The Relentless Philosopher

Mot Juste du Jour: Enlightened Social Commentary Edition

2009-02-18T21:57:00.001-06:00

Of course it's hard to think of Indonesia as a muslim country; they're too rational. Case in point: "Some protesters set tires on fire in a city on the capital's outskirts and others screamed 'Hillary is terrorist.'"

James

Ladies, as a matter of fact, I am your perfect mate...

2008-12-09T21:16:00.002-06:00

Balls and brains

Dec 4th 2008
From The Economist print edition

The quality of a man’s sperm depends on how intelligent he is, and vice versa

Link here.

I won't bother to summarize. It's self-explanatory. The Money Line is this:

Ms Arden sought to test this idea in a way that excluded intelligent choice and got directly at any correlations between intelligence and health that operate at the physiological level. She chose sperm quality because it is both easily measured and about as far from intelligent choice as it is possible to imagine...
samples had been collected and analysed from unvasectomised men who had... answered all the necessary questions for her to test her hypothesis, namely that their g values would correlate with all three measures of their sperm quality.

They did. Moreover, neither age nor any obvious confounding variable that might have been a consequence of intelligent decisions about health (obesity, smoking, drinking and drug use) had any effect on the result. Brainy men, it seems, do have better sperm.

I think if I make photocopies of this article and distribute it to women I might randomly meet, my odds for successful procreation will increase. Let the experiment begin...

Happy VI Day!

2008-11-22T20:30:00.003-06:00

I don't usually go for "causes" and I'm not terribly activist in my blogging. But sometimes you just see something you believe in and so you just have to say something about it.

Instapundit linked to a post which I didn't immediately get - I'm not much of a history buff. But the cause is just, and the message true: I believe this is something I should be endorsing and proclaiming.

So, I figure I might as well join what I hope will become a widely-recognized bandwagon:

HAPPY VICTORY IN IRAQ DAY, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 22, 2008!

Mot Juste du Jour: Department of Redundancy Department edition.

2008-11-12T22:42:00.004-06:00

Interestingly enough, I'm finding my current job to be interesting enough.

Me, in email correspondence with a friend

Mot Juste du Jour: Paradoxical Recursion edition

2008-10-24T21:55:00.001-05:00

Her: You're such a fraud!

Me: I never claimed to be otherwise...

Random Im exchange in my little world

Something fascinating...

2008-10-23T21:27:00.004-05:00

... and something... rather not.

The fascinating bit comes from this article on CNN.com. The very brief summary of the article is that scientists have found that physical warmth in the hands can affect how warmly one person judge's another's personality.

Think about this for a second: simply altering how the physical environment impacts a person. can alter a person's cognitive and emotional reactions.

I have to admit I don't find this nearly as earth shattering as perhaps most people will. Partially it is because I'm no stranger to the thesis that our cognitive processes are much more closely tied to our physical bodies than is commonly thought. Still, it is fascinating.

Speaking of understanding how our minds work, This was on Yahoo News' front page today:

Beyoncé changes her name

The singer's new album reveals an alter ego which she says allows her to take more risks. » What it is

The name is intentionally withheld in order to generate clickthroughs. When these techniques no longer work, when people can avoid such blatant manipulation to the extent that it is no longer profitable, humanity will turn a corner in its evolution.

And yes, this was not fascinating. I'll try very hard to avoid, as long as possible, finding out what it is. I did not click on the link.

Mot Juste du Jour: Reboot edition

2008-10-11T11:45:00.001-05:00

Some guys do extreme sports. I date redheads.

Snark

2008-10-04T21:08:00.001-05:00

I’m at the bookstore.

There’s a nice (pretty) lady looking at some chick piece of publishing. I know that it is because it’s pink. She’s in her late 20’s. She’s done up nice.

Her daughter is with her. Probably about 10 years old.

Has her hair done nice, wearing a nice outfit, with the cutest the perfect little doll-sized replica of her mother.

And she’s reading a teeny-bop girl magazine.

Somebody please tell me why this doesn’t constitute child abuse.

I hate cold weather...

2008-10-02T19:32:00.001-05:00

And it's only AUTUMN. Isn't this WINTER weather???

Well, I said I was going to do this...

2008-09-26T21:20:00.002-05:00

Just thinking out loud.

Right now I'm learning that my biggest obstacles are those associated with having habits, routines, and procedures in place to... organize my activity.

The problem now IS activity. I'm inspired - big whooping doo. I have this itch to write - I'm sure you've all experienced it. But I can write it down and it gets me not a whit closer to where I want to be. Because it's just the... ramblings of a dilettante. At this point, it's not about writing.

It's about starting a career.

And to accomplish that, I need to first to get into a productive... not frame of mind - the problem is not mental. It's, slightly, mental, but it's mostly pragmatic....

Incidentally one of the things that amazes me right now is the benefit of having an object of focus. Right now, I know exactly what I am trying to accomplish and where I am trying to go. As a result, I have standard by which I can measure my actions... a rule... and this makes me ABLE to focus in the first place.

I feel as if I hae a laser-like insistence on this particular thing...

Everything in subordination to it....

Most important action items in terms of encouraging my productivity: getting in contact with people who will inspire intellectual ferment (first and most notably the chair of the Business College at UAH); and setting up an action plan for pursuing writing as a continuous activity.

Right now, everything must be subordinated to the goal of getting me writing a lot and writing for purpose, and writing with the intent of possibly seeking publication (or at least dissemination) of what I write. I.e. becoming a freelancer.

We'll see what happens....

Meetings with Remarkable Men

2008-09-24T15:40:00.000-05:00

Those of you not familiar with the work of G. I. Gurdjieff will no doubt fail to recognize the title of one of his most important books. While that is specifically intentional, it is not my purpose here to actually talk about Gurdjieff, in no small part because I’m not actually terribly familiar with his work. I’ve read exactly one book by his disciple, P. D. Ouspensky; that, combined with what biographical information I have regarding both men have convinced me that there is something there, if it is approached with an open mind and minimal preconceptions.

(I’m a firm believer that recommendations made by one person to another can only be taken as seriously as the product of the second person’s open-mindedness towards the subject at hand, and the respect that the recommendee accords to the recommendor. As such, the less I say about particular subjects, the better.)

The inspiration for today’s post is rather subjective and personal. To borrow a phrase from a dear friend, I have friends (including her) that are awesomely amazing and inspire me to interesting heights and ambitions. I had a conversation with one of them today. It was… flights of analytical abstraction on topics as diverse as society and economics and education and politics that was… good old-fashioned “intellectual conversation.” It reminded me of the heady days when I was an undergrad at Samford, ready and willing to take on the world. It put me to mind the kind of salon atmosphere that has always been my most productive source of intellectual ferment. It made me long for circumstances that are vastly different from the ones wherein I currently find myself.

It also convinced me that… this obsession thing is… just exactly where it’s at.

Because, for the first time in my life, I don’t feel as if I’m a victim, a passenger, on tides and happenings beyond my capacity to appreciate or ability to control. I am aware of the specific forces at work and the operational principles of those forces, and more to the point, of how I ought to navigate them. And, most important of all, I have a specific destination in mind of where I want to go, where I want these currents to take me.

Right now, I want to concentrate on the endpoint, the final destination. This temptation must be resisted. As a firm believer in the pragmatic value of the “Line upon line, precept upon precept” perspective, I know that there is no surer way of hobbling myself and preventing myself from ever accomplishing my ultimate goals than to get a step or two or three ahead of myself and attempt to take on roles and responsibilities that I’m not yet ready to assume.

At the same time, it has probably never been more important to fix my endpoints firmly in mind. I KNOW what I want to accomplish, and some of the steps necessary to accomplish them. And I (quite frequently) have ideas of what I can be doing (practically!!!) to accomplish those goals.

Right now I need the following kinds of “social structures” the “scaffold” me into the course I want to ultimately pursue. First there will be those friends/acquaintances who can inspire the ultimate goals and share in the intellectual ferment of heady ideas and concepts. They’ll “keep me inspired” and encouraged, make me want to keep at it, endure the indignities of hard work. And then there will be those of my friends who, in the interest of aiding my success, will help me focus on the necessaries, the nitty-gritty, trudging details that are a requisite of any kind of success….

It all makes so much sense right now. It’s pretty obvious to me that, at the moment, I’m riding a manic high, but that’s no reason not to start laying some groundwork, start getting stuff done NOW that’s going to really matter in the long run. The paradoxical problem is that whenever I DO feel like accomplishing a LOT, my temperament runs toward the big picture stuff, towards the grand and glorious synthetic visions of the world that have nothing whatsoever to do with starting a writing career. Must avoid getting ahead of myself.

So, just a friendly FYI: I am likely to turn this blog in particular into a dumping ground for my practical ideas and to-do lists that, short of being written down and therefore concretized, will simply vanish into that particular hell where Good Intentions always seem to slip off to. I have a couple of guidebooks/self-help/pathway-to-success titles that I’m going to be following/instituting/realizing/pursuing/performing/executing. In the process of doing so there will be specific steps that I will need to accomplish, and I’ll probably be noting that here.

If my “thinking to myself” gets odious or onerous or some other adjective starting with ‘o’ and denoting some sort of negative reaction inspired by said thinking out loud, just let me know and I’ll alter my behavior accordingly. For now…

For RIGHT now, I’m going to list my next project, so that someone out there will know that it’s a project I know I *should* do and that I am therefore putting it out there for people to encourage me to actually do it. I’m going to write down, in actual, handwritten or typed text, the specific goals I have in mind. For the purposes of this exercise, I won’t bother being either terribly precise or specifically programmatic – I won’t bother laying out the exact steps that I’m going to take to get there, in other words. But I DO intend to start writing it down, as well as start writing down, in separate notebooks, both ideas (big picture concepts) and procedures (specific, practical blueprints).

Let’s get going, shall we?

Magnificent Obsession, Part 2

2008-09-23T16:17:00.001-05:00

Nobody really understands the economy.

This isn’t exactly a statement that inspires much dissent.

The current meltdown in the financial markets is probably, probably a good thing for someone who’s interested in the line of work I want to tackle.

These are fine, fine times to be a metaphysicist of economics.

(Wouldn’t that just make me a Meta-economist?)

(Nah, that sounds like someone who studies economists.)

A friend of mine, recently, told me something that Scott Adams suggested. Interestingly enough, another friend of mine, long, long time ago, told me that Scott Adams was into the whole “affirmation” thing (yes, that was you) and lately, that stuff has started to make more and more sense.

It’s that obsession thing I keep talking about. For those of you who are not aware of the fact that I do “keep talking about” it only read my blog. Shame on you. Get to know me as a person, dagnabit.

Anyway, back to obsessing about obsessing:

There’s something I want to do. I want to be the premiere thinker on a specific aspect of economics in the world – specifically, on the metaphysics, the underlying background, the fundamental stuff of what the ecnomomy is and the rules under which they opereate. It is my belief – nay, my conviction – that the state of economic knowledge today is commesurate with that of medicine before the days of William Harvey. Just as the absence of any knowledge of knowledge of Anatomy and Physiology, I’m sure that bleeding a patient who had a fever seemed perfectly sensible. Likewise, without any true understanding of what the economy is about, economic policy is likely to be just as helpful.

As I said, these are fine, fine times to study Metanomics. Unfortunately for me, that is not (yet!) my job.

You see, I want it to be my job. But as of right now, however well-informed my ideas are,k however accurately they model reality, no one gives a damn about my thoughts on the subject. (Well, maybe not no one but certainly no one who, given the context, matters.) So, my current job is to make the job of studying the metaphysics of the economy my future job. But that, my friends, is a multi-step process.

And here are the steps:

Ultimately, I want to be recognized as the foremost authority on Metaeconomics.

Before that I need to be recognized as an authority in economics.

That I will achieve by being a significant writer on the economy and economic topics.

But first I need to become a writer.

However, as I indicated earlier, I’m not exactly self-motivated material. To become a writer I must first REALLY, REALLY WANT to be a writer.

And that, my friends, is what my current job is: becoming obsessed with being a writer.

Magnificent Obsession

2008-09-18T23:55:00.000-05:00

One of these days, I’m going to get myself into trouble…

I recently decided it was in my best interests to become a writer.

Now, coming to this decision was at once suddenly unexpected, and painstakingly obvious. A friend mentioned freelancing off-hand in a conversation. I was at the bookstore, and looking for a book. The title Six Figure Freelancing appeared before me. Voila!

There’s just one small problem…

I am, without a doubt, one of the least qualified individuals ever conceptualized (I would have said “conceived” except that that’s not what I meant) to be what effectively amounts to a self-employed artisan. What, me, actually, going out there and banging down doors and convincing them to pay me good money to craft words for their pleasure? Right.

The problem isn’t that I’m not good at it (no comments from the Peanut Gallery, thank you: you’re reading my blog.) It’s not that I don’t have something to say. It’s not that if it gets written, it won’t be worth reading. It’s that I have no sense of organization, self-discipline, commitment, planning, or prioritization.

In other words, I don’t have any reasonable skill whatsoever at elements that are necessary in the make-it-or-break-it, dog-eat-dog, insert-generic-expression-for-cutthroat-competition-here world of independent contractor.

What I am is very, very, VERY smart.

(Maybe only very, very smart.)

It’s not looking-so-good for me.

(Philosophical in-joke regarding predication. Pay it no mind.)

My situation, as I explained it to a friend of mine (I have those, every once in a while) is that of having a very, very, VERY powerful punching arm (maybe only a very…) and wanting, therefore, to go into boxing.

While being completely untrained in boxing. And, for good measure, also being completely out of shape.

It’s not to say it can’t be done. And it’s not to say having a powerful punching arm cannot be a perfectly fine asset to have as a boxer. It might even both a) compensate for weakness in other areas and b) help one to excel in general in the sport. But before you can even bother to get into the ring, you had minimally got to lose 20 pounds and get some wind. To say nothing of learning to spar….

Which leads me to obsession.

Look, I know I’ve obsessive tendencies. (If you’re reading this, you probably know me well enough to confirm it.) So I’m thinking if this might not be a case of one problem being the solution to another problem. Would be kind of handy to have: an obsession for __________ that impelled me to excellence in the field of __________ to such a degree that I became a hard-working, productive writer in order to become a well-renowned expert in said field.

Understanding the underlying metaphysics of economic systems. Philosophy of Economics.

This is the plan I have in mind for my life.

Wish me luck - I'm gonna need it.

How's this for aiming low...

2008-08-24T12:10:00.001-05:00

My accomplishment for this morning:

Clearing out 2000 unread (mostly spam) emails from my Yahoo Email account and emptying the Spam Filter.

If I'm really brave, I'll tackle my Gmail account later....

Curses! Foiled again! or This is why I should Blog More Often

2008-06-07T20:16:00.003-05:00

Yesterday, I came to a realization.

The Democrats are going to lose the Whitehouse in 2008.

And here's why.

There's going to be an anti-reverse-racist backlash against Obama.

To clarify: Obama himself will be largely blameless of this but will be the unwitting victim of the company he keeps. The Mainstream Media will be so in the tank for him, and so convinced, not only of their own rectitude but the moral impoverishment of their opponents, that they will pillory every critic of Obama with what they will, deep in their hearts, KNOW is the REAL reason those on the Right will oppose him: Racism.

That's right. The Media are going to lose the election for Obama, and they are going to do it by pissing Moderates off by constantly calling ANYONE who criticizes him a racist.

So, this occured to me yesterday. And I thought about posting it, but it was running late, and I opted to wait till later to post those thoughts.

So guess what's on Instapundit today?

EFFORTS TO PREPARE THE MEDIA BATTLESPACE:

The Left is very invested in both preemptively delegitimizing criticism of Obama and framing opponents as de facto bigots.

I can think of no better reason to vote against Obama than the prospect of an administration where any criticism of the President is treated as racism.

Yeah, I think I've learned my lesson. Strike when the iron is hot, dammit!

I'm not really a technophile, but...

2008-06-07T19:22:00.003-05:00

So I have a new toy. With my birthday coming up, and my cell phone plan eligible for an upgrade, I succumbed for the first time in my life to cell phone lust. Initially the object of my affection was this little number. I've had 3 phones, 2 Nokias and 1 Samsung. Aside from actually liking the Nokias, the Samsung positively sucked. I figured I would stick with an interface I was familiar with; and since I was eligible for an upgrade, I pondered spending a little extra money - this would be the phone that would last through a 2 year contract extension, after all - and getting something nicer. Maybe even an MP3 player.

So I had a serious case of cellphone lust for the Xpress 5300... at least until I went by a T-Mobile stand and actually picked one up. It was a slider, which had that going for it, or so I thought. The thing was, well, bulky. It wasn't stylish at all. Now I'm not the most gotta-have-a-shiny-new-toy kind of guy, but if I was actually going to lust after something, I wanted it to be lustworthy. It might have been cool to have an MP3 phone, but lustworthy it was not.

I was saved by being poor.

Long story short (and screw you for comments to the effect that I'm incapable of such) by the time I was able to afford the $50 to upgrade to the phone, it had been discontinued; and while I was initially upset by that fact, I was soon consoled by the knowledge that the next generation model would be out the very next week. I checked it out in a store the day it came out, read a couple of reviews of it online, and wouldn't you know people liked it better than the original. So I ordered it, expecting it to come in 7 business days.

It came in 3. I would have gotten it after 2 but I was at work when UPS came by. Let me just say, I LOVE this phone. It's slim, sleek, shiny, and the sound is just awesome. It's my first MP3 player, and I'm discovering how addictive it can be to listen to any of your music whenever you want.

But as impressive as my MP3 phone is, its the entire blanket of communication that most fascinates me. Today I talked to my father in Texas while at work; my mother in Puerto Rico while walking in the park - during which time, I might add, I was listening to Mussorgsky's Picture's at an Exhibition - and now I am sitting in a bookstore, typing on a blog with my laptop computer through a WiFi connection that presumably can be read by anyone in the world, while on the phone with a coworker (and listening to Smetena's "The Moldau").

I am often flummoxed and frustrated by people who insist that "things are getting worse," that the world today is not only not improving, but actually becoming less friendly, less convenient, less connected "on a human level" with "technology getting in the way." I can't possibly imagine, short of somehow bifurcating myself so I can be both in Texas and the Caribbean, carrying around a phonograph and twenty pounds of records, while somehow broadcasting my personal reflections on shortwave radio, how at any time in the past I could be as connected to the things that make us human - Family, Art, and Literary Expression - so effortlessly.

So, I really am not a technophile. But I can't help but be aware of how technology has made the world a more interesting, enjoyable, and, yes, human, place.

A quick post

2008-06-03T02:44:00.003-05:00

I posted something on my LJ - if you don't have the URL and would like it, email me - but I just wanted to make a quick note.

I've been overdosing on music lately. I'm getting a new cellphone - one with an MP3 player, in fact - and I've been ripping a few of my cd's I don't already have ripped so I can load them on it.

I've forgotten just HOW GOOD John Williams' music for the original Star Wars trilogy was. Or why I own all the recordings.

Also. My birthday is Monday. Anyone who wants to hang out, get in touch. Am wanting much niceness of party :)

Pretentiousness

2008-05-25T11:58:00.001-05:00

Pretentiousness is disliking opera but loving Wagner, and feeling justified because "after all, Wagner is Musikdrama...."

Place-blogging

2008-05-13T17:21:00.001-05:00

I don’t think that Huntsville’s going to feel like home anytime soon. Perhaps that’s as it should be: I never intended to settle here, even when there was someone here I was planning to be with. Still, there are a few things to recommend the city, and if I must have my life shipwrecked and then be tossed unceremoniously on shore somewhere, there are much worse places.

I’m at Big Spring Park (again). I’ve blogged about it before. It’s a gorgeous day and I refuse, point blank, to go home and surround myself by the entombing four walls of the familiar when there is so much else to see. (Since you’ve asked, I’m including a picture. Have I mentioned that I have a thing for clouds?)

I was half-tempted to go to Monte Sano State Park and do some writing there. I opted not to, for a couple of reasons. In the first place, it costs money to go up there; it is, after all, a state park. For another, there’s no wi-fi there. Not a huge reason but having wifi has its perks. For a third, it is a bit of a hoof, and already being 5 PM, I’m not sure I want to go there for just an hour or so. Finally, perhaps the real reason, it’s still lousy with memories of her. Maybe one day. Just not yet.

But I was driving around a bit before getting here. Huntsville, unlike Birmingham, is small enough to be relatively self-contained. You can get the entire range of the Huntsville experience and not drive more than, oh, 20 minutes. Unlike Tallahassee, which is similar in size, it has both topography and character. And of course, multiple park locations with free wi-fi….

I’ll probably start, since it seems like a fun thing to do, blogging about these places in the near future. It will give me a reason to expand my slowly-widening circle of haunts, and give me a decent excuse to go out exploring, something I’ve never really before been tempted to do. So, expect some place-blogging in the future. This will be fun!

This is funny...

2008-05-08T22:21:00.001-05:00

Hillary Clinton is the Democratic Party's Psycho Ex-Girlfriend...

It's only ironic if you think about it

2008-05-05T18:52:00.003-05:00

Why do Americans celebrate Cinco de Mayo?

Because we're a nation of German and Irish Immigrants.

More Outdoor Blogging!

2008-05-04T17:40:00.006-05:00

At Big Spring Park again, on the other side of the street. Different look over here. Lots of shade, people on blankets - it's Sunday afternoon, after all.

There's a group of people - out on the far side across the bridge, just beyond the picture - on drums and other indigenous percussion instruments, banging out a tribal tattoo to which a belly dancer has been dancing.

There's nothing quite like this in Birmingham; this city's not a bad place to be this time of year....

Of Math, Geekdom, Comics, and Sex

2008-05-04T17:24:00.005-05:00

I nearly wrote a blog about Paul Erdős once.

That statement in itself is almost a half-joke.

(I still remember what I would have blogged about, had I actually written the blog in the first place. In fact, this is inspiration to go ahead and blog about it in the near future.)

A friend of mine long ago introduced me to xkcd: A webcomic of romance, sarcasm, math, and language. I don't read it nearly as often as I should. I have a couple other friends who also read it - given the subject matter, it would be hard not to love it. The thing is, it is brainier and geekier than any of my friends can probably appreciate: this isn’t a knock on my friends; it’s just that I am deficient in having friends who are mathematicians.

Though there are numerous mathematics in-jokes in the comic – and please don’t let that scare you from reading the comic: it is easily one of the most clever, smart, charming, and even heartwarming comics out there – there is one particular case in point that inspired this post. Needless to say, it has something to do with Paul Erdős, (pronounced Air-dish) the late mathematician who was the most prolific in history.

The title is Convincing Pickup Line. A girl and a guy are sitting at a table. The girl is showing him something on a piece of paper and trying to convince the guy that they should get together. “We’re a terrible match,” she says. “But if we sleep together, it’ll make the local hookup network a symmetric graph,” to which he responds: “I can’t argue with that.”

A little bit more about Erdős: because he was so prolific, and, more importantly, had so many collaborators, he constitutes a unifying thread among mathematicians. Just like Bacon numbers link actors according to how many movies it takes to link them, through co-stars, to Kevin Bacon, mathematicians have Erdős numbers that depend on how many papers it takes to link them to Erdős, either directly or through collaborators. Having written one with Erdős himself gives you a number of 1, having written one with one of his direct collaborators gives you a number of 2, etc.

Mathematicians are a weird bunch. Not only do they maintain their lists of Erdős numbers, take pride in their low numbers, etc., they even discuss the network of mathematicians who have collaborated at various removes with Erdős as a mathematical object itself! One mathematician once published a paper on the Erdős number network, noting that if two particular mathematicians within it published a paper together, the network would have an interesting mathematical property. The sappy conclusion to that story is that the two mathematicians did indeed decide to collaborate, in order to give the network that property.

While only a mathophile is likely to be familiar with that story, it doesn’t take a geek to figure that it served as the inspiration for the comic. I’m willing to bet that even my friends who like xkcd are unfamiliar with that story. But what I found most amusing was the rollover caption for the strip, one that I didn’t notice for a while because of a glitch that keeps it from appearing in Firefox, but which confirmed that that story was indeed the inspiration for the comic:

“Check it out; I've had sex with someone who's had sex with someone who's written a paper with Paul Erdős!”

And since it might somehow be tangentially relevant to this post, I guess I should acknowledge that I once made out with a girl who’s had sex with Trent Reznor….

Mot Juste du Jour: Political Commentary Edition

2008-04-25T03:52:00.001-05:00

So it turns out that despite all the media handwringing over whether white guys would vote for a woman or a black, women and blacks ended up voting by and large for 'one of their own', while the white-guy vote was more evenly split than either.

Go figure.

Commenter #17 at Frank J's IMAO post on the Penn primary

This is probably a first...

2008-04-18T20:35:00.000-05:00

I'm outdoor blogging!

I have actually blogged while outside before, but usually that has been being just outside of an enclusure which housed the connection - e.g. at the outdoor cafe seating area at Books-a-Million, or on my own back porch, etc. Since I don't have EVDO, that has been my only option for out-of-doors surfing, browsing, blogging, and the like. Till now!

I'm sitting on a park bench at Big Spring Park here in Huntsville. It's quite a bit like Lake Ella down in Tallahassee - of course I'm not sure anyone in my readership is familiar with that lociation. I really need to get back in touch with my old buddies from FSU....

They say you have to subscribe to get wifi after a free trial period. Of course, the login screen doesn't give you any info about it AND there's no way to get BACK to the login screen once you're up and running. So... hmm. Curious how this is all going to turn out.

And here comes a crowd of clueless teenagers. I swear, I was never that stupid.

Ah, people. Yes, I know, I need to stop being such an arrogant, elitist, misanthropic snob. I'm working on it, I swear. In the meantime...

Nice pond. Nice ducks. Nice stiff breeze, nice overcast weather. Icky tree sap on my screen but its apparently water-soluble.

Anywho, I thought I would say hello. This IS sort of a new experience and I'm going to enjoy it so there. Thought I would share the love.

Oooh. And since I just happen to have my digicam with me, I figured I would upload a picture of my from from whence I sit, as well. Isn't this neat?

Enjoy!

Update:
Same picture, 2 hours later!

This is just perverse...

2008-03-31T16:56:00.000-05:00

Now, I'm all about over-the-top eating, but this is just too effin' much.

A donut-bebunned bacon, egg, and cheeseburger.

Apparently the guys who posted this link have a series of all the ways in which Paula Deen is trying to kill us with fatty foods.

Read the comments. The article is fine but some of those comments, well, I haven't laughed that hard at something I read online in a very long while....

Yikes. I KNOW that I posted a blog about this a long time ago, but since I CAN'T EFFIN FIND THE POST, so I'll just, ya know, link again, to the article on The Worst Breakfast Ever.

Enjoy!

Update:
I just reread the Worst Breakfast Ever post. Read it now. It is seriously one of the funniest things I have ever read, and I was guffawing just from hitting 2 or 3 of the highlights.

Mot Juste du Jour: I'm a Compleat Nerd edition

2008-03-30T06:22:00.000-05:00

From Andrew Plotkin:

"If you already know what recursion is, just remember the answer. Otherwise, find someone who is standing closer to Douglas Hofstadter than you are; then ask him or her what recursion is."

From the Wikipedia entry on Recursion

The world has lost a true treasure

2008-03-18T18:12:00.000-05:00

Arthur C. Clarke has died.

Mot Juste du Jour: St. Patrick's Day Edition

2008-03-17T15:30:00.000-05:00

I'm more like a beer evangelist. "Have you heard the Good News? Beer is Good!"

My beer connoisseur friend Daniel

Randomly Musing Musical Reflection

2008-03-16T18:35:00.000-05:00

I dislike Mozart.

No, really. I mean, I am perfectly willing to acknowledge that, yes, he was probably the greatest musical talent who ever lived, and one of the three greatest composers of all time. But despite the undisputed beauty and excellence of much of his work, too much of it comes across to me as the classical version of bubblegum-pop for me to take it seriously.

The sum total of Mozart albums I own is the Amadeus soundtrack, and my second favorite track on that is by Pergolesi.

Furthermore, I HATE opera. I mean... geez. First, there is something about the individual human voice that I dislike as a musical instrument. An ensemble, a small chorus, a large choir, that's fine - but anything smaller than a quartet just sounds like... an unintelligible conversation gone wrong. Then, I can never understand the words. This isn't just opera, here - I don't listen to contemporary music, in part (in part because 99.44% of it is CRAP, but also ) because I'm so intent on listening to the music - the melodic lines, harmonic progression, overall structure - that the semantics just get lost in a sensory and cognitive jumble. And don't get me STARTED on "why should I get caught up in old-time ridiculous plotlines"....

Which makes the following admission all the more... remarkable.

I'm currently suffering from an obsession, something that just will not leave my brain alone. The Commentadore Scene at the end of Don Giovanni is one of the single most thrilling pieces of music of all time.

A day that will live in...

2008-03-14T15:22:00.000-05:00

well, infamy is definitely not the right word to use here.

Happy Pi Day, for those of you Mathematics Geeks out there in my readership. I always love Pi Day - being aware of it is definitely a Geek thing to do.

MORE IMPORTANTLY:

I am pleased to announce the birth of my third (insert nonexistent gender-neutral English word for child of a sibling).

Addison Faith Caro was born around 1:00 AM on Friday March 14th, 2008.

Congratulations to my brother and sister-in-law, Jesse and Kelly. And of course I'm thrilled to have a new niece!

And now something else to remember on this date....

Random Gourmetage

2008-03-14T15:15:00.000-05:00

I'm not usually one for gratuitous acts of capsaicin poisoning; that said, the new Hardee's Jalapeno Thickburger was pretty outstanding.

UPDATE:

What my tongue enjoyed at 3:00 PM my innards most definitely did not at 5:00 AM....

Why We're There

2008-03-14T13:20:00.001-05:00

I don't usually blog about the War (I don't usually blog, but that's another issue entirely) but this article on CNN.com just struck me rather forcibly.

For those who did oppose the invasion, do oppose the occupation, and desire and immediate withdrawal, I can only say that if stories like this don't make you at least question the wisdom of your position, I don't know what can.

The torturing monsters referred to in the article are Saddam and his minions, whom we deposed. The murderous animals referred to, targeting Iraqis, are the al-Qaeda-in-Iraq terrorists: these aren't freedom fighters trying to make life better for the average Iraqi, but totalitarian militants who don't want them to determine their own fates but to impose a medieval way of life upon them.

In other words, had we not gone in, the tortures would no doubt be continuing. If we left, the murders would no doubt escalate - inevitably, because a) al-Qaeda would be freed up from targeting our troops, and have the additional manpower, to then b) fulfill their explicitly stated goal of imposing a Caliphate on Iraq. Do you really think they would get there without killing enough of the population to cower them into submission?

I don't mean to make this a political post, but this is also why I will not vote for Obama: because he's already stated that the inevitability of genocide that would result from our withdrawal - and make no bones about it, that is precisely what will happen if we do - is not a sufficient reason for us to stay there.

Anyway, I could ramble on. I'll just quote the article, and let you draw your own conclusions.

'Signs of Torture' You Can't Imagine

The pain here is choking -- it's a dark, suffocating sorrow.
"They took my husband away in front of me. I found his body in the morgue a few days later. He had multiple bullet wounds and his eyes had been gouged out," one woman tells me, forcefully twisting a tissue in her hands as if it somehow could ease her agony and erase the chilling memory.
She didn't want her story told, too afraid that she would meet the same fate as the man she loved.
Her husband's body bore the "signs of torture." How many times has that phrase been used? It's such a common phrase it's as if what really happened gets glossed over: skin scraped off their bodies, fingernails ripped out, horrifying screams of pain before death.
How many times have we reported death tolls from one horrific bombing or another and not been able to get across that these are lives that literally were blown apart? No matter how hard we in the media try, Iraq remains a nation filled with untold tragedies, the scope of which so often is overwhelming.
And no matter how hard Iraqis try to shield themselves and those they love from the horrors here, more often than not they fail. Yet they keep fighting. See the sacrifices of Iraq's women »
Nahla works at a radio station and is one of those women. She's tall, slender, elegantly dressed and has a firm handshake. I look at her and it's nearly impossible to imagine what she's been through.

"This numbers game, you always think that you are exempt from the numbers," Nahla tells me, referring to the daily death toll. "You're pained by them, but you are outside of them." Watch Nahla's struggle to live on »
On April 14, 2007, her world shattered. There was an explosion on a bridge in the capital and 10 people were killed. Her husband, Mohammed, was one of them.
"And with it, I am motionless," she says. "Truly, life was in color and now it is in black and white. I feel like it is a game of musical chairs we used to play with others. ... One time you are hit with the chair; another time, someone else is. Now, my son and I are out of the game completely, completely."
The image of the man she loved, tall and proud, is of a doctor who moved his family back to Iraq after the fall of Saddam Hussein because he believed his country needed him. He was a father who doted on their 6-year-old autistic son.
Also etched into her memory is the image of his charred body, melted together with nine others, a twisted pile of black, scorched flesh.
Yet Nahla's voice is calm as she speaks, only breaking at the very end of our conversation, when the pain, buried so deep, rises to the surface. She couldn't suppress her gut-wrenching dry sobs.
I don't know how many times I have heard stories like hers after nearly five years of war here, and yet I still get chills. I can't stop being in awe -- nor can I stop looking at these women in amazement. Life in Iraq has forced people to confront horror that would leave many of us paralyzed. Watch a divorcee forced to live amid squalor with her kids »
Where do they find the strength to keep going?
Some don't and choose to live out their lives as hollow shells, just waiting for this wretched existence to be over. But so many others refuse to be beaten down, refuse to allow the horror that is Iraq to win and kill their spirit.
"If I want to see Baghdad again from before the war, I have to do my part while the other person will do his part and the other person will do his part," says Dr. Eaman, a children's doctor, as her bright smile seems to shine unnaturally in Baghdad's grim atmosphere.
"This is the dream, and I wish everybody would believe it and it will happen, I'm sure, and this is what is keeping me here," she continues. "I have been attacked by three insurgents and was going to be kidnapped."
She now lives at the hospital, choosing to disassociate herself from her 8-year-old son to keep him safe. Watch why "I must help my people" »
"I wish I can have him with me, live with me, you know, raising him, and just show him how to do things more than anything else," Eaman says as she laughs and apologizes for her tears. She knows she chose to live with that pain because she believes other children need her more.
"Iraq is my life, is my country. Being a woman and knowing what other [countries] look like, I want to make a change. I want to make a change for the future for a lot of people."
Yanar is another fighter, petite with curly dark hair and a commanding presence.
"You have been beaten, pushed, kicked and blindfolded," Yanar says, describing today's Iraqi woman. "You cannot see, you cannot hear, but you are kicking back. It's not OK to be like that. You kick back and you fight for what you deserve ... you should not be turned into a prisoner."
She started the Organization for Women's Freedom in Iraq to act as a watchdog to help safeguard women's rights amid war and conflict. She is another woman who exhibits jaw-dropping courage. Go inside Iraq with CNN's Arwa Damon »
She left her family and her comfortable life in Canada and came to Baghdad to build growing support for women's rights. She lives a life that at times sounds more like a James Bond movie -- having to constantly move because of death threats -- than that of a mother of a 9-year-old.
"At many stages I had to change my house so my address is a secret; nobody knows where I am other than 10 very close allies," Yanar says nonchalantly, as if what she is saying is completely normal. But in Iraq it is -- it's a country where a person's parameters of what they accept as being "normal" have to shift to survive.
"What brings me here," Yanar says, "it is that everybody that I love, all the people that I love have been crushed."
She adds, "This cannot happen, should not happen, cannot be allowed to happen."
What we as journalists cannot allow to happen is for these voices to go unheard. No matter how hard it is for us to find them -- literally navigating roadblocks and checkpoints or spending days chasing down someone -- the voices of the innocents caught in war must be heard.

Mot Juste du Jour - The "Aren't I Clever" edition

2008-02-22T14:46:00.000-06:00

I suffer from a severe case of ectothelemia.

Mot Juste du Jour - Back from the Dead edition

2008-02-20T16:44:00.001-06:00

Me: Everyone needs a classics major ex- (or current) girlfriend.

Her: That's cause we're awesome and totally hot.

Conversation betwixt me and my classics-major ex-girlfriend.

Life, or something like it

2007-11-19T17:41:00.000-06:00

I have 10 minutes. Make it count. ~~15 if I absolutely need it.~~

Being successful is like juggling five balls in the air at once. I’ve never managed to do that, either.

My lack of motivation is killing me. My lack of organization is killing me (q.v. generals). My lack of focus is killing me. My addictive personality is killing me. My insistence on suffering the wounds of the past is killing me. My lack of openness, to my own possibilities and to the wants and needs of others, is killing me.

I need to finish my dissertation.

I need to become a good polysomnography technician and an enthusiastic employee.

I need to become better organized, better focused, better motivated. I need to determine what it is I want, what it’s going to take to get it, and – and this is the important part – go about to actually getting around to, you know, doing it.

I need to repair a badly damaged relationship with an absolutely wonderful, beautiful woman whom I’m insisting on driving away by letting myself stay stuck in the tired insecurities, depression, and apathy of my previous life.

I need to get over my psychological hang-ups and my repressed close-mindedness that has tunneled me into a cave of immobility and fear. I need to remember what it is to LIVE, to enjoy and relish my life, my choices, my being, and to stride confidently into the future.

I need to take much better care of my health. I need to value who I am as a person, including my body, and take care of it appropriately. I need to care enough about who I am, and what I want, to care about being there to live it.

I need to get my career underway. I need to look for a better job, write my ideas, envision myself and embody myself the creative thinker-writer I know myself to be. I need to care enough (an important refrain) about loving the things that I love, that that love moves me to be.

I need to be concrete. Specific. These are the tasks I have set for myself. All of it falls under the scope of “determining what I want, how to get it, and then do it.” Organization is not the key but it is an important one. I must remember: remember myself, remember my goals, remember my path, remember to prepare.

And above all, remember others.

Thoughts on 9-11

2007-09-12T07:43:00.000-05:00

On the First of June of this year, I visited ground zero.

I found myself overwhelmed by the experience. I felt. I felt… sadness. I felt rage. I felt more than I could possibly describe – there were no words, no ideas, no concepts…. The rage was not exactly formless, shapeless, aimless; but it sure as hell wasn’t articulate.

I have to admit that I was not expecting the feelings I had. Not expecting to be mute as to those feelings. Not expecting not to know what was going through my mind. I am a horribly introspective person: not understanding myself is about the most uncomfortable experience, psychologically, I can endure. I stood at ground zero, fighting back tears for people I didn’t know, sealing off and pushing down rage about a crime committed nearly six years before.

I hardly noted today’s (I work nights, so, even though it is, technically, 9-12, upon waking up, just a few hours ago, it was 9-11) anniversary: I pondered the run-up to today, I watched part of a special on the History Channel, I was aware of the date and what happened on it. It was very… detached, however, very impersonal; and until I read a blog reminding me to be angry about what happened, I had not even made the connection of today’s date with my experiences on the First of June.

We are at War. I honestly do not understand those of my friends and acquaintances who do not understand that. Forget “American meddling in the MidEast” or “no blood for oil!” or “Saddam didn’t cause 9-11” or “War is not the answer.” Forget platitudes or simplistic reasoning or overly sophisticated reasoning. Forget “violence is never justified” or “one man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom-fighter.”

Being at ground zero was like a psychological punch to the gut. It wasn’t something that I could intellectualize, something I could think or analyze away. Simply remembering what happened on this date has had little effect on me, but looking back over the pictures I took bring me back, remind me what this is all about.

They. HATE. Us. Over three thousand of us, three thousand friends, relatives, brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, sons, daughters – three thousand of our flesh and blood, of yours, of mine – they DISAPPEARED from that very spot – because they hate the way we live, and because they find it acceptable to destroy us because we do not live as they do.

I, personally, do not mind how they live their lives, and I certainly do not have any desire to see them die; but they want to kill ME, and that is unacceptable. They want to destroy those who live this way of life, and in that I will not allow them to succeed. We had better be angry, we had better care about what they do, what they’ve done, what they want to do now, because if we do not, then they will win. They care, and if we don’t, they will, inevitably, win.

So I find the words of David Rusin resonating strongly with me. I’ve forgotten, not what happened, but how I’m supposed to feel because of it. Because if I stop caring, if I stop wanting to win…

how can I blame others for not wanting to win in the first place?

Public Service Announcement: Sony Vaio Customer Service

2007-07-06T17:18:00.000-05:00

Since this is an illustration of the Army of David's principle, and I wouldn't mind Megan McArdle noticing me, and since this is the kind of lunacy that really gets my goat, I figured I would let you read about McArdle's recent and miserable experience with Sony's Customer Service.

Share this with someone you love.

It's been a while....

2007-06-12T17:41:00.000-05:00

I had some ideas this morning.

Well afternoon. You guys know I don't actually wake up till 2:00 PM right?

Didn't write them down. A few here and there. I'm feeling kind of mellow today. Haven't actually accomplished all that much.

Which isn't, exactly, true. Given that I usually accomplish pretty much exactly nothing, and I've actually performed errands today....

Me and metaphysics? Right, like that's ever going to happen. I'm feeling less and less relentless, and philosophical, every day. Evil, EVIL complacency bug. But I'm not really feeling complacent.

Or am I?

What's really scary is that I'm becoming less and less introspective by the minute.

Well, actually, that's not true, either.

There was something... and... there it is.

Once again, I know what I ~~need~~ want to do; I am just not going about doing it.

I need good friends to keep me on my toes and keep my mind going....

Mot Juste du Nuit

2007-05-21T03:33:00.000-05:00

You can take the teacher out of the classroom, but you can't take the classroom out of the teacher.

On affairs of love...

2007-05-12T21:05:00.000-05:00

He came to resent second place, with a loathing fervor that could only be understood by one who had spent a lifetime as a runner-up.

Mot Juste du Jour: Complete Stranger edition

2007-05-09T07:14:00.000-05:00

Mind you, the context is a dense blog posting over at Protein Wisdom about the MSM (Main Stream Media)'s complicity in creating an environment where a majority of polled members of a certain major political party (I'll give you a hint: they control Congress) believe that Bush was in on the 9/11 attacks.

Somewhere in the comments section someone made this little jewel, explaining why Socialist Dogma is still prevalent in the MSM today. Pay attention to the second sentence:

It is not your fault is a real easy sell, especially in a capitalist economy. The reason I am a polytheist is only a committee could be this ironic.

Kudos to B Moe for the most entertaining sentence I've read in ages.

The world is populated by idiots....

2007-04-06T18:48:00.000-05:00

"I think one of the things that make me funny is that I'm a deep thinker. The over-analysis of everything: that's why I can pull stuff together that's so humorous."

Comment overheard in coffeeshop by idiot talking to a girl he's trying to impress

Mot Just du Jour: Guest Blogger Edition

2007-03-30T16:50:00.000-05:00

"Isn't wikia the upcoming merger between Nintendo's Wii division and Kia motors?"

My somewhat bizarre friend James

Hot damn!

2007-03-30T16:24:00.000-05:00

Check out Helium today.

I'm not sure how often they update it, so, check it out here as well:

AmericaPhobia

2007-03-30T09:24:00.000-05:00

Damn straight.

From: Dean's World

Hat tip: Instapundit

Americaphobia: Final Thoughts

Dean

I have not yet had a chance to read Ali's latest, or really anything else on the Dean's World front page today. I've been too busy. But I've had all day to think about this and I'm going to lay out something I've been thinking for a long time:

It's very hard for me to look at American Muslims, or Muslims in general, or anyone who considers themselves "liberal" or "progressive" or "humanist," who claim to stand for freedom and human rights and then attack everything America has done and tried to do in Iraq over the last four years.

The fact is that the naysayers claimed we weren't really striving for liberation. We were. They claimed we'd install a new puppet dictator. We did not. They claimed that we wouldn't really try to set up a democracy. We did. They claimed there would be no legitimate elections. The Iraqis had three national elections in a row, all certified as legitimate by international observers, not even counting the local elections that were held before that.

They claimed we'd do everything possible to get out of the country "before the next elections"--they claimed that before the 2004 elections and again before the 2006 elections. It didn't happen. Now these same people in many cases are cheering for a Congress that's trying to force us out of Iraq even though the war supporters consistently say "no, that would be morally and strategically wrong."

Time after time the naysayers have proven themselves both morally and intellectually incoherent, and yet they never have the introspection to acknowledge this.

Furthermore, anyone calling himself a "liberal" or a "humanist"--Muslim or not--is in my view faced with a stark choice:

You either sit around pretending that a vicious, murderous, fascist "insurgency" that routinely cuts people's heads off and shoots children in the face is the "legitimate voice of the Iraqi people," or you recognize that there is in Iraq a government elected by the Iraqi people working under a Constitution written entirely by Iraqis that recognizes human rights better than any in the Arab world.

No matter how many reservations you have about how it was done or how imperfectly that elected government implements the ideals expressed in that ratified Constitution.

If you take the former position you have no business calling yourself a liberal or a progressive or a humanist. If you take the latter position, then maybe you have to swallow the bitter pill that someone named George Bush, whom you don't like and maybe think is incompetent, was the instigator of something that damn well needs to be supported.

But you can't have it both ways. Indeed, by declaring the whole thing illegitimate, all you're doing is siding with the Islamophobes of the world who claim the Muslims and the Arabs are far too savage, backward, and primitive to respect things like democracy and human rights. Indeed, you're implicitly siding the the Jihadwatch crowd.

It's high time someone told you people this, whether you're Muslims or not.

The progressive, humanist position is not, and never has been, the "anti-war" position.

Tristan und Isolde

2007-03-27T08:20:00.000-05:00

For those of you who may be uneducated, I'm talking about this, not this.

The Prelude is justly famous for throwing out the harmonic rulebook used by musicians for three hundred years - somewhere there is a quote referring to it as the bellwether of the decline of Western Civilization. (A free dinner to the person who finds me that quote, btw)

But it really is the Liebestod that... well...

Wow.

I hadn't listened to it in quite some time. I was at work, had brought the CD with me.

It is...

Let's just say that, about another piece of music, a conductor I knew, on an occasion at which I was not present, stated that religious ecstasy was close kin to sexual ecstasy... and that the climax of the Musikdrama is - intentionally, deliberately, and in the context of the story, literally - ecstatic.

An unusually patriotic film review

2007-03-17T04:22:00.000-05:00

As an American, I take great pride in the actions of King Leonidas and his 300 Spartans at Thermopylae.

What? As an American? Greek-American, you mean? As someone of Greek descent, surely.

Of course I am someone of Greek descent. I’m an American.

Well, not all Americans are of Greek descent, unless, of course, you had immigrant ancestors, right?

Ah. You mean blood descent.

Yes! So you had ancestors from Greece, then.

Well, not that I know of. Possibly, but it would have to have been way back.

I’m confused; what are you talking about??

I’m an American; America herself is a child of Greece.

America is a child of England, if anyone.

Well yes; England, too, is a child of Greece.

Huh?

All of Europe, really.

I had an interesting experience watching 300. My history-student roommate filled me on some of the details that were botched (well, elided really) in the movie. For the most part I was rather pleased with Frank Miller’s story. I felt just a little annoyed by the Queen’s speech in front of the council, how much she repeated the theme of liberty, freedom; but I had no problem with the theme as it threaded throughout the entire movie.

Sure, it’s romantic historical revisionism; sure, Sparta was one of the cruelest societies to ever develop; but it was the blood of Sparta that kept Greece alive.

Greece. The birthplace of Socrates, Plato, Aristotle; of natural philosophy; of natural science; of the citizen and democracy; the study of ethics and politics. Miller’s Leonidas has it right, and it was the Spartans who protected the birthplace of Liberty.

Greece, grandmother to Europe, ancestress of Western civilization.

It was an excellent movie. It was a martial movie, extolling all of the virtues of martial prowess: awareness, strength, ferocity, temperance, reason. But above all, the single most important virtue of all: indomitability.

I’ve been reading a science fiction book lately (yeah, where’s the news in that) which is set on a libertarian planet: minimum government, no restrictions on weapons, sexual activity (including prostitution), business activity, etc. It’s a very polite and safe society. One character in the book, when describing how a native friend of his needs to coddle another character, who is a recent migrant from Earth, describes it as “The first truly free human society in history.” In the context of the quote, that other character has just made a mistake as a result of which she has ended up hurting herself: she is not ready to be completely free, because, not having grown up that way, she is not yet ready to assume absolute, complete responsibility.

Responsibility: the other side of the coin from freedom; united by the concept of will. What comes back to me, for which I am responsible, is what I have willed; what I have willed is what I was free to do. I do not know that Spartans died for the philosophical ideals of Athens, and I do not know how democratic their society was. But I suspect that the taste of the freedom, and responsibility, that democracy brings did motivate Greeks; it had allowed their society to flourish as none other in the world had, and they had no desire to give that up.

“Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and of slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty, or give me death!” Patrick Henry’s words echo down through America’s paltry two centuries of history; Miller has Sparta’s Leonidas proclaiming such a sentiment twenty-two centuries early.

But the Greeks surely felt it. Impressive as the warriors of Sparta no doubt were, they could count, and they could reason; they had to know how impressive the armies of Persia were. And certainly, a mere 300 could barely have expected to live long in the onslaught brought on by its swarms.

The Persians must have felt so, too. There are a number of amusingly scenes that are historically ironic, though I cannot doubt that they reflect something that might have actually occurred. Xerxes is telling Leonidas that his army will eradicate all of Greece; that the name of Leonidas, and the story of his Spartans will be erased from history.

I was astonished that I was the only one in the theater who actually laughed.

The Greeks had to know that there’s was a society that was unique in its makeup, a grand experiment in government of the people, for the people, and by the people. And they had to believe it was a way of life worth protecting, motivated by self-determination they had created for themselves, and refusing to give an inch of their way of life away.

Miller very much celebrates the Spartans. At one point his queen utters words that come almost embarrassingly close to the phrase “freedom isn’t free”; his characters know full well that their way of life is something better than what they could have under Persian rule; and they know that it is worth sacrificing even their lives for it.

It’s hard to imagine Miller as a liberal.

Patrick Henry words may have been heartfelt, but it is no doubt that the founding fathers were intimately familiar with John Locke, the British philosopher who clearly articulated a theory of individual rights and personal responsibility. As the first country explicitly founded on such principles, we are now, were then, the truest children of Greece, and the finest testament that history remembered the sacrifice of the Spartans.

We, more so than anyone else in the world exemplify what the Greeks so courageously fought to defend. Colin Powell said it best when addressing the United Nations: The United States may in fact be a young country; but we are also the oldest democracy in the world. We were made possible by Greece; we are their intellectual and moral descendents; and our society, our country, descended from them, strives more mightily than all her other children to honor the inheritance we have received from them.

And that is why, as an American, I feel a great patriotic pride, in the actions of Leonidas and his 300.

A Celtic retreat?

2007-03-11T16:06:00.000-05:00

For some reason, lately, I've been noticing brunettes more and more.

It might possibly be a matter of habituation; in fact, given the subject matter, it probably is. Think about it: if the allure of redheads is their rarity, but for the past, oh, 5 years or so, I've dialed in on them like a shark on blood (now, there's a lovely image) then, yeah, maybe I'm starting to notice more than just hair these days.

I still go for the pale girls, I'll say that. And freckles are still mighty fetching.

But what I said in that previous post, about brunettes, in general, being more beautiful...

Lately, that's what's been catching my attention.

Are Great Men Ever Really Good?

2007-03-11T04:15:00.000-05:00

"Is Peter Wiggin a good man?"

Petra shrugged. "Are great men ever really good? I know they can be, but we judge them by a different standard. Greatness changes them, whatever they were to start with. It's like war - does any war ever settle anything? But we can't judge that way. The test of a war isn't whether it solved things. You have to ask, Was fighting the war better than not fighting it: And I guess the same kind of test ought to be used on great men."

From Shadow of the Giant, by Orson Scott Card

I am, functionally, I suppose, a narcissist.

Not quite solipsistic: I do believe in the existence of other minds, of independent consciousnesses other than my own; though, I confess, often my actions quite often are consistent with the notion that I discount their importance.

I won’t bother making excuses for who I am; it is who I am: and quite enough moralizers who would look at my utter selfishness are the selfsame individuals who marginalized me, during my formative years, to the extent that I had, truly, no one to turn to but myself. (Ironically enough, it’s also true that, starved for any degree of acceptance, from any external source, my emotional development became stunted through an inability to look to myself for approval.) I am a product, and I must accept that: and I accept that my self-centeredness is indeed crippling. There have been a number of occasions when I found myself unable to approach, and properly be attentive to, people I truly care about. I too often don’t know how to escape my own skull, and it is difficult to realize that

OSC’s opinion of greatness (that is, great individuals) is perhaps more balanced, more nuanced, more insightful than almost anyone else’s that I know. Unlike Nietzsche, who glorifies greatness as the one true and proper end of mankind (though, admittedly, he paradoxically recognizes that it is only through moving above – “over” – the mass of humanity that greatness can be ascertained) Card is clearly ambivalent. Greatness is necessary, but it is not self-evidently good: that is not the kind of measure by which it is judged. Indeed, for Card, the good seems to be identified with the almost prosaic, the ordinary; however you may deem his conservative views on social issues such as homosexual marriage, it is consistent with his overall picture of society and the role of the family as the proper place for a human to live his or (and!) her life.

Thus, there is a tension between those who shape the world, and those who live in it. His greatest characters, in fact, are the ones who, like Cincinnatus, accomplish their great feats, and then return to the quiet life of the everyday. Obviously I cannot speak authoritatively of his world view, but I suspect that he finds permanent overachievers – the Michael Jordan’s and Donald Trump’s of the world – to be in some sense unbalanced and incomplete, having missed out on what is really important to a person , as a human, by sacrificing it to the altar of accomplishment.

Tonight, I had the pleasure of running into another old friend, whom I have not seen in a long time. He is one of the few people I know that I can unqualifiedly describe as being more intelligent than myself, and he is also an impressive musical talent to boot. And like me, he has wandered in the wilderness of uncertainty as to how to live his life, how to accomplish his own personal work. He is a musician, first and foremost – embracing a path that I myself turned my back – but, more importantly, he is someone with something to say, something worth listening to.

He was not expecting me: we lost touch six months or so ago, and I only discovered he had a gig tonight purely by accident. But afterward we had a very good conversation, though for much of the time I was around, I was waiting in the wings. See, he has his friends, his peers, his network; and I don’t quite know how to throw myself into groups of people I don’t already know. My – I wouldn’t exactly call it shyness, but perhaps social insecurity is a better term – around strangers is a matter of great personal frustration to me. But as I was… standing off, seeing his friends and associates congregate – mind you, with the exception of two people, I had no previous connection to any of them, and those two were, honestly, little more than little more than acquaintances – it dawned on me that I was approaching the situation all wrong.

I was being too nice.

I’m not really adept at being breezily sociable. My formative years have made sure of that: I learned so much at the hands of my nice (read: close-minded, provincial, and insular) friends (read: acquaintances I had the misfortune of being associated with due to the circumstances of my life) that I never had time to learn how to relate to others. But I am decent at being self-interestedly manipulative: I’ll never be as Machiavellian as Richard Hatch – and quite frankly, being non-empathetic is a liability when it comes to motivating people – but I can maneuver people toward ends that are my own if I feel it sufficiently important.

Honestly, I haven’t done anything like that in a very long time; and even then I was motivated to such action by anger, and it was more a whisper campaign than anything else. But I remembered that I could do it, and that, by gum, if I wasn’t going to effortlessly slip into a crowd of people for the purpose of actually making friends, I could at least be mercenary enough to be charming for the purpose of making contacts. And that was what I realized, that I no longer had to hold myself hostage to my inability to make friends easily and naturally, because I didn’t have to think of people I might meet as potential friends: I could think of them as assets, and simply treat them accordingly.

And that, honestly, was an incredible revelation to me.

If you haven’t heard me rant about the myths of modern dating (the first of which is the claim that women “like nice guys” – a fact which, as a recovering nice guy, I can most emphatically contradict) you will probably understand much of my deep-seated anger better by doing so. But there has been a bit of an inconsistency in me, which this situation brought to my attention. Whereas I have discarded the misguided inclination to “be nice” in the area of romantic relationships – and in other areas, beside – I have failed to take the lesson completely to heart.

I have failed to realize that if I am ever to accomplish, I must learn to unleash that which is aggressive, opportunistic, and predatory within me. I must learn the value of ruthlessness.

I must embrace the inherent wickedness of greatness.

I realize it is… almost sheer hubris to reflect upon myself in an essay about greatness, but the simple fact of the matter is that my (inescapably) self-conscious musings are couched in the context of my own personal evolution. As I have already mentioned, I do not view my narcissism as an unqualified good; there is a high price to it that is exacted often enough to be debilitating. But it is also an intrinsic part of who, of what, I am; and for the purposes of bringing about much that I want to accomplish, it may even be an asset. But accomplishment is precisely the metric that is most relevant to my concerns right now; and learning that to attain accomplishment means to be driven, even to the point of discarding traits that others may find laudable – well, that is the price to pay to be myself.

On taking lessons to heart...

2007-03-10T19:41:00.000-06:00

Last night, I spent some time just shooting the breeze and with a very good friend. He and I have known each other for a long time, and when I lived in Tallahasee it was something we would do on occasion; it's been a while since we've done so, though, and not since I moved back to Birmingham. Lately, however, we have been spending more time together for various reasons; with his wife out of town, we sat back, smoked a couple of cigars, and just talked.

He's always been a friend that I could talk to about... the practicalities of life, about going where you are going, what you are doing, and how you are getting there; he's always been one of my more driven friends. In fact, the very reason we are spending more time together has something to do with me putting myself in a situation where I am surrounding myself with people who are driven, who have managed to succeed temporally.

I am a firm believer that, on occasion, things happen when they do because that is when they are supposed to happen. One of the "lessons" - the kind of practical, rubber-hits-the-road advice and wisdom that we are wont to discuss on occasion - that came up during our buss session, was the importance of networking. Interestingly enough, another friend of mine, whom I had not heard from in a year or so, both a) sent me information on an internet networking tool, which I had been at first willing to discount, and b) completely accidentally got in touch with me and then proceeded to tell me about how useful that tool was.

And yet. Last night, I came home, after being out with him, and then another friend, I had 4 hours to kill before it was time to turn in for the day.

And more or less wasted the entire time.

I am a firm believer in r, r&r - recovery, restoration, and recreation - but I know that rather than resting I tend to idleness; but I also believe that extraordinary results require, always require extraordinary effort. There's rest, and there's rest; there's never an excuse for wasted time.

I probably need to start taking up some sort of physical hobby. I really need to learn how to take unstructured time during which I have no intellectual energy, and turn it into useful work. Does anyone have any suggestions?

Mot Just du Jour: once more unto the breach

2007-03-09T17:22:00.000-06:00

What's the point in being alive, if you can't live your own life?

Don't get me wrong...

2007-03-03T19:14:00.000-06:00

I'm not in favor of operationalizing definitions, either teleologically (what you really want is determined by what you in fact receive) or functionally (what you really want is what one could reasonably expect from someone doing exactly what it is that you are doing). I'm willing to say what you want is, typically, what you want, and it is a purely internal affair, not at all to be determined in a behaviorist manner.

I just don't think most people actually know what it is that they really want. And that the state of affairs we find ourselves in is typically a fair reflection of what we want.

People who don't know, want to be ignorant. People who don't understand, want to be confused. People who don't do better than they are, don't want to work at making themselves better.

Or maybe I'm wasting time....

A frightening thought.

2007-03-03T15:03:00.002-06:00

What if we really do get exactly what we want?

A brief conversation:

2007-03-01T17:25:00.000-06:00

"I want to go run in the rain."

"I want to level a small village with heavy machine-gun fire."

IM exchange between me and an ex-girlfriend

The Crisis of the Islamo-Fascist War

2007-02-22T09:09:00.000-06:00

Since the essay out-and-out says that it should be shared, I don't think Card would mind that I did this.

But for those who want to original link, you can find it here:

http://www.ornery.org/essays/warwatch/2007-01-14-1.html

And yes, this is pretty much exactly my position on the war. Only, unlike Card, I'm a Libertarian, not a Democrat.

By Orson Scott Card January 14, 2007

President Bush is a genuinely awful speaker. Wouldn't it be a shame if we lost a war for the survival of western civilization because we had a President who reads his speeches in a dispassionate drone?
It's been interesting to watch the media respond to the speech. Not that many months ago, the media was reporting on the speeches of Democrats and other critics of the war, talking about how Bush's plan in Iraq had failed because we always needed "more boots on the ground."
None of them -- not even the generals who hated defense secretary Rumsfeld with such a passion that they violated the rule of civilian supremacy and lobbied in the press for Rumsfeld's removal -- had a single spark of a plan for how those guys in boots would have been used.
In fact, the number of troops was exactly appropriate for the mission they were assigned. In the effort to avoid a Vietnam-style situation where our troops were scattered in many vulnerable positions, we were instead using our soldiers to seek out and destroy enemy positions.
But because the Iraqi military did not progress to the point where they could reliably hold areas that our troops had cleared, the Iraqi civilians in the Sunni Triangle knew that if they cooperated with Americans in attacking the insurgent thugs that rule over them, the thugs would soon be back to retaliate.
So the strategy, which worked well through most of Iraq, was failing in the Baghdad and Anbar Province area. The failure was not because our troops were not doing what they were asked to do. Primarily, the failure was because the Iraqi government was responding to political pressures and concerns on the one hand, and our enemies had a nearly infinite source of reinforcement and supply, through Syria and Iran.
The new plan is one that requires more American troops and more effective Iraqi involvement. Our troops cannot fulfil this assignment alone -- the Iraqi Army and the Iraqi government have to want to succeed.
This is not a surprise. Success in Iraq has always required that an effective government take over its own defense.
Iraq Must Want to Succeed
The Iraqi people made it clear, with their courageous voting for their constitution and then for their new government that they want this to work. Our own government had hoped that this would be enough to discourage the insurgents -- and if it were a genuine insurgency, it almost certainly would have.
However, these "insurgents" are actually functioning as agents of two foreign powers -- Iran and Syria -- and any who might have been tempted to respect the clear choice of the Iraqi people would simply have been killed and replaced by their masters in Damascus and Tehran.
One thing we can count on: The thugs ruling the Sunni Triangle and Anbar province are fascists, ruling by terror, so that it is likely that substantial minorities, if not majorities, of the people in these areas are longing for them to be replaced by a decent government that respects human and civil rights.
If the Iraqi military does its job (for we know our soldiers will perform splendidly), this new strategy has a very good likelihood of success.
Keep in mind that most of the country of Iraq is functioning surprisingly well, despite the forays of terrorists into Shiite-majority and Kurdish-majority areas. The economy of most of Iraq is doing better than it ever was under Saddam; the people are far more free and, for the Shiites and Kurds at least, safer than before.
Furthermore, it is absolutely and obviously true that Bush is correct to say that most Shiites and Sunnis and Kurds want to live together in peace. They want to be about their ordinary lives; they want to be left alone.
But this new plan requires that they do their part to achieve this. America can't hand it to them; we can only open the door for them.
De-Baathification
One of the weaknesses of the new government has been the almost complete inexperience of the bureaucracy. Under Saddam, you couldn't hold any significant government job without joining the Baath party. The result was that the vast majority of nominal Baathists were just people doing their jobs.
When we took over and occupied Iraq, there was no way we could determine which Baathists were sincere believers, and therefore possible saboteurs or criminals. So, echoing the "de-Nazification" of Germany nearly sixty years earlier, most of the highly trained, experienced government officials were removed from office -- permanently.
This move was politically pleasing to the Shiite majority, who had been virtually shut out of all government functions. Government was the exclusive province of the Sunnis, under Saddam. So de-Baathification removed the hated Sunni overlords.
The trouble was, it also hurt the ability of the government to function. There is evidence that many functionaries in the interim government cynically stripped billions of dollars from Iraq's budget and then, when the elected government replaced them, skipped town to live in luxury abroad with their embezzled funds.
So the Iraqi people already had grounds for cynicism about new governments. Even if the elected government is sincere and incorruptible, the bureaucracy that serves them has been forced to work without the educated, experienced, and, in many cases, dedicated bureaucrats who served their country under Saddam.
One key provision of the new plan, then, is for the de-Baathification policy to be revisited and many of the previous bureaucrats rehired, to bring their experience and expertise into the government. This will not only help to make the government function better, it will also show the Sunnis that they are not being ruled over exclusively by Shiites.
Needless to say, this is a difficult move for some Shiites to take. But it is essential if the Iraqi government is to become in fact as well as name a government of the whole country, Shiites, Sunnis, and Kurds alike.
We were correct, in the first years after the fall of Saddam, to pursue complete de-Baathification. Now we are correct to relax those rules. But this will not constitute "re-Baathification." The plan is to let previous government functionaries return on a case by case or level by level basis -- none of the monsters of Saddam's regime will be returned to power.
In addition, the new plan includes sharing oil revenues with the people. What form this will take I don't know. Cash payments? New infrastructure? I'm not sure that establishing a dole out of oil revenues will actually help -- people value most what they work for, not what is handed to them.
But better to pay out checks to the citizenry than to let the oil revenues be skimmed by government-sponsored profiteers. And revenue-sharing will at least be a tangible sign that the government is working for the people, and not oppressing them. It may even be intended as an incentive for the people of thug-held sections of Iraq to cooperate in getting rid of their fascist masters -- help us get rid of the insurgents, and you too can get your check. But I'm most skeptical about this part of the plan.
The execution of the new plan will not be perfect, because nothing is. Still, it is a framework that can succeed.
Succeed We Must
When the Iraq Study Group report came out, the Democrats and the media just loved it. It was another stick to beat Bush with -- therefore it was treated as credible.
Just like the sniping of those generals who hated Rumsfeld. Never mind that the opposition of the entrenched military bureaucracy was actually a very good sign that Rumsfeld was doing a splendid job as secretary of defense -- most secretaries of defense are quickly coopted by the military, becoming more their servant than the President's, or else neutralized, becoming completely ineffective for anybody.
But for the media and the Democrats, anything that hurt Bush was good.
The moment the Democrats won, however, their "beliefs" seemed to change overnight.
No longer was the claim that we needed "more boots on the ground" even remotely interesting to them. They demand the opposite -- get the soldiers home.
No longer was the Iraq Study Group worth paying attention to -- the Democrats control Congress, so no longer does it matter that the ISG report declared that failure in Iraq would be a disaster for the United States.
(Those who care about such things will remember that even before the invasion of Iraq, I was on record as believing that it was much more important to eliminate Syria's Baathist government, an open sponsor of terrorism and the chief funnel for funds and weapons flowing to the terrorists in Israel and Lebanon.
(Of course, any invasion of Syria would have meant an almost immediate war with Iraq -- Saddam would have been unable to resist the macho thrill of declaring war on us in solidarity with his Syrian brethren. No nonsense about WMDs as a pretext -- it would have been Syrian sponsorship of terror, period.
We would have beaten Syria and Iraq relatively easily -- and then our occupation of both countries would have been accomplished without interference from either. Israel's life would have been easier, and so would Lebanon's. Palestinians might have had a chance to get out from under the thugs of Fatah without turning to the thugs of Hamas.
But nobody listened to my sage advice -- not a surprise -- and we're in the situation we're in. That's the part that the Democrats don't seem to get. No matter whether they like it now or not, Republicans and Democrats voted overwhelmingly for this war. Some of the information on which their votes were based turned out not to be true -- but all decisions of Congress and the President are based on incomplete and partially inaccurate information. Despite years of vile accusations, there is no evidence of deliberate disinformation from President Bush.
Yet even if President Bush lied constantly, and even if this war was completely misguided and inappropriate at its inception, the cost of leaving Iraq without complete, unequivocal victory is far higher than the cost of staying.
Iraq isn't Vietnam. When the Democratic Congress cut off funding for the South Vietnamese military after American withdrawal, violating all the promises that had been made to the South Vietnamese, this cowardly and dishonorable act had few repercussions for America for several reasons:
1. Vietnam was not part of the fountain of oil from which the world's economy constantly drinks.
2. As Senator McCain repeatedly points out, the Vietnamese Communists didn't follow us home.
In Iraq, like Vietnam, cowardly and dishonorable withdrawal by the United States will result in a bloodbath. Anyone who supported us and the cause of Iraqi democracy will be dead in short order. No reeducation camps -- fanatical Islam doesn't have a doctrine of redemption, just of execution.
Withdrawal from Iraq will without doubt vastly increase the prestige, power, and recruiting ability of our enemies -- Al Qaeda on the Sunni side, Iran's ayatollahs on the Shiite side. Iraq will certainly become a bloody battlefield as Iran, Turkey, and a Sunni alliance battle over control of the oil fields and the historically significant city of Baghdad, capital of the ancient Caliphs.
No outcome of that struggle has the slightest chance of working to our benefit. In fact, we would almost certainly be forced to intervene, and with far more casualties than we could possibly suffer through ten more years of the present struggle in Iraq.
For there is zero chance that any Muslim victor in such a bloody war would be anything other than a fanatical anti-Western anti-democratic regime that would control all Middle-eastern oil and claim leadership of all Muslims throughout the world.
Our departure from Iraq, without leaving behind a strong and viable democratic government committed to fighting terrorism, will lead immediately to all the secular governments in the region making their peace with Islamofascists -- or being overthrown by them. They will have no alternative, once the United States is revealed as having no will to resist the terrorists.
So even if the war over the spoils in Iraq is not as bloody and all-encompassing as I fear, it will only be because the Islamo-fascists have gotten their way without having to fight each other.
Make no mistake: Regardless of what the America-haters in the West declare, America is the last, best hope of the vast majority of people in the Middle East who wish to live in peace, under governments that will keep them safe but otherwise leave them alone to live their lives.
What Are the Democrats Doing?
I'm a Democrat -- a Scoop Jackson, Daniel Patrick Moynihan, Joseph Leiberman Democrat. The kind that believes freedom is worth fighting for -- both our freedom of other people's as well.
The kind that places the interest of the American people and, yes, of the world at large over the temporary political advantage that can be derived from attacking a President in wartime.
So when I watch Democratic leaders completely ignore the security interests of the United States in order to engage in cheap sloganeering ("bring our boys home!") and demagoguery, I am filled with shame and rage.
Are they really so completely ignorant of history that they do not realize the golden opportunity we have, and the disastrous consequences of not seizing it?
In the 1930s, war-weary Britain and France kept appeasing Hitler, when a relatively cheap military action could have stopped him at any time. First when Hitler marched into the Rhineland, a mere show of force by France would have resulted in the toppling of Hitler's government. Later, when the Czech military was prepared to fiercely resist Hitler's armies, a firm stand by France and Britain would have led, again, to Hitler's fall.
After 9/11 made it clear that hand-wringing and a few cruise missiles were not enough to stop the America-hating madmen of Al Qaeda and other Islamic terrorist groups and nations, we had a President who did not make the mistakes of France and Britain during the 1930s. The nations supporting terrorism did not yet have the capability to unify Islam and challenge the survival of the West.
So President Bush did the right thing; even if some of the steps along the way were mistaken, it was vital that we act boldly and visibly.
His policies were immediately effective in the changed behavior of most terror-sponsoring states.
However, years of vocal and increasingly effective Democratic anti-Bush propaganda, designed to achieve no higher purpose than the political defeat of George W. Bush, have emboldened our enemies everywhere. Democratic Bush-haters can claim that Bush has lowered our prestige in the world, but the opposite is true. Where it counts -- among those nations that support terrorism -- Bush vastly raised our prestige, and the Democrats have shockingly lowered it.
The result is that nations that for a while were cowed by Bush's boldness are once again sponsoring terrorism -- as witness Sudan's revived genocidal policies in Darfur. Ironically, the American and European Left are highly critical of Bush for not "doing something" about Darfur. No one has the brains or the courage to admit that the only "something" that would be effective is the military defeat of the Sudanese government.
The Left always wants someone to "do something," but never wants to do anything that works. And never wants to admit that President George W. Bush has ever done anything right.
Well, he has; and the Democrats right now are doing something dangerously wrong. Every word they say strengthens and encourages our enemies, while discouraging and weakening our friends and allies in the Middle East. They are the best weapon Al Qaeda and the murderous Iranian and Syrian governments have against us. Every time they open their mouths in their misleading and deceptive attacks on Bush and demands for unilateral withdrawal from Iraq, they are helping ensure the future deaths of Americans and others, at home and abroad.
It is one thing to raise legitimate questions about how a war is being waged. It is quite another thing to agitate openly for surrender to an enemy that will not accept our surrender, but will, scenting victory, continue to murder Americans wherever they can.
Why should the Democrats have control of Congress if they will use that power to destroy the fledgling movement toward democracy in Iraq that is the only hope for countering the false piety of the Islamo-fascists?
They are so ignorant of history that they think they can do this with impunity -- that if they can keep the media on their side (as they certainly are right now), they can win political control of America in the presidential election of 2008.
Maybe they can. Just as Hoover won the presidency in 1928 just in time to preside over the Great Depression, maybe the Democrats will get complete control of the American government just in time for the disastrous world war and/or worldwide economic collapse that will be the certain result of the triumph of Islamo-fascism in the Middle East.
So the real question for Americans right now is: Would you rather fight the war now, in Iraq, with policies that will lead to victory, and with a military that has high morale and is prepared to do what is necessary to win?
Or would you rather fight it later, with the kind of anti-military, anti-victory President that the Democrats are almost certain to nominate in 2008, and with a demoralized military that will have to regain all the ground we already hold right now, and at a far higher cost?
It is not a choice between war and peace. It is a choice between a victory in defense of Western civilization, particularly America, or a defeat that will lead to a far more desperate war later -- and with far less economic strength behind us as we fight it.
Here's the Crux
Here's where everything will come to a head. President Bush's speech had one paragraph that is the single most important thing he said:
"Succeeding in Iraq also requires defending its territorial integrity -- and stabilizing the region in the face of the extremist challenge. This begins with addressing Iran and Syria."
Bush then rehearsed the fact that Iran and Syria are supplying and training our enemies, as well as providing safe havens for them. So he promises:
"We will disrupt the attacks on our forces. We will interrupt the flow of support from Iran and Syria. We sill seek out and destroy the networks providing advanced weaponry and training to our enemies in Iraq."
This is a declaration that our enemies, who are already at war with us though no official declaration has been made, will no longer be safe in their own territory, because America will not respect a boundary that they have already violated countless times.
It is a declaration that we will take military action in Syria and Iran.
When President Bush does this, there are two possible reactions.
We know the liberal media and the Democrats will howl at this "widening" of the war.
(It is not a widening at all, since our enemies are already using Syrian and Iranian territory against us and against Iraq. It is "widening" the war to invade Syrian and Iranian territory only if it was "widening" the war in World War II to attack the Japanese and German military wherever they were, including their homelands, and not just where they happened to be killing American soldiers that day.)
Will the American people believe them, swallow their distorted interpretation, and cease to support the President in waging a war for victory?
Or will the American people understand that we have a President who intends to win this relatively small, cheap war in order to save us from far greater devastation later? Will the poll numbers leap in his support?
It could go either way.
Here's the bitter irony: If President Bush succeeds, he will never get credit for what he prevented, because we will never live through the disasters that he averted by his bold, relentless pursuit and destruction of our enemies.
Indeed, it is quite likely that the War on Terrorism will go down in history as an "unnecessary" war, or a war of American imperialism, because the Left will certainly write the history of our time -- if President Bush succeeds and American soil remains peaceful and prosperous.
Only if the Democrats have their way and we go down to voluntary and unnecessary defeat in a war that we did not start -- only then will it become clear how wise and essential President Bush's policies were. The Democrats will try to blame the disaster on Bush, but the American people will know that things went hopelessly wrong only after the Democrats forced our premature surrender to Islamo-fascism in Iraq.
If the Democratic leadership would only let President Bush win this war, they would get the government back afterward, the way Labor won in Britain after the crisis of World War II ended in victory. Then the Democrats would be blamed for nothing.
But if the anti-war Democrats succeed in blocking President Bush now, if they prevent him from removing Syria and Iran as threats to world peace and the world economy and, most particularly, threats to American safety and Western democracy, then that party will bear all the blame and all the shame for the disaster they caused.
In Iraq, President Bush and our brave soldiers are fighting for all the values that the Democratic Party claims to hold dear -- including the pursuit of world peace by defeating those who have, without provocation, slaughtered thousands around the world in acts of barbarism.
The Democratic leaderss are watching the polls. Since their highest goal right now is temporary political advantage, the only way to keep them from undoing all the fine work and great sacrifices of our military is to help all Americans understand exactly what "bringing the troops home" right now would mean -- what it would mean to block President Bush from pursuing the policies that will lead to victory.
In other words, make copies of this essay and the words of others who stand with President Bush in pursuit of victory, and give it to everyone you know -- especially those who are most adamant in their opposition to the war. Ask them, "Have you thought about this?"
Of course, I know the answers some will give. They'll treat it like a high school debate. Instead of answering the big issues -- what will happen to the world economy when Islamo-fascists control the Persian Gulf, for instance, or how we will respond when a united Islamo-fascist army starts murdering all the men, women, and children in Israel, or what we will do when the Islamo-fascists hiding among the Muslim immigrants in Europe call for violent revolution in France, in the Netherlands, in Britain -- they will focus on narrow, foolish, no-longer-relevant issues, like whether Bush "lied," or whether we should have gotten involved in Iraq in the first place.
Like the man who came to a recent book-signing of mine in Greensboro, trying to pick a quarrel with me. When I said, "Nobody knew that Iraq did not have a nuclear program," his answer was, "Hans Blick did."
He was wrong in his facts: Hans Blick didn't know. Because he and his team of inspectors had not been allowed free access to anyone or anything that would have given them knowledge. He had an opinion, which at this moment seems to have turned out to be correct. But President Bush could hardly have been expected to base our future security on Blick's unsupported opinion, when all the credible, impartial evidence available to him said that Iraq had nukes.
But he was even more wrong even to raise the issue. Today, in 2007, what does it matter whether we should or should not have invaded Iraq? The fact is that we did! What matters now is that the consequences of leaving without victory (i.e., surrendering Iraq to our enemies) would be devastating and global, while the cost of staying and pursuing victory is, compared to other wars at such a scale, amazing cheap in both life and money.
So why would anybody be such a fool as to introduce, into the debate about what should do now, arguments about what we should have done before?
Equally foolish are those who say "We should negotiate." Negotiating only works if you have something the other side needs or are prepared to do something the other side fears. This is always true. There are no exceptions, ever, in all of history. And if we withdraw from Iraq without victory, we will have nothing left that the other side wants or fears from us.
Such foolish, time-wasting arguments would base foreign policy on quibbles instead of either principles or practical consequences. The issue is not what we should have done before, but what we can and must do now.
Yet even on that basis, President Bush is ultimately right and has been all along. I might quibble, like a sports fan after the game, that we should have invaded Syria before Iraq, and we should have done it close on the heels of our victory in Afghanistan instead of waiting for U.N. approval.
But in the long run, it was always true that there would be no end to Islamo-fascist terrorism until the governments of Iran, Iraq, and Syria, as they stood in 2001, were removed from power and replaced with governments committed to destroying terrorism.
President Bush's speech made explicit, once again, his commitment to accomplishing exactly that. It's time for us, the ordinary citizens, to speak up, to vocally declare our loyalty to our side in this war, and force the opponents of the war to answer the real questions -- or stop getting in the way of victory.
When the Democrats come to believe that opposition to President Bush's conduct of this war will lead to their resounding defeat at the polls in 2008, you can be sure that they will immediately provide the most supportive of Congresses. It really is, ultimately, up to us, whether we win or lose this war.

It’s not as if your lives are important.

2007-02-12T09:30:00.001-06:00

- reflection to myself while being inconvenienced by traffic.

Sometimes I amuse myself…

2007-02-12T09:11:00.000-06:00

… with exactly NO justification.

Castor and Prolix

Vive la Différence

2006-12-27T17:10:00.000-06:00

Those who know me well can answer the question rather easily: to the extent that I have a “type” when it comes to women, what is it? The answer to that question, rather unlike most answers I am prone to give, is concise: redheads.

Discussing the question with a friend (well, a friend of a friend) a few months ago, I provided the following ranking: Fiery Coppery redheads; Pale, raven-haired (black-haired) girls; auburn/brownish-reds/reddish-brunettes; strawberry-blondish redheads; brunettes. Note that blondes are not even on my list. My companion modified my list, as he considers “Asian” a color of hair: apparently Asian women with dark hair have a different kind of dark hair than non-Asians. Who knew?

As I side note, I must observe: in terms of straightforward beauty, brunettes can and often do trump redheads. I have no doubt that the most beautiful women in the world are brunettes; certainly the most beautiful women I’ve seen. Jennifer Connelly is more beautiful than Nicole Kidman; but then there’s that hair. There is just something about that exotic, rare, intoxicating shade that just bypasses all rational thought and enthralls. I have honestly met women that I would date, because of the color of their hair alone. There may be more beautiful brunettes, but all in all, redheads are more attractive.

I had a patient last night who had a rather impressive mane. Dark, coppery red: it wasn’t her natural shade, but she was clearly a natural redhead, and it wasn’t that far from her hair color of younger days. I drew praise from her for having noted on my own that the redheaded species is divided into two major sub-groups: there are green-eyed ones, with strongly Irish features (prominent chins, high foreheads), reddish-to-pale skin, freckles, and coppery, fiery hair; and blue-eyed ones, in general with fairer complexions, almost pale, without freckles, and hair tending either toward deep red or strawberry blonde. She also appreciated a saying that I read somewhere about redheads: Redheads are like other women, only more so.

I went out on a date with a blonde earlier this year, late August or early September. I mentioned to her that she was only the second blonde I had gone out with in 10 years, and that I had gone out with more (natural!) redheads than that over the course of the summer. Let me assure you, that takes work; in the event she wasn’t a natural blonde, but a brunette. I didn’t get a second date.

While I could not tell that she was not a natural blonde, I have been known to be able to tell, in very dim light, that a girl I had never seen before, and whose hair was dark enough to nearly get lost in the shadows, was a natural redhead. I was even able to pick out the fact that she had freckles around her temples, in the dim light, much to the amazement of a female coworker. She was unable to tell, until the lights came up, that the girl’s hair color was natural; and she has considerable experience with hair coloring, as her mother is a professional hairdresser. I know those Irish girls.

In addition to three women I went out with over the summer, my last two girlfriends were redheads. A previous patient, who was also a redhead, tried to warn me about pursuing redheads with too much enthusiasm: they can be rather like handling fire, and one mustn’t undertake to pursue them without knowing what one is doing. I assured her: I know what I’m getting myself into. I also know it’s worth it.

Redheads are like other women, only more so.

Something else...

2006-10-14T13:15:00.000-05:00

My roommate (M) made a comment, a month or so ago, when I called myself a food snob. He said that his brother, very much a food snob, would disagree, on account of the fact that I don't know the first thing about wine.

A couple of days ago, this girl (L) I was trying to impress by telling her what kind of meal I was planning on cooking, and then comparing this meal with her current boyfriend's culinary range of turkey sandwiches, said: "Very imporant question. What kind of wine are you serving? Without the right wine, I might as well be eating a turkey sandwich...."

Last night I met a new friend (K). I knew where she worked, but she pointed out that she worked in the wine section of a certain store. And that, yes, if I wanted to be educated about food, I really needed to know something about wine.

So, K and I went to BN (that's Barnes and Noble for the uneducated) and I picked up a book that L had recommneded to me (at least, I THINK it's a book that she recommended; I might have misunderstood, but I don't think so).

So, I am ashamed to say, I have entered the world of true food snobbery, with the purchase of The Sommelier's Guide to Wine. May God have mercy on my soul.

That's what I call a tropical breakfast...

2006-10-14T12:41:00.000-05:00

I had a breakfast burrito this morning. You know, scrambled eggs, cheese, sausage, and salsa all wrapped in a tortilla.

Kinda yummy.

I told my roommie that I was chasing my breakfast down with Milk and Orange Juice.

He makes a note of the darker, caramel color of the milk and says "That's not milk."

To which I reply: Just because there's Kalhua in the milk and coconut rum in the OJ doesn't mean I'm not drinking milk and OJ...."

Please welcome Xena, Charon, and Ceres to the family

2006-08-17T12:45:00.000-05:00

From CNN.com

PRAGUE, Czech Republic (AP) -- Our solar system would have 12 planets instead of nine under a proposed "Big Bang" expansion by leading astronomers, changing what billions of schoolchildren are taught about their corner of the cosmos.

Much-maligned Pluto would remain a planet -- and its largest moon plus two other heavenly bodies would join Earth's neighborhood -- under a draft resolution to be formally presented Wednesday to the International Astronomical Union, the arbiter of what is and is not a planet.

"Yes, Virginia, Pluto is a planet," quipped Richard Binzel, a professor of planetary science at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

Gotta love the irony

2006-08-17T12:22:00.000-05:00

From CNN.com

Pro-war Buddhist monks in scuffle

COLOMBO, Sri Lanka (Reuters) -- A scuffle broke out Thursday between saffron-robed monks and anti-war demonstrators at peace rally in Sri Lankan capital.

About six or seven monks from a right-wing Buddhist faction had stormed the stage during a peace rally attended by about 1,000 people in the capital, Colombo, shouting pro-war slogans, an AP reporter at the scene said.

A member of Sri Lanka's parliament was addressing the crowd when the monks climbed on stage.

The monks unfurled banners reading "Take your protest to Kilinochchi," referring to the de facto rebel capital in northern Sri Lanka where hundreds have been killed in the last week.

Angry protesters then pulled the monks from the stage and burned their banners, local television showed. There were no reported injuries.

Sri Lanka has been engulfed in more than two decades of civil war as rebel Tamil Tigers battle government forces for an independent homeland in the north and east.

I've always loved Nicole...

2006-08-17T12:16:00.000-05:00

HT Instapundit

Kidman condemns Hamas, Hezbollah

NICOLE Kidman has made a public stand against terrorism.
The actress, joined by 84 other high-profile Hollywood stars, directors, studio bosses and media moguls, has taken out a powerfully-worded full page advertisement in today's Los Angeles Times newspaper.

It specifically targets "terrorist organisations" such as Hezbollah in Lebanon and Hamas in Palestine.

"We the undersigned are pained and devastated by the civilian casualties in Israel and Lebanon caused by terrorist actions initiated by terrorist organisations such as Hezbollah and Hamas," the ad reads.

"If we do not succeed in stopping terrorism around the world, chaos will rule and innocent people will continue to die.

"We need to support democratic societies and stop terrorism at all costs."

A who's who of Hollywood heavyweights joined Kidman on the ad.

The actors listed included: Michael Douglas, Dennis Hopper, Sylvester Stallone, Bruce Willis, Danny De Vito, Don Johnson, James Woods, Kelly Preston, Patricia Heaton and William Hurt.

Directors Ridley Scott, Tony Scott, Michael Mann, Dick Donner and Sam Raimi also signed their names.

Mot Just du Jour de Nuevo

2006-08-13T11:58:00.000-05:00

Never ask a philosopher-psychologist a question about how he is feeling. Because you'll probably get an accurate answer.

- Me

Meditation

2006-06-23T20:57:00.000-05:00

Fortune favors the prepared mind. You throw yourself in the way of opportunity, and then you fit yourself to take advantage of that with which fate presents you.

You want to be bold, you tell yourself. Experience teaches us that experience teaches us. One develops a sense of Right and Wrong in much the same way one develops a sense of balance: throwing oneself out there, scraping your knees when you fall. You… feel what is right: every correct step increases your confidence; every misstep is a corrective, a lesson.

Barry Goldwater famously said, “Extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice. Moderation in the pursuit of justice is no virtue.” To the chronic procrastinator, cautious hesitation is deadly sin.

Do what thy manhood bids thee do:
from none but self expect applause.
He noblest lives, and noblest dies,
who makes and keeps his self-made laws.

An Idle Speculation

2006-06-10T17:20:00.000-05:00

First: an increasingly acceptable and mainstream evolutionary approach to understanding human behavior.

Second: an also increasingly prevalent, and possibly extreme, embrasure of occult and mystical explanations in rejection of reason and science.

Prediction of the first: a sterilization of the fruitfulness of evolutionary explanation, as it continues to exclude the possiblity that evolutionary explantions themselves demand a "missing element," an arrow, a telos that transcends the limits of naturalistic explanation.

Prediction of the second: a rejection in the mainstream of the overly-emotional, overly-irrational occulto-mystical trends towards "approaching" spiritual matters.

The hopeful synthesis: an increase, in a segment of the population, of an openness to a "scientific approach" to the spiritual; the acknowledgment that science needs the religious attitude, as much as the religious attitude needs science.

Question to self: is Dennett's new direction an indication of the first observation, or the hopeful synthesis? Dennett strikes me as the uber-intellectualist; on the other hand, he has a track record as a maverick. But I don't have time to read his stuff....

And another thing:

2006-05-30T16:54:00.000-05:00

I really should have added this to my blogroll a while ago:

The Dilbert Blog

In my opinion, Scott Adams is a darn fine intellectual, and a lot smarter than his (admittedly, pretty darn good) comic strip would seem to imply. I haven’t been reading his blog regularly, myself – though I heard about it from no less than Glenn Reynolds, and my good friend James reads it regularly – but, you know what they say:

Do as I say, not as I do.

MYSTERY SOLVED!

2006-05-30T15:48:00.000-05:00

This is amusing.

From CNN.com

LONDON, England -- It's a question that has baffled scientists, academics and pub bores through the ages: What came first, the chicken or the egg?

Now a team made up of a geneticist, philosopher and chicken farmer claim to have found an answer. It was the egg.

Put simply, the reason is down to the fact that genetic material does not change during an animal's life.

Therefore the first bird that evolved into what we would call a chicken, probably in prehistoric times, must have first existed as an embryo inside an egg.

Professor John Brookfield, a specialist in evolutionary genetics at the University of Nottingham, told the UK Press Association the pecking order was clear.

The living organism inside the eggshell would have had the same DNA as the chicken it would develop into, he said.

"Therefore, the first living thing which we could say unequivocally was a member of the species would be this first egg," he added. "So, I would conclude that the egg came first."

The same conclusion was reached by his fellow "eggsperts" Professor David Papineau, of King's College London, and poultry farmer Charles Bourns.

Mr Papineau, an expert in the philosophy of science, agreed that the first chicken came from an egg and that proves there were chicken eggs before chickens.

He told PA people were mistaken if they argued that the mutant egg belonged to the "non-chicken" bird parents. "I would argue it is a chicken egg if it has a chicken in it," he said.

"If a kangaroo laid an egg from which an ostrich hatched, that would surely be an ostrich egg, not a kangaroo egg."

Bourns, chairman of trade body Great British Chicken, said he was also firmly in the pro-egg camp.

He said: "Eggs were around long before the first chicken arrived. Of course, they may not have been chicken eggs as we see them today, but they were eggs."

Personally, I feel just a little bit of perverse pride in a philosopher’s involvement: this is exactly the useless crap that we excel in. As a side note, while I couldn’t exactly say where, I am reasonably certain that I’ve come across Papineau’s name before. And I would bet a reasonable amount of money that my former dissertation director, Michael Ruse, probably knows him.

Just thought I would pass this along.

Even James is in on the action....

2006-05-24T16:06:00.000-05:00

Please note the newest addition to my Blogroll:

Library Bound - the as of yet unutilized blog of my good friend James.

Drop by and show him the linky love!

Dark chocolate covered espresso-roast coffee beans and other nice things...

2006-05-09T00:12:00.000-05:00

So.

My girlfriend and I went on a date.

To a grocery store.

Seriously, we were there for an hour, and all I bought was something like 5 items. Including the titular dark-chocolate-covered espresso-roast coffee beans. I also bought gelato.

You guys should really check out The Fresh Market.

I also bought some dark chocolate. It's cool having a former nutrition major explaining food labels to you. Remember, ladies and gentlemen: dark chocolate is GOOD for you.

Did I mention they sell gelato there? I've been looking for gelato for weeks.

David, who hasn't posted on his blog is graduating this Saturday. From Law School. I STILL DON'T HAVE MY FRIGGIN' PH.D!!!!

I'm trying to convince the girlfriend to let me have pictures of her. I'm sure you're all dying for proof that I actually do have one. I have, what, 2 readers of this thing?

Yeah, I need to get on the ball.

Ok, I'm at work. I should like, be at work or something....

Mot juste du Jour, reprise:

2006-04-28T00:14:00.000-05:00

“This has ‘clusterfuck’ written all over it.”

- Me, to my roommate, upon hearing about his company’s management’s decision to switch the entire crew to a shift rotation, pretty much solely in order to deal with an unreliable service vendor.

I love my friends

2006-04-26T07:24:00.000-05:00

So. The other day I was in a folk-songy mood. There was one particular song that was running through my head. Problem was, I didn’t actually know the song. Didn’t know lyrics, or the name. Quite honestly, I only knew the first few bars; but I had heard it before and remember that I thought it was good. How the heck am I supposed to find out what it is?

Well, I know that the tune was featured in a Loony Toons cartoon. I haven’t seen this cartoon in probably 15 years, but I remembered it vividly.

So I have a tune I half remember, but the only reference I can make to it is by referring to a cartoon. And I’m no closer to finding a source for information about the name of the tune. I mean, after all, who would have such broad expertise and in depth knowledge to be an authority on both folk-tunes and Loony Toons?

Why, James, of course.

I email him my problem. As it turns out, he did know one word from the title of the song. No, then he remembered another, and a Google search did the rest. Voila: he had recalled the cartoon I was trying to describe, the folk song that was played in it, and was able to find the song’s title.

It’s nice having an ace in the hole.

The real winner in the affair, though, gentle reader, is you, given that I was quite taken by the beauty of both the tune, in its entirety, and the lyrics. I shall post them here; if you want a MIDI file of the tune itself, I recommend you look at the site I filched the lyrics from.

Believe me if all those endearing young charms

Believe me if all those
Endearing young charms
Which I gaze on so fondly today
Were to change by tomorrow
And fleet in my arms,
Like fairy gifts fading away
Thou would'st still be adored
As this moment thou art
Let thy loveliness fade as it will
And around the dear ruin
Each wish of my heart
Would entwine itself
Verdantly still.

It is not while beauty
And youth are thine own
And thy cheeks
Unprofaned by a tear
That the ferver and faith
Of a soul can be known
To which time will but
Make thee more dear
No the heart that has truly loved
Never forgets
But as truly loves
On to the close
As the sunflower turns
On her god when he sets
The same look which
She'd turned when he rose.

Blogger vs. LiveJournal

2006-04-23T01:33:00.000-05:00

Obviously, blogging has been light.

There are a number of reasons. Not all of them are "I've been insanely busy," but a fair percentage translate into a reasonable facsimile of such.

Reasons for busy-ness, and lack of blogging, do include spending more time with "the girl." However, moving, a funky work schedule which has included new equipment at work, taxes, and academic deadlines have all been present as well.

Most importantly, however, is that much of my intellectual effort is usually directed towards dissertation-writing, or at least ought to be. I made a personal decision, when I first started this blog, that it would not be a forum for angsty, self-indulgent, overly psychological musings. As a general rule, unless it is a comment about things actually going on in my life, or thoughts I have about things external to myself, I try not to post it here.

That's what a journal is for.

So, while I haven't had the intellectual spare capacity to focus on analysis, or just to write about whatever's going on, I have been terribly moody lately and putting that out on my LiveJournal account. I don't actually recommend reading my LJ, and I seriously doubt that there are any people out there actually interested.

However, if you just can't get enough of Jonathan and actually give a darn to know what's going on in my brain, well, then, I actually have been journaling, as opposed to blogging, quite a bit lately. Anyone interested, feel free to look things up there.

All good things…

2006-04-12T23:43:00.000-05:00

At strategically opportune times, one’s rotational momentum is such that sufficient inertia and moment is attained, and with a linear course of movement is perfectly aligned with the axis, stability is imparted and movement is amplified in a perfect convergence of forces.

Sometimes, orthogonal considerations are not just complementary; they may actually be mutually supportive.

All good things must have a beginning.

A lesson I’ve never learned: Big successes are built from small ones. One never makes bad big decisions: one let’s oneself make a million bad small ones. And then you wonder how you’ve wasted your life.

I’m equal parts terrified of having completely wasted the best opportunities of my life, and still blindly optimistic that I’m still in the game.

I’m moving into a new apartment. It’s a new start. I have a new relationship with a wonderful young lady. I have IDEAS. I want to FINISH, so I can START.

Holding hands is really nice.

Life begins at 31.

About a girl....

2006-04-06T12:58:00.000-05:00

Well, it's official.

I have a girlfriend! 21 months after things ended with Alisha, I'm seeing someone. And I just wanted to shout it from the rooftops. Hey, it's my blog, I can do whatevertheheck I want.

Yes, I know, this is so high school (and before I get ANY comments, this is a different girl, and this one is legal) but what can I say, it's Springtime, I'm in love, things are wonderful.

The post-(other girl's name here) period was rough. It took a bit to get through. But... I knew the mistakes I had made, and I wasn't going to wallow in something that was never more than slightly substantial. She was - is - a wonderful girl, but she and I never had anything. There wasn't much for me to get over, except for my own issues.

This is different. This is new.

For the first time in my life I'm happy just to let things happen. I don't need to know where things are, where they are going. I don't need to understand everything that is happening: I can just accept that things are as they are and let life go where it will. This is very unusual for me. And... I like it.

She is a student at Samford. Very smart, very talented. Lots of interests that overlap with mine and a few that don't: similiar enough to be good, different enough to be exciting. She's absolutely gorgeous, though she has a hard time believing it. And best of all she's an Irish lass, complete with red hair and freckles.

So, there's the news. If you hear from me in the next couple of weeks, brace yourself for the annoyance of listening to a guy who's found a new girl.

I think I'm back....

2006-03-31T16:46:00.000-06:00

Been a rough couple of weeks. Out with the old; in with the new.

Had to learn a lot about myself and the things that have been important to me. I've been depressed and recuperating. And in forcing myself to put one foot in front of the other and not wallow in my wretched misery, I've... found, again, that life is worth living. And that wonderful things can happen at exactly the time you are least expecting.

I'm back, and I'll get back to blogging shortly. To all my friends, sorry I've been incommunicado: I've been licking my wounds. But I'm ready to be happy again.

These poor gifts

2006-03-13T11:25:00.000-06:00

I hate it when I’m right.
This is actually true.
The ironic thing for me, as I am trying to learn to let go of my obsessive need to know, to understand; as I’m trying to learn to trust rather than dictate; is that in the little things, and the big things, but always the important things, regardless of size, I always seem to be vindicated. Ok, so there are a few things I’m flat out wrong about: the necessity, or even wisdom, of trying to understand everything, to name an obvious one. But still, there are a lot of little annoying truths out there, things I get, and when my gut tells me something is right, it usually is.
Do you see how this can be a problem? After all, I am coming to understand that it is the very act of imposing my own order onto the universe, it is hubris, not to put too fine a point on it, that is my biggest crime. Actually, in retrospect, that seems funny to me. I’ve been quite… unconcerned about my arrogance for years. I never dreamt there was a sin of pride that I would unknowingly commit.
So, it’s annoying, when I find that my hunches are almost always right, that I have to learn how to ignore my gut, or rather, how not to try to force my intuitions onto the world. How not to demand that the world turn out, as I, in my incredible wisdom, believe it should. I was thinking about this in the shower: my problem has always been that I figured that God had to be at least as smart as me, so he had to see things my way, because that’s how I treated everyone else.
It never occurred to me that I might not be remotely as smart as God.
It was an ironic anti-realization of Kiekegaard’s famous line: “It was intelligence and nothing else that had to be opposed. Presumably that is why I, who had the job, was armed with an immense intelligence.”
I had a vision, earlier. It’s hard to describe, verbally; after all, it was, well, visual. Nonetheless, it captured, I think, a very important, deep truth. I want to try to describe it….
But first. A few months ago, I was speaking with A (my ex). I was asking her if it was wrong to be a misanthrope. She replied (in her charming way) that one had to wonder if Hitler was happy. The point of this was… me trying to address my anger. My deep… dislike of, well, people in general. I’ve been an outsider for so long, and for the beginning unwilling, and somewhere in there it became by choice, that I have long practiced reverse-discrimination and calculated condescension. It dawned on me, back then, that I couldn’t ever really contribute to the world, couldn’t ever truly give of the fruits of my labor and try to “make the world a better place,” if I couldn’t stand its tenants.
I believe that God wants us to give. I believe what we give invariably returns to us, and more importantly, in the act of giving we develop ourselves, spiritually, to become more of what we are supposed to be. The act of giving, if you will, helps transmute us.
The woman I love told me (and not so long ago: I’ve only known her two months) that I was definitely more than just my work. I believe her, of course. But that was a different context. And I definitely think that in some situations, who we are is defined, in an important way, by what our work is, how we do it.
I saw a tesseract. Or perhaps it was a tessellation: at the very least, it was a repeated pattern of geometric shapes stretched over the surface of… something. It wasn’t a face, I think it was a machine: but the underlying structure was trying to move like a face: I think it was trying to make a face. Like an anthropomorphic machine attempting to make a grimace or smile.
As it did so, it assumed a strange shape; and in that strange shape, the geometric patterns on its surface started lining up in specific ways. The effect was to configure the underlying structure into a new shape, one that, perhaps, was always inherent in it, but one that lay obscured until both 1) it tried to transform itself by performing a specific action (i.e. making a face) and in so doing 2) aligned parts of itself that would not, otherwise, have come into contact, in such a way as to facilitate a new function.
As a poor student (more or less) I have always wondered what it was that I could give. I would be willing to give, just tell me WHAT to give, how much. Always for me I have wanted certainty, the easy instructions, the straightforward directions. Finding my own way – well, it’s hard to find your own way when, at bottom, you don’t really think that much of yourself.
Maybe part of stretching into the right shape means finding out the answers for yourself.
More importantly was the fact that I had nothing to give. Until last night, in the shower, I realized that I have never done anything, of “socially redeeming value” with my intellect.
Because I hate the ones who whom I would give.
And hatred prevents you from bending in the right shape.
My ex was right: you can’t hold a grudge and be happy. You can’t try to serve a humanity you cannot stand. And if God has given me a great intellect, then it is just the obvious way to give, to give back to the world, give back to God, the fruits of that intellect’s labor.
I wanted to figure out my purpose in life.
Perhaps it was obvious all along. Even education, however indirect, is service.
I’ve been looking to hard for magic bullet; quick, direct fixes; a one-stop shop for all your spiritual needs! I was never happy that the word effort might mean effort beyond what I was naturally good at. Generosity is very hard for a person who has felt betrayed all his life.
The obvious. The certain. Those are my guides, and where they are absent they are my quests. But what I need to do is give. Give of my talents. I don’t know how but that is almost irrelevant. The important part is that I do give, that I do forgive and stop the hatred and the condescension, and let the giving transform me.
I won’t grow until I give. I won’t give until I learn to love, and let go of hate. I won’t learn to love until I am willing to be wrong, to learn to trust, and let the future be, without me having to control it.
I must learn, and find, a way to freely give of what God has given me.

No longer here

2006-03-12T04:09:00.000-06:00

The lonely little boy who used to live here has checked out.

He is not expected to return.

A new tenant is expected, but he is not currently ready; and it is not known when he will arrive.

Walt Whitman, existentialist

2006-03-11T14:54:00.000-06:00

O ME! O life!… of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities fill’d with the foolish;
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light—of the objects mean—of the struggle ever renew’d;
Of the poor results of all—of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;
Of the empty and useless years of the rest—with the rest me intertwined;
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?

Answer.

That you are here—that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.

Sounds so familiar.

Once more unto the breach:

2006-03-11T04:10:00.000-06:00

If having a laptop computer has accomplished nothing else, it has at the very least facilitated a habit of writing. Even if I don’t write as much on that which should be written upon, I am storing my thoughts in an encoded, physical (however virtual) form. Furthermore, it has encouraged (through the use of the over-hyped and misunderstood medium of the blog) the publication of said thoughts in a more-or-less public forum. (Doesn’t to publish analytically imply a public forum?)

That said, the thing that annoys me most about this newfound tendency is how blitheringly inane most of my posting are. How truly, witheringly vapid the inevitable (not-so-nice term for some disgusting bodily function) which dribbles from my fingers. I mean, here I am, with a brain the size of a planet, a philosopher’s unending quest for truth, a psychologist’s obsessive need for deconstruction, and I am keeping the same monochromatically-indistinguishable-from-the-rest-of-the-blogosphere’s wimpish, narcissistic posturing. Only with bigger words and harder-to-comprehend turns of phrase.

Maybe I’m not as smart as I think I am. Maybe all I really am is a frustrated poet.1

I suppose to be fair I do have my fair share of overlong and genuinely existential posts here. And I have a few more over at my LJ. But I think that’s part of my point: nothing here accomplishes anything, except satisfying my narcissistic need for emotional exhibitionism. And a forum for my expressive virtuosity.

I’ve never been one to define my activities in terms of others expectations of me, whatever the psychological reality about my personal sense of value may be. However, I do want to do something here, or if not here, then in this medium. And because of the Sword of Dam-dissertation hanging over my head, I can’t justify devoting intense thought to such projects (however much time I spend writing here that I could be spending on the effing book report.) However, I am wondering, what does the audience want?

If you’re reading this, then you very probably know me; and if you know me, you’re very probably at least capable of scoring pretty darn well on a Mensa entrance exam, if not downright becoming a member. I’m willing to open this blog, or another, to a group effort, for a more discussion-oriented, interactive experience. Iron sharpens iron and all that jazz.

My topics of interests are, obviously, philosophical, psychological, and political (the three p’s?) and I know alternative opinions to mine are always beneficial to my own thinking. At least two of my (occasional) readers have Blogger accounts, and opening one, even if just to participate in the Jonathan intellectual blog. In the absence of a physical coffeeshop for bullshitting with possible value, a virtual coffeeshop.

Any takers?

1 Note to poets: I am not denigrating the intelligence necessary for writing poetry, nor its potential as a vehicle for social change. I am stating that poetry is defined by the way its vehicle, namely language, is crafted: poetry is first and foremost art, whatever its other functions or capacities may be. My self-criticism is that I seem to be more concerned with art and expression than with those things that are purportedly important to me, e.g. analysis and education.

Three, two, one....

2006-03-11T01:05:00.000-06:00

We have contact.

Moods... stabilized. Madness temporarily held at bay.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled blogcast.

Confusion and Faith: an open letter to the Deity and other interested parties

2006-03-10T02:36:00.000-06:00

I am not a Christian.

If you know me – and if you’re reading this blog, odds are that you do – then you are either completely unsurprised by this statement, or perhaps confused. I certainly don’t feel that I have disavowed Christianity, but my relationship to the faith of my childhood, and my family, is somewhat… complex.

There are, I believe, two people who do have a label to attach to the set of “religious” beliefs I have chosen to espouse. Of those two, one of them is responsible for introducing me to that path, and so understands what that choice is intended to entail. The other expressed some curiosity, due to my personal interest, but never followed up on that query. As I recall, there was never an honest attempt to ascertain whether the type of interpretation I ascribed to it was validated, and that was a source of frustration to me.

As some of my… beliefs, for lack of a better word, are consonant with what I understand of, say, Buddhism, or Islam, or much of philosophical materialist naturalism, while not abandoning some of the fundamental tenets of Christianity (as I have come to interpret them), one could say that I am a syncretic Christian. Certainly there have, in the past, been adherents to the path I am trying to pursue, who have been more than “merely nominal” Christians (a number of saints, I do believe, are reckoned to be travelers on the way); personally, I prefer to describe my beliefs as “heterodox.” I do remember one conversation I had with a very intelligent and literate Christian, of a somewhat fundamentalist creed, where I attempted to convey the notion that I could not adequately capture in words the precise nature of my “beliefs.” Her response was to argue that I could not be a Christian (as she saw it) because to her, her faith was a matter of an express, verbal allegiance to an explicit set of articulable propositions: Yes or no, do you believe X, Y, and Z?

I cannot so describe what I believe. My conception of God perhaps is more in line with Islam, or perhaps Spinozan pan-theism; I am as convinced of the necessity for psychological self-understanding as any Buddhist; I believe that the redemption of individual people, and the whole of humankind, is the true work of God, as does the Christian; I believe that there is an unseen reality, both imperceptible and pervasively influencing, like the Pagan. I am none of these; I am all at once.

What I do not know, what I do not recall, what is not in my purview at the moment, is how I should approach faith. There are some very straightforward approaches to faith in Christianity: Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. For by it the elders obtained a good report…. Without faith, it is impossible to please God. Elsewhere: For by grace are you saved, through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, lest any man should boast. As I understand it, the orthodox position of Christianity (the explicit propositions which describe theological reality) is more or less that faith is a vehicle that is necessary for the individual to be able approach God, a requirement that makes possible the saving grace of God’s benevolence. Whether this requirement is a brute metaphysical fact or a psychological contingency is something I find ambiguous. I couldn’t tell you what Muslims, or Buddhists, or Pagans, think of the nature and importance of faith. Presumably, Muslims, at least, have at least this much of a similar view: they certainly believe that their sets of beliefs are absolutely correct and any significant deviation from them merits the denial of paradise.

So why, apropos of nothing, am I discussing such esoterica? How do they relate to anything in my own confused, confusing, angry, exhausted, despairing, manic, irrational life?

I’m not certain, to be honest. I’m tired of living as I do. I’m tired of the struggle, the endless, needless complications caused by bad choices that are a result both of my own laziness and poor judgment, and of propensities, predilections, and tendencies imposed on me by factors beyond my control. I’m tired of being lonely, insecure, panickingly terrified of being alone. I’m tired of having a hyperactive brain that can lurch from violent over-clocking to inspired self-confidence to tragically painful self-doubt. Tired of criticizing myself, blaming God, being angry with friends, being isolated from family, being desperate for lovers. I can honestly say that, throughout my entire life, I have never once seriously entertained the notion of suicide. This, interestingly enough, distinguishes me from just about anyone I have ever seriously loved and cared for. Even now I entertain no serious thoughts in that vein. Yet, for the first time in my life, I don’t discount the fact that, relative to the storms taking place inside my skull, the siren call of oblivion would not be totally unwelcome.

All of this, this eruption of questions, this burning uncertainty, this psychological tumult has had one specific and unique trigger. Sure, the conditions underlying this have had a lifetime to build up, and events as distantly disjunct as my relationship with my Father during my formative years; the brain chemistry and wiring that are a legacy from my maternal grandfather; my socially disastrous triple-promotion at the age of 10; and a chain of romantic relationships which have all ended uniformly badly. But my current hell is the function of having recently had the misfortune of falling in love.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind being in love. And Meghan… is without question the most beautiful, wonderful, compassionate, understanding person I have ever met. She’s “only” eighteen, but anyone who has ever met her recognizes in her a piercing intellect and wisdom far beyond her years, experiences and pain that many people much older have never had to bear. She’s more closely in touch with her true self than anyone else I have ever met, she is a source of inspiration and hope – not to mention heartbreaking beauty – for me.

It is a source of ironic amusement to me that for all our similarities, perhaps the strongest is an abiding conviction of our own essentially flawed characters. A more direct way of saying the same thing: we are both painfully aware of how incredibly fucked up we are as individuals. She’s the only person I have ever known who… looks inside herself as much as I do myself. And the only person I know who has made transforming herself the explicit immediate goal of her life.

I’ll be perfectly honest: I want her to need me. I want her to think of me as the one person best able to understand, to relate to her; I want to be the one person she feels she can turn to, who can accept and bear anything. I want her to read this, to see in me a kindred spirit as I see in her. I want her to know that I will gladly accept and bear anything to be with her, that I see the radiant beauty within her like no one else can; that no matter what she thinks of herself, I will always see in her nothing but the best, and will always want to stand beside her, no matter what.

Here is the problem, or rather two: I am not ready to love. Not her, not anyone. I acknowledge this claim with the resigned acceptance and angry denial of a caged tiger: however much I want to rage against the bars which imprison me, there is nothing, nothing which I can do to change the reality which defines it. I am an empty, twisted soul, all too eager to jump headfirst into abandoning myself out of the misguided beliefs that I, by myself, am essentially worthless, and that by devoting myself to another, I can somehow give myself a cause to live for. I don’t have the energy, assurance, or certainty, within myself, to assert myself into the world, to claim that I have value sufficient to withstand the spiritual crisis of existentialist doubt. I am too much like Hamlet, eagerly convinced that the sound and fury signify nothing. And it is bitterly ironic to me that she has said the same thing, as an explanation why she cannot choose to have a relationship with me.

This problem however stems from my second, and in fact more pressing one: I have no faith. It is bizarre for me to admit this, yet it is a fact that I have become more and more convinced of over the past few hours. I realized, just as I was cursing my own self, my own brain, my own weaknesses and the confluence of history and circumstances that have brought me here, and standing ready to shake a fist at God for bringing me to this, that I’ve never given really given God a chance. Not really. And that admission is rather difficult for me to make.

I spent most of my childhood and a good part of my early adulthood convinced of the absolute correctness of my faith, my religion. As a child – as young as 5 or 6 – I was concerned about the state of my eternal soul sufficiently to have my mother bring me to the pastor of our church for counseling – because the thought of eternity literally turned my stomach. I couldn’t comprehend infinity, the ever after, timelessness – and knew that somehow, that was different from the here and now – and that I had to make arrangements to be safe, even then. As a teenager I was both more and less of a fucked-up mess than average, but I earnestly sought out God and His instruction, and I knew that the key to a life of happiness, fulfillment, meaning lay in living according to His will. Toward the end of my undergraduate career, in the absence of having a definite course of my own which I felt was important enough to pursue, I seriously considered joining a monastery and devoting myself to God and contemplation. And that, curiously enough, is something which I do have in common with... two of the people I have loved most in my life.

What I have just realized, in a stunning inversion of perception, is that all along, I was seeking my own validation. It was never, really, about God: it was never about accepting His (or Her) terms. It was never about faith. Rather, it was simple optimism conjoined with a conviction that I was essentially right about reality, and a presumptive demand that my convictions be validated.

I have a cheerful, almost blithe optimism that passes for faith in a number of circumstances. I accept that the world just will turn out in a certain way. The US Invasion of Iraq, for example: I know that democracy will win in the end. Global warming? Fossil fuels? Third-world poverty? I am convinced that human ingenuity will eventually demonstrate the foolishness of excessively worrying over such hobgoblins; we’re too smart to blindly jump over a cliff. Market forces and all that. The march of freedom. History moving in the Star Trek direction of paradise, not the dystopian nightmares of Malthus.

As a faith, this is as humanistic as the ideology of the most secular-progressive liberals who wring their hands in anguish over just those very problems. Ironic, that, no doubt: I am the sworn enemy of unthinking left-elites and their anti-American, anti-religious, anti-individualism dogmas. Yet I believe the core tenets of their purported faith. I am a true disciple of Gene Rodenberry.

The problem, I have discovered, is that my faith is essentially humanistic; or perhaps, to put it another way, I have a history of placing my faith in humans. In particular people. And I have always, always had that faith disappointed. I was disappointed when the woman who promised to spend the rest of her life with me, who wore my ring and told me “yes” turned her back on me – literally – and let me walk out of her life. I was disappointed when the woman who promised me nothing but who nonetheless chose to enter my life, and in whom I invested the best of who I was. And I am in danger, now, having fallen in love for only the third time, of placing my faith, yet again, in a person, and asking her to play Goddess to my prostrated supplicant.

And once again I stand to be disappointed by my own failure to distinguish fancy from reality.

And that, I suppose, is the difference between faith and… something else. I don’t know what that something else even is. But what I experienced, as a child, as a teenager, after college, was never about faith. It was… not knowledge, because knowledge implies truth, but it was a state of unwarranted certainty, of unquestioning acceptance that is perhaps more closely related to prejudice. I didn’t trust and accept, I didn’t affirm: “I’m not sure where this is going, but I will endorse wherever it leads; I will accept whatever you have for me.” Rather, I had an arrogant confidence that my prejudices stood for reality, and that I was entitled to force God to accede to my desires. It’s not that those desires were selfish or corrupt, it’s just that they were wrong, and I was unwilling to countenance that possibility.

I suppose, in good conscience, I can’t absolutely blame myself for my lack of faith: after all, I had very poor teachers, and while I earnestly asked questions and sought guidance, I wasn’t anywhere where there was a true guide. And just as I cannot blame myself for either my psychological hang-ups or my deeply ingrained conditioned responses, there has been a point up to which I could not choose to do otherwise. I instinctively grasped, for answers, for affirmation, for conviction, for direction, never questioning that I knew how to know, that I had learned how to learn.

Faith must be capable of transforming: yet I have always stood too confident, inflexible, and dogmatically certain of my own rightness to consider that I should change. I have never been convinced of the viciousness of my arrogance; I have just discovered that humility was a virtue all along. I have lived, not according to faith but stubbornness. I’ve been unwilling to change who I am, convinced, as I have been, that I saw things correctly. It’s funny, now that I think of it, if not just a little tragic: however insecure I may be socially, however pointless I may think my existence, I’ve never questioned my judgment; it has always been something in which I’ve been supremely confident. For all my styling myself as a philosopher, I have yet to learn the lesson that started it all: that the one thing I know is that I know nothing. I speak, I think, I write without doubting myself, my ideas, because when I speak, when I assert, I can’t imagine that I am wrong.

I suppose this is a confession. Maybe a supplication, after all. Mom and Dad were right when they said that, for all that I was trying to pursue after God, I wasn’t making an allowance in my life to listen; Meghan told me more or less the same thing. I want her to read this – it is an open letter, after all, and hopefully an apology. I know that I have hurt her through my insecurities and my desperate need of her, and I hope it is not too late to rescue the friendship that was so promising. Perhaps this will be an act of faith, believing that whoever is meant to read it, will; placing no conditions on how this publication will turn out. As much as I do hope that this will be the right thing to say, the right profession to make, I think I’ve had enough of needing to constitute my world, of needing to be right and forcing reality to conform to my wishes.

I suppose this is as good a place to stop as any.

Current mood: insufferably arrogant

2006-03-08T20:26:00.000-06:00

Those of you who know me - and if you're reading this blog the odds are good that you do - are probably thinking to yourselves: this is something new?

I'm at Cambridge Coffee. A few minutes ago a guy was playing the piano. Schmaltzy, lyrical stuff. I don't have a problem with that. There's a part of me that did, but between the ex, and the current love of my life, my capacity for tolerance of people with divergent views has (necessarily) increased.

Then a girl in a group of college girls studying for a class asked if he could play the Canon in D.

So far, my insufferable arrogance meter is still below the (new) activation threshhold. Forget the fact that it's such an overblown, overpopular piece with the most recognizable ostinato in history (d, a, b, f#, g, d, g, a, repeat ad infinitum) and a melody that is TECHNICALLY SUPPOSED TO OVERLAP (it's a CANON FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!) and that people who play it NEVER get it right, I could handle that.

And then the girl said "It's awesome."

THAT set off the stupidity meter, and, incidentally, the smugness response.

The biggest problem, when I take over the planet, will be finding a reasonable way to delimit the coming purges. If your idea of an awesome piece of classical music is Canon in D, if the name Pachelbel is instantly associated with that dreamy, great piece of music, I'm sorry, but you'ld better be a F%@king NEUROSURGEON if you want to survive in the New Order (R). As I once made mention to my brother, there's no way that Country music is the Devil's music: he would have better taste.

Yes, I'm a snob. Yes, I'm PROUD of being a snob. There are few areas where I feel I can claim some sort of instant "expert" status where I feel completely justified in making binding pronouncements about the nature of reality, and feeling that if said pronouncements are not taken as the word of law, then the offending critter has thereby ceased demonstrating a sufficient grasp of reality to be worth dealing with. Philosophers without a scientific background discussing physics? Check. Classical music as discussed by anyone who doesn't have at least a minor in music? Ditto. Tolkien exegesis by people who've only seen the movies? Yeah, buddy.

I'm just saying, please, don't elevate my blood pressure, ok? It's not nice. If you're going to be a complete moron, keep it to yourself. Really, we don't NEED no stinkin' morons.

More OSC

2006-03-04T19:52:00.000-06:00

I just added two more links to that list over there ----->

Included is John Ringo's website. Not terribly much there, but hey, he's my favorite author.

Orson Scott Card's website, however, Hatrack River, has a bit more content. Card, a lifelong conservative Democrat, is also a keen political analyst, particularly of the problems plaguing his own Democratic Party. He's also a frequent reviewer of popular culture: I don't think I watch a tenth of the movies he reviews but the reviews are always pretty interesting.

Obligatory post of the day over.

Dinner with the Reese's

2006-03-04T06:01:00.000-06:00

There was no chocolate or peanut butter involved.

It was invitingly comfortable at their apartment. David made the comment that it was as if we had picked up in the middle of the same conversation we were having 8 years ago. He was absolutely right.

There’s something absolutely companionable to being with such a good, old friend. At this point in my life, the farthest I go back with anyone who isn’t a family member is ten years; I take that back: I’ve actually known Allen for 14 years. Still, even that length of time is not even half my life, and I’m still young enough that the simple fact that I have no friends I keep in contact with from my highschool days means that even old friends are relatively new ones.

Still, the quality of the friendship is worth commenting on, being a significant factor. There was this joke about me and David and James: I was the exact same person as David, and I was also the exact same person as James, which was ironic since David and James were nothing alike. (Chad might have commented something like: That’s because I, like (was it Walt Whitman?) contain multitudes.) It was… exactly like old times. Just hanging out with a good friend and an intellectual peer.

Also, it was wonderful meeting Leigh again. I know that she and I met before they were married, sometime roundish of 8 years ago, but I met her at most a handful of times, whereas I had known David for at least 3 or 4 years. Still, I got along wonderfully with her, as well, as if she and I were old friends, too. And (and apparently this seems to be a theme with friends of David’s who meet her) we were able to bond over cooking! And of course, I’m looking forward to introducing her to both Alton Brown and Penzeys Spices!

I gave David my pitch and explained to him in greater depth my philosophical theses on Differential Ontology. He’s not convinced I’m right, but he’s not convinced I’m wrong, either: he did concede that my demonstrating its applicability to other, philosophically abstruse areas (which, unfortunately, he isn’t in a position to fully appreciate, given that he’s not a professional philosopher) did make it’s the prospects of its applicability in political thought more sanguine. And he had some excellent suggestions for practical, viable political action, thinking in terms of operations, that I would be hopelessly out of touch to put together. There’s a potential for a good, complimentary team here, and just how much of an abstract, impractical theoretician I am at heart was rather forcefully drilled into my head by our conversation and our completely different tacks to approaching DO as an intellectual project with actual application potential. So, maybe I’ll actually pull of my dreams after all, neh?

Anyway, it was a very pleasant evening, after which I went and heard another old friend of mine play in a band doing reggae in a dive in Southside. Eventful evening, and I’ve even done some disserting. But it is not 6 AM and I must call it a night and retire.

Update: David's take on the evening can be found here.

I am a creature of chemicals

2006-03-01T08:22:00.000-06:00

"You've lost weight."
"One kind of stress puts it on, another takes it off. I am a creature of chemicals.”
- Col. Hyrum Graff, Ender's Game

Only in my case, the chemicals are all home-grown, in my very own chemical factory deep inside my pineal gland.

I have every intention of beating this. I hate being the hostage to what neurological balance happens to be cooking up there. I long for a steadily productive life.

I also plan to lose 40 pounds.

Mot Juste du Jour

2006-02-28T18:48:00.000-06:00

Nothing good ever came of a psychotic's laughter.

Color me impressed

2006-02-28T18:24:00.000-06:00

That Gillette Fusion razor I was talking about earlier just might be worth its purchase price.

I usually don't shave every day. Shaves on consecutive days are never as close as shaves two days apart, because razors can never get sufficient purchase on a mere day's worth of growth to really do a good job. Today was my first attempt to use the Fusion on consecutive days, and it WAS a close shave. I've never had a FIRST day's shave that was any closer, and never had a second consecutive day's shave that was remotely close.

Also, this is by far the most comfortable razor I have ever used. it seems to barely push against the skin, and as a result has far less razor burn than any other I've used.

I'll withhold judgment until I've used it for a while longer. But so far I am impressed.

Be nice to the site meter

2006-02-27T08:02:00.000-06:00

Yes, I have taken Logo's advice and gotten a site meter.

Be very nice to the site meter. Pet it, hug it, love it.

And get your friends reading my darn blog!

Blogvertising

2006-02-27T07:58:00.000-06:00

I've been annoyed with shaving lately. So, thanks to Instapundit I became aware of the new Gillette Fusion. I figured paying a lot for the newest, top-of-the-line razor made more sense than seeing a dermatologist BEFORE I shelled out money for a new razor.

The first shave was fantastic, but first shaves always are: the blades are new as is any built in lubricant. Still, it was a much less irritating than other blades I've used, and I'll let ya guys know how it turns out in a week or so.

Don Knotts has died.

2006-02-27T07:54:00.000-06:00

From CNN.com

Don Knotts, who kept generations of TV audiences laughing as bumbling Deputy Barney Fife on "The Andy Griffith Show" and would-be swinger landlord Ralph Furley on "Three's Company," has died. He was 81.

Knotts died Friday night of pulmonary and respiratory complications at the University of California, Los Angeles Medical Center, said Sherwin Bash, his friend and manager.

For the record, I don't like the Andy Griffith show, and Deputy Barney Fife is a big reason for that. But I had a great deal of respect of Knott's talent and performance. He seemed like one of the truly nice guys, and he will be missed

So what do I want to do? Part 1

2006-02-24T19:22:00.000-06:00

I was starting a journal entry – you know, those intractably introspective ones that substitute inertia for will, and that at least have the result of reinforcing some sort of activity. I’m terribly undisciplined and unfocussed. These aren’t self-criticisms: they are purely observational realities. I would hate to be (as my undgrad philosophy professor once described Soren Kierkergaard) merely a functional manic-depressive. I don’t like being hostage to my brain, and I don’t like being dependent on the chemicals in my brain being in just so a balance in order for me to be “productive” but at the moment, in the absence of any firmly established habit which will keep me writing on something that might, one day, contribute to my bread and butter, this will do.

That said, I realized, not only have I not actually published “what it is that I intend to do” anywhere, as a more important note, I haven’t actually written it down anywhere. I’m becoming a firm believer in the importance of infrastructure as an operating principle: lay up for yourselves investments in capital so that thou mayest do thy job easier in the future (putting aside money and earning interest is just a specific application of this more general principle). Perhaps more importantly, it is important to remember that investments in capital also take the form of shaping one’s character: get into a habit and stick with it, and you’ll be the kind of person that lives that kind of life. Train up a child in the way he should go…

Actually, there is a snippet of what it is that I want to do on my MySpace profile. It’s not too shabby, so I’ll quote it here:

If there is one overriding passion in my life, it is to understand "how things work" - not in a scientific or engineering sense, but in the broadest philosophical sense. I want to know how *we* work - what makes the human mind tick, our psychological, cognitive, and social makeup. I want to understand those areas of our world that are most treated like voodoo - economics, politics, gender relations, to name a few - and try to EXPLAIN how they work to other people. I am addicted to politics and political debate, and am often frustrated by the inability of conservatives and liberals to communicate with each other.I am convinced that if people just had a better understanding of what was really going on - how complex systems like economies or societies WORKED - much of the frustrating impasse between otherwise well-meaning people who fundamentally disagree about how to make the world a better place would simply disappear. I am - at the moment in baby steps - trying to accomplish just that. It took me years to figure out where I wanted to go, and some time after that to figure out how to get there. I have a keen intellect, a gift for writing, and a passion for understanding - both for myself and for the dissemination to others. I want to channel those gifts into a blog and use that as a portfolio to pursue a career in a think-tank. I know I have something new and important to say, and I'll be damned if I don't take the chance to say it.

Even this, however, doesn’t quite capture the flavor of the underlying intellectual currents which in form how I approach things like public policy. I suppose, too, that right now isn’t exactly the time to start going into the finer points of differential ontology. That of course, will be the meat and potatoes (am I on a food analogies kick today, or what?) of Cognitive Resonance. The point, as I was trying to pitch to David earlier today, is that what the world needs right now is better cognitive tools, and an education designed to provide them with it.

That’s what I need – no, scratch that, that’s what I want to be doing.

For those of you who think that I’m either making mountains out of molehills, bizarrely egotistical, absurdly idealistic, or any such combination or similar defect, I can only say, in the most reasonable tones I can, to go suck eggs. A clue for all you naysayers: this is a job that needs to be done. Or do you think that our governmental systems are indefinitely stable or even doing what they are supposed to be doing? Do you think that political disagreement and civil discourse are, well, civil? Do you not think that the very nature of political disagreements indicates a fundamental misunderstanding of socio-political realities by people in both camps? Do you think that navigating the dangerous waters of the post-nuclear, post-Cold War age is even possible if we don’t have our own shit together at home?

Ok, so there’s a problem, you admit. What makes me think that I have a viable solution in mind? Isn’t that the height of hubris?

Well it would be if I actually thought that. As I’ve already indicated, the solution is education and new conceptual tools. Yes, I think I have on what some of those may be, but ultimately the job is much bigger than any one person or any one idea. That doesn’t mean that I can’t make an important contribution; more to the point, it doesn’t mean I don’t have an important contribution to make. But that won’t happen if all I do is have neat ideas. It won’t even happen if I merely write them down, however broadly those ideas become disseminated. I don’t know what it is going to take, but it really is time for me to “go out there and do something” and “sitting here and writing” is something of a first step.

So, ok then. What’s my big idea?

I’m glad you asked…

Obligatory daily post

2006-02-24T17:54:00.000-06:00

Just some random thoughts.

I wanna try something. Does This Work?

Spoke with David today. Haven’t talked to him in a least five years, I think. Good to hear from him. I started my pitch to him and I wasn’t completely surprised to find out he had beat me to the punch in terms of practical application. As I told a friend last night, I’m thinking of moving to Polynesia.

Well, I’ll admit he’s a better musician than I am if he’ll admit I’m a better philosopher. I mean, this isn’t a competition (I keep telling myself) but you must understand, he and I really are the exact same person. I swear it’s freaky sometimes.

Seriously, my brain is thinking about something. I can feel it. There is enormous potential here. When I was in high school I had these silly play-fantasies about starting a corporation, vastly diversified, guided by my own uncompromising vision. This was, of course, long before I realized that raw, undisciplined intellect is about as effective in the real world as brute strength. Or, to contradict George Carlin, hard work isn’t just for people who lack talent. If anything, those who are talented have to work harder, because otherwise it’s entirely too easy to use intellect as a shortcut

And here I’ve never done a day’s hard work in my life.

Ok, I promised myself I would stop doing that sort of thing. So, apologies to myself for the self-deprecation (I am serious about that, btw: the whole reason I let other people kick me around is because I’m so terribly comfortable doing it myself) and let’s dust off and get going.

A few blog-style announcements:

Comments are enabled. I would love to hear what you guys might have to say about what I’ve written. As any blogger knows, it’s all about traffic, traffic, traffic, and knowing that people are reading you because you’re getting feedback is worth the price of admission.

By the same token, if you think you have friends who might find my shit worth reading, by all means send them the url. And don’t worry, you’re not REALLY helping me take over the world, one soul at a time.

Even more importantly, read everyone else’s blog, please! Send them my love!

Meghan’s website. Well, she’s simply the most wonderful, beautiful person I know (“Someday my name and hers are going to be the same” – Bus Stop) and you should get to know her too.

Logo. She’s a cool cat. Smart as a whip. (ok, so ALL my friends are, but ya know) and she’s the first person I ever met who had a Blogger.com account. So there ya go.

Cognitive Resonance. That’s where I’ll keep my philosophico-political musings once I get that rolling.

David’s blog. I haven’t read much of it yet but do what I say, not what I do.

Stephanie’s cool. Same as David’s blog, but I’m trying to make time ya know?

Instapundit. Needs no introduction, unless, of course, you’re living under a rock, or have a permanent aversion to politics.

MySpace and LiveJournal. Other bits of stuff. Mostly about me, narcissistic, etc. Feel free to skip.

Sluggy Freelance! is an absolutely wonderful webcomic. It’s a serial, started about 8 years ago. If you want to make heads or tails out of what’s going on, start at the beginning and work you way forward. As John Ringo says, prepare to lose two weeks of productivity.

Speaking of John Ringo, check out Baen books, publishers of damn fine science fiction.

Alright, that’s quite enough of this. Say hello to all my friends, read their blogs, and I’m gonna get back to work.

Must... write... blog...

2006-02-24T02:41:00.000-06:00

It’s been two and a half days.

Two and a half days without any linguistic/literary productivity.

I blame myself. (“You know you did you know you did you know you did / But in this ever changing world in which you live in… Makes you / Give in and cry / Live and Let Die….”)

Ok – I am supposed to stop DOING that. No more blaming of myself.

It’s a discipline problem. Really, it is. I burned myself out. Writing writing writing. How many entries did I write here? And elsewhere?

Yes, writing writing writing. To blogging then I came, writing writing writing writing.

They really shouldn’t let me out of the asylum. Of course, as Wonko the Sane might say, I’m really already Outside the Asylum. It’s the rest of them that are in it.

So long, and thanks for all the fish.

There are problems associated with cognitively offloading one’s moral imperatives so as to obviate the need to actively engage in value-laden judgments to action.

Translation: if you don’t need to push the trigger, you might sometimes never get the trigger pushed.

So then, you just have to push the trigger yourself. Even if such trigger-pushing activity is well kind of pointless. You know, like this post.

There really is a sort of self-perpetuating energy to this sort of thing. You start writing and sheer inertia keeps you moving. Unfortunately, what I need right now isn’t inertia to keep the fingers moving: it’s cognitive clarity to keep whatever ideas I have flowing.

I’ve been burnt out. Part of it was stuff that happened at work. After all, this has been a hell of a week, and even my coworkers acknowledge that this week I’ve been dealt a bit of a bum rap. On the other hand, I did everything – everything! – that I could possibly do earlier this week, in a burst of manic energy. And at the moment, having expended all that manic energy so brilliantly (“Only the good die young”) that in that burst of taking care of my shit I have burned myself out and have nothing left to give. All there is left is just the inertia that keeps my fingers typing. As if I could concentrate on matters of philosophy of free will. Or anything else worthwhile, for that matter.

Although, as a matter of record, I AM helping a friend out with her physics homework right now.

Anyway, at this point, I need to figure out a way to replenish my depleted stores of mental energy and get back to working on my dissertation. I really CAN’T afford to drift three days in a row. But, that being said, this must be a gentle operation. According to a friend of mine, you don’t respond well if you are harsh to yourself. I need to… gentle my mind into working on philosophy again. Maybe just getting it to like writing is what you gotta do. Hence this post, jah?

We’ll see how it goes.

The kinds of things I worry about

2006-02-21T07:13:00.000-06:00

I succumbed to a moral failing this morning on the drive home from work.

I was pulling onto the highway. The lane I was in was technically a right turn lane onto a side road, so I needed to get into a middle lane. There was a garbage truck barrelling up the highway - at this point the highway is headed uphill. He was doing the speed limit; I was not. But my lane was running out, so I pulled out in front of him. He hit the brakes (necessarily) and lost a LOT of momentum. He ended up way behind me as I accelerated up to the top of the hill - obviously I had more acceleration than he did at 45 mph. But I cost him a lot of momentum; had I not pulled out in front of him he could have easily made it to the top of the hill at a reasonable cruising speed.

This is all very important.

Let us leave aside any possible moral implications towards acting in such a manner as to facilitate the degradation of the environment. (Say what you will about the environmental movement, but the raw expenditure of fuel is, on balance, a negative for the environment.) To understand where I am coming from, it is important to note that on my moral reckoning, stupidity and rudeness are both aspects of the same sin: they are both forms of inconsiderateness; they are both the result of a failure to think.

Heedlessness is, without question, the great moral failing of our age.

I might have been able to stay in my lane until the truck passed me by. Techinically it was a turning lane but there was no on on the side road, and the lane kept running past that side road until it ended at the next one. I might have downshifted and moved into a lower gear, gunning the gas pedal. I might have slipped two lanes left and let him pass me on the right. I'm not saying any of these options would have been the right course of action to pursue, that any of them would have been preferable, or that I wouldn't have, after evaluating all my choices, simply done exactly what I did do. All of that is irrelevant.

What matters is that I didn't even consider these options. I simply pulled out in front of someone else. I cost them a significant amount of energy. And I didn't even think about doing something different.

This is at the heart of what I consider moral behavior: a willingness to sacrifice a part of one's own energy in return for an even greater savings for someone else. It is this principle which underlies the philosophical problem of altruism, the evolutionary doctrine of kin-selection, and pretty much the entire mathematical field of Game Theory.

It is a basic, metaphysical drive towards greater stability, through division of costs and pooling of resources. That it's a pervasive aspect of our physical universe ought to impress us as to its importance. That it's a form of activity which we, as human beings, should be able to consciously select places us under special obligation. After all, how can we be blameless for failing to choose what even the blind, impersonal laws of nature recognize as the most effective means of helping others?

It's in these small, trivial moments of heedlessness that we acquire the habit of thinking that it's ok to let opportunities for genuine service by. If we're ever going to be better persons ourselves, if we're ever going to change the world as we are meant to change it, we must learn not to let ourselves fall asleep.

Floating Holiday

2006-02-21T06:46:00.000-06:00

E-ran into an old friend. I'm annoyed, immediately, that a) he's been blogging a lot longer than I have and more importantly b) that he has a blogroll that includes the likes of Lileks and Reynolds and NRO. The guy frickin' PAYS ATTENTION TO POLITICS. I mean GEEZ. Next thing I know, he's gonna tell me he's angling for a think tank job. He does that and I'm moving to Polynesia.

And it gets worse. He's SMARTER than me. Look, there are very few things in life I handle worse than someone who's IQ is demonstrably higher than mine. Well, this guy GRADUATED from college at the same age I STARTED. (For the record, I started at 17) Ok, so, I usually made better, and more salient, points in philosophy classes, but for crying out loud, I was 4 years older than him. Age and experience HAD to count for something. And that one thing I might have going for me - I have a doctorate and I don't think he does - he might tho, and it really would annoy me if he did - well, I don't even have mine yet. Grrr.

Anyway, I love this guy like a brother, even if he HASN'T FRICKIN' BOTHERED TO KEEP UP WITH ME over the past five years. So, Mad Props to my dear friend David, and by all means, check out his blog, Floating Holiday.

Lotsa Love, my friend. Here's to the renewal of a true friendship.

The Wisdom of Blogs

2006-02-20T15:37:00.000-06:00

Something I haven't done before: portal my blog.

Crossposted from Cognitive Resonance

Compared to the mainstream media, blogging is faster. Bloggers don’t have to wait for the next day’s newspaper or even the six-o-clock news bulletin. They post their thoughts whenever they occur to them. But the principal benefit of the internet, in general, and blogging, in particular, is not speed but interactivity. Television is a passive medium. It feeds pre-packaged reports to a largely docile audience. Homes in which television is dominant produce less civically-engaged citizens. Web-logs are a different form of media. They are like the town hall meetings of old but they assemble expert rather than geographical communities. The best blogs encourage comments from their readers. Some of these comments are almost inevitably unreadable but many visiting commentators understand more about the subject under discussion than any generalist TV reporter could ever know.

From The Business Online Hat tip: Instapundit

(The article also references An Army of Davids and The Wisdom of Crowds)

And what does all this have to do with anything? Right now what we have with the internet is, as Reynolds points out, an infrastructure that levels the playing field, and gives the individual the power to take on the big boys. Plus, it empowers individuals en masse to take on the corporations and organizations which are capable of simply bringing more resources to the table.

Of course, even the internet will become, if not corporatized, then at least strucutured. Specifically, infrastructured, with allegiances, alliances, and the uncoordinated but self-organizing work of diverse individuals falling into stable collectives that amplify only selected themes. Of course, that is the way of all things: distillation is the way to reification, after all.

Reynolds himself is on the forefront of this wave, being an invited member of Pajamas Media and I certainly don't begrudge the Wild West attitude of the blogososphere. And I would hate to style myself a prophet of gloom and doom. But by the same token, the web is not heaven, and free and universal access is not, in itself, a remedy against the propensity of individuals to form stable, mutually supporting structures. The Web might be a great force for education and a great repository for wisdom; and chaos might just be the best way to ensure the continued survival of the potential it liberates.

But it would be a mistake to forget that chaos inevitably organizes.

Differential Ontology 105

2006-02-20T08:35:00.000-06:00

It's not 101 because this isn't the most fundamental tenet of Differential Ontology. But it's the one that has been most on my mind lately.

Repeat after me, class: The investment in infrastructure is the mechanism for the evolution of higher levels of organization and organism. Remember that organisms are coupled with their enviornment, and that their interactions with thsmelves need not lead to a linear extrapolation of the higher level from a reduction possible to the lower level. Combining the two effects: organisms with invested infrastructure - either of their own, through construction, inheritance, or acquisition; or shared, communal infrastructure - interacting together to form levels that operate according to their own rules which cannot be reduced to the level of the organsims.

Translation: patterns exist which cannot be captured by or reduced to the operation of the individuals. (that's D.O. 101) However, the indivual itself must be considered as coupled with its infrastructrue, and it is qua that coupling that they are efficacious in bringing about higher levels.

I'll epxlain what all this means later; for now it was more important that I wrote it down. Good luck finding the magic decoder ring.

An interesting exercise

2006-02-18T01:18:00.000-06:00

Hat tip: Logo

Here's your chance to tell me what you think about me. This looks pretty cool - it gives you a chance to evaluate what you think of me, both positively and negatively, and it gives me a chance to see for myself what you guys thought.

I'm all about self-understanding, so I'ld be much appreciative if ya'll did this for me....