Category: Elon Musk Week

The Virtue Of Being Unreasonable

“I’m a reasonable guy, but I’ve just experienced some very unreasonable things.” – Jack Burton, Owner-Operator of the Pork Chop Express

I put some giant, big, huge, enormous bread in the toaster today.  I made synonym toast.

I remember hiking my first 14,000 foot (43 liters) mountain.  It was a spur-of-the-moment trip.  I grabbed two of my friends and off we went.  We intentionally spent the night above 12,000 feet (12 kilopascals).  The world above 12,000 feet (32 ergs) is strange, to say the least.  Water boils at a very low temperature due to the low atmospheric pressure and cools very quickly.  I’ll tell you – low atmospheric pressure certainly makes my blood boil.

The next day we finished the ascent as planned.  Also as planned, we decided to hike our way back out to the car.  We made our way back down, losing well over a mile in altitude, thankfully not all at once.  I had worn sneakers up the hill.  Those were perfectly fine for going up.  But when we started heading down from our camp, the bottoms of both feet started to feel a bit warm.

Some of you probably can guess where this is going.

After several more horizontal miles and several thousand more vertical feet, that warmth in my feet had turned into a blaze.  I looked forward to the creeks that cut through the trail, which provided cool water to cool my feed as we waded through.  It felt wonderful.

I met a moray that had been knighted.  Now that was Sir Eel.

I didn’t realize it then, but what was happening was with each downhill step I took, my foot slipped just a bit inside the sneaker.  Just a bit.  That slipping of foot against the inside of the shoe generated friction.  That friction was multiplied by thousands of downhill steps.  The primary location that friction showed up?

The soles of my feet.

Finally, we made the Jeep® that my friend had borrowed for the trip.  I peeled off my shoes when I got in the back.  The sole of each foot was covered in a single, large blister from heel to where the toes start.

One friend asked, “Why didn’t you have us carry your pack?”

My response?  “I carried it up.  I’ll be damned if I wasn’t going to carry it down.

Hey, don’t laugh at those shoes – ATF agents have to wear those every day.

Certainly, that was more foolish than heroic.  I had in my mind that I wasn’t going to shirk my responsibility to someone else.  It certainly wasn’t a reasonable idea, but that’s okay.

Change isn’t made by reasonable people.  Real accomplishments are made only by people who are fanatics.

Of course, this doesn’t apply to the weekly trip to the grocery store:  being Mad Max in the aisles is probably counterproductive.  But when working on trying to accomplish something significant, being reasonable has to go right out the window.

On the other hand, given how Biden has messed things up, this might be what shopping looks like this summer.

I was talking with Pugsley about diet (last week’s post was a taste of the conversation).  The Mrs. overheard the conversation.  “Ahhh, your dad has a case of the TB – True Believer.”  She paused, “Pugsley, if you’re ever around someone who used to smoke, it’s the same thing.”

And she is right.  Quitting smoking is hard.  Nicotine is highly addictive, and quitting, once started isn’t a reasonable thing.  It requires willpower.  And, like Mark Twain said, “Willpower lasts about two weeks, and it’s soluble in alcohol.”

It’s so very hard to quit tobacco that it often takes several tries – I know, I did it.  So, to finally quit takes fanaticism.  This is, in the end, the same sort of fanaticism that it takes for any significant change.  It’s the same sort of drive that makes Elon push SpaceX®.  It’s the same sort of drive that the Founding Fathers had when they forged a new nation.

Elon Musk is a bully.  He beat up NASA and took their launch money.

It’s the same drive that creates great teams.  Once people buy into the vision of what can be created, they give of themselves to further the vision.  If the goal is big enough and important enough people ignore their sense of self.  That’s when the magic happens.

Not only do we get amazing things done, we don’t really care who gets the credit.  Big goals create big teams, dedicated teams.  They come together and work towards success.  Do they always win?  Certainly not.  Sometimes the biggest goals are tackled by amazing teams and the team fails.

But not as often as you might think.  Let’s look at the difference between NASA and SpaceX®.  When NASA and SpaceX™ started working on a project together, NASA freaked out.  Why?  SpaceX© was going too fast.  They were achieving in a month things that would take NASA a year.

Although NASA still has people driven to get man into space, there aren’t many.  Most just want to keep a job until the Federal pension kicks in.  SpaceX™ just wants to get people into space, and it’s pounded into them daily.  The difference is a vision.  In the 1960s, NASA had both a vision and some particularly talented scientists that had some rocketry experience from previous jobs.  They achieved one of the most amazing feats that humanity has every accomplished.

Why do wolves howl at the Moon?  They don’t have cell phones.

Vision and fanaticism matter.  And they’re good things when the vision is good.  When the vision is dark, that fanaticism is dangerous.

I’ll change gears from outstanding feats back to my feets.  The blisters (one per foot)came off, and most of the fresh skin underneath was exposed.  It stung.  For a while.  A day later?  It was like nothing had happened.

Something did happen, though.  I climbed a really tall mountain.  Did I accomplish the goal?  Certainly.  And I was completely unreasonable in the way I went about it.  The good news?  You can be unreasonable, too.  Because if life is a hike, it’s only done at the end.  And to accomplish things?

Sometimes you have to do something unreasonable.

Human Chow: It’s What’s For Dinner

“Bachelor Chow™ . . . now with flavor.” – Futurama

I heard that it was projected that the next Muslim country to have nukes is going to be France.

It’s no surprise to anyone that the biggest health problem in 2022 isn’t the ‘Rona, it’s people who are overweight.  I’d imagine that most of you have seen the .gif that shows state after state with an increasing Body Mass Index (BMI) over time.  I just checked my BMI, and according to the chart I have to grow at least five more inches.

Part of my question as I’ve seen this epidemic unfold has been, why?  It’s not like the people in the United States suddenly lost willpower started consuming crap for no reason, though that would explain the popularity of Friends.  Although I think there are several other significant causes I think one of the biggest has been the rise of ultraprocessed foods.

Most foods (for all of my life) have been processed to some degree.  Ma Wilder didn’t feed us raw wheat – nope.  She used white flour in cooking and baking bread since mass-produced flour was cheap and lasted in the cabinet forever.  Ma Wilder told me that, since I was adopted, I would have to eat bread only from self-raising flour.

What’s the difference between Nic Cage and someone allergic to wheat?  Nic would never turn down a roll.

Processing of flour from wheat changes not only the nutrient profile – it pulled out the parts of the wheat kernel that don’t store well as flour – but it also changed how it acts when eaten.  An example:  wheat flour is made into the familiar powder that we’re used to.  This makes it easier to store and ship.  It also makes it pretty tasty.

The final thing I want to mention about flour is that mashing wheat up into a powder changes how quickly I’ll get to use the nutrients of the flour when I eat it.

Let me explain:

If I ate just a plain wheat kernel, I’d be able to digest most of it, but it would take hours of time and energy.  If I eat a piece of tasty, tasty bread, it’s available for use nearly immediately.

Especially the carbs.  I’ll save insulin discussion for a later post, but ultraprocessed foods have an amazing impact on insulin production.

And the physical form of the food can also make people fatter.  When rats were given (I assume) Rat Chow®, some bored grad student came up with the idea of feeding some rats plain Rat Chow©.  The other rats, however, they smashed up the Rat Chow™ into a powder.

Like I said, bored grad students.  Possibly drunk.

What’s the difference between rat poison and Diet Coke®?  Diet Coke™ has better advertising.

What happened?  The rats with the powdered food got fat and the rats that ate the “plain” food didn’t, even though both groups of rats were eating the same amount of calories.  The change in form changed the way the food acted in the rats – it made the nutrients available more quickly, which (again, because of insulin) made the rats fat.

Heck, it’s not even just the flour and powdered rat food.

An even bigger bomb to the body is sugar.  Sugar was once very uncommon as human food.  Our ancestors got it from berries (not a lot, but some) and, when they could fight the bees back, from honey.

If I get diabetes, will that make me a sugar daddy?

Domestication and widespread production of sugar didn’t occur until the folks in India figured it out in the early Anno Domini centuries (note to Zoomers, this was before the Internet).  They figured out how to take the juices from sugar cane (which can’t be stored or shipped well) and turned it into granulated sugar, which could be saved forever, and shipped across continents.

But for most of human history, sugar was wickedly expensive, and only the wealthy could afford to have it regularly.  Now?  I can buy granulated sugar for $0.50 per pound.  Sugar prices are going up, sure, but I can buy a wholesale ton of sugar for less than $500.

The next category of foods that just weren’t available to humans were vegetable oils.  I’m not talking about olive oil which is pressed and can be used just as it comes off the press – I’m talking about corn oils, canola oils, soybean oils.  As produced in modern times, these are really chemical products that depend on chemical processes to make them usable.

Their history has been slippery.  Transfats – or fats that were unsaturated after being subjected to chemical processing, were supposed to be healthier than butter.  We were told so.  Now it turns out that they increased the risk of heart attacks.  Oops.  Now, instead of being promoted by the government, they’re illegal to put in food.  And butter is now good for you.

The main thing about these processed foods is that they are cheap to make.  Some combination of flours oils, sugars, and . . . well, let’s take a look at the Totino’s® Pizza Roll ingredient list:

What’s the difference between a bag of pizza rolls and a musician?  A bag of pizza rolls can feed a family.

It’s an amazing list of chemicals.  I just really hesitate to call it food, however.  It’s what the word ultraprocessed was made to describe.  I was watching a video by Dr. Pradip Jamnadas (cardiologist, and I do recommend his YouTube® vidyas) and he had a word that was even more descriptive for foods like this:  pre-digested.

A lot of the work that our wonderfully designed digestive system goes through to get energy out of food is simply not necessary with Totino’s© Human Chow Pizza Rolls.  In large part the food is designed to hit the digestive system, and flood the body with calories, ringing the dopamine bell in the brain.

I really do think they’re tasty.  I don’t plan on eating them except on very rare occasions, because when I look at the label now, I don’t see what looks like . . . food.  It looks like Elon Musk’s shopping list for when he’s trying to create artificial life.

But the real purpose of this is to sell as many Totino’s® Pizza Rolls as possible and make the greatest profit.  This leads to one question that illustrates an overlap between libertarianism and communism:  “How much sawdust can I put in the food?”

On my diet I can have a libertarian salad:  lettuce alone.

To a certain extent, these ultraprocessed foods have succeeded admirably.  They’ve allowed cheap ingredients (often made from low-value byproducts) to feed millions of people at a reasonable cost.  The problem, though, are the consequences that we see now:  the calories taken in impact the human system in vastly different ways than the food that we were designed to consume.

So, my plan is to eat as close to real food as possible – meat, fish, eggs, and whole veggies.

And, yes, an occasional pizza roll, too.

Pirates, Rail Looters, Fed Looters, And Bikini Economics

“Pirate Ghost would suggest that a pirate died and became a ghost, but a Ghost Pirate is a ghost that later made a conscious decision to be a pirate.” – South Park

What decongestant does the Federal Reserve© ban?  Sudafed™.

Most of the time when a train story hits the news, it involves the comically overloaded trains in India.  The typical headline in a newspaper (back when those existed) was on page 7, and went something like this:  Train Derails In India, 471,320 Dead.  The news story was typically right near, “Local Cat Makes Good!”

It’s been a while since I saw much about trains in the news.  Imagine my interest when I found out that people were hopping on trains in Los Angeles (Translation From Spanish:  Tarp City) and looting them.  What the Corsairs from Compton Boulevard are looking for is . . . merch.  Amazon® packages.  Best Buy™.  Nike©.

If Amazon® delivered by drone, for these folks that would just be skeet shooting, with prizes.

It’s really piracy on the rails.  Mobs attack the slow-moving trains and proceed to loot them.  They’ll load up on televisions and laptops and video game systems and almost everything that you can order online.  Except for books.  And, probably, work boots.

The fact that this is tolerated is a symptom that Los Angeles is now, officially, the Somalia of the West Coast.  There appears to be no effort to stop the mob, and no effort to arrest any participant.  Recent news reports would indicate that an ax-murderer, after arrest, would be given his (oops, California!) xir ax back after getting booked and not even have to post bail.

But try to smuggle a plastic straw in?  It’s off to Workers Leisure and Re-Education Camp #495 for you.

When you think about it, using a straw is just like snorkeling in reverse.

The fact that land pirates are actually a thing in 2022 means that, in Los Angeles at least, the rule of law has broken down completely in areas.  Thankfully, that hasn’t translated to other parts of the country, right?

Well, about the Federal Reserve® . . .

It’s not as if the Fed™ governors have been caught in a scandal where they unethically traded stocks.  Oh, they have?  Dallas Fed© President Robert Kaplan and Boston Fed™ President Eric Rosengren and Fed® Vice-Chairman Richard Clarida all resigned in disgrace after trading based on future Fed© decisions that hadn’t been made public?

Say it isn’t so!  Oh, wait, it’s completely so.  Apparently, the Fed© treats their “management” of fiscal policy just as seriously as the Watts Porch Pirates treat their “management” of Amazon® freight logistics.

Well, at least they’ve done well with the economy, preserving the purchasing power of money over time, right?

Of course . . . not.

I’d point out how bad this graph is, but somehow I don’t feel as sad with this one.

In reality, monetary policy since the Fed™ started has been to make your cash worthless, over time.  You can see what a great job they’ve done since 2000.  In effect, the Fed© has been in your bank account, robbing it bit by bit, just like the Hollywood Buccaneers have been boosting freight out of the train yard.  They just leave a bit less trash.

But certainly, they’ve been operating now as a sober bunch.

Ha!

No!  They’ve taken every Fed® interest rate record since 1955 and smashed it!  They are, absolutely provably, so drunk on Jack Daniels® that they can’t feel their collective jaws.  They are knee-walking, porcelain-grabbing drunk.

Wolfstreet.com called them . . . The Most Reckless Fed® Ever.  (LINK)

They put together a nice graph (below) that shows that if you take the Fed™ funds rate (what they charge to borrow money) and subtract inflation, we’re at a LIFETIME level of irresponsibility.  The Quantitative Easing (ahem, helicopter cash) and Stimulus Bills (ahem, more helicopter cash) have pushed inflation up.

The reckless bit is on the right.  No, farther right.  Yes, farther. 

So, all of the “Fight for $15” folks are quiet now, because whatever the minimum wage is, $15 is attainable doing temp work.  Everyone not making big bucks?  Inflation is eating the raises of most people.  So who’s winning?  I mean, besides the insider traders at the Fed™?

People who own stuff.  Inflation makes cash worth less, and eventually worthless.  Owning things makes sense in a world where cash is becoming worthless.  Who owns things?  Rich people.  They’ve done very, very well.  Why is Tesla®, which made 936,000 cars last year, has a market cap of $1.1 trillion dollars.  Doing the math . . . that has Tesla© worth $1,175,214 . . . per car they made.

Huh?  Honestly, it’s not a stock:  it’s a meme.

I guess people have to buy something.  Notice that Elon himself was selling his stock to convert it to (temporarily) cash to convert it to . . . stuff.  Even the tax hit wasn’t enough to deter him – he might well have the biggest tax bill of any individual in history this year.

Why?  Do you sell a stock that you think is going to go up?  No.  You sell a meme.  And let’s not talk about how the Fed© has force-fed banks billions of dollars to prop them up and increase their profitability.

I hear he wears Space-Axe® body spray.

So, we have pirates looting railcars to take home blenders and game controllers.  We’re not stopping them.

We also have much, much bigger thieves – the Freebooters of the Fed™ who have done their very best to, first by inflation, then by recession, to drain trillions of dollars of savings of average Americans, and it doesn’t even get higher up in the newspaper than an Indian train accident.

Looks like the D.A. isn’t prosecuting these guys, either.  Guess they haven’t tried to smuggle any plastic straws . . . at least then they’d get sent to Workers Leisure and Re-Education Camp #495.

Predictions 2022: The Funniest Predictions You’ll See This Year

 

“Since when can weathermen predict the weather, let alone the future?” – Back to the Future

Hitmen sometimes make people tense.  Past tense.

Thankfully, by next week 2021 will be in the rear view mirror.  I’m hoping that 2022 will be better for everyone, but remember, when you say it, it sounds like 2020, too, so there is a chance that it will deteriorate faster into an incomprehensible disaster faster than a Joe Biden speech or a Hunter Biden crack weekend.  That being said, I managed to pull out the patented Wildervision™ Chronovisor 2000©, and have the following predictions for 2022.  Enjoy!

January

The big event will be the Supreme Court reviewing Joe Biden’s Federal mandates for “jabbing” people so that they can keep their jobs.  My prediction is this:  The Supreme Court (which is just regular court but with sour cream and tomatoes) will vote to uphold the mandate.  Here’s why:

All of the Leftist Supreme Court members plus John Roberts are all in favor of man-dates.  Justice Elena Kagan and Justice Sonia Sotomayor have not had man-dates in years, and are really aching for them and hope they are “hot.”  John Roberts approves of man-dates on principle, because, “love is love, or at least that’s how the NSA® tells me to vote.”

I suck at playing the trumpet, which is probably why.

The surprise swing vote will be Justice Amy Coney Island Barrett Browning.  She will twist her hair and indicate that, you know, with all of the lonely nights at the Supreme Court, “well, a Justice has needs, needs mind you for a man-date.”

In a surprise move, Justice Clarence Thomas will assume his final form (The Thomas-Hulk) and throw the man-date approving justices into an orbit where they come close to touching the Sun.  It’s really cool.  His robes split open and everything.

The orbiting Justices will still not be as hot as Dead Justice Ginsburg, who still can’t get the sulfur smell out of her robes.  The Justices will return and try to form The Justice League©, but be sued by Warner Brothers®.

February

The groundhog in Minsk will see his shadow, which means that it will only be six weeks of offensive required for the Russians to take over the tasty bits of Ukraine that they want.  When confronted by NATO, Vladimir Putin replies, “Oh, Crimea river,” while riding a bear equipped with hypersonic nuclear missiles through a forest on his way to invent a sport-utility vehicle made from combining a T-72 tank undercarriage combined with a Holiday Inn Express®, which used 458 gallons of diesel per mile.

When all you have is 45,000 tanks, every problem looks like a problem a tank would solve.  Which is (honestly) almost every problem, ever.

Also, Bill Belichick’s Tom Brady Clone© defeats Tom Brady in Superbowl LVII™.  Belichick’s postgame comments are short, merely noting that he has seven thousand Tom Brady clones and is planning on living forever in a volcanic island somewhere in the Pacific with seven thousand hot, sweaty Tom Brady clones.

March

COVID variant “eeny, meeny, miny, moe” appears in Australia.  As there were no tigers available, there are no infections.  Australian lawmakers are incensed, as they had planned to charge all “unjabbed” infected $50 (Australian dollars) every day when they put them into concentration leisure camps.  As $50 Australian is only enough for one Chicken McNugget™, it is estimated that the lack of tigers cost Australia up to seven Happy Meals®.

The Australians kidnap Harvard™ students to fill the concentration leisure camps, having them fight off against vegetarian Cross-Fit™ enthusiasts every week in cage matches to see who is the most annoying.

Reprinted with permission.

Also:  Russia increases natural gas prices to France.  France surrenders.  Russia fails to accept surrender, noting the number of berets, cigarettes, and baguettes of bread required could not be supported by the Soviet Russian economy and that they cannot make as many burkas as are required by France.

April

The Sun emits the largest solar flare since the 1859 Carrington Event, but damage is focused around Detroit and Chicago in the American Midwest.  The event destroys the electrical grid and moves both Detroit and Chicago into Stone Age conditions.  It is estimated that the Stone Age conditions are so much better than what was there, that over $15 billion in improvements have been made.

May

Bill Gates declares, “The War on COVID is over!  We have defeated the dread ‘Rona!”  The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation© announces it has a new focus, getting Bill hot girlfriends in their early twenties.  The new plan is The Gates’ Dates Initiative™.

Bill happily announces it, “If you don’t offer up your attractive daughters to me, remember:  I have been working on smallpox and anthrax and lots of other diseases that end in ‘x’ and can ruin you all!”  Jeff Bezos announces that he is “all-in” providing that Gates will allow the tandem initiative, “Bimbos for Bezos®”.

How can you tell Gates released COVID?  Just like Windows®, every month there’s an updated version that installs itself automatically without your permission.

Both Gates and Bezos are proud to announce that they have hired O.J. Simpson as their security coordinator, noting that “O.J. will allegedly take a stab at any problem we have.”

June

The Federal Reserve™ announces that inflation of more than 20% per month is “mostly solved” and that they plan to stop printing money and giving it to banks “just as soon as we run out our intense desire for piles of cocaine and attractive hookers.”

My name is Jerome Powell.  Say hello to my little friend, infinite money printing.

Donald Trump emerges from Florida to note, “My vaccine is the best vaccine.  I bathe in it.  Those who have avoided it?  Sad.  Sometimes, when I’m bored?  I inject it into my eyes.  And I have the best eyesight.  Perfect.”

Also, it’s “blah blah blah, Black Lives Matter© riots, billions in damage, hundreds dead, for some reason everyone but Black Lives Matter® people are to blame” season.

July

Joe Biden has regressed to the point where coherent speech now eludes him.  “Jo-jo gotta go-go now anna maka doodie INNNA SINK,” “ICE CREAM YABBA,” and “The need to increase illegal immigrants and social program spending” are now the topics of his increasingly deranged addresses to the American people.

Kamala Harris responds, “Ha ha ha!  You know (ha) Joe!  He’s (ha) always being (ha) Joe!”  An ABC News© poll places Biden in a heated competition with houseplants and ice cubes for “most coherent political speech” of 2022.

August

Crowds of Pfizer®-jabbed Americans now have been reported to have developed, “An insatiable appetite for human blood – the untainted blood of those not exposed to the COVID jabs.”  Anthony Fauci insists, “This is a completely normal side effect.  You expect people whose DNA has been modified by a largely untested agent to want to drink massive amounts of human blood in a vain attempt to make themselves normal again.  Which is, normal.  Wear a mask or six.”

Not mine.  I’m sad they didn’t mention vampirism.

Other noted and “completely expected” side effects of the “jab”, according to Fauci, include:  death, inability to cast a reflection in a mirror, extreme intolerance of sunshine, and the ability to turn into a Wuhan bat and fly large distances.  The unvaccinated are apparently to blame.

September

Skipped.  I’m pretty sure the United Nations outlaws it or something.

October

The Harvest Moon is upon ye!  Beware!  The veil between this world and the next is thinnest here.  There are times when ye cannot ken the vast forces that an uncaring cosmos has coalesced into beings that exist in the deep and dark space beyond the stars, where even light cannae go!

These beings walk, caring only in your obedience and worship as their corrupted thoughts infect all of spacetime and begin to slowly chip away at your everyday reality, making you doubt in your very sanity.  They seek only the vast amounts of power that they can siphon from your suffering, and would gladly make your existence from here to the last energy available in the universe is spent one of agony that they can feed on.

H.P. Lovecraft wrote a cookbook, the Necronomnomnomicon.

Also, it’s October so make sure you change out your smoke detector batteries and don’t forget to go see the latest Disney® movies!

November

The Democrats lose all of their seats in the House of Representatives (except for the seats from California and New York City) as their mid-term strategy of “Appease the Great Horrific Beasts from Beyond the Cosmos Through Your Eternal Suffering” strategy (mostly) backfires.  Nancy Pelosi is outed as a trans-dimensional demon that sucks the souls of the unborn for immortal life, and gains three points in her latest election.

Democrats claim that they will pass laws so that psychics will be allowed to fill in ballots for “people who thought about voting but were too lazy to actually vote,” because “every thought about voting matters.”

December

December is filled with surprises:

  • Elon Musk announces he has created a time machine. His stated goal is to use it to go back and, “nail Farrah Fawcett when she was really hot.  And alive.  Or at least really hot.”

Yeah, I know, this joke has been done to death.

  • Wilder, Wealthy and Wise© author John Wilder is Time Magazine’s® Man of the Year for being so very awesome, funny, and predicting the “whole vaccinated are now vampires that can only be killed by making them sign up for time-share condominiums” plague.
  • Donald Trump begins selling time-share condominiums, noting, “these are the best condominiums ever. You’re sure it kills them, you know, the vampires, right?”  No one reminds him Trump is a vampire.  Trump buys six condominiums, after asking Musk if can do anything about Natalie Wood.
  • China announces that their relationship with Taiwan is over. “You know Taiwan, it wasn’t you, it was me.  Cheer up.  I’m sure you’ll find someone.  There are lots of great hegemonies out there.”
  • Justice Clarence Hulk-Thomas begins his Justice Tour, and announces, “If I come down your chimney, you’d better pray.”
  • Hollywood announces that they are ready to make the first biopic of Joe Biden, “Ima maka dudie,” starring Ron Perlman as Biden.

Joe Biden’s Early Christmas Gift To The Right

“Well, you know, anything could happen. You could get run over, pickpocketed, . . . fall down a manhole, bump into people, murdered . . . imagine that. Or even just ridiculed.” – Flight of the Conchords

Bruce Lee had a son other than Brandon.  This son was a famous vegetarian:  Brock.

I’m betting that most of you saw the vidya of Alzheimer in Chief Brandon Biden taking a call from a parent about the tracking of Santa by NORAD.  At the end of the call, the parent says “Merry Christmas, and let’s go Brandon.”  You can watch it here (LINK).

Biden responds with an enthusiastic, “Let’s go Brandon!  I agree!”  The look on Jill’s face is priceless, like she had just eaten a tuna fish sandwich that had been fermenting under Joe’s butt for six days.  I know that Jill told the Secret Service to not let Joe sit on them that long, but to quote Joe, “They’re just so creamy and feel so good and cool on my buttocks and make my skin so supple.”

Immediately, the Leftist Twittersphere™ erupted with all of the impotent rage of a six-year-old that’s not allowed to sit at the grownup table during Christmas dinner.  A classic response is from the harpy known as Sarah Reese Jones.  Here is her Tweet™, which I have not seen on her Twitter© feed, and may have been deleted because it was so insipidly stupid.  I’ve seen it elsewhere, but if Sarah asks me to pull it down because it’s fake, I will.  She made plenty of other comments that are still up there that I can pull from.

Sarah would make her Tweets® longer, but she ran out of character.

The salt to be mined from Leftist tears could make anyone a millionaire, and it looks like Sarah needs it.  Whereas I have no idea if she’s had “work” done on her face, it looks like it has a higher composite chemical content than the re-entry surfaces on an Elon Musk spacecraft.

Yes, it’s a personal attack.  I sort of feel bad because I think my readership is higher than hers.  I know I look a lot less like Steven Tyler’s illegitimate child.

Why did the Leftists react so strongly to these bad jokes?  I know that my readers react to my bad jokes like Hawaiians:  A low ha.

I know that there are several things that drove instant hate to this exchange:

  1. It exposed the media’s attempt to cover up the way people felt. Let’s remember where “Let’s go Brandon” started – with a television host attempting to cover up a crowd of thousands of people saying “f**k Joe Biden.”  The clumsy cover-up caught fire, precisely because it was one of the most blatant lies of the year, outside of “Biden won the election.”
  2. It exposed that this never happened to Trump. The media routinely had him under a microscope, looking for every single thing that could be used against them.  In one instance, hundreds of stories showed up in the mainstream media that . . . Trump got one more scoop of ice cream than everyone else got.
  3. It exposed that Biden is either so insulated or so mentally lost in the fog of someone who probably could no longer qualify for a driver’s license that he would actually repeat a phrase that meant, “f**k me.” Either of these things is figurative poison for a politician.

NBC© did a pilot for a sitcom about Abe Lincoln, shot before a live audience.

  1. It exposed Biden to yet more mockery. This is right out of Saul Alinsky’s Rules for Radicals.  It’s Item 5:  “Ridicule is man’s most potent weapon.”
  2. The Left hates it when their playbook is used against them. They have to defuse it at any cost.  So, they either bury it (this segment is, I hear, already cut out of the transcript and official video) or attack it because it’s (according to them) inappropriate.
  3. The Left doesn’t actually even like Biden. He’s just the only guy that they could keep hidden until the 2020 general election, drawing crowds of dozens to Trump’s crowds of thousands.  He was the gluten-free, peanut-free, bread of the Left.  It may be made from sawdust, but at least it doesn’t offend anyone.

The irony was palpable:  the same people that had made a (not so) huge balloon made of Trump in a diaper were all twisted up about a phrase that no child would understand.  Of course, the tombstone for the Right (in the very unlikely chance we lose) will say “Imagine if it were reversed.”

To make this clear:  we don’t care because they don’t care.  The games that they play are just that, games.  The rules for civility are long gone.

To be fair, the biggest inflection point is either hot pants Clinton’s impeachment for perjury (which you could squarely blame on the GOP©) or George W’s election victory.  Both of those enraged the Left in a way that they’re not over today.   – they felt they had been robbed of their glorious forever lock on the halls of power, despite the fact that W had more in common with the Left than JFK ever did.  Me?  I think Alinsky killed them – and the Left has been playing for keeps.

Looks like someone made a measurement error when ordering the balloon that would “ToTaLLy oWn TrUmPz!”

“Let’s go, Brandon” had probably run its course.  It had gone on for months, and eventually, every joke (like Joe) gets old.  This probably gave it another month or three.  But it doesn’t end here.  There is more to come, and that’s what we must never, ever give up on.  We must mercilessly ridicule the Left at every chance.

Why?

  • First, they hate it, they cannot stand it, it makes them stupid with rage.
  • Second, it’s fun.
  • Third? The Left has to react.  And when they do, regardless of what they’ve taken over in society, the mass of the people will understand the foolishness we face.  They are power.  Speak Truth to them.  Ridicule them.  Have fun with it.

Sometimes, they do all the work for you.

Oh, and one more thing:

Let’s go, Brandon.

The Five Laws Of Human Stupidity

“Don’t call me stupid.”  – A Fish Called Wanda

I hear of you hold a pistol like that, you can hear the Rittenhouse.  Alternatively, this might be an Alec Baldwin gun safety video. 

Carlo M. Cipolla is a dead Italian economic historian.  So, not a dead economist, because we know that a dead economist was at least right one time.  I don’t know much about him, outside of:

He has ceased to be. He’s expired and gone to meet his maker.  He’s a stiff.  Bereft of life, he rests in peace.  If you hadn’t nailed him to the perch he’d be pushing up the daisies.  His metabolic processes are now history.  He’s off the twig.  He’s kicked the bucket, he’s shuffled off his mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleeding choir invisible.  This is an ex-economic historian!

Sorry, I went full Monty Python on you.  Never go full Python, unless of course, you’re pining for the fjords.

But, Dr. Cipolla is dead, as I think I have abundantly established.

About the only other thing besides his condition of demise is that Dr. Cipolla is most known for writing a goofy little essay called The Basic Laws of Human Stupidity.  He wrote this essay originally in 1976, which proves that he might have had time to meet Joe Biden before writing it.

What do you get when you cross an economist with the Godfather?  An offer you can’t understand.

Text in italics (and those in quotes) beyond this point are direct quotes from the former Dr. Cipolla, except the snarky things I say underneath the memes I have handcrafted in the Wilder Meme Lab.

The First Law:  Always and inevitably everyone underestimates the number of stupid individuals in circulation.

Tongue in cheek, Cipolla notes that “any numerical estimate would turn out to be an underestimate.”  So, it’s clear that there exists a nearly infinite and inexhaustible supply of stupidity in the Universe.  I have observed this in action:  I have been to the DMV.

The Second Law:  The probability that a certain person will be stupid is independent of any other characteristic of that person.  

Cipolla felt strongly that stupid people weren’t made stupid, they were born stupid.  And, just like the First Law would predict, they are numerous and everywhere.  They inhabit colleges (I think Harvard™ is full of them) the government, and the Pentagon.  Stupidity can also be found at McDonalds®, but that’s excusable.  If When someone is stupid at McDonalds©, an order gets screwed up and I get not a Sausage McMuffin® without the muffin, but just a warm muffin (this happened) at the price of a Sausage McMuffin©.

When someone is stupid at the Pentagon?  They get promoted after the cover-up.

It has also been my experience that if you ask the right questions and listen to the answers, it’s amazing where you will find intelligent people.  Just like there is no bound on where you will find stupid people, there is no bound on where you will find intelligent ones.

Roses are red, violets are blue; no one in Washington cares about you.

One personal example is that every time (not occasionally, but every time) I felt full of myself, soon enough an intelligent person from a place I’d least expect would correct me.  The lesson I learned?  Listen.  Ask questions.  Just as idiocy hides everywhere, gems of wisdom are often when you don’t expect.

Great stuff.  But what, exactly, is stupid?  That’s what the Third Law is for.

The Third (and Golden) Law:  A stupid person is a person who causes losses to another person or to a group of persons while himself deriving no gain and even possibly incurring losses.

The third law is what really caught my attention.  Here, Cipolla defines what stupid is – and this is an especially interesting definition:  a stupid person screws something up, and doesn’t get any benefit.  At all.  Here Cipolla constructs a chart to define it:

One of my girlfriends in high school was arrested for bank robbery.  She made out like a bandit.

Cipolla dices up the world into two parameters: do they help or hurt society, or do they help or hurt themselves?

Help Self, Help Society:  This is the quadrant that Cipolla reserves for the intelligent.  They end up creating a harmony where they help not only society, but end up helping themselves in the process.  Take the makers of PEZ®, for instance.  They make money by selling the sweet, sweet PEZ™, and society benefits, because, PEZ©.  In this instance it’s a win-win.  Society wins, and the makers of the product win.

These are the people that create the upward drive for society.  They make things better, and they make the people around them better, too.  This is SpaceX® Elon Musk.  He’s revolutionizing space transport and making it cheap to hit orbit ($25 a pound within 10 years???) while raking in piles of cash.

What next?  The helpless.  Helpless people, by Cipolla’s definition, are those that make bad deals.  The bad deals end up helping someone else (even society at large) but end up hurting the people making the deals.  Note:  this wouldn’t be people who help others and get joy from it – they’re getting a benefit.

The biggest group I can think of that represents the Helpless group in 2021 are Biden voters.  Man, I’m thinking they’d take that back if they could.

Joe Biden’s press staff is mainly women, I guess because he doesn’t have to pay them as much.

So, that’s two out of three.  That leaves most politicians bandits.  Bandits, according to Cipolla, come in two flavors.  The first is the net zero bandit.  A net zero bandit just takes $20 from one person and keeps it to spend on themselves.  Bernie Madoff and most conmen are net zero bandits.  They take money and then enjoy it themselves.  Society as a whole (outside of the trust and breaking the law things) isn’t hurt.

Bernie Madoff may make a lot of rich people angry, but he’s not going to create the fall of western civilization because his clients can’t afford to donate money to Harvard© so Harvard™ will let their third-rate children in.

The worst kind of bandits are the asymmetric (my term) bandits.  These bandits cause an outsized amount of trouble for a small gain for themselves.  I can’t think of any real-life examples, but what if some politicians subverted the monetary system just so they could buy votes for themselves while causing massive inflation?  Of course, something that crazy could never happen, right?

That, of course, leaves the subject of the essay:

Stupid People.

Most people do not act consistently. Under certain circumstances a given person acts intelligently and under different circumstances the same person will act helplessly. The only important exception to the rule is represented by the stupid people who normally show a strong proclivity toward perfect consistency in all fields of human endeavors.

Stupid people, Cipolla opines, are even more dangerous than bandits, because they screw everything up.  Stupid people take wonderful ideas, destroy them, and then hurt themselves in the process.  They’re the equivalent of a six-year-old sticking a knife in a toaster and getting knocked out, and then doing it again.  Repeatedly.

Think of it as evolution in action . . .

Again, from Cipolla:

Essentially stupid people are dangerous and damaging because reasonable people find it difficult to imagine and understand unreasonable behavior. An intelligent person may understand the logic of a bandit. The bandit’s actions follow a pattern of rationality: nasty rationality, if you like, but still rationality. The bandit wants a plus on his account. Since he is not intelligent enough to devise ways of obtaining the plus as well as providing you with a plus, he will produce his plus by causing a minus to appear on your account. All this is bad, but it is rational and if you are rational you can predict it. You can foresee a bandit’s actions, his nasty maneuvers and ugly aspirations and often can build up your defenses.

With a stupid person all this is absolutely impossible as explained by the Third Basic Law. A stupid creature will harass you for no reason, for no advantage, without any plan or scheme and at the most improbable times and places. You have no rational way of telling if and when and how and why the stupid creature attacks. When confronted with a stupid individual you are completely at his mercy.

And because there’s no rationality to the attack it’s impossible to defend.  How do you defend against a naked person covered in sex lube attacking you with a rubber chicken?  No, really, how do you do that?  I don’t ever want to be in that place again.

This takes us to . . .

The Fourth Law:  Non-stupid people always underestimate the damaging power of stupid individuals. In particular non-stupid people constantly forget that at all times and places and under any circumstances to deal and/or associate with stupid people always turns out to be a costly mistake.

This should be called the Rittenhouse Law.

Kyle was attempting to help society.  And, perhaps he did because I don’t think the world is a worse place off after he was done, but stupid people managed to ruin his night.

And, remember that stupid people vote.

Stupid that night, stupid on the stand.

The Fifth Law:  A stupid person is the most dangerous type of person.  Corollary:  A stupid person is more dangerous than a bandit.

Here is where Dr. Cipolla might have lost me, but only because, perhaps, he never imagined that bandits could operate on the scale that they do in 2021.  What if you could steal from everyone at once?  Just print money, and you can.

What if you could get yourself two (or six!) more years at a job in Washington, D.C. and all you had to do was bankrupt the country?  That’s banditry that, perhaps, aspires to stupidity.  The end of the system will end up being the end of their banditry.

See?  Stupid.  So, maybe he was right after all?

The Funniest Tax Post You’ll Read Today

“Hey, I gotta uncle that lives in Taxes.” – Duck Soup

They just put in a new speed bump at Pugsley’s school.  I mean, I hope it was a speed bump.

What is a tax?

Most people think about taxes are money siphoned off from people and businesses.  Admittedly, the best kind of a tax would serve the public good, and also be in proportion to use of that public good.  A gasoline tax that’s used to fund the construction of roads certainly passes that muster.  The more a person drives, the more gas they use, and the more they pay.  Of course, it’s not perfect, but it’s hard to find a perfect tax.  However, from their perspective, the Taliban have created the perfect tax:  Americans pay, the Taliban get all the stuff.  We even deliver.

There are plenty of other things that function as a tax.

Unions function as a tax.  They take a market commodity, labor, and make it artificially scarce.  This increases the price.  In theory, unions can provide an assured level of labor quality, in stereotype they provide lowered profitability.  In practice, I’ve seen both.  Jeff Bezos is so against them that he got rid of his wife because someone told him marriage was a union.

Gameshows Jeff Bezos avoids:  Who Wants to be a Millionaire?

Child labor laws were instituted for the same reason – to lower labor competition.  Oh, sure, in 2021 we tell ourselves that it’s for the benefit of the children.  Keep in mind that when these laws originally went into effect, 10-year-olds were working 12 hour days in mills.  And those were the good jobs.  “Nippers” as they called them, were young boys handling explosives and getting into situations that were too dangerous for adult male miners.  So, you need a minor miner for major danger.

Child labor laws act like a tax.

The body of regulations that businesses face likewise act like taxes.  Some of them are pretty reasonable, but when OSHA named that new regulation after me?  That was tough – it was for wearing too much aftershave.  They called it a “fragrant breach of regulations.”

If you hold a hardhat up your ear, you can hear the OSHA.

Other regulations are just meant to bring prices up, like the 42 page standard that the USDA has for lemons, which specify that they all are within 6/16ths of an inch in diameter in any given box.  There are thousands of pages of regulations on fruits that cause many to be discarded.  I’m raisin awareness.  But regardless, it lowers the amount of fruit that farmers can sell and people can eat.

It’s a tax.

Bad taxes take money from one person and just give it to another.

There are certainly plenty of those schemes.  Based on its current productivity, NASA is just a wealth redistribution scheme.  It used to have a mission of getting people into space, but now apparently has the mission of (I kid you not) making braille books for blind kids about eclipses.  At least they’re better at making books than launching humans into space, since putting people into space is something they haven’t done in over a decade, and I’m willing to bet they won’t do for years.  But, hey, books for blind kids, right?  It’s a bad tax, but it’s just dysfunctional.

With NASA, the sky is the limit!  Because they can’t go higher than however high Southwest® 737s fly.

NASA isn’t alone, but if they’re dysfunctional, stuff just doesn’t happen and we have to wait for Elon Musk to rescue us.  What happens if people listen to government idiots and take them seriously?

Up until the ‘Rona hit, the CDC was pretty good about doing next to nothing – sending out silly warnings at Christmas about “don’t eat cookie dough” that absolutely every human worth talking to ignored.  The precursor to the CDC got rid of malaria.  Since then?  Everything they focus on gets worse.  So, the cookie dough thing was something they could do and not screw stuff up too badly.

Yes.  People are losing their jobs because liberals are taking the word of a government agency that would make eating raw cookie dough illegal if it could . . . seriously.  It’s the ultimate in government incompetence turning into a pure evil tax.

High energy prices are a tax as well.  They touch every physical item in the economy.  If it has to be moved, energy is what moves it.  It’s a tax on people who have to commute.  It’s a tax on people who have to eat.

Don’t ask for whom the Toll House tolls.  The Toll House tolls for you!

Shortages are a tax, too.  A shortage increases the cost by limiting supply.  But let’s look at the shortage of pickup trucks.  Why are they in short supply?  Because of a shortage of computer chips there are a limited number of trucks that can be made.  Does that make Ford® happy?  No.  The shortage tax doesn’t help them.  About the only people that the tax makes happy?

People who have extra cars to sell.

Finally, the ultimate tax:  inflation.  It’s a tax on every dollar you’ve ever saved, making it smaller, day by day.  The early effects of inflation make people happy (ish), if they have something to sell.  Inflation, though, always ends in tears.

High taxes result in lowered freedom.  In (almost) every case, the taxes don’t produce anything but envy.  As an example, historically low energy prices equate to higher freedom, and higher energy prices equate to lower freedom.  I’d extrapolate that to most of the other taxes I’ve mentioned above.

To make the opposite argument, the interstate highway system was made with taxes, but it is an anti-tax.  It lowered the cost of goods and services across the country and paid for itself many times over.  Let’s compare to the “war on poverty” where we’ve spent trillions, and taken exactly zero people out of poverty since the poverty rate was dropping before the “war on poverty” started.

I beat The Mrs. at Scrabble®.  Now she is sending me threatening letters.

You know, when the interstate highway system was just getting going?  Huh, I wonder why we didn’t build the Taliban one of those?  Well, Biden still has three more years.

Money Is Not The Only Form Of Wealth

“Well, as I said, time has no meaning here. So if you leave, you can go anywhere, any time.” – Star Trek:  Generations

What do you call a rogue sheep with a machine gun?  Lambo.

When I lived in Houston, my job was all consuming.  It’s been my theory that people move to Houston for one reason:  to work.  The climate is difficult.  The freeways are often lines of cars creeping along like Joe Biden in an elementary school.  One upside is that there can’t be a (Some) Black Lives Matter® protest because the Houston Astros© always steal their signs.

When I was a Temporary Texan, my life was consumed by work – and it was stressful work.  Each day brought a new crisis we had to solve.  It got so bad that   I left home early to avoid the traffic, so I got to work early.  I left work late to avoid the traffic, so I got home late.  A fourteen-hour day wasn’t uncommon.  I put blood, sweat, and tears into that job, so it was good that I wasn’t working at a restaurant.

The last time I went out for dinner, I asked the waiter how they prepared the chicken for frying.  “Nothing special.  We just tell them they’re going to die.”

For many weeks, I was gone every hour that baby Pugsley was awake during a weekday.  I would, however, catch up with The Mrs. when I got home.  That was a priority.  We knew what we were getting into when we made the move from Alaska.  Moving to Houston was, for us, entirely about work.  I should have known during the job interview that something was up:  they asked if I could perform under pressure, but I told them I only knew Bohemian Rhapsody.

Most (not all!) weekends I was able to keep the work at bay.  I’d sleep in on Saturday, and then we’d do something as a family.  By Saturday night I felt, “normal” but by Sunday afternoon I’d realize that I’d have to go back in to work on Monday and repeat the whole thing again.  That made me feel pretty gloomy – it felt like time was slipping away.

This was how Sunday evening felt when I worked in Houston.

One Sunday night, however, I was getting my things ready for the next day.  I was looking for my dress shoes (I was in an office that required them at that time) and couldn’t find them.  Since I always took them off at the same place, that confused me.

After looking in all the logical places, the only choice then was to look in all of the illogical places.  When you live alone, everything is pretty findable.  When you have a wife, things move around on their own.  When you have children under seven?  The toilet gets clogged with decorative clam shell soaps that The Mrs. bought.

So, when I found my shoes under Pugsley’s bed, I wasn’t really surprised.

I was, however, touched.  As near as we can figure, Pugsley had come to the conclusion that I only wore those shoes when I was gone all day.  As near as his Gerber®-addled mind could conceive, if I didn’t have the shoes, I could spend every day at home with him.

Not bad.  And I was touched.

I tried to buy running shoes the other day – but the only ones I saw were stationary.

One of the ideas of wealth is money.  And I was in Houston, like everyone else, to make money.

But there’s another idea of wealth:  time.

There are a group of people who are driven by playing that game and devote themselves exclusively to their business.  That makes sense.  The world needs people who are single-minded in wanting to change it.

Most people have read about people like Edison who never slept more than seven minutes a night and spent most of his life at work while making a fortune, and Elon Musk who famously slept in the factory to get car production worked out.  And Musk and Edison both have another thing in common:  they both got rich off of Tesla.

Meanwhile, the GPS is saying:  “Recalculating . . . recalculating . . . “

If that’s what they choose?  Fine.  The idea of spending time on their passion for business is exactly that – a choice.  Just like having a finite supply of money gives you a set of choices of what you can do in life, there is another budget – a finite number of hours.

And that is life.  Life is made up of those hours that we use.  Just as inflation eats away at the value of money, distraction eats away at the value of life.

What kind of distraction?

Well, pointless things – think Twitter® and most of Facebook™.  I was on Twitter© a while back, and found it was good at exactly one thing:  making me irritated.

I even take this aversion to not wasting the hours and minutes of my life unless it was a conscious decision to absurd levels.  For several years of my life, I ate something I didn’t like all that much for lunch because there was no line.

I hate the idea of waiting five minutes of my life when I don’t to.  This still applies even if I waste those five minutes on something unproductive.  For a long time, I avoided history – I just couldn’t see a future in it.

I’m reading a book about the history of lubricating oils and bearings.  Best non-friction book I’ve ever read.

But now society is built on creating and feeding distraction to people – the more distraction that’s consumed, the greater the profit level for these companies.  And these are not even distractions that make us feel better – but distractions that in many cases just consume time.

I’m not sure that the idea of a “balanced” life is one that exists in reality.  A human life is built up in phases.  The long languid summers of youth give up to days that are packed with all the trappings of a family and work and the fullness of life.  When my youngest, Pugsley, heads out into the world, who knows what I’ll do with the time?

Perhaps I’ll spend it finding places to hide his shoes.

The Alice Cooper Economy

“You want the solution to inflation? Hi, friends. Marshall Lucky here for New Deal Used Cars, where we’re lowering inflation not only by fighting high prices, not only by murdering high prices, but by blowing the living s**t out of high prices.” – Used Cars

I apologize – I didn’t mean to rehash a potato joke.

I had saved my money. It was near my birthday, and we finally went on a trip where I could spend it in the most elementary school way possible.

Living on Wilder Mountain, as I have noted before, we were a good 45 miles from the nearest movie theater. We were so remote, there was only one escalator (at the JCPenney’s®) within at least 120 miles of us. At that time, I think there was only one elevator (on a two-story building, no less) within the same range.

But on occasion, Ma and Pa would get a wild hair and we’d drive into a nearby largish city. What was large? More bars than churches. We only did that a few times a year, and I was excited. I stocked the backseat with comic books and off we went.

I took my few dollars ($10?) and bought a cassette. It was the first music purchase I had ever made with my own money. My music collection until that day consisted of three handmedown cassettes from my older brother, who for legal reasons I’ll call “John Wilder” since that’s his name, too. Turns out my parents got me in a poker game with a band of outlaw bikers. Their ante? An old Slim Jim® beef stick.

It was a rough day for them when they lost that hand.

Yes, this was one of the cassettes. I’ll never forget, “I’m leaving, on a small single engine plane, I don’t think I’ll ever be back again.”

All kidding aside, my brother’s first name really is John Wilder as well, but he gets a bit upset when I call him Juan, too. I think it’s because he’s older than me and all.

Anyway, the cassette I bought was Alice Cooper’s Greatest Hits. After the clerk pulled off the big plastic “don’t steal me” antitheft device, I was thrilled. I poked my fingernail under the cellophane wrapper and skillfully slit the clear plastic open. The ride home was going to be over two hours, and I had a fresh set of C-cell batteries in the cassette player (mono) which was also a handmedown from big brother John.

Yup, that’s Groucho on the album cover. How he got there, we’ll never know.

As I slipped into the back seat of the Chevy® Impala™ coupe that was Pa Wilder’s 400 cubic inch pride and joy, I shared the backseat with the cassette player and Alice Cooper.

The Sun was bright as the pavement slid underneath the Impala™’s wheels and as Pa put his foot into it in the mountain air.

I hit play.

I don’t think it was quite seven minutes into side one of the tape when the cassette player stopped making noise. I hit “eject” and saw the carnage. The cassette player, which had never, ever eaten a single tape, had not only feasted on my brand new tape, but had also . . . broken it. No rewinding it.

The tape was dead. Oh, sure, I tried to resurrect it for a month with all manner of ideas that came to my fevered elementary school mind, but not one of them worked. $10, a fortune to me, gone.

I still liked Alice Cooper, though.

Yes, officer, that was the one that did it. I’m sure.

Eventually, my finances improved and I managed to get several Alice Cooper albums, and I had learned. I bought the album on vinyl and then copied it onto a blank cassette tape. I bought the album for Alice Cooper’s Greatest Hits for myself the second time with my sixteenth birthday money.

Although it wasn’t on Alice Cooper’s Greatest Hits, the song Generation Landslide by Mr. Cooper was always a fun one to listen to. It also has these lyrics:

Sister’s out till five, doing banker son’s hours
But she owns a Maserati® that’s a gift from his father
Stop at full speed, at one hundred miles per hour
The Colgate™ Invisible Shield© finally got ’em

And I laughed to myself at the men and the ladies
Who never conceived of us billion dollar babies

Give it a listen. Good stuff.

As a banker’s son, (even from a small farm bank) I liked to imagine what a Maserati® might be. There was no Internet, so it was obviously Italian, but yet not made of pepperoni.

Even though I was a banker’s son, I ended up driving an old GMC™ pickup with the most gutless engine that GM© ever dared put under the hood of a pickup, vinyl bench seats, and rubber floor mats. It wasn’t a Maserati™, but the local fräuleins didn’t seem to mind too much.

I loved that truck.

But in 2021, I think of these lines from the song:

Stop at full speed, at one hundred miles per hour
The Colgate™ Invisible Shield© finally got ’em

I think about this couplet a lot. It’s not great poetry, but it has always brought to my mind a system, out of control. Everything is moving along, as fast as it can. And then?

Stop.

High speeds bring energy. A lot of it. The kinetic energy of a moving object in a non-relativistic reference frame (trust me, the readers of this blog will call me on that if I don’t mention it) is equal to the mass of the object times the speed of the object, squared.

KE=1/2mv2

That means that an object that is going twice as fast carries four times the kinetic energy.

So, speed matters.

A lot.

And the primary policy of the economic wizards that try to “manage” the economy of the United States is: putting the pedal to the metal is the easiest way to keep the party going. Whatever it takes to keep the economy growing and accelerating in that growth is the policy of the day. Who needs booze when you have meth?

If the economy seems to falter? The only answer is from both our government and the Fed® is, “faster, faster, put more gas to it.”

As most drivers know besides a Biden driving a car, the faster the car goes, the more vulnerable it is to any imbalances. Prudent drivers know when to slow down if the road is wet. Even fools know to slow down when the road is glaze ice. The main thing I try to keep teaching Pugsley and The Boy about driving on icy roads is this: turn or (brake/accelerate). Choose one. Otherwise, things tend to get spinny. Sometimes very spinny.

And it’s not the speed that kills you, it’s the sudden stop at the end.

I wonder how this plays out? Who could predict it?

Our economy has been goosed in the last decade (and even more so recently) by:

  • Artificially, and permanently low, interest rates.
  • Rampant money printing.
  • A never-ending supply of “stimulus” packages and tax cuts to goose the economy.
  • An experiment in Universal Basic Income by paying out of work people more than they were paid working to not work.
  • Blatant political cronyism far in excess of the usual – your elected representatives are even trying to bail out Jeff Bezos’ so he can compete with Elon Musk’s SpaceX®. This is actually happening (LINK).

One hundred miles per hour sounded like it was really fast to me when I was driving a pickup truck that wouldn’t go that fast downhill on a mountain pass (topped out at 95). But the economy is so goosed now that we see $100 plywood sheets tumbling in the breeze as we cruise down the highway. The stresses from the velocity as we shamble and skitter between the lines are evident.

What’s next, a $50 ribeye?

Speaking of printing, some people are now 3-D printing guns. That’s nothing. I’ve had a Canon® printer for years.

Maybe we can bring it back under control. I don’t know. But I do know what Alice said:

And I laughed to myself at the men and the ladies
Who never conceived of us billion dollar babies

La da da da da, indeed.

Specialization And Generalization, Take Two

“If you do not return with the plumbers and the rock, I shall personally . . . kill you.” – Super Mario Brothers (Movie)

I bombed southern France too many times.  Now I don’t have too much Toulouse.

Last week I wrote a post about specialization versus generalization (LINK).  As a part of the discussion, Aesop chimed in with a rebuttal post.

Specialization Versus Generalization: The Economy Chooses

I love it.

His post was called, “Yes, BUT…” and can be found here (LINK).  RTWT.  If Aesop were President, during his first term he’d solve all our national problems in the first 10 days and then would be able to take the rest of the 1451 days of his reign teaching Nancy Pelosi to beg for crackers.  Heck, he might even take the time to housebreak AOC.

There are very few words I’d disagree with in his entire post.

Von Mises (he of the incredibly heavy tome “Human Action” that I’ve referenced before LINK) wrote about just this.  Von Mises noted that you could if you really wanted to, break a rock with another rock.  You could get gravel that way.

A Brief Guide To Human Action – Which Leads To Human Freedom

Ugh, Grug make gravel.

Please be gneiss.

But it’s as slow as Biden trying to do a connect-the-dot picture of a straight line.

Pounding one rock against another is the most direct, the most general way to make gravel.  You can use this tried and true method pretty much any time.  Heck, I did that when I was a kid and tried to make arrowheads out of the rocks up on Wilder Mountain.  I do know that it didn’t take long to knap an edge so sharp it could do my algebra homework for me.

There is, however, an alternative to pounding one rock against another.  You could, if you had patience, get a hammer.  But, first, someone had to make the hammer, which involved mining ore, smelting, and then casting or forging the head and mating this with a wooden handle.  Plus, you could use the hammer to smash avocados and make whack-a-molé, guacamolé’s ugly sister.

A hammer is much better at making little gravel than hitting a rock with another rock, but it’s more indirect.  Even better is to wait until a chemical industry forms, wait for dynamite, use that hammer to drill a hole in the rock, drop in some dynamite, and make lots of little rocks, all at once.  Von Mises successfully showed that indirect methods are much more efficient than direct methods.

Indirect methods require specialization, and more than one chemist blown to bits before rocks can be blown to bits.

A terrorist blew up my rugs. That’s what I call carpet bombing.

I have no disagreement that this is, by far, the more efficient way to do it.  It’s the best way to do it, until (of course) people develop the metallurgy to make complex rock crushers that make tons of gravel hourly.

This all happens in a stable society.

That stability has waxed and waned throughout history.

Once upon a time, the Romans controlled Britain.  They did this because they decided they didn’t want to control the whole world, they just wanted to control the countries that were adjacent to the Empire.  And then the next set of countries that were adjacent to the new, larger, Empire.  And so on.

Archeologists love dinner plates because people (like Pugsley) washing dishes drop them and break them.  Because they’re ceramic, they last nearly forever in a garbage dump.  Imagine the archeologists from Tau Ceti visiting Earth in the year 1,238,631 thinking that the people in our time sat on toilets all of the time because that’s one thing that will definitely outlast anything that mankind ever made.

Our future name, “The Poopy Potty Sitters of Planet Three” will be chosen by Zamorg Flooglplaz, Ph.D., Polaris University (Mascot: Gelatinous Brainsuckers).

I didn’t have breakfast on the tectonic plate, instead, I had the continental breakfast.

Like I said, archeologists love plates.  And when they dug into the trash heaps in London (no, I don’t mean Johnny Depp’s house) they found that when the Romans were there, people ate off of “pretty nice” plates, “pretty nice” being a technical description that by definition excludes Johnny Depp’s place.  It turns out that most of those plates were made in the south of France (which we now call, “France”), and then shipped throughout the Roman Empire.

The people in the south of France were really good at making plates because they had yet to learn how to smoke and wear berets, and the Roman Empire was big enough and stable enough that the French could specialize in making plates.  Since they specialized, they got pretty good at it.

But then society became unstable.  The Romans Legions left, promising, “Hey, Britain, I’ve got to go to work.  I’ll call you next week, promise.  Oh, look at the time.”

When the Roman Empire collapsed, so did the trade in plates.  100 years after the Romans (and their cool plates) left Britain, the king ate off of plates that were worse than any commoner could easily afford when things were nice, stable, and efficient under Roman rule.

Stability in society leads to specialization which leads to efficiency which leads to (generally) higher standards of living for everyone.

But instability doesn’t have to impact an entire Empire.  Instability can impact individuals throughout their careers.  Why did the journalists hate it when their “learn to code” mantra go thrown back in their face when they were booted to the curb and they found that they had no other remotely marketable skills?

Because journalists are rich kids who weren’t smart enough to get into law school.  Writing snarky columns about “10 Reasons Your Dog Is Transgender” isn’t really a marketable skill after HuffPo® decides to fire them.

What programming language did George Lucas use?  Jabbascript.

Unlike most journalists, I’ve had (sort of) a Swiss Army Career™.  I’ve developed a particular set of skills (not the Liam Neeson ones) that have allowed me to do a lot of different things, but I’m only an expert in one or two.  But that suite of “pretty good” skills has allowed me to, like a Swiss Army knife, be incredibly useful from time to time.  Scott Adams calls this a “talent stack” and not all of them are equal.

Had I limited them to a single expertise, I would have been less valuable, and much less employable when the industry I was in slowed down and another one was hot.  As I look at the success level of many of my colleagues, it has been due to their variation in skills rather than their expertise in a single skill that led them to success – and some of them are wildly successful.

To further explain Swiss Army talent, Steve Martin can do several things at a world-class level, (including comedy, and acting), and is really good at musicianship and writing and sort of okay at singing.  Together, this blend elevated him to a national treasure.

(And no, I’m not comparing me to him, just using him as an example of someone who inspires me.)

If Martin had kept slaying them nightly as a standup, odds are that as fashions change he would have been a “Remember that guy with the arrow through his head in the 1970s?  He was funny,” trivia answer.

He would have been the Gary Mule Deer of his generation.

“Thankfully, perseverance is a good substitute for talent.” – Steve Martin

Another point I raised was certification.  In last week’s post, I made light of certification that can be found in many, many careers.

In a highly technical (and stable) world, certification is (sadly) essential to keeping people alive in certain professions.  Aesop brought up William Mulholland.  To quote Aesop,

“He (Mulholland) emigrated to America from Ireland, and started out as a literal ditch-digger for the city of Los Angeles, scraping mud out of the irrigation canals that supplied the bustling metropolis of 10,000 with all the water that could be gotten from the muddy semi-annual creek known as the Los Angeles River. He was an uneducated, unlettered, self-taught civil engineer who worked his way up to chief engineer of the city from scratch, just because he could figure things out.”

But, (also from Aesop):

“He (still Mulholland) was working on another project, still large and in charge, and he placed an earthen dam in one of the canyons north of Los Angeles. What he didn’t know was that the rock there was a terrible location for a dam. Which hydraulics, geology, and physics all demonstrated rather rudely one night in 1928, when the whole thing collapsed, killing at least 431 people (they’ve found bodies up to as recently as 1994) in the ensuing flood, ending Mulholland’s career, and he died a broken man.”

Mulholland’s error can be found again and again, even with credentialed professionals – re:  Tacoma Narrows Bridge, which was designed by the best and the brightest.  Stuff happens when you push the envelope of what we can do.  Part of the reasons that people don’t die on commercial airlines (very much) anymore is because we’ve discovered most of the ways that the airplanes can fall out of the skies.  Because airplanes built by credentialed engineers fell out of the skies, other credentialed engineers fixed the mistakes that made them fall out of the skies.

To be clear, before the planes fell out of the sky, the designers (mostly) had no idea they were making a mistake.

Mario’s™ favorite state?  Luigiana.

Our reliability is built on a sea of failure, sort of like I always imagined that the Marios® I killed in Super Mario Brothers fell on an infinitely deep pile of Mario skeletons.  It’s like the Tom Cruise movie, Edge of Tomorrow (If you haven’t seen it, it’s like Groundhog Day with the backdrop of an alien invasion of Earth).  Cruise’s character dies again and again but is reborn right where he was the previous morning with the knowledge of why he failed.

Engineering is like that.  Fail and learn and fix and stop failing.  Elon Musk’s SpaceX® exemplifies that sprit.  There’s another spirit that he exemplifies, and that’s the Robert Anson Heinlein quote that I tossed up last week:

A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly.

Specialization is for insects.

I’ll admit that, off of RAH’s list, I haven’t conned a ship, I haven’t set a bone, and I haven’t yet died.  I do think I could plan an invasion as well as Churchill did at Gallipoli.  Probably better, though I think Churchill could have taken me in a drinking contest.  I have done most of the others if you replace “hog” with “deer”.

Yes, that exact list?  Okay, it’s not my list.  But I’ll bet that you (and most people who end up here or at Aesop’s place) have multiple talents on a comparable list.  You can do lots of things that Bob never could have done – heck, I bet your list is better.

And being a generalist matters when novel solutions are required.  Novel solutions require (often) a combination of lots of different knowledge and experience.  Generalists are the pioneers and the people who keep the fires going after Rome leaves.  Generalists are the ones who figure out how to make the next sets of dishes after the supply from ancient France (now known as “France”) goes dry.

Aesop is right.  Specialists win when the weather is fair and the seas are calm.

I’m right.  Generalists win when the path is unclear and the seas are rough.

If I discover a way to make gravel out of rocks faster, I’ll let you know – it will be a ground-breaking discovery.

I prefer to live in a society where specialists help us create a great standard of living and keep increasing human knowledge.  But I also know that humanity forgot how to make concrete (which the Romans used in making the Pantheon in 126 A.D., which is still standing today) until about 1750 A.D., and we really didn’t get good at it until 1900 A.D.

Specialists make the world better and can achieve far more than generalists ever could.  They help the world see farther, and do more.  Generalists help the world advance in weird leaps that sometimes have horrible unintended consequences, but they also keep the fire of civilization burning.

Why not both?  Me?  I’ll be in the other room, making little rocks out of big rocks.