We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
Back to the warm, cheery lodge's dock after a day of duck hunting in Canada. Fire roaring in the fireplace, the bar is open, hors d'oevres hot and waiting for us.
What's for supper? We hope for the beer-batter fried Walleye, fresh from the lake.
The article is at Ricochet. The comments are good.
For young docs these days, it's about paying off $200,000 in loans (not to mention 3-4 years after that as an intern and resident on a pittance), the incredible burdens of paperwork and new regulations, conflicts between wanting to be independent and the security temptations of getting a salary.
The big change in the past 20 years is women becoming 50% of medical school students. When I went to med school, it was around 25%. Many of the women, I have observed, are happy working limited hours, do not mind being salaried, and do not welcome the burdens and risks of private practice, taking full personal responsibility for patients, being on call, etc. They want to have babies, with work as a sideline. It's a big change from the independent cowboy medical practice of the past. Those cowboys were my role models.
Without wanting to sound sexist, I do have to observe that women are more comfortable following the rules than men are.
Little old lady walks into the local bank and informs the teller that she would like to deposit $250,000 in cash, and would like to discuss it with the branch manager.
She goes into the manager's little office to discuss details of her deposit, and he asks how she came upon this windfall. "Gambling," she says.
"You must be good," says he. "I am," she replied. "For example, I'll bet you $25,000 that, tomorrow morning when I come in with the cash in my lawyer's hands, your balls will be square."
"Are you serious? OK, you're on." They shake on it.
Next morning, she arrives in his office with lawyer and bulging briefcase in hand to make the deposit. Manager says "OK, great. Now, what about our little bet? My balls are just the same as they always were."
"Well," she responds, "for $25,000 I need to check for myself." He pulls down his trousers and she checks his male parts carefully while her lawyer begins banging his head on the desk.
"What's the problem?" the manager asks.
"Nothing really," the old lady answers. "It's just that I bet him $100,000. that I could have your balls in my hands in 15 minutes."
5:13 Are any among you suffering? They should pray. Are any cheerful? They should sing songs of praise.
5:14 Are any among you sick? They should call for the elders of the church and have them pray over them, anointing them with oil in the name of the Lord.
5:15 The prayer of faith will save the sick, and the Lord will raise them up; and anyone who has committed sins will be forgiven.
5:16 Therefore confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, so that you may be healed. The prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective.
5:17 Elijah was a human being like us, and he prayed fervently that it might not rain, and for three years and six months it did not rain on the earth.
5:18 Then he prayed again, and the heaven gave rain and the earth yielded its harvest.
5:19 My brothers and sisters, if anyone among you wanders from the truth and is brought back by another,
5:20 you should know that whoever brings back a sinner from wandering will save the sinner's soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins.
That means it's time to pick up the dekes and head the boat a mile or two down the lake back to ye olde lodge. Cocktail Hour. If the outboard won't start, we have oars. Done that, too, but it's only half-fun.
The more you do, the more people you meet, and the more places you go, the more luck you get. Talked to somebody last week who got a new job by just chatting with a stranger in a barbecue joint take-out line.
What sort of job? Financial software development. Salary? Over $200,000.
A history of bankruptcy puts a nice ding on a person's credit rating and future employability. Even so, sometimes it's the only way to get a second chance in life if one has been highly irresponsibe and, hopefully, learned from it. Zero Hedge had this last Spring: Student Loan Debt Slaves In Perpetuity - A True Story Of "Bankruptcy Hell".
Naturally, cancelling out loans via bankruptcy will make lenders more cautious about lending to any student. But who is the biggest lender? Us, the government. Who is the biggest beneficiary? College administrations. Do you hear gripes about college administrator salaries? Nope, but college presidents make about the same as greedy CEOs.
Among other sun perennials I plan to squeeze into my new borders are a Shasta Daisy variety, one that grows 2' max instead of the tall ones.
Nowadays, they come in varying heights. Who built the original Shasta Daisy? The great Luther Burbank, of course. The guy was a master and pioneer of genetic engineering for commercial purposes. His russet potato is still the biggest seller, especially for French Fries.
BTW, you can google Bluestone Perennials for a wide selection of well-priced, fall-shipping plants. They are small, but if you put them in now they will grow robustly in the Spring and triple their size in a few weeks.
Here, where the world is quiet; Here, where all trouble seems Dead winds' and spent waves' riot In doubtful dreams of dreams; I watch the green field growing For reaping folk and sowing, For harvest-time and mowing, A sleepy world of streams.
I am tired of tears and laughter, And men that laugh and weep; Of what may come hereafter For men that sow to reap: I am weary of days and hours, Blown buds of barren flowers, Desires and dreams and powers And everything but sleep.
Here life has death for neighbour, And far from eye or ear Wan waves and wet winds labour, Weak ships and spirits steer; They drive adrift, and whither They wot not who make thither; But no such winds blow hither, And no such things grow here.
No growth of moor or coppice, No heather-flower or vine, But bloomless buds of poppies, Green grapes of Proserpine, Pale beds of blowing rushes Where no leaf blooms or blushes Save this whereout she crushes For dead men deadly wine.
Pale, without name or number, In fruitless fields of corn, They bow themselves and slumber All night till light is born; And like a soul belated, In hell and heaven unmated, By cloud and mist abated Comes out of darkness morn.
Though one were strong as seven, He too with death shall dwell, Nor wake with wings in heaven, Nor weep for pains in hell; Though one were fair as roses, His beauty clouds and closes; And well though love reposes, In the end it is not well.
Pale, beyond porch and portal, Crowned with calm leaves, she stands Who gathers all things mortal With cold immortal hands; Her languid lips are sweeter Than love's who fears to greet her To men that mix and meet her From many times and lands.
She waits for each and other, She waits for all men born; Forgets the earth her mother, The life of fruits and corn; And spring and seed and swallow Take wing for her and follow Where summer song rings hollow And flowers are put to scorn.
There go the loves that wither, The old loves with wearier wings; And all dead years draw thither, And all disastrous things; Dead dreams of days forsaken, Blind buds that snows have shaken, Wild leaves that winds have taken, Red strays of ruined springs.
We are not sure of sorrow, And joy was never sure; To-day will die to-morrow; Time stoops to no man's lure; And love, grown faint and fretful, With lips but half regretful Sighs, and with eyes forgetful Weeps that no loves endure.
From too much love of living, From hope and fear set free, We thank with brief thanksgiving Whatever gods may be That no life lives for ever; That dead men rise up never; That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea.
Then star nor sun shall waken, Nor any change of light: Nor sound of waters shaken, Nor any sound or sight: Nor wintry leaves nor vernal, Nor days nor things diurnal; Only the sleep eternal In an eternal night.
As I read it, the poem is written from the point of view of an ancient Roman or Greek. Proserpine, the Roman version of Persephone who was the wife of Hades, had a garden of poppies - the flower of care-free sleep and blissful forgetfulness. Swinburne was a character, just one more of those brilliant, wealthy drunken Brit writers and critics who liked to ride horses and died of self-inflicted wounds.
So much of political debates for the past 150 years have been about whether central control by supposed experts is preferable to private efforts to be good caretakers of their resources.
Regular readers know that we tend to have a deep distrust of government, central planning, and centralized power and believe that we are line with the Founders in that regard.
We have regularly posted about The Tragedy of the Commons here. The moral of the tragedy of the commons extends far beyond cow pastures, vast herds of bison, and marine resources. (In fact, it extends to government itself which tends to view the populace as an inexhaustable resource for its own purposes.)
"A man should learn to detect and watch that gleam of light which flashes across his mind from within, more than the lustre of the firmament of bards and sages. Yet he dismisses without notice his thought, because it is his. In every work of genius we recognize our own rejected thoughts: they come back to us with a certain alienated majesty."
Ralph Waldo Emerson on Originality. Speak for yourself, Ralph: my rejected genius eludes me.
We are re-building some perennial and shrub beds this fall. No garden is ever finished; most are usually in transformation. Having lost a large old Sugar Maple a few years ago, a shade border has become a full-sun border.
That's an opportunity, but it takes a lot of wheelbarrow and shovel work to prepare the beds (adding manure, peat moss, etc) and to get it planted before a frost - and I have a busy life. Designing a border is the fun part, and Mrs. BD has kindly told me that "It's your turn" to do it. Right now is the time to get the perennials in the ground, and shrubs and perennials planted or transplanted. Real gardeners try to plant in the fall, not in the Spring.
Most perennials can be bought online now for immediate delivery, while the local garden shop may have nothing but mums, asters, and pumpkins.
Part of the fun of design is ensuring early Spring through fall blooms, contrasting textures and heights, harmonious colors in the various bloom seasons, some degree of repetition, some plants which provide structure to the plan, something for winter interest, etc. It's a challenge, even if you are aiming for an informal "cottage garden." It's like painting.
Perhaps later I will list the plants I am putting in, but today just one of them: the late summer and fall-blooming Anemones (my pic from a NYBG border last week).
I had to look up "paraprosdokian". Here is the definition: "Figure of speech in which the latter part of a sentence or phrase is surprising or unexpected; frequently used in a humorous situation." "Where there's a will, I want to be in it," is a type of paraprosdokian.
1. Do not argue with an idiot. He will drag you down to his level and beat you with experience. 2. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. But it's still on my list. 3. Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak. 4. If I agreed with you, we'd both be wrong. 5. We never really grow up, we only learn how to act in public. 6. War does not determine who is right - only who is left. 7. Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad. 8. Evening news is where they begin with 'Good Evening,' and then proceed to tell you why it isn't. 9. To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism. To steal from many is research. 10. A bus station is where a bus stops. A train station is where a train stops. On my desk, I have a work station. 11. I thought I wanted a career. Turns out I just wanted paychecks. 12. Whenever I fill out an application, in the part that says, 'In case of emergency, notify:' I put 'DOCTOR.' 13. I didn't say it was your fault, I said I was blaming you. 14. Women will never be equal to men until they can walk down the street with a bald head and a beer gut, and still think they are sexy. 15. Behind every successful man is his woman. Behind the fall of a successful man is usually another woman. 16. A clear conscience is the sign of a fuzzy memory. 17. I asked God for a bike, but I know God doesn't work that way. So I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness. 18. You do not need a parachute to skydive. You only need a parachute to skydive twice. 19. Money can't buy happiness, but it sure makes misery easier to live with. 20. There's a fine line between cuddling and holding someone down so they can't get away. 21. I used to be indecisive. Now I'm not so sure. 22. You're never too old to learn something stupid. 23. To be sure of hitting the target, shoot first and call whatever you hit the target. 24. Nostalgia isn't what it used to be. 25. Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine. 26. Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car. 27. A diplomat is someone who tells you to go to hell in such a way that you look forward to the trip. 28. Hospitality is making your guests feel at home even when you wish they were. 29. I always take life with a grain of salt. Plus a slice of lime, and a shot of tequila.
Readers know that I have long rejected the notion of a college-level Liberal Arts-focused education as an economic investment. However, I have praised it as a potentially life-enhancing guided exploration more deeply into our culture and into current knowledge than secondary school can do (although good private schools can do it). "Cultivation of the mind" and all that.
In other words, do I do not think of it as utilitarian. (Colleges were designed for scholars and clery - for the cognitive and/ or financially elite.) I learned much in high school and in college which have never provided me with a penny of profit but which I believe have enhanced my life in countless ways: Geology, Statistics, Intro Music History, Ancient Greek History, Russian Lit, etc.
However, when I went to college the ways of learning these things outside college were not as accessible as they are today. The self-informed scholars of the past had to spend hours in libraries, after work, just to try to figure out where to start. Today, you can get the best Music History course in the world from the Teaching Company for $200. and enjoy it at leisure - with no exams.
So we return to my recurrent question: Is Liberal Arts college about job-preparation, for networking, is it a meaningless credential, is it a way to delay adulthood, or is it a guided exploration into our culture and knowledge for the deeply curious and scholarly with high IQ?
In Obama's economy, the reality hits. Plumbers making $70-150/hr make much more money than most recent college grads and lead more independent and entrepreneurial careers. In fact, more than many recently-graduated professionals.
The great Renaissance theologian, zealot, and political reformer, was tortured, hanged, and burned in the Piazza della Signoria in Florence in 1498. The spot where that happened is well-marked in the Piazza.
Botticelli was just one of his famous followers, and supposedly burned some of his own paintings in the Bonfires of the Vanities.
Romney needs to learn that, when confronted by a media horde, you don’t have to answer any of their questions. You say what you want to communicate; the media serves your purpose just by showing up. Believe me, should the press corps start to sense that Romney might win this thing, the tone of their questions is going to change in a hurry, as the courtiers begin jockeying for position and currying favor with a new administration. Running from them, in other words, will not cut it — turning and facing them will.
I remember having had this waiting feeling during the Dole and the McCain campaigns. This game requires cojones.
Big Harvest Moon last night and tonight
Among other sun perennials I plan to squeeze into my new borders are a Shasta Daisy variety, one that grows 2' max instead of the tall ones. 
Here, where the world is quiet;
So much of political debates for the past 150 years have been about whether central control by supposed experts is preferable to private efforts to be good caretakers of their resources. 
Readers know that I have long rejected the notion of a college-level Liberal Arts-focused education as an economic investment. However, I have praised it as a potentially life-enhancing guided exploration more deeply into our culture and into current knowledge than secondary school can do (although good private schools can do it). "Cultivation of the mind" and all that.
The great Renaissance theologian, zealot, and political reformer, was tortured, hanged, and burned in the Piazza della Signoria in Florence in 1498. The spot where that happened is well-marked in the Piazza.