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.
Amateur addicts always have an excuse, but those who are honest with themselves will admit that it just makes them feel good and that they have addictive tendencies.
Feel free to punch holes in his argument, but based on his examples it seems to work dramatically - watch his example in Mexico. A guy who exterminated 40,000 elephants by mistake deserves to be listened to.
On a micro, non-desertification level, I have noticed that the quality of the grasses on one of our 50-acre fields at the farm has deteriorated visibly since we have not had cattle there. Of course, our New England meadows are naturally woodlands and not natural grasslands.
These people who seem to believe they are the spawn of aliens, animals inside a human body, boys who believe they are girls, and all the other sorts of silly fantasy lives that people put on display today, are people with only the slightest grip on reality.
I would never claim that we shrinks and psychoanalysts have the power to change such unfortunate fantasies/delusions, but seeing other physicians collude with such fantasies disturbs me more than a little bit.
Many rightly criticize Psychiatry for over-pathologizing human variation, but normalizing total weirdness is another matter. Strange is strange, and nobody should be afraid to say so in fear of the Thought Police.
I find myself wondering how the college students of today can be so full of hate and intolerance that they require mandatory regrooving. Perhaps there is only so much sanctimonious bs one can absorb without vomiting or laughing.
This reminds me of a local town employee who got in a little trouble with his free speech at work and was sent to mandatory diversity training. He told me afterwards "I went to their classes, but it didn't take."
By recreational drugs, I mean everything from pot to crystal meth and heroin.
They are all readily available on most streets in the US (but at far-above free market prices despite being free of sales taxes) and are widely popular. I find it difficult, from a libertarian point of view, to make a continuing argument for our Federal ongoing, attempted but failed prohibition. If some people want to live in a haze for a few hours - or all the time, why not (as long as I do not have to support them)?
In a free country, having things be legal does not mean that you condone them morally, spiritually, or in any other way. Adultery is not illegal, and neither is devil-worship nor alcohol abuse. Recreational drugs used to be legal in the US, and I doubt there were more social problems with them back then. Maybe less, because when they were not illegal they were cheap. Are any of our readers old enough to remember when there was cocaine in Coke?
Funnily enough, now a Large Coke without coke is illegal in New York. Crazy world in which it is easier to buy cocaine in front of the minimart than it is to buy a Big Gulp inside.
What's your opinion?
Just don't make the argument that "It's bad for people." That will not fly, because driving is dangerous too. So is mountain-climbing.
Please review the debate in comments before commenting. Pretty good debate.
Half of those surveyed…said they had trouble finding recent graduates qualified to fill positions at their company or organization. Nearly a third gave colleges just fair to poor marks for producing successful employees. And they dinged bachelor’s-degree holders for lacking basic workplace proficiencies like adaptability, communication skills, and the ability to solve complex problems.
As I have said here many times, a Liberal Arts education is not job training. It's designed to be about life-enrichment and about molding civilized and thoughtful citizens with deeper understanding of the world and of their own civilization than secondary schools can offer.
If people want job credentials, I'd advise majoring in Medieval History, Classics, or Renaissance Literature, and minoring in Accounting, Engineering, hard sciences, or Econ (or the other way around) - combining the life-enhancement with the utilitarian.
The kids should consider this: anything that can be learned just as well at The Great Courses/Teaching Company should not be studied at great expense in college. With all the alternative ways of learning higher ed material nowadays, spending big bucks for it makes no sense. And if you need a class and exams to provide the discipline, then one should work on one's discipline.
You can obtain a top-notch Liberal Arts education with them, with as much breadth or depth as you desire. I eagerly await the day that the company will offer their courses for college credit.
Are kids supposed to be eachothers' social workers now? I am all for civilized behavior, but this nursery-school sort of moonbattery, attempting to insulate kids from the rough and tumble of real life, seems insane to me (not to mention unconstitutional):
We all enjoy supportive environments. However, that is not necessarily what we need. For supportive environments, we have home. For annoying jerks and bullies we have ostracism, gossip, and fists as handy tools.
Well, because it's just what most people do unless they are either Catholic or prosperous, or want to take on home-schooling. It's just normal. My own kids mostly avoided public schools because I could (barely, and not really) afford to.
In the end, though, isn't most primary education ultimately home-schooling anyway? I think it is.
Copies are available at Amazon for over $100. but I found a used copy somewhere on the internet for one dollar.
It's a practical, common-sense introduction to management. Fun to read with all of his examples. His main topics: Authority, Communication, Productivity, Morale, Change.
Previous books in this semester's not-for-credit course:
This is an annual re-post. We'll post more game recipes over the next few weeks to help our hunters with their bursting freezers -
With hunting season winding, it's time to get cooking what we have in the freezer. It all begins with the sauce:
Uncle Bill's Jus de Gibier (mixed game) sauce, aka Brown Game Stock, aka Clean out the Freezer Sauce
Technically, it's a jus, not a sauce. Add a little roux and it will become a sauce.
This will be the tastiest sauce base you have ever had in your life, for chicken, game birds, turkey, venison, pork, veal, pasta, ravioli, etc. It's an ideal base for pheasant, chicken, venison or goose bourguignon. It has an earthy richness to it which is remarkable. We like to make a woodcock ravioli with black truffle, and this sauce is essential for that.
Gibier refers to mixed game, but we do it with mixed meat too, but not beef, which would overpower the subtler flavors. It is the best use of freezer-burned game and other stuff in the freezer. It's fun to make (but it takes a while), and you can clean out the freezer and the fridge at the same time. I freeze the used carcasses of Thanksgiving turkey, ducks, goose, random deer bones, etc. to use when I make this, once or twice a year, along with freezer-burned chicken, pheasant, etc. You could do this with entirely store-bought stuff if you lack a hunter in the family. The more stuff, the better.
You need a 10-12 (or larger) quart pot to make this, if you have a lot of stuff to use, but it freezes fine when made. It's good for a few months, at least.
Bake in oven until browned (not necessarily cooked-though) your saved carcasses and freezer-burned game meat and meat, especially pork and pork bones are good, and veal bones, (even if they have already been cooked). Yes, you bake the bones too. Do not burn them in the oven. I tend to use freezer-burned venison, pork chops, all my game bird carcasses, venison bones (cracked with a mallet), a bunch of veal bones and veal scraps if I can get them nowadays (it doesn't hurt to hit up the butcher for some stuff for this), turkey carcass, woodcock carcasses, and a pile of chicken wings. Chop this stuff roughly with a cleaver into 3-6" chunks and toss in the pot. Try to crack the bones.
From Leef: The Spirit of Adam Smith Returns - At one time, professors were independent contractors paid by students; that relationship may return:
It is a bad habit Americans have gotten into that we often look askance
at learning opportunities unless they’re “for credit.” The return of the
free market in higher education will help break that habit, as people
again learn for the sake of learning (as Adam Smith’s students did) and
stop taking courses just because they need some credits.
Perhaps the new competition will end up determining who wants to learn things, and who just wants the credential.
We have posted in the past about the history of romance being converted into covenant marriage. Marriage has always been in transition, and, for better or worse, it is in transition now.
As I have said countless times here, I don't know how people can run an orderly, complicated, and productive life without a committed partner, much less create a family with all of the things family entails - finances, traditions, social life, stability, values and religion, disciplines, etc. The very wealthy always could do that, but not otherwise.
I never forget the story of how Thomas Lincoln (Abe's father, a prosperous and prominent Kentucky farmer and real-estate investor at the time) hopped on his wagon and drove to the nearest city, leaving the kids in charge of themselves, to quickly fetch a new wife after Nancy died. I believe he fetched the first widow he could find, Sarah.
Today, he would be arrested for leaving the kids on their own.
...even after almost half a century, somewhere inside I’m still eighteen and scratching a living on horseback in chaps, helping push a dusty, cranky herd of cattle to the upper range, with the brim of my cowboy hat shading a blinding bright summer view that stretches out well beyond next payday and leapfrogs my petty cares, a view from where we stood on the high summer range, overlooking the winter pastures far below, and on beyond the cities known and unknown, my young heart sailing away past the verdant, distant hills, careening towards an unknown brilliant future … and now, like the old cowboy with his idiot grin, I find myself wandering that same path still, with that same young heart and those same illusions and foolish dreams.
500,000 rail passengers move daily through that remarkable two-level space. That's a lot, but it will be more when the Long Island Railroad's new underground construction is complete (LIRR now only goes to Penn Station out in the West Side hinterlands). It was brilliant to put those tracks underground up to 96th St., thus creating upper Park Avenue and its now-insanely valuable real estate.
This ol' country boy still loves NYC. In my youth, I greeted so many gals and pals at that station, coming or going, that I feel nostalgia whenever I am there. Adventure. It looks and feels far better now, but that musty old train station smell is the same.
My pic of the Grand Central Market. Good stuff for prosperous commuters
to pick up on the way home. Excellent cheese and fish stalls.
We all want to be effective in achieving our life goals. Like all of the classic or semi-classic books in this seminar, the best advantage is to be gained from group discussion of favorite points in a seminar forum or a group of peers instead of just by reading them. A book group sort of thing.
Is it possible to create new habits? Of course it is, but learning requires humility and improvement requires self-discipline and risk-taking. I am eager to learn from others. We all tend to learn how to negotiate life by example, or by our failures. The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People: Powerful Lessons in Personal Change.
All of these books have helped me enormously in my work life and in managing my personal life.
Previous books in this semester's not-for-credit course:
It's the end of hunting season, and I have not killed enough stuff this year to satisfy the hunter in me. I have a doe in the freezer, countless pheasants and chukars, a few Canada Geese and a bunch of ducks of several species. A couple of grouse, but we have eaten most of them and all of the woodcock. (Ask me how to make woodcock ravioli with jus de gibier and black truffle - I will tell you.)
There is a feeling of regret. How many hunting seasons does a man have in one lifetime? And work, family, and obligations intrude, as they should and must. Carpe diem, if you can. It's been a terrible winter for ducks - weather too pleasant.
The only consolation is that it is now time to really get cooking all of the good game in the freezer. For starters, we're doing a large-scale venison bourguignon for a get-together next weekend. The following week, will do the venison filets for some lucky guests. With the Canada geese, I will have a small party and sautee the breasts rare with some mushrooms and celery root puree, with gibier sauce, etc. For the ducks - oh, man. Very special recipes for those precious wild spirits, which I may write about sometime. For the Snow Geese, a nice cassoulet with some other mixed game. For all the bones, wings, carcasses, etc., including the carcass of the Thanksgiving turkey and the bone of the Christmas ham, we'll make a gallon or two of Uncle Bill's jus de gibier, to use with everything, saving some of it for a special, once a year consomme de gibier for Valentine's Day.
Despite all of these delights, I'd rather be in the woods and swamps with the dogs and a gun.
I have made the case here, in the past, that PTSD is not so much a disease or "disorder," but a normal variant in response to disturbing events. The mental health field, these days, is pathologizing everything and everybody.
I have seen persistent PTSD complaints in all sorts of people, far more civilians than military. Life affects us deeply, and can shatter us, unless we are heavily armored or lacking in emotional response. I have seen them in sudden announcements to divorce, spousal death, deaths of a child, job loss, fatal car crashes, young police officers, and witnesses to the 9-11 jumpers.
We Westerners live in a mostly safe world, insulated from so much of the pain, distress, and horror which were routine in past generations. An ordinary snowfall, or a loss of electric power, is now a really big deal, a tragedy. We are so safe and comfortable that we have lost the tools to cope with tough situations, scenes of horror, and painful memories. These things do, indeed, change us. Comfort and safety have made us innocent, in a way. Police and doctors deal with these things routinely, and develop thick skins, professional distance.
By government, they mean the VA. "Qualifying" for disability is a terrible idea. Getting into life is the best plan, whether one wants to or not. No matter what happens, it's best to buck up and get on with it.
There is no treatment, no cure, for being human. There is no cure for PTSD complaints other than the old-fashioned "tincture of time." Entrepreneurs out there sell cures which are snake oil. All we Psychiatrists really have to offer these people is care, emotional support, help with substance abuse, and, if they wish, emotion-blunting medicines. There is no magic cure for life's horrors and misfortunes other than alcohol and drugs, and they tend to make things worse in the end.
Those very thick Costco Prime Ribeyes are the official steak of Maggie's Farm. Given the choice of cooking them on charcoal or in a fiery-hot cast iron pan, I'll always use the pan. They must come out Rare, in my view, and crispy on the outside which means taking them off the heat before they are Rare. I always have to remind myself that they continue cooking after you take them off the stove. Undercooked is much better than overcooked, and a smoky kitchen is a good kitchen.
I use a little butter in addition to the steak's fat. On a normal day, I can only eat half a Costco ribeye. I like to serve it with some canned red bell pepper slices, sauteed and almost burned, in the same pan. Mashed potatoes too, of course, and if anybody makes creamed spinach, then it's a perfect supper.
How cool is it that the really smart, disciplined people know how to do these things? Civil Engineers. They build amazing, grand stuff so the rest of us can get to our cubicles and spend the day staring at monitors.
Those guys are the people who make the world work for the rest of us, and I admire them immensely.
In New England, you can still see some old tumbledown icehouses around. Household refrigerators were not in common use until the late 1920s. It was iceboxes until you could afford an electric refrigerator. A properly-built icehouse could store ice for over a year.
Some psychoanalysts like Kohut and Kernberg have theoretical ideas about it. Sometimes I think that the word, and whatever idea exists behind the idea, is a sociocultural construct more than anything else.
That is not to say that we are not individuals with our own personality tendencies.
Long-time readers know that my experience teaches me that retirement is often a poor state of affairs for the average American male. Many deteriorate physically and mentally. I have one 92 year-old client who goes to the office every day after swimming a half-mile at the Y. Work keeps him young. He does indulge in 4 weeks of vacation travel each year, however, and has great-grandkids around the house all the time. Nice, balanced life. First wife died, now on his second but she is not doing too well now.
A beautiful life, really, although he is not wealthy. He still has a mortgage, which I think is a smart thing to have. Bought his current home for $37,000, now has a $200,000 mortgage on it and it is worth around $700,000. today.
I have been updating his will and trusts for over 25 years, when he first thought he was getting old.
I have to confess that I'm a person who far prefers playing almost any sport badly to watching other people do it well. When I was in grad school, we had the best "touch" - read "shove very hard so the guy falls in the mud" - football games, weekly. A joy. Being quick and agile then, I was usually a runner (and a ball-dropper). That football is a slippery bugger.
Since every TV sports fan in the US is either hosting or attending a party today (any excuse for a party, or for buying a new big screen), and because I do like to make and eat chicken wings, I offer Alton Brown's very good Buffalo Chicken Wing instructions.
As usual with Alton, the show is a kick - and educational - even if you don't care about the recipe.
For Alton, everything simple is an adventure. Great production.
Our editor has been inspiring with food this winter.
My serious girlfriend and I are having a little dinner party for 12 friends tonight. Acquaintances with whom we feel we would like to be better friends, and who could enrich our life.
Building new friendships as a couple is a complicated dance, isn't it? Do I enjoy their company? Do they think I'm boring, or a jerk? Do they wonder what I am doing with her, or she with me? You never know unless they call you back to do something after you have extended your hand in friendship.
Whether formally or informally, inviting people into your humble abode for supper is generally a social signal of warm and positive feelings unless it involves business. No space at my kitchen table, so will need my whole humble Lower East Side 1 BR apartment for seating. Who cares, if it's a good time?
I had braised (Massachusetts White-Tail) venison shoulder and various scraps in the crock pot all day yesterday, and later we'll whip up some cheese grits for a side and reheat the stew. About 8 lbs. of meat. I agree that stews are always better a day later.
We're having people who never ate a Bambi before. Actually, it's from a sweet-tasting and tender doe I bowed last month up at the Bird Dog homestead, but I will not mention that. Baguette to sop up the juice. A relatively cheap California cabernet, and good beers for the beer people. I am too cheap and modest to pay for some good Burgundies.
Then a tiny scoop of mango sorbet with a mint sprig on it.
After that, the Stinky Cheese Board (thanks, Fairway cheese man) with fruit, dried fruit, and nuts, for dessert or, I suppose, a savoury. Fig preserves and walnutty French breads to accompany the cheeses which have been out of the fridge all day to soften up. Bottle of nice port that my Dad gave me for Christmas, for those who enjoy Sunday morning headaches.
Entertaining people with whom you want friendship is easy, the Maggie's Farm Way. The secret ingredients, it seems to me, are not food, decor, or fancy homes or restaurants, but intelligent people with interesting and varied interests, charming gals, lively conversation, controversial topics, and snappy repartee. It requires just one or two people who are willing to rise to the occasion to be the life of the party without over-drinking. I will do that if nobody else will, but I'd rather leave that to others.
The meaning of tasty or interesting food is to honor guests who take the trouble to come to your place.
By recreational drugs, I mean everything from pot to crystal meth and heroin.
Mead's post 
Uncle Bill's Jus de Gibier (mixed game) sauce, aka Brown Game Stock, aka Clean out the Freezer Sauce
At best, the merger of 
A wonderful read. From 
It's the end of hunting season, and I have not killed enough stuff this year to satisfy the hunter in me. I have a doe in the freezer, countless pheasants and chukars, a few Canada Geese and a bunch of ducks of several species. A couple of grouse, but we have eaten most of them and all of the woodcock. (Ask me how to make woodcock ravioli with jus de gibier and black truffle - I will tell you.)
Long-time readers know that my experience teaches me that retirement is often a poor state of affairs for the average American male. Many deteriorate physically and mentally. I have one 92 year-old client who goes to the office every day after swimming a half-mile at the Y. Work keeps him young. He does indulge in 4 weeks of vacation travel each year, however, and has great-grandkids around the house all the time. Nice, balanced life. First wife died, now on his second but she is not doing too well now.
Maybe we all need to learn the hard way, but there is so little time to fail. It's a truism that we can learn more from failures than from successes. 
I have to confess that I'm a person who far prefers playing almost any sport badly to watching other people do it well. When I was in grad school, we had the best "touch" - read "shove very hard so the guy falls in the mud" - football games, weekly. A joy. Being quick and agile then, I was usually a runner (and a ball-dropper). That football is a slippery bugger.
Our editor has been inspiring with food this winter.