Showing posts with label modesty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label modesty. Show all posts

Saturday, May 16, 2020

Make America Polite Again


This is a weekly column consisting of letters to my perspicacious progeny. I write letters to my grandchildren (who exist), and my great-grandchildren (who don't) — the Stickies — to haunt them after they become grups or I'm deleted.

                        -Image by MorningbirdPhoto from Pixabay-
                  
Warning: This column is rated SSC — Sexy Seasoned Citizens — Perusal by kids, callowyutes, and/or grups may result in a debilitating intersectional triggering

                                                  Glossary  

                                                    About

Erratically Appearing Hallucinatory Guest Star: Dana — A Gentlerreader

"The only rules: be charming, be humane, be smart, and never take yourself too seriously." -Jeffrey A. Tucker


Dear (eventual) Grandstickies & Great-Grandstickies (& Gentlereaders),

Spread the word, King Crank has decided on his campaign slogan, Make America Polite Again (MAPA).

Uncle Joe and Uncle Bernie were more or less shunted aside when folks became preoccupied with surviving the plague. Uncle Joe is still shunted but apparently has secured the nomination as long as Tara Reade's charges don't stick, he doesn't drop dead, or isn't benched for dementia prior to the general election

Meanwhile, the Orange One canned the guy whose job it is (make that was) to keep an eye on how the $2,200,000,000 was spent.

Not to worry though, Aunt Nancy is creating a congressional committee to keep an eye on the checkbook while she's busy printing more money.


Not content to have spent all the money, and then some, and then some more, my fellow Boomers refuse to get off the field/leave the stage. OK, Boomer, retire for God's sake, if you can afford to.

There are three generations lined up behind you waiting for a turn. We need 'em to make babies and keep Social Security and Medicare afloat.   


At least we can take comfort from the fact that all right-thinking Citizens of the Republic have signed on to a provisional ceasefire, putting the culture war on hold...

Dana, what's with the cynical chortling?

[Sorry.]

And since the ravenous pack of professional pols at all levels of gummit, for the time being, are placing what's best for the citizenry ahead of what's best for the career of a given pol...

Dana, please!

[Sorry.]

Even though I'm running for king I shall remain remarkably restrained and not take advantage of the current crisis to attack my opponents for their world-class ball dropping.   

[Their what?]

I won't make much of the fact that the Donald and his minions have had three years to "restock the shelves," cleverly and simultaneously heaping scorn on both the present and the last administration (in which Uncle Joe played a minor role).

[Oh. Why?]

In times of trouble, we must all pull together as a team because when the going gets tough the tough get going, and as Winston Churchill said, "When you're going through hell keep going."

Etcetera.

[Oh. Absolutely. Right.]


Instead, I thought this might be a good time to introduce my campaign slogan, Make America Polite Again (MAPA), given that I've consciously decided to set a good example and not exploit the current situation.

I wrote a column or two now gone missing somewhere in the mists of time about STEM, no, not that STEM. STEM, in this case, is an acronym for strategic good taste, etiquette, and modesty.

In order to MAPA we must implement STEM.

[Impressive. First, a high ground maneuver and then you insert two acronyms into the same sentence, perhaps you're more of a politician than I thought. Pray continue your weaselness.]


I define being polite as an acknowledgment that since we have to share the playground with other kids we need to minimize friction to maximize everyone's fun.

Strategic good taste refers to the fact that what constitutes good taste depends on a given situation and what other kids you're sharing the playground with at any given moment.

Example: A good fart joke, while sharing a drink or two with a like-minded fellow sophisticate, may be just the thing.

Telling the same joke to the minister after congratulating him/her/them on a great sermon may not.


Etiquette has little or nothing to do with extending your pinkie while sipping your tea as demurely as possible. It's simply trying not to irritate/repulse others.

Examples: Chewing with your mouth open is repulsive. Setting your phone on speaker and holding it a foot from your mouth and yelling at it so that anyone within hearing can share in your fascinating conversation is irritating.

It may also result in injury or death — yours.


And finally, modesty. Everyone knows why, or should, that braggadocio is usually tacky and uncalled for. If you don't, ask your mum to explain it to you. Example: Forming a chorus line to celebrate scoring a touchdown.

Also, although the awokened have awakened us all to the fact that males reacting like feral, horny dogs to even the slightest visual provocation, intentional or otherwise by females isn't basic biology, it's toxic masculinity, there are limits.

You may (or not) be hot, but believe it or not, we don't all want to see your _______. We especially don't want our kids to see your _______.

Poppa loves you,
Have an OK day

Please scroll down to react, comment, or share. If my work pleases you I wouldn't be offended if you offered to buy me some cheap coffee.  

                                                   *     *     *

Your friendly neighborhood crank is not crazy about social media (I am a crank after all) but if you must, you can like me/follow me on Facebook. 

Cranky don't tweet.
 








 



Saturday, August 12, 2017

STEM (Part Two)

If you're new here, this is a weekly column consisting of letters written to my grandchildren (who exist) and my great-grandchildren (who aren't here yet) -- the Stickies -- to haunt them after they become grups and/or I'm dead.

[Bloggaramians: Blogarama renders the links in my columns useless. Please click on View original (above) to solve the problem/access lotsa columns.]

Irregularly Appearing Imaginary Guest Stars
Marie-Louise -- My sublime, drop-dead gorgeous muse (right shoulder) and back scratcher 
Iggy -- Designated Sticky
Dana -- Designated gentlereader (left shoulder)

"The only rules: be charming, be humane, be smart, and never take yourself too seriously." -Jeffrey A. Tucker


Dear (eventual) Grandstickies & Great-Grandstickies, 

In my last letter I talked about how I've watched, in the course of my life, America go from cultural consensus (more or less) to cultural chaos. I talked about, and briefly defined, the elements of my STEM acronym and promised to expand on them.

King Crank's STEM System is not a proposed new consensus. It's some simple rules for people of widely varying consensi to get along. O.K. class, let's review.

ST is for strategic (as opposed to good) taste. Sometimes a good fart joke is just what's called for, but all fart jokes all the time? not so much. That is to say, knowing when to show some class or style, as opposed to knowing when it's time to get down and dirty.

E is for etiquette. As in "the customary code of polite behavior in society...". This was the very first definition that popped up when I googled the E word. See, I'm not talking about, nor do I care, which spoon is for what. I'm talking about some common sense rules to prevent citizens in general, and Bigfeets in particular, from stepping on each other's toes.

M is for modesty. First Google supplied definition, "the quality or state of being unassuming or moderate in the estimation of one's abilities." Third, "behavior, manner, or appearance intended to avoid impropriety or indecency."

In the process of trying to expand on them, I ran into some problems. First and foremost, I discovered that I really didn't have much else to say that amounted to more than gilding the lily (although in my case, painting the petunia is probably a better metaphor).

Strategic Taste. We have to share the playground so take the trouble to note where you are and who else is within earshot and speak and act accordingly.

Etiquette. Good manners would be a better choice but etiquette works better acronym wise. Please/thanks/excuse me etc.

Modesty. Almost no one is as smart or as (b)right as they think they are. And be an exhibitionist, I don't care. But only when your audience is willing one, not a captive one.

Bottom line. By all means, do your thing, but always keep in mind that your mom or your kids, or someone else's mom or kids may be watching or listening. Share the space with respect for who you're sharing it with.

It was at this point I hit a wall. Wait a sec', it occurred to me, this stuff is obvious, everyone knows this already. And yet, everyone's coming at everyone else via public and social media.

[Bonkercockie! Clearly, everyone doesn't know this. Furthermore, everyone is not coming at everyone else via whatever. And speaking of points, can we look forward to you making one, at some point?

Oui?

Dana, and Marie-Louise, are in the house, well, in my head at least. Where's Iggy? I inquire.

In his room developing hearing loss, can't you hear the exploding F-bombs? Dana responds.

Yeah, now that you mention it. Will one of you please deal with it? Watch out for psychic shrapnel.]


My imaginary dynamic duo just serendipitously, but accurately, explained the wall referenced above and have shown me a way around it. I stated that almost everyone already knows how to maintain peace on the playground. I should've added -- assuming they want to, or need to.

The Want To's are the (more or less) well-adjusted kids, callowyutes, grups, and sexy seasoned citizens. They're everywhere and far outnumber (for now at least) Need To's and Bigfeets. They practice my STEM System without ever having heard of it.

However, Bigfeets get most of the attention. Bigfeets, and their antics, are a major source of revenue for the Infotainment Industrial Complex. Being a self-admitted current events junkie, my everyone coming at everyone concept may be an inch or two over the top.

The Need To's are the (more or less) mal-adjusted kids, callowyutes, grups, and sexy seasoned citizens. Even those that have been raised by the human equivalent of feral cats, will, when it suits their purposes (getting what they want or trying to get out of trouble) suddenly develop social skills.

While all Bigfeets, when necessary, are Need To's, Need To's are not necessarily Bigfeets. It's complicated so I'm just gonna' leave that one lie there and move on.

I've witnessed this a proverbial million times (I am 39 after all). When cornered, all sorts of um, interesting people -- from the allegedly to the genuinely disadvantaged, from the sociopathic to the psychopathic -- instantly discover the ability to go along to get along to get out of trouble.

[Permit me to congratulate you on your keen grasp of the obvious, dear boy! May one enquire if you're planning on making a point, at some point, in the near fu-cha, sir? Dana's back and has acquired a British accent.

Marie-Louise is scratching my back, she knows where I'm headed.]


I maintain that our fragmented consensus is a Humpty Dumpty level problem. All King Crank's horses and all King Crank's men can't put the consensus together again.

So -- rather than joining the Global Whiners Club and devolving into yet another geezer endlessly bemoaning the gone but not forgotten good ol' days (the pointless pursuit of utopia, in reverse) I've posited my STEM System.

This is -- admittedly, a mere repackaging of literally ancient common sense notions of civilized behavior.

To serve -- as a reminder for some; a primer for others.

BIG BUT.

It dawned on my dim self, in the course of writing this letter, that the aftermath of the collapse of consensus -- the toxic, left-over radiation with a long half-life, if you will -- is the real problem. People can get along if they're wired that way, or are forced to (even Bigfeets). Or, if there's a threat from another playground. We were a more or less united nation after 9/11, for about five minutes.

The real problem? People that don't want to get along, with sensibilities maintained at a fever pitch by the Infotainment Industrial Complex.

The -- demonize don't compromise, the end justifies the means, we're clearly right you're clearly wrong so shut up, it's payback time, gotta break a few eggs to make a utopian omelet, not in my backyard,  _______, God is on our side, etcetera, ad nauseam, ad infinitum -- set.

Hoo-boy. Sometimes I'm glad I'm old.

Let us not end on a depressing note. Here, for your entertainment, are a bunch of musically updated nursery rhymes that begin with a sorta/kinda latin hip-hop version of Humpty Dumpty that's been viewed more than 250,000,000 times!?! Poppa loves you.

Have an OK day.


[P.S. Gentlereaders, for 25¢ a week, no, seriously, for 25¢ a week you can become a Patron of this weekly column and help to prevent an old crank from running the streets at night in search of cheap thrills and ill-gotten gains.

If there are some readers out there that think my shtuff is worth a buck or three a month, color me honored, and grateful. Regardless, if you like it, could you please share it? There are buttons at the end of every column.]


©2017 Mark Mehlmauer   (The Flyoverland Crank)

If you're reading this on my website (where there are tons of older columns, a glossary, and other goodies) and if you wish to react (way cooler than liking) -- please scroll down.






























































Saturday, August 5, 2017

STEM (Part One)

If you're new here, this is a weekly column consisting of letters written to my grandchildren (who exist) and my great-grandchildren (who aren't here yet) -- the Stickies -- to haunt them after they become grups and/or I'm dead.

[Bloggaramians: Blogarama renders the links in my columns useless. Please click on View original (above) to solve the problem/access lotsa columns.]

Irregularly Appearing Imaginary Guest Stars
Marie-Louise -- My sublime, drop-dead gorgeous muse (right shoulder) and back scratcher 
Iggy -- Designated Sticky
Dana -- Designated gentlereader (left shoulder)

"Compassion is the basis of morality." -Arthur Schopenhauer


Dear (eventual) Grandstickies & Great-Grandstickies,

A few letters back, Wild-Eyed Libertarian (Part Two) to be exact, I talked about my conservative impulses. I pointed out that I don't consider them to be conservative impulses. To me, they're just a combination of my natural inclinations, life lessons, and coming of age at the tail end of the Black and White Ages.

I mentioned modesty (M), strategic taste (ST), and good manners (GM). I created an acronym (GMMST) designed to roll easily off the tongue and be easy to remember. This was because I planned on returning to the subject. I'm returning to the subject.

The acronym mentioned above, in the time honored tradition of our consumer culture, is now NEW and IMPROVED! It's been newed and improved to the title of this missive, STEM, which stands for strategic taste, etiquette, and modesty.

[Brief digression -- when I use phrase consumer culture I do so without snark and/or sarcasm. I'm a fan and a future letter will be devoted to the subject.]

As far as the other current use, and significance, of the acronym in question -- the study of/training in the fields of science, technology, engineering, and math -- that's yet another letter. However, in the short term, I'm unashamedly appropriating it for my own non-nefarious purposes.


I'm a sexy seasoned citizen who has reached the ripe old age of 39. I was born in the Black and White Ages and survived the sixties. (The sixties began in 1965 and ended in the fall of 1977 when the movie Saturday Night Fever was released.) I'm delighted (mostly) to have lived long enough to meet the Jetsons.

I'm a (happy) cultural warrior of sorts. However, I'm not allied with any of the more vocal factions in our currently raging culture war(s). I'm neither a conservative _______ (insert name of a given old school religion, here), a passionate progressive, or a militant atheist. Organized religion just ain't my thing. 

I want to live in a culture that can be summed up by my (destined to be famous) Playground Analogy, "I want the playground to have minimum rules and maximum fun. I want just enough rules to give everyone an equal shot at some swing time and neutralize the bullies."

That is, my idea of the good life is a playground where all the kids are free to pursue their individual notion of a good life without feeling the need to bully (or kill) any of the other kids.


There are more than enough Rules&Regs on the books and no shortage of grupstitutes (substitute parents -- legitimate and self-appointed) to enforce them.

BIG BUT.

The devil, as always, resides in a comfortable condo in the details.

For example, it may be hard for you to imagine, but when I was a kid, and later a callowyute, I was taught (among other things):

That most people believed (or should) in some version of a Judeo-Christian God,
That the ten commandments were, well, commanded,
That good-girls didn't do "it" before getting married,
That pregnancy outside of marriage was a disgraceful for a girl/woman and her family,
That divorce was shameful,

Etcetera.

There were many many more rules. Eventually, I discovered there was also lots of exceptions to the rules, and lots of hypocrisy. But most folks at least paid lip service.

Our society (I speak only of the US, consult your local crank if you live elsewhere) then tossed out much of our cultural consensus (the unwritten Rules&Regs) with the Jacuzzi water. Many have since embraced the code of the Bigfeets. Jer-RY! Jer-RY! Jer-RY! Cultural consensus was replaced with cultural chaos.

CC + DS x IIC = Y!

Cultural Chaos + Dizzinformation Syndrome x Infotainment Industrial Complex = Yikes!


Now, my dear Stickies, for all I know, by the time any given one of you reads this in the relatively near or dimly distant future the world may have caught its breath. Or, Having come of age in chaos and taking it for granted, you may legitimately ask, chaos? what chaos? I'm bored.

Regardless, King Crank's STEM System is not a moral or ethical code. It's a way for people with wildly divergent moral or ethical codes, even people unfamiliar with the words moral or ethical, to get along, to peacefully share the playground.

As I've repeatedly promised, I shall be a benevolent, mostly hands off monarch content to remain behind the curtain. I'm just, as they say, puttin' it out there. You can't impose a cultural consensus on a given country anyway without enslaving the citizenry and that's too much like work.

What follows is a truncated explanation of the acronym in question. Part two will expand on all three concepts.

ST is for strategic (as opposed to good) taste. As an intimate friend of mine once said, "Strategic taste refers to, well, here's an example. Sometimes a good fart joke is just what's called for, but all fart jokes all the time? not so much. That is to say, knowing when to show some class or style, as opposed to knowing when it's time to get down and dirty."

[Full disclosure: yes, the quote above appears in a previous letter -- I like it, and it's my column, OK?]

E is for etiquette. As in "the customary code of polite behavior in society...". This was the very first definition that popped up when I googled the E word. It's perfect so I stopped there. See, I'm not talking about, nor do I care, which spoon is for what. I'm talking about some common sense rules to prevent citizens in general, and Bigfeets in particular, from stepping on each other's toes.

M is for modesty. First Google supplied definition, "the quality or state of being unassuming or moderate in the estimation of one's abilities." Third, "behavior, manner, or appearance intended to avoid impropriety or indecency.

In other words, while self-confidence is important, science has demonstrated that many people that think they know what they're doing don't have a clue.  And yeah, you may be hot (or not...) but believe it or not, we don't all want to see your _______. We especially don't want our kids to see your _______. Poppa loves you.

Have an OK day.


[P.S. Gentlereaders, for 25¢ a week, no, seriously, for 25¢ a week you can become a Patron of this weekly column and help to prevent an old crank from running the streets at night in search of cheap thrills and ill-gotten gains.

If there are some readers out there that think my shtuff is worth a buck or three a month, color me honored, and grateful. Regardless, if you like it, could you please share it? There are buttons at the end of every column.]


©2017 Mark Mehlmauer   (The Flyoverland Crank)

If you're reading this on my website (where there are tons of older columns, a glossary, and other goodies) and if you wish to react (way cooler than liking) -- please scroll down.