Facebook & The Goog

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.

[Blogaramians: Blogarama renders the links in my columns useless. Please click on View Original to solve this problem and access lotsa columns.]

Irregularly Appearing Imaginary Guest Stars

Marie-Louise -- My beautiful muse and back scratcher 

Iggy -- My designated Sticky

Dana -- My designated gentlereader

"Sometimes, giving up your privacy is a little like going to the dentist and we have let him have access that no one's ever had."   -Tom Petty

Dear (eventual) Grandstickies & Great-Grandstickies,

Social media has been much in the news lately; the Goog (A.K.A. Google) always seems to be in the news. My psyche's currently featuring a mind movie that's about yinz walking around in the world after I'm dead -- or gliding around in the world on an anti-gravity platform (AGP) of some sort.

You'll be interacting with social media, and the cloud, via an implanted transceiver. Another implant will project a virtual screen in front of you when desired. Both devices, and your AGP, will be controlled by your thoughts.

Your AGP will have a self-driving function so that you can float through the world in a virtual electronic cocoon without having to interact with other meat puppets any more than you wish to.

Well, until all of your devices and software suddenly go dark because you were zapped by a raygun of some sort (I hope I'm not being too technical for you) wielded by an evil ne'er-do-well intent on robbery, or worse, and you land on your face.

There will always be evil ne'er-do-wells. Virtual cocoons are as temporary as real ones. Good -- life would be rather dreary otherwise. Think about this.

The above is not the point I set out to make but since it's a good point I shall leave it stand.

If you ain't paying for it, you're not the customer, you're the product.

That's the point I set out to make. It's certainly not original to me, in fact, you can trace its roots back to 1973.

The reason that social media is much in the news is that a series of scandals/new European privacy laws/revelations/etceterations have revealed to, or reminded, Mr. and Ms. Plebensky that the statement above is true.

I'm so old that I can remember when computers were as big as a small house, required a dedicated AC unit, and, were tended by clipboard-toting technicians in white lab coats.

There was no internet when these giants weren't roaming the earth. Computers were around long before there was much of an internet to speak of. And yes, I miss how much easier it was to maintain a bit of personal privacy back in the Black & White ages.

However, I don't need constant reminding that the data I generate interacting with "free" software and related services are sliced, diced, and sold to the highest bidder.

I'm so old that I know there's no such thing as a free lunch.

Big But

The maxim is not complete. It should be: If you ain't paying for it, you're not the customer, you're the product -- but, everyone wins bright, shiny door prizes just for showing up.

Tell 'em, Johnny! 

Well, Wink, In exchange for letting our Algorithmites, Data Dragons, and Botmonsters lose in your life, social media will enable you to effortlessly exchange all sorts of shtuff with other H. sapiens without having to get dressed and leave the house, free and no charge. 

As to the omnipresent, the Goog, you name it and they've got it, free or on the cheap. Blogging platforms, office suites, world-class search tools, cloud storage, Chrome books and boxes... why, the list goes on and on! 

[Wait,wait,wait... I for one am not crazy about inviting Algorithmites, Data Dragons, and Botmonsters into my home.]     

You're in good (and numerous) company, Dana. But the thing is, you don't have to actively avail yourself of the services of the data harvesting industry. I personally know all sorts of people that go out of their way not to and who are doing just fine.

I know of other people that enthusiastically participate in our brave new world but have discovered that with a little bit of knowledge and effort it's not that hard to electronically cover your electronic tracks.

[Yeahbut I heard you can't erase all traces. And short of living in a cave in the otherwhere, some of your personal data is parked in a database and/or sitting on a server somewhere.]

Welcome to 2018. Until someone develops a subdivision of caves with indoor plumbing, climate control, and Wifi, I'm staying put and counting my blessings.


Hopefully, My Dear Stickies, we'll work it all out without becoming too much like Xi Jinping's (A.K.A. Xi Dada) China. The Zuck's in trouble again for telling fibs about Facebook. Some of the social justice warriors that The Goog likes to hire, and encourage, have begun chewing on the hand that feeds them.

Gotta run. The techs are here to install the T1 line I ordered for Casa de Chaos. 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.]


©2018 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 comment — or react (way cooler than liking, and Facebook doesn't keep track) — please scroll down. 

 

Housekeeping & Racism (HT:GDA)

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.

[Blogaramians: Blogarama renders the links in my columns useless. Please click on View Original to solve this problem and access lotsa columns.]

Irregularly Appearing Imaginary Guest Stars

Marie-Louise -- My beautiful muse and back scratcher 

Iggy -- My designated Sticky

Dana -- My designated gentlereader

"Bias and prejudice are attitudes to be kept in hand, not attitudes to be avoided." -Charles Curtis, Hoobert Heever's VP (and a politician that could legitimately claim Native-American ancestry).

Dear (eventual) Grandstickies & Great-Grandstickies,

This part, the housekeeping part, is directed mainly at my gentlereaders. FYI, this missive exceeds the WPC limit by a hundred words or so, but you get two columns for the price of one.

I'm sure you're probably sick of the endless media info-storm so let me answer the question all my gentlereaders are asking. Why did he reverse the direction of the Blog Archive?

As those of you who read my column at the source (my web page) already know there's a techno-generic looking button at the top and to the right labeled Blog Archive. Until recently, clicking on this button would provide access to every column I've written in the last (almost) three years, counter-clockwise counter-historically.

Clicking on that same button now will still provide access to every column I've ever written, but now, clockwise historically.

[Huh?]

Think of it this way.

If you had printed out all of my columns from the very beginning and put them in a binder, my very first column would be the very first column you would see upon opening your treasured binder.

Click the Blog Archive button and you will have this same experience, virtually.
The archive starts with my first blog post/column/letter.

[Uh huh... why?]

When I first began cranking out my feeble scribbles, I mentioned in the About Me box (scroll down a couple of inches below the Blog Archive button) that reading the columns in the order they were published would provide an extra dimension or two as to what I'm trying to get across.

Once (much to my surprise...) I had accumulated quite a few columns because I'd actually stuck with my plan to write a new one every week, advising gentlereaders to read them from the beginning seemed goofy.

However, the mysterious GDA credited in the title of this missive pointed out that reading me from the beginning does indeed provide an additional dimension (maybe two) to what I'm trying to say. That's not exactly how it was put but it's close enough and in this space (although unfortunately nowhere else) I'm God (GRIN).

Besides...

It occurred to me (eventually...) that at the end of every current letter one can scroll down and not only comment -- or click on a Smile/Enlightened Infotainment/Epic Fail button without Facebook adding it to your Permanent Record Card (just sayin')...

And...

Older Posts is floating around down there (it should look like a button but doesn't) that will provide access to the previous week's letter (which will provide access to the letter before that...) if you just want to dip into the past with a virtual big toe.

The Other Part

This part is directed to anyone who is still reading. It contains an opinion and a fact. I don't wish to dedicate an entire column to them because both are about the race thing. I'm in the midst of dealing with some serious health problems and I've no desire to court controversy.

[Excuse me, the race thing?]

Yeah Dana, the race thing. A subject that's beaten to death daily but never dies. According to social justice warriors, I'm a member in good(?) standing of the White Heteropatriarchy. As such I have two things I wish to say about the race thing and I'm done.

First, the opinion. I'm old. I've been around long enough to have met a lot of people and I confess that the majority were/are white. I estimate that Nowadays 99% of the melaninically challenged Citizens of the Republic could give a damn what race/color/creed/sexual orientation/etceteration anybody, including our fellow privileged saltines, identifies as or with.

Live and let live; pay your own way if at all possible. If you really can't, we want to help/have you helped. Let's get real. The welfare state isn't (and shouldn't be) going away. What we're fighting about its structure and size. Personally, I think that Singapore figured it out a long time ago.

Hint: They have a cradle to grave social security system built on real money and individual choice/responsibility, not a Ponzi scheme run by The Gummit.


Second, the fact. The concept of implicit bias is pure, unadulterated bonkercockie -- it's also a growth industry.

1998, the implicit association test is born, the world will never be the same. A very long story short...

Two social psychologists "...developed a new tool that measures the unconscious roots of prejudice." (from a press release).

2013. A bestselling book, by the same shrinks, spreads the word. Implicit bias goes viral.

2015. The same two "scientists", in a jargon-heavy paper written in Mandarin, referencing said wonder-tool (am I the only one reminded of Ron Popeil), point out that its "problematic to use it to classify persons as likely to engage in discrimination," and "attempts to diagnostically use such measures for individuals risk undesirably high rates of erroneous classifications."

[In other words... Sure, our test is bogus, but we're still making a very nice living (and so are a lot of other people) by pretending it ain't.]

Full disclosure: the preceding was gleaned from The Creators of the Implicit Association Test Should Get Their Story Straight by Jesse Singal, an article that explains the scam in detail (and in English) if you're interested.

Lotsa money is being made by "experts" laboring to exorcise the demons of implicit bias based on science discredited by the original scientists. They even managed to close all the company owned Starbucks for a day. Hoo-boy. 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.]


©2018 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 comment — or react (way cooler than liking, and Facebook doesn't keep track) — please scroll down. 

News That You Can Use (No. 1)

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.

[Blogaramians: Blogarama renders the links in my columns useless. Please click on View Original to solve this problem and access lotsa columns.]

Irregularly Appearing Imaginary Guest Stars

Marie-Louise -- My beautiful muse and back scratcher 

Iggy -- My designated Sticky

Dana -- My designated gentlereader

"The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting." -- Sun Tzu

Dear (eventual) Stickies & Great-Grandstickies,

[Stickies and gentlereaders: "News You Can Use" is the title of a feature that's been a feature of various and sundry media outlets since the dead trees format ruled the Earth. Often legitimately, sometimes sarcastically (HT: WSJ/James Freeman).

I've added the word That, and do hereby declare my intention to crank out an occasional column that will contain legitimate/sarcastic/hybrid news -- That, you can use.]


While I'm certain, My Dear Stickies, that none of you will even consider experimenting with recreational pharmaceuticals till your cerebral cortex is completely mature (age 25) and/or that by the time you're grups we will have come to our senses, as things stand just now...

"Portugal's policy rests on three pillars: one, that there's no such thing as a soft or hard drug, only healthy and unhealthy relationships with drugs;

Two, that an individual's unhealthy relationship with drugs often conceals frayed relationships with loved ones, with the world around them, and with themselves;

And three that the eradication of all drugs is an impossible goal (my emphasis).

The paragraph above is from an article written by Susana Ferreira, and published in The Guardian on 12/5/2017, about why Portugal called a truce in the war on drugs.


I recently read somewhere that Attorney General Jeff Sessions (full disclosure, I'm not a fan) is happy that he recused himself from the perpetual investigation into whether the Donald and the Pooteen are tangled up in a bromance.

Mr. Sessions enjoys being America's top cop and his recusal frees up his time. See, he can concentrate on eradicating other stains on America's character, like the use of recreational pharmaceuticals.



"On November 18, 1918, prior to ratification of the Eighteenth Amendment, the U.S. Congress passed the temporary Wartime Prohibition Act which banned the sale of alcoholic beverages...." --Wikipedia

America went dry and criminals all over America broke out the champagne and raised a toast to The Gummit. Let the profiteering and bloodletting begin! The law of...

[Wait, wait,wait... This ain't news, this is ancient history. I thought...]

Hold on Dana... The law of unexpected consequences was triggered and this failed experiment was ended in 1933. Yes, everyone (well...) knows this.

Big But

Prior to The Gummit coming to its senses, the Federal Bureau of Narcotics (the DEAs grandfather) was born in 1930. It was run by one Harry J. Anslinger, a veteran of the Bureau of Prohibition.

Thus, Mr. Anslinger, and many of his fellow teetotalers from the Bureau of Prohibition, were spared the indignity of being on the dole during the Great Depression.

The war on drugs is a holding action and the battle has raged for better than ninety years. It...

[Fine, I didn't know that, but still, it ain't news, it's olds.]

True, but the fact that Portugal called a truce in 2001 and has gained control of its drug problem is news in that most of the world doesn't seem to have noticed.

The British paper the Guardian did.

[Fine then. So, what happened?]


From the Guardian, "...Portugal became the first country to decriminalize the possession and consumption of all illicit substances. ...those caught with a personal supply might be given a warning, a small fine, or told to appear before a local commission -- a doctor, a lawyer and a social worker -- about treatment, harm reduction, and...support services."

"...criminal penalties are still applied to drug growers, dealers and traffickers." -Wikipedia

Back to The Guardian: "The opioid crisis soon stabilized, and the ensuing years saw dramatic drops in problematic drug use, HIV and hepatitis infection rates, overdose deaths, drug-related crime and incarceration rates."

The perpetual war on drugs was canceled and replaced by a public health program.


O.K., well that about sums it up...

[Mon nounours! We are at least a 'undred words short.]

Thanks, Marie-Louise. However, I wish to proffer a lengthy but pointed question that will put us about a hundred words over the official 755 WPC (words per column) limit.


I realize that the gummits, The Gummit and the employees of local, state and federal agencies (roughly 21,000,000 people), for the most part, wish us nothing but the best. Which is cool, because if 1 out of 16 of us works for the gummits or The Gummit, them is (are?) us.

Yet Another Big But

Given that the war on drugs has been going on for better than 90 years and that Portugal figured out that a truce is likely the best one can hope for

And, 

Prior to Harry J. being appointed the first drug Tzar/General/whateveral America regarded drug abuse as a public health problem  

["Marijuana is taken by musicians. And I'm hot speaking about good musicians, but the jazz type." --H.J. Anslinger]

Settle down, Harry J. And in light of how the prohibition of alcohol (Iran bans alcohol...) worked out, and how the war on drugs is working out, and the fact that we're spending $50,000,000/year (in the U.S. alone)...

Shouldn't we be funding a Congressional junket, or perhaps even some folks with a clue, to visit Portugal and ask around? Poppa loves you.

[25 Poppa, seriously?]

Yes, Iggy, seriously.

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.]


©2018 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 comment — or react (way cooler than liking, and Facebook doesn't keep track) — please scroll down. 

The Melting Pot (or not...)

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.

[Blogaramians: Blogarama renders the links in my columns useless. Please click on View Original to solve this problem and access lotsa columns.]

Irregularly Appearing Imaginary Guest Stars

Marie-Louise -- My beautiful muse and back scratcher 

Iggy -- My designated Sticky

Dana -- My designated gentlereader

"Ideas—not identity—should be the driving force of our politics." -Orrin Hatch

Dear (eventual) Grandstickies & Great-Grandstickies,

[Gentlereaders: If you're in a hurry, or, one of the many people that read only the first few sentences of any given online article before moving on, let me save you some of your valuable time and point out that the quote above tells you everything you need to know about this particular column.] 

When I was a callowyute attending Catholic school during the transition from the Black&White Ages to the postmodern paradise we currently inhabit the subject of America as a great melting pot was mentioned by more than one of my teachers. 


What was meant by this concept -- not much mentioned these days so I thought I'd better explain -- is that America was a country/culture of people from myriad other countries and cultures. Also, by definition, ours was a nation designed to maximize the freedom of the individual.  

Freedom is tempered by the facts that we have to share the playground, and that with rights come responsibilities if we wish to remain as free as possible. 

Therefore, in order for us to all get along, we all had to willingly jump into a "melting pot" to create an alloy called America/Americans. Now, I can't remember if it was Miss Crabtree -- there were no Mss. (mizzes) in the Black&White ages -- or Sister Mary McGillicuddy that pointed out that the term American mosaic might be a better analogy.     

That is, America's a mosaic of customs/religions/moralities/etceteralities that are joined together to produce a work of art. Mosaic being the better analogy since in America you could follow your own star as long as you were prepared to let everyone else do the same. 

Well, theoretically anyway. 

That was the ideal state of things. However, on the planet Earth, ideal situations, which may be worth relentlessly pursuing -- as always the devil resides in a comfortable condo in the details -- are seldom possible, never sustainable.


The never-ending American experiment has suffered many failures and setbacks. For example, the struggle to end the national nightmare called Jim Crow, that was peaking while I was the (mostly) clueless callowyute referenced above comes immediately to mind.

Although utopia is never possible, much less sustainable, striving to reach it is laudable, and necessary. Acknowledging it's unobtainable while pursuing it anyway simultaneously serves to keep one's feet on the ground while still providing a reason to keep getting out of bed in the morning.

As I've mentioned elsewhere, I learned from Jordan Peterson that always reaching for better, and then reaching for better than that, is physiologically necessary to maintain a feeling of well being as it prompts my fevered little brain to generate my favorite hormone, dopamine, my drug of choice.


The Road to Tribalism
Alternatively, you can embrace Intersectionality. Intersectionality enables you to join all sorts of groups (tribes) of victims and ultimately construct a super-group (powerful tribe) of fellow victims who've been victimized in many/most of the same ways you have. 

In last week's letter, I briefly attacked Victimology and Intersectionality, mile markers one and two on the road to tribalism. (1) Begin by identifying yourself as a victim of some sort. (2) Figure out how you've been victimized by life in every possible way and in every possible context. 

Finally, channel your inner caveman caveperson and go to war with everyone who ain't us (the infamous them).  Crack the pot, shatter the mosaic -- winner takes all. Well, more likely, never-ending war ensues. Sound familiar? 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.]


©2018 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 comment — or react (way cooler than liking, and Facebook doesn't keep track) — please scroll down. 

  







 

Things I Think About (2)

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.

[Blogaramians: Blogarama renders the links in my columns useless. Please click on View Original to solve this problem and access lotsa columns.]

Irregularly Appearing Imaginary Guest Stars

Marie-Louise -- My beautiful muse and back scratcher 

Iggy -- My designated Sticky

Dana -- My designated gentlereader

       "If everyone is thinking alike, then somebody isn't thinking."
                                                              -George S. Patton

  
Dear (eventual) Grandstickies & Great-Grandstickies,

This letter is actually directed primarily at my gentlereaders but there is content here that you may also find useful.  

All Infomercials Great and Small

Alrighty then, is that everything? Is it finally time to grab our naughty parts and jump?

All but... we've never decided if we're going to offer free shipping or not.

You know what? it's just the right thing to do. If people are nice enough to order our product the least we can do is pay for the shipping.


The preceding dialog is fiction squared. I not only made it up, there's just no way such a conversation has ever taken place. The phrase free shipping is pure, unadulterated, bonkercockie. Free shipping is to infomercials as hand-dipped is to an ice cream parlor.

[However, I'll admit that robot-dipped is at least theoretically possible; robot-pumped is a thing. I don't want to offend any gentlereaders so I won't mention that in my semi-humble opinion "soft-serve" ain't ice cream.]

There is no such thing as a free lunch. If it's too good to be true it's too good to be true. The cost of the shipping and/or handling/processing/whatevering is built into the price.

Obviously.

I'm not a marketer but if I were I'd try something like "With the exception of Uncle Sam's cut -- as you know, Uncle always gets his cut -- $19.99 is what it's going to cost you to buy our world-class electric toothpick and have it delivered to your door."

I freely and willingly offer up this concept to anyone willing to try it. All I ask is that you mention theflyoverlandcrank.com when they hand you your trophy at the awards dinner.

No Trump No Way Day

10:00 a.m., Saturday morning.

Next up on the Sludge Network, the Ralph Infammy Report. The Sludge Network, all infotainment -- all the time.

Good morning and welcome to the Infammy Report. As you've probably heard -- or at least I hope so since we've promoted it hard enough (warm chuckle) -- Today is NTNW day here at the Sludge Network. NTNW stands for No Trump, No Way.

As promised, we will do our best not to mention the Donald or his family. No discussion of, or interviews with, past or present minions, wives, or lovers. No, not even her.

Fear not. In the event of important breaking news involving the Donald, we'll abandon this temporary format faster than the Donald fires flunkies and will follow our standard practice.

To wit, endless coverage wherein we will report every unconfirmed rumor as soon as we hear it while reminding you it's an unconfirmed rumor. Each and every unconfirmed rumor, if it's juicy enough, will be expanded on by our Sludge Network analysts following the usual formula.   

That is, if this turns out to actually be true then this might be the result. 

We hope you enjoy your Trump free day and may we suggest that if you wish to maximize your enjoyment that you also attempt to avoid thinking about any president since Hoobert Heever.   

Coco Is Still Adrift in a Cultural Wilderness

As regular readers and my Dear Stickies know, I self-identify as a sassy black lesbian woman named Coco who is trapped inside the body of an old white dude a member of the white heteropatriarchy.

The reason I came out of the closet, after a lifetime of denial, is twofold. First, American culture has finally turned its collective back on the outdated notion of rugged individuals employing rationally negotiated compromise because we're all on the same team and we all want the team to win.

We've embraced the power of victimhood.

Second, we've discovered that bonding with like-minded victims dramatically increases our ability to air our grievances and demand redress.

The second phenomenon has been elevated to an art form by advanced thinkers of the Social Justice movement. Intersectionality, the technique of adopting several different victim profiles instead of putting all your angst in one basket, allows any given victim to radically expand their victimhood.

In addition to the obvious psychological benefits, this technique also has practical, real-world ramifications. The more egregious the victimology, the better the chance any given victim will be the beneficiary of a lawsuit or at least a program of some sort provided by The Gummit.

[Poppa, sometimes I think you have too much time on your hands...]

Iggy, I'm just trying to make the world a better place for you and your fellow Stickies. 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.]


©2018 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 comment — or react (way cooler than liking, and Facebook doesn't keep track) — please scroll down. 















           







  

May You Live In Interesting Times (3)

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.

                                   THE AGE OF UNLIGHTENMENT?

[Blogaramians: Blogarama renders the links in my columns useless. Please click on View Original to solve this problem and access lotsa columns.]

Irregularly Appearing Imaginary Guest Stars

Marie-Louise -- My beautiful muse and back scratcher 

Iggy -- My designated Sticky

Dana -- My designated gentlereader

"Giving money and power to government is like giving whiskey and car keys to teenage boys."  -P.J. O'Rourke

Dear (eventual) Grandstickies & Great-Grandstickies,

When I compose these semi-humble missives that are mostly directed to your future selves — although two of you (S1 & S2) are on the verge of being able to make sense of at least some of my bafflegab — my mind/imagination often projects what impact current events that at least appear to be a RBFD will have on your (eventual) everyday lives.

[Is that a sentence or what? It may be a personal best/worst...]

I don't write much about politics. Currently, the Republic is enduring all politics all the time. What follows is my impression of what's going on so you can contrast it with whatever makes it to the history books.


We are currently knee deep in, and the Infotainment Industrial Complex utterly obsessed with, one of the myriad reality shows the Donald is starring in: The Donald vs. the SP and the FBI. Those of you that are actually here, although still callowyutes, are experiencing this even if only peripherally. Those of you who have yet to arrive will be studying the subject in history class.

Plot summary: did the Donald collude with the Pooten to become our national CEO?


According to Wikipedia, "... a special prosecutor (SP) is a lawyer appointed to investigate, and potentially prosecute, a particular case of suspected wrongdoing for which a conflict of interest (my emphasis) exists for the usual prosecuting authority."

The Justice Department ("the usual prosecuting authority") and our federal police force, the FBI, are part of the 1/3 of the republic that the Donald runs so Robert Swan(?) Mueller III was appointed SP to avoid a conflict of interest.

Mr. Mueller served with distinction in Vietnam and has a sterling reputation. But for most of his career, he worked for the Justice Department — as a prosecutor. Also, when he got his current gig it had only been roughly 3.5 since serving as Director of the FBI — a division of the Justice Department — for 12 years.

Being a multipotentialite and current events maven, I know this kind of shi shtuff.

I don't know what the history books will say; I hesitate to predict the future under any circumstances. I predict that when you read this, though, you will immediately ask the same question I and many other current Citizens of the Republic are asking.

Who in their right mind thinks Mr. Mueller could be impartial and unconflicted? And this was before the subsequent kerfuffle concerning double-dealing, high ranking FBI officials who appear to have colluded to get a special prosecutor appointed in the first place.


Here's where things stand at the moment.

There is no current law that specifies who has the power to appoint a Special Prosecutor. Justice Department regulations, created by the Justice Department, gives the Attorney General (or acting AG) this power. Hoo-boy.

The current AG recused himself from investigating whether the Donald or his posse colluded with the Pooteen to get the Donald elected as he was a member of the Donald's election posse.

Deputy AG, Rod Rosenstein, appointed Mr. Mueller SP -- one day after Mr. Mueller was interviewed/rejected by the Donald. He was trying to get his old job back, director of the FBI.

The evidence that was used to determine why it was determined a SP was needed -- real, fake, and where/who it came from -- has been in the news and the subject of endless debate ever since.

Congress has demanded answers. Apparently, they feel guilty about the fact they've never gotten around to renewing the law that specifies just who has the power to appoint an SP and under what circumstances.

The Justice Department and FBI have elevated foot-dragging and stonewalling to an art form. What info they do release is always heavily redacted. The redactions, when revealed, often turn out to be info that's embarrassing to Justice/FBI, not legitimate secrets.

The Information Industrial Complex has created a lucrative industry out of the resulting mess. Evidence-free speculation and my personal favorite -- if this should turn out to be true then that could happen -- comes at us 24 x 7 x 365 (.25). By the way, there is no speculation in this letter, only facts.


Mr. Mueller has been on the job for just over a year. A couple of people have been charged with crimes unrelated to Russian collusion. There's been collateral damage. For example...

Michael Caputo is a former communications advisor to the Trump campaign who keeps getting summoned to Washington. He has run up legal bills of over $125,000, is about to lose his home, and has been subject to death threats. He has been charged with nothing.


In other The Gummit news... Congressman Lamar Smith wants The Gummit to spend $10,000,000/year of other people's money to search for evidence that we're not alone in the universe. 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.

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©2018 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 comment — or react (way cooler than liking, and Facebook doesn't keep track) — please scroll down. 

Words of Wisdom

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.

                                   THE AGE OF UNLIGHTENMENT?

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Irregularly Appearing Imaginary Guest Stars

Marie-Louise -- My beautiful muse and back scratcher 

Iggy -- My designated Sticky

Dana -- My designated gentlereader

Dear (eventual) Stickies & Great-Grandstickies,

"We have the ultimate reason to be anxious. We know that we're vulnerable and we know that we're going to die. —Jordan Peterson. Yes, yet another column influenced by Jordan Peterson.


A mildly anxious and slightly depressed human and his Vulcan friend are sharing a joint in a cargo hold of the Starship Calvin Coolidge.

"Life is just one damn thing after another."

Yes, no doubt about that. Assuming we share the same space-time continuum, it's logically irrefutable.

Huh?

Life is obviously one "thing" and then another, and then another, and...

I'm speaking metaphorically my bat-eared buddy. Note that the phrase is just one damn thing after another. That is to say, one unpleasant thing after another.

I get that, we Vulcans are logical, not stupid. Here, hit this, perhaps you'll feel better. I bought this Tralfamidorian Tan because I thought it might cheer your whiny human butt up. For the record, your statement still makes no sense.

Life is no more likely to be one damn thing after another than it is to be one awesome thing after another. Life just is. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, but, mostly, just another day on the starship CalCool.

So what you're saying is...

I'm saying it's always something. If it's not one thing, it's another. (HT: G.A.)

Geez, I hate Vulcan humor.


I, being me, went looking for the source of life is just one damn thing after another and discovered it's attributed to multiple people (including, of course, Mark Twain) by multiple people.

[Aside: The National Bureau of Literary References recently received a significant budget increase from Congress to fund an expansion of their Mark Twain department. The volume of quotes attributed to Mr. Twain continues to rise at a pace that parallels the growth of the National Debt.]

I did find an attributable variation on the theme. "It's not true that life is one damn thing after another – it's one damn thing over and over." —Edna St. Vincent Millay


Setting logic and logic jokes aside both quotations still ring true. In spite of Johnny Mercer's advice, we do seem to accentuate the negative. Science calls it the negativity bias. Hang on a sec' and I'll go find a respectable looking source I can link to...

That was easy. From Psychology Today (and Rick Hanson, Ph.D.), "The alarm bell of your brain — the amygdala... —  uses about two-thirds of its neurons to look for bad news: it's primed to go negative." Why? Well, as you've probably already guessed my highly perceptive Stickies, survival. 

"...humans evolved to be fearful — since that helped keep our ancestors alive — so we are very vulnerable to being frightened and even intimidated by threats, both real ones and 'paper tigers.'"

Considering we've risen to the top of the food chain it's hard to argue with success.

Big But

Beware the downside. Paper tigers are not on the endangered species list. In fact, the web/cable news/social media/etceteria have created a population explosion. 

When I was a callowyute, locally based news (and threats), via newspapers and local TV, were all the rage. 

I'm so old that I remember that when national TV news broadcasts first began they were 15 minutes in length, once a day. You had all of three choices — ABC, CBS, or NBC — and you had to pick one because they all broadcast at the same time and the technology to watch 'em later didn't exist yet.   

While American culture was less coarse and life hadn't yet deteriorated into all showbiz/exhibitionism all the time, the Earth was no less dangerous than it is now. But we weren't followed around by virtual town criers with bullhorns 24x7x365.25.

Anxiety

Merriam-Webster: "apprehensive uneasiness or nervousness usually over an impending or anticipated ill." 

The ability to perceive the future and prepare accordingly is a powerful gift we H. sapiens are blessed with. Jordan Peterson likes to interpret the Old Testament, and the equally ancient stories of other cultures, from a psychological perspective.

He equates sacrificing to God/the gods with sacrificing short-term pleasure for the sake of a long-term goal. If you go to work/school/the DMV today instead of executing a Wake and Bake via some Tralfamidorian Tan, the future you will thank you.

H. sapiens, it would seem, have known for thousands of years that material and psychological preventive maintenance will getcha a cool phone and stave off Xanax addiction.  


However, the town criers with bullhorns — news media/social media/etceteredia — render the naturally anxious worse and the rest of us unnaturally anxious. Put your phone in a drawer once in a while, go for a walk in the real world, and just – be. 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.]


©2018 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 comment — or react (way cooler than liking) — please scroll down.