avoid assimilation into the culture.

These residents also don’t have teachers that teach that the United States is good, that the Constitution is a meaningful document – times have changed and that just isn’t the “woke” take.  They don’t get any of this from their family, either.  Their family simply doesn’t know anything about freedom and the Constitution in most cases, and probably wouldn’t care if they did.  It’s a document that foreigners put together – it is not part of their history at all.

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Pointe du Hoc, after it had been taken.

As I said, I had faith in the Constitution.  It was a great wall that both defined and constricted government, but in recent decades “rights” have been made up from layer after layer of interpretation that have nothing to do with the original text.  On the other hand, rights that are written about clearly in plain language are somehow interpreted to be so limited that they hardly exist at all.  But there are still some protections that exist, as long as there’s a majority of five to four.  Change that number?  Watch those liberties evaporate as Justices that admire the constitution of South Africa, the one that’s being interpreted to allow the theft of land, become a majority.

If we have politicians that actively create divisions between Americans with a heritage of limited government and an increasing number of people for whom the history of the United States means nothing, the Constitution won’t mean anything.  It will be a speed bump for those who have no connection to it and who have no love of it.  The Constitution in the hands of those who hate the limitations it puts on them will, in the long run, provide no safety at all as it is interpreted away, as the press revolts against it, and as the newly imported electorate ignores it.

And what meaning will the blonde Ranger of Pointe du Hoc have then?

The Ides of March, Bad Drawings, and Why I Write

“All right, why did the soothsayer tell Caesar to beware the Ides of March?  Who wants to take a stab?” – Daria

byebye

Now this is a tough day at the office.

The Ides of March is today (if you’re reading in real-time) – and it’s been showing up a lot this year in coincidences – even a warning in a comment on this blog! – so I thought I’d write about the historical implications of the Ides of March on the career of the most beloved humor writer in American history.

Me.  Hopefully nobody brings up that Mark Twain poseur again.

Historically, the Ides of March was a Roman time for settling debts, and boy did the Roman Senate settle one in 44 B.C., which was the subject of my first long-form humor attempt.  In seventh grade, my history teacher showed us films.  As an adult, I’m thinking that history teachers show films due to hangovers (it’s dark, quiet, and they don’t have to lecture or even be awake as they sleep the scotch off in second period), but my utterly innocent seventh grade self didn’t make that connection.  And make no mistake – this was in the era before video tapes had taken over, so when we watched a film, it was a real reel, sprocket, and stuttering film noise affair projected onto a portable screen smaller than the average computer monitor at the DMV.

project

This device was wonderful – regardless of the subject, you could coast that day in school.

The film in question was about Julius Caesar, and I do think we watched it around the actual Ides of March.  I don’t recall a lot about the film, but I do recall this – Caesar was assassinated.  And not assassinated in any sort of short, quick, reasonable way.  No.  Caesar was stabbed in full cinematic glory dozens and dozens and dozens of times.  But it wasn’t graphic – it was G-rated.  Consequently the assassination was, in my estimation, was pretty close to the scene with the Black Knight from Monty Python and the Holy Grail©.  Man, could Caesar take punishment – no wonder he was in charge!  And it went on, and on, and on, and on.

This is the second best fight scene in movie history, without question.  It was also available on PBS® when I was growing up, and proved the old adage:  PBS© – good only for Monty Python™ and Doctor Who©.

So I wrote about Caesar’s assassination.  I created the one and only issue of The Roman Times.  The lead story of The Roman Times was about Julius Caesar.  I think I could nearly do the artwork and story from The Roman Times verbatim.  Let me give it a try:

Today’s news from Rome:  Caesar stabbed, shot, poked, prodded, speared, impaled, jabbed, skewered, perforated, and bayoneted MMLXVI times.  Doctors say he would have survived, however he did also have quite a nasty infected splinter and wasn’t wearing clean underwear, much to his mother’s disappointment.

bikini

Okay, I was kinda shocked when I found out that the Romans had bikinis.  Not only did they have bikinis, they had a swimsuit mosaic edition of Gladiators Illustrated®.

It’s more of a thesaurus approach at humor than my current subtle use of bikini jokes.  But I feel confident that if Julius Caesar would have known that a seventh grader would be laughing about his assassination 2000 years later, well, he could have died happy rather than screaming and bleeding because of the 23 stab wounds.  Yup.  We know it was 23 stab wounds because Caesar also had the first documented autopsy that we know of.  To make it all official, the Roman Senate held hearings and after reviewing all of the evidence discovered that Julius Caesar’s assassination was all the work of a single assassin, Longinus Harvey Oswald, who stabbed twice from the sixth floor of the Roman School Scroll Depositorium.

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Artist’s conception, as nearly as I can recall my seventh grade drawing – that thing behind him is supposed to be a bear trap.  Apologies to real artists like Steve (LINK).

The end result of all of this Ides of March musing is that I’ve been writing funny things for most of my life.  And this is Friday, and Friday means a health post.  So what does a dead Julius Caesar and schoolboy drivel have to do with health?

I write because it makes me happy.  I think I’ve mentioned before – when I’ve written a good post, one I like, I am happy.  It’s hard to sleep.  I know that sounds silly, especially since, if I finish the post early I’ll have four or five hours of sleep, and if I get distracted and research ancient Roman bikinis and then somehow end up researching the history of the 1st Marine Expeditionary Force the post runs late I might only have two or three hours of sleep that night.

But it still excites me to do good work.  And I recall that I was giddy when I was in seventh grade, putting together The Roman Times.  I enjoyed it so much I put together a sequel:  The Medieval Times, although I’m quite sure that I spelled Medieval wrong and I think the lead story was about some knight getting stabbed, poked, speared . . . et cetera.  Why does writing humor give me a sense of fulfillment?  I think for several reasons – I get a chance to learn and research new things, often with a purpose.  I love new ideas, new thoughts, and probably the best thing is when you laugh out loud.

No, not a generalized you.  You, dear reader.  I write this for me, but also for you, because I know that someplace out there this post made someone’s day better.

But not Caesar.  His Ides of March was pretty rough.  But at least his fame will live on through my glorious art, because otherwise people might forget all about him.

Pareto and the 80/20 Rule Explain Wealth

“Well, you know, 80% of all homeless rickshaw businesses fail within the first six months.” -Seinfeld

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Pareto:  He was into economics before anyone else was, but it was only because it was ironic.

Vilfredo Pareto was born in France in 1848.  At birth he was given the name Fritz Wilfried but his parents changed it to Vilfredo after the realization that they weren’t German (really – this sounds like a goofy fact I would make up because it might be true, like Lutherans being secret space-vampires, but Vilfredo/Wilfried’s parents actually were kinda nuts).  Vilfredo died in Switzerland.  The logical conclusion?  He must have been Italian.  And he was.

Outside of his extensive collection of Abraham Lincoln-themed women’s undergarments, Pareto is best known to us for the Pareto Principle.  As the story goes, Pareto was in the midst of trying to figure out what laws governed the distribution of wealth, and had pulled together historical economic records from all around Italy.  Now, modern Italian record-keeping is on a par with modern Italian engineering – I mean, has anyone ever been able to keep the oil on the inside of an Italian engine?  But the story goes that while working on this economic problem, Pareto was messing around with the peas in his garden and noticed that 20% of the pea plants produced 80% of the peas.

I don’t believe that story for a second.  It’s a well-known fact that Italians explode like watermelons dropped from the Empire State Building if they are in the same room with a pea.  Don’t ask me about how I know what a watermelon dropped from the Empire State Building looks like – Homeland Security® still hasn’t figured out how the watermelons were smuggled up there.  I’m just saying, never go to Olive Garden™ on Fresh Green Pea Night.  It takes them a week to clean the place up from all of the exploding Italians.

olivegarden

The pea proportions that Pareto allegedly observed, that 80% of peas came from 20% of the plants, seemed to match up with his data in economics.  80% of the land in Italy was owned by 20% of the people.

Looking further, 80% of a business’s profit comes from 20% of its customers.  20% of the words in a language account for 80% of the words used.  80% of crime is caused by 20% of criminals.  80% of car accidents are caused by my Mother-In-Law.  Seriously, do NOT be around the woman when she puts the car into reverse.

The numbers aren’t exactly the same in every example but 70/25 or even 75/30 is close enough to prove the point.  80/20 is nice because the math is simple.  It also adds up to be 100, which is nice and makes the number taste better on the tongue, just like watermelon that has been pulverized by being dropped from a great height, even though there is absolutely no reason for the numbers to add up to 100.

To me, however, this proves the idea that the universe isn’t fair.  Talent isn’t equally distributed, and, when you toss in the idea of chance, the result is inequality.  And it’s a vast inequality:  the 80/20 rule holds for wealth.  But you have to dig deeper:  the top 20% that owns 80%?  The top 20% of the top 20% (that’s the top 4%) owns 80% of the 80% (that’s 64%).  So, the top 4% owns 64% of the wealth.  Going one more time:  the top 1% owns roughly 50%.  The real number for the amount of wealth owned by the top 1% is around 38%, so it’s pretty close for an approximation and the missing 12% is probably under a mattress at the Elon Musk’s house.  Pareto’s rule is alive and well in 2019.

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It also tells me that even though intelligence and other human attributes follow a bell curve, wealth does not – it grows geometrically.  An old story I use to illustrate this is:  If you have fifty people in a room and bring in the tallest person in the world, well, the average height in the room goes from 5’ 9” (16 meters) to 5’ 10” (30 centimeters).  But if you add Bill Gates to the room, the average person in the room is a billionaire, though your credit rating might not improve as much as you are expecting.  Our brains are used to dealing with that normal distribution, but are inadequate when dealing with these quantities that grow geometrically.  And I think the thing that fosters that geometric growth in today’s society is increasing returns.

When I was just starting at work after college I knew a little more about computers than the folks I was working with.  Just a little.  But because I knew just a little more, my coworkers would ask me questions if their computer broke or wasn’t working right.  I didn’t necessarily know the answers, but I was able to learn more because I (and another coworker) kept getting all the questions.  Pretty soon I knew lots of arcane stuff about how the computers worked and how the network worked.

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The point isn’t that I’m a computer wizard, or even an apprentice magician anymore.  I got better at computers because I had a tiny advantage over my coworkers.  Magnified by a couple of years?  Expertise.  But expertise has to be used to be kept, and I didn’t keep my computer mojo.  The Boy and Pugsley have me beaten (by far) at this point.  The point is clear, however:  increasing returns is the rule, rather than decreasing returns.  You get better the more you do, and those slight advantages, that slight edge in competence adds up.  You get better by solving those problems that exist around you – much better.  And you don’t have to be perfect – you just have to be a little better than anyone else.

That was the story of manufacturing in the United States.  There is a ton of knowledge in books about how to make things, but what’s not in the books is the everyday know-how that’s required to actually make the machines run.  The more manufacturing we did as a country, the better we were at it, and the more know-how we had accumulated.  In one story that amazes me still – the SR-71 Blackbird, the fastest manned, air-breathing aircraft that officially exists, was built from contract to flight in just over two years in the early 1960’s.  The X-15 was faster, and also built in the 1960’s but it’s not a fair comparison, since it’s essentially the same as flying a rocket.

sr71

Now?  Fighter development takes decades.  Sure, they’re more complicated, but it took eight years from contract to prototype, and a further fifteen years to be put into service.  I doubt we could make the SR-71 today in less than a decade, if even then.

I think that one of three things is happening:  the first possibility is that we’ve forgotten how to make great stuff quickly, which Pareto can easily explain.  The second possibility is that we’re stupider, which I’ll cover in a post within the next month.  The third is we’ve forgotten how to make stuff AND we’re stupider.  It’s like we’re sitting drooling drinking warm Coca-Cola® because we forgot the recipe to make ice.

You can wipe away the drool because the bright side is this:  most of the decisions that you make don’t impact you all that much.  Pareto is at work here, too.  20% of your decisions, actions, and habits account for 80% of where you are in wealth, health, and wisdom.  The nice thing is that you already know what habits are good or bad, which ones take you away from your goals, and which ones help you.

The best part?  You don’t have crazy Italian parents who can’t decide what your name should be.

Colonies, Leftists, Madonna (sort of) and Science Fiction Movie Casting

“All right, but apart from the sanitation, the medicine, education, wine, public order, irrigation, roads, the fresh-water system, and public health, what have the Romans ever done for us?” – Life of Brian

gaul

Well, since the Romans subjugated what is now France, Britain, Germany, and England, it’s sad that they never managed to flourish as independent countries.  Because colonialism is awful, right?

I was having a conversation over the phone with a friend who is a little bit more politically correct than me.

“Maybe colonialism wasn’t such a bad thing after all.”

Coming out of the blue like that, it was, I could tell, a difficult concept for him.  Certainly he understood the words, but in the life he leads, I imagine absolutely no one would have said anything like that to him, ever.  He was currently in a very, very, very liberal establishment.  His brain might have broken from the unapproved thought.  It wasn’t as bad as saying, “I decided that maybe killing and eating calico kittens and wearing their fur as a hat might be a thing I’m in to,” but it was close.  One thing I like to do, in real life and in this blog, is to make people think thinks they haven’t thinked.  Very few pleasures exist for me as when I make people make that face which I call an Oh-face, as in, “Oh, my, I never thought of that.”

Of things that have a bad reputation since the year 1900, the two things that come to mind with the worst reputation are Madonna and Colonialism.    And nobody wants to be compared to Madonna.  What spurred my comment to my friend was an article by Dr. Bruce Gilley, of that noted bastion of conservatism, Portland State University.

madonna

Madonna is over 60 now, which might explain her overuse of eye makeup.  Oh, and the hormone replacement therapy . . . . 

Dr. Gilley put forth a relatively straight-forward question:  Is there a case for colonialism?

His paper, The Case for Colonialism (you can find a .pdf of it here – LINK) was published in a scholarly journal with the unlikely name of Third World QuarterlyThird World Quarterly was described by at least one scholar as a location to come up with anti-colonial ideas.  The reaction was predictable.  Over 10,000 people signed a petition at Change.org noting, in part, that “We thereby call on the editorial team to retract the article and also to apologize for further brutalizing those who have suffered under colonialism.”

It would be difficult to find many people who had suffered under colonialism who were still alive, since the last thing even remotely like an atrocity was the British reaction to the Mau-Mau uprising in Kenya.  I can’t find numbers that the Mau-Mau killed, which is a key indicator to me that the number was larger than anyone wants to admit.  Did the British commit atrocity in response?  Yes.  So, if you were counting, probably the last colonial victims would date to the 1950’s, making the minimum age of someone who suffered under colonialism somewhere in their 70’s.

In my mind it’s also pretty tough to claim that a magazine article brutalized anyone, but maybe it’s just the “magazine article proof” vest I wear and a vestige of “magazine article proof vest-wearing privilege.”  For the record, I wear the vest because I was once highly offended The Family Circus.

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Yes it DOES look like Steve Buscemi!  Triggered!

Gilley has the temerity to point out that since colonialism ended, things have not always been the picture of health in Africa.  In his paper, Dr. Gilley notes:

Yet until very late, European colonialism appears to have been highly legitimate and for good reasons.  Millions of people moved closer to areas of more intensive colonial rule, sent their children to colonial schools and hospitals, went beyond the call of duty in positions in colonial governments, reported crimes to colonial police, migrated from non-colonised to colonised areas, fought for colonial armies and participated in colonial political processes – all relatively voluntary acts.  Indeed, the rapid spread and persistence of Western colonialism with very little force relative to the populations and areas concerned is prima facie evidence of its acceptance by subject populations compared to the feasible alternatives.  The ‘preservers’, ‘facilitators’ and ‘collaborators’ of colonialism, as Abernethy shows, far outnumbered the ‘resisters’ at least until very late:  ‘Imperial expansion was frequently the result not just of European push but also of indigenous pull’.

The legacy of colonization appears even today – those areas that were colonies of the British Empire are freer and have lower levels of corruption than those that weren’t colonized by Britain.  Why?  Perhaps the colonies offered rule of law versus tribal vengeance.  Perhaps the colonizers offered science, medicine, and education.  Perhaps the liberty of Western Civilization was fascinating.  Me?  I’m betting that it was mail-order catalogs that were filled with pictures of lacey undergarments, or maybe the taxation system.

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We’ll apologize for colonies after they give up the Internet.

But the relics of de-colonization were also pretty clear.  This is one additional case Gilley makes.  In Gunea-Bissau, 25,000 people were killed as colonialism ended.  150,000 were displaced – all from a starting population of only 600,000.  Thankfully, Marxists took over and turned it into a worker’s paradise, dropping rice production from 182,000 tons per year to 80,000 tons per year.  No more tedious time spending cooking and eating!  That Marxist diet plan always works, and thankfully the government feels so much love for their people that they provide a secret police, too!  Gilley notes that at least half of the nations that de-colonized during the twentieth century had similar success at eliminating pesky excess food supply and pesky excess population.

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I don’t think that colonization was all party and no hangover.  There are plenty of descriptions of older colonial atrocities, especially when you go back to the 1700’s or 1800’s – the Belgian Congo under King Leopold was one very notable horror show so that the Belgium government took it away from him in 1908 prior to giving the Congo full independence in 1960, yet, today (from no less than The Daily Beast):

Wembore calls life under Belgians “très bon,” despite the segregation, and many of Stanleyville’s residents agree. “I look at the river, I used to see speedboats; now I see wooden boats,” he says, gesturing to the long, roughly carved canoes on the Congo River filled with traders. “This is poverty.”

So Gilley has confirmation from at least some Congolese that being colonized wasn’t all bad.

That doesn’t stop his University from “investigating” him.  You can read about it in this article, but it doesn’t say much (LINK).  Since he still has a web page up, and is still publishing papers that specifically poke the finger in the eye of academia (like this one on how Yemen did much better as a colony (LINK) and this one about how non-leftists are treated in academia (LINK)), I think he probably came out okay.

The question of colonialism remains.  I tend to think that colonization can help a nation, especially if it brings about the systems that allow for efficient administration of a free country and gives the people faith that those systems can work.  None of this happens in a short period of time, and it’s susceptible to corruption and tribalism.  But we simply have to have colonies in the future.  Why?

If we don’t we’ll never get Colonial Marines.

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Okay, true fact, Vasquez in Aliens® is John Connor’s™ step-mom in Terminator 2©.

Addendum:  Per the Comments.

newcalifornia

With Personal Seal:

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Dealing With Children In The Idiot Zone

“They are contemptuous of authority, convinced that they are superior. Typical adolescent behavior, for any species.” – Star Trek:  Voyager

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Okay, I couldn’t resist that one.  If I were a lawyer I’d never pass a bar.

The Mrs. used to watch several reality shows, one of which was Intervention.  If you hadn’t seen it, a drug or alcohol addict is followed around for several days by a film crew.  Why they let them follow them around while they drink (in one case) five liters of vodka a day, every day, is a mystery.  My bet is that they don’t make many good decisions, so inviting a camera crew to watch and record as their personal misery unfolds is just another bad day, just another bad decision.

I have never felt like less of an addict after watching that show.  To put it mildly, those people had problems.

intervention

Now I see where Intervention got the idea.

At the end of each episode, family members and friends ambush the addict with an intervention, where people who love the addict gang up on them in a room and offer a choice:  go to rehab or get cut out of their lives.  Most chose rehab.  On the follow ups, most of the rehabs failed.

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I have to be fair.

After a while it became clear – the stories weren’t all the same, but each one rhymed with the others.  And I noticed one particular facet of almost all of the stories that was the same:  intense trauma of some type on the addict when they were between the ages of 11 and 14, which I call by its scientific name:  The Idiot Zone.  Again and again horrible things happened.  Parents divorced.  A parent died.  Something else that was dramatic happened.

I have theories about most everything, and my theory on this one is that middle school kids are awful, horrible people, probably the worst people on Earth, which makes me wish that we could just abandon them in a forest for four years.

Why does the Idiot Zone exist?  Middle-schoolers have developed feelings.  They have learned to be mean.  They just haven’t learned either empathy or how to be nice.  If I were to pick a crucial age range for character development (and development of virtue!) I’d pick ages 11 to 14.  Having a parent to model for character is crucial.

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Screw this test up as a parent, and you’ve lost your last major chance to influence them.  After that, you lessen as an influence every day.

Everybody’s kids do stupid things – The Boy and Pugsley are no different.  I specifically don’t give out much information about my sons, and nearly none of it is negative because these words will live on long after they’ve moved to make their own way in the world.  That’s okay.  I make plenty of mistakes to keep the Internet entertained.

But Pugsley is now in the Idiot Zone, and he and I have been on an escalating aggression trend for several weeks.  It’s a long game, and I’m older than he is and I can hold out forever to get a win.  And I will get a win.  But today I had an idea.  I looked him in the eye when I got home from work.

“I have decided what I’m giving up for Lent, Pugsley.  I am giving up anger.  I’m not going to get mad at you for the next 38 days.  No matter what.  Like that idea?”

He nodded.

In looking up Lent and the history of fasting, I read a story of a seminary student who didn’t select what he gave up for Lent – his roommates did that for him.  I decided that was good enough for Pugsley.

“In return, you’re going to give up _______ and _______.”  You can fill in the blanks with minor character faults.  You could even do a Madlib®:  “being an idiot” and “not bathing after rolling in three week old rotting deer carcass”

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Okay, they weren’t that bad, and he’s not a dog.  He rightly responded, “You know, Dad, we’re not Catholic.”

My rejoinder:  “Well, you could be.  I hear you get a pretty white dress on your confirmation.  Also, be careful.  If a Catholic bites you, you rise from the dead and become one.”  The Mrs. and I had considered becoming Catholic, but didn’t – the sheer amount of paperwork was huge, and I was told the written approval of the Pope himself would be required, given that I had previously been married to a shape-shifting she-demon.

He was obviously not amused by the confirmation dress comment and, in best adolescent form, ignored it entirely.    Pugsley is also going to Catholic school, and getting an “A” in religion so he fully understood that Lent was the period from Ash Wednesday lasting until Easter.  I continued, “Besides, giving up being a _______ and ________ would be good for you.”  And it would be good for the rest of the family, too.  Nobody likes living with a ______head.  And Pugsley has been a real royal _____head recently.

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I’m not sure Pugsley believed me when I said I was going to not get angry no matter what.  Consciously or subconsciously, he tried to push every one of my buttons this afternoon.  He knew very well which behaviors of his drove me nuts.  And in the span of fifteen minutes tried them all.

I didn’t get angry, not even inside.  Finally, when he saw that no matter what he did I wouldn’t react he became emotional.  He discovered it’s tough to have a fight when the other side just won’t escalate.

I’ve long felt that perhaps the only thing we entirely control as humans is the way we feel about things.  People or the government can take away my guns.  My vast fortune.  Sedation dentistry.  Stately Wilder Manor.  All those material things can be taken away.

However, no one can take away my thoughts.  I can choose not to be angry, which may also explain why I don’t listen to NPR® on the way to work.  My feelings are my choice.  Pugsley will figure that his feelings are his choice, too, and when that happens?  I’ve won.

This is a health post, what with it being Friday.  Giving up anger isn’t the only thing I’m giving up for Lent, but it’s a big one, and there are tons of health reasons why not being angry at Pugsley will make me healthier – lower stress, I won’t be hoarse from yelling, but the negative is that my home state will no longer be to exploit my blood pressure as a renewable energy resource providing 54 megawatts of power.

I am religious, but even if you aren’t, I think the practice of giving up things has value.  I rarely drive my favorite car.  Why?  Because if I drive it every day it loses its magic.  Giving up pleasures for a time makes us stronger, and makes the pleasure that much better when you finally get to experience it again.

I am so going to enjoy becoming enraged on Easter.  I might yell and scream for days.