Wednesday, May 30, 2007
A Few Things
I believe in the rights of gays to adopt children or have their own as they see fit, legalization of marijuana, and that the First Amendment protects both pornography and hate speech. I support public schools and would double or triple their funding if they could be held accountable for truly liberal education. I believe that government should seed the creation of mass systems of public transportation which will then run for profit or at least at cost. I believe Creationism is the product of fearful and ignorant minds. I believe God is a concept that arises naturally from biological evolution, yet a concept we should take very seriously. I believe in human progress and in individual liberty. I believe the Earth is shrinking rapidly in terms of humanity's impact upon it. I believe that if humanity does not learn within a few short centuries how to get along (possibly as few as one), human civilization will cease its upward turn, and will shrink bitterly and endure an endless night. In the service of these beliefs, I am also apparently something of a neocon, depending on your definition, and am still generally of the opinion that when confronting Iraq we were not so much wrong as ahead of our time. At the strategic level, my views are reasonably echoed here by Norman Podhoretz.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Happy Simple Morning
Real life and news and so on are harsh enough, I want to think about nice things this morning.
My mom just called to say hi, I told her how well her grandsons are doing (and they really are), and then she had to go because her train was coming. Maybe it's because I grew up before trains and cell phones, but I thought that was the coolest thing.
Trains are on a comeback, if not nearly fast enough. On my morning commute I drive along the new rail extension and always love seeing those little interurbans squeal by.
At 6:30 I take my son to school. He drives (learner's permit). The air is so fresh and warm. Not like my hometown, which had a hint of sea air. It smells of earth and new growth.
His high school has an agriculture department, and the sheep pens and hay ricks are over near the band room, so the atmosphere is redolent of more than earth and new growth. Reminds me happily of my first job after high school.
I lived a few weeks in Dixon, which at the time was smaller than Berkeley High, and worked in irrigation canal weed control. Early morning sunshine and the clean air that caresses Central Valley farmland before the dust rises were encoded somehow into my DNA. I will never tire of it. Maybe I will be buried in it.
The warmest feeling comes from being at a high school event, and seeing handsome tall young men and beautiful young women whom I know from scouting or from grade school or from pre-school some uncounted but incredibly few years ago. Their parents have changed but subtly, as have we. We wave and smile.
I go to the gym in the morning so that, no matter how the rest of the day turns out, it's not a total loss. For a little while I feel strong and youthful. You should try it. Jack La Lanne says we don't die of old age, we die of neglect. I expect to die of neither. Stairs come to mind.
My mom worked as decoration for a Jack La Lanne presentation one day about sixty years ago. I still think that's the coolest thing.
My dad served in the South Pacific and never heard a shot fired in anger. (I just felt like saying that to, you know, not leave him out.) He also built his own stereo before you could buy them commercially. That too is the coolest thing.
Well, staff meeting coming up, so I'll stop thinking of stuff. A lot of the above could use links per the usual methods of bloggeration but I'm not in the mood.
My mom just called to say hi, I told her how well her grandsons are doing (and they really are), and then she had to go because her train was coming. Maybe it's because I grew up before trains and cell phones, but I thought that was the coolest thing.
Trains are on a comeback, if not nearly fast enough. On my morning commute I drive along the new rail extension and always love seeing those little interurbans squeal by.
At 6:30 I take my son to school. He drives (learner's permit). The air is so fresh and warm. Not like my hometown, which had a hint of sea air. It smells of earth and new growth.
His high school has an agriculture department, and the sheep pens and hay ricks are over near the band room, so the atmosphere is redolent of more than earth and new growth. Reminds me happily of my first job after high school.
I lived a few weeks in Dixon, which at the time was smaller than Berkeley High, and worked in irrigation canal weed control. Early morning sunshine and the clean air that caresses Central Valley farmland before the dust rises were encoded somehow into my DNA. I will never tire of it. Maybe I will be buried in it.
The warmest feeling comes from being at a high school event, and seeing handsome tall young men and beautiful young women whom I know from scouting or from grade school or from pre-school some uncounted but incredibly few years ago. Their parents have changed but subtly, as have we. We wave and smile.
I go to the gym in the morning so that, no matter how the rest of the day turns out, it's not a total loss. For a little while I feel strong and youthful. You should try it. Jack La Lanne says we don't die of old age, we die of neglect. I expect to die of neither. Stairs come to mind.
My mom worked as decoration for a Jack La Lanne presentation one day about sixty years ago. I still think that's the coolest thing.
My dad served in the South Pacific and never heard a shot fired in anger. (I just felt like saying that to, you know, not leave him out.) He also built his own stereo before you could buy them commercially. That too is the coolest thing.
Well, staff meeting coming up, so I'll stop thinking of stuff. A lot of the above could use links per the usual methods of bloggeration but I'm not in the mood.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
More Than Gears Shift
Selfish of me. But despair and grief flow like blood. They flow through my veins and spill out onto the floor.
It’s local. Should that matter? He went to my kids’ high school. The names would probably be familiar if I knew more high school kids. An indifferent student, popular enough, goofy no doubt. Same wry smile as my son’s. If you cut my son’s hair and put him in that hat and told me it was him, I’d almost buy it.
He called his mother on Mother’s Day. He sent her a present, and he died.
My son turns eighteen in fifteen days. He plans to go to college and pursue music and general ed. But he also wants to get the hell out of town and keeps saying an Army recruiter will be calling. I keep saying, hey, go down to San Francisco, hang out a few days; or go to junior college down there, what the hell. Yes, move or stay, whatever works for you. Army? You’ll hate it.
I think he hears me. He wants to learn Italian and how to sing. For his senior project review yesterday, he sang an aria from Don Giovanni.
I don’t know what Alejandro did for his. My wife is on the review panel today. Maybe she will meet people who remember.
Out across the floor, red and dark, it seeps into the carpet, and it probably won’t come out.
It’s local. Should that matter? He went to my kids’ high school. The names would probably be familiar if I knew more high school kids. An indifferent student, popular enough, goofy no doubt. Same wry smile as my son’s. If you cut my son’s hair and put him in that hat and told me it was him, I’d almost buy it.
He called his mother on Mother’s Day. He sent her a present, and he died.
My son turns eighteen in fifteen days. He plans to go to college and pursue music and general ed. But he also wants to get the hell out of town and keeps saying an Army recruiter will be calling. I keep saying, hey, go down to San Francisco, hang out a few days; or go to junior college down there, what the hell. Yes, move or stay, whatever works for you. Army? You’ll hate it.
I think he hears me. He wants to learn Italian and how to sing. For his senior project review yesterday, he sang an aria from Don Giovanni.
I don’t know what Alejandro did for his. My wife is on the review panel today. Maybe she will meet people who remember.
Out across the floor, red and dark, it seeps into the carpet, and it probably won’t come out.
Con men, crime writers
Recent claims by Jimmy Carter that George W. Bush is the worst President in history have brought to mind Warren G. Harding, for he is most often connected with that honor. He was pretty much a boob, yet the sketch at Wikipedia* also shows he was a pretty interesting man. Self-made, a first-rate orator, tall and handsome. He was essentially bullied into marrying and got his revenge with a couple affairs, one of which led to a daughter and the other, a successful case of extortion against the Republican Party. His was the first newsreel campaign, and thus he was the first to be remarked upon as being Presidential in appearance and manner as distinct from character. I see him as being something of a Kennedy or Clinton in his private life, a Reagan at projecting image, and comparable to Bush when it comes to cluelessness and cronyism.
Some good men get elected and are undone by it — Hoover and Taft come to mind as good men undone by the office. I used to think Carter, too, but I'm not so sure any more. I think his low ranking is well-deserved and the more he says these days, the more I think it. Reagan succeeded in part because his conservative instincts were timely but also because his Hollywood-trained mannerisms were timely too. Some natural-born criminals get in there as well — Nixon was brilliant but had the instincts of a crime boss, and G. W. Bush is a first-rate con man (or, if Harding was first-rate, then Bush perhaps ranks second).
All this made me think that Harding would be a great subject for a novel of historical fiction, confidence games, and crime. A quick search reveals that James Ellroy thinks so too. But whether or not he will really write the book, I don’t know. I do know that Ellroy has led an interesting life, and I haven’t read him yet, and he is said to have a unique style so I really need to get on it.
* Wikipedia sucks and is indispensable at the same time. It is indispensable because it offers quick info and insights into everything from presidential elections to architectural features to musical styles. It sucks because too often the articles are not only dubious but badly written.
Some good men get elected and are undone by it — Hoover and Taft come to mind as good men undone by the office. I used to think Carter, too, but I'm not so sure any more. I think his low ranking is well-deserved and the more he says these days, the more I think it. Reagan succeeded in part because his conservative instincts were timely but also because his Hollywood-trained mannerisms were timely too. Some natural-born criminals get in there as well — Nixon was brilliant but had the instincts of a crime boss, and G. W. Bush is a first-rate con man (or, if Harding was first-rate, then Bush perhaps ranks second).
All this made me think that Harding would be a great subject for a novel of historical fiction, confidence games, and crime. A quick search reveals that James Ellroy thinks so too. But whether or not he will really write the book, I don’t know. I do know that Ellroy has led an interesting life, and I haven’t read him yet, and he is said to have a unique style so I really need to get on it.
* Wikipedia sucks and is indispensable at the same time. It is indispensable because it offers quick info and insights into everything from presidential elections to architectural features to musical styles. It sucks because too often the articles are not only dubious but badly written.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Friday, May 18, 2007
Bike To Work Day
Police tape blocks off part of the parking lot. Tables are set up on the sidewalk. Mounds of muffins and bananas and great containers of juice await the participants. Soon all sorts of people will come huffing in on their hastily-refurbished bicycles. They each will get a raffle ticket and someone will win a brand new mountain bike.
It is every American’s patriotic duty to reduce his energy footprint and we do our part to encourage it. Believe that? This is California, hello? It’s an excuse for a party. Oh, and a chance to be a part of something bigger than oneself, something that is good for the planet, something that everyone else is doing, something that gives out free food and a raffle ticket.
I’m all for it. But I didn’t do it. I forgot. Also, my old bicycle is in serious need of a tune-up. A ride to work would be nice, though. It’s only about six miles, and I’ve always wanted to ride across the new bridge early one morning. Here’s the view,stolen borrowed from the owner of another local blog.
I don’t anyway because a) I drop my son off at school in the morning and he’s not yet licensed to drive on his own, b) about half the time I start my day at the gym anyway, and c) I rather like having a car for those random lunch hours when I suddenly realize I absolutely positively need to go to Wal-Mart. Yes, that happens. Horrible, isn’t it?
It is every American’s patriotic duty to reduce his energy footprint and we do our part to encourage it. Believe that? This is California, hello? It’s an excuse for a party. Oh, and a chance to be a part of something bigger than oneself, something that is good for the planet, something that everyone else is doing, something that gives out free food and a raffle ticket.
I’m all for it. But I didn’t do it. I forgot. Also, my old bicycle is in serious need of a tune-up. A ride to work would be nice, though. It’s only about six miles, and I’ve always wanted to ride across the new bridge early one morning. Here’s the view,
I don’t anyway because a) I drop my son off at school in the morning and he’s not yet licensed to drive on his own, b) about half the time I start my day at the gym anyway, and c) I rather like having a car for those random lunch hours when I suddenly realize I absolutely positively need to go to Wal-Mart. Yes, that happens. Horrible, isn’t it?
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Cause and Effect
I'm in a phase and don't wanna blog. But I don't wanna resist either.
The best reason to resist is that I will end up writing about politics. Much better to write about cherry tree as metaphor for life.
Ooh, instant haiku!
Actually, I don't care about politics much at all. What I care about are the things people will have to do once the politicians become powerful enough to decide what that will be. Only that feeds back into caring to notice the politicians.
So I guess I'll just say this. There's a lot of talk these days on the following theme:
Broadly speaking, the Republicans are trying for one and the Democrats are trying for the other. One is very difficult, might be impossible. The other is fairly easy, if enough people agree to it, but some believe the consequences long-run will be horrific.
It's all about consequences. Causes and effect. I'm all about cause and effect. Something to do with years of stuffy classrooms, calculus problems, vector diagrams, systems control theory ... and twenty years later discovering the principle of unintended consequences holds true even in such prosaic fields as electronics manufacturing (example summary: they are outlawing the use of lead-based solder so as to stop polluting the world with the lead from electronics manufacturing, only now that may result in worse pollution from, among other things, increases in zinc mining).
Point? We all want health and freedom for everyone. If for no other reason, because that maximizes the same for us. Lots of people have opinions on how to achieve it. They are impassioned by the urgency to avoid the other side's unintended consequences. I would only ask that we not get caught up in political slogans. "End the War, Bring the Troops Home" is not logically true if the terms are conjoined with an AND function. If they are disjoined (OR) or conjoined and inverted (NAND), then ... maybe.
Dig that, choose carefully -- and if the blackbirds leave us any cherries, come on by for a bowlful. Got fresh eggs too.
Oh, and if you still want politics, write yer congresscritter to:
Save chocolate!
Save internet radio!
The best reason to resist is that I will end up writing about politics. Much better to write about cherry tree as metaphor for life.
Ooh, instant haiku!
bowed under his fruitsBut politics encompass the process that makes our world. My work-life is all about processes and making things. And I care about the world, so I can't help but care about politics.
pondering his earthly home
burdened yet grateful
Actually, I don't care about politics much at all. What I care about are the things people will have to do once the politicians become powerful enough to decide what that will be. Only that feeds back into caring to notice the politicians.
So I guess I'll just say this. There's a lot of talk these days on the following theme:
End the War. Bring the Troops Home.Folks, look closer. Those two statements are mutually exclusive. You get one, or the other, or neither. You simply cannot get both.
Broadly speaking, the Republicans are trying for one and the Democrats are trying for the other. One is very difficult, might be impossible. The other is fairly easy, if enough people agree to it, but some believe the consequences long-run will be horrific.
It's all about consequences. Causes and effect. I'm all about cause and effect. Something to do with years of stuffy classrooms, calculus problems, vector diagrams, systems control theory ... and twenty years later discovering the principle of unintended consequences holds true even in such prosaic fields as electronics manufacturing (example summary: they are outlawing the use of lead-based solder so as to stop polluting the world with the lead from electronics manufacturing, only now that may result in worse pollution from, among other things, increases in zinc mining).
Point? We all want health and freedom for everyone. If for no other reason, because that maximizes the same for us. Lots of people have opinions on how to achieve it. They are impassioned by the urgency to avoid the other side's unintended consequences. I would only ask that we not get caught up in political slogans. "End the War, Bring the Troops Home" is not logically true if the terms are conjoined with an AND function. If they are disjoined (OR) or conjoined and inverted (NAND), then ... maybe.
Dig that, choose carefully -- and if the blackbirds leave us any cherries, come on by for a bowlful. Got fresh eggs too.
Oh, and if you still want politics, write yer congresscritter to:
Save chocolate!
Save internet radio!
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Friday, May 04, 2007
Three Minutes' Blogging
This post is like sneaking a cigarette. I'm trying to quit, honest!
But the news has a GOP debate wrap-up, and I don't have time to read it, and I wish I did. This is the best part of the campaign: Before the corporate machine tightens the reins, when diverse ideas are bravely put forth, when someone who might actually have ideas has the national ear. But I don't know who that is, because I can't read up on it.
Won't matter. I quit the party and can't vote in the primary. I spent twenty six years trying with my primary vote to pull the Republicans in a sane direction and though they went this way and that, in the end my votes did no good at all. The question then is, repudiate my repudiation and try again, or go Democrat? But I won't go Democrat. Even worse than empowered Republicans growing government and trampling the Constitution are newly-encouraged Democrats turning the current global struggles into a global war on their own President. I dislike Bush, but Reid and Pelosi have cemented my disgust with the post-Clinton Democratic Party. Their swift unraveling of Western attempts to isolate proven war-monger Syria and announcement that victory against America is easily achieved if you kill enough random civilians leaves me unable to accept that history won't treat them with utter contempt. Not now, but certainly after the broad warfare and social disruption their outlook is bound to generate.
Yes, for all our mistakes we've been trying to cap the bottle, while they want to hand it to those who would smash it open.
Oh, there I go again. I need to learn to STFU, don't I? Instead I should talk about how I just spent a few days in South Florida. I am liking my job, by and large. All I saw of Boca Raton was out the windows of a conference room or an airplane. Even so it was neat to smell the air of a different climate, experience the driving patterns of another culture, find out how horrible a "taco salad" can be when manufactured in some brand new stripmall "alehouse" three thousand miles away, and discover that the Floridian accents consists mainly of Cuban and second-generation transplanted Brooklynese. Also that there, at least, they understand that Castro has gotten away with his privations in large part because the Cuban people don't get to bear arms. Well, one Cuban transplant and fellow engineer offered that opinion anyway, and it was refreshing to hear an unsolicited and simple truth for once.
Oh, there I go again. Damn these soapboxes anyway. This was a bit more than three minutes! Shame on me.
But the news has a GOP debate wrap-up, and I don't have time to read it, and I wish I did. This is the best part of the campaign: Before the corporate machine tightens the reins, when diverse ideas are bravely put forth, when someone who might actually have ideas has the national ear. But I don't know who that is, because I can't read up on it.
Won't matter. I quit the party and can't vote in the primary. I spent twenty six years trying with my primary vote to pull the Republicans in a sane direction and though they went this way and that, in the end my votes did no good at all. The question then is, repudiate my repudiation and try again, or go Democrat? But I won't go Democrat. Even worse than empowered Republicans growing government and trampling the Constitution are newly-encouraged Democrats turning the current global struggles into a global war on their own President. I dislike Bush, but Reid and Pelosi have cemented my disgust with the post-Clinton Democratic Party. Their swift unraveling of Western attempts to isolate proven war-monger Syria and announcement that victory against America is easily achieved if you kill enough random civilians leaves me unable to accept that history won't treat them with utter contempt. Not now, but certainly after the broad warfare and social disruption their outlook is bound to generate.
Yes, for all our mistakes we've been trying to cap the bottle, while they want to hand it to those who would smash it open.
Oh, there I go again. I need to learn to STFU, don't I? Instead I should talk about how I just spent a few days in South Florida. I am liking my job, by and large. All I saw of Boca Raton was out the windows of a conference room or an airplane. Even so it was neat to smell the air of a different climate, experience the driving patterns of another culture, find out how horrible a "taco salad" can be when manufactured in some brand new stripmall "alehouse" three thousand miles away, and discover that the Floridian accents consists mainly of Cuban and second-generation transplanted Brooklynese. Also that there, at least, they understand that Castro has gotten away with his privations in large part because the Cuban people don't get to bear arms. Well, one Cuban transplant and fellow engineer offered that opinion anyway, and it was refreshing to hear an unsolicited and simple truth for once.
Oh, there I go again. Damn these soapboxes anyway. This was a bit more than three minutes! Shame on me.
