Thursday, August 19. 2010
 I have a friend who is a bit of a watch collecter and amateur expert. He showed me the Vacheron Constantin watch he was wearing the other day.
It's the oldest surviving watch company in the world. Est. 1755. They make unostentatious fine watches, or "timepieces" as watch snobs term them. You have to wind them every morning which, if I understand it right, all very fine watches require.
I am a Timex guy - a watch I wear routinely needs to take plenty of abuse and needs to be disposable - but I have a couple of somewhat fancier watches which I rarely use. Consumption is not one of my hobbies (I don't own a lot, but I have enough of everything), but I can appreciate fine hand-made things.
My friend tells me that Obama wears a flashy and expensive IWC, assembled from innards made by other companies. "Typical Obama," said he.
Photo is a Vacheron Constantin Jubilee.
Wednesday, August 18. 2010
 What's the origin of "the real McCoy"?
There are many theories - "folk etymologies," but this seems most likely:
It is a corruption of the Scots "The real MacKay", first recorded in 1856 as: "A drappie o’ the real MacKay," and this is widely accepted as the origin.
MacKay (and the Irish McCoy and Magee) are all basically the same name.
My urbanologist friend tells me that we can thank the gays of NYC for being frequent pioneers of gentrification. He says they have plenty of spare cash and like to spend it, they like interesting restaurants, and they like to make things look pleasant.
A generation ago, the gays moved into the West Village. Recently, moving into Chelsea, which was once a neighborhood which many conflated with Hell's Kitchen. Today, it is known as a semi-gay neighborhood (nothing in your face, though), but with plenty of young families with kids (strollers and moms everywhere), and lots of young straight professionals too (including a BD pupette, which is why I have become so familiar with the area. She is in a new Chelsea high-rise, with doorman, a business center, a gym and a cool roof-top garden overlooking the Hudson for parties - all you have to do is sign up for the roof-top).
Chelsea is full of old brownstones, and peppered with new high-rises. It's a short walk to Chelsea Piers, the Intrepid Museum, and the 12-mile Westside Greenway (for biking, running, and hiking) which runs along the Hudson River from the Staten Island Ferry to the George Washington Bridge. Now there is the High Line "park" too, which will run all the way to the Meat Packing District.
(The Upper West Side, where I dwelled for a while, has come a long way too in the baby stroller department, but it never quite needed gentrification. It was always a mixed area with all of its grand pre-war buildings and brownstones. Its SROs are gone now, though, along with the street crime.)
One could spend a lifetime studying the changing neighborhoods of NYC. Curtis Sliwa knows it all.
Brownstones like these in Chelsea now go for 2-4 million:
From a review of Roger Scruton's new book, The Uses of Pessimism, And the Danger of False Hope:
Scruton identifies seven fallacies that he sees as underwriting false hope. Put briefly, these translate into a tendency to always look on the bright side, a belief that freedom is hampered by law, an unwillingness to countenance refutation, a belief that failure in one human quarter is directly connected to success in another, an inclination to impose solutions rather than letting them evolve over time, the idea that human history has an endpoint, and the tendency to assume agreeable concepts such as liberty and equality are mutually reinforcing.
In the final chapters, Scruton suggests these inclinations may be ineradicable, having evolved in response to particular dangers in hunter-gatherer societies.
 This one is obviously for the gals only, since guys quit carrying handbags when pockets were invented.
Only parts of the female body are more private to them than their bags and pocketbooks.
What do you gals have in yours?
Please tell us in the comments...and, if a handgun, make and model please.
Since we have our signs up, we do not forgive your trespasses. Plus we have the fully operational services of the He Marks The Sparrow's Fall Security System in place at the farm.
Tuesday, August 17. 2010
The old saw about Eskimos having 40 words for different kinds of snow is an urban myth, but it is true that English is impoverished in its language for attachments.
In Psychoanalysis, we talk about "attachments" to try to keep it simple and clear. Then we add an adjective to specify.
I recently got on this topic in a consultation with a fellow who was torn up and confused about his love for his wife of 38 years and his exciting relationship with a woman at work.
"Cupid is mischievous," said I, "and he never rests. He especially loves to target guys, but making trouble, creating restlessness, and making even grown people go crazy is his game." I said "Love and desire are not zero-sum games, and, besides there are many kinds of love which coexist all the time."
I explained to him the various forms of love for which the ancient Greeks had useful names, but wiki does a better job with it:
Greek distinguishes several different senses in which the word "love" is used. For example, Ancient Greek has the words philia, eros, agape, storge, and xenia. However, with Greek (as with many other languages), it has been historically difficult to separate the meanings of these words totally. At the same time, the Ancient Greek text of the Bible has examples of the verb agapo having the same meaning as phileo.
Agape (????? agáp?) means love in modern-day Greek. The term s'agapo means I love you in Greek. The word agapo is the verb I love. It generally refers to a "pure," ideal type of love, rather than the physical attraction suggested by eros. However, there are some examples of agape used to mean the same as eros. It has also been translated as "love of the soul."
Eros (???? ér?s) (from the Greek deity Eros) is passionate love, with sensual desire and longing. The Greek word erota means in love. Plato refined his own definition. Although eros is initially felt for a person, with contemplation it becomes an appreciation of the beauty within that person, or even becomes appreciation of beauty itself. Eros helps the soul recall knowledge of beauty and contributes to an understanding of spiritual truth. Lovers and philosophers are all inspired to seek truth by eros. Some translations list it as "love of the body."
Philia (????? philía), a dispassionate virtuous love, was a concept developed by Aristotle. It includes loyalty to friends, family, and community, and requires virtue, equality, and familiarity. Philia is motivated by practical reasons; one or both of the parties benefit from the relationship. It can also mean "love of the mind."
Storge (?????? storg?) is natural affection, like that felt by parents for offspring.
Xenia (????? xenía), hospitality, was an extremely important practice in Ancient Greece. It was an almost ritualized friendship formed between a host and his guest, who could previously have been strangers. The host fed and provided quarters for the guest, who was expected to repay only with gratitude. The importance of this can be seen throughout Greek mythology—in particular, Homer's Iliad and Odyssey.
(There was also this thing called Platonic Love, a notion which entailed the idea of a sublimation of ordinary Eros to a love of the divine and the sublime.)
The fellow concluded that he could keep some of his philia and storge for his wife, but that he needed more eros before he got older. He thanked me profusely for the conversation, overpaid his bill (doubled it), and I never saw him again.
My work is mostly never so quick and easy.
Image is Caravaggio's Cupid.
Toddlers commonly swing their sippy cups in a motion resembling swinging a beer stein. So, I thought, it would be a fun and lucrative invention to market a baby beer stein sippy cup.
The mothers I talked to didn't think it near as much fun as did the fathers, and we all know who rules the high chair. The closest photo I could find of my idea was this one, for seniors. The one I had in mind would have been fancier.
As usual, mothers had it correct, if only because the joke might have been taken more seriously. This mother in Florida learned that lesson, the hard way, due to posting a photo on her facebook of her baby with a bong. The mother was arrested for possession of drug paraphernalia, not for child abuse.
In any event, if you want my invention, you're welcome to it.
In the final analysis, people's ignorance about electrical usage is one of the great tragedies of our time.
That is, if you consider broken homes a 'tragedy'.
Mom and Dad and the two kids go out for hamburgers. They have a great time; as fun a time as any family could wish to have.
They wheel into the driveway, Dad sees that Jimmy left his bedroom light on and explodes. "I've told you a thousand times! That's it! I've had it!"
A horrible fight ensues, with the mother caught in the middle, trying to protect her son from the father's wrath, yet agreeing that the son's extravagant waste of the family's money demands severe punishment.
The rest of the evening is spent with the son sulking, the father in an angry mood, and the mother on the edge of tears. Last night it was her turn because she left the dining room light on when they went across the street to visit with the neighbors for an hour.
After the one thousandth time, the father has had enough and decides to leave these money-wasting losers. Or, tiring of his rage, she does. Or little Jimmy runs away when he's 16 and is found dead from a heroin overdose two months later in New York City.
Just another American family tragedy.
Happens all the time.
The light little Jimmy left on is a 60-watt desk lamp.
Watts means "per hour", so that means Jimmy's light consumes 60 watts of energy in one hour. The family was gone for two hours, so little Jimmy's despicable thoughtlessness wasted 120 watts.
A "kilowatt" is how electricity is measured and paid for. A kilowatt is 1,000 watts. Therefore, to get kilowatts, you divide the watts by 1,000. So, the 120 watts that little Jimmy so blatantly wasted is .12 kilowatt.
One kilowatt generally costs about ten cents.
At ten cents per kilowatt, that's $.012 that little Jimmy wasted that dark and fateful night. The last night, it turned out, that the family was to ever eat a happy meal together.
$.012 is just over one penny.
Continue reading "Electrical Usage: A tragedy of ignorance"
Monday, August 16. 2010
While on its surface the late Michael Crichton's book State of Fear was a damning exposé of the global warming hoax, the underlying message was how thrilled the news agencies are with the thought of dangling this delicious fear over our heads. The more you fear the devastation global warming will bring, the more you'll go back to their news sites for further information. And, presumably, while you're there, click on an ad banner and buy something. Unquestionably, the two biggest pushers over recent years have been Fox News and ABC News.
Say, speaking of terrible fears, how 'bout that horrible Swine Flu Pandemic? Pretty much wiped out entire continents with that baby, eh? But, thankfully, those days of worry and "Am I next?" are behind us:
August 11: WHO Declares End to Swine Flu Pandemic
Remember that day, folks. August 11th, a day that will live in history as the day we were finally freed from the shackles of pandemic fear. We're free! Free!
Scientists Find New Superbug Spreading From India
A new superbug could spread around the world after reaching Britain from India - in part because of medical tourism - and scientists say there are almost no drugs to treat it. — Fox News, August 11
Identified Gene May Bring on New Superbug
British researchers reported that the new gene, called NDM-1, can be easily be transferred into common bacteria such as E. Coli. The gene alters bacteria, making them resistant to nearly all known antibiotics. — ABC News, August 11
Well, it was nice while it lasted.
Sunday, August 15. 2010
 A series of essays on modern motherhood at Boston Review, subtitled Stay-at-home mothering is bad for mothers, their kids, and women’s equality.
I read no article there about Apple Pie, but I may have missed it. The academic lingo is tough at first, but you can get the hang of it. Something called "Care Theory," which I think, in plain English, means not wanting to be a mom.
One of the essays is Time for Public Childcare. Surely that must be so moms are free - I mean liberated - from their annoying and demanding brats so they can golf and play tennis and be CEOs and have lunchtime affairs with the tennis pro.
A re-post from a couple of years ago:
Across the pond, Mediocracy is often thinking about the sorts of things that we puzzle over. In this case, the tendency of people to expect governments to perfect the world. One quote from his piece on "Freedom To" vs. "Approval Of":
Another point of confusion for some libertarians, as for most others with enthusiastic views about the right way to run the world, is the false dichotomy between 'everything is fine' and 'collective action is required'. It is in fact possible to hold a third position, namely that:
(a) the world is imperfect
(b) a legal framework which upholds private agreements is a good thing, because it helps to exploit the benefits of exchange (this principle is usually abbreviated into 'free markets')
(c) specific market failures may require collective action (defence is definitely one; education and medicine definitely aren't; other putative market failures are a matter for debate)
(d) apart from providing a safety net, trying to address any other imperfection by means of government action is to be avoided, if for no other reason than that it invariably involves some form of coercion.
There is a tremendous psychological pressure in contemporary society to jump from 'something less than ideal is happening' to 'the state must intervene'. In fact, it is more than a pressure, it has become an unconscious automatic connection.
Well, not an automatic connection for me. Despite all of the accumulated evidence to the contrary, many insist on that "hope" the hope that government can and will fix "it." And politicians are more than happy to exploit that, because accumulating power tends to be their "unconscious automatic connection."
I heard it yesterday from somebody at lunch: "Bush doesn't care that we're in a recession." I noted (to myself) that this nice Liberal lady was assuming 1. that how much Bush emotes matters and 2. that a President could control international markets if he only chose to do do. I elected to move on to other subjects.
Saturday, August 14. 2010
We posted this long ago, but Tiger reminded me of it. No man-made machine is like this:
Friday, August 13. 2010
"Are you a Ranger or a Hobbit?"
"I think I offended a group of very fine, upstanding law students." A tough talk, quite entertaining.
Of course, nobody expects you to take a job in which the demands do not meet your wishes. That's just called "a bad fit." When people complain about legal work hours, they should consider doctors' hours, Wall St. hours, the hours of an infantryman in Afghanistan, or the hours of an entrepreneur, by way of comparison. One quote from the piece:
Nothing world-changing has happened within the limited confines of the nine-to-five work week. Nobody can wake up in the morning and say, “I’m dedicating myself and my family to my fellow man, but only so long as I keep exactly the kind of balance that would make my therapist proud.” Eight hours per day can help make one happy (maybe), but is happiness the point? Do we even know in any given day, week, or month what will make us happy over the medium to long term? We think we do, but I know many, many people who get exactly what they want . . . and then find out it wasn’t as great as they thought it would be.
Vanderleun is right: these 1940s color pics are fascinating slices of American life. I have seen some of them at Dr X, in the past. Part of the message for me is how soft and luxurious our lives have become over the past 60-70 years. Women had muscles then, but not from working out at the health club.
Here's one of the pics:
Thursday, August 12. 2010
 ...I'd buy this W. 12th St. townhouse as a pied a terre. I'd let all my millions of best friends use it, too, when they visited NYC. There would be a maid and a cook who lived on the top floor, and three reserved parking spots at the garage down the street.
All day long I'd biddy biddy bum...
With the lousy economy, and the closing of so many Wall St. firms, prices are coming down a bit, but such places remain pricey from my humble standpoint. They are asking $29 million for this typical and rather ordinary one (see photos at link). I guess lots of people want to have places in Manhattan these days.
People who are not familiar with 19th century NY townhouses do not know that they all have pleasant little gardens in the back. Lots of landcaping businesses in NY specialize in townhouse mini-gardens. Little fountains, mini-patios, quiet lighting, pots, plants that like the city, etc. I once knew somebody whose Mom kept her pet tortoise in her NY garden for many years. Animal probably outlived her. It fed on bugs, worms, weeds and grass in the garden, and vegetables left-over from Chinese take-out. Crunched up those skinny dried hot peppers without batting an eye. It lived in the kitchen in the winter.
I think it was a Greek Tortoise (Testudo graeca) that she snuck home in her luggage from a trip to Corfu in the late 1950s. Gerald Durrell, brother of Lawrence Durrell, loved those tortoises when he summered in the Greek islands. Those animals can live well over 60 years. They become precious living heirlooms, like parrots.
Photo of T. graeca in its natural spartan habitat:
Wednesday, August 11. 2010
Wrote this post back in January, before we finalized our travel plans - not going to the Veneto this year...maybe next year. Or maybe Provence...or if the Dems entirely ruin the country, nowhere fun and just farm drudgery.
Considering a visit to Padua (just a few minutes outside Venice) to see the Arena Chapel with its Giotto interior while visiting the Veneto and Dolomites this summer (maybe). It's a famous chapel - more famous than the Matisse and Chagall Church in Westchester - but it looks very much like the Giotto stuff in the chapels in Santa Croce, which I have seen.
I read that, to visit the Capella, you need reservations, decontamination, etc. Plus a time limit and no photos, as is usual in Italian historic churches.
 I guess I should have known that the title of that email was going to be a Canadian pharmacy hawking Viagra, but for a second there my crazy brain thought it might be about how to want to bed geriatric women.
You know, a Zorba-type thing. What a great movie. The inspiration for Mr. Tambourine Man, I have heard.
 Our friend Sippican is having a major sale of his brand-new antiques. Serious markdowns.
His stuff is all solid wood, nothing fake, and generally consistent with Maggie's Farm style - all-American homespun with no Baroque or Rococo.
We have a couple of his pieces and they are handsome. Heirlooms (and if you happen to wonder about the etymology of "heirloom," it's just like it sounds).
Here's Sipp's furniture website.
Tuesday, August 10. 2010
I read that America's saving rate is rising, and that people are paying off their personal debt - and that retail business is terrible.
Are you buying stuff and spending money, or restraining yourself these days?
Let us know, in the comments.
Monday, August 9. 2010
 Re my Bias Against Beauty post, a case in point from yesterday's news.
Red-blooded American fellows are challenged by this sort of charming person, regardless of what the lesbian feminazis might say.
Sunday, August 8. 2010
 Instead of turning up my nose at Baroque design, I decided to try to get into the heads of those who promulgated this heavily-ornamented style from around 1600 to 1750 in Europe.
Aside from some Italian kitsch, nobody has done new baroque for a long time. This remarkable book, Baroque: Architecture, Sculpture, Painting, despite its abundance of photos, is not a coffee-table book. It is dense with text and scholarly detail, and 500 pages of small print which tests my eyes. There is no way I will complete this before I arrive in Vienna, but I will give it the old college try.
One idea which is coming through clearly is the notion of "the world as a stage." Baroque design is meant to be a stage set. It was meant to impress and/or intimidate and/or inspire - to convey power and wealth, but also to provide a grandiose setting for the highly formalized interactions and occasions of the high classes of the time. It does that, however fussy, overdone, and gratuitously gaudy it may look to a modern eye.
Another feature of Baroque design is that it moves. It has curves, details that jump out; interiors can be a "blooming, buzzing confusion" (the term William James used to describe his speculation about the experience of a human infant).
Versailles, St. Peter's Square (which is a circle), and the Hofberg Library are some classics of Baroque. Baroque is sensual, indulgent, extravagant, maybe grandiloquent. Like Bach. Bernini's 1650 Ecstasy of St. Theresa contains most of the elements of Baroque, especially the melding of sensual art with the grand architectural design:
Here's a short list of the main elements of Baroque design.
Wiki explains how Baroque design has its roots in Mannerism, and how it was replaced, as a design fashion, by the aesthetic of Neoclassicism, which embraced restraint and cool "reason" as a reaction to a Baroque which had been taken to its limits.
We do not need to be enslaved to the aesthetic of our own time - or of any time. Baroque, however interesting, just isn't a Maggie's Farm, Yankee style. It's not in the blood.
Here's a Baroque era table, which I find both hideous and wonderful at the same time. It certainly moves, with those squigglies wiggling all over the inlay, and those sea slugs creeping up the legs:
 A new report claims a bias against female beauty in a number of jobs. I am not surprised.
I always advise young associates to avoid regular work with sexy females, unless the associate is on the make. The distraction can be too much for a fellow to handle, the chemistry can be too exothermic, and familiarity can quickly turn to grievous consequences after a couple of cocktails.
For a serene and honorable life, I advise working with fat women with a wart on their nose - preferably with a hair growing out of the wart.
This strategy has always worked for me. I have a libidinous nature and a dirty mind, so it matters.
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