If I could travel in time for a single day, I'd go back in time rather than forward in time. The future seems unreal to me. I like analyzing, interpreting and drawing conclusions, and that is easier with the past, when facts are known, than in the uncertain and ever-changing future, when I might not be. I'd like to go back thirty years to share what I know now with the individual that I was then. It would be a dicey affair, visiting myself. How would my past Self interpret such a visitation? I suppose there are ways that I could prove to my past Self that I was who I said I was, but such an intrusion would be unsettling.
I remember having had certain thoughts and feelings which seemed borrowed from a much later period of life, possibly premonitions. There was nothing specific that I could really sink my teeth into, only whisperings of the future and of certain paths that could be taken in the most ambiguous and general terms. I did not know the source, whether intuitive, spirit or telepath, and it seemed unwise to encourage such trespasses, so I shutdown the avenue of communication and listened no more. Perhaps it would have been better to listen more.
Of course, if I could go back in time, I'd carry as much gold with me as possible in order to liquidate and purchase stock in Microsoft, Wal-Mart, Toyota, and Honda. Even a $10,000 investment would have made me a rich man, I think, thirty years later. I don't know how I would have managed all the necessary business transactions in a single day. Another thing on the "must-do" list would be to attempt contact with the President of the United States via a written letter, easy enough to do. I would write down things that will occur in the next couple months or years in order to validate my authenticity, and then things that will occur later, to help the President craft public policy.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Special Delivery
The case of the pooping postman is funny because it is unexpected.
I'd be willing to look the other way for a price. A fee of $100 would be required. If he didn't have $100 on hand, he'd have to go to the ATM and come back at the end of his shift.
Same scenario transpired two years ago when the neighbor's tree-cutter felled a tree onto my property, devastating a bush. Inspired by mafia taxation on The Sopranos, I exacted a $50 fee, in cash, on the spot. Higher rates apply for public defecation. I'd offer a twenty-five percent discount if the postman were Asian Indian, because I understand public defecation is the norm in India.
I'd be willing to look the other way for a price. A fee of $100 would be required. If he didn't have $100 on hand, he'd have to go to the ATM and come back at the end of his shift.
Same scenario transpired two years ago when the neighbor's tree-cutter felled a tree onto my property, devastating a bush. Inspired by mafia taxation on The Sopranos, I exacted a $50 fee, in cash, on the spot. Higher rates apply for public defecation. I'd offer a twenty-five percent discount if the postman were Asian Indian, because I understand public defecation is the norm in India.
Free Photos of Outer Space
A web site at Berkeley University offers free recent photos of outer space.
No geek has branded any text to the pictures this time, which means the pictures might serve as desktop wallpaper or as part of a screen saver rotation.
No geek has branded any text to the pictures this time, which means the pictures might serve as desktop wallpaper or as part of a screen saver rotation.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
The Unwelcome Mr. Reaper
The Grim Reaper is an entity never far from my thoughts. I often imagine what it will be like to die, what will happen afterward to this collection of cells, and what will happen to the ones that I care about, who are few in number, and the ones that I'm acquainted with, a much greater number, and the human race as a whole, which encompasses everyone now living and those yet to arrive.
The physical aspect of death is scary enough. I imagine the worst pain I've ever experienced and multiply it tenfold. The thought of such pain is terrifying. Fear is enough for most people to avoid potentially fatal situations such as playing "chicken" with speeding cars. Worse is knowing, right before the end, that there will be no second chances, that the change is irreversible. I am reminded of the sad look on my Grandmother's face when she was in the hospital. She knew she was going to die and said little. But I have no doubt she would have liked to get better, even if it meant giving up the use of an arm or leg, or even both arms and both legs, anything to live a bit longer. She would very much have liked to have relocated her consciousness to another body, not displacing anyone, but cohabiting. I would gladly have hosted her consciousness, although radical adjustments would have been necessary on both sides. Perhaps the technology for such an arrangement will become available in the future, too late for my readers and me.
As for physical remains, it is humbling to accept that this body that one has taken such pains to keep clean, whole and fortified will become food for microorganisms and insects or else burnt to ashes. There is an insane fear that one might regain consciousness at a late state of decomposition to discover that one's nose, mouth or eyeballs are being devoured by worms. It is distressing to imagine other people coming upon one's corpse and being grossed out, even nauseated by the sight or smell. How embarrassing! But then, where will the embarrassment originate?
As for my dear friends, which is to say, my family and partner, the "leave" is all-important. That is, the manner and state in which I departed would be the essential thing. I would want to feel like I did well, not leaving things undone that needed to be done, and not doing things that should not be done. One does not wish to be despised, with people pissing on one's grave, but mourned truly as a genuine loss and recognized, if not as a hero, then as a basically good fellow no worse than any other sort. That is why no one should envy such villains as Khadaffy, who though rich and well-known, will not be mourned by anyone in possession of a conscience.
As for my acquaintances, those that knew me at a distance, I like to imagine what might be said in confidence. I doubt much would be said at all, because I do not think I made a great impression on anyone really. People tend not to remember the things that I said or did, but to ignore me for the most part, as though I were already a ghost. I expect that after uttering a general platitude, most would dismiss every thought of me from their mind. Thus, I would be forgotten, just as most of the dead are. Only the best and the worst of people are remembered, and I'm neither, but somewhere in the middle ranks. Even the best and the worst, they too will be forgotten if there's truth in the precognition below.
For the human race as a whole, I'm pessimistic, because I believe that man's mastery of technology overwhelms his feeble moral compass, and I also believe that this disparity will result in the annihilation of intelligent life on earth. Surviving will be microorganisms, plants and small creatures. Perhaps there is time remaining in our solar system for another process of evolution on this planet. But it may be billions of years before another intelligent species arises. Traces of humankind will linger in outer space, perhaps, and in certain areas of the earth. Another intelligent species with an appreciation for archeology may unearth our bones one day.
The physical aspect of death is scary enough. I imagine the worst pain I've ever experienced and multiply it tenfold. The thought of such pain is terrifying. Fear is enough for most people to avoid potentially fatal situations such as playing "chicken" with speeding cars. Worse is knowing, right before the end, that there will be no second chances, that the change is irreversible. I am reminded of the sad look on my Grandmother's face when she was in the hospital. She knew she was going to die and said little. But I have no doubt she would have liked to get better, even if it meant giving up the use of an arm or leg, or even both arms and both legs, anything to live a bit longer. She would very much have liked to have relocated her consciousness to another body, not displacing anyone, but cohabiting. I would gladly have hosted her consciousness, although radical adjustments would have been necessary on both sides. Perhaps the technology for such an arrangement will become available in the future, too late for my readers and me.
As for physical remains, it is humbling to accept that this body that one has taken such pains to keep clean, whole and fortified will become food for microorganisms and insects or else burnt to ashes. There is an insane fear that one might regain consciousness at a late state of decomposition to discover that one's nose, mouth or eyeballs are being devoured by worms. It is distressing to imagine other people coming upon one's corpse and being grossed out, even nauseated by the sight or smell. How embarrassing! But then, where will the embarrassment originate?
As for my dear friends, which is to say, my family and partner, the "leave" is all-important. That is, the manner and state in which I departed would be the essential thing. I would want to feel like I did well, not leaving things undone that needed to be done, and not doing things that should not be done. One does not wish to be despised, with people pissing on one's grave, but mourned truly as a genuine loss and recognized, if not as a hero, then as a basically good fellow no worse than any other sort. That is why no one should envy such villains as Khadaffy, who though rich and well-known, will not be mourned by anyone in possession of a conscience.
As for my acquaintances, those that knew me at a distance, I like to imagine what might be said in confidence. I doubt much would be said at all, because I do not think I made a great impression on anyone really. People tend not to remember the things that I said or did, but to ignore me for the most part, as though I were already a ghost. I expect that after uttering a general platitude, most would dismiss every thought of me from their mind. Thus, I would be forgotten, just as most of the dead are. Only the best and the worst of people are remembered, and I'm neither, but somewhere in the middle ranks. Even the best and the worst, they too will be forgotten if there's truth in the precognition below.
For the human race as a whole, I'm pessimistic, because I believe that man's mastery of technology overwhelms his feeble moral compass, and I also believe that this disparity will result in the annihilation of intelligent life on earth. Surviving will be microorganisms, plants and small creatures. Perhaps there is time remaining in our solar system for another process of evolution on this planet. But it may be billions of years before another intelligent species arises. Traces of humankind will linger in outer space, perhaps, and in certain areas of the earth. Another intelligent species with an appreciation for archeology may unearth our bones one day.
Mutations are Good for You
I've said it before, and I'll say it again--mutations are good for you. Go ahead and drink that potion of mutation without a second's hesitation. If it turns ill for you, then double down by drinking another one, followed by a third and a fourth. In my experience, bad mutations tend not to be so very bad (-10% MP for a warrior? Pschaw!) whereas good mutations tend to be very good indeed, as shown below:
I always seek the altar of Jiyva, the God of Acid, whocauses hallucinations has the power to cure bad mutations and grant beneficial mutations, which is highly desirable, as potions of cure mutation are scarce. But I haven't had much luck in locating an altar in the lower levels. Typically, my characters choose Okarawu instead, whose altars are easier to locate.
I always seek the altar of Jiyva, the God of Acid, who
Okarawu's Secret
Unlike the Troglodyte God, the wise Okarawu takes into consideration his worshippers' aptitudes, or so it would seem.
Press 'm' to access the Abilities Menu and then turn off the Throwing ability in order to minimize skill acquisition in that area, which will also minimize the chance that Okarawu will gift your character a trivial pack of darts or needles. Preferred are Okarawu's armour and melee weapons.
Employing this strategy created favorable auspices for the following gift, which can serve as a primary melee weapon even in the deepest level of Hell:
Press 'm' to access the Abilities Menu and then turn off the Throwing ability in order to minimize skill acquisition in that area, which will also minimize the chance that Okarawu will gift your character a trivial pack of darts or needles. Preferred are Okarawu's armour and melee weapons.
Employing this strategy created favorable auspices for the following gift, which can serve as a primary melee weapon even in the deepest level of Hell:
Friday, April 8, 2011
Mitch Hedburg
I saw a video of a standup act with the comedian Mitch Hedburg tonight. He's unique among standups. He delivers without eye contact, staring at the floor or hiding his eyes behind his long (for a man) blonde hair. One can't decide whether he's witty or crazy; smart or moronic. His deadpan delivery in a rhythmic sing-song voice makes him funny. He expresses nonchalance, weariness with the world and irony. I think we've all known a Mitch Hedburg or else posed as one in high school or college.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
The Perfect Meal
The perfect meal consists of two sandwiches of whole-grain toast with chunks of avocado served with black or green tea.
It takes all of five minutes to make, but for my money there's nothing more delicious in the world. The only catch is that the avocado has to be a Haas and has to be perfectly ripe. It's time to snack when the skin is black.
Cost? Haas avocado, $1.49 or so; a loaf of whole-grain bread is only $1.25 at the thrift store, which is the place to go to buy cheap bread. Tea is so cheap that it is not worth itemizing--or should be so. We do live in good and prosperous times, all things considered, do we not?
It takes all of five minutes to make, but for my money there's nothing more delicious in the world. The only catch is that the avocado has to be a Haas and has to be perfectly ripe. It's time to snack when the skin is black.
Cost? Haas avocado, $1.49 or so; a loaf of whole-grain bread is only $1.25 at the thrift store, which is the place to go to buy cheap bread. Tea is so cheap that it is not worth itemizing--or should be so. We do live in good and prosperous times, all things considered, do we not?
Saturday, April 2, 2011
News Gives a False Impression
The world's headlines today were suboptimal as usual. Twelve or more UN workers were killed by a mob in Afghanistan. A Catholic policeman was killed in Northern Ireland. The Libya conflict continues with no apparent end in sight. Japan is coping with radiation.
I have some ideas of my own about some of these stories. In regard to Afghanistan, I find it difficult to believe a mob became bloodthirsty just because of a small-time hick preacher in Florida burning a Koran. That is B.S., no way Jose do I believe for even one second that Afghani civilians would kill twelve U.N. workers over that. (What does the U.N. have to do with it?) I think, instead, the Taliban infiltrated a mob of offended people who might have wanted to demonstrate and let their feelings be known, but I don't think most of the people actually wanted to commit murder of random foreigners that have no connection to Pastor Putz, or at least I hope not. Maybe I'm mistaken. As for Northern Ireland, I'm willing to bet the cop was targeted because he was honest and wouldn't join the other cops that are collaborating with local hoods. I have a need to assign rational motives to irrational deeds. Again, I could be mistaken.
At any rate, there were millions of stories that went unreported in today's news. For instance, it was a beautiful day where I live, and people I saw out on the street looked nice and happy, like they were having a good time. Whenever I read the negative stories in the media, I remind myself that in ancient times such stories were commonplace, even trite. Mobs arose and slew governors, senators, and anyone they could get their hands on. Rebellions were sometimes successful, usually not though, and reprisals were severe and deadly, all over the world, through all times. Khadaffy has no monopoly on ruthlessness. He is just doing what wicked old kings have done since before Hammurabi. I accuse Khadaffy of failing to abide by the rudiments of the Western Enlightenment, and yes, I do think it is unforgivable, because knowledge and history are immediately accessible to someone of his means. I don't forgive any greedy selfish dictator who cares only about his personal power. They don't deserve being forgiven. If I were a dictator, I would at least attempt to improve the lot of my people. Why are there no benevolent dictators, like the Philosopher-King described by Plato? Why did Khadaffy have to be evil, lazy, stupid, ignorant, and delusional? I see the truth in Lord Acton's dictum, power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.
I consoled myself with an anthology of Oscar Wilde's short stories, yarns he used to spin for dinner parties and the like. He never actually wrote them down, but others did, his enthralled listeners.
I have some ideas of my own about some of these stories. In regard to Afghanistan, I find it difficult to believe a mob became bloodthirsty just because of a small-time hick preacher in Florida burning a Koran. That is B.S., no way Jose do I believe for even one second that Afghani civilians would kill twelve U.N. workers over that. (What does the U.N. have to do with it?) I think, instead, the Taliban infiltrated a mob of offended people who might have wanted to demonstrate and let their feelings be known, but I don't think most of the people actually wanted to commit murder of random foreigners that have no connection to Pastor Putz, or at least I hope not. Maybe I'm mistaken. As for Northern Ireland, I'm willing to bet the cop was targeted because he was honest and wouldn't join the other cops that are collaborating with local hoods. I have a need to assign rational motives to irrational deeds. Again, I could be mistaken.
At any rate, there were millions of stories that went unreported in today's news. For instance, it was a beautiful day where I live, and people I saw out on the street looked nice and happy, like they were having a good time. Whenever I read the negative stories in the media, I remind myself that in ancient times such stories were commonplace, even trite. Mobs arose and slew governors, senators, and anyone they could get their hands on. Rebellions were sometimes successful, usually not though, and reprisals were severe and deadly, all over the world, through all times. Khadaffy has no monopoly on ruthlessness. He is just doing what wicked old kings have done since before Hammurabi. I accuse Khadaffy of failing to abide by the rudiments of the Western Enlightenment, and yes, I do think it is unforgivable, because knowledge and history are immediately accessible to someone of his means. I don't forgive any greedy selfish dictator who cares only about his personal power. They don't deserve being forgiven. If I were a dictator, I would at least attempt to improve the lot of my people. Why are there no benevolent dictators, like the Philosopher-King described by Plato? Why did Khadaffy have to be evil, lazy, stupid, ignorant, and delusional? I see the truth in Lord Acton's dictum, power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.
I consoled myself with an anthology of Oscar Wilde's short stories, yarns he used to spin for dinner parties and the like. He never actually wrote them down, but others did, his enthralled listeners.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Too True
I have to agree with this column in the Holland Sentinel. It's all true. I've spoken with too many fellow workers that voted for right-wingers. They voted for people that were serving the interest of the very rich as if they, themselves, were the very rich. I guess they were living in some kind of Fantasy Land. Now the chickens are coming home to roost. Good jobs are becoming as scarce as unicorns. Funny thing is, I don't think the voting patterns have changed much. If anything, 2010 showed that the trend is firmly ingrained.
An Idea for the Tea Party
An obvious way to cut government spending would be to end the drug war. That would save many billions of dollars. That no one of any note in the Tea Party seems to be suggesting such a thing indicates that the Tea Party is not serious about cutting spending. They are just rehashing the same old Republican notions--drop billions on warfare, including war against U.S. citizens, and play the Scrooge on the social programs. Same old same old G.O.P. Ho-hum.
Drugs were legal prior to the 1930s, yet somehow the U.S. managed to survive and even prosper. The Prohibitionists apparently believe that something changed in the U.S. around the 1930s, requiring the citizens to be policed, even in their own homes, regarding which substances they choose to use.
Drugs were legal prior to the 1930s, yet somehow the U.S. managed to survive and even prosper. The Prohibitionists apparently believe that something changed in the U.S. around the 1930s, requiring the citizens to be policed, even in their own homes, regarding which substances they choose to use.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Alan Carr & Graham Norton
Alan Carr and Graham Norton occupy the same niche, that of an openly gay talk show host that interviews celebrities to discuss frivolous matters, often touching upon sexual or humorous topics. The celebrities seek to further their own career, while the host seeks to extract entertaining nuggets from the discussion. I know that these two shows are not educational, but they are liberating, lighthearted fare. I enjoy both shows immensely, but of the two, Alan Carr's seems better, because he is almost never mean, whereas Graham Norton has a condescending attitude toward "the little people," that is, his non-celebrity audience. Also, Alan Carr introduces novelty performances into his show. After the interview, a guest is likely to get up and dance with him or act out a skit. I have a smile on my face the whole time I watch Alan Carr--he's that good.
McCain
I watched McCain get up in the Senate and rail against the integration of gay troops in the U.S. military and was disgusted by his performance. That's what it was, a performance, consisting of transparent lies that the bitter, conniving, power-hungry politician thinks will ingratiate himself with religious conservatives. I think between G. W. Bush and McCain, the right man won. Even in comparison with Bush, McCain is by far the weaker specimen. In the future, any media story featuring McCain will not interest me unless it concerns his defeat. McCain even makes Palin look more interesting.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Selective Enforcement of the Law
Often, the law only applies to the poor. The rich do as they please. This is true everywhere in the world. Justice is seldom blind.
Here's another example of how the poor receive severe punishment for committing minor crimes involving relatively trivial sums of money, whereas the rich receive little or no punishment for major crimes involving billions of dollars.
Of course, it is easier by far to prosecute a poor person without sufficient funds to hire a comprehensive team of defense lawyers. This bumps up the ol' quota and makes a law enforcement agent look good on paper. Let the big fish get away. Fry the small fry.
Here's another example of how the poor receive severe punishment for committing minor crimes involving relatively trivial sums of money, whereas the rich receive little or no punishment for major crimes involving billions of dollars.
Of course, it is easier by far to prosecute a poor person without sufficient funds to hire a comprehensive team of defense lawyers. This bumps up the ol' quota and makes a law enforcement agent look good on paper. Let the big fish get away. Fry the small fry.
Hugo Chavez's Poor Choice of Allies
Wikipedia's page on Chavez, the president of Venezuela, is glowing and worshipful, but I don't know how much truth is on that page and how much fantasy. Wikipedia's praise of Chavez places a heavy reliance upon statistics. There are three types of lies in this world: lies, damned lies, and statistics. I have read Chavez's direct quotes lavishing unwarranted praise upon his allies, Khadaffy of Libya and the PM of Iran, excusing their many crimes. As far as I'm concerned, Chavez is not worth the time of day as long as he cozies up to such tyrants. Just because they are the enemy of his supposed enemy, the United States, is not a good enough excuse. The ignoramus Chavez described the airstrikes as an imperialist military intervention. He obviously does not know the definition of "imperialism," which means a stronger country rules, taxes and extracts resources from a weaker one, which is not on anyone's agenda. Perhaps Chavez should spend more time reading a dictionary and less time looking into matters that are beyond his intellectual capability to comprehend. Imperialism is a discarded relic of the earlier part of the previous century. Chavez certainly enjoys living in the past, but there is something to be said for seeing the present with 20/20 vision. I am unsurprised that the Wikipedia article is biased, after my own experience with a self-appointed Wikipedia censor by the nym of Fae, who deletes from the encyclopedia on the basis of his own narrow opinions.
A recent atrocity in Libya is just the tip of an iceberg, I know. I can only hope that I could have been brave as that woman, who spoke out against the torturing, raping, murdering regime of Khadaffy. In my opinion she has established her heroism by confronting the regime, even at the certain cost of her life. There is a high probability that the regime's thugs killed, tortured or raped her again after the confrontation with foreign journalists. If Hugo Chavez had even a hundredth part of her courage, he might be worth following.
Stories like this make Americans wonder what might happen to them if they were unlucky enough to be stuck in Libya for some reason among the savages of Khadaffy's barbaric regime, which has already been implicated in acts of terrorism against Americans and other Westerners. I am old enough to remember Khadaffy's support of terrorism against the United States. For past crimes against Americans, we owe him tons of bombs dropped upon his empty head to shut his lying mouth once and for all. How fortunate we are that the Libyan rebels are willing to mop up on the ground--all we have to do is drop some bombs, an easier task by far than long-term occupation. Perhaps the operation will cost a couple hundred million, but in the end a cancer will be excised, and the patient may recover from the disease known as Khadaffy.
A recent atrocity in Libya is just the tip of an iceberg, I know. I can only hope that I could have been brave as that woman, who spoke out against the torturing, raping, murdering regime of Khadaffy. In my opinion she has established her heroism by confronting the regime, even at the certain cost of her life. There is a high probability that the regime's thugs killed, tortured or raped her again after the confrontation with foreign journalists. If Hugo Chavez had even a hundredth part of her courage, he might be worth following.
Stories like this make Americans wonder what might happen to them if they were unlucky enough to be stuck in Libya for some reason among the savages of Khadaffy's barbaric regime, which has already been implicated in acts of terrorism against Americans and other Westerners. I am old enough to remember Khadaffy's support of terrorism against the United States. For past crimes against Americans, we owe him tons of bombs dropped upon his empty head to shut his lying mouth once and for all. How fortunate we are that the Libyan rebels are willing to mop up on the ground--all we have to do is drop some bombs, an easier task by far than long-term occupation. Perhaps the operation will cost a couple hundred million, but in the end a cancer will be excised, and the patient may recover from the disease known as Khadaffy.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Dear Trog
Dear Trog, God of Frenzy,
If I have achieved level 14 in Maces & Flails, do you really think I want you to bestow a battleaxe? It's a bit late for me to be starting over with a new weapon type, don't you think? Please use a bit more care in selecting your gifts. I know you're opposed to magic and not considered very smart by the other gods, but still. You don't want the other gods to think you're retarded, either.
Worshipfully,
If I have achieved level 14 in Maces & Flails, do you really think I want you to bestow a battleaxe? It's a bit late for me to be starting over with a new weapon type, don't you think? Please use a bit more care in selecting your gifts. I know you're opposed to magic and not considered very smart by the other gods, but still. You don't want the other gods to think you're retarded, either.
Worshipfully,
Demonspawn Beserker
Black Spells
From time to time, I have black spells, moments when I feel like Death the Tempter is clutching my shoulder with cold bony fingertips, whispering of how nice it is not to be, and singing about the silence, dignity, gravitas, solemnity, finality, completion, perfection and invulnerability of the grave, which no one may assail--for the dead cannot suffer--and indeed, death is all that, and more, although I suspect one doesn't know it, not being or thinking anymore. Death only seems fair before, but after, there is no seeming at all, no reflection, and no second chance. Obliteration of the individual consciousness occurs. I am neutral on the question of whether our mortality is good or bad. I think I will persist and see what will come, out of curiosity. I think it is wise to hope, especially in such wondrous times, when there is so much peace and prosperity, more than our ancestors ever dreamed, and more understanding, compassion and goodness in people than what can be read in the history books. Ancient times were harder by far. It is a mistake to give in to black spells or to do anything other than endure them and let them pass like tides of the ocean, wiping away castles of sand that can be rebuilt again.
Advice to Fellow Geeks 1: Opposites Attract
If you're a geek like me, admit it. Won't do you any good to deny it, and besides, being a geek has advantages which should be obvious, at least to other geeks. Today's class is on romance and dating. First of all, don't date other geeks. Branch out. Date a social, or "soc", someone that does not know the first thing about computers or mechanics or whatever it is your geekomania centers upon, but someone that does know people--and lots of them. You need to network, and a "soc" will help you get by in this socialized world of ours. What you bring to the table are all the strengths that only geeks have--tech savvy, analytical abilities, academic prowess, book knowledge, and other skills according to your geeky DNA. Our heavily technical, systematic and rule-bound world absolutely requires geeks, as every geek already knows.
That's right, opposites attract; it takes two to form a complete human organism. By ourselves, whether we are "socs" or "geeks", we are incomplete. Joined with our opposite, completion results, and the organism can survive and thrive in modern society.
A caveat--humility is required for such a team of opposites to function with any effectiveness. Know your weaknesses as well as your strengths. Compromise, especially in areas where you are weak, only insisting upon your will in areas where you are strong. So many fools refuse to compromise and tear apart their relationships out of sheer stubbornness and pride. It is not "being a man" to be alone and proud. I think it is marvelous to say "yes" all the time, whenever possible, and reserve "no's" for quite extraordinary circumstances. One should be desirous of pleasing one's partner, however possible and to the extent of one's abilities.
That's right, opposites attract; it takes two to form a complete human organism. By ourselves, whether we are "socs" or "geeks", we are incomplete. Joined with our opposite, completion results, and the organism can survive and thrive in modern society.
A caveat--humility is required for such a team of opposites to function with any effectiveness. Know your weaknesses as well as your strengths. Compromise, especially in areas where you are weak, only insisting upon your will in areas where you are strong. So many fools refuse to compromise and tear apart their relationships out of sheer stubbornness and pride. It is not "being a man" to be alone and proud. I think it is marvelous to say "yes" all the time, whenever possible, and reserve "no's" for quite extraordinary circumstances. One should be desirous of pleasing one's partner, however possible and to the extent of one's abilities.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Wasted Time?
Like many Americans, judging from what I read on the Web, I'm overeducated but underemployed. It seems like there is no advantage to knowledge or brains unless one has attained specific experience in precise technical fields. The obstacles to entering a new profession or even remaining in a profession appear steep.
A case in point is registered nursing, a growth field that interested me because of its humanitarian and scientific aspect. I fulfilled all the prerequisites with flying colors, scoring in the highest percentiles in classes and on the nurses' exam. A five-minute interview apparently nixed my application, although I am permitted to reapply in six months' time--how nice, but time is running out for me, as I'm not getting any younger.
The thought of having spent a year on training, only to be told "No" after a strangely abbreviated interview, is dispiriting to say the least. One wonders whether the five-minute chat could have been given prior to the year's worth of classes in order to save time and expense, both for me and the State that financed my tuition. But then, a "Yes" would not necessarily be good either, as it would have set the stage for an additional two years' training at 50+ hours per week and a $10K tuition cost out-of-pocket, quite a significant barrier. I am not sure whether I should mourn rejection or embrace it as a sign that nursing was just not meant to be my path in life. At the beginning of my journey, I thought that my capabilities might be put to use to help those in real need or lessen someone's pain. There was an incipient Crusader impulse to help others, to do good, but that impulse has been nipped in the bud, as my services are apparently not needed in the medical field.
Another dream has died an agonizing death, but good riddance to it. I am not sure what hidden factors might have been at play during that interview, but a part of me finds it curious that I scored at the highest level in all the classes that I took and yet was rejected. There is a temptation to analyze and speculate about the causes for rejection, but I'm reluctant to do so in the absence of any evidence. I've learned from experience that one can seldom know for certain the motivations of others. There may be a hidden hand at play or there may not, but even if I were smart enough to deduce the facts, the outcome would remain unchanged.
The past year, it seems, I've been spinning my wheels on an education treadmill, accomplishing nothing at the end of my journey beyond assisting the college in its siphoning of funds from the State treasury and my own bank account.
I did enjoy my classes, and I think there were students and even professors that were pleased to see me and grateful for my presence on occasion. Perhaps that is enough. Life is about the journey, not necessarily the destination. The ultimate destination is death, anyway, for all journeyers. At least if I die tomorrow, I will not have any regrets, but feel like I performed to the best of my capabilities and conducted myself in an ethical manner. That is more than some can say. Some people become crazy rich in a short amount of time without working hard. No doubt they vote Republican, if they vote at all.
A case in point is registered nursing, a growth field that interested me because of its humanitarian and scientific aspect. I fulfilled all the prerequisites with flying colors, scoring in the highest percentiles in classes and on the nurses' exam. A five-minute interview apparently nixed my application, although I am permitted to reapply in six months' time--how nice, but time is running out for me, as I'm not getting any younger.
The thought of having spent a year on training, only to be told "No" after a strangely abbreviated interview, is dispiriting to say the least. One wonders whether the five-minute chat could have been given prior to the year's worth of classes in order to save time and expense, both for me and the State that financed my tuition. But then, a "Yes" would not necessarily be good either, as it would have set the stage for an additional two years' training at 50+ hours per week and a $10K tuition cost out-of-pocket, quite a significant barrier. I am not sure whether I should mourn rejection or embrace it as a sign that nursing was just not meant to be my path in life. At the beginning of my journey, I thought that my capabilities might be put to use to help those in real need or lessen someone's pain. There was an incipient Crusader impulse to help others, to do good, but that impulse has been nipped in the bud, as my services are apparently not needed in the medical field.
Another dream has died an agonizing death, but good riddance to it. I am not sure what hidden factors might have been at play during that interview, but a part of me finds it curious that I scored at the highest level in all the classes that I took and yet was rejected. There is a temptation to analyze and speculate about the causes for rejection, but I'm reluctant to do so in the absence of any evidence. I've learned from experience that one can seldom know for certain the motivations of others. There may be a hidden hand at play or there may not, but even if I were smart enough to deduce the facts, the outcome would remain unchanged.
The past year, it seems, I've been spinning my wheels on an education treadmill, accomplishing nothing at the end of my journey beyond assisting the college in its siphoning of funds from the State treasury and my own bank account.
I did enjoy my classes, and I think there were students and even professors that were pleased to see me and grateful for my presence on occasion. Perhaps that is enough. Life is about the journey, not necessarily the destination. The ultimate destination is death, anyway, for all journeyers. At least if I die tomorrow, I will not have any regrets, but feel like I performed to the best of my capabilities and conducted myself in an ethical manner. That is more than some can say. Some people become crazy rich in a short amount of time without working hard. No doubt they vote Republican, if they vote at all.
Avoid Harrassing Calls
Pamela Paul of the New York Times wrote a perceptive article on the decline of the use of the telephone.
One problem with the telephone, which Pamela only touches upon, is that the wrong people call--rude pests, for the most part, neither friends nor acquaintances, but cold-calling telemarketers, organizations looking for handouts, or collection agencies with inaccurate data in their database. Collection agencies, in particular, are both persistent and pernicious. They use computerized dialers, rather than human beings, and will call using a variety of telephone numbers, every day, multiple times a day, never ceasing, and in some cases not even leaving a message, but disconnecting as soon as the phone is answered. They call in order to harass, to apply pressure. In essence, they are using the telephone as a weapon against the telephone user.
There exists, as might be expected, a technological solution to technological aggression. Call Clerk is a robotic butler that intercepts and routes calls depending upon their Caller ID. It requires a PC equipped with a modem to be left on twenty-four hours a day, which may seem wasteful of electricity but, in truth, nowadays it is nice to have a PC on all the time in order to check email and browse the Internet. I would suggest using a laptop for the purpose if energy consumption is an issue, although Intel has created admirable energy misers for the desktop in the form of the Atom line of processors. I am no longer a fan of AMD's solutions, because AMD uses ATI for video in its line of gpus, and ATI offers woefully inadequate support for Linux.
Call Clerk routes identified pests to an announcement that tells them they have been cast into the outer darkness. Then it disconnects their call after only two rings, limiting the annoyance factor. In conjunction with Call Clerk, all telephone ringers should be disabled, with the PC speakers remaining the only audible signal of phone calls. Friends and unknown callers receive a friendly message and are permitted to leave a message. They are announced via the PC speakers.
Call Clerk transforms the telephone from what it is today, a potential liability and a threat, a weapon of harassment against the user, and returns it to what Alexander Graham Bell envisioned it to be, a convenient form of communication.
Configuring the answering message in Call Clerk is difficult at best, particularly if any type of changes are desired. There is no option to change or reduce the volume of the answering message in Call Clerk. The answering machine options are counter-intuitive, capable of defeating even the most determined and technically savvy user from making any modifications whatsoever to the outgoing message.
Perhaps in the future, a program will become available that can use .mp3 files as an answering machine message and play them without distortion. Until that time, Call Clerk remains an interim solution, satisfactory in some, if not all respects. It does not have a Linux version, but requires Windows, which adds an extra $75 - $100 to the actual cost of the product, along with the many other hidden costs associated with Windows systems. However, it does work with Windows XP and does the job I purchased it for, which is to weed out harassing calls.
In an ideal world, telephone pests that call on a daily basis for months without end would be identified, arrested by the police in their locality, and prosecuted for harassment. But the agencies that pester people by telephone on a daily basis have managed to dodge government action for the most part, including the so-called "Do-Not-Call" Registry, which is an unfunny joke that lulls the naive into a false sense of security.
One problem with the telephone, which Pamela only touches upon, is that the wrong people call--rude pests, for the most part, neither friends nor acquaintances, but cold-calling telemarketers, organizations looking for handouts, or collection agencies with inaccurate data in their database. Collection agencies, in particular, are both persistent and pernicious. They use computerized dialers, rather than human beings, and will call using a variety of telephone numbers, every day, multiple times a day, never ceasing, and in some cases not even leaving a message, but disconnecting as soon as the phone is answered. They call in order to harass, to apply pressure. In essence, they are using the telephone as a weapon against the telephone user.
There exists, as might be expected, a technological solution to technological aggression. Call Clerk is a robotic butler that intercepts and routes calls depending upon their Caller ID. It requires a PC equipped with a modem to be left on twenty-four hours a day, which may seem wasteful of electricity but, in truth, nowadays it is nice to have a PC on all the time in order to check email and browse the Internet. I would suggest using a laptop for the purpose if energy consumption is an issue, although Intel has created admirable energy misers for the desktop in the form of the Atom line of processors. I am no longer a fan of AMD's solutions, because AMD uses ATI for video in its line of gpus, and ATI offers woefully inadequate support for Linux.
Call Clerk routes identified pests to an announcement that tells them they have been cast into the outer darkness. Then it disconnects their call after only two rings, limiting the annoyance factor. In conjunction with Call Clerk, all telephone ringers should be disabled, with the PC speakers remaining the only audible signal of phone calls. Friends and unknown callers receive a friendly message and are permitted to leave a message. They are announced via the PC speakers.
Call Clerk transforms the telephone from what it is today, a potential liability and a threat, a weapon of harassment against the user, and returns it to what Alexander Graham Bell envisioned it to be, a convenient form of communication.
Configuring the answering message in Call Clerk is difficult at best, particularly if any type of changes are desired. There is no option to change or reduce the volume of the answering message in Call Clerk. The answering machine options are counter-intuitive, capable of defeating even the most determined and technically savvy user from making any modifications whatsoever to the outgoing message.
Perhaps in the future, a program will become available that can use .mp3 files as an answering machine message and play them without distortion. Until that time, Call Clerk remains an interim solution, satisfactory in some, if not all respects. It does not have a Linux version, but requires Windows, which adds an extra $75 - $100 to the actual cost of the product, along with the many other hidden costs associated with Windows systems. However, it does work with Windows XP and does the job I purchased it for, which is to weed out harassing calls.
In an ideal world, telephone pests that call on a daily basis for months without end would be identified, arrested by the police in their locality, and prosecuted for harassment. But the agencies that pester people by telephone on a daily basis have managed to dodge government action for the most part, including the so-called "Do-Not-Call" Registry, which is an unfunny joke that lulls the naive into a false sense of security.
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