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.
In my experience, males are just as emotionally-vulnerable as any other gender. Without male emotional vulnerability there would be no country music.
What the people promoting this notion miss is that most males spend years trying to be, or trying to at least act or appear, emotionally strong, brave, and tough. There are many good reasons for that, not the least being because these are things that appeal to women.
It's not just cultural, though. There's a biological substrate to it, obvious to anyone who has raised kids. Guys work to be emotionally strong in the same way they work to be physically strong, and to be tough in their effectiveness in the world. It's their job. Might be womens' job too, but that's another subject.
So enough of this baby-talk, Princeton, unless you wish to become a high-end kindergarten..
Bulldog's Free Ad for Disneyworld reminded me of Carl Hiassen's book Native Tongue, a dark comedy (as usual, "ruthlessly wicked") about the dark underbelly of the Amazing Kingdom of Thrills.
Photo: Good travel clothing for men and women, and pickpocket-proof in case you go to Europe with all of their immigrant thieves: Clothing Arts.
Good work clothing for women who want to look feminine but professional: Nora Gardner.com (with a new store opening in Boston's Back Bay this week). All made in the USA.
(Writing about Rousseau)In the Confessions, he claimed to be “drunk on virtue.” And indeed, it turned out that “virtue” for Rousseau had nothing to do with acting or behaving in a certain way toward others. On the contrary, the criterion of virtue was his subjective feeling of goodness. For Rousseau, as for the countercultural radicals who followed him, “feeling good about yourself” was synonymous with moral rectitude. Actually behaving well was irrelevant if not, indeed, a sign of “inauthenticity” because it suggested a concern for conventional approval. Virtue in this Rousseauvian sense is scarcely distinguishable from moral intoxication. Anyone who has contemplated the suppression of free speech in the name of sensitivity and identity politics on our college campuses will understand what I mean.
Establishing the reign of virtue is no easy task, as Rousseau’s avid disciple Maximilien Robespierre discovered to his chagrin. All those “particular wills” -- i.e., individual men and women with their diverse aims and desires -- are so recalcitrant and so ungrateful for one’s efforts to make them virtuous. Still, one does what one can to convince them to conform. And the guillotine, of course, is a great expedient. ..
Sure, we've all had experiences when the voice on the GPS thing directed us poorly. Mrs. BD and I have especially had those experiences in Europe. It can waste a lot of time, but sometimes can be serendipitously interesting anyway.
One time, in Sicily, we were directed through miles of dirt roads in lemon groves because the Euroland thing was set for "most direct route". Yeah, it was an "as the crow flies" route to some obscure place we wanted to hike with the Christian tombs carved into the cliffs.
I like maps for the big picture, and the driving tech for the details. Just last weekend, driving home from a fishing trip, I kept wondering "What town are we in?" I felt like "Where the heck are we, on a map? Where are we, on the planet?" We didn't have a clue, but WAZE got us home.
I think a combination of a map and a GPS voice are a handy combination - one for the practical and one for curiosity.
Anders couldn’t get to the bank until just before it closed, so of course the line was endless and he got stuck behind two women whose loud, stupid conversation put him in a murderous temper. He was never in the best of tempers anyway, Anders – a book critic known for the weary, elegant savagery with which he dispatched almost everything he reviewed. ..
The intellectual had become not so much an occupational type as a status type. He was like the medieval cleric, most of whose energies were devoted to separating himself from the mob—which in modern times, in Revel’s phrase, goes under the name of the middle class. … Moral indignation was the main thing; that, and a certain pattern of consumption. In fact, by the 1960s it was no longer necessary to produce literature, scholarship, or art—or even to be involved in such matters, except as a consumer—in order to qualify as an intellectual. It was only necessary to live la vie intellectuellle. A little brown bread in a bread box, a lapsed pledge card to CORE, a stereo and a record rack full of Coltrane and all the Beatles albums from Revolver on, white walls, a huge Dracaena marginata plant, which is there because all the furniture is so clean-lined and spare that without this piece of frondose tropical Victoriana the room looks empty, a stack of unread New York Review of Books rising up in a surly mound of subscription guilt, the conviction that America is materialistic, repressive, bloated, and deadened by its Silent Majority, which resides in the heartland, three grocery boxes full of pop bottles wedged in behind the refrigerator and destined (one of these days) for the Recycling Center, a small, uncomfortable European car—that pretty well got the job done...
another:
American architecture had never recovered from the deadening influence of the German Bauhaus movement of the twenties. American painting and sculpture had never recovered from the deadening influence of various theory-driven French movements, beginning with Cubism early in the twentieth century. In music, the early twentieth-century innovations of George Gershwin, Aaron Copland, Duke Ellington, and Ferde Grofé had been swept away by the abstract, mathematical formulas of the Austrian composer Arnold Schoenberg. Schoenberg’s influence had faded in the 1990s, but the damage had been done. The American theater had never recovered from the Absurdism of Samuel Beckett, Bertolt Brecht, and Luigi Pirandello...
Somebody somewhere highlighted the distinctions between the two, especially as regarding political issues, and suggested that we consider which might be guiding our points of view.
Opinions, I suppose, require rational arguments whereas attitudes do not. Attitudes, it seems to me, come from temperamental predispositions, personal experiences, social environment, and the like. Nobody asks you to support a general attitude with data.
What's your view? Is it a meaningful distinction or not? I think it is.
Taleb believes that individuals require a great deal of autonomy in order to be truly free. In this view, working in large corporations or other hierarchical environments is antithetical to freedom.
I am sure we have readers who did wait staff jobs at some point in life. I discussed the skills involved with somebody this weekend. We laughed about two topics in particular. First, how to load and balance a full tray of plates and silverware, get under it in a squat, and lift. Second, how to load a tray of 20-30 glasses and throw a damp towel on top to glue them together.
Of course, the dramatic moments are when you drop a fully-loaded tray because some little kid scurries in front of you. Big crash, everybody has to rubberneck. Good times.
Just busing tables at large events quickly and efficiently is a skill. Delivering food to the tables is another skill. When I was in college, we figured 40 wait staff for 1000 guests, 4-5 for 150 guests. It's a work-out.
I suspect that part of the problem the Boy Scouts have faced is the remarkable rise of organized sports for youth. Also, the nerdy, wholesome image which does not fit with the age of hip hop.
Is the idea of being a decent, kind, and honorable person who has many basic life skills an obsolete one? Of course not. Among other things I learned as a Scout, I learned to be always kind to the elderly, to change a tire, to confront bullies and jerks, CPR, how to start a fire in the rain with wet wood, basic riflery and firearm safety, point-to-point navigation on land and sea. I also learned that outdoor camping, regardless of weather, is better in the telling than in the doing. Still, there is nothing as fine as sitting around a campfire.
For adults like me who seek and aspire to living a strenuous life rather than a relaxed one, the guys put together a sort-of adult Boy Scout program: 12-WEEK INITIATION INTO THE CULT OF STRENUOSITY.
Peterson is an apologist for a set of beliefs that we once took for granted but now require an articulate defence, such as: Free speech is an essential value; perfect equality inevitably conflicts with individual freedom; one should be cautious before attempting to reengineer social institutions that appear to be working; men and women are, in certain quantifiable respects, different. His life advice concerns the necessity to defer gratification, face up to the trials of life with equanimity, take responsibility for one’s own choices, and struggle against the temptation to grow resentful. How such traditional values came to be portrayed as a danger adjacent to Nazism is one of the puzzles of our time.
Colonel Van T. Barfoot won the Congressional Medal of Honor in World War II. He also fought the battle vs his local homeowner's association to erect a flagpole in his front yard.
He's right. Peterson is a (mostly secular) pastor with a dark message (Life is suffering, a hard thing to do) and a challenge to life adventure (Fight chaos, Be the best you can be, Don't make things worse, etc.). Like a good preacher, he brings truisms and even banalities back to life in a useful and, for many, inspirational way. He rights the ship in a crazy world.
Besides that, he's smarter and more articulate than any of us. God bless him.
Snarky about brunch. Truth is, brunch after church with friends is one of the most pleasant things in life. A delicious meal too, with smoked salmon and other neat things.
My best Sunday morning: Early one-hour workout, church, brunch with friends in an outdoor cafe with a Bloody Mary or Bloody Bull, until 1 or 2 pm. Then go do something interesting or go for a walk.
Life can be wonderful and beautiful if structured correctly and a Sunday brunch is part of that on a lovely Spring day.
Winter image is some village in Brooklyn by Francis Guy, c. 1819.
On its own, Brooklyn is perhaps the 3rd largest city in the US. However, it was incorporated into New York City in 1898 after much political squabbling.
It's basically a 70 square-mile peninsula of the western end of Long Island, jutting into New York harbor. Named after Breukelin in Holland as it was first settled by the Dutch (if you don't consider the Lenape Indians who were there then).
It is a boom town now with high-rise office buildings and luxury buildings sprouting up everywhere. Gentrifying rapidly. Still, much of it is a brownstone townhouse and wood-frame house city of developments built on farmland from the mid-1800s through the 1920s. Like much of the New York metropolitan area, it has an abundance of relatively distinct neighborhoods distinguished by class, ethnicity, affinity groups, etc. There are Hasidic and Orthodox areas, black areas, Italian neighborhoods, hipster neighborhoods, blue-collar neighborhoods, fully-mixed neighborhoods, quite down-at-the- heels areas like East New York, industrial and warehouse areas, upper class neighborhoods - almost everything but Asian neighborhoods which are mostly in Queens. And yes, Coney Island too.
While it is a city unto itself, there is no doubt that the economic engine for it is Manhattan even though many Brooklynites rarely venture into Manhattan. And vice-versa, except for the BAM and Peter Lugar's Steakhouse.
There's a good map of the Brooklyn neighborhoods below the fold. Our 12-mile hike last Sat. did not get much further than the westernmost neighborhoods. It would take a lot of time to explore the whole place on foot. I have a daughter in Crown Heights and a nephew in Williamsburg. One of our hiking pals was born in Brooklyn Heights. My grandma (from Norwalk, CT) taught school in Clinton Hill before she got married to a prosperous physician from Connecticut.
Photo: Good travel clothing for men and women, and pickpocket-proof in case you go to Europe with all of their immigrant thieves:
Sure, we've all had experiences when the voice on the GPS thing directed us poorly. Mrs. BD and I have especially had those experiences in Europe. It can waste a lot of time, but sometimes can be serendipitously interesting anyway. 
I was curious about why I never see cabooses anymore. 