Walter Cronkite died last week. I was six years old when he retired as the anchor of CBS news, but I remember him vividly. He was on our black and white TV all the time in the late 70's, and to me he was what news looked like: A white haired guy with a mustache, looking like Captain Kangaroo and speaking in a reassuringly solid bass voice.
I did not live through many of the events that made him famous. The Vietnam War, the assassination of Kennedy, and the moon landing were all before my time. I'm hearing a lot of background information about how he has become the voice that was most closely associated with the news of these events. As one of the most prominent news anchors in the world, it seems like he almost WAS what the news was. "That's the way it is" was his sign off.
It reminds me of an aspect of Orson Scott Card's book Ender's Game, which I'm rereading once again, this time with my girlfriend Lynnea. Despite my usual observation that Orson Scott Card has been gradually turning into a lunatic over the past decade or so, good old Past Orson has got some great fiction behind him.
In many ways, Card's book is surprisingly prescient when it comes to technology. First written as a short story in 1977 before being novelized in 1985, it accurately describes email and the internet as a pervasive influence in the futuristic students' lives. The lingo isn't quite right, of course, but the general idea is pretty spot-on.
On the other hand some of it rings false -- really embarrassingly false. I'm focusing in particular on the subplot of Ender's brother and sister, Peter and Valentine. Little geniuses at the ages of 13 and 10 respectively, they decide to become influential political commentators by hiding their identities and writing articles and debates on "the news nets." They assume the identities of "Locke" and "Demosthenes" and, as planned, become famous bloggers (though this term isn't used, of course) to whom everyone listens. In short, it seems like they are trying to become the Walter Cronkites of their generation.
Which, to me, makes no sense. Because whether you think this is good or bad, I don't think that Walter Cronkite can really exist anymore in this post-internet world. Cronkite was a central voice of authority partly because everyone watched TV news, and there were three major networks at the time, and only an hour of major news per network per night. In this arena of scant competition, it's not surprising that one news anchor could become "the most trusted man in America."
Now there is not only network news, but many cable news networks that are devoted to covering stories around the clock. There are tens of thousands of political blogs, many of them individually influential in their own way. While there are news celebrities of a sort, none of them are watched by a simple majority of people in America.
Also, people are tending to pay attention to the news coverage that meshes with what they think. Some of us read lefty blogs like Daily Kos and Balloon Juice while listening to Thom Hartmann and watching Rachel Maddow. And then others watch Fox News and listen to Rush Limbaugh. It's like there aren't just multiple sources of news; for some people, it almost seems as if there are multiple different kinds of reality.
Figuratively, of course. There's only one kind of reality, but most people filter their reality through the outlets from which they choose to receive it. Orson Scott Card's kids tried to rule the world by becoming the filter that controls the greatest market share of reality. Going a few steps further, George Orwell wrote 1984 laced with the fear that one group would squelch all others in monopolizing the way that people receive their information.
Something really different is happening to media instead. I think it's less frightening, but it's a lot weirder. While media companies may be consolidating, TV and newspaper sales are actually losing their monopolies on people's opinions, replaced instead by a million Lockes and Demosthenes(es?), who all want you to listen to their version of "the way it is."
Monday, July 20, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
Pet peeve: this metaphor sucks
Today's Paul Krugman column says:
Why? Why is it a useful analogy? It only confuses the issue to spread the urban legend that frogs won't jump out of boiling water, and then say "Okay actually they will, but the analogy stands."
At least Krugman has the presence of mind to point out that it's an urban legend... most people quote the frog legend as if it were true. But frankly, by repeating the urban legend you're reinforcing the false story and increasing the likelihood of cementing it as a true story, by people who miss the instant retraction.
Here's a better idea: somebody ought to find a new metaphor to describe a person who doesn't notice they're in trouble as their situation gradually changes. If you can't think of one, then maybe metaphors just aren't the way to go here, because they muddle the issue rather than clarify it.
Is America on its way to becoming a boiled frog?
I’m referring, of course, to the proverbial frog that, placed in a pot of cold water that is gradually heated, never realizes the danger it’s in and is boiled alive. Real frogs will, in fact, jump out of the pot — but never mind. The hypothetical boiled frog is a useful metaphor for a very real problem: the difficulty of responding to disasters that creep up on you a bit at a time.
Why? Why is it a useful analogy? It only confuses the issue to spread the urban legend that frogs won't jump out of boiling water, and then say "Okay actually they will, but the analogy stands."
At least Krugman has the presence of mind to point out that it's an urban legend... most people quote the frog legend as if it were true. But frankly, by repeating the urban legend you're reinforcing the false story and increasing the likelihood of cementing it as a true story, by people who miss the instant retraction.
Here's a better idea: somebody ought to find a new metaphor to describe a person who doesn't notice they're in trouble as their situation gradually changes. If you can't think of one, then maybe metaphors just aren't the way to go here, because they muddle the issue rather than clarify it.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Al Franken wins -- o rly? ya srsly
Yes I have jumped the gun on this story a time or two, but this time it seems pretty definite.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Gold mania
Via the Freakonomics blog I just learned that there's a racket going on in Germany where they have vending machines that sell gold coins and bars at 30% above the current market rate. Brilliant!
When economic times get tough, the tough think of creative new ways to steal from the fearful. I've been noticing with much bemusement how full show-length advertisements on Christian radio loudly exhort their listeners to buy gold, and before that I've been fascinated by a precious metal pyramid scheme known as "Liberty Dollars."
Now this one... you really have to stand and goggle in awe at the sheer unmitigated chutzpah of a company whose business model provides a service that is so utterly worthless, and which displays so much naked greed.
Let me explain this again. Gold is an investment. Maybe it's a good investment right now, and maybe it's a bad one, but that's not the point. The point is that [edit: for most people] gold has no other value than as decoration or investment, and it's a really freaking bad investment if you have to pay 30% overhead up front.
Vending machines are for impulse buys. If you are walking past a vending machine in an airport and you see a candy bar for $1.50, and you say "Hmmm, a candy bar sounds mighty tasty right now" then to you at that moment, the candy bar is worth $1.50. Never mind that the same candy bar would cost you half as much or less if you bought it from a store. It has utility value to you.
Golddoesn't have has very limited utility value, and if you buy an investment with impulse dollars at a 30% markup, you are beyond stupid. Go home, do some freaking research, and buy it from a reputable vendor who will charge you 1-3% up front. You don't have to own the gold RIGHT NOW THIS INSTANT. I mean, if you're in an airport at the exact moment when The End Of The World As We Know It hits, maybe you could make a case for raiding the gold vending machine. But if that's the case, I think you might want to focus a little more on fleeing for your life at that point.
When economic times get tough, the tough think of creative new ways to steal from the fearful. I've been noticing with much bemusement how full show-length advertisements on Christian radio loudly exhort their listeners to buy gold, and before that I've been fascinated by a precious metal pyramid scheme known as "Liberty Dollars."
Now this one... you really have to stand and goggle in awe at the sheer unmitigated chutzpah of a company whose business model provides a service that is so utterly worthless, and which displays so much naked greed.
Let me explain this again. Gold is an investment. Maybe it's a good investment right now, and maybe it's a bad one, but that's not the point. The point is that [edit: for most people] gold has no other value than as decoration or investment, and it's a really freaking bad investment if you have to pay 30% overhead up front.
Vending machines are for impulse buys. If you are walking past a vending machine in an airport and you see a candy bar for $1.50, and you say "Hmmm, a candy bar sounds mighty tasty right now" then to you at that moment, the candy bar is worth $1.50. Never mind that the same candy bar would cost you half as much or less if you bought it from a store. It has utility value to you.
Gold
Friday, May 22, 2009
Replay [Book, ***]
I haven't read a lot of fiction in the last few years. During the two years I've been in grad school I had to put most recreational reading on hold, and since then I've mostly read either more technical books, or nonfiction about politics or philosophy. I decided that this is something I miss in my life, so I recently raided the Round Rock Library and checked out two books. Replay by Ken Grimwood is something I browsed in a bookstore a few months ago and found interesting enough to put on my mental wish list. Dune by Frank Herbert is a book that everyone praises but I have somehow not gotten around to yet. I finished the first, so here's my review.
Replay predates the movie Groundhog Day by a few years, and uses a similar high concept. I love that movie, as I love most sci-fi that involves time travel or other creative reorganizations of time. As in Groundhog Day, Replay involves a main character trapped in an unexplained time loop. Unlike Groundhog Day, where the scope of the loop is one day, the book has its character reliving 25 years of his life.
It opens with the death of the main character, Jeff. Trapped in a loveless and childless marriage and an unfulfilling job, Jeff experiences a heart attack at the age of 43 in 1988, keels over, and awakes to find himself trapped in the past, striving to put right what once went wrong, and hoping each time that the next leap will be the leap home. Oh, wrong story. But you get the idea.
Jeff lives his life about five times that are noteworthy. As Bill Murray did, Jeff goes through various stages in his attempt to come to grips with what's happening. He uses his knowledge of the future to become insanely rich. Then he tries to fulfill himself with a better committed relationship, which works out pretty well but is entirely erased on the next round. Then he spirals into hedonism and drug abuse, then finally meets a kindred spirit who understands what he's going through. Then they try to save the world.
Unlike Groundhog Day, a fair amount of time is devoted to speculating about the real cause of the time loop, but the effort is largely wasted because they never come to anything resembling a conclusion. In fact, the whole book didn't feel like it had much of a conclusion. Jeff wanders from one life to the next and does a whole lot of stuff, and makes some effort to throw out philosophical thoughts about the implications. But the book just ends, and nothing that happened seems all that significant. Jeff's learned something, I suppose. And there's a one-off epilogue that seems to try to make it feel more significant, but didn't much work for me.
Replay was still an enjoyable read. Ultimately it's simply about a whole bunch of stuff happening, and the stuff is interesting to read about. I don't feel like I got a greater message out of it in the end, so I'll categorize this as a good diversion. It does make you think about what you would do with multiple lives, though.
*** (out of 5)
Replay predates the movie Groundhog Day by a few years, and uses a similar high concept. I love that movie, as I love most sci-fi that involves time travel or other creative reorganizations of time. As in Groundhog Day, Replay involves a main character trapped in an unexplained time loop. Unlike Groundhog Day, where the scope of the loop is one day, the book has its character reliving 25 years of his life.
It opens with the death of the main character, Jeff. Trapped in a loveless and childless marriage and an unfulfilling job, Jeff experiences a heart attack at the age of 43 in 1988, keels over, and awakes to find himself trapped in the past, striving to put right what once went wrong, and hoping each time that the next leap will be the leap home. Oh, wrong story. But you get the idea.
Jeff lives his life about five times that are noteworthy. As Bill Murray did, Jeff goes through various stages in his attempt to come to grips with what's happening. He uses his knowledge of the future to become insanely rich. Then he tries to fulfill himself with a better committed relationship, which works out pretty well but is entirely erased on the next round. Then he spirals into hedonism and drug abuse, then finally meets a kindred spirit who understands what he's going through. Then they try to save the world.
Unlike Groundhog Day, a fair amount of time is devoted to speculating about the real cause of the time loop, but the effort is largely wasted because they never come to anything resembling a conclusion. In fact, the whole book didn't feel like it had much of a conclusion. Jeff wanders from one life to the next and does a whole lot of stuff, and makes some effort to throw out philosophical thoughts about the implications. But the book just ends, and nothing that happened seems all that significant. Jeff's learned something, I suppose. And there's a one-off epilogue that seems to try to make it feel more significant, but didn't much work for me.
Replay was still an enjoyable read. Ultimately it's simply about a whole bunch of stuff happening, and the stuff is interesting to read about. I don't feel like I got a greater message out of it in the end, so I'll categorize this as a good diversion. It does make you think about what you would do with multiple lives, though.
*** (out of 5)
Music and patriotism
I've been a bad blogger lately. It's been well over a month since I've written a proper post either here or on Castles of Air. Partly that's because I've had abundant life stress on multiple fronts, which I don't really want to go into here. But I think it's a good time for me to update various things that have interested me lately.
I have a chorus concert coming up tomorrow evening. The music selection is better than it has been in a while, so if you live in Austin and like music, there are worse ways you could spend your evening tomorrow night than buying a ticket and attending.
The lineup is:
W.A. Mozart, Missa Brevis
Leonard Bernstein, Chichester Psalms
Haydn, Te Deum
Frank Tichelli, Earth Song
Randall Stroope, Homeland
The last two obviously aren't as well known as the other three. Both of them are a lot more musically simplistic but very emotional sounding. The Tichelli strikes me thematically as sort of a hippy song -- "The shattered earth cries out in vain..." and "Music and singing have been my refuge" and ends with "I'll see peace." It's corny but the music is actually quite nice. And there's a giant PowerPoint presentation over our heads, with pictures of people crying or enjoying themselves, and sunsets and rainbows and things.
Now, the last one, the Stroope, is interesting. It is set to the tune of "Jupiter" in Holst's The Planets. You can hear the original performed here, or a high school chorus singing Stroope here. It does seem to be very much geared towards a high school group, fairly lacking in subtlety and also very patriotic.
Now, typically blunt patriotism turns me off. I like the way Ambrose Bierce described it in The Devil's Dictionary: "In Dr. Johnson's famous dictionary patriotism is defined as the last resort of a scoundrel. With all due respect to an enlightened but inferior lexicographer I beg to submit that it is the first." It's not that there's anything wrong with being proud of your country, and inspired to make it as good as possible. It's just that naked worship of country, as in "My country right or wrong" or "Why do you hate America?" rubs me the wrong way, just as all blind faith would.
But while rehearsing this piece, I've found myself getting choked up a few times. When I analyzed this feeling, I noticed I'm actually feeling more real patriotism than I have in a long time. I don't feel that the country is being run perfectly, but I think that policy is again being driven by people who care a bit about research and results more than ideology. Feels good.
I have a chorus concert coming up tomorrow evening. The music selection is better than it has been in a while, so if you live in Austin and like music, there are worse ways you could spend your evening tomorrow night than buying a ticket and attending.
The lineup is:
W.A. Mozart, Missa Brevis
Leonard Bernstein, Chichester Psalms
Haydn, Te Deum
Frank Tichelli, Earth Song
Randall Stroope, Homeland
The last two obviously aren't as well known as the other three. Both of them are a lot more musically simplistic but very emotional sounding. The Tichelli strikes me thematically as sort of a hippy song -- "The shattered earth cries out in vain..." and "Music and singing have been my refuge" and ends with "I'll see peace." It's corny but the music is actually quite nice. And there's a giant PowerPoint presentation over our heads, with pictures of people crying or enjoying themselves, and sunsets and rainbows and things.
Now, the last one, the Stroope, is interesting. It is set to the tune of "Jupiter" in Holst's The Planets. You can hear the original performed here, or a high school chorus singing Stroope here. It does seem to be very much geared towards a high school group, fairly lacking in subtlety and also very patriotic.
Now, typically blunt patriotism turns me off. I like the way Ambrose Bierce described it in The Devil's Dictionary: "In Dr. Johnson's famous dictionary patriotism is defined as the last resort of a scoundrel. With all due respect to an enlightened but inferior lexicographer I beg to submit that it is the first." It's not that there's anything wrong with being proud of your country, and inspired to make it as good as possible. It's just that naked worship of country, as in "My country right or wrong" or "Why do you hate America?" rubs me the wrong way, just as all blind faith would.
But while rehearsing this piece, I've found myself getting choked up a few times. When I analyzed this feeling, I noticed I'm actually feeling more real patriotism than I have in a long time. I don't feel that the country is being run perfectly, but I think that policy is again being driven by people who care a bit about research and results more than ideology. Feels good.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Friday, April 03, 2009
Please format your arguments properly
I enjoy reading email arguments, but they are hard to read if you don't format them the right way. I was going to email this advice as instruction to a friend, but it occurred to me that I should blog it so I never have to write it a second time.
Normally people do not indent their own replies when answering. Instead, they leave the other person's replies indented (with the leading character, like ">" or a vertical line, left in the post) and move the response to the left margin.
The advantage of this system, if both parties stick to it, is that older replies get more indented. It looks like this:
If you are looking for a particular level of the conversation, or only new comments, you can easily see where you are by scanning the text. Try it. (In the above conversation, "I just paid" and "And anyway..." were part of the same email.)
Some people reply to a post by leaving everything at the same indentation level, but setting their replies in a different color, like blue or red. This is fine in principle, as long as there is only one round in the exchange. If it goes longer, then you either have to pick different colors, or else leave everything the same color. If you use the same color, it can become impossible to separate the old red text from the new red text. If you don't use the same color, it forces the reader to check back and figure out which color goes with which message. Needless to say, this can become impossibly confusing in a long exchange.
Normally people do not indent their own replies when answering. Instead, they leave the other person's replies indented (with the leading character, like ">" or a vertical line, left in the post) and move the response to the left margin.
The advantage of this system, if both parties stick to it, is that older replies get more indented. It looks like this:
> > > I told you, I'm not allowed to argue unless you've paid.
> >
> > I just paid!
>
> No you didn't.
I did!
> > And anyway, that was never five minutes just now!
>
> It most certainly was.
No it was not!
If you are looking for a particular level of the conversation, or only new comments, you can easily see where you are by scanning the text. Try it. (In the above conversation, "I just paid" and "And anyway..." were part of the same email.)
Some people reply to a post by leaving everything at the same indentation level, but setting their replies in a different color, like blue or red. This is fine in principle, as long as there is only one round in the exchange. If it goes longer, then you either have to pick different colors, or else leave everything the same color. If you use the same color, it can become impossible to separate the old red text from the new red text. If you don't use the same color, it forces the reader to check back and figure out which color goes with which message. Needless to say, this can become impossibly confusing in a long exchange.
I hope this helps.
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Ayn Rand's weird obsession with a killer
As much as I have come to dislike Ayn Rand, I was initially hesitant to believe this story about her idolization of a murderer. But it seems pretty well sourced.
As revealed in a book of Rand's journals, when she was about 23 she wrote of her admiration for a fellow named William Hickman, who was executed by hanging in 1928. Rand quoted Hickman saying "What is good for me is right," while stating her feeling that this was "The best and strongest expression of a real man's psychology I have heard."
Why was Hickman executed? Well, long story short, it turns out that he kidnapped the twelve year old daughter of a wealthy banker, and sent several taunting ransom notes over the next several days. When the father finally paid the ransom, Hickman returned the girl.
In pieces. He took the money, threw the upper half of her body in the street, and drove away. He then eluded capture for about a week before being taken, tried, convicted, and executed.
Needless to say, Hickman became a deeply unpopular guy... but in recounting the incident, Rand said that the public's hatred was "because of the man who committed the crime and not because of the crime he committed."
She went on to say: "The first thing that impresses me about the case is the ferocious rage of a whole society against one man. No matter what the man did, there is always something loathsome in the 'virtuous' indignation and mass-hatred of the 'majority.'... It is repulsive to see all these beings with worse sins and crimes in their own lives, virtuously condemning a criminal..."
Um, no. Most people don't have worse skeletons in their closet than murdering a little girl, chopping her into pieces, and throwing those pieces at the distraught parent. And it's not loathsome to hate a guy who would do that. I don't know about you, but to suggest that public outrage over a genuinely outrageous act is somehow wrong indicates an extremely backwards ethical system to me.
Also interesting to me is where Rand idolizes his, er, "unconventional" lifestyle choice by denouncing a typical life thus: "What had society to offer him? A wretched, insane family as the ideal home, a Y.M.C.A. club as social honor, and a bank-page job as ambition and career..."
To me this suggests nothing so much as one of those hideous Christian sermons where the preacher proceeds to ridicule and dismiss anything that might serve as contributing value and meaning to a person's life outside the religion. You know... "Human relationships aren't reliable; your friends will abandon you. You'll work for 40 hours a week at a soul crushing job that will leave you feeling empty until you retire, impoverished and alone..." Etc. Nothing gives your life meaning, of course, except Jesus Christ.
It's a profoundly negative message, because many people DO find satisfaction and fulfillment in careers, relationships, hobbies, and other worldly pursuits. But religions do their best to rip that satisfaction away and leave people feeling like they'll be miserable without the current product being sold. I was just reading a few chapters of "The Conquest of Happiness" by Bertrand Russell, in which he praised the possession of a zest for life, finding joy in even the trivial things that you like doing.
Rand's worship of her perceived "superman" always seems to have come at the cost of a certain overall contempt for most of mankind -- who, it seems, are constantly being portrayed as deserving to die in a train wreck, or have their kids murdered by superior men.
As revealed in a book of Rand's journals, when she was about 23 she wrote of her admiration for a fellow named William Hickman, who was executed by hanging in 1928. Rand quoted Hickman saying "What is good for me is right," while stating her feeling that this was "The best and strongest expression of a real man's psychology I have heard."
Why was Hickman executed? Well, long story short, it turns out that he kidnapped the twelve year old daughter of a wealthy banker, and sent several taunting ransom notes over the next several days. When the father finally paid the ransom, Hickman returned the girl.
In pieces. He took the money, threw the upper half of her body in the street, and drove away. He then eluded capture for about a week before being taken, tried, convicted, and executed.
Needless to say, Hickman became a deeply unpopular guy... but in recounting the incident, Rand said that the public's hatred was "because of the man who committed the crime and not because of the crime he committed."
She went on to say: "The first thing that impresses me about the case is the ferocious rage of a whole society against one man. No matter what the man did, there is always something loathsome in the 'virtuous' indignation and mass-hatred of the 'majority.'... It is repulsive to see all these beings with worse sins and crimes in their own lives, virtuously condemning a criminal..."
Um, no. Most people don't have worse skeletons in their closet than murdering a little girl, chopping her into pieces, and throwing those pieces at the distraught parent. And it's not loathsome to hate a guy who would do that. I don't know about you, but to suggest that public outrage over a genuinely outrageous act is somehow wrong indicates an extremely backwards ethical system to me.
Also interesting to me is where Rand idolizes his, er, "unconventional" lifestyle choice by denouncing a typical life thus: "What had society to offer him? A wretched, insane family as the ideal home, a Y.M.C.A. club as social honor, and a bank-page job as ambition and career..."
To me this suggests nothing so much as one of those hideous Christian sermons where the preacher proceeds to ridicule and dismiss anything that might serve as contributing value and meaning to a person's life outside the religion. You know... "Human relationships aren't reliable; your friends will abandon you. You'll work for 40 hours a week at a soul crushing job that will leave you feeling empty until you retire, impoverished and alone..." Etc. Nothing gives your life meaning, of course, except Jesus Christ.
It's a profoundly negative message, because many people DO find satisfaction and fulfillment in careers, relationships, hobbies, and other worldly pursuits. But religions do their best to rip that satisfaction away and leave people feeling like they'll be miserable without the current product being sold. I was just reading a few chapters of "The Conquest of Happiness" by Bertrand Russell, in which he praised the possession of a zest for life, finding joy in even the trivial things that you like doing.
Rand's worship of her perceived "superman" always seems to have come at the cost of a certain overall contempt for most of mankind -- who, it seems, are constantly being portrayed as deserving to die in a train wreck, or have their kids murdered by superior men.
Friday, March 13, 2009
From Russell the Blogger
Just a random observation: lately I've grown very fond of referring to people in conversations as "[First name] the [Occupation]". I started doing it ironically when Joe the Plumber was a running political joke. But now I'm starting to like it. It's useful shorthand for referencing someone who is not known to the audience; it establishes both their name and function. That way I almost never need to answer followup questions about who I'm talking about and why.
Thus, people at work are "Susanne the Analyst," "Gary the Boss," "Yolanda the Carpooler," etc. Then I've got Elliott the Contractor, Dan the Financial Adviser, Calvin the Friend of Ben, and so on.
By the way, be sure to check out my recent post about Ayn the Author. ;)
Oh please don't go
I just read a great story about people who want to "Go John Galt" (like in the book Atlas Shrugged) but appear to be completely unclear of the concept.
This is great comedy, see. At least in Atlas Shrugged, the people who packed up and left society were people who actually did stuff. They made steel, they ran railroads, they were engineers and inventors and manufacturers.
The people who are now saying "Let's leave and they'll all be sorry!" aren't even successful in Randian terms. They're pundits, untalented entertainers, professional bloggers, belief-tank chairmen, and people who make a living by shuffling small green pieces of paper around from one place to another.
Having such people withdraw from society is an empty threat. It's Douglas Adams' B-Ark. For those of you unfamiliar with this story, the planet of Golgafrincham got rid of a useless segment of their population by telling them that the planet was about to be destroyed. They led people to believe that the A-Ark would contain the scientists, inventors, artists, and thinkers; the C-Ark would contain the laborers; and the B-Ark would contain everyone else, such as insurance salesmen and management consultants.
There was no catastrophe. The people supposedly going on A and C arks stayed home, while the B-ark was programmed to crash land.
The people who now fantasize about "going Galt" have an inflated sense of their own importance to society, and few would be upset if they ran off to a similar fate.
None of the people Dr. Helen interviews is actually Going Galt. More to the point, neither is Dr. Helen. She claims to be "mulling over ways that she can "go Galt". Allow me to help her out (along with Michelle Malkin, Glenn Reynolds, et al.) To Go Galt, she should:
(a) Identify those things that she does that are genuinely creative and productive. If there aren't any, then the fact that it will be difficult for her to Go Galt is the least of her problems.
(b) Refuse to do those things in any way that allows society at large, as opposed to a small circle of like-minded individualists, to benefit from them.
It really is that simple. If she and the other bloggers who are calling on people to "Go Galt" don't do this, the only explanations are that they don't have the guts to do what they are encouraging others to do, or that they recognize that nothing they do counts as creative or productive, or that they just aren't thinking about what they write.
This is great comedy, see. At least in Atlas Shrugged, the people who packed up and left society were people who actually did stuff. They made steel, they ran railroads, they were engineers and inventors and manufacturers.
The people who are now saying "Let's leave and they'll all be sorry!" aren't even successful in Randian terms. They're pundits, untalented entertainers, professional bloggers, belief-tank chairmen, and people who make a living by shuffling small green pieces of paper around from one place to another.
Having such people withdraw from society is an empty threat. It's Douglas Adams' B-Ark. For those of you unfamiliar with this story, the planet of Golgafrincham got rid of a useless segment of their population by telling them that the planet was about to be destroyed. They led people to believe that the A-Ark would contain the scientists, inventors, artists, and thinkers; the C-Ark would contain the laborers; and the B-Ark would contain everyone else, such as insurance salesmen and management consultants.
There was no catastrophe. The people supposedly going on A and C arks stayed home, while the B-ark was programmed to crash land.
The people who now fantasize about "going Galt" have an inflated sense of their own importance to society, and few would be upset if they ran off to a similar fate.
Addendum:
While searching for references on this post, I discovered a post from yesterday by someone who had already made exactly the same connection. I thought about killing this post, but hey, great minds think alike.
Thursday, March 05, 2009
The targets of my shameless fanboyism
When I got to thinking about posts I could write on Castles of Air, I got to pondering cool stuff that I like. There aren't a huge number of things that reduce me to shameless fanboy praise; normally I tend to be critical of even things I like. However, there are certain topics where, if someone brings them up, I can't help jumping in and waxing poetic about their sheer awesomeness. In no particular order except for my stream of consciousness, they are:
- Joss Whedon
- George R. R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire
- Douglas Hofstadter's Godel, Escher, Bach
- Douglas Adams
- Back to the Future
- Blizzard Entertainment
- Valve Software
- The Internet
- Web 2.0
- Senator Al Franken
- PZ Myers
- Star Control II
- Steve Meretzky's A Mind Forever Voyaging
- Richard Feynman
- "Weird Al" Yankovic
- Queensryche's Operation: Mindcrime
- Jon Stewart
- Most books by Ken Follett
- Jim Henson
- Chuck Jones
- W.A. Mozart
- Gilbert & Sullivan
- Rachel Maddow
- Portable music devices + Podcasts
...I think that about does it.
Actually there are quite a lot of them, I guess.
Updates
I'm trying not to neglect this blog entirely, so here's a few tidbits for you.
Latest posts on Castles of Air:
Also: Response to Chuck Colson at the Atheist Experience (roughly 8 months in the making)
What's up with me:
I am getting my house ready to sell. It's mostly painted, and my contractor is working on redoing some of the floors this weekend. We had a garage sale this weekend, in which I sold much stuff which originally cost thousands of dollars altogether for 1, 5, or 10 bucks each. It was, um, not fun. Hard work and kind of demoralizing, but the end result (besides a couple hundred bucks to pay the contractor) is that most of the loose stuff that was in my house is now largely gone, organized, or ready to sell to Half Price Books or Craig's List bargain hunters. I guess it's a little liberating.
I'm still holding onto my job in Temple and even sort of liking it. The work is very purpose-driven at the moment: we have a laundry list of short feature requests from a client, and we're working through these with the intent of making them happy, as well as preparing to show off the improvements to a bunch of other buyers. I feel valued professionally, which is a good feeling. That will be confirmed if I get hired full-time in April.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
My newest blog
I've let this blog stagnate for a while, mainly because I've been extremely busy working on the Atheist Experience blog a lot.
Now I've got a new blog which I would like to hype. I just wrote my second post on Castles of Air, which is dedicated to issues focusing on software development. This is intended to be my professional blog. I want to keep it separate from the other two blogs, because I would like to be able to show it to professional colleagues without worrying about mixing in my feelings about politics or religion.
This will probably make me post here even less often, since programming and other nerdy stuff were topics that I used to discuss on Kazim's Korner. However, since my professional blog has no followers yet, I will make a habit of putting a link from here to each post that I make on Castles of Air. But don't rely I hope that will help to improve traffic flow of both this blog and CoA. The other blog is of course a nerdy endeavor, but computers are everywhere in our lives, and even non-programmers might be interested in looking inside the process.
My first two posts:
Friday, January 23, 2009
Fish in a barrel: another look at Conservapedia
In my estimation, the sort of far-right people who are drawn to something like Conservapedia, similar to Christian homeschoolers, are characterized mainly by a resentment of authoritative knowledge. The whole notion that some people know more than other people about stuff, unless the source is a personal revelation from a higher power, is anathema. This permeates everything they think about. The media is a vast conspiracy to bring down good, decent men like GWB. Scientists are priests of Satan whose primary goal is to undermine God's word. Public schools are instruments of evil to get to your kids. The entire frakkin' world is run from the shadows by Scary Foreigner George Soros, or minions laying the groundwork for Antichrist -- the two of which are not mutually exclusive. Etc.
Nobody except a trusted religious leader has the right to tell you what to think. Evidence that stands in contradiction to your point of view can be safely disregarded, because the people with the authority of being educated wield awesome power and they are thoroughly skilled at trying to trick you. The only way to avoid falling under their sway is to skip straight to your faith, so you can bypass learning things.
Wikipedia may be kind of a mess, but my observation is that most prominent articles tend to converge to a consensus over time. This is because Wikipedia has smart standards in place requiring credible sources and authorizing the deletion of agreed nonsense. It's not perfect, but the major articles on scientific and historical topics tend to be a mostly reliable starting point to learn the subject.
Conservapedia was started explicitly because they hate that consensus. Consensus without a divine authority means that The Conspiracy now controls it. It doesn't mean that there are "right" answers that can be determined through analysis; it means that the evil people who are everywhere have managed to crowd out dissent.
So on those occasions when I've read articles on Conservapedia, it hasn't surprised me at all to find that the text of the articles were a patchwork of contradictory opinions, while the comments sections were all flame wars. There's no way to resolve these flame wars, because their opinions are guided by their faith.
Here's a perfect illustration: the discussion page for Evolution.
Oh sure, the page fails to actually convey any useful information, but who gives a damn? The Panel Has Spoken. As much as they are opposed to Authority, they still love Authoritarianism, because their faith guides them to The Truth. Lower on this page, you'll find a hilarious discussion about the main picture at the top of the evolution page, which was Hitler. It's Godwin's Law invoked without a trace of irony. The "reasonable" contributions to this discussion came from those who objected that, sure, obviously evolution caused the holocaust, but wouldn't a picture of Darwin be slightly more representative?
I read their evolution page in the early days of Conservapedia, and it was obvious what was going on: There were a small minority of people who, though conservative, accepted mainstream science; they got in pissing matches with the swarms of young earthers, old earthers, and intelligent designers, all of whom also disagree with each other. Without a reliable reference to go back to, the only standard is who can be the most persistent pain in the ass about making their preferred changes stick.
So now the guy with the biggest stick, the Conservapedia Panel, decides that they should just go ahead and trump all the arguments only by declaring fiat victory -- even while they're admitting that the final product fails to even adequately explain the subject.
But you want to know something even funnier? If you go back to the front page, you'll find that Evolution was selected as their Article of the Year. That's actually the best thing they have.
Nobody except a trusted religious leader has the right to tell you what to think. Evidence that stands in contradiction to your point of view can be safely disregarded, because the people with the authority of being educated wield awesome power and they are thoroughly skilled at trying to trick you. The only way to avoid falling under their sway is to skip straight to your faith, so you can bypass learning things.
Wikipedia may be kind of a mess, but my observation is that most prominent articles tend to converge to a consensus over time. This is because Wikipedia has smart standards in place requiring credible sources and authorizing the deletion of agreed nonsense. It's not perfect, but the major articles on scientific and historical topics tend to be a mostly reliable starting point to learn the subject.
Conservapedia was started explicitly because they hate that consensus. Consensus without a divine authority means that The Conspiracy now controls it. It doesn't mean that there are "right" answers that can be determined through analysis; it means that the evil people who are everywhere have managed to crowd out dissent.
So on those occasions when I've read articles on Conservapedia, it hasn't surprised me at all to find that the text of the articles were a patchwork of contradictory opinions, while the comments sections were all flame wars. There's no way to resolve these flame wars, because their opinions are guided by their faith.
Here's a perfect illustration: the discussion page for Evolution.
"After much debate, the Conservapedia Panel has finished reviewing the Theory of Evolution page. We have determined that the article will remain protected indefinitely, to protect it from inevitable vandalism. We have decided that the article will not be changed in any major way. However, we agree that the article lacks an adequate, concise explanation of the Theory of Evolution."
Oh sure, the page fails to actually convey any useful information, but who gives a damn? The Panel Has Spoken. As much as they are opposed to Authority, they still love Authoritarianism, because their faith guides them to The Truth. Lower on this page, you'll find a hilarious discussion about the main picture at the top of the evolution page, which was Hitler. It's Godwin's Law invoked without a trace of irony. The "reasonable" contributions to this discussion came from those who objected that, sure, obviously evolution caused the holocaust, but wouldn't a picture of Darwin be slightly more representative?
I read their evolution page in the early days of Conservapedia, and it was obvious what was going on: There were a small minority of people who, though conservative, accepted mainstream science; they got in pissing matches with the swarms of young earthers, old earthers, and intelligent designers, all of whom also disagree with each other. Without a reliable reference to go back to, the only standard is who can be the most persistent pain in the ass about making their preferred changes stick.
So now the guy with the biggest stick, the Conservapedia Panel, decides that they should just go ahead and trump all the arguments only by declaring fiat victory -- even while they're admitting that the final product fails to even adequately explain the subject.
But you want to know something even funnier? If you go back to the front page, you'll find that Evolution was selected as their Article of the Year. That's actually the best thing they have.
This is not the Bush Administration
The White House has a blog.
With a guy who's a technology expert.
They're using it to, like, communicate stuff.
About policy.
It's been updated several times already in the few days it's been up.
And they're encouraging feedback.
Happy.
With a guy who's a technology expert.
They're using it to, like, communicate stuff.
About policy.
It's been updated several times already in the few days it's been up.
And they're encouraging feedback.
Happy.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Comedy of coding errors
Nerd alert. You will probably enjoy this post if and only if you are a fellow programmer.
There's a fair amount of horrible legacy code here at my new company. It is nobody's fault -- apparently it was written by an intern at another company, then bought by my company. Which is great, because I can loudly ridicule this code without fear of offending anyone. My cubicle-mate is the senior Java developer. Together, the two of us ARE the entire Java team right now; other people here are coding a little bit of Java, but we're the experts and the commerce project is owned exclusively by us.
I ran into a beautifully horrifying bit of code today. First it gathers a list of objects from a table. Then it iterates over each object, seeing whether the object is "authorized"... and then it removes the object from the array. Not only is this inefficient to begin with -- they should have just filtered out the unauthorized objects in the original query -- but they keep rearranging the entire array every time an object is removed. Like this:
1 2 3 4 5
(object 2 is unauthorized)
1 3 4 5
Obviously this runs in O(n^2) time, when it could easily run in O(n) time just by adding a second array.
Wait, it gets worse. I'm trying to fix it, and I realize the same code that kicks out unauthorized objects appears to be in there TWICE... it's iterating over the array twice and doing approximately the same thing each time. I don't know why, but it appears to have something to do with the magic number "50" that keeps showing up in the code. As in:
Dear God, WHY? What does 50 mean? I don't know, the code doesn't give me a clue. You would think 50 is something arbitrary like the number of items displayed per page, but no... only 12 items are displayed per page. ARGH ARGH ARGH ARGH ARGH.
The bright side is that I don't think I've actually had to solve a genuine programming logic puzzle in like this for many months -- I can't remember a single example at DMi. This is fun! When I'm done, the code will run much faster. And there's probably hundreds of examples of this crummy design lurking around, waiting to be fixed.
Yay job security!
There's a fair amount of horrible legacy code here at my new company. It is nobody's fault -- apparently it was written by an intern at another company, then bought by my company. Which is great, because I can loudly ridicule this code without fear of offending anyone. My cubicle-mate is the senior Java developer. Together, the two of us ARE the entire Java team right now; other people here are coding a little bit of Java, but we're the experts and the commerce project is owned exclusively by us.
I ran into a beautifully horrifying bit of code today. First it gathers a list of objects from a table. Then it iterates over each object, seeing whether the object is "authorized"... and then it removes the object from the array. Not only is this inefficient to begin with -- they should have just filtered out the unauthorized objects in the original query -- but they keep rearranging the entire array every time an object is removed. Like this:
1 2 3 4 5
(object 2 is unauthorized)
1 3 4 5
Obviously this runs in O(n^2) time, when it could easily run in O(n) time just by adding a second array.
Wait, it gets worse. I'm trying to fix it, and I realize the same code that kicks out unauthorized objects appears to be in there TWICE... it's iterating over the array twice and doing approximately the same thing each time. I don't know why, but it appears to have something to do with the magic number "50" that keeps showing up in the code. As in:
for (all items) {
if (curItem < 50) {
do one thing
}
}
for (all items) {
if (curItem > 50) {
do almost the same thing, but slightly different
}
}
Dear God, WHY? What does 50 mean? I don't know, the code doesn't give me a clue. You would think 50 is something arbitrary like the number of items displayed per page, but no... only 12 items are displayed per page. ARGH ARGH ARGH ARGH ARGH.
The bright side is that I don't think I've actually had to solve a genuine programming logic puzzle in like this for many months -- I can't remember a single example at DMi. This is fun! When I'm done, the code will run much faster. And there's probably hundreds of examples of this crummy design lurking around, waiting to be fixed.
Yay job security!
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
A compressed big update
"Let me esplain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up." - Inigo Montoya
There are some things I haven't aired out on this blog because I don't like to use this as a forum for complaining. But now that there's a surprising amount of good news, I'm back with some updates.
After getting my Master's in December, I got laid off not once, but twice. When my contract-to-hire came up on six months at Digital Motorworks, I was told that there was a hiring freeze. They extended my contract hoping to pick me up in December, but then the economy crashed.
I spent a bit over two months unemployed, and it was somewhat scary. I started a new job Monday, though. It's an interesting company, privately owned by one of the few hundred richest men in America. He personally works in the office, (and manages the pro baseball team that he also owns) but I haven't met him yet.
The job has its ups and downs. I'm doing Java Enterprise development, which is something I've wanted to do a lot more of. So far I really like the people I work with directly, and I've already started solving a number of problems after just two days. The work promises to be fairly exciting in a nerdy kind of way, as I may get a lot of creative control over a large commercial web application. And the pay's better than what I was making before.
On the other hand, the office is a remarkably conservative environment. It's the first place I've ever worked as a programmer where there has been a dress code -- business casual, no jeans allowed any day of the week. There's a long commute, but I was issued a fairly awesome high end company laptop on the first day and allowed to take it home. It's said that after I've worked for about a month or so, I'll get to telecommute most days. The senior developer on my team of two also lives in Austin, so we might carpool or get together locally.
Many of the other techies are fairly affable, including my boss. The building is also populated by an awful lot of ex-military guys, as the bulk of the business is about managing military supply chains. (My division is much smaller, and our software app handles commercial retail).
Also, as I obliquely mentioned in my wedding speech, Ginny and I are divorcing. It's on good terms. We had some tension for a while, but I think that situation has eased up a lot since both Ginny and I got employed. Ginny even told me she got a promotion yesterday, which is great news. Ben is handling it well, he's doing excellently in school and is coping gracefully with being in day care for the first time. He's an incredible reader. I hope I'm not overstepping my bounds if I say I think both Ginny and I now see our change as a mutually agreeable one. We've both had dates, which is a fun hobby to be taking up again, but... well, a gentlemen doesn't tell.
Actually, he does, frequently, but not on this blog. If you're one of the select circle who gets to know my private life, you've probably already heard. If not, it's none of your business. ;)
Yesterday was probably the best day I've had in months -- I'm working, it's fulfilling, I'm social. I'm hosting the TV show once a month instead of cohosting. Also, as you might imagine, I enjoy most political news these days. Al Franken appears to have won his race, although there may still be some legal squabbles. Barack Obama will be president in under two weeks. Yay!
There are some things I haven't aired out on this blog because I don't like to use this as a forum for complaining. But now that there's a surprising amount of good news, I'm back with some updates.
After getting my Master's in December, I got laid off not once, but twice. When my contract-to-hire came up on six months at Digital Motorworks, I was told that there was a hiring freeze. They extended my contract hoping to pick me up in December, but then the economy crashed.
I spent a bit over two months unemployed, and it was somewhat scary. I started a new job Monday, though. It's an interesting company, privately owned by one of the few hundred richest men in America. He personally works in the office, (and manages the pro baseball team that he also owns) but I haven't met him yet.
The job has its ups and downs. I'm doing Java Enterprise development, which is something I've wanted to do a lot more of. So far I really like the people I work with directly, and I've already started solving a number of problems after just two days. The work promises to be fairly exciting in a nerdy kind of way, as I may get a lot of creative control over a large commercial web application. And the pay's better than what I was making before.
On the other hand, the office is a remarkably conservative environment. It's the first place I've ever worked as a programmer where there has been a dress code -- business casual, no jeans allowed any day of the week. There's a long commute, but I was issued a fairly awesome high end company laptop on the first day and allowed to take it home. It's said that after I've worked for about a month or so, I'll get to telecommute most days. The senior developer on my team of two also lives in Austin, so we might carpool or get together locally.
Many of the other techies are fairly affable, including my boss. The building is also populated by an awful lot of ex-military guys, as the bulk of the business is about managing military supply chains. (My division is much smaller, and our software app handles commercial retail).
Also, as I obliquely mentioned in my wedding speech, Ginny and I are divorcing. It's on good terms. We had some tension for a while, but I think that situation has eased up a lot since both Ginny and I got employed. Ginny even told me she got a promotion yesterday, which is great news. Ben is handling it well, he's doing excellently in school and is coping gracefully with being in day care for the first time. He's an incredible reader. I hope I'm not overstepping my bounds if I say I think both Ginny and I now see our change as a mutually agreeable one. We've both had dates, which is a fun hobby to be taking up again, but... well, a gentlemen doesn't tell.
Actually, he does, frequently, but not on this blog. If you're one of the select circle who gets to know my private life, you've probably already heard. If not, it's none of your business. ;)
Yesterday was probably the best day I've had in months -- I'm working, it's fulfilling, I'm social. I'm hosting the TV show once a month instead of cohosting. Also, as you might imagine, I enjoy most political news these days. Al Franken appears to have won his race, although there may still be some legal squabbles. Barack Obama will be president in under two weeks. Yay!
Monday, December 08, 2008
Speech for Keryn's wedding
Mawidge!
Mawidge is a dweam wiffin a dweam!
Some of you aren't laughing, but that's okay. It's probably because you have never seen "The Princess Bride" or read the book. And if you haven't seen the movie, then you obviously didn't grow up with Keryn and me, because one of us would have strapped you down and forced you to.
You see, my relationship to Keryn, like my relationship to many members of my friends and family, is largely defined by the entertainment that we have shared. We both love musicals, and cheesy melodramas, and fantasy movies. We have seen so many of the same movies, and played so many of the same games, that now I usually just have to say one single phrase to make her break down laughing.
To give you an idea of what new friends have to go through, Keryn has a neighbor named Charity, a young woman who recently turned 18. In the few years that Keryn has known her, she's forced her to watch a variety of stuff ranging from "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" to "Fraggle Rock" to the musical episode of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer". It's part of the cultural background of knowing us, and there WILL be a test later. If I say "Imagine you're a deer..." then you'd better be prepared to sit still for several minutes while Keryn reproduces Marisa Tomei's entire screechy diatribe about animal rights from "My Cousin Vinny." The only way to cut her off is to jump to the punchline and yell it first, so she can't get more mileage out of the rest of the speech.
That's the kind of relationship I have with my little sister, and I love her very much, even though she is, like all sisters, a little nuts. Let me tell you how nuts she is. Keryn asked me to serve as the Badchan for her wedding reception. Now unlike Keryn, I am a terrible Jew, I barely even knew what a Badchan is. She told me, but I forgot. So I did what any nerd of the information age would do: I looked it up on Wikipedia, which we all know is always 100% accurate and perfectly infallible. Wikipedia says that a badchan is "a joker or clown, who traditionally entertains before and after Ashkenazic Jewish weddings." Riiiiight. At least I figured out how to PRONOUNCE Ashkenazic.
But when I heard that Keryn wanted me to present a major speech for her wedding, naturally my first reaction was, "Are you insane? You know what I'll have to say about marriage right now, don't you???" As she knows very well, I'm in the process of a divorce, and I've been living in Keryn and Michael's guest room since late July. In fact, it was kind of a running joke for me, because several couples I knew appeared to break up within a few weeks of each other. So I speculated that I am the carrier of some kind of rare virus that destroys long-term relationships. I told my theory to Keryn, and she didn't miss a beat. "GET OUT!" were her exact words.
Yet somehow, even after Keryn and Michael have been exposed to my virus every single day for five months, they're still getting married. Ask me why. Go on, ask the divorced guy how to make a successful marriage.
Well, I don't know. How well do I really know Michael? After living with the guy for several months I should know him better than anyone else in my family does, but Michael is a remarkably hard guy to get to know. I mean, here's a typical example of an exchange with Michael, when I used to come home from work and he was watching TV.
Me: "Hi Michael!"
Michael (mumbling): "Uh."
Are they together because they share the same set of values and beliefs? Um, well, you tell me. One of Keryn's many endearing features is that she's a vegan. Not a vegetarian, mind you. Vegetarians don't eat meat but they can eat eggs, milk, and sometimes even fish. Vegans don't eat or use any animal products. And Keryn, because she is against any exploitation of animals, won't eat Jell-o because it contains traces of boiled animal bones -- no really, look it up. She has to ask for details about french fries because sometimes they are cooked in the same oil as other food including meat. She won't TOUCH anyone wearing leather, and she is at least somewhat squeamish about honey. Because of the captive bees, you know.
So Michael comes home one day with a bag from Whataburger, containing... a TRIPLE cheeseburger. Now I'm an enthusiastic carnivore myself, but even I feel like going into coronary arrest just from LOOKING at that much meat in one place. Michael doesn't just want to eat this massive thing, though... he makes a point of sitting in front of my sister and going (lip smacking) "Mmmmmm, this is so good!" Keryn just loves that, I'm sure.
Actually, though, it's not true that I haven't learned anything at all about my new brother-in-law from living with him. Michael has a great sense of humor. At least I THINK he does. Quite honestly, it's often impossible to tell whether he's joking or not, because Michael's style of humor is completely deadpan. He doesn't care whether you get the joke or not. He's like Andy Kaufman: he is happy just to entertain himself. Let me show you what I mean.
I went to a Round Rock Express baseball game with my son Ben, and Keryn and Michael, and a friend of ours named Andi. Andi is a woman who just loves sports of all kinds. Takes them very seriously. Keryn and I grew up in a non-sports household, so Keryn had to ask about the rules. Yes, she didn't know the rules of BASEBALL. Even I know how baseball works. Michael explained the rules in a way that, to me, was very obviously wrong. Only he didn't do it with a smile or a wink or a sarcastic tone of voice. He just told her very directly about the role of the halfback and the center guard and whatever. Finally when he got tired of answering questions, he told her "I'll tell you more at halftime."
Later, Andi pulled me aside. She was fuming. She asked "Did you hear what he said? He'll tell her at halftime. Halftime! THERE'S NO HALFTIME IN BASEBALL!" I paused for a moment and then said "Um... Michael was joking. At least I THINK he was." But Andi insisted: "No, I heard his tone of voice. He wasn't joking. He's completely serious. He has no idea what he is talking about."
Now I thought I understood Michael's personality well enough to see through the delivery, but she actually managed to make me doubt him. So I finally had to ask him: "Hey Michael... you really were kidding when you were talking about halftime in baseball... right??" And finally Michael's facade cracked, and he grinned real wide at me. Yes, of course he was joking. But if I hadn't asked him, I think he would have been just as pleased with himself if no one got the joke.
What do Keryn and Michael see in each other? Keryn drags Michael to dance lessons, and Michael goes along with it. Michael decides to join a country club, so he can, I don't know, play golf and wear a monocle and say "I say, let's have dinner and cognac at the club tonight." Keryn goes to the club.
These are two people who like to share life experiences. Okay, fine, so they're DIFFERENT life experiences. So what? To some extent they are both very open people, who will go along and try new things just to be participating in an activity together. They scuba dive. They watch reality cooking shows. I don't think Michael really likes Renaissance Faires, but I'm betting he went along with Keryn only because she agreed to make out with another girl in costume... oh yes you did! Now the story's out!
And they both love cats. BOY do they love cats. It's a good thing that Keryn is getting married, because it prevents her from being the crazy single lady with a house full of cats. These two poor kids had to cope with the death of not one but two cats in just the last few months. I feel very sad for them, they were wonderful cats... but now they're still left with six. And you know, I was surprised when Michael was hit just as hard emotionally by the losses as Keryn was. Sometimes Michael masks his emotions so well that I didn't realize he loves his own cats so fiercely.
The truth is, I am grateful to have Michael and Keryn in my life -- not least because of their overwhelming generosity in letting me stay at their place while I am still paying mortgage on a house that I'm not currently living in. Also, as I've struggled to settle into a job that will make the best use of my Masters Degree, Michael has been a great help in giving me interviewing tips. Of course, some of his tips involve the creative use of exaggeration... which is actually a polite way of saying "He told me to lie more often." In all seriousness, Michael knows how to get and keep a job, and he really helped to change my perspective. I realize now, more than I used to, that job interviews are just as much about showmanship and presentation as they are about raw technical knowledge. I am a better person for his advice.
And while I used to think that Michael maybe didn't like kids, he's warmed up to my son Ben in some surprising ways. Part of it is the annoying way that he tells Ben to steal candy from the cabinet when I'm not looking. But Michael also recently learned some magic tricks and spent a solid chunk of time using Ben as his guinea pig audience. Ben actually bonded with Michael a little bit. Don't worry, though, I'm not very threatened by a potential hostile takeover yet.
I'll admit that there have always been periods of time when my sister drove me crazy. But also, she's sent me a lot of pictures of us two as kids together. When you look at those pictures, you would think that there was never a time when I wasn't reading to her, or she wasn't hugging me, or we weren't having a great time being in each other's company. When Keryn was born, I used to wonder whether she would ever learn to talk. When she was three, I used to wonder whether she would ever stop. But after all the things I can see we shared together -- trips to Disneyworld, and completing enormous 3D jigsaw puzzles, and skiing trips -- I guess I have to accept that we loved each other a lot, and still do.
And Michael? Well, he's not Jewish. I don't care -- did I mention that I'm a very bad Jew? Like Tevye, I'm supposed to be offended that Keryn is marrying some goy. But I'm not. I suppose it's lucky for us that we have no surviving relatives in attendance who would really care about keeping the blood pure. Besides, did you know? The name "Hawthorne" actually comes the Yiddish word "Khaw-torn-im" -- which means "people who really love reality cooking shows." So Hawthorne, Jewish. There you go.
[Side note: Keryn's pre-wedding festivities included renting a theater to watch "My Big Fat Greek Wedding," and anyone who saw that will get the reference.]
In sitcom parlance, I now have a wacky brother-in-law, and there are worse things to have. So I wish Keryn and Michael the best success in keeping their marriage alive, and I hope you have a great trip to Fiji. You lucky dogs.
Mawidge is a dweam wiffin a dweam!
Some of you aren't laughing, but that's okay. It's probably because you have never seen "The Princess Bride" or read the book. And if you haven't seen the movie, then you obviously didn't grow up with Keryn and me, because one of us would have strapped you down and forced you to.
You see, my relationship to Keryn, like my relationship to many members of my friends and family, is largely defined by the entertainment that we have shared. We both love musicals, and cheesy melodramas, and fantasy movies. We have seen so many of the same movies, and played so many of the same games, that now I usually just have to say one single phrase to make her break down laughing.
To give you an idea of what new friends have to go through, Keryn has a neighbor named Charity, a young woman who recently turned 18. In the few years that Keryn has known her, she's forced her to watch a variety of stuff ranging from "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" to "Fraggle Rock" to the musical episode of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer". It's part of the cultural background of knowing us, and there WILL be a test later. If I say "Imagine you're a deer..." then you'd better be prepared to sit still for several minutes while Keryn reproduces Marisa Tomei's entire screechy diatribe about animal rights from "My Cousin Vinny." The only way to cut her off is to jump to the punchline and yell it first, so she can't get more mileage out of the rest of the speech.
That's the kind of relationship I have with my little sister, and I love her very much, even though she is, like all sisters, a little nuts. Let me tell you how nuts she is. Keryn asked me to serve as the Badchan for her wedding reception. Now unlike Keryn, I am a terrible Jew, I barely even knew what a Badchan is. She told me, but I forgot. So I did what any nerd of the information age would do: I looked it up on Wikipedia, which we all know is always 100% accurate and perfectly infallible. Wikipedia says that a badchan is "a joker or clown, who traditionally entertains before and after Ashkenazic Jewish weddings." Riiiiight. At least I figured out how to PRONOUNCE Ashkenazic.
But when I heard that Keryn wanted me to present a major speech for her wedding, naturally my first reaction was, "Are you insane? You know what I'll have to say about marriage right now, don't you???" As she knows very well, I'm in the process of a divorce, and I've been living in Keryn and Michael's guest room since late July. In fact, it was kind of a running joke for me, because several couples I knew appeared to break up within a few weeks of each other. So I speculated that I am the carrier of some kind of rare virus that destroys long-term relationships. I told my theory to Keryn, and she didn't miss a beat. "GET OUT!" were her exact words.
Yet somehow, even after Keryn and Michael have been exposed to my virus every single day for five months, they're still getting married. Ask me why. Go on, ask the divorced guy how to make a successful marriage.
Well, I don't know. How well do I really know Michael? After living with the guy for several months I should know him better than anyone else in my family does, but Michael is a remarkably hard guy to get to know. I mean, here's a typical example of an exchange with Michael, when I used to come home from work and he was watching TV.
Me: "Hi Michael!"
Michael (mumbling): "Uh."
Are they together because they share the same set of values and beliefs? Um, well, you tell me. One of Keryn's many endearing features is that she's a vegan. Not a vegetarian, mind you. Vegetarians don't eat meat but they can eat eggs, milk, and sometimes even fish. Vegans don't eat or use any animal products. And Keryn, because she is against any exploitation of animals, won't eat Jell-o because it contains traces of boiled animal bones -- no really, look it up. She has to ask for details about french fries because sometimes they are cooked in the same oil as other food including meat. She won't TOUCH anyone wearing leather, and she is at least somewhat squeamish about honey. Because of the captive bees, you know.
So Michael comes home one day with a bag from Whataburger, containing... a TRIPLE cheeseburger. Now I'm an enthusiastic carnivore myself, but even I feel like going into coronary arrest just from LOOKING at that much meat in one place. Michael doesn't just want to eat this massive thing, though... he makes a point of sitting in front of my sister and going (lip smacking) "Mmmmmm, this is so good!" Keryn just loves that, I'm sure.
Actually, though, it's not true that I haven't learned anything at all about my new brother-in-law from living with him. Michael has a great sense of humor. At least I THINK he does. Quite honestly, it's often impossible to tell whether he's joking or not, because Michael's style of humor is completely deadpan. He doesn't care whether you get the joke or not. He's like Andy Kaufman: he is happy just to entertain himself. Let me show you what I mean.
I went to a Round Rock Express baseball game with my son Ben, and Keryn and Michael, and a friend of ours named Andi. Andi is a woman who just loves sports of all kinds. Takes them very seriously. Keryn and I grew up in a non-sports household, so Keryn had to ask about the rules. Yes, she didn't know the rules of BASEBALL. Even I know how baseball works. Michael explained the rules in a way that, to me, was very obviously wrong. Only he didn't do it with a smile or a wink or a sarcastic tone of voice. He just told her very directly about the role of the halfback and the center guard and whatever. Finally when he got tired of answering questions, he told her "I'll tell you more at halftime."
Later, Andi pulled me aside. She was fuming. She asked "Did you hear what he said? He'll tell her at halftime. Halftime! THERE'S NO HALFTIME IN BASEBALL!" I paused for a moment and then said "Um... Michael was joking. At least I THINK he was." But Andi insisted: "No, I heard his tone of voice. He wasn't joking. He's completely serious. He has no idea what he is talking about."
Now I thought I understood Michael's personality well enough to see through the delivery, but she actually managed to make me doubt him. So I finally had to ask him: "Hey Michael... you really were kidding when you were talking about halftime in baseball... right??" And finally Michael's facade cracked, and he grinned real wide at me. Yes, of course he was joking. But if I hadn't asked him, I think he would have been just as pleased with himself if no one got the joke.
What do Keryn and Michael see in each other? Keryn drags Michael to dance lessons, and Michael goes along with it. Michael decides to join a country club, so he can, I don't know, play golf and wear a monocle and say "I say, let's have dinner and cognac at the club tonight." Keryn goes to the club.
These are two people who like to share life experiences. Okay, fine, so they're DIFFERENT life experiences. So what? To some extent they are both very open people, who will go along and try new things just to be participating in an activity together. They scuba dive. They watch reality cooking shows. I don't think Michael really likes Renaissance Faires, but I'm betting he went along with Keryn only because she agreed to make out with another girl in costume... oh yes you did! Now the story's out!
And they both love cats. BOY do they love cats. It's a good thing that Keryn is getting married, because it prevents her from being the crazy single lady with a house full of cats. These two poor kids had to cope with the death of not one but two cats in just the last few months. I feel very sad for them, they were wonderful cats... but now they're still left with six. And you know, I was surprised when Michael was hit just as hard emotionally by the losses as Keryn was. Sometimes Michael masks his emotions so well that I didn't realize he loves his own cats so fiercely.
The truth is, I am grateful to have Michael and Keryn in my life -- not least because of their overwhelming generosity in letting me stay at their place while I am still paying mortgage on a house that I'm not currently living in. Also, as I've struggled to settle into a job that will make the best use of my Masters Degree, Michael has been a great help in giving me interviewing tips. Of course, some of his tips involve the creative use of exaggeration... which is actually a polite way of saying "He told me to lie more often." In all seriousness, Michael knows how to get and keep a job, and he really helped to change my perspective. I realize now, more than I used to, that job interviews are just as much about showmanship and presentation as they are about raw technical knowledge. I am a better person for his advice.
And while I used to think that Michael maybe didn't like kids, he's warmed up to my son Ben in some surprising ways. Part of it is the annoying way that he tells Ben to steal candy from the cabinet when I'm not looking. But Michael also recently learned some magic tricks and spent a solid chunk of time using Ben as his guinea pig audience. Ben actually bonded with Michael a little bit. Don't worry, though, I'm not very threatened by a potential hostile takeover yet.
I'll admit that there have always been periods of time when my sister drove me crazy. But also, she's sent me a lot of pictures of us two as kids together. When you look at those pictures, you would think that there was never a time when I wasn't reading to her, or she wasn't hugging me, or we weren't having a great time being in each other's company. When Keryn was born, I used to wonder whether she would ever learn to talk. When she was three, I used to wonder whether she would ever stop. But after all the things I can see we shared together -- trips to Disneyworld, and completing enormous 3D jigsaw puzzles, and skiing trips -- I guess I have to accept that we loved each other a lot, and still do.
And Michael? Well, he's not Jewish. I don't care -- did I mention that I'm a very bad Jew? Like Tevye, I'm supposed to be offended that Keryn is marrying some goy. But I'm not. I suppose it's lucky for us that we have no surviving relatives in attendance who would really care about keeping the blood pure. Besides, did you know? The name "Hawthorne" actually comes the Yiddish word "Khaw-torn-im" -- which means "people who really love reality cooking shows." So Hawthorne, Jewish. There you go.
[Side note: Keryn's pre-wedding festivities included renting a theater to watch "My Big Fat Greek Wedding," and anyone who saw that will get the reference.]
In sitcom parlance, I now have a wacky brother-in-law, and there are worse things to have. So I wish Keryn and Michael the best success in keeping their marriage alive, and I hope you have a great trip to Fiji. You lucky dogs.
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