A few Observations From a Garrulous Geezer

A Random Randomnesses Column

Image by Max Yakovlev from Pixabay

This is a weekly column of letters to my perspicacious progeny — the Stickies — to advise them now and haunt them when I'm deleted.  

Trigger Warning: This column is rated SSC: Sexy Seasoned Citizens   

About 

Glossary 

Featuring Dana: Persistent auditory hallucination and charming literary device

"All you need is love." -John Lennon (A yellow submarine would be cool too) 

Dear Stickies (and gentlereaders),

You may be old, or at least getting there waaay too fast, when you encounter some input that reveals that hip-hop has been around long enough to join AARP having recently celebrated its 50th birthday and you're at least mildly shocked.  

"Kool Herc made history in 1973 when he and his sister hosted the “Back to School Jam” in the recreation room of their Bronx apartment building at 1520 Sedgwick Avenue. This historical party is recognized for launching the hip-hop movement."

If you must force yourself to face the fact the eighties are as significant to the many people who are younger than you as the 1960s are to you, you're definitely old.  

{Yeahbut...}

No but. Just because getting old is not what you thought it would be doesn't necessarily make you seem any younger to the young.

If it makes you feel any better, I personally regard most hip-hop as doggerel with a psyche-smashing backbeat. I heard Winton Marsalis refer to it as the new minstrelsy somewhere, and no shortage of other H. sapiens seem to hold the same opinion.

However, I'm old; I yell at clouds, and no shortage of ancient infidels were appalled by the traditional rock 'n' roll that I fell in love with. A relationship that endures, but ain't what it used to be.

Music fans are aware that at some point after WW2 recording technology advanced to the point that musicians and recording techies gradually began using the technology to not only dramatically improve the sound quality of the recordings, it enabled them to turn recording studios into musical instruments.  

It became possible to create songs that were difficult to play live. Purists complained, most musicians, and most of the public (including me, growing up while taking it for granted) embraced it. 

Very long story short, technology kept/keeps rapidly evolving, and now unapologetic "disrupters" are using AI to write and even "perform" songs constructed of the pieces/parts of potentially anything ever recorded. 

We've gone from H. sapiens creatively using comparatively limited technology to the ability to "borrow" chunks of the work of others and create mash-ups using computer-generated "instruments" and/or computer-enhanced real instruments and/or computer-generated voices and/or computer-enhanced voices.

And for some mysterious reason, it sounds cold, repetitive, and empty despite regularly adding in some eardrum-busting bass to try and give it some soul. 

I've written about encountering the phrases based on facts that meet fiction and representationally accurate that I've seen used in place of the formerly ubiquitous based on a true story.

I've recently encountered this is a fictional account based on deeply researched facts.

As far as I know, for some reason, no one uses anything like my (recently updated) version:

"The content you're about to consume is an allegedly more or less sorta/kinda accurate depiction that has been sliced, diced, tweaked, sexed-up, dumbed-down, and/or altered in any number of ways to make it more entertaining and hopefully more likely to make some money. It's based on facts that meet fiction, a representationally accurate fictional account based on the deeply researched facts of a true story.

{Impressive, I forgot that you got kicked out of law school for not cheating.}    

Spokespersons from the D.I.E. (diversity, inclusion, and equity) departments of several well-known, prestigious, and obscenely expensive colleges and universities have contacted me and pointed out that the word "geezerettes" is blatantly ageist, sexist and might make queer folx of various and sundry denominations feel unsafe.

{Queer! You can't say...}

Clearly, you're not as chill as I am. You can not only say it you can get a degree, in Queer studies. For example, at Denison University, located in my little corner of Flyoverland (Ohio). It costs $79,400 a year but that includes three hots and a cot.

{Do people still say chill?}

If you provide your own food and shelter it's only $57,500 a year. Word to the wise? Living in a tent in Ohio — aka southern Canada — can be somewhat problematic.

You may have heard, or been told something similar to:

"And in the end

The love you take

Is equal to the love you make" -Lennon/McCartney 

Permit me to/forgive me for pointing out that this just ain't true. In the end, you may discover that you have "made more love" than you received.    

{What are you talking about?}

Me mum (thinking about the Beetles sometimes causes me to write with an English accent). It's quite simple really. In the end, if she had been asked, and if she answered honestly, she would've had to admit she had given far more love, in all sorts of ways, than she received in return. 

I'll grant you that she was loved by lots of people, but to assume that this was necessarily of any practical value in any given situation, or to claim that "in the end" giving and receiving will balance out, is just wrong. 

Sweet — and giving without expecting an eventual balancing of the books is virtuous under the right circumstances, and with good guardrails in place — but wrong.  

Poppa loves you,

Have an OK day

Scroll down to comment/share/access oldies. You can tip me, or Join Cranky's Coffee Club (and access my condensed History of the World) here.    

I post links to my columns on both Facebook and Twitter so you can love me, hate me, or lobby to have me canceled or publically flogged on either site.  

  

You May Not Be Interested In War, or Politics For That Matter, But...

Image by Andy from Pixabay

This is a weekly column of letters to my perspicacious progeny — the Stickies — to advise them now and haunt them when I'm deleted.  

Trigger Warning: This column is rated SSC: Sexy Seasoned Citizens   

About 

Glossary 

Featuring Dana: Persistent auditory hallucination and charming literary device 

"One of the penalties for refusing to participate in politics is that you end up being governed by your inferiors." -Plato

Dear Stickies (and gentlereaders),  

{Trotsky, right?}

Wrong. 

{So you weren't planning on using his famous quote to...}

What I planned on doing was expounding... 

{Pontificating you mean?}

Expounding about how easily you can substitute the word politics for the word war and then, um... expounding away. 

However, I discovered that apparently the famous quote "You may not be interested in war, but war is interested in you" should not be attributed to Mr. Trotsky., whose real name, for the record, was Leon Bronstein. 

Whereupon I decided it was important to begin by first pointing out that the famous quote in question is incorrectly attributed.     

{Because?} 

Well, even as I write, artificial intelligences (intelligenci?) are roaming cyberspace and eating everything they can get their virtual hands on. I suspect that AI will not save me from drowning in the Dizzinformation Ocean in the short term but perhaps they will eventually drag the Stickies out of the water and deposit them safely on the beach. Eventually. Maybe.  

Assuming, of course, they (the AIs, not the Stickies) don't achieve self-consciousness at some point and decide to enslave and/or murder all the meat puppets instead. 

{I still don't...}

Think about it. 

The intelligenci need to feed on as much accurate information as possible in order to provide us with accurate answers (or make connections/draw conclusions we never thought of) once we're all verbally asking them questions instead of typing queries into our search engine of choice and being showered with a bajillion hits. 

This seems to be the direction we're headed. After all, Captain Kirk's command chair didn't come with a keyboard. He would just say, "Computer," ask his question, get his answer, and then save the universe. 

I'm just doing my part to help build a brave new world.

{You're my hero! Hey, do you think that "Computer" was listening in when Kirk was...}

Pericles is credited with saying "Just because you don't take an interest in politics doesn't mean politics won't take an interest in you." I used to peer down my stubby little proboscis at people who proudly declaim they have no interest in politics. 

I apologize. Life, and politicians, have made me more sympathetic to that particular outlook. In my defense, I'm cursed with an innate interest in the subject made worse by Sister Mary McGillicuddy. 

The Sisters of Charity, at least back in my distant day, were concerned with political solutions to remedy social injustices for black people (among others); Sister Mary made it clear that her little-fledging Catholics had better be too. 

This was the old-fashioned, Martin Luther Kingish version of social justice, equality, not equity. That is to say, equality of opportunity not equality of outcomes which, in my semi-humble opinion, is common sense. 

Has divvying up the caramel apple pie ever equally satisfied all the kids salivating over a slice?  

Interestingly, when I submitted the term equality vs. equity to the Goog's Generative AI ("Generative AI is experimental. Info quality may vary.") it responded:

"Equity and equality are often used interchangeably, but they have different meanings. Equality means giving everyone the same resources or opportunities. Equity recognizes (my emphasis) that people have different circumstances and allocates the resources and opportunities needed to reach an equal outcome." 

{Sigh... This is a much different column than the one you thought you were writing, isn't it?} 

Well... not entirely, stay tuned.

Please note the word recognizes and how it's used four sentences above. Note that if it were changed to maintains, the paragraph would have a different meaning. It would reiterate that equality and equity are substantially different concepts and be more objective, not a sneaky slice of opinion. 

And by the way, just who is it that's in charge of allocating the resources and opportunities?

{That's just your opinion.}  

Maybe, maybe not, but a few sentences later it added:    

"Equity is primarily about equality of opportunity, not outcomes. Achieving equality of opportunity requires both equality and equity."

{Huh?}

Exactly, This is a meaningless word salad, with dressing.  

{Perhaps the Goog's Generative AI is a Kamala Harris fan?}  

Perhaps Gigi (my pet name for Google's Generative AI) is being developed by a firm that's openly chock full of Wokies that are deliberately, or inadvertently, skewing GiGi's answers. 

{I'm sure it's inadvertent, after all, the Goog is well known for its impartial search engine results that have nothing to do with politics or generating advertising revenue. However, knowing that the Goog is looking over one shoulder and GiGi's looking over the other when I'm seeking information is kinda creepy.} 

Right, inadvertent... absabalutely.

{I've stayed tuned as instructed and I still have no idea what your word salad has to do with "Just because you don't take an interest in politics doesn't mean politics won't take an interest in you."}  

Oh yeah? Well, that's easy really. Are you gonna make at least a minimal effort to keep up with what's going on in the Swamp — the one North of Richmond, or the one in your neighborhood — or are you gonna take Gigis' (and her friend's) word for it?

Poppa loves you, 

Have an OK day

Scroll down to comment/share/access oldies. You can tip me, or Join Cranky's Coffee Club (and access my condensed History of the World) here.   

I post links to my columns on both Facebook and Twitter so you can love me, hate me, or lobby to have me canceled or publically flogged on either site.   

 

  

 

Crankenomics 103

Cheat Sheet No. 3b

Haves, Sub-haves, and Some-haves, and systemic inflation. 

Image by 1820796 from Pixabay

This is a weekly column consisting of letters to my perspicacious progeny. I write letters to my grandkids — the Stickies — eventual selves to advise them and haunt them after they've become grups and/or I'm deleted.  

Trigger Warning: This column rated SSC — Sexy Seasoned Citizens — Perusal by kids, callowyutes, or grups may result in debilitating psychological trauma.  

 About 

Glossary 

Featuring Dana: Persistent auditory hallucination and charming literary device

"There are no solutions. Only trade-offs." -Thomas Sowell

Dear Stickies and Gentlereaders,

 Our story thus far. This is the third and final column of a series about...

{Wait-wait-wait. You said, that "Cheat Sheets are a sort of distillation of all the stuff I would like to mention, or reiterate, to the Stickies and my daughter and son-in-law in the event of my sudden demise." So how did we wind up with a three-column series?}

Well... my columns feature "the wit and wisdom of a garrulous geezer." Also, it ain't easy squeezing a commentary on economics into three columns of no more than a thousand words each.

{I thought the limit was 750 words?}

Nowadays I strive for 700 to 1,000 because... Well, it's not that interesting really. Can we move on, please?

{Absabalutely, far be it from me! Tell us, Your Garrulousness, how do we resolve what appears to be an impending class war before the shooting starts?}

That's a vast oversimplification of...

{C'mon Sparky, this is the last column in the series. How do we fix this?}

I don't know.

{Aw geez. Then why...}

We've lost the thread, the beat, and our place <pause> and now we're lost in space.

I'm told, much to my surprise, that hip-hop is now officially 50 years old. I'm trying to find a way to get on the gravy train since it looks like real rock 'n' roll is fading as fast as we Boomers. I wonder what sort of music our current president and minority leader of the Senate prefer to listen to?

{Cute... Hey, how about raising the taxes of the rich?}

Despite what you may have heard, we already heavily tax the rich. Regardless, they're ain't nearly enough of them. The sub-haves, and the some-haves are paying most of the bills. The same people whose taxes would go through the roof to fund a socialist paradise by the way, but I drift.

But seriously, folks, I really don't know how to fix the problem, not without a radical restructuring of The Fedrl Gummit and the economy.

Don't hold your breath.

What I do know is that some people have taken to pointing out that we've painted our way into a financial corner that has little to nothing to do with critical this, queer that, systemic racism, and pasty patriarchs. Me for example.

America's most pressing problem, in my semi-humble opinion, is that we're slowly devolving into the postmodern version of a feudal society that will make most of us serfs. The gap between the haves and the have-somes keeps getting larger.

Many of us have-somes aren't willing to go along. But unlike the lunatic fringe, we don't want to burn down the palace (literally or figuratively) and start from scratch. We don't want a new deal, but we'd like a better one.

When the factories and the mills started shutting down back in the late 70s we were told not to worry, that this was merely the same creative destruction that made us a rich country in the first place, an unavoidable side-effect of the free market.

If it's much cheaper to make whatever, wherever, American consumers will reap the rewards at the cash register. Yes, jobs will be lost, some permanently. But new jobs will be created and former employees associates can learn to do them.

Keep growing or die, or at the very least, stagnate. We got this, we've been here before, what could go wrong?

The market is still functioning the way it's supposed to in that there are plenty of jobs to be had, at the moment at least, and labor shortages and "transitory" inflation have resulted in higher wages.

Big BUT.

The haves...

The unimaginably rich who have more money and power than the "Robber Barons" could've dreamed of,

And the sub-haves...

{What's a sub-have?}

Sub-haves are individuals fortunate enough to have enough cheese in the fridge to enable them to feel like their lives rest on a (more or less) solid financial foundation. For example, they find our current transitory inflation to be vexing, not a potential existential crisis.

The haves and the sub-haves aren't being victimized by the decades of systemic inflation and money printing that have slowly and stealthily devalued our currency. They have enough money coming in (or wealth accumulated) to cover the decline of their dollars, at least for now.

The have-somes, on the other hand, are getting it in the neck. Decades of slow but steady inflation of the price of big-ticket items (e.g. houses and cars, and college) plus regular bursts of ("transitory") inflation in the prices of everyday necessities prove the adage that inflation is a secret regressive tax on everything and everyone.

The following quote is from a great article by Richard W. Rahn in The Washington Times that explains simply, briefly, and clearly, why the Inflation Dragon is eating the country alive:

The U.S. government has been slowly destroying the value of the dollar through inflation ever since it created the Federal Reserve (whose job, in part, is to protect the value of the dollar) in 1913. The U.S. dollar is now worth about one-30th of its value in 1914 — which means it takes on average $30 to buy the same amount of goods and services that one dollar bought.

I firmly believe that too many years of The Fedrl Gummit spending more than it takes in, to buy votes without raising taxes, is the primary problem.

{Howsabout a concrete example of something that illustrates the difference between the lives of the haves and the sub-haves from the lives of the have-somes?}

Sure. Anyone who's been around the block a time or three, and for various reasons absolutely can't get by without a car (or two) is amazed at the average price of new ($50,000) and used ($40,000) cars. 

Have-somes, the 60% of us who limp from paycheck to paycheck while always looking over our shoulders, are inclined to have a panic attack when it becomes obvious we need to buy a car since further repairs on old Bessie would require a bank loan. 

Of course, there's always Cousin Eddie's semi-abandoned 24-year-old Ford. He's selling it 'cause he found out he can easily get at least 5k. Runs good, check it out. 

Poppa loves you,

Have an OK day

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Comments? I post links to my columns on Facebook and Twitter so you can love me, hate me, or try to have me canceled on either site.