Wednesday, May 18, 2011

The unbearable lightness of being Mitt Romney

The 1988 film The Unbearable Lightness of Being shows life behind the Iron Curtain, during and after the Prague Spring of 1968.  The dramatic tension in the story comes from Tomas' (the main character's) inability to change his psyche when dealing with other people.  This naturally causes him no end of complications with his wife, but no less trouble with the Communist authorities.  While well educated and privileged in his country, be cannot change and play the political game that it would take for him to have a comfortable life.  Basically, he is true to himself in rejecting the "go along to get along" that he needs.

Mitt Romney is, in a sense, the mirror image to this.  His entire life has embodied the "go along to get along" dynamic.  As a result of this (as well as his own privileged upbringing and admitted intelligence and drive) he has advanced to be the CEO of companies, the Governor of a State, and a candidate for President.

But as with Tomas, he cannot change his spots, either.  And therein lies his trouble.

Mitt Romney represents the Technocratic Elite.  He is similar to another famous technocrat from an earlier age, Herbert Hoover.  A graduate of Stanford, Hoover became a mining engineer and (as a civilian) guided the Marines to save the American community trapped in Tianjin in the Chinese Boxer rebellion.  Personally honorable, as he later put it his "first time with greatness" involved chasing former President Benjamin Harrison who had failed to pay admission to a Stanford baseball game.

Of course, Hoover was not a successful President.  While not the disaster that liberal teachers (redundancy alert) make him out to be - to make Roosevelt look greater in contrast - nobody can claim Hoover's administration to be a success.  You see, the technocrats had no solution to the troubles of the day.  Like Tomas in the story, and Romney today, Hoover could not change his technocratic spots, either.

Romney's problem is that the credibility of the Elite has collapsed.  Indeed, the technocratic institutions that dominated the post-war period are all sagging.  The idea that the "Best Thinkers" can think up solutions to the problems of the day seems quaint, a relic of the Father Knows Best television era.  The idea that the modern Academy produces the best thinkers is enough to make you laugh:
The Instapundit has been thrashing the higher education bubble meme for this little while, most recently lining to a longish piece in New York Magazine, The University Has No Clothes.  As you, Dear Reader, will be aware if you’ve been paying attention the Buckethead clan is homeschooling its youngins.  So the idea of college and education and assorted issues is important to us.  I have mixed feelings about college education.  It is in theory capable of providing the sort of knowledge that simply cannot be gotten any other way.  And we all like to think of it that way.  But the reality is something more akin to a four to seven year long, savagely, offensively expensive binger with a light frosting of vocational training and (for the lucky or skilled) a creamy filling of consequence- and moral-free sex.  At the end, you are tossed into the world with a credential of dubious and rapidly diminishing value and a mortgage for an expensive house you can’t live in or sell.
The problem is that two generations of increasingly entitled Academics have used the Universities as a public cash cow to be milked for their own psychological and material benefit, and the public has noticed:
Part of the growing disrespect for—and ambivalence toward—higher education is a result of the slackening of academic standards and the proliferation of college course and degree offerings in subjects viewed (fairly or unfairly) as frivolous by the public. Part is bred by familiarity; as more and more adults have had at least some college education, they have less reason to view universities with the reverence inspired by the unknown and unattainable. Part of the disrespect is fostered by the higher education establishment itself, which by means of “adjunctification” has made work for professional academics insecure and unrewarding. And part of the disrespect stems from academics themselves, who have helped to dismantle (for good and for ill) the aura that once surrounded their profession by, for example, dressing more and more like their students.
The intersection of out of control University costs with tightening State budgets is showing the contempt of the Universities for the public exchequer: when budget cuts are mooted because the public does not see enough value in the current University, the response of the Education Authorities is to propose eliminating the Computer Science department.

And this is the Technocratic Elite that is supposed to lead us?  Even assuming an elite that did not assume a droit du seigneur to rape chambermaids, or that many of the academic credentials of governmental officials are bogus, today's public simply won't buy the notion that the "right sort" of "smart" people are fit to lead.

And Mitt Romney pretty much represents the Technocratic Elite.  The Wall Street Journal's brutal description of Romney as "Obama's running mate" hits quite close to home.  Not because of the similarities between ObamaCare and RomneyCare, but is a shared world view that society can and should be lead by a technocratic elite.

Like Tomas in The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Romney can't change who he is.  But he's the opposite of Tomas, willing to go along to get along, as long as society gets nudged in the right direction by the right people.

Stick a fork in the Romney campaign.  It's done.

Nerd Guns

Not here, over at Nerdgun, musings and postings from Jeremy Chan as he works his way through Gunsmith school.

I'm nowhere qualified to comment on his work, but it looks pretty dang interesting.  And it's not just firearms - the case hardened wedding band that he made for his brother is pretty cool.

Hat tip to Albert Rasch, emailing from the 'Stan.  Stay safe, Albert.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Blogger is still messed up

It's rearranging my old posts.  It's possible that this is an artifact of the Blogger crew manually restoring last Thursday's posts, or it means that something is still weird deep down in side of the Blogger source code.

What's interesting is that the missing posts show up with "draft"  status, but the specific posts change over time.  It will be interesting to see when (if?) this settles down.

I'm not ready to start worrying yet, but if this happens again I will.  Sure would be a pain to have to stand up this blog on Wordpress.  Got almost 4000 posts and over 10,000 comments I'd have to move.

We have to stop this sensless War on Drugs Tortillas

Most of the time when I look at North Carolina, I see a place that's trying to turn itself into the Massachusetts of Dixie.*

Rick emails to remind me that sometimes, they live down to all of Massachusetts' worst stereotypes of them:

Hispanic groups are demanding an apology from a North Carolina sheriff's department that held a Mexican immigrant for four days after deputies mistook tortilla dough for cocaine. 

It turns out that Mr. Carranza is a legal immigrant to this land (welcome, sir!), and was driving to visit his sister.  It seems that Barney Fife didn't like his looks, and went looking for a reason to throw him into durance vile.  Well, mission accomplished, Bubba!

At that point, several deputies forced Hernández out of the truck and placed him under arrest. He was accused of ignoring the patrol car's flashing lights and of driving while intoxicated, though a subsequent breathalyzer test showed Hernández was not drunk.

Deputies impounded his truck, which they searched after a drug-sniffing dog indicated the presence of narcotics. The search led to 91 pounds of tortilla dough and other foodstuffs that authorities mistook for cocaine.
There actually is a rational explanation as to how the deputies can be this moronic poorly trained - the sheriff is a moron, too.  He clearly hasn't heard the saying that when you're in a hole, stop digging:

At that point, several deputies forced Hernández out of the truck and placed him under arrest. He was accused of ignoring the patrol car's flashing lights and of driving while intoxicated, though a subsequent breathalyzer test showed Hernández was not drunk.

Deputies impounded his truck, which they searched after a drug-sniffing dog indicated the presence of narcotics. The search led to 91 pounds of tortilla dough and other foodstuffs that authorities mistook for cocaine.

So, he wasn't drunk, although they said he was.  He didn't have cocaine, although they said he did.  They threw him in jail for four days, because they were a bunch of blooming idiots.

Rick comments dryly that he would be willing to help:

If the good Sheriffs in North Carolina can't tell the difference between cocaine and tortilla dough, I volunteer to be the tester.  I figure I would win no matter what it turned out to be.

My thought was that I hope that Mr. Carranza sues.  I for one would pay cash money to hear Deputy Fife testify as to why he thought yummy masa was a big old mess of narcotics.  I'd pay even more to hear Sheriff Numbskull explain to the jury just how he trains his folks.

Long time readers know about my love affair for the South.  I think that folks up in Yankeeland get their sneer on when they don't know anything about the matter.  This time?  Every one of the worse stereotypes of the Damn Yankees is dead on.

Buncombe County, North Carolina, I appeal to you to do your part for Dixie's honor.  Turn Sheriff Numbskull out at the next election.  A grateful South thanks you.

*No, this is not a compliment.

Great Britain commits suicide

Well, thanks for the Common Law and stuff.  Been nice knowing you:
[UK] Cabinet ministers have agreed a far-reaching, legally binding "green deal" that will commit the UK to two decades of drastic cuts in carbon emissions. The package will require sweeping changes to domestic life, transport and business and will place Britain at the forefront of the global battle against climate change.

...

It is also hoped that the commitment to renewable energy – the committee says 40% of the UK's power should come from wind, wave and tide sources by 2030 – will stimulate new industries.

...

The committee's report says the new carbon deal will require that heat pumps will have had to be installed in 2.6m homes by 2025. It also says that by the same date 31% of new cars, and 14% of those on the road overall, will be electric. Experts say a total of £16bn of investment will be needed every year to meet the commitment. Some of this money will be raised through increases in electricity prices.
Ignore for a moment the hopeless pie-in-the-sky 40% target for wind and tide power.  Instead, let's put that last price tag in perspective.  £16bn is around $26B.  The population of Her Britannic Majesty's Scepter'd Isle is about 62M, vs. US population of 307M - in other words, there are around five times as many Americans as Brits.

And so an equivalent spend for us to do a boondoggle this stupid would be five times as much, or $130B.  That's the spend per year, every year until 2027 - 16 years.  So the total price tag for this idiocy is the equivalent of us spending $2T.

That's spending that won't be available for productive investment.  Britain is eating its seed corn.  In a generation, they'll have the same standard of living as Mexico.  And who pays for this?  Read the bolded part above [my emphasis].  The poor pays for this.  And notice that the poor will have their gas or oil furnaces replaced with electric heat pumps, so they can pay even more.

All I can say is that environmentalists must hate poor people as much as they hate minorities.

What's simply astonishing is how Europeans are so firmly convinced that they're smarter than we are, and yet their "elite" thinks they can take a quarter trillion bob out of the pockets of the poor (while destroying the poor's hopes for their children) without triggering a revolt.  Good luck with that.  I'm admittedly a biased observer - after all, my ancestors all decided that Europe sucked - but you Eurosnobs have to make it a little harder for us to mock you.  This sort of numbskullery takes away all the challenge.

I'm begging ya, please, to up your game.  I mean, I'll lose my edge in mockery if you keep this up.  Yeah, yeah - somewhere in Texas, a village is missing its idiot.  Seems he sits on Her Majesty's Cabinet now.

Yeah, I'm mocking you.  I just thought that stupid must be in the water over there, so I spelled it out as a public service.  No need to thank me.

(Via)

His problem, of course was that it was an "Underground Lair"

When it should have been an "Under Seas Lair":


With sharks with frickin' "lasers".

Yeah, it's from last August.  Feeling kind of slow today.

I didn't do it

We haven't lived in Sudbury for six months:


No other ammunition or guns were found, police said.

...

In an email to parents, Superintendent/Principal Scott Carpenter said in all, more than 1,600 bags and more than 3,000 lockers were searched.
"Several people have speculated that someone who had recently been shooting a .22 caliber at a firing range may have inadvertently dropped the shell casings on the floor,'' said Carpenter. "In the interest of safety and in line with Lincoln-Sudbury safety protocol, we erred on the side of caution.''
Someone goes to the shooting range, and so they lock down a school.  But just remember, Massachusetts liberals are so much smarter than redneck Texans. [rolls eyes]

And yeah, while I can't stand that school, I have an alibi.

Monday, May 16, 2011

Linkin Park - Waiting For The End

#1 Son informs me that I need to be branching out in the music I post here, to include "modern" stuff (as he calls it).  He offers this as the introductory "Modern Monday" post, from Linkin Park.

Linkin Park won't need much introduction to most readers, after selling 50 million albums and winning a couple Grammys.  This song is somewhat of a departure for them - as is much of their latest album,  A Thousand Suns.  Musically, it's very interesting with layers of musical activity playing with and opposite each other.  Not your average musical bear, from not your average Pop/Rock band.



Waiting For The End (Songwriters: Linkin Park)
This is not the end
This is not the beginning,
Just a voice like a riot
Rocking every revision
But you listen to the tone
And the violent rhythm
Though the words sound steady
Something empty's within 'em

We say Yeah!
With fists flying up in the air
Like we're holding onto something
That's invisible there,
'Cause we're living at the mercy of
The pain and the fear
Until we dead it, Forget it,
Let it all disappear.

Waiting for the end to come
Wishing I had strength to stand
This is not what I had planned
It's out of my control....

Flying at the speed of light
Thoughts were spinning in my head
So many things were left unsaid
It's hard to let you go...

(Oh!) I know what it takes to move on,
I know how it feels to lie,
All I wanna do
Is trade this life for something new
Holding on to what I haven't got

Sitting in an empty room
Trying to forget the past
This was never meant to last,
I wish it wasn't so...

(Oh!) I know what it takes to move on,

I know how it feels to lie,
All I wanna do
Is trade this life for something new
Holding on to what I haven't got

What was left when that fire was gone?
I thought it felt right but that right was wrong
All caught up in the eye of the storm
And trying to figure out what it's like moving on
And i don't even know what kind of things I've said
My mouth kept moving and my mind went dead
So, picking up the pieces, now where to begin?
The hardest part of ending Is starting again!!

All I wanna do
Is trade this life for something new
Holding on to what i haven't got...

This is not the end
This is not the beginning,
Just a voice like a riot
Rocking every revision
But you listen to the tone
And the violet rhythm
Though the words sound steady
Something empty's within 'em
(Holding on to what i haven't got)

We say Yeah!
With fists flying up in the air
Like we're holding onto something
That's invisible there,
'Cause we're living at the mercy of
The pain and the fear
Until we dead it, Forget it,
Let it all disappear
(Holding on to what i haven't got!)

.22 e-Postal reminder

ASM826 has final rules posted for the Memorial Day .22 e-Postal match.  Download the target from him, shoot it up, scan it (or take a pic) and email it to him.

On this day in history

President Woodrow Wilson signed the Sedition Act of 1918 into law.  Progressives, chaffing at opposition to their plans for remaking the Republic (only better, this time) made it a crime to use "disloyal, profane, scurrilous, or abusive language" concerning the US Government, or to cause others to view it with contempt.

Progressively (so to speak), some 200 people were convicted of this heinous crime, including presidential candidate Eugene Debs.  The whole sorry episode sputtered to an ignominious end in 1920.  Oddly, those convicted had to serve out their sentences anyway.  Very "Progressive".

Come the Revolution Brave New Progressive World, you'll all keep your mouths shut, y'hear?

On this day in 1966, the Red Chinese kicked off the very Progressive Cultural Revolution.  Chaffing at opposition to their plans for remaking the Middle Kingdom (only better, this time), the ten year Cultural Revolution saw the progressive death of between 750,000 and 1.5M Chinese.  Huge numbers of ancient relics, artifacts, and archives were destroyed; after all, who needs all that old junk when the new Progressive utopia is being built?

But hey, all for a good cause, right Progressives?

America - do your part to "When Harry Met Sally" the TSA!

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Sunday, May 15, 2011

Mental health break

I have another uberpost kicking around the back of the head, but I'm all tired out after the last week.  FOB Borepatch is set up and we have Internet access now.  I still need to find a shooting range that's affiliated with CMP - when I head back to Atlanta I could take I-20 and stop at the CMP store in Alabama. 

But I'm pretty tired now, and tomorrow morning is inevitable.  So courtesy of reader (and shooting buddy) Burt, here's something I wish I'd found last fall.



That's pretty filled with win, right there.

UPDATE 15 May 2011 19:12: More on the deer mounts in the comments, but I have to get out deer hunting.  All I can say is that I use antlers in all of my decorating ...

In her right hand, an empty chain leash.

Hemmingway once said that you could tell a story in six words: "For sale.  Baby shoes.  Never worn."

The Czar of Muscovy looks at pets, and captures a very Hemmingwayesque moment.  A reader responds with a longer, but no less poignant story.  The Czar muses:
How strange we are. I know pets aren't children, but we in 21st Century America don't expect to outlive our children and yet we willingly go through the cycles of life and death of our beloved little friends so many times. We know that one day we will be standing outside the vet's office, receiving a small box, and embarking on that same path of pain.
We all of us experience a moment like this.  I know that I did.  Lord Byron's memorial to his beloved Newfoundland, Bosun, is so well known that it is nearly cliche.  Nearly, but the magnificence - and ferocity - of its sentiment saves it:
Near this spot
Are deposited the Remains of one
Who possessed Beauty without Vanity,
Strength without Insolence,
Courage without Ferocity,
And all the Virtues of Man without his Vices.
We have for millennia bread dogs to be Man's perfect companion - to indeed capture all of our virtues.  A creature in whose eyes we see reflected back that man we would wish to be, whether we deserve it or not.

When they pass, grief is their due.  If we're any damn good at all.

Claude Debussy - Clair de Lune

What would music sound like, if it were written by the French impressionist painters? This:



Claude Debussy was a child prodigy, much like Mozart.  His talent made such an impression that he was taught by a student of Frederick Chopin, himself taught music to the children of Tchaikovsky's patron, and was enrolled in the Paris Conservatory when he was only 11.  By the 1880s, he was hanging out in Montmartre with the impressionist crowd.  Impressed by the avant garde idea that art should appeal to the senses (rather than the intellect), he wrote a series of tone poems that are perhaps best described as "lush".

Clair de Lune means "Moonlight" in French.  Debussy wrote a tone poem inspired by Paul Verlaine's 1890 poem of the same name:

Your soul is as a moonlit landscape fair,
Peopled with maskers delicate and dim,
That play on lutes and dance and have an air
Of being sad in their fantastic trim.
The while they celebrate in minor strain
Triumphant love, effective enterprise,
They have an air of knowing all is vain,—
And through the quiet moonlight their songs rise,
The melancholy moonlight, sweet and lone,
That makes to dream the birds upon the tree,
And in their polished basins of white stone
The fountains tall to sob with ecstasy.
The scene in Ocean's Eleven where the gang watch the Bellagio Fountains while this song plays is very well done, and follows the spirit of Verlain's poem - especially at the end, just before the song finishes, where the fountains let off one last mighty roar and then fall silent.  A very subtle tip of the hat in a very well done film.



But that's looking at things through the prism of the intellect, not the senses.  This song is so incredibly well known (it's been used in maybe 120 different films) precisely because it speaks in the voice of emotions.  Speaks to the right brain, not the left.  To the soul, not the mind.

This piece is seductive in its initial and ending simplicity, and can inspire someone to attempt to learn the piano.  The middle of the piece is an entirely different matter, with rapid rolling arpeggios reminiscent of his later piece La Mer.  Easy to start, hard to master.


This piece has a special meaning for me, capturing a particular instant of my life.  Hearing the opening bars is enough to take me back to a particular bittersweet time and place, of melancholy moonlight and dreams that you know are in vain.  Where the future was painted in flecks of color that you were still too close to be able to make out the picture.  A tone poem, indeed.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Beyond the mountain

A Master who lived as a hermit on a mountain was asked by a monk, "What is the Way?"


"What a fine mountain this is," the master said in reply.

"I am not asking you about the mountain, but about the Way."


"So long as you cannot go beyond the mountain, my son, you cannot reach the Way," replied the master.


 Zen is designed to lead the student to understanding.  It's a challenge, not an answer.  A good student will rise to the challenge; an exceptional student will master it.

It's very Eastern.  Here in the West, we've always liked things wrapped up in cling wrap, ever since the Renaissance.  Western Thought has produced marvels of understanding in the realm of the physical; the laws of science are opening before us because of our peculiar outwards focus.

Our inwards focus lags far behind.  As Aquinas would have put it, we have learned much of the world without the need for Revelation, but flounder at understanding our own souls.  Aquinas could tell us why, but what he wrote is hard, and we like things all nicely wrapped up in cling wrap.

But what about the way?  It is written in the (possibly heretical) Gospel of Thomas that Jesus was asked when the Kingdom of God would appear.  He replied The Kingdom of the Father is spread upon the Earth, and Men do not see it.

A challenge, not an answer.  See it.

Ah, the problems of too much traffic ...

I don't have them, either.  And Ann Althouse gets like eleventy zillion more hits than I do:
He's talking about going down because you get too much traffic. I've never had to deal with that issue. The idea of traffic as a bad, damaging thing... I've never blogged in that sort of environment.
But yeah, Google is pretty safe from DDoS attacks.  Of course that means to become the new Super Stud h4X0r, taking Google down is the new path to fame.  Of course, ever since people figured out that you can make big money in Black Hat hacking, nobody's particularly interested in letting their huge Zombie Botnet Army get exposed in a front-page attack.

I expect if some 1337 d00d actually figured out how to get his 15 minutes of fame this way, he'd get a knock on his door from the Russian Mafia.

Ah, those layers and layers of editors ...

Funniest. Grammatical. Misuse. Evah.

And at the New York Times, no less.

Lyle Lovett - That's Right (You're Not From Texas)

Being new to Texas, I've found myself surrounded by gracious, welcoming Texans.  That seems to be a trait here, and it was captured perfectly by a comment that Southern Belle left to this post:
I can tell you're settling into Texas just fine these days. You say 'fixin', you are an honorary Texan.

Lyle Lovett captures this, too. Lovett, of course, is a real Texan, born and bred.  So much so that a couple years back he got caught by a bull on his Uncle's ranch, and rammed into the fence.  Ouch.

Lovett has been recording Country music since 1980.  His has never been the over-produced, over-commercial Nashville style.  Instead, his Muse leads him to a more quirky - and much more interesting - broad ranging style.  In this he seems a bit like a different Texan, Willie Nelson.  But Lovett's quirky style hasn't just led him to 4 Grammys, it's given us this, which (perhaps due to its use in wide spread tourism advertising) seems to have entered the collective Texan culture.  Nothing wrong with that.



That's Right (You're Not From Texas) (Songwriters: Lovett, Ramsey, Rogers)
You say you're not from Texas
Man as if I couldn't tell
You think you pull your boots on right
And wear your hat so well

So pardon me my laughter
'Cause I sure do understand
Even Moses got excited
When he saw the promised land

That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway

That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway

See I was born and raised in Texas
And it means so much to me
Though my girl comes from down in Georgia
We were up in Tennessee

And as we were driving down the highway
She asked me baby what's so great
How come you're always going on
About your Lone Star State

I said that's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway

That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway

Oh the road it looked so lovely
As she stood there on the side
And she grew smaller in my mirror
As I watched her wave goodbye

Those boys from Carolina
They sure enough could sing
But when they came on down to Texas
We all showed them how to swing

Now David's on the radio
And old Champ's still on the guitar
And Uncle Walt he's home with Heidi
Hiding in her loving arms

That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway

That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway

They're OK in Oklahoma
Up in Arkansas they're fair
But those old folks in Missouri
They don't even know you're there

But at a dance hall down in Texas
That's the finest place to be
The women they all look beautiful
And their men will buy your beer for free

And they'll say that's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway

That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway

So won't you let me help you Mister
Just pull your hat down the way I do
And buy your pants just a little longer
And next time somebody laughs at you

You just tell 'em you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway

That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway

Friday, May 13, 2011

We have achieved Hot Water and Internet.  Going through this sort of inconvenient situation makes you think about people who go through it for an extended (or permanent) time.  Me, I'm happy to be living in the future again.  Whatever you do, don't tell the environmentalists - they'll want to take the hot water and Internet away.  For Teh Childrens®, of course.

The Ice Cream freezer should be cold again soon.

Trampiness 101

Offered as a public service in the exceptionally unlikely chance that young lady readers are actually readers here, this actually isn't too bad a list.  6 things women do to look hot that men hate.  It includes this nugget, which made me scratch my head:
#2.)  Neon Lipstick.  It's becoming popular all of a sudden, and guys might eventually LEARN to like it.  But so far, they don't
Neon lipstick?  This must be a sign of the Lady Gaga-ification of America.

Damn kids!  Get offa my lawn!

Srlsy, neon lipstick?