Saturday, June 25, 2016

Demonization (Is there an exorcist in the House? The Senate?)


This is the first time I've included a link in a column. I'm violating policy because this is a very important link. The logic behind why I don't put limit the quantity of links in my columns can be found by clicking on the Read This First Please tab Just Who Is This Guy tab on my website, TheFlyoverlandCrank.com. (Many of my gentlereaders access my columns without visiting my website.)

The subject and title of a recent column was the Dizzinformation Age. I defined Dizzinformation syndrome (DS) as dizzy from too much information -- correct, incorrect, or, worst of all, contradictory. I failed to mention Dizzinformation Anxiety Syndrome (DAS), a closely related malady that often manifests concurrently with DS. DAS is the fear that you might miss/have missed/are missing a highly important bit of information.

Highly important is a relative phrase. For example, it could refer to the fact that you forgot to acknowledge your obnoxious aunt Eunice's birthday. This is important because she's sitting on a significant pile of dough. Although she's unlikely to bequeath a significant amount of the aforementioned significant pile to you (it's complicated), you figure that odds are you're going to get something if she ever finally dies. 

Alternatively, any information of quality about how H. sapiens actually function in the real world on a day to day basis, as opposed to how you wish they did/hope they do may be highly important to you also, for any number of valid reasons.

While the former would seem, generally speaking, less important than the latter, both are important, both can trigger DAS.

I recently discovered a book, that I haven't read yet (more on that in a sec') titled, "The Righteous Mind," by Jonathan Haidt that was published in 2013. The subtitle, "Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion," embodies a passionate interest of mine and is easily conflatable with the desire to know how folks actually function in the real world mentioned above.

I've purchased the book and haven't read it yet because I'm mildly obsessed with the video that clicking on the link above will connect you to. Bill Moyers, well known progressive, interviews the author, a moral psychologist who claims his work has moved him from a moderate liberal stance to that of a moderate conservative. It's an excellent interview and while I'm sure there's additional insight in the book, the interview reveals the important stuff.

I'm obsessed with the video for two reasons -- the tone and the substance.

As to tone, the interview consists of 47 minutes and 9 seconds of two intelligent gentlepersons exploring a subject of interest to us all most people. All the while they both listen carefully to what the other guy is saying, or asking (it is an interview after all); at no point does the conversation devolve into shouting or talking over or interrupting or displays of self-righteous fury. Not very infotaining. Well, at least by the standards of the average cable news show.

As to substance, the fact that I, your DAT (dilettante about town) was unaware of the book or the interview triggered a dizzinformation anxiety attack. A well-spoken Ph.D., whose field is moral psychology (a subject I find endlessly fascinating), wrote a book and gave a great interview about a subject I'm obsessed with (see subtitle), and has compiled an impressive array of studies that seem to confirm most of my thoughts and opinions on the subject in question.

And I, a semi-humble DAT, with 39 certified college credits, missed it.

Of course, so did a lot of other people. The sales of the book in question were/are a tiny fraction of any given book of the Harry Potter series. I went poking around the web to try and make myself feel better and became deeply depressed when I discovered that it was once on the N.Y. Times bestseller list. However, I then discovered that discovering how many copies of given book have actually been sold is impossible; the veracity of the Times list is a matter of some controversy. I'm feeling much better now.

As I said, I haven't read it yet, but the interview absolutely drips with insight into our current mess and when I'm king...

[Marie-Louise rolls her eyes, my imaginary gentlereader scoffs. Dana. What's that? Dana, I'm tired of being called imaginary gentlereader, my name is Dana, OK? Yeah, sure, whatever you say, what prompted... Just move on, OK? Um, yeah, sure.]

Anyway, I can't recommend watching this interview enough. Ironically, Mr. Haidt did a TED talk that I vaguely remember watching, and enjoying, but it was quite awhile ago and doesn't delve into the subject with quite the same amount of insight or present nearly as many subtle details.

You really should watch the interview. Here's a summary of Mr. Haidt's thesis if you don't want to, or to help you decide if you wish to spend some of your valuable time. Honestly, however, I'm doing it mostly for me. Writing helps/forces me to clarify concisely and I want to burn his ideas into my head as I think they are that important.

Abraham Lincoln was a Republicrat, one of the first important ones, and he freed the slaves. Many folks in the South took umbrage at this and the South became a Depublican stronghold. Yes, those of you who are historically challenged, the Republicans (traditional but now inaccurate name) freed the slaves; the Democrats (traditional but equally inaccurate name) gave us Jim Crow and the KKK.

Ain't that ironical.

[For the record, I use the names I do because although the parties have lost the ability to compromise over the years in order to do what's best for the republic, they both agree, strongly, on the same principle, that obtaining and keeping power is job one. Beats having to get a real job.]

And then in the early sixties, Lyndon Johnson put together a bipartisan effort and destroyed the obscenity that was/is Jim Crow. A certain element in the South once again took umbrage and turned Republicrat, feeling abandoned and looking for revenge. Then the Baby Boomers began taking over from the Greatest Generation and began redefining the Depublican party. This was the beginning of (what I call) the Great Fragmentation. As Mr. Haidt puts it, both parties began moving towards logically extreme positions. Liberal Republicrats and conservative Depublicans began to disappear.

Mr. Haidt points out that it's perfectly normal, and advantageous for survival, for H. sapiens to belong to a tribe of some sort. Cooperation/competition being opposite sides of the same coin, this can be a good thing if a balance is maintained. We can cooperate by competing in everything from sports to business to politics, to pursue excellence but stay friends -- if we share common goals, share the same country, and avoid a culture that is defined by Us v. Them.

This was relatively easy for the Greatest Generation. They had to compete/cooperate to survive the Great Depression and then World War Two. The threat of economic collapse/starvation followed by the threat of death/enslavement by another culture served to unite a nation of rugged individualists. A general consensus as to what constituted a moral lifestyle -- though we must acknowledge there was, as there always is, much hypocrisy -- also helped.

Very long story short: The rise of the most pampered/indulged/prosperous generation in American history -- at least till the rise of the Millennials, and now the Snowflakes -- was upon us. The moral and cultural consensus was replaced, in an amazingly short time, by if it feels good do it we'll sort out the consequences later ethos.

Compromise was replaced by Us v. Them. Consensus, even geographical consensus, is vanishing. We've separated into, as Mr. Haidt says, lifestyle enclaves -- physical/emotional/political/moral -- from where we can comfortably throw rocks at the other tribes.

Manichaeism is back on the charts kids, with a bullet. Hey, buddy, you're not just wrong, you're evil, and you can't compromise with the devil. Please watch the interview, eye-opening stuff, I promise.

Have an OK day.


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©2017 Mark Mehlmauer   (The Flyoverland Crank)



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Saturday, June 18, 2016

Hall Boys

I've finally stumbled on a "reality show" that I like. I don't wish to cast any aspersions on the genre's fans, it just doesn't appeal to me. It's not snobbery of any sort. I don't understand the appeal of abstract art, opera or caviar either, but there's nay shortage of people that are smarter than I that do. Incidentally, when I become king I'm going to order that henceforth aspersions will cast at, not on, not even upon, someone or something. But that has nothing to do with the reality show I recently stumbled upon so I'm not going to get into it. Did you know that upon and on can be used interchangeably without having to worry about the jack booted thugs of the grammar police kicking in your door at 3 AM? I...

[Cough, cough. Marie-Louise, my muse, can exactly duplicate the dry, fake cough of Sister Mary Eunice made when she would appear out of nowhere when my fellow unworthy sinners and I were pitching pennies or discussing the definitions of bad words.]

Sorry. Oh, before I forget, I mentioned last week that the subject of this week's column would be demonization. Due to technical difficulties...etc, it's been moved to next week. Anyway, the reality show in question is called, "Manor House," and ran back in 2002. It would seem I'm running a bit behind. Amazon, or rather one of its algorithms, recommended it to me after I recently binge watched "Downton Abbey." I told you I was running a bit behind.

The premise of the show is that it's a depiction of what life would have been like for a bunch of folks living in a huge manor house, in Scotland, at the turn of the last century. The lives of the (newly rich) masters, a family of five, and their (newly minted) slaves servants (14 of them) are offered up for our entertainment via a typical unreality show format. You may have noticed, or at least heard, that alleged reality shows are somewhat different from, and strive to be much more entertaining than, actual reality. This particular show is no exception.

When I'm king (I'm feeling rather monarchical this week), I'm going to order that all high school students, grade year to be determined, will be required to participate in a series of ungraded seminars. For lack of a better term (I've just come up with this idea so I'm little light on details) let's call them the Reality Check Series. The point/purpose is to give the students a realistic grounding in how life actually works/worked to prevent snowflake syndrome going forward, coupled with an appreciation of how crappy life actually was for almost everyone nay very long ago.

The reason Manor House got me to thinking about this is because although it contains all the required unreality elements of reality shows, it still offers much in the way of useful reality checks.

What I mean by the elements of unreality are simply all the stories/rumours/innuendo/etc. surrounding any given reality show. Poke the bear production tricks that have leaked and/or are leaked and designed to manipulate the participants/masses.

Manipulate the participants into providing entertainment for the masses and manipulate the masses for the enrichment of the industry behind the cameras. A new millennial version of Depression-era dance marathons.

As to useful reality checks, an example if you please. Downton Abbey includes "hall boys," but just barely and the term is never defined. Manor House, on the other hand, features a hall boy that literally lives in the hall. Nay, really. In the Scottish manor house where Manor House takes place, the hall boy literally lives in a hall. There's a tiny Murphy bed that folds out of one of the halls walls, and that's where he sleeps. His room is a Murphy bed in a room that's not a room. Yikes!

There's nay a lot of information available about hall boys, even using my usual method for conducting in-depth research -- google a word or phrase and see what happens. The life of a DAT (dilettante about town) requires vigilant prioritising and a ruthless devotion to moving on.

[Manor House is full of Scottish accents, which is why I've become mildly, and hopefully only temporarily, obsessed with using nay, instead of no or not. I'm resisting rolling my r's, so far, but only because I'm nay vera gooud very good at it.]

However, I did manage to ferret out a few facts beyond the appalling one mentioned above. Hall boys, along with their female counterparts, scullery maids, occupied the lowest positions in a rigid hierarchy that began with the master of the house and ended with them.

One of their many duties was to serve as servants to servants that were further up the food chain than they were, and often they were literally boys. They got up first, went to bed last, often worked 16 hour days and couldn't count on a day off. Two words: chamber pots.

This was all considered perfectly normal for centuries and didn't start changing till about a hundred years ago. While a century may seem like a long time to some of you, particularly to those fortunate enough to be slightly younger than I (62.75 chronologically, 39 spiritually), consider the fact that my father was born in 1911, and it was only a couple of years ago that I was being terrorised by Sister Mary Eunice.

Back to reality checks. What have we learned Dorothies? While nay one should have to live/have lived like this, more did than didn't, and nay that long ago. Many still do. I refer not only to the lives of slaves/servants. Till roughly 1800, when The Great Enrichment took off (the subject of this column the week after next), almost everyone on the planet lived short, drudgery-filled lives, and always had.

Manor House is worth a watch for one other reason in my semi-humble opinion. I made reference to the clearly defined and rigidly enforced hierarchy of the household, which mirrored the English class system that had begun to crumble but was still very much in place.

The people of the current era that were assembled for this elaborate game of pretend start going native in the very first episode. It's fascinating to watch how easily they assume the mores of their forebears, mostly I suspect, without being aware of it.

Have an OK day.

©Mark Mehlmauer 2016

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Saturday, June 11, 2016

Pain

Pain's inevitable, it's the nature of our reality.

I've come to this conclusion via 62.75 years of experience in the subject as well as well as by studying the thoughts, opinions, and conclusions of others. Particularly the thoughts, opinions, and conclusions of a gentle-man by the name of Thaddeus Golas who wrote a book entitled, "Love and Pain." He may be known to some of your for being the sorta/kinda famous author of a sorta/kinda famous book that was published in 1971. It's called, "The Lazy Man's Guide to Enlightenment."

I don't recommend either book for most people, particularly those of you that are comfortable believers or non-believers, that are content with what you believe (or don't). Most members of both groups will find them to be "out there" and dismiss some of their wilder premises early on, probably regretting have spent the money and/or time to obtain a copy.

Also, the latter book contradicts the former. Or rather, corrects it. And, if you liked the first one you might find Love and Pain to be rather depressing.

However, since Mr. G's conclusions about pain happen to coincide with (and clarified) my own, and since he expresses them so elegantly, I have to acknowledge him. As it happens...

[For the love of a higher power that can be defined any which way you like, for whom am I to judge? (my imaginary gentle reader, or IGR, has been trending politically correct as of late) would you please get on with it! Marie-Louise gives him a dirty look while simultaneously gently smacking me on the back of my head. This significance of this is that though she may agree with him her first instinct is to defend me. She's a very good muse.]

Fine then. First, I must declare a personal (respectful and low-key) rejection of the notion that we're all being punished for an original sin of some sort. A sin that was committed by persons known or unknown that's resulted in everyone born since, that is, everyone, arriving here having been tried, convicted and sentenced -- before they existed. If this works for you, well, you might as well stop reading here. Have an OK day.

Next, to get it out of the way, I'll readily stipulate that pain serves as a very effective survival mechanism. "My hand seems to have caught on fire, that really, really hurts. I should put that out as quickly as possible."

[Oh, before I forget, as to "respectful and low-key," while I'm not a believer, at least in a traditional, conservative way, I'm very much a live and let live sort of dude. It's a cage match! Believers v. non-believers v. non-traditional believers -- or my personal favorite -- traditional v. different traditional. If everyone was to make a conscious effort to redirect the time and energy we use up demonizing (pun intended) each other we could all get our laundry caught up. (Another gentle smack from Marie-Louise.) Suffice it to say that the subject of next week's column is demonization.]

Now, the specific point that Mr. Golas brings up that I'd never thought of before, at least in quite the same way, is that pain is survival. Pleasure, in more than very limited doses, is disintegration and death.

No, I'm not saying that we should resurrect the philosophy and lifestyle of ancient Sparta. Yes, I acknowledge that all work, and no play, not only produces dull dudes/dudettes, it sucks sweaty socks.

BIG BUT.

If I get drunk every day after work, and/or while at work, and if I get and stay drunk the entire weekend, because I really, really like to get drunk, I will begin to disintegrate, I will eventually die. The best I can hope for till the fun turns to cirrhosis of the liver, is that I don't trash/damage/kill anyone else along the way. Please feel free to substitute the pleasure inducing substance/activity of your choice. Don't forget sugar, sugar.

[Stuff and nonsense! Sez my IGR. You're talking about abusing substances/activities that if used in moderation...]

...No, what I'm talking about is that the nature of life on Earth, assuming, as I suspect most folks do if they wish to survive for more than a minute, is that pleasure must be limited and controlled.

[Well sure, everyone knows that moderation in all things...]

That's only true if you define moderation as doing really fun stuff in severely limited and controlled doses. If moderation is the answer why do we spend so much of our time working, be it for a living or the 1,001 other dreary things that must get done to get through the day?

Moderation? My idea of moderation would be a world in which I spend as much time having fun as I do working. That lifestyle is only available to an infinitesimal percentage of people, and for a limited time. Pain finds everyone. Even love hurts.

I hear two questions begging.

If you had the wherewithal to design reality from scratch, or could reboot it any which way you want to, wouldn't you set it up so it was possible to exist in a state of bliss 24 x 7? I'm not even remotely as forgiving as God is supposed to be and that's what I'd do.

On a more practical note, if you concede the inevitability of pain, and don't want to pleasure yourself to death (GRIN, sorry, I can't help myself sometimes) how should you structure your life and personal philosophy?

Have an OK day.

©Mark Mehlmauer 2016

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