Opinions. A Small Book Review. Bad Jokes.

“That’s right. And if I think that Kirk is a Denebian slime devil, well, that’s my opinion, too.” – Star Trek, TOS

I’ve found that telling pizza jokes is all in the delivery.

Opinions.

Marcus Aurelius (dead stoic guy with a crappy son) said, “It never ceases to amaze me: we love ourselves more than we love other people, yet care more about their opinion than our own.”

I was talking with a friend about opinions today. Which opinions matter?

Well, if a toddler had an opinion, I’d generally disregard it because, like Joe Biden, they poop themselves and can barely string a coherent sentence together, even if you spot them a verb.

Toddler opinions generally don’t matter to me. And I never feel bad making fun of toddlers because, just like students in Baltimore government schools, toddlers can’t read.

Are chubby babies heavy infantry?

Okay, toddlers are out. Not that toddlers are always wrong, even they can see that I’m bald, for instance. Bald, however, is not an opinion. But try explaining that to a toddler, those drooling idiots with their Cheerio® encrusted fingers.

When I hear an opinion, I generally don’t accept it at face value. I try to filter it.

First, does it matter? Most people have opinions about most things. And most of those opinions don’t matter, really, to anyone. I don’t care about what anyone’s favorite color is. When The Mrs. wanted to paint my study, I didn’t really care about what color The Mrs. picked, as long as it’s not purple – I hate purple more than blue and red combined.

I don’t, however, let The Mrs. pick my cigars. My opinion on them matters, really, only to me and the company that I buy them from. I mean, when I looked up “how to light a cigar” on a search engine, I got 70 million matches. I might be interested in your opinion on good cigars, and might even try one, but it won’t change my world.

Can a cigar box? No, but a tin can.

The second filter is whether I can do anything about the opinion. If it passes the first filter, of “it matters” then I ask if I can do anything about it. This is a bigger question – I do have opinions on things I can’t do anything about. But as I go through life, I’m finding that often I have the ability to do things I never thought possible, like live in a country at the edge of civil and nuclear war with a president that has a dementia patient meth addicted son. So, there’s that.

I often find that, when I really try, that things I thought impossible were, in reality, really not that hard if I put my mind to it and dedicate myself to them. Of course, to really dedicate myself, then I face the risk of failure. Failing is tough, but it’s worth it on something that really matters.

I wonder why Ma Wilder always said “Embrace failure,” when she gave me hugs.

So those are the two big filters on whether an opinion matters to me.

The other opinions are opinions about me. I’d like to say that the opinions of people about me don’t matter, but I’d be a liar. I actually enjoy it when I troll people Leftists on X™ and they start frothing at the mouth. I guess you could call X© my troll booth.

I keep seeing Cthulhu memes, but I’m disappointed because all I ever see are the Old Ones.

But when people I respect share that opinion, well, I listen. And I run it through the filters.

This was a short one, and it’s also time to mention I just finished reading Hans Schantz’s latest book, The Wise of Heart. Full disclosure, I did get a review copy. I enjoyed it, as I have the other works of Mr. Schantz – especially the first book of his trilogy, The Hidden Truth.

This particular book was fully funded on Kickstarter®. When Kickstarter™ found out that it was a take on Leftist sex politics that didn’t follow the Leftist line, they kicked Hans off. He was fully funded (and then some) on FundMyComic©. Reminder – the people who run most tech companies hate you. Anyway, if you want, you can buy it at Amazon© (LINK) or other places. I get no compensation either way.

Like I said, I enjoyed it. But that’s my opinion.

Choose Who You Are. It’s Easy.

“Yes, sir! That’s exactly who I am and what I am, sir. A victim, sir!” – A Clockwork Orange

If someone named David is a victim of ID theft, do I have to call them Dav?

“As I’ve gotten older . . . I could not help but notice the effect on people of the stories they told about themselves.  If you listen to the people – if you just sit and listen – you’ll find that there are patterns in the way they talk about themselves.  There’s the kind of person who is always the victim in any story that the tell – always on the receiving end of some injustice.  There’s the person who is always kind of the hero in every story they tell.  The smart person – they deliver the clever put down.  There are lots of versions of this.  And you gotta be very careful about how you tell these stories because it starts to become you.  You are, in the way you craft your narrative, kind of crafting your character.  And so, I did at some point decide:  I am going to adopt self-consciously as my narrative that I’m the happiest person anybody knows.  And it is amazing how happy-inducing it is.”

-Michael Lewis

My first question after I read this was, “Okay, which Michael Lewis?”  I’m thinking there might be a million of them, but the A.I. refused to even guess and then pouted and now won’t open the pod bay doors for me.  So, I’m guessing that every other person in Michigan is named “Michael Lewis”.  Regardless, the most famous author named Michael Lewis is the guy who writes interesting financial books, so I’ll assume it’s him.

The nice thing about water from Flint is that you can use it to make a Pb and Jelly sandwich.

Regardless of who wrote it, it’s a good and fairly true quote.

Why?

Attitude is everything.

If you believe you’re happy, if you talk about being happy, you’ll . . . be happy.  As I’ve written before, being happy is really the easiest thing in the world.  Many mornings I’ll run into the secretary administrative assistant at the door.  Regardless of the weather, I’ll greet her with, “What a beautiful day it is!”  It could be sunny and hot, rainy, cold, snowing, or even volcano-y.  My greeting is the same.

Because it is a beautiful day.  And, one thing I’ve learned is that the weather absolutely doesn’t care about me, at all.  The snow doesn’t care that I love it.  The hot day doesn’t care that I like cold weather, though I think it might be personal with the volcanoes.  But I’m alive, breathing, walking and talking.  If I spent all day hating a temperature reading, that wouldn’t leave me time to hate people who deserve it, like communists, leftists, and mimes.

How could the day not be beautiful?  I get to choose how I feel, so why not be happy about it?

My insurance agent told me I can jump in an active volcano.  Once.

I read the Michael Lewis quote and immediately recognized it to be a rule I’d been living with.  I’ve written before about how absolutely horrid victims are to be around.  Everything happens to them.  They are at the center of their own story, but initiate no action.  They have all the resilience of a bean bag, and are psychic vampires that attempt to suck emotional sustenance in the form of pity from their unwitting prey by demonstrating how mean the world has been to them.  The technical term for this affliction is “Antifa® Member”.

They sing their own lives with their story.  I avoid these types of people as if they were constructed entirely out of George Soros’ toe cheese, which I guess explains why he’s long been called the “Creamy-Fingered Puppet Master”.

George Soros wants to destroy our culture?  I knew he was behind American Idol.

The Hero?  I can live with them.  Often, they’re really newts who brag about being distantly related to the Tyrannosaurus Rex.  They get their ego from being the one who has done the most, has the most gifted child, the cousin who went to Harvard®, and that they vacationed on Mars last summer.  The Hero does this this because they feel awful about themselves, and need to bolster their ego by telling these stories.

Again, I’m okay with The Hero, since if you listen to their stories and don’t try to top theirs, they eventually can be good people to hang out with, and as they get older or develop trust with you they drop the act.  They want to be liked, and if you like them for who they are, they often stop the Hero stuff.

The person who puts people down?  I don’t meet that guy (or gal) often enough to have any sort of read on dealing with them.  They just aren’t any in circle I’m in since I’ve been an adult.  I guess that tells me lots about how successful the strategy of “being a complete tool” is.

What’s the difference between a Hoover® vacuum and a limo carrying George Soros and his son?  The Hoover™ only has one dirtbag in it.

But there are lots of other ways to tell my story.  The best part is that I get to choose.  I get to choose to be the happiest guy people know.  I get to choose to be the guy in the room that is calm when everything is going to hell (I really enjoy that one, and it comes naturally).  I get to choose what I’m afraid of.

To be clear, this isn’t the Lefty talking point about “Your Truth®”.  That’s bogus, and denies objective reality.  Me?  I don’t deny that it’s snowing.  I don’t deny that it’s 103°F out.  I don’t deny that that pesky volcano keeps following me around.  But I do get to choose how that fact fits in with how I feel.

And so can you.

And so can those 5.04 million people in Michigan named, “Michael Lewis”.

What Do You Value?

“I have been in the service of the Vorlons for centuries, looking for you.  Diogenes, with his lamp, looking for an honest man, willing to die for all the wrong reasons. At last, my job is finished. Yours is just beginning. When the darkness comes, know this; you are the right people, in the right place, at the right time.” – Babylon 5

What is the most common question asked by philosophers nowadays?  “Do you want fries with that?”

Diogenes is dead.  When he was up and kicking around, he lived in a wine barrel at the end of town, and often was caught on the streets stark naked.  Sometimes he was, um, enjoying himself.  Oddly, he was also thought of as a respected philosopher.  When I try to emulate him, though, all I get is a restraining order and some embarrassing YouTube® videos.

The reason we remember Diogenes is for two reasons:

First, he invented the chicken nugget, but sadly was unable to invent any tasty dipping sauces.

Second, he walked around making pithy little statements like this:  “We sell things of great value for things of very little, and vice versa.”

It’s a very short, and very wickedly to the point piece of advice.  Frankly, it points out many of the problems we are facing as a society today.

Let’s take consooming for today’s topic.

Hipsters used to burn their mouth on pizza.  They ate it before it was cool.

Billions of dollars are spent attempting to convince people to purchase one product or another.  These advertisements are hard to avoid – and they have one thing in common – a desire to get the consoomer to spend money.  In some cases, the ads provide the ability to match a need with a product.  If I’m cutting down trees using axes and handsaws, knowing that a thing called a chainsaw exists is providing me a real value.  So, ads inform.

But ads also are used to create desire in customers, playing on emotions to drive purchase decisions for things that aren’t needs, but frivolities.  I have plenty of those!  I’m a sucker for some things in particular.  In the sitting room (where I’m typing this now) I look around and see a map I bought as artwork a few years ago.  It shows all the undersea telegraph cables in around 1871.  So very cool!  I walked into the store, saw it, and bought it.  I consoomed.

I can’t cut down a tree with it.  I can’t drive it to work.  It’s just . . . there, stuck to my wall.

I gave The Mrs. a dart and told pointed at the map.  “Where ever it goes, we’ll go on vacation.”  So, we spent two weeks behind the fridge.

Is the map of great value?  No.  It’s a print.  It doesn’t make me better, more complete, important, or accomplished.  We can look in terms of multiple ways to value things.  Dollars are only one.  In this case, the picture cost about what I made in about an hour or two.

Was it worth an hour of my life to own that map?  Yeah, I guess so.  But when I start to value objects that I own, and look at how much of my life I traded for them, my equation starts to change.

If I didn’t spend that hour at work, what could I have spent that hour on?  How could I have changed my life?  Could I have spent more time brushing my teeth, so they were 2.3% brighter?  Should I have spent that time waxing my dog?

Maybe this is why the Kardashians don’t shave?

What did I overlook or not spend time on?  And which of those things might have been more valuable?

I understand that money is important – those who say that money isn’t important haven’t gone without it.  But money isn’t the goal, it’s what can be done with it that’s important.  The true currency of our lives isn’t gold, silver, or even PEZ™.  It’s time.  Each of us on this planet have a finite number of hours left on this rock, and that number goes down by one each hour that we spend.

It goes down by one if I spend it at a job I don’t like.  It goes down if I spend it writing the best post I’ve ever written.  It goes down by one if I’m sleeping.  It goes down by one every hour.

Yes, I know, exercising and other positive things might extend that life, but I’m still going to die.

In the endless summer of a life when I was, say, 12, I didn’t think much about time and how I spent it.  Even then, though, I didn’t try to just “pass the time” since there was so much to do and see and learn in the world.   Now as I’m on the back side of life, I can see that those hours I have left cannot be wasted.

They’re all I have.  And learning is great, but now it has to have purpose.  Will it help me write?  Will it help me crack a puzzle that I can share?  Will it help me with some project I’m working on?

Can it help me change the world?

Again, as I get older, it ceases to be about me.  It’s now about what I can do to help others, how I can help make the world a better place.

You’re welcome.

Thankfully, during my career I’ve been able to do work on things that matter, and have made the world a slightly better place.  If I’m trading my life for my work, I’m glad that it’s work that matters.

Diogenes?  He’s still dead, but he changed the world, just a little bit.  And I can, too.   And so can you.  Time is still all we have, but it’s up to us to make the most of it, each and every day, just like Diogenes showed us.  But, I don’t recommend you do it naked.

Now, I wonder how Diogenes dealt with the restraining orders?

Don’t Waste Time, That’s All You Have

“Yes, I see, Captain. They would’ve learned to wear skins, adopted stoic mannerisms, learned the bow and the lance.” – Star Trek:  TOS

I guess I’ll admit I’m a Marxist.  A Groucho Marxist.  (All memes but the first one are as-found.)

One of Seneca’s (Dead Roman Philosopher Dude) most famous quotes is, “It is not that we have a short time to live, but that we waste a lot of it.”  What surprises me is that Seneca wrote this before Twitter® existed.  But even back in the time of Rome, there were ways to waste time.  I’m thinking Facebook® might be that old.

Regardless, his message is timeless:  every moment that we’re breathing here on Earth is precious.  We may not always get a choice as to how we spend our time (Ted Kaczynski seems to be booked every day) but the true crime is to waste time.  Oh, and blowing people up.

I wonder if that dog goes to the vet if he’s not peeling well?

I have been as guilty as anyone of wasting time.  And one of the biggest wastes of time is to become consumed by negative thoughts and emotions.  In reality, most of the time (most) the things that irritate me are small.  How small?  So small that if I pack up my emotions, and really assess as to why I’m mad, it just looks silly.  When Hillary reflects on why she’s mad, well, she calls the Suicide Hotline and places an order.

But that reflection is crucial.  It’s called self-control, and although it appears to be unfashionable in certain locations (Chicago, I’m looking at you) it is the only way to be successful.  If I threw a temper tantrum when (spins wheel) I drop a sock on the floor, I think there’s a simple word for that in the English language:  Leftist feminist the ATF unstable.

No, when I’m upset I stop.  I take a deep breath.  I ask myself, “Does it matter?”  Most of the time, it doesn’t.  At all.  Very few of the things that have irritated me matter at all over any rational timeframe.  The old two rules apply:  1.  Don’t sweat the small stuff.  2.  It’s all small stuff.

The second question is, can I control whatever the situation is or influence it?  If the answer is no, then that’s like being mad that the Sun is coming up in the morning.  Even if it’s my mistake, it’s sillier than being angry over the English coal minimum price subsidy in the 1800s or . . . anything that happened in 1619.

Why do they call childbirth delivery?  It’s really takeout.

One concept I’ve come across recently is “amor fati,” which is Latin for “put armor on fat people”.  Oh, wait, my translator was wrong.  It really means, “love your fate.”  I think I first heard a variation of this when I was a kid:  “You get what you get, and you’ll like it, and grease up the fat people so we can put plate mail on them.”

The reality of amor fati is this, though:  I am where I am, and I have a choice.  I can get up every morning and be mad, or I can be happy where I am.  Does that mean I’m content?  No.  Does that mean I’m not going to fight like hell?  No.  Does that mean I’m not going to try to change certain things with the fire of a thousand suns?  No.

Sesame Street® is a rough place.

It does mean that if life sucks, I can still find meaning, still find purpose, and still try to create the change that I seek to create.  It’s not complacency.  Heck, Seneca himself was one of the richest dudes in all of Rome.  That didn’t just happen.  He didn’t just wake up one morning, and say, “Holy crap, I have an amazing amount of money.  How did that happen?”

Seneca embraced what he had, and tried to better himself, and change himself.  He did okay.

Our choices are our choices, but even more than that, we always have the choice how we feel, even Ted Kaczynski.  We may have lost everything else, but we always retain that.  We should not be overcome by fear or despair.  To be clear – those are just about the most negative things we can let into our lives, unless you know one of the women on The View.

Is Justin worse than Whoopi?  You be the judge.

The only proper way to deal with tough times is to face into them.  Our obstacles make us stronger.  Each obstacle we face with virtue and excellence improves us.  Except for bullets.  Those sound like they really suck.

Regardless of all of that, the first point is still the most important:  our lives aren’t too short – our lives are exactly as long as they are.  Deal with it.  Love it.  Use your time – every minute.  Every second you waste?  It’s wasting your life.

Now, go make something happen.

Discipline, Romans, And Spending All The Money

“That’s newspapers for you.  You could fill volumes with what you don’t read in ‘em.” – The Green Berets

I decided never to jog with Marcus Aurelius.  It’s always dangerous to run with Caesars.

Self-discipline is hard, but it starts with the smallest step.  Even (the dead) Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius in his book Meditations talked about how hard it was to get out of bed in the morning.  Marcus talked about how warm and comfy he was under the covers, and how he’d like to stay there, curled up.  In then end, though, he got up because he had responsibility to govern the Empire that was a bit more important than his desire to be comfy.

Me?  There are some mornings I would have given up Gaul for another fifteen minutes.  Okay, maybe not Gaul because of the food, but definitely Judea.

Marcus did the tough (maybe he had a hangover?) thing because he had a responsibility to millions of citizens to do his very best for them, and as nearly as I can determine, he took that seriously.  Plus?  It’s good to be the Emperor.  I hear they didn’t have to wait in the drive through for Chicken McNuggets® and always got enough Hot Mustard™ sauce.

My advice?  Never eat a Kid’s Meal at McDonald’s®.  Their mothers tend to get upset.

The difficult part of discipline is that it requires, well, discipline.  Getting good things in life is difficult – that’s why we work for them.  And that’s why it’s called work.  It’s tough.  But when the seeds are planted, cared for, and weeded, then at harvest it’s time to reap the rewards.  Discipline is like that.  Heck, some sort of east Asian place that I can’t be bothered to look up has a proverb that says that, “A woman who marries a man who works hard every day will never starve.”

I don’t think that was China, because if it was China, they have been starving every century by the tens of millions, especially when they embarked on the Chinese Diet Plan called Communism.  Maybe it was Puerto Rico?  Or Applebee’s™?

Probably not.  But I think it might have ended in a vowel, but not Y, because that’s sometimes only a vowel, and I don’t think that Asians use the same fonts.

So, if even a dead Roman can figure it out, why can’t we?

Some people want to ban Roman numerals.  Not on my watch.

The latest bouts of fiscal insanity in the United States have made me think that none of them have read Marcus Aurelius, or maybe even can read.  What triggered this post is the recent Supreme Court Case about ghosts.  Oh, wait, that’s later.  No, student loans.

Student loans in the United States are a particularly horrible thing that gives money to Leftist professors so that they can indoctrinate youth but the youth has to pay for it until they lose all their teeth or pay it off.  I think that was in the terms and conditions of my student loans, but I can’t be exactly sure, since after I signed my name, they gave me $7,500.  Duh.

The most pernicious thing about student loans is that they live forever.  I paid mine off in January, 2013.  I paid ahead, but didn’t want to pay them off completely if the world ended in December, 2012 (which was a thing).  Oddly, this is a true story, and illustrates how far I’m willing to take a joke.

But student loan forgiveness is just the tip of the iceberg.  For the last five or so years of my life, the government (both Right and Left) has been like a fat girl who decides on a Tuesday night that the diet is over.  That cookie dough?  Sure.  I can eat a tube or two.  Covered in frosting.  Oh, and I’ll just tidy up the frosting container so it doesn’t go bad.  If you’ve given up, why not go all in?

The cannibal decided to go on a vegan diet.  He found a family of them at Whole Foods®.

The government (again, both Right and Left) has decided that there is no limit.  Every Tuesday for them is time to give Ukraine more money for . . . (spins wheel) dental x-ray infrastructure.  Will $23 billion cover that?  Sure, if it were just Ukraine, that would be one thing.  But it’s not just that.  Biden’s Build Back Better means that we’ll just burn cash to make us warm if we run out of oil.

If I seem a bit cynical, it’s because that at every single turn in my life, that I’ve seen fiscal discipline further erode, and money fly a bit freer each day.  At no point have I ever seen (outside of Ron and Rand Paul) and politician say, “stop”.  Apparently, when elected to Congress, the “spend money on everything light” blinks on the dashboard of their cars.

My dashboard keeps telling me “trunk is ajar”.  Silly car.  A trunk isn’t a jar.

There is no discipline.  There is no pretending to have discipline.  It’s all just comfy warm covers and Chicken McNuggies™ while every sense of fiscal discipline is overridden by another trip of the spoon int the Pillsbury™ chocolate frosting.

But that’s okay.  I’m sure it will end fine.  Where’s the frosting?  I think I want to sleep late today.  Oh, but have we spent enough money on Ukraine?

Red Pill? Blue Pill? What About The Green Pill?

“This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You take the blue pill – the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill – you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.” – The Matrix

What happens if they try to get a new actor to play John Wick?  Keanu leaves.

The movie The Matrix is a classic.  Too bad they never made a sequel or three.  I’m sure they would have been fantastic.  Imagine taking the adventures of Neo™ beyond that big battle with Mr. Smith®!

Regardless, The Matrix did include several ideas that have made their way into the main stream, and stayed there.  The biggest, perhaps, is the idea of The Red Pill and The Blue Pill.  In the movie, Neo© is given the choice of taking The Blue Pill, which will allow his version of reality, the things he knows, to remain, even though they are founded on pretty little lies.

I’ll admit, The Blue Pill is attractive.  It’s comfortable.  But it is, in the end, a lie.  I imagine that since you’re here, lies aren’t the thing that motivates you and more than they motivate me.

If Bill Cosby had played Morpheus, I think he would have pushed the blue pill.

The alternative is The Red Pill.  The Red Pill is the The Truth.  The problem with The Truth is that it’s ugly.  The world we want to believe in is in The Blue Pill, because those lies speak to us so clearly.  When I first took the Red Pill on a particular subject, I felt betrayed.  Here was an entire line of propaganda that I had been fed since I was a child – it was a part of my base programming.

That’s the problem with The Red Pill.  Once I took it, I began to question everything.  Like a potato chip, you can’t have just one.  And once I began looking, I found even more to question.  That was difficult, because I had to reevaluate where I was wrong.  And what ideas I had were built around those incorrect ideas.

The Red Pill is demoralizing.  It’s not pleasant to have to reevaluate basic beliefs, especially those that comforted me and that I now know are wrong.  In part, this website is about that.  It’s looking at the things I think I know, and trying to distill what is true.  On more than one occasion, a post was nearly complete when I found an inconvenient fact.

In algebra class, people always thought I was plotting something.

That meant I was wrong.  That meant my post was wrong.  In one sense it sucks because it kept me up later to write something else.  But it never upset me, because I had learned something new, and was a bit closer to The Truth.

A key to getting through The Red Pill is to embrace The Truth, and improve.  However much.  A little each day is enough.

I suppose you could call that The Green Pill.  Or, for weightlifters, The Iron Pill.

So, which one makes me The Hulk if I’m angry?

It’s the idea that instead of being upset that the world isn’t the way that I want it to be, I don’t focus on that, at all.  Instead, I try to focus on improving myself.  Not a lot, just a little each day.  Can this post be better?  Can I get stronger?  Can I get in better shape?  Can I learn another useful skill?

Life is nothing without difficulty.  There is no honor in fighting weak opponents.  I mean, I could spend my day boxing three-year-old kids.  But my arms would get tired.  Unless there weren’t that many, or if they were all especially weak three-year-olds.  Like vegan-weak.

No, for a victory to have meaning, the challenge must be sufficient.  It would have to at least be boxing six-year-olds.  Or, maybe helping the world, or even one person, see what they normally would never have seen.

I had a globe on my desk, and met the guy who made it.  It’s a small world.

I have to have a quest.  The grander, the better, and I even live with and am comfortable that I won’t live to see the ultimate impact that I have on the world.  That’s fine with me.  Small pushes, over time, change the world.

Never let The Red Pill get you down.  The real choice, even in a world gone mad, is to keep our virtue, and never to give up in making ourselves better, and to improving what we can, even if it’s only a little.

The Red Pill is difficult to swallow, but it is a gift, and victory in finding and spreading The Truth is the challenge that fuels me, and is way less tiring than fighting either endless streams of toddler or endless streams of Agent Smith.

Dang.  Sure wish they had made a sequel to The Matrix.

No Way To Go, But Forward

“It’s a hundred and six miles to Chicago, we’ve got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it’s dark, and we’re wearing sunglasses.” – The Blues Brothers

I’ve seen this meme a dozen times, but this is the first time I noticed that Keanu was talking to Sponge Bob and Patrick Starfish.  Now I can’t unsee it.  (All memes today are as-found.)

Today was . . . busy.  On the average day, I manage to manage stuff so that I get my normal life done and then have time to post or do other creative shenanigans.  Not today.  I could give a much longer explanation, such as:  “I ran out of gas. I . . . I had a flat tire. I didn’t have enough money for cab fare.  My tux didn’t come back from the cleaners.  An old friend came in from out of town. Someone stole my car. There was an earthquake. A terrible flood. Locusts! It wasn’t my fault, I swear to God!”

But I won’t.  I half expected this, but there was still the outside chance I’d come back in time.

I wasn’t out doing this, but it looks like fun.

So, a very short post on a Friday, and I’ll leave just one thought – there’s no use looking into the rearview mirror of your life.  You can’t go back there.  The only path that you and I have (provided you don’t have a time machine) is forward.

Me?  I look around, and take stock.  The mistakes I’ve made?  I don’t dwell on them, because I can’t change them.  I can only look at what I have, the talents I have, the support of the people who love or believe in me, and go forward.

There is no way out, but through.  Unless you live in Canada, where the “easy way out” is now a prescribed medical treatment.

I always thought we’d see another Pol Pot, just didn’t think he would be as much of a pansy as Trudeau.

So, remember, there is one direction, forward.  There is one attitude, determination.  And there is one moment:  now.

What you do with all of that, is up to you.

As for me?  I’m going to go hit the hay.  I’ll comment on comments from the previous post tomorrow.

I’m sleepy.

Your move, Mr. Bond.  Do you really think those Space Marines® can hold out?

Never Lose The Battle For Your Mind

Bah! Your planet doesn’t deserve freedom until it learns what it is not to have freedom. It’s a lesson, I say!” – Futurama

What did they call George Washington’s teeth?  Presidentures.

“So, John, after I explained it, do you agree with me?” asked Captain Assholay.

“No, no I don’t,” I responded.

He looked frustrated.

The other details of the conversation were and are relatively unimportant, but the boil down to those two sentences.  The fact that the person asking the question was my boss is pertinent, since, well, Captain Assholay was (years and years ago) my boss.

As bosses go, I’d rank the Captain near the bottom of the ones that I’ve had.  I think he was borderline retarded, and I can say that word because it’s my blog, and I’m bringing it back.

One of my previous bosses was a man that reportedly lost the family fortune by punching a punter for the Green Bay Packers® who sued him and won because he couldn’t play anymore.  I guess punters are fragile.  On another occasion (while drinking) he mentioned that he threatened a witness in a felony trial so he’d leave the state and not be able to testify.

Captain Assholay?  Worse than that guy.

Alternate caption:  “Well, Forrest, there’s cheddar cheese, fried cheese, cheese sticks, cheese curds, cheese slices, cheese doodles, melted cheese, cheese dip (continues for three days) . . . that’s all the cheeses I know.”

But these two sentences encapsulated the relationship I had with Captain Assholay – his question was whether or not I would change my opinion.  I would not.

Neither would I lie about it.

I’ve followed a fairly simple pattern in my life:  when I’m working for someone, if they ask me to do something that is within my capabilities, and it’s not illegal, immoral, unethical, and doesn’t conflict with my values, I do it.  Even if I don’t like it.  Even if it sucks.  That’s why it’s called work, and not a hobby.

This, though, was different.  In this case, I was asked to conform my thoughts and agree with my boss.  If he told me to do something (again, nothing illegal, immoral, unethical, and not conflicting with my values) I would do it.  But the space he doesn’t own is in my head.

To me, agreeing with the Captain merely because he was my boss is something I couldn’t and wouldn’t do.  I’ll hold my tongue.  I’ll support silly things.  But my mind?

I own it.

My other friend makes wigs.  It doesn’t pay much, just enough toupee the bills.

I’m not sure Captain Assholay understood that.  Heck, I’m not sure he had the capacity to understand it.  But it’s not my job to raise him.  One (much better) boss of mine had a saying, “Right or wrong, the boss is the boss.”  That is true, and soon enough, we ceased working together.

I don’t send him Christmas cards.  Okay, I don’t send anyone Christmas cards, but if I did, I would not send him two cards.  My joy in thinking about him is that I do know that karma is real, and that the German word for empathy is schadenfreude.

Even though I’ll enjoy (at some point) hearing about his sudden but inevitable downfall, that’s not the point of this post.  The point of this post is about the latter part:  there are things other people can buy from me.  My time.

But they can never, ever, buy my soul.  They can never buy my integrity.  They can never buy my values.

He also joined a poetry club.  So far he’s made some ashtrays and a nice vase.

Life is about a series of compromises.  Anyone in a long-term relationship realizes that.  In fact, I’m pleased that The Mrs. has learned that if I promise to fix something around the house, I will, and she doesn’t need to nag me every six months until I actually get it done.

I couldn’t lie to the Captain.  Why?

I’ve given that some thought.  One idea might have been pride, but that’s not it.  I’m not much about things like that – the last time I washed one of my cars was sometime when Clinton was president.  So, that’s not it.

It was deeper.  And I look to my growing up, and the stories.  Would the heroes I read about have yielded?  Would Alexander?  Would Patton?  Would Richard Dawson?

No.

While I will render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s, there are things that are simply not for sale, and never will be.  I will face the world that is being born knowing that.

“All I want for Christmas is Gaul.”

I don’t recall exactly where I read it, but the difference between the Mafia and Leftists is that the Mafia doesn’t care if you agree with them, as long as you pay.  Leftists?  You must pay, and you must agree, and you must humiliate yourself if you ever disagreed.  They will settle for nothing less.

The only answer is to never give in.

Ever.  Understand where the line is, and never, ever let it be crossed.  Even if you aren’t religious, understand that the battle is for your soul.

And you will be tested.

And you are not alone.

I saw my ex-wife get hit by a bus, and thought, “Man, that could have been me,” but then I remembered I don’t know how to drive a bus.

And that is the first step and the final step of winning.  If you don’t compromise, there will never be a one-way trip on a train.  Be free:  never give the space in your head, never give up your values or virtue.

Especially not to Captain Assholay.

How Scarcity Has Changed Your Life, And Will Change It Again. But With Hot Chick Pictures.

“Dad! Bob broke your beer!” – Strange Brew

Here’s one only 1300’s kids will get: The Black Plague

Part of the history of humanity was scarcity. Scarcity has formed society since, well, forever. What do I mean?

Well, before agriculture, there was a scarcity of beer. My personal theory is that civilization itself is because we wanted beer on a regular basis (Beer, Technology, Beer, Tide® Pods, Beer, Civilizational Stability, and Beer). Click on this one, it’s a fun read and one of my Original Wilder Thoughts.

So, beer was scarce, and we made agriculture and farms so we could get beer.

But what became scarce then? Labor.

Prior to having agriculture, slavery was a net negative. To have a slave, you had to feed him or her, and what were you going to have them do all day, hang out and play Nintendo®? If you sent them out to hunt or gather, they’d never come back. But once you had work to do every day to make sure the farm produced pre-beer?

Slavery made sense because having more slaves resulted in having more beer.

If agriculture was the most disruptive technology in history besides Über®, slavery was an unintended consequence. Labor stayed as a scarce resource for a long time, until the Industrial Revolution. The Industrial Revolution was amazing precisely because it changed the game on labor.Why did Leia passionately kiss Luke? She was looking for love in Alderaan places.

Sure, labor was needed, but the entire type of labor needed to be changed. It went from artisans and craftsmen making “one of a kind” items to people working in a factory making standardized items that were all the same. Because of the nature of the process, people generally worked on only one part of whatever was being made. The jobs were simplified, so that people could do one, repeatable task again and again.

People became replaceable, just another cog in the machine, but the scarcity of labor that created the need for slavery changed to make slavery uneconomical again. Why have a slave that you have to take care for, when you can have an employee that you can fire when they get old or injured?

Now, the scarcity was energy.An entire industry was built on just getting energy to feed the industrial revolution. Coal was the first, but followed soon enough by oil. The first oil wells were a boon because they produced lamp oil, and the gasoline bits were thrown away (generally dumped on the ground) and the heavy bits (asphalt, etc.) were thrown in pits.

Of course, soon enough, we determined how to use everything that came out of the ground for something, and none of the sweet, sweet oil was wasted.

Have we outstripped our energy resources? Possibly. But that’s another post . . .After I put that fence up, my neighbor was dead against it.

Entertainment had been scarcer than an Amy Schumer comedy special, too. If you wanted to listen to a song, you had to find someone who could play it or sing it. And the best version that you could get was dependent upon the best singer in town, and the best guitar player. After records showed up, now anyone could listen to the best vocalist in the world. Local bands? They weren’t needed so much anymore. Soon enough, the best actors and comedians (Amy Schumer, sit down) in the world were available, too.

You could say that entertainment was just a subset of information. The availability of that had been growing, too. From information carved into stone, set into clay tablets, handwritten on paper or parchment, to a printing press using moveable type, information kept getting cheaper and cheaper.

And faster and faster. The upside? All of Aristotle and Marcus Aurelius and Seneca available in an instant. The downside? Game of Thrones™ and Maisy Williams with her unibrow.Aristotle says we are what we repeatedly do. Therefore? I am your mother. (not my meme)

There are those that hypothesized that the only reason the Mongol Empire stopped before overrunning Europe was the time it took to get communications from the seat of the Mongol Emperors of China to the fringes of Empire. Or it could have been that they didn’t watch their steppe. Communication of information around the world was impossible at 10,000 B.C. (or could take centuries), years during the Roman Empire, months after Britain ruled the waves, days after communication cables were strung ‘round the world by the end of the nineteenth century, and down to hours after radio.

Now? Tribesmen living in the middle of a South American rainforest know the daily price of gold. Information has transcended the bounds of time and space, and the greatest works of literature and film are widely and instantly available. Oh, and Amy Schumer videos.

The ability to make decisions is in the process of being phased out as a scarce item. For decades, computer control systems have replaced operators at industrial facilities, and robots not only make welds, but make the decisions on the quality of the products produced. But these processes are determined and monitored by people.

That’s changing. Difficult things that were kept to humans like diagnosing patients? Human doctors are losing to A.I. One particular system looked at EKGs, and the A.I. could predict people who were going to die, even when doctors looked at the information and couldn’t see anything wrong.What do they call the person who graduated last in his class at medical school? Doctor.

But at least we still have thought and creativity, right?

Well, no. 2022 is the advent of A.I. art. There are multiple engines, online right now that will draw pictures that are almost indistinguishable from photographs. I’ve posted one below. It may look like a hot chick, but I assure you that it is not. Don’t believe me? Look at the hands. Small details, sure. And small details that will eventually be fixed.How long will it be before novels are written by A.I., and entire movies from start to finish are created in A.I. engines? Something tells me, not long. If agriculture was the most disruptive technology in the history of mankind, A.I., even as it exists today, is the second most.

It has long been my assertion, that in any Universe where A.I. is possible, it will be created, and will spread to the stars. But what’s the densest form of information storage currently known, the wellspring of millions of species across the history of Earth?

DNA.

Such a complex structure that incorporates so much information. It’s almost like it was . . . created.

Wouldn’t it be the perfect vehicle for translating information across the vastness of space? Easy enough to encode an entire ecosystem a fraction of an ounce (megaliter). But I digress, that’s probably (likewise) a good starter for a future post.A friend of mine had a job circumcising elephants at the zoo. The pay wasn’t good, but the tips were large.

So what is the scarcity that we are facing now?

One thing I see that we’re facing right now is a scarcity of virtue.

The values that we know produce a stable society are in short supply, and dwindling. The cracks of that are spreading. It can’t, and won’t continue long. We are at the cusp of a singularity of different factors, the scarcity of scarcity, and the scarcity of virtue and self-discipline.

Good times make weak men, who create hard times, who create strong men.

We are on the cusp of the hard times, and the strong men will be back. Our civilization will not be the civilization that came before. We have the elements in place to make a future that our ancestors couldn’t dream of. There is a chance that it will be a golden era of freedom and enhanced creativity.

And to think, it all started with Urg, king of the 78-strong tribe of the Shamalama tribe in ancient Mesopotamia, wanting to have a cold beer.

Cheers!

Burning Your Way To Happiness

“No! Look, what’s the matter with you all? It’s perfectly simple: We have the fire drill when I ring the fire bell. That wasn’t the fire bell! Right?” – Fawlty Towers

At the pub, the owner told me I was drunk and needed to take the bus home.  Turned out those are even harder to drive when you’re drunk.

It was a cold, February campout.  It was also rainy, and also weather that most folks would call miserable.  In fact, it was also the first campout that I was Scoutmaster.

I think the temperature, at its highest, was probably around 45°F.  It froze at night.  We put our tents up in the dark, and I snuggled deep into my sleeping bag.

The next morning, we had breakfast.  One thing that I had changed since I became Scoutmaster was that the Scouts bought, cooked, and ate their own food.  One thing I observed on previous campouts was when the kids and adults ate the same food, the adults wanted good food, and wouldn’t leave the kids alone.  Me?  I had no desire to eat chicken tartare, so I let the kids fix their own food, and I often cooked for the adult leaders.

I drew a picture of a criminal once.  He looked pretty sketchy.

The plan for the day was fairly simple.  80% or more of the Scouts needed to get to First Class (a rank where a boy would know most of the things so they could survive a solo campout for a few days, if need be).  We focused on First Class skills.  One other thing I instituted is that the older Scouts were to teach the younger Scouts, for reasons that are probably obvious.

My job, mainly, was to drink coffee and take someone to the hospital if the hatchet got the best of them.  At this campout, there was one Scout in particular who had very little skill at anything.  One of the Scouts of higher rank ran him through building a fire.

Jack London aside, building a fire after a rainy night on a blustery, rainy day isn’t the easiest of things.  And, to be fair, this Scout wasn’t the quickest on the uptake.  But he worked at starting his fire for a really long time.  More than an hour?  Certainly.  But he had dogged determination, and finally got his fire going.

“Okay,” I said, “You can put that one out now.  That qualifies.”

“No, I want to keep it going.”

I hear arsonists do well on Tinder®.  They have a lot of matches.

I was fine with that.  It was his fire, and if he wanted to keep it going, I was fine with that.  There was little chance of him burning down the soggy campground.

He kept the fire going through the night, feeding it, and teasing it along.

He made First Class, but I must point out, by the time he got the rank badge it wasn’t nearly as important to him as building that fire.  He had acquired a skill.  He could do more than he could before.  He did not need outside validation.  The achievement was part of him.  He was proud of himself.

So often, we get tied up in feeling about things that are beyond our span of control.  Marcus Aurelius wrote, “You have power over your mind, not outside events.  Realize this and you will find strength.”

I hear that Marcus Aurelius got the first weather report.  “Hail, Caesar!”

I know that we are living in a world filled with tough situations.  I would say this, if some outside event upsets you, go ahead and be upset.  Until midnight.

Then, take control.  Realize that what you can be and do is the important thing.  As that Scout taught me, being fulfilled isn’t being surrounded by supermodels and driving a Lambo® while they softly nuzzle your neck and . . . where was I?  No, that’s not fulfillment.  Fulfillment is achievement.

Almost every single person reading this has the power to be better tomorrow at something.  A skill.  Bench pressing five more pounds.  Learning Shakespeare in the original Klingon.  Becoming a better carpenter.  Finally trimming those nosehairs, or at least weaving them into an attractive scarf.

Me?  I write, and try to get better.  When I’ve written what I want, I don’t need anyone to tell me – I feel it inside.

And I’m okay.

Except in especially tragic situations, it is in our power to be better.  It is in our power to improve.  And through doing so, it is in our power to build internal strength.  And we don’t need anyone to validate it.

Life is tough, and it’s even tougher when we try to take on every injustice in the world.  Sometimes we just need to take a few minutes, and build a fire.