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.
I recently stumbled on this story. It's very old, and it seems to be well known in Math and Engineering circles. I shared it with my team to give them some idea how to work together and be open to unusual and creative ideas.
Long ago, there was a wealthy man who had 3 sons. Among his most prized posessions were 17 camels. The man was renowned as being very shrewd. In his will, he determined that his oldest son should get 1/2 of his estate(whatever he owned at the time of death), while his second born son should inherit 1/3 of his estate. His youngest son, being the yougest should inherit 1/9 of his estate.
After the father died, the three brothers were quite happy to inherit that wealth. They loved and respected their father very much so they were quite eager to satisfy the will of their father exactly. However, they did not like the idea of killing some of the camels in order to honor the last will of their father:
1/2 of 17 camels makes 8 and 1/2 of a camel figured the oldest brother, 1/3 of 17 camels makes 5 and 2/3 of a camel calculated the second brother, 1/9 of 17 camels makes only 1 and 8/9 camels thought the youngest brother.
but it still reminded me of the song. In five months, both parents dead and final child moved out to NYC this week. That's a big life change for me and the Mrs., but we still have the dog. All 3 kids living and/or working in NYC now. It's a good thing for the youth to do: If you can make it there, you can make it anywhere. They don't have to stay there forever.
What makes it even better is that they get together there sometimes, and sort of network socially. They all have lots of friends and associates from prep school, college, and work. Interesting, attractive, proper, and ambitious kids, and they all want to be in NY where the action is. Meet people, make friends, build a life. Fun, plus social capital. They all have nothing at all to complain about except income, and when you're young in Manhattan, you don't really care. When I lived there, I had no clue that I was a pauper. Life was fun and fascinating, I could afford a beer, and I even met the future Mrs. BD there. Man, that was a random meet but it clicked.
To cheer me up and to distract me from all of the family death and all of the memory tape loops that keep running through my mind with no "pause" button that I can find, Mrs. BD is treating me to a little trip later this summer. Carpe diem in the face of death.
She thinks physical effort will help me feel better. Usually works for me. I love physical effort as long as it doesn't require brains. It's a birthday present for me too, I guess. Or for both of us. She is a world-class trip-planner. It's hiking in the Dolomites above Lake Garda, then a few days banging around the Veneto (with no Venice, thankfully. I hate that tourist trap. We fly into Milan and then drive right out in a rental sports car. I don't care for Milan either.). I intend to rent a little speedboat on Lake Garda and to try to act Italian. In the upper Veneto, some speak German, some speak only Ladin, some speak Italian in public but Ladin with family.
For her birthday, what shall I offer the gal who has everything she needs (except perfect financial security - still waiting for Powerball - however, her material wants and expectations have always been minimal but her cultural, relational, and spiritual desires are considerable. And I have lotsa life insurance...)? Ah, I know just the thing. Tix for Rigoletto at the Arena di Verona.
She can hum a lot of it and recite the details of the tale, but has never seen it live.
Got 'em. Don't tell.
We took the pup for a long off-leash walk two Saturday mornings ago. We ran into a 92 year-old Norwegian neighbor and friend on his daily morning hike. He has climbed the Matterhorn, Mount Blanc, some of the Himalayas. We asked him about the Dolomites. He knew every town, every mountain. Had climbed the Five Fingers. "It's soft stone, Dolomite. Easy to climb." Well, I'll hike all day but I don't climb mountains. Heights have a bad effect on me.
Then, as we head back to the HQ, a car pulls over. A relatively new neighbor and new friend just stopping to say hi. Our dogs are friends too. He's on the way to the airport. We ask where they are going. "Dolomites. Hiking, some rock climbing. Then a couple of days on Lake Garda. We'll have supper and fill you in when we get back."
Obama is scared of Putin and really doesn´t know how to react or bargain with him. He foolishly thought that divulging our nuclear warheads would buy his love, when all he did was scoff at his weakness.
It's 11 miles up this "road" to our family camp of several generations. A short summer there in the Sierra, inaccessible for most of the year due to snowfall.
Found a large set of these cups, with saucers, bowls, etc. in my parents' storage room. I know they were via my great-grandmother in Connecticut. I have no idea what they are made of, or by whom.
Any ideas? Appearance is of gold or gold plate, but what do I know?
"Bob Dylan ran through the 18th century English folk song "Pretty Saro" six consecutive times during the Self Portrait sessions in March 1970, but none of those versions made the final cut for the album and the song remained in Columbia's vault for the past 43 years."
1870 barn behind a young Sequoia Gigantea planted in the 1920s.
The barn served a spa hotel where people came for the supposedly curative properties of the natural cold soda water springs on the property, but when the hotel burned to the ground in 1898, the property passed into private hands.
75° yesterday dropping to 44° at night. 70 now at 10:00.
A new t-shirt easily found up in Yankeeland. I told my wife this is what I want for my birthday, so we got me one. It's all I want for my birthday. I'll wear it in Italy, with my straw Stetson, red shorts, and white sneakers, and nobody will dare bother me. Not even the Somali scum.
$12.95. She got off easy, except for the cost of the Italy trip.
While the Anthropogenic Global Warming and Natural Global Warming camps have been filling the airwaves with their usual bickering lately, and certainly the Anthropogenic Chlorofluorocarbonic Warming contingent is trying to stay in the news, the Natural Global Cooling people have been left out — if you'll pardon the expression — in the cold.
In case you're new to the global climate debate and haven't heard of the dangers of NGC, you'd better sit your butt right down and get caught up to date.
And what those scoffing 'deniers' out there are missing is that we're already fighting the battle on the northern front as the ice sheet moves slowly and inexorably southward. This was in Flagville, North Dakota, just last week:
"It sounds like a train!"
What she's hearing is the low-frequency crackling vibrations as the top 6" of soil turns to permafrost for the next 10,000 years.
This was also fairly telling at the 5:16 mark:
"It's piling up, because the house is stopping it from moving."
(10 seconds later)
"Oh, my God, their door's in! It just busted through a door over here, all the way through — the door's caving! Look at that, it's going right through their goddamned house!"
Such is the raw, destructive power of Natural Global Cooling.
Well, as if we needed any further proof after that video, here's the latest on the NGC front:
Normally the high Arctic has about 90 days above freezing. This year there was less than half that.
The numbers don't lie, folks. Disregard the facts at your peril.
This also might be why I'm living in the Florida Keys; Florida being projected to be the last state to have unfrozen summers by 2160. It has something to do with the geography but southern California and southern Texas are scheduled to go decades before that. The water barrier between the Keys and the mainland is also supposed to slow it down, so we've got a number of factors going for us down here.
I am certain that this sign was not there when Thoreau hiked the beautiful beach from Chatham to P'town. BTW, the alcohol rule is ignored and unenforced. There is plenty of brew in those beach coolers.
Some time ago, I was working at a job that required 'diversity' in hiring practices. It was about 15 or so years, before this became a standard in most corporate hiring practices. I'm still trying to figure out what it means, particularly because I was always taught to hire the best person for the job. I'm not saying diversity is bad. In fact, I'm all for it. But there is no standard gauge for diversity and as a goal it's a moving target. Would 50% female and 20% black be sufficiently diverse? Do we need to have the same percentages of each group as exist in the US population? Or would some close approximation suffice? At what number of employees does diversity become an imperative? I'm not sure we can realistically set numbers for these kinds of things.
At my company, VP level and above employees actually had bonuses based on 'improving the diversity of their departments.' There was no specific guideline provided, the VPs were left to figure it out for themselves. Many got significantly reduced bonuses, which led to the suspicion that it was a corporate method of reducing payouts. I happen to think that was the case.
But the corporation took this all very seriously and each year we were given a 'diversity update,' during which we were showed charts and graphs of women and minorities as a percentage of the company's staff and the executive suite.
I didn't care much for it. I am not opposed to diversity, but as I said, I always hired the best person for the job. I never think in terms of women, Asian, Black, Indian, etc. Suddenly I was being told what the company required in this regard when I was doing my interviews. I will never forget the laugh of one VP, when I recommended a young man for a position, as he said "Unless he's a black woman, the interview will not be worth his time." Fair enough, but I sent him in for the interview anyway and he was not hired, despite having stellar credentials and strengths in all the key areas the company was seeking to improve.
A couple of people asked in my recent barrage of 'NCIS' posts how to port the videos to their TV, and since Google has just broken new ground in the area, I thought I'd slap together an overview.
There are a number of factors in play; price, difficulty/ease of setup, difficulty/ease of use, software features, extra goodies like a remote, and location of the computer & TV.
Probably the main factor is the location of the two units. The flat-out easiest routine is to just run video and audio cables directly to the TV or controller box, with the only inconvenience being that you'd have to dash back to the computer to start, end or pause a clip. But if you're just playing one long movie, no big deal.
Despite the way you're sitting there on the edge of your seat in vibrant anticipation of what's coming next, it's probably best we dip below the fold for the remainder. There are some technical terms coming up and we wouldn't want to unsettle the children.
Eugenics, I suspect, was in reality a symptom of a growing impatience of intellectuals with the intractability of the human condition, with the fact that that Man was irredeemably imperfect. And this impatience grew because of a decline in the religious understanding of life (it was no coincidence that Chesterton, who saw so easily through the pretensions of eugenics, should have been firmly Christian, while none of his opponents was). In the 1920s sterilization of the unfit would do for humanity what psychopharmacology is now supposed to do: render it happy because perfect. No one with an understanding of Original Sin could believe such a thing – even if Original Sin is not based upon an actual historical truth.
Whatever you decide you want your relationship with sex to be about, there are opportunities out there. Whether you want to have sex or you don’t, you’re looking for love or a one-night stand, you’re gay or straight or somewhere in between, it’s all possible. And whatever happens remember to be safe, get consent, and watch out for your friends.
Well, OK. What seems odd to me is the college administration selling this. Is selling sexual experimentation part of their job?
Regarding consent, I'd suggest recording it on video on your iPhone, ladies. Make sure the fellow gives you sober consent for you to enjoy his body.
Sitting down? Already eaten a little something today? I want to make sure you've got the stomach to witness what you might later describe as the most horrific display of racism you've ever seen:
Like you, I was shocked into silence. I opened my mouth to respond to the horror I'd just witnessed, yet no words sprang forth.
Likewise, I'm sure you sat there, jaw agape, thinking, Huh? WTF? I don' get it!!"
A CNBC reporter is under fire for using the phrase "chink in the armor" during a Tuesday discussion of Wendi Deng's pending divorce from News Corp and 21st Century Fox CEO Rupert Murdoch.
The comments by CNBC's Robert Frank drew a critical response from the Asian American Journalists Association, which condemned the statements as "offensive" and "inappropriate."
You'll notice they used the clumsy word 'inappropriate' instead of the time-honored 'insensitive', but they're new to this. They'll learn quickly enough.
As we noted a few days ago in Team Asia Drops The Ball, these are exciting times for Asians worldwide as they soar to new heights breaking new ground in uncharted waters.
As both the Asiatic Anti-Defamation League and the National Association for the Advancement of Yellow-Colored People swing into full gear, there'll be nothing but lucrative lawsuit settlements and the admiration of their peers — that is, the other victim groups — in the future for these groundbreaking pioneers using this previously untapped resource.
And, as 200 years of suppressed, rabid anti-Asianism comes boiling to the surface, you'd certainly expect to see the occasional "racist song!" headline, like we do now when some songwriter inadvertently uses the term "niggardly" or "Jew's harp".
But the most racist song in history? That's how far these up-and-comers have already advanced.
The crap-tastic, Sugar Ray–esque L.A. band really performs a song, "Asian Girlz," with the following lyrics: Korean barbecue / Bitch I love you / I love your creamy yellow thighs / Ooh your slanted eyes.
We still think it's some kind of a joke. A very sick and tasteless joke.
This is, of course, what's so wrong with today's Political Correctness. Evenmentioning the attributes of a people puts the stamp of Racist across one's forehead.
Having learned this valuable lesson, I dashed back to the first site and wrote:
So, let me see if I've got this straight.
If I write a song about an English girl and refer to her "creamy white thighs" and "beautiful blue eyes", it's quite possibly the most racist song ever written.
If I write a song about a black girl and refer to her "creamy dark thighs" and "deep brown eyes", it's quite possibly the most racist song ever written.
Likewise, if I write a song about an Asian girl and refer to her "creamy yellow thighs" and "exotic slanted eyes", then that, too, is quite possibly the most racist song ever written.
So we welcome our Asian brothers and sisters to the exciting, lucrative world of grievance and victimization, and wish them eminent success as they brave the waters of this new and bountiful course as they seize control of their shared destiny with other worldwide victims in bringing to light the New World Order where no one will ever feel offended again.