Here's what gets me.
People have been upset with bearers of bad news at least as far back as the days of Sophocles, Euripides and Aeschylus, the writers of tragedies in which a messenger could be killed just for bringing the king some bad news.
Nowadays, we don't kill the journalists for giving us bad news; we seem to thrive on it and demand they give us more.
Oh, every decade or so there will be complaints that newspapers just report bad news and never good news, and some newspaper will be started that proudly proclaims it will print only good news. Then it will lose money and go out of business, because people are more interested in tragic events than in happy events ... unless, of course, the events happen to them.
Remember, the Greeks invented tragedies before they invented comedies. Bad news allows us to feel good about ourselves, to feel pity for the sufferers and fear that the events could happen to us and to achieve a catharsis of those emotions.
Comedies, however, make us laugh and allow us to feel smug about our happiness. Greek tragedies were about the nobility, but comedies were about common people. Then the moralists of the 16th and 17th centuries decided that the purpose of comedy was not only to amuse and entertain, but also to instruct.
So, what would you rather read about (or more likely these days, watch on TV), the latest scandals about Washington politicians, foreign nobility and Hollywood stars or the fact that the reported number of crimes went down last month?
Bad news doesn't usually come with the admonition that we shouldn't act this way, but have you noticed how popular TV sit-coms usually end with a moral?
When I was young, I wanted to be a newspaper reporter. I was fascinated with the challenge of gathering all the facts about a story and then writing those facts according to journalistic formulas so that the least common denominator, Everyreader, could understand them without difficulty.
However, newspaper reporters didn't make very much money, Woodward and Bernstein hadn't made investigative journalism fashionable yet and the epitome of TV journalism was Edward R. Murrow, not some blow-dried performer who just reads the teleprompter.
Later, whenever any argument arose about journalism, I always defended the reporters. They were doing their job. Bad things happen. People would rather hear about bad news than good news.
And yet I have become extremely upset with TV reporters and their stupid questions.
Why ask an accused criminal "Did you do it?" Do you believe a criminal will suddenly confess on national TV instead of to the police? Does another denial give the audience any more insight about the story?
Why ask anyone "How do you feel?" How do you believe anybody feels after tragically losing a loved one, surviving an accident or winning the Super Bowl?
And why do journalists insist on inserting their own opinions? I have a rule of never answering a question beginning with a negative. "Don't you feel the proposed health plan will cost the taxpayers too much money?" is a weak way to ask for someone's opinion, because the reporter's opinion overshadows the question and any answer.
I have always wanted to be part of an important story, just so I could counter reporters' stupid questions.
"Did I do it? That's a stupid question."
"I feel like you have just asked another stupid question."
"Don't you feel that by asking your question that way, you are just giving your own opinion instead of asking for mine?"
And speaking of opinions, who cares what the public believes? Why do so many TV and radio shows keep asking for public opinions? A Denver morning TV "news" program once asked, "Does it seem like you have a lot of bad hair days?" Back then people actually paid money to call in their one little vote.
Why are there so many daytime talk shows? In 1961 Jackie Gleason probably started the first prime-time TV talk show when he sat down with just one guest and they simply talked. I believe Phil Donahue established the pattern of involving audiences, taking phone calls and having guests with unusual problems or stories.
Perhaps fascination with dirty laundry is nothing more than wanting to feel fear and pity for the catharsis, being able to feel smug at the absurdity of other people's lives and watching tragedies about the common folk for a change.
I rest my case.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Sunday, November 20, 2011
No, Virginia, There Is No God
Here's what gets me.
Every December many newspapers resurrect an 1897 editorial from the old New York Sun in which Francis P. Church answered the famous question from 8-year-old Virginia O'Hanlon.
Perhaps Virginia is grown up enough now to ask a larger, more serious question: "Please tell me the truth: Is there a God?"
Virginia, forgive us. When you were young, adults thought you needed to be protected from your fears, and we believed it would be better if you continued to believe in Santa Claus, when all reason and logic told you there was no jolly old elf.
Remember, we cannot prove a negative hypothesis. We cannot logically prove that something does not exist. So, just as we cannot prove that Santa Claus does not exist, we cannot prove that God does not exist. But just as Santa Claus is a myth created for the comfort and joy of little children to give them hope against a cold, dark Christmas night, perhaps God is another myth created for the comfort of little bands of people to give them courage against a cold, dark unknown world.
No, Virginia, all deductions and reason tell us there is no God. We have grown old and wise enough now that in our hearts we know we can no longer lay the world's blames on someone else. We can recognize the heartbreak and tragedy that occur when something horrible or absurd results from someone acting in the name of God. Let's face reality: Mankind created God in our own image to do our bidding, and surely the world has suffered enough from all the wars and atrocities that have occurred because people believed they alone knew the meaning of God.
Not believe in God? Yes, we do face the danger of losing a reason to be kind and do good without a belief in God. But we can rely on intelligence and common sense in order to be kind and do good, not some ancient commandment on a tablet handed down through a self-proclaimed intermediary. We are no longer frightened savages huddled in caves around a fire, we are no longer children afraid of growing up and needing the comfort of the belief in something larger than ourselves, smarter than ourselves, more grandiose than ourselves.
"Do unto others as you would have them do unto you" makes good sense, no matter who tells us to do it. "Do unto others exactly as they did unto you" is only a short-term correction of bad activity, and it can lead to less intelligent people killing themselves all off so that we are again left with a small band of frightened savages huddled in a cave around a fire, instead of a globe-filled, worldwide band of humanity loving and helping each other for our humanity, still staring at the stars in wonder.
If God does exist, why are there so many different religions and versions of God like so many Santa Clauses at every public mall? Would God be so vain, so human, to watch such widespread pain and suffering that occurs in the name of religion?
Why do some believe only they have the authority to speak for God? Be suspicious of anyone claiming to speak on behalf of God, because that means we are again being treated like children. But we are grown up now, and our parents are dead.
Yes, what about Heaven? Of course death is frightening. After the joy of life, the idea of absolute, spine-chilling, subzero nothing is frightening to us all. But a false hope of an afterlife is as perverse as the false hope of a jolly little man squeezing down our chimneys with good cheer and presents for us all.
And what about angels and that tunnel of light at death? Well, we know how powerful our own imaginations can be, we know how "real" our dreams can be. Perhaps our minds make us dream at the moment of death to help us through that last experience of all, and just as we sometimes dream about something we heard about, read about or actually experienced, our interrupted last dream could be as common as dreams of flying or being naked in a crowd.
No God! Yes, the idea is frightening. It means we are finally responsible for our own actions, our own destiny. But it also means we have that much more responsibility to be kind and to do good while we are here.
I rest my case.
Every December many newspapers resurrect an 1897 editorial from the old New York Sun in which Francis P. Church answered the famous question from 8-year-old Virginia O'Hanlon.
Perhaps Virginia is grown up enough now to ask a larger, more serious question: "Please tell me the truth: Is there a God?"
Virginia, forgive us. When you were young, adults thought you needed to be protected from your fears, and we believed it would be better if you continued to believe in Santa Claus, when all reason and logic told you there was no jolly old elf.
Remember, we cannot prove a negative hypothesis. We cannot logically prove that something does not exist. So, just as we cannot prove that Santa Claus does not exist, we cannot prove that God does not exist. But just as Santa Claus is a myth created for the comfort and joy of little children to give them hope against a cold, dark Christmas night, perhaps God is another myth created for the comfort of little bands of people to give them courage against a cold, dark unknown world.
No, Virginia, all deductions and reason tell us there is no God. We have grown old and wise enough now that in our hearts we know we can no longer lay the world's blames on someone else. We can recognize the heartbreak and tragedy that occur when something horrible or absurd results from someone acting in the name of God. Let's face reality: Mankind created God in our own image to do our bidding, and surely the world has suffered enough from all the wars and atrocities that have occurred because people believed they alone knew the meaning of God.
Not believe in God? Yes, we do face the danger of losing a reason to be kind and do good without a belief in God. But we can rely on intelligence and common sense in order to be kind and do good, not some ancient commandment on a tablet handed down through a self-proclaimed intermediary. We are no longer frightened savages huddled in caves around a fire, we are no longer children afraid of growing up and needing the comfort of the belief in something larger than ourselves, smarter than ourselves, more grandiose than ourselves.
"Do unto others as you would have them do unto you" makes good sense, no matter who tells us to do it. "Do unto others exactly as they did unto you" is only a short-term correction of bad activity, and it can lead to less intelligent people killing themselves all off so that we are again left with a small band of frightened savages huddled in a cave around a fire, instead of a globe-filled, worldwide band of humanity loving and helping each other for our humanity, still staring at the stars in wonder.
If God does exist, why are there so many different religions and versions of God like so many Santa Clauses at every public mall? Would God be so vain, so human, to watch such widespread pain and suffering that occurs in the name of religion?
Why do some believe only they have the authority to speak for God? Be suspicious of anyone claiming to speak on behalf of God, because that means we are again being treated like children. But we are grown up now, and our parents are dead.
Yes, what about Heaven? Of course death is frightening. After the joy of life, the idea of absolute, spine-chilling, subzero nothing is frightening to us all. But a false hope of an afterlife is as perverse as the false hope of a jolly little man squeezing down our chimneys with good cheer and presents for us all.
And what about angels and that tunnel of light at death? Well, we know how powerful our own imaginations can be, we know how "real" our dreams can be. Perhaps our minds make us dream at the moment of death to help us through that last experience of all, and just as we sometimes dream about something we heard about, read about or actually experienced, our interrupted last dream could be as common as dreams of flying or being naked in a crowd.
No God! Yes, the idea is frightening. It means we are finally responsible for our own actions, our own destiny. But it also means we have that much more responsibility to be kind and to do good while we are here.
I rest my case.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Culberson's Challenge
Here's what gets me.
Rational thinkers need a corollary with which to counter Pascal's Wager, which essentially is "Either God exists or doesn't exist, but if so and I believe in God, I will go to Heaven instead of Hell after I die; if God doesn't exist, I have lost nothing."
That's not believing; that's just saying you believe.
By that reasoning, then you might as well follow the teachings of your chosen "God." Otherwise, you are admitting that your "God" is so weak as to be fooled by lip-service believers and lets anyone into Heaven just for half-hearted belief, not for good deeds. That's not a God. That's a bored security guard.
Blaise Pascal lived from 1623 to 1662 in France and was a brilliant scientist, mathematician, and writer who also invented a calculating machine at 18. In 1654 he had a "mystical experience" and converted to Jansenism, a doctrine of the sect of Roman Catholics in opposition to the Jesuits.
In other words, Pascal himself had doubts about what he had been taught as a Roman Catholic, and if that isn't enough to make his so-called "wager" suspect, consider that he also wrote "Men blaspheme what they do not know" and "Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction," both in his Lettres Provinciales [1656-1657].
So, for all you people with such weak religious belief that you take the easy way out to literally "save your soul" or with such weak intelligence that you cannot decide for yourselves what to believe, here is Culberson's Challenge:
Assume there is no "God." Then, priests, cardinals, the Pope, preachers, ministers, and all other self-appointed spokespeople for "God" are either liars or deluded into ignoring the empirical evidence of science and mistakenly believing that God exists.
Either way, they are not to be trusted, and as the growing evidence of widespread sexual misconduct mounts, that would seem to be the case.
Now assume there is a God who created us and all the so-called reality around us: the planets, the solar system, the stars, the universe, and the "world." Then we are all merely figments of God's own imagination and therefore do not exist outside of that imagination.
However, if we are figments of God's imagination, if we are manufactured "real" creatures in God's own image, or if we are truly independent sentient beings with or without free will, what would eternity in either Heaven or Hell mean? We would eventually become used to our existence in either one and inured to the pain that supposedly awaits us in the one and bored in the other of those futures.
And name one other thing in nature that lasts forever without wearing out, running down, burning up, or simply dying.
Therefore, I propose that neither future of "eternity" is anything to aspire to, and consequently believing in the existence of "God" is of no benefit whatsoever while we are alive, just as not believing in Santa Claus when we were children didn't change whether we got Christmas presents from our parents.
Thus, I challenge you either to give up your belief in a supreme being who supposedly created you and controls you and the world, or else to continue your disbelief in such a mythology, because either way, you lose nothing.
Of course, there are some misguided fools who will not accept this challenge and say, "Better safe than sorry," which is merely religious belief by slogans and sayings.
This thinking is the basis for all religious belief, and it is the most dangerous aspect of believing in a "God," because it leads to this sort of logic:
"There must be a God, because everybody says there is. Therefore, I can lead my life believing in God and do anything I want to, because if I ever do anything that God doesn't want me to do, God will stop me. Therefore, I can do anything I want until God stops me, including trying to convince as many other people I can that God exists, because there is 'strength in numbers,' and the more people who believe in God increases the chances that God does exist."
If you accept my challenge and choose to live without a belief in God, your life on earth will be much less complicated and frustrating and stressful, and it will be much more rewarding, enjoyable, and definitely free of self-imposed religious pressure.
"God" loses. You win.
I rest my case.
Rational thinkers need a corollary with which to counter Pascal's Wager, which essentially is "Either God exists or doesn't exist, but if so and I believe in God, I will go to Heaven instead of Hell after I die; if God doesn't exist, I have lost nothing."
That's not believing; that's just saying you believe.
By that reasoning, then you might as well follow the teachings of your chosen "God." Otherwise, you are admitting that your "God" is so weak as to be fooled by lip-service believers and lets anyone into Heaven just for half-hearted belief, not for good deeds. That's not a God. That's a bored security guard.
Blaise Pascal lived from 1623 to 1662 in France and was a brilliant scientist, mathematician, and writer who also invented a calculating machine at 18. In 1654 he had a "mystical experience" and converted to Jansenism, a doctrine of the sect of Roman Catholics in opposition to the Jesuits.
In other words, Pascal himself had doubts about what he had been taught as a Roman Catholic, and if that isn't enough to make his so-called "wager" suspect, consider that he also wrote "Men blaspheme what they do not know" and "Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction," both in his Lettres Provinciales [1656-1657].
So, for all you people with such weak religious belief that you take the easy way out to literally "save your soul" or with such weak intelligence that you cannot decide for yourselves what to believe, here is Culberson's Challenge:
Assume there is no "God." Then, priests, cardinals, the Pope, preachers, ministers, and all other self-appointed spokespeople for "God" are either liars or deluded into ignoring the empirical evidence of science and mistakenly believing that God exists.
Either way, they are not to be trusted, and as the growing evidence of widespread sexual misconduct mounts, that would seem to be the case.
Now assume there is a God who created us and all the so-called reality around us: the planets, the solar system, the stars, the universe, and the "world." Then we are all merely figments of God's own imagination and therefore do not exist outside of that imagination.
However, if we are figments of God's imagination, if we are manufactured "real" creatures in God's own image, or if we are truly independent sentient beings with or without free will, what would eternity in either Heaven or Hell mean? We would eventually become used to our existence in either one and inured to the pain that supposedly awaits us in the one and bored in the other of those futures.
And name one other thing in nature that lasts forever without wearing out, running down, burning up, or simply dying.
Therefore, I propose that neither future of "eternity" is anything to aspire to, and consequently believing in the existence of "God" is of no benefit whatsoever while we are alive, just as not believing in Santa Claus when we were children didn't change whether we got Christmas presents from our parents.
Thus, I challenge you either to give up your belief in a supreme being who supposedly created you and controls you and the world, or else to continue your disbelief in such a mythology, because either way, you lose nothing.
Of course, there are some misguided fools who will not accept this challenge and say, "Better safe than sorry," which is merely religious belief by slogans and sayings.
This thinking is the basis for all religious belief, and it is the most dangerous aspect of believing in a "God," because it leads to this sort of logic:
"There must be a God, because everybody says there is. Therefore, I can lead my life believing in God and do anything I want to, because if I ever do anything that God doesn't want me to do, God will stop me. Therefore, I can do anything I want until God stops me, including trying to convince as many other people I can that God exists, because there is 'strength in numbers,' and the more people who believe in God increases the chances that God does exist."
If you accept my challenge and choose to live without a belief in God, your life on earth will be much less complicated and frustrating and stressful, and it will be much more rewarding, enjoyable, and definitely free of self-imposed religious pressure.
"God" loses. You win.
I rest my case.
Sunday, November 06, 2011
Another Modest Proposal
Here's what gets me.
I think it is agreed by all parties that this abortion problem is a nasty business. Tempers have flared, curses have been shouted and people killed, not to mention both innocent and guilty bystanders swept by their emotions to commit unnatural acts in the name of decency and the "right thing to do"--and I'm just talking about outside the clinics.
Ever since Jan. 23, 1973, and the sexual peak of Baby Boomers everywhere, no solution proposed so far is going to satisfy everyone, because both sides currently have valid arguments. The pro-choice proponents believe that a woman has the right to do what she wants to her body and she can choose to prevent an unwanted child just as readily as she can choose to prevent an unwanted tumor, although certainly with more emotional involvement.
The pro-life proponents (or, by extension, the anti-choice people) believe that the "state," the government, society, other people or even God has the right if not the duty to do what it wants in order to prevent people from living a life of free will.
Hasn't anyone else recognized that this argument was angrily conducted centuries ago with great acrimony, hard feelings and probably lost lives and that therefore society is moving backwards?
Well, Ladies, Gentlemen and Others, I have a solution to the problem as plain as your own backyard or living-room easy chair: namely, our pets.
The idea came to me when I acquired a kitten from the Humane Society and afterwards watched a disgusting, predestination-disguised, anti-choice commercial that was crude in its production values, but just as slick in its manipulative techniques as any Madison Avenue, truth-mangling, morality-bending, self-aggrandizing advertisement.
When I bought the kitten, I was pressured into having it neutered. I was amazed that both the Humane Society and my veterinarian were so cavalier about a practice that is nothing more than a subversive act that eventually should put them both out of work.
Of course! Neither the Humane Society nor veterinarians would be so naive as to work toward putting themselves out of business, so something noble must be behind their desire to have a world full of aging, non-procreating pets.
And therein lies the solution to the problem of pro-choice, pro-life, anti-choice, anti-life, free-will, predestination, pro-abortion, anti-abortion dilemma: Whenever a child is born or whenever a child is adopted, neuter it. Snip-snip.
Only then can we cease this senseless anger, fighting, demonstrating and killing that is pitting sister against sister, brother against brother and family against family over a matter that should be between a woman and her conscience.
"What?" you say? "That would be silly!" you say? "Not to mention stupid and inhuman!" you say?
Not if we call it "humane." The time-honored tradition of society and Madison Avenue is to use language to sway thinking. Therefore, we simply call the act of desexing all children at birth and adoption the "Humane Solution," and all our worries about unwanted children, the agonizing of abortion and the morality of the way we live others' lives is over. Snip-snip.
"Wait a minute!" you say? "If all children are prevented from having children of their own, then how does that affect future generations?" you say?
Now, I don't want to sound callous or unfeeling, but another time-honored tradition of society and government is to answer "That's their problem." I am sure that pro-choice advocates, pro-life advocates and busybodies everywhere are more concerned with the immediate problem: how to prevent unwanted children and how to prevent women from destroying society by doing what they want to their own bodies.
Otherwise, we need only look at our own backyards and living-room easy chairs again. The practice and pressure of neutering our pets certainly hasn't created a shortage of pets. The unnatural but humane act of forcing our will upon the nature of pet procreation hasn't caused us any sleepless nights, and those pets are coming from somewhere.
Perhaps it's as simple as "Nature always finds a way."
Now, to head off any accusations that I have a personal interest in my proposal, I have no other motive than the public good of society by relieving the suffering of women, satisfying the desires of the religious and giving some short-term business to doctors. I have no children by which I can get a single penny, the youngest being 42 years old, and I am not a doctor nor do I play one on TV.
I rest my case.
I think it is agreed by all parties that this abortion problem is a nasty business. Tempers have flared, curses have been shouted and people killed, not to mention both innocent and guilty bystanders swept by their emotions to commit unnatural acts in the name of decency and the "right thing to do"--and I'm just talking about outside the clinics.
Ever since Jan. 23, 1973, and the sexual peak of Baby Boomers everywhere, no solution proposed so far is going to satisfy everyone, because both sides currently have valid arguments. The pro-choice proponents believe that a woman has the right to do what she wants to her body and she can choose to prevent an unwanted child just as readily as she can choose to prevent an unwanted tumor, although certainly with more emotional involvement.
The pro-life proponents (or, by extension, the anti-choice people) believe that the "state," the government, society, other people or even God has the right if not the duty to do what it wants in order to prevent people from living a life of free will.
Hasn't anyone else recognized that this argument was angrily conducted centuries ago with great acrimony, hard feelings and probably lost lives and that therefore society is moving backwards?
Well, Ladies, Gentlemen and Others, I have a solution to the problem as plain as your own backyard or living-room easy chair: namely, our pets.
The idea came to me when I acquired a kitten from the Humane Society and afterwards watched a disgusting, predestination-disguised, anti-choice commercial that was crude in its production values, but just as slick in its manipulative techniques as any Madison Avenue, truth-mangling, morality-bending, self-aggrandizing advertisement.
When I bought the kitten, I was pressured into having it neutered. I was amazed that both the Humane Society and my veterinarian were so cavalier about a practice that is nothing more than a subversive act that eventually should put them both out of work.
Of course! Neither the Humane Society nor veterinarians would be so naive as to work toward putting themselves out of business, so something noble must be behind their desire to have a world full of aging, non-procreating pets.
And therein lies the solution to the problem of pro-choice, pro-life, anti-choice, anti-life, free-will, predestination, pro-abortion, anti-abortion dilemma: Whenever a child is born or whenever a child is adopted, neuter it. Snip-snip.
Only then can we cease this senseless anger, fighting, demonstrating and killing that is pitting sister against sister, brother against brother and family against family over a matter that should be between a woman and her conscience.
"What?" you say? "That would be silly!" you say? "Not to mention stupid and inhuman!" you say?
Not if we call it "humane." The time-honored tradition of society and Madison Avenue is to use language to sway thinking. Therefore, we simply call the act of desexing all children at birth and adoption the "Humane Solution," and all our worries about unwanted children, the agonizing of abortion and the morality of the way we live others' lives is over. Snip-snip.
"Wait a minute!" you say? "If all children are prevented from having children of their own, then how does that affect future generations?" you say?
Now, I don't want to sound callous or unfeeling, but another time-honored tradition of society and government is to answer "That's their problem." I am sure that pro-choice advocates, pro-life advocates and busybodies everywhere are more concerned with the immediate problem: how to prevent unwanted children and how to prevent women from destroying society by doing what they want to their own bodies.
Otherwise, we need only look at our own backyards and living-room easy chairs again. The practice and pressure of neutering our pets certainly hasn't created a shortage of pets. The unnatural but humane act of forcing our will upon the nature of pet procreation hasn't caused us any sleepless nights, and those pets are coming from somewhere.
Perhaps it's as simple as "Nature always finds a way."
Now, to head off any accusations that I have a personal interest in my proposal, I have no other motive than the public good of society by relieving the suffering of women, satisfying the desires of the religious and giving some short-term business to doctors. I have no children by which I can get a single penny, the youngest being 42 years old, and I am not a doctor nor do I play one on TV.
I rest my case.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
You Are Woman, I Am Man
Here's what gets me.
It seems to me that whenever society identifies and labels a "problem," it is more concerned with identifying and blaming the "cause" of that problem, much less trying to solve the problem and even much less determining that a problem really exists.
I believe all problems can be blamed on stupidity (to put it harshly), lack of intelligence (to put it moderately) or lack of common sense (to put it mildly).
For example, take a problem that exists between men and women. Please!
Now, the common methodology of problem solving consists of (1) Identify the problem, (2) Imagine all possible solutions to the problem and (3) Select the best possible solution.
Have any of the disgruntled participants (that is, all men and women) bothered to identify the problem other than to make erroneous, inflammatory generalizations such as "All men are rapists," "All women are emasculators" or "All people are stupid"? (Okay, okay! That last generalization was mine.)
As I see it, the problem from women's point of view is women are jealous of men (to put it harshly), women are dissatisfied with their traditional roles in society (to put it moderately) or women think men are pigs (to put it mildly).
From the men's point of view, women are making a big deal over nothing (to put it harshly), women are dissatisfied with their traditional roles in society (moderately) or all men are pigs (etc.).
The only simple identification of the "problem" is "A problem exists between men and women."
Logically, that is no more helpful than the incomplete and asinine syllogism of "Pigs is pigs," "Business is business" or "Men are men and women are women."
Many people believe problems are solved by blaming the cause of the problem, changing that cause and voila! Problem solved.
Fine, but first you have to identify the problem, and so far all we have is "The problem is a problem."
Assuming that a problem exists (which is true, because some people are unhappy and everybody's desired state is happiness), what if we accepted the notion that not all "problems" can be solved? What if we decided (1) a problem exists between men and women, (2) problems have always existed between men and women and (3) how can we live with those problems as comfortably as possible?
Well, one way is to stop blaming men for the problem, stop blaming women and start blaming nature.
"What?" you say? "Blame nature?" you say? "That's stupid!" Right! If you would rather blame the cause of problems than solve them, blame stupidity, because if we were all smarter, we would prevent problems from ever occurring.
Stupidity is simply the quality or state of being very dull in mind.
Let's face it: According to the Bell Curve of Intelligence, some of us are very dull in mind. Nobody wants to be, but facts are facts. In fact, the majority of us are dull in mind.
Which brings me to the Embarrassing Sixties. I believe the "problem" between men and women gathered momentum during that silly decade.
Baby Boomers were protesting that everybody should be treated as equals. Men burned their draft cards to protest the war in Vietnam. ("Hell, no! We won't go!") Women burned their bras to protest the war of the sexes. ("Hell, no! Let 'em flow!")
Now, as a young man I was turned on by all the sudden influx of unfettered breasts, knowing the only thing separating my eyes from forbidden fruit was one thin layer of cloth, not cloth, latex and wire underpinnings.
And while nobody was watching, we all got stupider. We started to believe that everybody was equal, or else, they should be. We started to give every kid a colored ribbon in school races, because no one should have low self-esteem. We started to ignore rules of grammar in school compositions, because creativity should flow and not be stifled. And we started to believe that men and women should be equal, because ... fair is fair.
But Nobody said life is fair. Men and women are not created equal. Men have penises, testosterone and agressive upbringings. Women have vaginas, estrogen and passive upbringings. And those are just the majority of the people on the old Bell Curve of Sexuality.
Previously, men could get into trouble by repeating the lyrics "You are woman, I am man: Let's kiss."
Why can't we just accept the mantra, "We are all people: Let's lighten up"?
I rest my case.
It seems to me that whenever society identifies and labels a "problem," it is more concerned with identifying and blaming the "cause" of that problem, much less trying to solve the problem and even much less determining that a problem really exists.
I believe all problems can be blamed on stupidity (to put it harshly), lack of intelligence (to put it moderately) or lack of common sense (to put it mildly).
For example, take a problem that exists between men and women. Please!
Now, the common methodology of problem solving consists of (1) Identify the problem, (2) Imagine all possible solutions to the problem and (3) Select the best possible solution.
Have any of the disgruntled participants (that is, all men and women) bothered to identify the problem other than to make erroneous, inflammatory generalizations such as "All men are rapists," "All women are emasculators" or "All people are stupid"? (Okay, okay! That last generalization was mine.)
As I see it, the problem from women's point of view is women are jealous of men (to put it harshly), women are dissatisfied with their traditional roles in society (to put it moderately) or women think men are pigs (to put it mildly).
From the men's point of view, women are making a big deal over nothing (to put it harshly), women are dissatisfied with their traditional roles in society (moderately) or all men are pigs (etc.).
The only simple identification of the "problem" is "A problem exists between men and women."
Logically, that is no more helpful than the incomplete and asinine syllogism of "Pigs is pigs," "Business is business" or "Men are men and women are women."
Many people believe problems are solved by blaming the cause of the problem, changing that cause and voila! Problem solved.
Fine, but first you have to identify the problem, and so far all we have is "The problem is a problem."
Assuming that a problem exists (which is true, because some people are unhappy and everybody's desired state is happiness), what if we accepted the notion that not all "problems" can be solved? What if we decided (1) a problem exists between men and women, (2) problems have always existed between men and women and (3) how can we live with those problems as comfortably as possible?
Well, one way is to stop blaming men for the problem, stop blaming women and start blaming nature.
"What?" you say? "Blame nature?" you say? "That's stupid!" Right! If you would rather blame the cause of problems than solve them, blame stupidity, because if we were all smarter, we would prevent problems from ever occurring.
Stupidity is simply the quality or state of being very dull in mind.
Let's face it: According to the Bell Curve of Intelligence, some of us are very dull in mind. Nobody wants to be, but facts are facts. In fact, the majority of us are dull in mind.
Which brings me to the Embarrassing Sixties. I believe the "problem" between men and women gathered momentum during that silly decade.
Baby Boomers were protesting that everybody should be treated as equals. Men burned their draft cards to protest the war in Vietnam. ("Hell, no! We won't go!") Women burned their bras to protest the war of the sexes. ("Hell, no! Let 'em flow!")
Now, as a young man I was turned on by all the sudden influx of unfettered breasts, knowing the only thing separating my eyes from forbidden fruit was one thin layer of cloth, not cloth, latex and wire underpinnings.
And while nobody was watching, we all got stupider. We started to believe that everybody was equal, or else, they should be. We started to give every kid a colored ribbon in school races, because no one should have low self-esteem. We started to ignore rules of grammar in school compositions, because creativity should flow and not be stifled. And we started to believe that men and women should be equal, because ... fair is fair.
But Nobody said life is fair. Men and women are not created equal. Men have penises, testosterone and agressive upbringings. Women have vaginas, estrogen and passive upbringings. And those are just the majority of the people on the old Bell Curve of Sexuality.
Previously, men could get into trouble by repeating the lyrics "You are woman, I am man: Let's kiss."
Why can't we just accept the mantra, "We are all people: Let's lighten up"?
I rest my case.
Saturday, October 08, 2011
Meet the World's Weirdest People--And Then Some
Here's what gets me.
This obsession some of us have--well, a number of us have--okay, okay!--a lot of us have to get our names in the newspaper and to be the best at something--anything!--has really gotten out of hand.
For example, some people's days aren't made until they can try to convince a whole community to change its collective mind about some very important matter (to them) just by getting one teensy editorially mangled letter-to-the editor printed in the newspaper of their community of choice.
Then, if they are lucky, that one-letter writing campaign will start a response from the other side of the very important matter (to someone else), and a true dialogue develops. (Except, of course nobody is doing any actual talking and the newspaper's editorial-page editor probably has a policy of no more than one letter per month published by the same letter writer.) Sometimes, these very important matters (to everybody) can range all the way from "Why isn't the sidewalk in front of my house fixed?" to "I think we all should worship the Rammalammadingdong god Ram Lam."
For another example, other people's weeks, months and, yes, sometimes years aren't made until they can get their names and records published in the official "book of weirdness," the Guinness Book of World Records, which really became famous during the Baby Boomers' best years: the Embarrassing Sixties.
Maybe you saw a story many years ago about a gathering of record holders at the Empire State Building. (This was ironic, because Fame, like all world records, is fleeting, and just as the Empire State Building used to be the world's tallest building, the gathering included the sometime-in-the-future former "most tattooed man," "longest grape catcher," "longest apple-peel peeler," "most basketballs dribbler," "most married couple" and--get this one--"most versatile human.")
Now, you are probably thinking, "How can they prove that guy's got the most tattoos, that guy caught a grape thrown from the greatest distance, that gal peeled the longest apple peel, that guy can dribble the most basketballs at once, that couple got married the most times and that guy--get this one--is the most versatile human? And just what does 'versatile' mean, anyway?"
Well, sorry to break their bubbles, but they can't! Those people just got their first! If you want to get there second, you can be a weird (Sorry!) world record holder, too!
Walter Stiglitz, the Tattoo Man of North Plainfield, NJ, admitted that even after 5,552 tattoos, he still had room for another small one "here and there," including his "privates," which, unfortunately, he should never have referred to as "small," regardless of its size.
Paul Tavilla, the Grapecatcher, caught a black Ribier (with seed) thrown 50 mph from 327 feet away for the ground record. That left open the record for other grapes thrown 51 mph from 328 feet and many more records at greater speeds from farther away with and without seeds.
Kathy Madison, the Apple Peeler from Wolcott, NY, peeled a 20-ounce cooking apple 2,068 inches in 11-1/2 hours on Oct. 16, 1976. That left the record book open for 21-ounce apples; 2,069 inches of peel and up; 11 hours, 29 minutes and down; and every day except October 16!
Bob Nickerson, the Dribbler from Gallitzin, PA, dribbled four basketballs in 13 maneuvers while telling bad jokes. What is open? Five basketballs, 14 maneuvers and up or--even better--good jokes!
Carol and Richard Roble, the Most Married Couple from Hempstead, NY, had been married in all 50 states and the District of Columbia--always on November 30. Mr. Roble said, "I don't know if we got sex in every state, but close to it." What is left for the record book? How many cities are there in the U.S.? How many countries in the world? And ... well, you can take it from there.
And Ashrita Furman, the Most Versatile Human--. Oh, forget it. He probably has that title locked up, anyway.
Now, if you wanted to start your own category, have you thought about the World's Most Prolific Letter-to-the-Editor Writer? Nah, who writes letters anymore?
Go for the most tattoos, especially including the small naughty bits.
I rest my case.
This obsession some of us have--well, a number of us have--okay, okay!--a lot of us have to get our names in the newspaper and to be the best at something--anything!--has really gotten out of hand.
For example, some people's days aren't made until they can try to convince a whole community to change its collective mind about some very important matter (to them) just by getting one teensy editorially mangled letter-to-the editor printed in the newspaper of their community of choice.
Then, if they are lucky, that one-letter writing campaign will start a response from the other side of the very important matter (to someone else), and a true dialogue develops. (Except, of course nobody is doing any actual talking and the newspaper's editorial-page editor probably has a policy of no more than one letter per month published by the same letter writer.) Sometimes, these very important matters (to everybody) can range all the way from "Why isn't the sidewalk in front of my house fixed?" to "I think we all should worship the Rammalammadingdong god Ram Lam."
For another example, other people's weeks, months and, yes, sometimes years aren't made until they can get their names and records published in the official "book of weirdness," the Guinness Book of World Records, which really became famous during the Baby Boomers' best years: the Embarrassing Sixties.
Maybe you saw a story many years ago about a gathering of record holders at the Empire State Building. (This was ironic, because Fame, like all world records, is fleeting, and just as the Empire State Building used to be the world's tallest building, the gathering included the sometime-in-the-future former "most tattooed man," "longest grape catcher," "longest apple-peel peeler," "most basketballs dribbler," "most married couple" and--get this one--"most versatile human.")
Now, you are probably thinking, "How can they prove that guy's got the most tattoos, that guy caught a grape thrown from the greatest distance, that gal peeled the longest apple peel, that guy can dribble the most basketballs at once, that couple got married the most times and that guy--get this one--is the most versatile human? And just what does 'versatile' mean, anyway?"
Well, sorry to break their bubbles, but they can't! Those people just got their first! If you want to get there second, you can be a weird (Sorry!) world record holder, too!
Walter Stiglitz, the Tattoo Man of North Plainfield, NJ, admitted that even after 5,552 tattoos, he still had room for another small one "here and there," including his "privates," which, unfortunately, he should never have referred to as "small," regardless of its size.
Paul Tavilla, the Grapecatcher, caught a black Ribier (with seed) thrown 50 mph from 327 feet away for the ground record. That left open the record for other grapes thrown 51 mph from 328 feet and many more records at greater speeds from farther away with and without seeds.
Kathy Madison, the Apple Peeler from Wolcott, NY, peeled a 20-ounce cooking apple 2,068 inches in 11-1/2 hours on Oct. 16, 1976. That left the record book open for 21-ounce apples; 2,069 inches of peel and up; 11 hours, 29 minutes and down; and every day except October 16!
Bob Nickerson, the Dribbler from Gallitzin, PA, dribbled four basketballs in 13 maneuvers while telling bad jokes. What is open? Five basketballs, 14 maneuvers and up or--even better--good jokes!
Carol and Richard Roble, the Most Married Couple from Hempstead, NY, had been married in all 50 states and the District of Columbia--always on November 30. Mr. Roble said, "I don't know if we got sex in every state, but close to it." What is left for the record book? How many cities are there in the U.S.? How many countries in the world? And ... well, you can take it from there.
And Ashrita Furman, the Most Versatile Human--. Oh, forget it. He probably has that title locked up, anyway.
Now, if you wanted to start your own category, have you thought about the World's Most Prolific Letter-to-the-Editor Writer? Nah, who writes letters anymore?
Go for the most tattoos, especially including the small naughty bits.
I rest my case.
Monday, October 03, 2011
Admit Our Mistakes and Prepare for Houseguests
Here's what gets me.
We never seem to learn from our mistakes and always act like we're too proud to admit we made a mistake in the first place.
For example, Baby Boomers seem to get blamed for everything that happens, including botching up the way we treat animals on this planet we affectionately refer to as Mother Earth.
Now, I'll bet you doughnuts to dollars that every day you can find at least one story in your source of choice that reports another example of man's and woman's inhumanity to animal, blames something on Baby Boomers or both.
I know I did. In fact, I found two stories in two days in the same newspaper. (I don't mean I took two days to read the paper; I found one story in Tuesday's paper and another one in Wednesday's.)
Tuesday's story told how fish and other animals that live in North American waterways were disappearing much faster than land-based fauna. (As a trained journalist, I am bound by the Journalistic Oath to report exactly what I see and hear, and the original story used "fauna," not "animals" and not "flora.")
The frightening point about that statement is not that fish are disappearing, because there are a lot of fishermen and a modicum of fisherwomen around, but that land-based animals (that is, non-fish) are disappearing, too.
"Why are they disappearing?" you ask? And "Are Baby Boomers to blame?"
I don't know, but the very next day I found a possible answer to the first question in a story with the headline "First the bees, now killer crocs." The story said that the country that brought African killer bees to the Americas many years ago (namely, Brazil) had now imported African killer crocodiles.
Well, I don't have to tell you what that means. (No, those first killer bees aren't Baby Boomers--they died off years ago, as bees are wont to do.) According to a group of worried environmentalists and angry scientists, in just a matter of time the crocodiles would escape into the wild and work their way north just the way their Mother Earth brothers and sisters, the Killer Bees, did on "Saturday Night Live" back in the Seventies.
(By the way, is an environmentalist someone who makes a living by correctly guessing what card is going to be chosen and what someone is thinking, but works only out in the country?)
In fact, the bees are already here. They entered Texas in 1990 and were next found in New Mexico and Arizona. Experts predicted the first hives of Africanized bees would show up in California soon afterwards.
I can see it now. Comedy sketches on late-night weekend television with comedians dressed in big green lips and long floppy tails, speaking in phony Mexican accents to the guest host and causing gales of laughter in order to get our minds off the real-life danger of Killer Crocs working their way north, attacking groups of African women washing clothes in rivers and sometimes even boats and rafts.
They could already be here. Killer Crocs, which weigh as much as a ton and can grow 21 feet long, could be the reason for Tuesday's story about disappearing fish and other North American waterway animals. And I find it odd that the story didn't mention disappearing African women washing clothes, didn't mention disappearing boats and rafts and didn't blame Baby Boomers.
I shudder just thinking about 21-feet-long, 2000-pound reptiles slowly waddling north, attacking washerwomen, boats and rafts and picking up a Mexican accent as they made their way to North American waterways.
Anyway, back to how we never seem to learn from our mistakes and don't even admit we made a mistake in the first place. Have you ever heard any Brazilians say, "Oops! Sorry about those Killer Bees"?
Have you ever heard anyone say, "Oops! Sorry about those Crocs"?
Now, did you happen to hear or read the story sometime back about the flock of black birds that took up residence in two California homes?
If we don't learn from our mistakes and if we don't admit our mistakes, then what is to stop Mother Earth from telling a gangle of Killer Crocodiles to take up residence in your house when they get here? Or would you prefer a blizzard of bees?
And how much longer after that before the Baby Boomers get blamed for all the Killer Crocs and Bees in our pantries?
I rest my case.
We never seem to learn from our mistakes and always act like we're too proud to admit we made a mistake in the first place.
For example, Baby Boomers seem to get blamed for everything that happens, including botching up the way we treat animals on this planet we affectionately refer to as Mother Earth.
Now, I'll bet you doughnuts to dollars that every day you can find at least one story in your source of choice that reports another example of man's and woman's inhumanity to animal, blames something on Baby Boomers or both.
I know I did. In fact, I found two stories in two days in the same newspaper. (I don't mean I took two days to read the paper; I found one story in Tuesday's paper and another one in Wednesday's.)
Tuesday's story told how fish and other animals that live in North American waterways were disappearing much faster than land-based fauna. (As a trained journalist, I am bound by the Journalistic Oath to report exactly what I see and hear, and the original story used "fauna," not "animals" and not "flora.")
The frightening point about that statement is not that fish are disappearing, because there are a lot of fishermen and a modicum of fisherwomen around, but that land-based animals (that is, non-fish) are disappearing, too.
"Why are they disappearing?" you ask? And "Are Baby Boomers to blame?"
I don't know, but the very next day I found a possible answer to the first question in a story with the headline "First the bees, now killer crocs." The story said that the country that brought African killer bees to the Americas many years ago (namely, Brazil) had now imported African killer crocodiles.
Well, I don't have to tell you what that means. (No, those first killer bees aren't Baby Boomers--they died off years ago, as bees are wont to do.) According to a group of worried environmentalists and angry scientists, in just a matter of time the crocodiles would escape into the wild and work their way north just the way their Mother Earth brothers and sisters, the Killer Bees, did on "Saturday Night Live" back in the Seventies.
(By the way, is an environmentalist someone who makes a living by correctly guessing what card is going to be chosen and what someone is thinking, but works only out in the country?)
In fact, the bees are already here. They entered Texas in 1990 and were next found in New Mexico and Arizona. Experts predicted the first hives of Africanized bees would show up in California soon afterwards.
I can see it now. Comedy sketches on late-night weekend television with comedians dressed in big green lips and long floppy tails, speaking in phony Mexican accents to the guest host and causing gales of laughter in order to get our minds off the real-life danger of Killer Crocs working their way north, attacking groups of African women washing clothes in rivers and sometimes even boats and rafts.
They could already be here. Killer Crocs, which weigh as much as a ton and can grow 21 feet long, could be the reason for Tuesday's story about disappearing fish and other North American waterway animals. And I find it odd that the story didn't mention disappearing African women washing clothes, didn't mention disappearing boats and rafts and didn't blame Baby Boomers.
I shudder just thinking about 21-feet-long, 2000-pound reptiles slowly waddling north, attacking washerwomen, boats and rafts and picking up a Mexican accent as they made their way to North American waterways.
Anyway, back to how we never seem to learn from our mistakes and don't even admit we made a mistake in the first place. Have you ever heard any Brazilians say, "Oops! Sorry about those Killer Bees"?
Have you ever heard anyone say, "Oops! Sorry about those Crocs"?
Now, did you happen to hear or read the story sometime back about the flock of black birds that took up residence in two California homes?
If we don't learn from our mistakes and if we don't admit our mistakes, then what is to stop Mother Earth from telling a gangle of Killer Crocodiles to take up residence in your house when they get here? Or would you prefer a blizzard of bees?
And how much longer after that before the Baby Boomers get blamed for all the Killer Crocs and Bees in our pantries?
I rest my case.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Pass the Paper--Hold the Popcorn
Here's what gets me.
Sometimes you might think all the world's problems can be solved by looking in your newspaper.
For example, once I was looking for the starting time of a movie when I stumbled across a story that said running beats swimming for weight loss. This came as both a head-whacker and a "Duh-h-h," because I remember back in the Embarrassing Sixties when the prevailing exercise advice was swimming and isometric exercises.
Swimming was best (so the theory went), because you are exercising all your muscles. Isometric exercises (where you just flex a few muscles against an immovable or counter-directional object) were good, because you could exercise specific muscles and not require a large area, such as a gymnasium.
As far as I know, no one ever recommended isometric swimming, probably because you can drown while forcing your arms or legs against the bottom, and using the side of the pool isn't really swimming.
Anyway, we all know how to lose weight: We just get rid of the pieces of our bodies we don't want, which usually comes in the form of ugly, disgusting, flapping in the breeze, bulging in the middle, protruding from the rear ... fat.
Unfortunately for Baby Boomers fast approaching, passing through or waving Bye-Bye to the Age of Weight Worries, you can't just take a knife and cut off the pieces you don't want. You have to improve your bodies on a slower basis by either eating less food, exercising more or preferably both.
And as we slowly lose the bloom of our youth and approach the lilacs of advancing age, we have to think more seriously about good health, proper diet and sensible exercise.
Because if it weren't for exercise, whenever we eat that Jumbo Supreme box of buttered popcorn at the movies, we tend to put on more weight than we normally take care of with our usual exercise, which for most of us consists of eating.
But the good news is that after that story I stumbled across another article that said other studies showed exercise is also a common way to shake the blues. The bad news is exercise improves your mood only if you're not used to exercising. You see, another article said if you do aerobic exercise daily, exercising has little effect on your mood.
Dr. Randy Larsen, a psychologist at the University of Michigan, said after research with Dr. Margaret Kasimatis at Hope College, "It's sedentary people who get the biggest boost in mood when they exercise."
Oh, great! So, we can either exercise daily and be thin, or we can exercise infrequently and be in a good mood. The question still flapping in the breeze with our unwanted body parts is "Which form of exercise, aside from eating, should I choose?"
Remember, everything we do is exercise. Sleeping is exercise (not a whole lot), walking is exercise, running is exercise (a whole lot), even thinking is exercise! (Which is why watching TV is not exercise.)
"Hey, wait a minute!" you say? "If everything I do is exercise, why am I sometimes in a good mood and sometimes in a bad mood?"
Good question, and the answer lies in "aerobic." Remember, the article said daily "aerobic" exercise has little effect on your mood, which could mean that if you start out exercising in a bad mood, you could also end up in a bad mood, especially if you were trying isometric swimming.
"Wait another minute!" you say? "'Aerobic' means 'living or active only in the presence of oxygen,' so if I breathe oxygen all the time and everything I do is exercise, why am I overweight?"
Another good question, and the answer is "I don't know."
However, I suspect that "exertion" and "heavy breathing" have something to do with what we normally call "aerobic exercise," as opposed to "watching TV." But don't try to fool Mother Nature by actively breathing heavily as you watch anything on television, thinking that will serve as your exercise for the day. The fat in our lungs is minimal.
So, we can't solve all our problems with a newspaper, especially weight problems. And naturally running beats swimming for weight loss. Running, your feet pound isometrically against the ground and your sweat flies off into the air.
Swimming, your arms and legs meet less resistance, your sweat mixes with the water and seeps right back into your body!
Duh-h-h. Now, pass the popcorn, please!
I rest my case.
Sometimes you might think all the world's problems can be solved by looking in your newspaper.
For example, once I was looking for the starting time of a movie when I stumbled across a story that said running beats swimming for weight loss. This came as both a head-whacker and a "Duh-h-h," because I remember back in the Embarrassing Sixties when the prevailing exercise advice was swimming and isometric exercises.
Swimming was best (so the theory went), because you are exercising all your muscles. Isometric exercises (where you just flex a few muscles against an immovable or counter-directional object) were good, because you could exercise specific muscles and not require a large area, such as a gymnasium.
As far as I know, no one ever recommended isometric swimming, probably because you can drown while forcing your arms or legs against the bottom, and using the side of the pool isn't really swimming.
Anyway, we all know how to lose weight: We just get rid of the pieces of our bodies we don't want, which usually comes in the form of ugly, disgusting, flapping in the breeze, bulging in the middle, protruding from the rear ... fat.
Unfortunately for Baby Boomers fast approaching, passing through or waving Bye-Bye to the Age of Weight Worries, you can't just take a knife and cut off the pieces you don't want. You have to improve your bodies on a slower basis by either eating less food, exercising more or preferably both.
And as we slowly lose the bloom of our youth and approach the lilacs of advancing age, we have to think more seriously about good health, proper diet and sensible exercise.
Because if it weren't for exercise, whenever we eat that Jumbo Supreme box of buttered popcorn at the movies, we tend to put on more weight than we normally take care of with our usual exercise, which for most of us consists of eating.
But the good news is that after that story I stumbled across another article that said other studies showed exercise is also a common way to shake the blues. The bad news is exercise improves your mood only if you're not used to exercising. You see, another article said if you do aerobic exercise daily, exercising has little effect on your mood.
Dr. Randy Larsen, a psychologist at the University of Michigan, said after research with Dr. Margaret Kasimatis at Hope College, "It's sedentary people who get the biggest boost in mood when they exercise."
Oh, great! So, we can either exercise daily and be thin, or we can exercise infrequently and be in a good mood. The question still flapping in the breeze with our unwanted body parts is "Which form of exercise, aside from eating, should I choose?"
Remember, everything we do is exercise. Sleeping is exercise (not a whole lot), walking is exercise, running is exercise (a whole lot), even thinking is exercise! (Which is why watching TV is not exercise.)
"Hey, wait a minute!" you say? "If everything I do is exercise, why am I sometimes in a good mood and sometimes in a bad mood?"
Good question, and the answer lies in "aerobic." Remember, the article said daily "aerobic" exercise has little effect on your mood, which could mean that if you start out exercising in a bad mood, you could also end up in a bad mood, especially if you were trying isometric swimming.
"Wait another minute!" you say? "'Aerobic' means 'living or active only in the presence of oxygen,' so if I breathe oxygen all the time and everything I do is exercise, why am I overweight?"
Another good question, and the answer is "I don't know."
However, I suspect that "exertion" and "heavy breathing" have something to do with what we normally call "aerobic exercise," as opposed to "watching TV." But don't try to fool Mother Nature by actively breathing heavily as you watch anything on television, thinking that will serve as your exercise for the day. The fat in our lungs is minimal.
So, we can't solve all our problems with a newspaper, especially weight problems. And naturally running beats swimming for weight loss. Running, your feet pound isometrically against the ground and your sweat flies off into the air.
Swimming, your arms and legs meet less resistance, your sweat mixes with the water and seeps right back into your body!
Duh-h-h. Now, pass the popcorn, please!
I rest my case.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Did You See What I Saw?
Here's what gets me.
Assuming that you attended school, do you remember taking an English or literature class in which you read and discussed some famous literary work?
This could have been in high school where the work could have been Silas Marner, the 1861 novel by George Eliot (actually Mary Ann Evans), Julius Caesar, the (about) 1599 play by William Shakespeare (at one time thought to be actually Christopher Marlowe or even Francis Bacon) or "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner," the 1798 poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge (always thought to actually be himself, except when he was writing "Kubla Khan," his famous, unfinished poem composed in an opium-induced sleep).
If you got to college, this could have been any of the plays or poems by Shakespeare or something more contemporary, such as Moby-Dick, the 1851 novel by Herman Melville, any of the novels by Ernest Hemingway or possibly even "Howl," the 1956 poem by Allen Ginsberg, which had obscenity charges brought against it.
My point is, the instructor gave you an assignment to read an agreed-upon published work, you and your classmates all read it (assuming that you did your homework and didn't try to cheat by just reading the Classic comic book or the Cliff's Notes instead) and you all discussed the work in class.
As you progressed through the hierarchy of education, your examination of literary art became more focused and more modern, at least in the survey courses. However, what happens when motion-picture art is added as a topic for literary education?
Many Baby Boomers thought they had an advantage when they "got lucky" enough to be able to see a film based on a work they were supposed to read. Nowadays, students can probably get a digital movie of whatever work they're supposed to be reading.
One problem for them, of course, is that oftentimes a finished film is vastly different from the script the writer wrote, much less the novel or play that might have inspired it.
A work of literature, such as a novel, short story or poem, is always kept intact, based on how it appeared as published after negotiations between author, editor and publisher. Film, however, is altered, changed, shortened, lengthened, made in more than one version or rereleased "with never before seen footage," all to suit the exigencies of its current "owner," whether that is the director, the editor, the producer, the studio, the distributor, the television network or station showing it between commercials with altered or silenced dialogue or even a commercial airliner that omits scenes thought to be disturbing.
This almost casual treatment of the most important art form of the present damages how society regards film, damages the permanence of film and damages the creative work of the artists who made the film.
Perhaps film should be thought about and regarded the way songs are. A song is written by a song writer. It is bought and then owned by a publisher. Then it is worked on by an arranger and recorded by an artist. However, even though a particular recording of a song by an extremely popular artist may be extremely popular and successful, that artist's recording of a song doesn't become the song. The "song" is always thought of as being separate from the recording.
Other artists sometimes "cover" a song and make equally successful recordings of it, sometimes mimicking the original arrangement, sometimes changing the arrangement drastically.
Of course, more than one version (or "arrangement") of films and sometimes even novels are made, but no recording of a song is hacked up and altered by a radio station when it is played the way a film is on its way to being distributed, except for shortened openings and endings to suit the available time.
Therefore, what constitutes a film? What should we regard as being the "artistic work" that exists in society's mind when we discuss a particular filmic piece of "literature"? The screenplay? The shooting script? The cut that the editor turns over to the studio? The version that is first released by the first distributor? The uncut, uncensored version that the director wanted, but couldn't control until the film was rereleased?
When you and I discuss the novel Moby-Dick, we compare the versions we each have in our minds based on what we read, which undoubtedly consisted of the same words.
When we discuss the movie Moby Dick, we're lucky if we both saw one same scene.
I rest my case.
Assuming that you attended school, do you remember taking an English or literature class in which you read and discussed some famous literary work?
This could have been in high school where the work could have been Silas Marner, the 1861 novel by George Eliot (actually Mary Ann Evans), Julius Caesar, the (about) 1599 play by William Shakespeare (at one time thought to be actually Christopher Marlowe or even Francis Bacon) or "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner," the 1798 poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge (always thought to actually be himself, except when he was writing "Kubla Khan," his famous, unfinished poem composed in an opium-induced sleep).
If you got to college, this could have been any of the plays or poems by Shakespeare or something more contemporary, such as Moby-Dick, the 1851 novel by Herman Melville, any of the novels by Ernest Hemingway or possibly even "Howl," the 1956 poem by Allen Ginsberg, which had obscenity charges brought against it.
My point is, the instructor gave you an assignment to read an agreed-upon published work, you and your classmates all read it (assuming that you did your homework and didn't try to cheat by just reading the Classic comic book or the Cliff's Notes instead) and you all discussed the work in class.
As you progressed through the hierarchy of education, your examination of literary art became more focused and more modern, at least in the survey courses. However, what happens when motion-picture art is added as a topic for literary education?
Many Baby Boomers thought they had an advantage when they "got lucky" enough to be able to see a film based on a work they were supposed to read. Nowadays, students can probably get a digital movie of whatever work they're supposed to be reading.
One problem for them, of course, is that oftentimes a finished film is vastly different from the script the writer wrote, much less the novel or play that might have inspired it.
A work of literature, such as a novel, short story or poem, is always kept intact, based on how it appeared as published after negotiations between author, editor and publisher. Film, however, is altered, changed, shortened, lengthened, made in more than one version or rereleased "with never before seen footage," all to suit the exigencies of its current "owner," whether that is the director, the editor, the producer, the studio, the distributor, the television network or station showing it between commercials with altered or silenced dialogue or even a commercial airliner that omits scenes thought to be disturbing.
This almost casual treatment of the most important art form of the present damages how society regards film, damages the permanence of film and damages the creative work of the artists who made the film.
Perhaps film should be thought about and regarded the way songs are. A song is written by a song writer. It is bought and then owned by a publisher. Then it is worked on by an arranger and recorded by an artist. However, even though a particular recording of a song by an extremely popular artist may be extremely popular and successful, that artist's recording of a song doesn't become the song. The "song" is always thought of as being separate from the recording.
Other artists sometimes "cover" a song and make equally successful recordings of it, sometimes mimicking the original arrangement, sometimes changing the arrangement drastically.
Of course, more than one version (or "arrangement") of films and sometimes even novels are made, but no recording of a song is hacked up and altered by a radio station when it is played the way a film is on its way to being distributed, except for shortened openings and endings to suit the available time.
Therefore, what constitutes a film? What should we regard as being the "artistic work" that exists in society's mind when we discuss a particular filmic piece of "literature"? The screenplay? The shooting script? The cut that the editor turns over to the studio? The version that is first released by the first distributor? The uncut, uncensored version that the director wanted, but couldn't control until the film was rereleased?
When you and I discuss the novel Moby-Dick, we compare the versions we each have in our minds based on what we read, which undoubtedly consisted of the same words.
When we discuss the movie Moby Dick, we're lucky if we both saw one same scene.
I rest my case.
Friday, September 02, 2011
The Age of Entertainment
Here's what gets me.
We sure do like to name things, which, some would argue, goes all the way back to Adam, assuming that an Adam ever existed, who all of a sudden opened his eyes one day with the full-blown gift of language and ability to talk. So, Adam looked around, found somebody to talk to and said:
"Madam, I'm Adam."
See? We've even named his first sentence: "palindrome," which is a word, verse or sentence that reads the same backward or forward.
However, even before Adam met his rib, he had to name things: "And Adam gave names to all cattle, and to the fowl of the air, and to every beast of the field."
Even before Adam came on the scene, God was naming things: "And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night."
Right. How else can you talk about something if you can't identify it by a symbol when one of them isn't around so you can point to it and say "that one there"?
Okay, let's say there was no "Adam" or that he himself is but a symbol for the early development of the human species known as homo sapiens or hominids. Once they learned to communicate with each other, they still had to have symbols with which to refer to something, because otherwise communication was just too slow and dangerous if someone had to drag someone else off to a lion's den just to say, "Beware that thing here."
So, now we have progressed to where we have named everything collectively ("universe," or "cosmos") and everything individually the minute, second or instant we discover it ("atom," not to be confused with Adam, "electron," "nucleus," "proton," "neutron" and so on down the line).
Of course, at that point, the line between concrete and abstract is so blurred as to be perhaps nonexistent, but we also feel the need to name abstract things the minute we think of them, from the small ("second") to the large ("century"). We even give a proper name to a whole century to suit our purposes, such as the Age of Enlightenment (sometimes known as the Age of Reason) for the 18th century of Western thought (that time from 1701 to 1800, or 1700 to 1799, depending on how much you subscribe to computer technology, lingo or thought).
The Age of Enlightenment (or Reason) was so-called, because its writers "applied reason to religion, politics, morality and social life," according to Benet's Readers Encyclopedia, which just about covered everything except for science, which has reason and enlightenment built in.
Now, if the 1700s were the Age of Enlightenment (etc.), what about the 1800s and the 1900s? What about the future? Why wait until something happens or is discovered before we name it? Why not name them now?
We like to talk. We need names for things when we talk about them, and we have to avoid that lion's den when we want to warn our friends about that particular beast.
So, for the purpose of discussion and to bring things up to date, let's call the 1800s the Age of Independence and the 1900s the Age of War. (The Age of Aquarius never really caught on.)
Personally, I want to call the 21st century the Age of Entertainment (although a good case could be made for the Age of Communication). We already jumped the gun in the 1900s, and even though we are a few years into the 2000s, yearly and century boundaries are just as arbitrary as names, and even though other nations, societies and worlds in the cosmos might be concerned with activities other than entertainment, we in the U.S. seem to be consumed and obsessed with amusement, distractions and divertissements.
Even TV Guide said "entertainment has become the primary force in American life and especially in our media" (July 30, 1994). Studies are conducted and stories written that conclude we increasingly value leisure, but increasingly fear we have less leisure time.
Now that television and computers have taken over the scene, the whole world can communicate at once with each other, can experience events at the same time and can discuss those events. And what do we discuss? Madonna, Michael Jackson and O.J. Simpson.
Maybe the Day is over, Night is upon us and we are huddled around the campfire amusing ourselves with tales of amazement and wonder so we don't have to think about that nasty old lion in its den.
I rest my case.
We sure do like to name things, which, some would argue, goes all the way back to Adam, assuming that an Adam ever existed, who all of a sudden opened his eyes one day with the full-blown gift of language and ability to talk. So, Adam looked around, found somebody to talk to and said:
"Madam, I'm Adam."
See? We've even named his first sentence: "palindrome," which is a word, verse or sentence that reads the same backward or forward.
However, even before Adam met his rib, he had to name things: "And Adam gave names to all cattle, and to the fowl of the air, and to every beast of the field."
Even before Adam came on the scene, God was naming things: "And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night."
Right. How else can you talk about something if you can't identify it by a symbol when one of them isn't around so you can point to it and say "that one there"?
Okay, let's say there was no "Adam" or that he himself is but a symbol for the early development of the human species known as homo sapiens or hominids. Once they learned to communicate with each other, they still had to have symbols with which to refer to something, because otherwise communication was just too slow and dangerous if someone had to drag someone else off to a lion's den just to say, "Beware that thing here."
So, now we have progressed to where we have named everything collectively ("universe," or "cosmos") and everything individually the minute, second or instant we discover it ("atom," not to be confused with Adam, "electron," "nucleus," "proton," "neutron" and so on down the line).
Of course, at that point, the line between concrete and abstract is so blurred as to be perhaps nonexistent, but we also feel the need to name abstract things the minute we think of them, from the small ("second") to the large ("century"). We even give a proper name to a whole century to suit our purposes, such as the Age of Enlightenment (sometimes known as the Age of Reason) for the 18th century of Western thought (that time from 1701 to 1800, or 1700 to 1799, depending on how much you subscribe to computer technology, lingo or thought).
The Age of Enlightenment (or Reason) was so-called, because its writers "applied reason to religion, politics, morality and social life," according to Benet's Readers Encyclopedia, which just about covered everything except for science, which has reason and enlightenment built in.
Now, if the 1700s were the Age of Enlightenment (etc.), what about the 1800s and the 1900s? What about the future? Why wait until something happens or is discovered before we name it? Why not name them now?
We like to talk. We need names for things when we talk about them, and we have to avoid that lion's den when we want to warn our friends about that particular beast.
So, for the purpose of discussion and to bring things up to date, let's call the 1800s the Age of Independence and the 1900s the Age of War. (The Age of Aquarius never really caught on.)
Personally, I want to call the 21st century the Age of Entertainment (although a good case could be made for the Age of Communication). We already jumped the gun in the 1900s, and even though we are a few years into the 2000s, yearly and century boundaries are just as arbitrary as names, and even though other nations, societies and worlds in the cosmos might be concerned with activities other than entertainment, we in the U.S. seem to be consumed and obsessed with amusement, distractions and divertissements.
Even TV Guide said "entertainment has become the primary force in American life and especially in our media" (July 30, 1994). Studies are conducted and stories written that conclude we increasingly value leisure, but increasingly fear we have less leisure time.
Now that television and computers have taken over the scene, the whole world can communicate at once with each other, can experience events at the same time and can discuss those events. And what do we discuss? Madonna, Michael Jackson and O.J. Simpson.
Maybe the Day is over, Night is upon us and we are huddled around the campfire amusing ourselves with tales of amazement and wonder so we don't have to think about that nasty old lion in its den.
I rest my case.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
The History of Humanity
Here's what gets me.
Liberals are "not narrow in opinion or judgment." Conservatives are "disposed to maintain existing views, conditions or institutions."
Liberals were curious. Conservatives were not.
Liberals climbed down from the trees and ventured onto the dangerous plains. Conservatives stayed in the forests and remained safe.
Liberals discovered how to cultivate crops for steady supplies of food. Conservatives tried to remain hunters and gatherers, which had worked in the past.
Liberals created stories and myths. Conservatives believed the myths were true.
Liberals saw the need for a set of rules so society could function. Conservatives saw rules as a way to get others to act like them.
Liberals ventured far from home to discover new worlds. Conservatives stayed home and managed their day-to-day affairs.
Liberals discovered new lands and civilizations. Conservatives followed to convert savages to Christianity.
Liberals settled the New World to begin a new life. Conservatives stayed in the Old World where they were comfortable.
Liberals had vision and dreams of what might be. Conservatives had memories and dreams of what had been.
Liberals dealt with ideas. Conservatives dealt with rules.
Liberals wanted to change society for the better. Conservatives wanted to keep the status quo at all costs.
Liberals became workers and Democrats. Conservatives became business owners and Republicans.
Liberals acquired knowledge. Conservatives acquired wealth.
Liberals went to war. Conservatives waged war.
Liberals asked questions. Conservatives gave answers.
Liberals fought for women to get the vote. Conservatives fought to keep women home, barefoot and pregnant.
Liberals made new discoveries in science and technology. Conservatives bought and sold products created from discoveries.
Liberals went to Hollywood and created the motion-picture industry. Conservatives stayed home, went to the movies and complained about Hollywood.
Liberals wrote ground-breaking erotic works of art. Conservatives banned them in Boston.
Liberals embraced the Theory of Evolution. Conservatives condemned it and created "monkey trials."
Liberals were open to other nations and cultures. Conservatives created isolationism.
Liberals encouraged sex education in schools. Conservatives forbade it.
Liberals believed in the equality of people. Conservatives created apartheid and "separate but equal" laws.
Liberals became newspaper reporters. Conservatives became newspaper publishers.
Liberals in the form of 60,000 authors, actors, painters and musicians emigrated from Germany. Conservatives stayed behind and sent over 6,000,000 people to concentration camps.
Liberals wrote books. Conservatives burned them.
Liberals developed the atomic bomb. Conservatives used it.
Liberals became beatniks. Conservatives ridiculed them.
Liberals created rock 'n' roll. Conservatives destroyed records.
Liberals became "freedom riders" and fought for civil rights. Conservatives supported the Ku Klux Klan and fought to preserve racism.
Liberals became hippies and questioned all authority and the Vietnam war. Conservatives derided hippies and supported all authority and the Vietnam war.
Liberals promoted peace and love. Conservatives promoted war and hate.
Liberals went to Woodstock for three days of fun and music. Conservatives tried to ban sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll.
Liberals watched "Laugh-In" and "The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour." Conservatives watched "Marcus Welby, M.D." and kicked the Smothers Brothers off the air.
Liberals took to the streets and protested against the Vietnam war. Conservatives beat up the protesters and killed them at Kent State.
Liberals think young. Conservatives want everything to be like it was when they were young.
Liberals create fashion. Conservatives are slaves to fashion.
Liberals are concerned about content and form. Conservatives are afraid of content and embarrassed by form.
Liberals believe the means justify the end. Conservatives believe the end justifies the means.
Liberals believe everyone is equal. Conservatives believe they are better than others.
Liberals are open-minded about sexuality and erotica. Conservatives are close-minded and embarrassed by sexuality and erotica.
Liberals believe knowledge is power. Conservatives believe knowledge is dangerous.
Liberals are proud to be different. Conservatives are afraid to be different.
Liberals forgive. Conservatives forget.
Liberals want to create the future. Conservatives want to re-create the past.
Liberals talk about rights and wrongs. Conservatives talk about rights and lefts.
Liberals try to discover new ways to make things work. Conservatives keep trying to make old ways work.
Liberals want people to think for themselves. Conservatives want people to think the way conservatives do.
Liberals mourn the loss of an idea. Conservatives mourn the loss of a privilege.
Liberals trust in people. Conservatives trust in God.
Liberals are brave, self-confident and willing to take chances. Conservatives are cowardly, insecure and afraid to take chances.
Liberals would rather change than die. Conservatives would rather die than change.
That's the history of humanity.
I rest my case.
Liberals are "not narrow in opinion or judgment." Conservatives are "disposed to maintain existing views, conditions or institutions."
Liberals were curious. Conservatives were not.
Liberals climbed down from the trees and ventured onto the dangerous plains. Conservatives stayed in the forests and remained safe.
Liberals discovered how to cultivate crops for steady supplies of food. Conservatives tried to remain hunters and gatherers, which had worked in the past.
Liberals created stories and myths. Conservatives believed the myths were true.
Liberals saw the need for a set of rules so society could function. Conservatives saw rules as a way to get others to act like them.
Liberals ventured far from home to discover new worlds. Conservatives stayed home and managed their day-to-day affairs.
Liberals discovered new lands and civilizations. Conservatives followed to convert savages to Christianity.
Liberals settled the New World to begin a new life. Conservatives stayed in the Old World where they were comfortable.
Liberals had vision and dreams of what might be. Conservatives had memories and dreams of what had been.
Liberals dealt with ideas. Conservatives dealt with rules.
Liberals wanted to change society for the better. Conservatives wanted to keep the status quo at all costs.
Liberals became workers and Democrats. Conservatives became business owners and Republicans.
Liberals acquired knowledge. Conservatives acquired wealth.
Liberals went to war. Conservatives waged war.
Liberals asked questions. Conservatives gave answers.
Liberals fought for women to get the vote. Conservatives fought to keep women home, barefoot and pregnant.
Liberals made new discoveries in science and technology. Conservatives bought and sold products created from discoveries.
Liberals went to Hollywood and created the motion-picture industry. Conservatives stayed home, went to the movies and complained about Hollywood.
Liberals wrote ground-breaking erotic works of art. Conservatives banned them in Boston.
Liberals embraced the Theory of Evolution. Conservatives condemned it and created "monkey trials."
Liberals were open to other nations and cultures. Conservatives created isolationism.
Liberals encouraged sex education in schools. Conservatives forbade it.
Liberals believed in the equality of people. Conservatives created apartheid and "separate but equal" laws.
Liberals became newspaper reporters. Conservatives became newspaper publishers.
Liberals in the form of 60,000 authors, actors, painters and musicians emigrated from Germany. Conservatives stayed behind and sent over 6,000,000 people to concentration camps.
Liberals wrote books. Conservatives burned them.
Liberals developed the atomic bomb. Conservatives used it.
Liberals became beatniks. Conservatives ridiculed them.
Liberals created rock 'n' roll. Conservatives destroyed records.
Liberals became "freedom riders" and fought for civil rights. Conservatives supported the Ku Klux Klan and fought to preserve racism.
Liberals became hippies and questioned all authority and the Vietnam war. Conservatives derided hippies and supported all authority and the Vietnam war.
Liberals promoted peace and love. Conservatives promoted war and hate.
Liberals went to Woodstock for three days of fun and music. Conservatives tried to ban sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll.
Liberals watched "Laugh-In" and "The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour." Conservatives watched "Marcus Welby, M.D." and kicked the Smothers Brothers off the air.
Liberals took to the streets and protested against the Vietnam war. Conservatives beat up the protesters and killed them at Kent State.
Liberals think young. Conservatives want everything to be like it was when they were young.
Liberals create fashion. Conservatives are slaves to fashion.
Liberals are concerned about content and form. Conservatives are afraid of content and embarrassed by form.
Liberals believe the means justify the end. Conservatives believe the end justifies the means.
Liberals believe everyone is equal. Conservatives believe they are better than others.
Liberals are open-minded about sexuality and erotica. Conservatives are close-minded and embarrassed by sexuality and erotica.
Liberals believe knowledge is power. Conservatives believe knowledge is dangerous.
Liberals are proud to be different. Conservatives are afraid to be different.
Liberals forgive. Conservatives forget.
Liberals want to create the future. Conservatives want to re-create the past.
Liberals talk about rights and wrongs. Conservatives talk about rights and lefts.
Liberals try to discover new ways to make things work. Conservatives keep trying to make old ways work.
Liberals want people to think for themselves. Conservatives want people to think the way conservatives do.
Liberals mourn the loss of an idea. Conservatives mourn the loss of a privilege.
Liberals trust in people. Conservatives trust in God.
Liberals are brave, self-confident and willing to take chances. Conservatives are cowardly, insecure and afraid to take chances.
Liberals would rather change than die. Conservatives would rather die than change.
That's the history of humanity.
I rest my case.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
The Dumbing of Society
Here's what gets me.
I believe that as a society we are becoming dumber, I believe we are either ignoring or disguising this fact so we can be proud of ourselves and I believe ultimately this is going to be bad for us.
First of all, you need to decide for yourself whether, forced to make a choice, you would choose to do what is best for humanity or what is best for yourself.
Of course, the optimal choice is something that is best for both humanity and yourself, but we don't always get such choices, and I believe if we tip the balance too often for our personal gain, we end up making society dumber.
In nature, some still subscribe to Darwin's theory of Survival of the Fittest, or Natural Selection. Those species and members of species who can best adapt to the environment survive and reproduce, those least fitted do not. Therefore, the best, the brightest, the fastest, the strongest and the smartest survive. The poorer, dimmer, slower, weaker and dumber lose.
It doesn't take an Einstein or a college graduate to figure out that in the game of Life there are more losers than winners. In most sporting competitions, which obviously model the game of Life, there are more losers than winners, except of course, when there are only two competitors, such as in boxing matches and tennis games.
Even so, we still seem to be fascinated with the idea of only one winner, and so we create the "world champion" and "the Number 1 seed" for competitions between two combatants.
It doesn't take a rocket scientist or a college graduate to figure out that in the bell curve of intelligence, if an intelligence quotient (IQ) of 100 represents "average," the top of the curve, there are many more people of average intelligence than of genius intelligence. And in a democracy, in which the slogan is "majority rules," by nature we are probably allowing ourselves to be ruled by people of average intelligence.
Perhaps the majority of the people--by nature, those with average intelligence--"wised up," and that is why we don't hear much about "IQ" anymore. Perhaps the Embarrassing Sixties, brought on by the enormous glut of maturing Baby Boomers, is the cause.
In the Olden Days of the Frigid Fifties, grades were awarded fairly and systematically according to the bell curve of A, B, C, D and F. Fifty percent of the students got a C, 20% got a D, another 20% a B, 5% an F and another 5% an A. There were clear winners, losers and also-rans.
However, the angry Baby Boomers who thought Life was unfair and took over administration buildings with sit-ins, be-ins and what's happenings wanted to shorten the odds on becoming "winners." In many cases they got the Administration to change the grading system to one of "Pass-Fail." No more first, second, third, fourth and fifth places. You either won or lost. You were either on the bus or off the bus.
Now, clearly the onslaught of computer technology with its binary numbering system has some connection, but we no longer seem to care for anything more than winners and losers. Remember when Avis was proud of being Number 2? No more. We even extended competitions in order to prevent ties in sporting events.
Except for the Olympics, nobody remembers who came in second. It is no longer honorable to be anything other than a winner. "We're Number 1!" And if the team I support is Number 1, that makes me Number 1, too!
However, if everybody wins, then nobody loses. And if nobody loses, then nobody wins.
Why did we make jokes about not being able to program a VCR? Because the majority of us are actually losers.
Remember when we used to say "May the best man win" even in two-people competitions? Don't dare say that around feminists.
It doesn't take a Rhodes scholar or a college graduate to figure out that everybody would like to be a winner, but not everybody can. Once everybody is equal in terms of speed, strength and dexterity, all races end in ties.
Therefore, we need to compromise. In order to allow the human race to end in a tie with as many people as possible becoming winners, we need to cooperate with one another. When we help each other, we help ourselves and eventually everyone.
The only way we can all be winners is to revere the few Einsteins, rocket scientists, Rhodes scholars and college graduates for their victories.
I rest my case.
I believe that as a society we are becoming dumber, I believe we are either ignoring or disguising this fact so we can be proud of ourselves and I believe ultimately this is going to be bad for us.
First of all, you need to decide for yourself whether, forced to make a choice, you would choose to do what is best for humanity or what is best for yourself.
Of course, the optimal choice is something that is best for both humanity and yourself, but we don't always get such choices, and I believe if we tip the balance too often for our personal gain, we end up making society dumber.
In nature, some still subscribe to Darwin's theory of Survival of the Fittest, or Natural Selection. Those species and members of species who can best adapt to the environment survive and reproduce, those least fitted do not. Therefore, the best, the brightest, the fastest, the strongest and the smartest survive. The poorer, dimmer, slower, weaker and dumber lose.
It doesn't take an Einstein or a college graduate to figure out that in the game of Life there are more losers than winners. In most sporting competitions, which obviously model the game of Life, there are more losers than winners, except of course, when there are only two competitors, such as in boxing matches and tennis games.
Even so, we still seem to be fascinated with the idea of only one winner, and so we create the "world champion" and "the Number 1 seed" for competitions between two combatants.
It doesn't take a rocket scientist or a college graduate to figure out that in the bell curve of intelligence, if an intelligence quotient (IQ) of 100 represents "average," the top of the curve, there are many more people of average intelligence than of genius intelligence. And in a democracy, in which the slogan is "majority rules," by nature we are probably allowing ourselves to be ruled by people of average intelligence.
Perhaps the majority of the people--by nature, those with average intelligence--"wised up," and that is why we don't hear much about "IQ" anymore. Perhaps the Embarrassing Sixties, brought on by the enormous glut of maturing Baby Boomers, is the cause.
In the Olden Days of the Frigid Fifties, grades were awarded fairly and systematically according to the bell curve of A, B, C, D and F. Fifty percent of the students got a C, 20% got a D, another 20% a B, 5% an F and another 5% an A. There were clear winners, losers and also-rans.
However, the angry Baby Boomers who thought Life was unfair and took over administration buildings with sit-ins, be-ins and what's happenings wanted to shorten the odds on becoming "winners." In many cases they got the Administration to change the grading system to one of "Pass-Fail." No more first, second, third, fourth and fifth places. You either won or lost. You were either on the bus or off the bus.
Now, clearly the onslaught of computer technology with its binary numbering system has some connection, but we no longer seem to care for anything more than winners and losers. Remember when Avis was proud of being Number 2? No more. We even extended competitions in order to prevent ties in sporting events.
Except for the Olympics, nobody remembers who came in second. It is no longer honorable to be anything other than a winner. "We're Number 1!" And if the team I support is Number 1, that makes me Number 1, too!
However, if everybody wins, then nobody loses. And if nobody loses, then nobody wins.
Why did we make jokes about not being able to program a VCR? Because the majority of us are actually losers.
Remember when we used to say "May the best man win" even in two-people competitions? Don't dare say that around feminists.
It doesn't take a Rhodes scholar or a college graduate to figure out that everybody would like to be a winner, but not everybody can. Once everybody is equal in terms of speed, strength and dexterity, all races end in ties.
Therefore, we need to compromise. In order to allow the human race to end in a tie with as many people as possible becoming winners, we need to cooperate with one another. When we help each other, we help ourselves and eventually everyone.
The only way we can all be winners is to revere the few Einsteins, rocket scientists, Rhodes scholars and college graduates for their victories.
I rest my case.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Creatures Great and Small
Here's what gets me.
I live in Boulder, Colorado, sometimes derisively referred to as "the People's Republic of Boulder" and sometimes scornfully called "25 square miles of fantasy surrounded by reality," usually by people who live in nearby communities and are jealous of the residents who live in the city with one of the highest educated populations per capita in the country and one of the counties that continually votes Democratic in a Republican state.
Well, in the spirit of Chevy Chase on the first "Weekend Update" segments of "Saturday Night Live," I say to all those people, "I live here and you don't."
I say this with all due sympathy and respect, especially in light of all the constant hullabaloo (There's a word you don't see much of since the Sixties.) in Boulder civic circles about the town's needing more "affordable housing," because it is too expensive to live here for the people who work in the service industry, people like waitpersons and salesclerks and ticket takers and janitors.
(Question: Why is it quote: "politically incorrect" unquote: to call someone a "waiter" or a "waitress" and thus we use the artificially created word of "waitperson," but not quote: unquote: politically incorrect to call someone a "janitor," and so no one has created the artificial word of "janitperson" to refer to custodians of both sexes?)
Consequently, these so-called menial workers of undeterminable sex must live in nearby towns where jealousy is high and rents and costs of houses are lower, and they have to commute to Boulder to their jobs. Guess what the second most-pressing problem is in Boulder where the top problem is "affordable housing."
Right. Prairie dogs.
"What?" you say? "Prairie dogs?" you say? "How can burrowing rodents be a problem in a city?" you say?
Okay, okay! Not so much in the quote: unquote: "city" as in the surrounding open-space areas owned by Boulder County, which is an even nicer place to live than the City of Boulder, because you can still vote Democrat and be proud of it, you can still bask in the glow of pride of being associated with one of the unique and most desirable places to live in the country (all puns intended) and you don't have to put up with those clowns in City Hall.
You do, however (and by "you," I mean "me"), have to put up with those wildly clothed and gawkishly made-up jesters in County Hall.
(I kid the clowns in County Hall. I don't even know if they dress in gaudy clothing. I don't even know if there is such a thing as a "County Hall." I do, however, believe that some of them actually wear makeup, meaning those of the non-undetermined-sex types who are not ashamed to be known by words that identify them as being a member of the female sex, such as "county commissioner.")
(Hmmm, why is that not "county commissionperson," because sometimes there are two men and one woman serving in that office.)
Now, the reason for this mild outburst on my part is a local newspaper item I read once that began, "Boulder county open space managers are working against prairie dogs' instincts."
The story wasn't about how managepersons are trying to get the prairie dogs to stop building homes by digging burrows or to prevent them from having sex with other prairie dogs--. No! Wait! I take that back! It was about how they are trying to do that, but can't!
In other words, I guess you can quote: unquote: "fight County Hall."
You see, the people of Boulder are very environmentally conscious (no pun intended), and they manage to get laws passed that don't allow greedy land developers to build big old ugly houses on land where the prairie dogs have been living happily and peacefully for centuries (except for the occasional marauding eagle, hawk or coyote, of course), unless they arrange for the prairie dogs and their innocent prairie pups to be uprooted (pun intended) from their Burrow Sweet Burrows first and transplanted to another prairie dogless and burrowless open-space area.
However, those rascally prairie dogs aren't staying put, so to speak. They keep having sex and building new burrows on adjoining land where they aren't wanted.
So, here is an idea to solve all "affordable housing," "traffic" and "prairie dog instinct" problems: Train the prairie dogs to wait tables, sell merchandise, take tickets and be janitdogs.
They even come with their own affordable housing.
I rest my case.
I live in Boulder, Colorado, sometimes derisively referred to as "the People's Republic of Boulder" and sometimes scornfully called "25 square miles of fantasy surrounded by reality," usually by people who live in nearby communities and are jealous of the residents who live in the city with one of the highest educated populations per capita in the country and one of the counties that continually votes Democratic in a Republican state.
Well, in the spirit of Chevy Chase on the first "Weekend Update" segments of "Saturday Night Live," I say to all those people, "I live here and you don't."
I say this with all due sympathy and respect, especially in light of all the constant hullabaloo (There's a word you don't see much of since the Sixties.) in Boulder civic circles about the town's needing more "affordable housing," because it is too expensive to live here for the people who work in the service industry, people like waitpersons and salesclerks and ticket takers and janitors.
(Question: Why is it quote: "politically incorrect" unquote: to call someone a "waiter" or a "waitress" and thus we use the artificially created word of "waitperson," but not quote: unquote: politically incorrect to call someone a "janitor," and so no one has created the artificial word of "janitperson" to refer to custodians of both sexes?)
Consequently, these so-called menial workers of undeterminable sex must live in nearby towns where jealousy is high and rents and costs of houses are lower, and they have to commute to Boulder to their jobs. Guess what the second most-pressing problem is in Boulder where the top problem is "affordable housing."
Right. Prairie dogs.
"What?" you say? "Prairie dogs?" you say? "How can burrowing rodents be a problem in a city?" you say?
Okay, okay! Not so much in the quote: unquote: "city" as in the surrounding open-space areas owned by Boulder County, which is an even nicer place to live than the City of Boulder, because you can still vote Democrat and be proud of it, you can still bask in the glow of pride of being associated with one of the unique and most desirable places to live in the country (all puns intended) and you don't have to put up with those clowns in City Hall.
You do, however (and by "you," I mean "me"), have to put up with those wildly clothed and gawkishly made-up jesters in County Hall.
(I kid the clowns in County Hall. I don't even know if they dress in gaudy clothing. I don't even know if there is such a thing as a "County Hall." I do, however, believe that some of them actually wear makeup, meaning those of the non-undetermined-sex types who are not ashamed to be known by words that identify them as being a member of the female sex, such as "county commissioner.")
(Hmmm, why is that not "county commissionperson," because sometimes there are two men and one woman serving in that office.)
Now, the reason for this mild outburst on my part is a local newspaper item I read once that began, "Boulder county open space managers are working against prairie dogs' instincts."
The story wasn't about how managepersons are trying to get the prairie dogs to stop building homes by digging burrows or to prevent them from having sex with other prairie dogs--. No! Wait! I take that back! It was about how they are trying to do that, but can't!
In other words, I guess you can quote: unquote: "fight County Hall."
You see, the people of Boulder are very environmentally conscious (no pun intended), and they manage to get laws passed that don't allow greedy land developers to build big old ugly houses on land where the prairie dogs have been living happily and peacefully for centuries (except for the occasional marauding eagle, hawk or coyote, of course), unless they arrange for the prairie dogs and their innocent prairie pups to be uprooted (pun intended) from their Burrow Sweet Burrows first and transplanted to another prairie dogless and burrowless open-space area.
However, those rascally prairie dogs aren't staying put, so to speak. They keep having sex and building new burrows on adjoining land where they aren't wanted.
So, here is an idea to solve all "affordable housing," "traffic" and "prairie dog instinct" problems: Train the prairie dogs to wait tables, sell merchandise, take tickets and be janitdogs.
They even come with their own affordable housing.
I rest my case.
Monday, August 22, 2011
15 Minutes or More of Fame
Here's what gets me.
Back in 1968, Andy Warhol wrote in the catalogue for a photography exhibition of his in Stockholm, Sweden, "In the future everyone will be world-famous for fifteen minutes."
What he didn't add, however, is that everyone would want to be world-famous.
How about you? Would you like to be world-famous? Now, think long and hard before you answer. I'll wait....
Are you ready with your answer? Did you consider all the ramifications of just what "famous" means? According to The Merriam-Webster Dictionary:
famous: 1: widely known 2: honored for achievement 3: excellent, first-rate syn renowned, celebrated, noted, notorious, distinguished, eminent, illustrious
Now, think of some world-famous people and consider if you would really want to live like them.
Movie stars? Unless you have the looks of Julia Roberts or the talent of Robert De Niro, you aren't going to be making $20 million a movie, but you will have to work really hard for long, demanding hours and you will still be pestered in public restrooms for your autograph and you still won't be able to go shopping by yourself.
And speaking of De Niro, he once starred in a movie that really was called 15 minutes, which is about this very topic, and he dies.
Oops! Sorry, if you haven't seen the movie. Disregard that last sentence. Maybe he doesn't die. Maybe he only pretends to be dead, but he has to fight a couple of bad guys while tied to a chair, and he has to drive really fast through Manhattan and run as hard as he can through the streets of New York City, and we all know how dangerous that can be.
So, my point is, if you don't have looks or talent, being world-famous as a movie star is going to get you diddly-squat.
Politicians? What, are you crazy? Why would anyone want to be world-famous as the leader of a country? Those guys and some gals work excruciatingly long hours, they are watched every minute by someone and some of them are even killed by their enemies!
Oh, sure, obviously some minutes, President Clinton wasn't watched, but is being constantly watched and hounded by the press now as a private citizen really worth a few moments of under-the-desk sexual pleasure that wasn't really sex?
Oh, sure, President Bush was world-famous once, but would you really want to be "under the gun" (so to speak) so that every little thing you said was made fun of the following weekend on "Saturday Night Live"? Would you really want to have numerous Internet Websites devoted to just the stupid things you said and the dumb-looking, chimp-like facial expressions you made? Would you really want every aspect of your wild youth and drug-history past investigated and brought out into the open so that you have to admit all accusations by refusing to comment on them?
(Note to audience: You don't have to wait for the answers to these questions.)
Now, the reason I bring up this subject of 15 minutes of being world-famous is a story in the newspaper I read about nine local residents having the opportunity in what was called "a truly avant-garde auction" one year at the Lakewood Country Club near Denver to have "some sudden name fame."
As part of the Jefferson County Library Foundation's "Rare & Novel Night," an annual auction that sells old books, seven authors, including Clive Cussler and Tony Hillerman, had agreed to include nine winning bidders' names in their forthcoming novels. (Hillerman agreed to put three local names in his next book, which accounts for the numerical discrepancy, but which also waters down the "fame" thing, don't you agree?)
What, are these people crazy? Sure, it is all for a good cause in that all proceeds will help the foundation pay for a "traveling library center" (sounds suspiciously like a "bookmobile," don't you think?), but pay to get your name in print? Five lucky "winners" names are hidden every month in my trash-bill literature. Spot your name and get a discount on your next month's bill.
So, here is what I am proposing if you want a piece of that 15-minute world-famous action: Add a comment here on this Website and then wait for others to comment on your comment if it's clever, and you can forever crow about having had your name in print.
For free! Without being pestered in public restrooms. Without having to work long hours or put up with public humiliation.
I rest my case.
Back in 1968, Andy Warhol wrote in the catalogue for a photography exhibition of his in Stockholm, Sweden, "In the future everyone will be world-famous for fifteen minutes."
What he didn't add, however, is that everyone would want to be world-famous.
How about you? Would you like to be world-famous? Now, think long and hard before you answer. I'll wait....
Are you ready with your answer? Did you consider all the ramifications of just what "famous" means? According to The Merriam-Webster Dictionary:
famous: 1: widely known 2: honored for achievement 3: excellent, first-rate syn renowned, celebrated, noted, notorious, distinguished, eminent, illustrious
Now, think of some world-famous people and consider if you would really want to live like them.
Movie stars? Unless you have the looks of Julia Roberts or the talent of Robert De Niro, you aren't going to be making $20 million a movie, but you will have to work really hard for long, demanding hours and you will still be pestered in public restrooms for your autograph and you still won't be able to go shopping by yourself.
And speaking of De Niro, he once starred in a movie that really was called 15 minutes, which is about this very topic, and he dies.
Oops! Sorry, if you haven't seen the movie. Disregard that last sentence. Maybe he doesn't die. Maybe he only pretends to be dead, but he has to fight a couple of bad guys while tied to a chair, and he has to drive really fast through Manhattan and run as hard as he can through the streets of New York City, and we all know how dangerous that can be.
So, my point is, if you don't have looks or talent, being world-famous as a movie star is going to get you diddly-squat.
Politicians? What, are you crazy? Why would anyone want to be world-famous as the leader of a country? Those guys and some gals work excruciatingly long hours, they are watched every minute by someone and some of them are even killed by their enemies!
Oh, sure, obviously some minutes, President Clinton wasn't watched, but is being constantly watched and hounded by the press now as a private citizen really worth a few moments of under-the-desk sexual pleasure that wasn't really sex?
Oh, sure, President Bush was world-famous once, but would you really want to be "under the gun" (so to speak) so that every little thing you said was made fun of the following weekend on "Saturday Night Live"? Would you really want to have numerous Internet Websites devoted to just the stupid things you said and the dumb-looking, chimp-like facial expressions you made? Would you really want every aspect of your wild youth and drug-history past investigated and brought out into the open so that you have to admit all accusations by refusing to comment on them?
(Note to audience: You don't have to wait for the answers to these questions.)
Now, the reason I bring up this subject of 15 minutes of being world-famous is a story in the newspaper I read about nine local residents having the opportunity in what was called "a truly avant-garde auction" one year at the Lakewood Country Club near Denver to have "some sudden name fame."
As part of the Jefferson County Library Foundation's "Rare & Novel Night," an annual auction that sells old books, seven authors, including Clive Cussler and Tony Hillerman, had agreed to include nine winning bidders' names in their forthcoming novels. (Hillerman agreed to put three local names in his next book, which accounts for the numerical discrepancy, but which also waters down the "fame" thing, don't you agree?)
What, are these people crazy? Sure, it is all for a good cause in that all proceeds will help the foundation pay for a "traveling library center" (sounds suspiciously like a "bookmobile," don't you think?), but pay to get your name in print? Five lucky "winners" names are hidden every month in my trash-bill literature. Spot your name and get a discount on your next month's bill.
So, here is what I am proposing if you want a piece of that 15-minute world-famous action: Add a comment here on this Website and then wait for others to comment on your comment if it's clever, and you can forever crow about having had your name in print.
For free! Without being pestered in public restrooms. Without having to work long hours or put up with public humiliation.
I rest my case.
Friday, August 05, 2011
The Dying of the Yuppie
Here's what gets me.
We seem to have an unhealthy concern for names, labels and statistics (or, as David Letterman says they say in Indiana: "sa-tis-tics").
For example, a poll was conducted in 1991 that concluded the Age of the Yuppie was dying and people were more interested in good health and a happy marriage than they used to be.
The poll was actually a telephone survey of 600 adults conducted for the Lifetime cable show "The Great American TV Poll" with these results:
* Forty percent (that is, 240 people) said that faith in God was what they valued most.
* Twenty-nine percent (174 people) said "a happy marriage."
* Five percent (30 people) said a job they enjoy.
* Two percent (12 people) said the money they make.
* Two percent (12 more people) said respect for people in the community.
* One percent (6 people) said none of the mentioned values was most important to them.
Now, the results of this poll were reported in a newspaper article with the headline "Poll finds that the Age of the Yuppie is dying."
Wait a minute! Who said anything about "Yuppies"? How did the newspaper reporter (or, more likely, the headline writer) conclude the "age of the Yuppie" was dying from the fact that 240 people out of 600 said that faith in God was what they valued most down to 12 people who said that none of the mentioned values was most important to them?
Another cheap joke at the expense of the much-maligned "Young Upwardly Mobile Professionals" (read "successful Baby Boomers"--"Subbies," maybe?)?
We don't even know what values were mentioned in the poll. We don't even know that those 600 anonymous people were Yuppies. We don't know what a true Yuppie is, and we don't even know that the poll was designed to tell us anything about Yuppies.
All we know is that a poll was conducted by telephone involving 600 adults, they responded to a list of suggested values as to which was most important to them and the newspaper article took a cheap shot at so-called Yuppies, probably because only two percent responded that the money they make was most important.
However, that was then and this is now, as some people like to say when they need a transition. And there happens to be some evidence that the term "Yuppie" is dying, if not the "age" itself.
For example, The Denver Post once reported that the acronym had "gone the way of the yellow tie," saying that it first appeared in 1984 at the height of the Reagan era and "stuck as a symbol for conspicuous consumption."
I disagree. I believe it stuck as a symbol for a subset of the Baby Boomer generation to get blamed for all the excesses that the Reagan era brought us, as well as a one-word, recognizable term that could be used as a cheap shot to get a knee-jerk reaction, just like "hippie" and "peacenik" were used in the years before Reagan.
At any rate, the Post reported that in 1986 the term appeared in 386 articles in The New York Times, but in 1992, "just 199." Just 199? That's more than half, or 51.5544 percent, to be exact and excessive.
The space shuttle Challenger exploded in 1986, U.S. warplanes attacked and bombed Libya in 1986 and Ivan Boesky (hardly a Yuppie and definitely not a Baby Boomer) pleaded guilty in 1986 to an unspecified criminal count, paid a $100 million fine, returned his profits from illegal trading and was banned for life from trading seciurities. What do you want to bet that the appearance of "Challenger," "Muammar al-Qadaffy" and "Ivan Boesky" dropped off 51.5544 percent in New York Times articles from 1986 to 1991?
In fact, if it weren't for the success of Yuppies and the jealousy of both non-Yuppie Baby Boomers (Nubbies?) and non-Baby Boomers (Nobbies?), the term would never have caught on in the first place.
However, just like "Cleveland," "geezer" and "the New York Mets," use of the term can bring an instant, knee-jerk reaction in your audience and a smug, self-satisfied expression of "Boy, am I glad I'm not one of them!"
And the sooner we stop using names, labels and statistics to do our thinking for us, the sooner we will start showing respect for the people we are talking and thinking about.
Assuming they deserve it, of course.
I rest my case.
We seem to have an unhealthy concern for names, labels and statistics (or, as David Letterman says they say in Indiana: "sa-tis-tics").
For example, a poll was conducted in 1991 that concluded the Age of the Yuppie was dying and people were more interested in good health and a happy marriage than they used to be.
The poll was actually a telephone survey of 600 adults conducted for the Lifetime cable show "The Great American TV Poll" with these results:
* Forty percent (that is, 240 people) said that faith in God was what they valued most.
* Twenty-nine percent (174 people) said "a happy marriage."
* Five percent (30 people) said a job they enjoy.
* Two percent (12 people) said the money they make.
* Two percent (12 more people) said respect for people in the community.
* One percent (6 people) said none of the mentioned values was most important to them.
Now, the results of this poll were reported in a newspaper article with the headline "Poll finds that the Age of the Yuppie is dying."
Wait a minute! Who said anything about "Yuppies"? How did the newspaper reporter (or, more likely, the headline writer) conclude the "age of the Yuppie" was dying from the fact that 240 people out of 600 said that faith in God was what they valued most down to 12 people who said that none of the mentioned values was most important to them?
Another cheap joke at the expense of the much-maligned "Young Upwardly Mobile Professionals" (read "successful Baby Boomers"--"Subbies," maybe?)?
We don't even know what values were mentioned in the poll. We don't even know that those 600 anonymous people were Yuppies. We don't know what a true Yuppie is, and we don't even know that the poll was designed to tell us anything about Yuppies.
All we know is that a poll was conducted by telephone involving 600 adults, they responded to a list of suggested values as to which was most important to them and the newspaper article took a cheap shot at so-called Yuppies, probably because only two percent responded that the money they make was most important.
However, that was then and this is now, as some people like to say when they need a transition. And there happens to be some evidence that the term "Yuppie" is dying, if not the "age" itself.
For example, The Denver Post once reported that the acronym had "gone the way of the yellow tie," saying that it first appeared in 1984 at the height of the Reagan era and "stuck as a symbol for conspicuous consumption."
I disagree. I believe it stuck as a symbol for a subset of the Baby Boomer generation to get blamed for all the excesses that the Reagan era brought us, as well as a one-word, recognizable term that could be used as a cheap shot to get a knee-jerk reaction, just like "hippie" and "peacenik" were used in the years before Reagan.
At any rate, the Post reported that in 1986 the term appeared in 386 articles in The New York Times, but in 1992, "just 199." Just 199? That's more than half, or 51.5544 percent, to be exact and excessive.
The space shuttle Challenger exploded in 1986, U.S. warplanes attacked and bombed Libya in 1986 and Ivan Boesky (hardly a Yuppie and definitely not a Baby Boomer) pleaded guilty in 1986 to an unspecified criminal count, paid a $100 million fine, returned his profits from illegal trading and was banned for life from trading seciurities. What do you want to bet that the appearance of "Challenger," "Muammar al-Qadaffy" and "Ivan Boesky" dropped off 51.5544 percent in New York Times articles from 1986 to 1991?
In fact, if it weren't for the success of Yuppies and the jealousy of both non-Yuppie Baby Boomers (Nubbies?) and non-Baby Boomers (Nobbies?), the term would never have caught on in the first place.
However, just like "Cleveland," "geezer" and "the New York Mets," use of the term can bring an instant, knee-jerk reaction in your audience and a smug, self-satisfied expression of "Boy, am I glad I'm not one of them!"
And the sooner we stop using names, labels and statistics to do our thinking for us, the sooner we will start showing respect for the people we are talking and thinking about.
Assuming they deserve it, of course.
I rest my case.
Monday, July 25, 2011
The Dumb Leading the Dumb
Here's what gets me.
Every so often (and sometimes even every day), I will read something in the newspaper that indicates to me that people all over the world are just getting dumber than a chicken with its head cut off.
Now, some of you might question how I know just how dumb and/or smart a chicken with its head cut off is, seeing as how hardly anyone today even gets to see a live chicken anymore, with or without its top fitting.
The answer is simple. When I was a boy, many's the time my family would drive to Como, Texas, to visit my grandparents on their farm, and every Sunday I would watch Grandma go out back to fetch Sunday dinner.
She would select a particularly plump hen from the coop, which shows you that chickens aren't exactly Rhodes scholars even with their heads on, because surely they would have suspected something after all those Sundays of watching their relatives disappear one by one.
Then Grandma would take that flightless wonder back toward the house, and she would stand firmly with her stumpy legs apart and fling that hen by the neck around and around her own head until the bird and its noggin were separated with a snap.
So, would that suspicious chicken rush back to the safety of its coop, as any intelligent creature would do? It would not. It would flap and flutter around the back yard like a--well--like a chicken with its head cut off, allowing Grandma to pick it up and put it out of its misery in the frying pan. Now, that is dumb.
But I digress. What did I read once that leads me to believe that people all over the world are just getting dumber than Sunday dinner, you ask? I'll tell you.
A judge in Louisiana threw out a lawsuit against Hollywood director Oliver Stone on First Amendment grounds that claimed his 1994 movie Natural Born Killers led to a young couple's bloody crime rampage.
What's dumb about that, you ask? That's not the dumb part. That's the smart part. The dumb part was that the lawsuit was filed in the first place against the makers of the movie by the family of a Louisiana store clerk who was shot and paralyzed in a rampage by a girl and her boyfriend in an apparent copy-cat series of crimes. (In case you haven't seen this bloody, violent, satirical work of art, a girl and her boyfriend go on a bloody--yes--rampage, but are caught in the all's well that end's well.)
Now, we don't know if the grieving family just happened to be greedy and thought they could make some easy money off the tragedy of their store-clerk relative or if they were just dumber than a--here it comes again--a chicken with all its parts save one. But if you are so dumb as to be influenced to copy-cat the deeds of a movie you see or a book you read or a TV show you stare at and not consider the right and wrong or the good and bad or the likely consequences of your duplicate actions, then you should never see or read or watch Moby-Dick, or you just might find yourself in a rowboat out on the ocean searching for a white sperm whale.
However, if you are a tall lanky man with a scar down your face and into your beard and with only one leg attached to you, you might be forgiven, especially if you lost that leg by somebody's sweet little grandmother grabbing that limb and flinging you around and around her head until it separated from the rest of your body and you went running away as best you could like a--are you ready for this one?--a one-legged sailor.
If you are not a etc. etc. etc., then you are just dumb, because if you could pay attention to the end of the movie or the novel or the TV broadcast, you would have known that Captain Ahab dies.
And anyone who copy-cats a protagonist in a tragic event that ends in the protagonist's death is either dumber than a--one more time--decapitated chanticleer or one leg short of a crazy, whale-obsessed, seagoing madman.
Did Elizabethans run around killing their stepfathers after seeing a performance of Hamlet? No.
Do deer run amuck after watching Bambi? No.
But apparently we do.
I rest my case.
Every so often (and sometimes even every day), I will read something in the newspaper that indicates to me that people all over the world are just getting dumber than a chicken with its head cut off.
Now, some of you might question how I know just how dumb and/or smart a chicken with its head cut off is, seeing as how hardly anyone today even gets to see a live chicken anymore, with or without its top fitting.
The answer is simple. When I was a boy, many's the time my family would drive to Como, Texas, to visit my grandparents on their farm, and every Sunday I would watch Grandma go out back to fetch Sunday dinner.
She would select a particularly plump hen from the coop, which shows you that chickens aren't exactly Rhodes scholars even with their heads on, because surely they would have suspected something after all those Sundays of watching their relatives disappear one by one.
Then Grandma would take that flightless wonder back toward the house, and she would stand firmly with her stumpy legs apart and fling that hen by the neck around and around her own head until the bird and its noggin were separated with a snap.
So, would that suspicious chicken rush back to the safety of its coop, as any intelligent creature would do? It would not. It would flap and flutter around the back yard like a--well--like a chicken with its head cut off, allowing Grandma to pick it up and put it out of its misery in the frying pan. Now, that is dumb.
But I digress. What did I read once that leads me to believe that people all over the world are just getting dumber than Sunday dinner, you ask? I'll tell you.
A judge in Louisiana threw out a lawsuit against Hollywood director Oliver Stone on First Amendment grounds that claimed his 1994 movie Natural Born Killers led to a young couple's bloody crime rampage.
What's dumb about that, you ask? That's not the dumb part. That's the smart part. The dumb part was that the lawsuit was filed in the first place against the makers of the movie by the family of a Louisiana store clerk who was shot and paralyzed in a rampage by a girl and her boyfriend in an apparent copy-cat series of crimes. (In case you haven't seen this bloody, violent, satirical work of art, a girl and her boyfriend go on a bloody--yes--rampage, but are caught in the all's well that end's well.)
Now, we don't know if the grieving family just happened to be greedy and thought they could make some easy money off the tragedy of their store-clerk relative or if they were just dumber than a--here it comes again--a chicken with all its parts save one. But if you are so dumb as to be influenced to copy-cat the deeds of a movie you see or a book you read or a TV show you stare at and not consider the right and wrong or the good and bad or the likely consequences of your duplicate actions, then you should never see or read or watch Moby-Dick, or you just might find yourself in a rowboat out on the ocean searching for a white sperm whale.
However, if you are a tall lanky man with a scar down your face and into your beard and with only one leg attached to you, you might be forgiven, especially if you lost that leg by somebody's sweet little grandmother grabbing that limb and flinging you around and around her head until it separated from the rest of your body and you went running away as best you could like a--are you ready for this one?--a one-legged sailor.
If you are not a etc. etc. etc., then you are just dumb, because if you could pay attention to the end of the movie or the novel or the TV broadcast, you would have known that Captain Ahab dies.
And anyone who copy-cats a protagonist in a tragic event that ends in the protagonist's death is either dumber than a--one more time--decapitated chanticleer or one leg short of a crazy, whale-obsessed, seagoing madman.
Did Elizabethans run around killing their stepfathers after seeing a performance of Hamlet? No.
Do deer run amuck after watching Bambi? No.
But apparently we do.
I rest my case.
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