Category Archives: Philosophy

Political Ads

It’s that time again—the airwaves are cluttered with negative political ads. I parodied these a few years ago by claiming that George Washington should not be elected President because:

  • He wasn’t born a United States citizen (because there was no United States when he was born).
  • He had served—as an officer, no less—in a British military unit (during the French and Indian War).
  • He owned slaves.
  • He distilled whiskey (corn could rot in the silos, while whiskey didn’t spoil).
  • He named his home—Mount Vernon—after British Admiral Edward Vernon.

All true, but today, someone would spin them to discourage people from voting for Washington. With negative political ads facts are inconsequential—it’s the spin that counts.

Why do politicians rely so much on negative ads? Negative ads work.

If we think about it, negative ads reflect poorly on politicians.

But what does the success of negative ads say about us?

Confession

I hesitated to bring this up. I’m sure there are multiple government agencies, heavily armed with former special operations personnel, ready to respond with dedication and a show of force.

But I can’t keep it a secret forever.

I don’t like pumpkin spice.

I don’t like pumpkin spice coffee–hot or cold, pumpkin spice candy, pumpkin spice cookies, pumpkin spice pork, or pumpkin spice French fries.

I don’t like pumpkin spice.

Pumpkin pie used to be my favorite, but with such a public orgy of pumpkin spice dominating stores, coffee shops, and television commercials, the thought of any pumpkin flavored product makes me shudder.

And to add insult to injury, I bet most of those do not contain any real pumpkin–just artificial flavors and coloring.

I don’t like that either.

 

Missed Us by That Much!

Hurricane Dorian headed out to sea without to much damage here. There was some flooding and the cities opened up some shelters, but only a few folks went to the shelters. Based on experience, they probably live in areas that routinely flood.

There are two main reasons for regular flooding:

  1. The sea level is rising while the land mass is sinking.
  2. Lots that were once considered unbuildable are now being developed as waterfront.

Unfortunately, this means that some newly constructed homes will not last as long as their mortgages. One house, in such an area, had a “No Wake” sign on the mailbox, which was only partially in jest.

 

 

Damn, Wrong Guy!

I saw a headline that Joe Walsh was thinking of running for president–I got very excited. I figure Joe, the legendary guitarist from the Eagles, the James Gang, and the stairwells of Kent State University was jumping into the race.

Joe, no doubt, would not have represented the Democratic Party or the Republican Party, but the Party Party. No drugs, no alcohol, but just a good time for all. After all, with Ringo as your brother-in-law and the Bach sisters, all you would have to do is show up and say, “Hi!”

Alas, it was not THAT Joe Walsh, but just another politician (sigh).

It could have been awesome. Damn, wrong guy!

The Latest Hot Dope

They say that the marijuana available today is much more potent than back in the sixties. That may be true in more ways than one.

I read that drug smugglers were packing marijuana in with jalapeño peppers. I expect that the hot chili peppers would throw the drug sniffing dogs off the scent, but you have to wonder how badly it would injure those smoking it.

How would you explain to the emergency room doctor the chemical burns to your fingers and respiratory system?

On the other hand, it might be convenient if you didn’t need to find a lighter or matches if it could self ignite.

A Different World

This is an official request to NASA to conduct exploration of a mysterious world that we know exists, but is beyond my comprehension. It is well reported in the media–especially online–so its existence is irrefutable.

The people in this world live unimaginable lives, but someone believes it’s imperative that their activities are reported to everyone. These include:

  • The real estate transactions of multi-million dollar homes
  • The reliance on automobiles that cost more than all the houses on my block
  • Changes in the color of their hair or style of dress
  • Behavior that would result in arrest and deep shame for most people

The media would have us believe that this world exists in the same metaphysical plane as us, but I’m not convinced. In any case, it is bizarre and may represent a clear and present danger to most of us.

I’m not a conspiracy buff, but in this case I believe the media will try to bury this story by attributing it to actors, actresses, singers, financial experts, and politicians. Don’t be fooled!

“Promises, Promises” (wrote Bert Bacharach)

Musings and promises to myself:

  1. I do not (and will not) watch any television program with a title that begins with Real. Not Real Housewives of Dubuque, not Real Sanitation Workers of Santa Monica, etc. None. Zero. Zip.
  2. Likewise, I avoid any internet stories that claim that a celebrity “confirms what we knew all along.” If we knew it all along, why should we succumb to their click bait?
  3. Some of the stories on the Internet have lives of their own and refuse to die. One example is the story about the girl who passed herself off as a rich duchess. Or was it a countess? All I know is that whenever I see THAT SAME OLD PICTURE I shudder. It’s sounds like an addition to Chevy Chase’s old routine. “Generalissimo Francisco Franco is still dead AND the phony countess is still in the news!”
  4. And, unless it’s a story about geology, any use of the word rocks (as in Former supermodel rocks a bikini or Barney rocks a Speedo) it will be ignored.

A Different Coda

As we’re trying to downsize, I’m trying to cull the musical herd. My daughter gets to take the piano once she gets her own place. My son’s clarinet doesn’t take up to much space. However, my guitar collection and the drum set do. I hope to get down to my Taylor 6 string, Greenbriar by Peavey 12 string, Peavy Raptor electric, and of course, my Brian May guitar.

My current guitar amplifier is an oldie but a goodie, a Peavey 112 Bandit Sheffield Transtube, Silver Stripe. By the long name, you might expect it to be big. It is. It is also heavy and loud.

My new Peavey Vypyr VIP1 is smaller, lighter, and has all kinds of effects built in. It’s got a 32 bit floating point computer processor, which is a marketer’s way of saying, “You have to learn how to program it.”

The bottom line, I now have a guitar amp, cell phone, tablet, laptop, etc., ad nauseum ALL of which are smarter than I am.

I miss the days when my biggest challenge was to get the VCR to stop flashing “12:00”.

Suicide

At work, we have a number of annual training requirements, most of which are presented as video training sessions. They are unchanged from year to year. Some training sessions I’ve taken almost 40 times. One of those that we must take year after year is suicide prevention. As important as this issue is, when you go through the same presentation year after year, its importance fades into the background.

But in the annual mandatory training presentation there are a few segments that features Kevin Hines. Kevin is—an interesting guy, but not a role model.

Kevin had planned to kill himself by jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge. However, Kevin promised himself that if anyone–ANYONE–reached out to him in any way, he wouldn’t jump. He walked the bridge for a while, but no one said anything.

Not a damned thing.

He jumped.

He begged God to save him.

He survived.

Kevin’s been in the news lately because one thing that is on his “To Do” list is to get a net installed under the Golden Gate Bridge. That net is soon to be a reality. The mechanical stuff, such as a net, is good, but it’s only part the answer.

Every one of us has a responsibility to others, and we can carry out that responsibility.

The simple question of, “Are you alright?” may make a world of difference.

Sports???

As regular readers know, I am not much of a sports fan. After Chuck Ealey was relegated to the Canadian league (my Northern-North America friends got a great quarterback) I lost almost all interest. Then, when I lived in the Cleveland area and Art Modell moved the Browns to Baltimore, I was pretty much done and over with sports.

However, I must wax poetic.

Professional sports pay people obscene amounts of money for their physical prowess and effort. Most sports take inborn physical abilities, training, and practice, practice, practice.  Being a professional athlete is the physical equivalent of being a Jesuit.

However, I always thought it was a stretch to consider auto racing a sport. To me it’s more technology; you build a vehicle that can do phenomenal things, get inside, then drive fast and turn left {repeat}.

In my opinion, billiards was pushing it and I thought it was beyond the pale when ESPN featured poker, until they advised that the “E” stood for “entertainment.” There explanation was a stretch, but, okay.

However, now that video games–VIDEO GAMES–are not only a “sport” but being proposed as a high school athletic program . . . Wait!

I hereby designate blogging as a professional sport, or will as soon as the city builds me an appropriate blogging stadium, grants me tax free status, and arranges for network coverage.

Let me know when I can pick out my $9 million sports car and my $100 million mansion. In the meantime, if you want something, call my agent.

Attempted Repost

There is a way to share another website’s content, but it’s been so long since I’ve done it, I forgot how. Here’s what caught my attention:

https://wordpress.com/post/diogenestoday.com/186

Random Thoughts

How do you “draw a blank?” Once you draw it, it’s no longer blank.
Can you ever dig half-a-hole? No matter how much or how little you dig, it’s a hole. If you try filling in in, it’s still a hole until it is no longer a hole.
Why are people who explore caves called “spelunkers?”
When did the transition occur in which people now have sex first, and then (possibly) fall in love?
What if everyone in the world were all the same color, relative height, four hair colors (brown, black, blonde, red—grey doesn’t count)? How would people know who to hate?

Love and Hate

I have a love-hate relationship with engineers

While it may not be politically correct to talk about this anymore, in the past, it was projected that 80 percent of engineers had Asperger’s Syndrome. Asperger’s Syndrome is now considered to be on the autism spectrum, so it may be considered a disability. Its symptoms are extreme focus and the inability to reconcile others’ ideas with one’s own; in other words, I’m right and you’re wrong.

On one hand, if I’m driving across a bridge that is both long and a good distance from the water, I want it to have been designed by somebody who put 100 percent of their focus on designing that bridge. I want that person to be so focused that everyone else’s opinion was not a distraction. Their focus—regardless of its source—is a wonderful attribute.

On the other hand, interacting with engineers, either at work or socially can be less satisfying. They are apt to say factually correct, but awkward (for the listener) statements like:
“You sure have aged.”
“How much weight have you gained?

Ya gotta lovem.

And hatem, too.

Wallowing in the News

It seems like the Internet now focuses so much on negativity:

Cardiologists say avoid this food . . . .

Movie Star denies hiding millions in secret Swiss bank accounts . . . .

When did Obama become a Republican?

You get the drift. The other spots on the news websites are filled with rumors about celebrities–who’s dying, who’s cheating, who’s raising kittens–the whole nine yards.

At least I no longer have to sneak a peak at the tabloids in the supermarket.

Tear Them All Down–for Profit

Across the street from my house there used to be woods and open fields. The developers began clearcutting the trees and adding fill to the fields in order to build houses. This is an area subject to flooding; each tree they destroyed transpired 55,000 gallons of water each year and absorbed carbon that otherwise would contribute to global warming (whether you believe in it or not).

There was a small area that was still wooded–probably 50 trees or so–across from my house. As you can see that the trees were pulled up by the roots or pushed over by carbon belching, heavy equipment. I counted at least four machines. The dust blowing toward my house is just an added bonus  and will probably continue for months.

I couldn’t help but flash on The Two Towers, when Saruman commands that the orcs should pull all the trees down.

It’s taken us a while, but we’ve mastered the orcs’ technique.

 

Much Ado About Nothing – How We Describe Our Hometowns

Back in the stone age, when I was young, we described different parts of town with specific words. In northwest Ohio there was downtown, but no uptown. There was the East Side, the West End and South Toledo. North Toledo was described by the various neighborhoods–Polish, German, Lebanese, etc.

That was simple. In August, Mom would take me downtown to buy school clothes, which, by October, by the way, I’d managed to mangle.

Over time, downtown disappeared, replaced by shopping malls—which also meant that the local stores such as Tiedtke’s and Lamson’s also disappeared.

Oh, there was still a downtown, but it was the haunt of lawyers, bankers, and others who were in a different caste from my family. There was the main branch of the public library, but libraries don’t define an area.

Where I live now, there is a city center with the various city offices and courts, but except for the main branch of the library, that’s it. Unless there is a food truck event, there isn’t a restaurant or even a drive-through, fast-food, franchise place in the “downtown” area.

There are (more or less) seven cities in this area: Chesapeake, Hampton, Newport News, Norfolk, Portsmouth, Suffolk, and Virginia Beach (in alphabetical order so as not to offend anyone). The area has had various monikers—Hampton Roads, The Historic Triangle,* Tidewater, Virginia Beach (it’s the tourist attraction, after all), but none of them have ever been adequate. We’re still working on it. However, if there are lakes, rivers, the Chesapeake Bay, beaches, and the Atlantic Ocean, there are more pressing issues than deciding on a metropolitan name.

We divide our area into the Peninsula, which includes Hampton and Newport News (along with Williamsburg, Croaker and Norge), the South Side, with the other cities, and various other areas like the Eastern Shore and the Outer Banks just over the line in North Carolina.

 

*Jamestown—the first permanent English settlement, Williamsburg—an early capital of Virginia and arguably a birthplace of American Independence, and Yorktown—the last major battle of the American Revolution, after which British General Lord Cornwallis’s troops surrendered to George Washington.

Commitment

Have you ever read the Unanimous Declaration of the Thirteen United States of America? Most people don’t recognize that as the actual title of what we call the Declaration of Independence. Written in Philadelphia, approved on 2 July 1776, and published two days later on the fourth of July.

Those who signed the document risked much if they failed. If they were lucky, they would be hanged “until dead.” The practice of hanging, drawing, and quartering was the prescribed punishment for high treason. In this case, the condemned would be hanged, cut down while still (barely) alive, often disemboweled (again, while still alive), then beheaded and their body cut into pieces.

These founding fathers had to work hard to reach common ground since they had agreed that unanimous consent was required so as not to force brother against brother so many vehement arguments led to revisions that the authors vehemently opposed. The issue of slavery was particularly difficult, and striking a phrase prohibiting slavery did, in fact, lead to the war of brother against brother.

While most of the body of the declaration deals with the grievances against King George the third, I believe the most important part is at the end.

And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.

Who among us has that kind of commitment today?

 

Changing Relationships

Wired Magazine has an interesting article this month that talks about how the Internet has changed. When I read it, it was like getting a diagnosis for an unpleasant condition.

I have been somewhat avoiding the Internet because I no longer trust it–and that’s the nicest thing I can say about it. What once was, or at least hoped to be, a forum for exchanging ideas for the betterment of all has become a hate-filled pariah that imposes itself on anyone who will allow it.

Put another way, if the Internet were a neighborhood, I’d move.

Naturally, it makes me less prone to writing. It used to be that I got ideas for blogs on the Internet, but what has become acceptable and routine is not worth reading. Even the news glamorizes the crackpots and mass murderers.

Which came first, the chicken or the egg? Did our attitudes toward civility decline, which led to today’s Internet or did the Internet lead to our loss of civility?

D-Day

D-Day. How soon we forget.

To many people, 75 years ago makes something ancient history, but even so, we can–and we need to–learn.

75 years ago kids just out of high school enlisted or were drafted. Basic training turned them into men in a few months. Then these young men faced overwhelming odds landing against withering fire at places with tactical names like Utah, Omaha, Gold, Juno, and Sword Beaches. Others parachuted or crash-landed in gliders behind enemy lines.

Many would never have the chance to be old men, middle aged, or a fathers, or married. Some died for the cause of freedom, but would never live long enough to vote.

2700 British, 946 Canadians, and 6603 Americans claimed territory in France–two and a half feet wide, 8 feet long, and 6 feet deep. Others were never found.

President John F. Kennedy, in his 1961 inaugural speech challenged us–“Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what you can do for your country.” That generation, now almost gone, did.

The Play’s the Thing (Complete with Music!)

I’ve decided to write a play specifically designed for off-off-Broadway. I wanted a theme everybody could relate to–something familiar yet somewhat of a challenge. Then the muse hit me–I tried to duck, but she still caught me on the chin.

I realized that no matter what you do, a significant portion of your time will be spent in meetings. It may be called a class, a board, a tiger team, a training session, church, basic training, or whatever–it’s still a meeting. Fortunately, Office Space and The Office have already laid the groundwork. I want to take it one step further and write it as a musical. Imagine——

The stage curtains are closed. The house lights dim and the orchestra begins the overture. [For those of you not musically inclined, overtures are a melodic mashup of the music used throughout the production. Today, we call it recycling.]

SCENE 1: The curtains open to show a conference table with chairs all along the upstage side (a concession to the acoustics in off-off-Broadway facilities). A spotlight is focused on a door, stage right. A man in a suit [the Boss] enters with an armload of papers and breaks into the opening number. “It’s My Meeting So I’m in Control” He dances toward the head of the table, leaving a random portion of the papers in front of each chair, reaches the front empty handed, looks at the various stacks of paper, decides one is slightly taller, dances back to that spot, takes the extras from that stack, dances back to the front of the meeting room and crescendos with the final line, a redux of the first line of “I’m in control.” The spotlight disappears, leaving the stage dark.

SCENE 2: The spotlight, collimated very tightly fades up on a man [the Nerd] with a short sleeved white shirt, out-of-style skinny black necktie, pocket protector, and taped glasses immediately begins singing the second number, “Oh, What I’d Do for a Doughnut!” When he finishes, the stage briefly goes black.

SCENE 3: The lights come up illuminating the table but leaves it dark upstage (behind). The conference table now has people sitting in all but the last chair. The Nerd comes through the door, ignores the looks of derision, grabs a powdered sugar doughnut, leaving a trail of white on people’s clothing. When he sits, the white powder mounds like a snow bank in front of him [special effects, but inexpensive].

The Boss bows and with an exaggerated sweeping gesture points toward the unlit back of the stage. A stern women [Stern Woman] in a business suit emerges from the shadows. As she walks toward the head of the table, with a big smile she begins to sing, “Death by PowerPoint.” The last line, a Capella, is “And My Laser Pointer!”

I don’t have room for everything. Suffice to say, the rest of the play leads to the grand finale with the Stern Woman between the Boss and the Nerd performs a dance number on the conference table surrounded by the entire cast dancing together and singing “Meetings Are Better than Work!

Now, if I can just find a patron.