The Secret of (Occasional) Happiness

"Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life." This quote is often attributed to Confucius but a minimum of googling will reveal that it's impossible to accurately credit anyone for it. However, I would argue that the truth of this particular adage is obvious. 

Unfortunately, reality is often a poor substitute for what should be. Life is indeed what happens to us while we make other plans. Rather than choosing a job we love, most of us are destined to choose the best job we can get. 

Then, once we have it, we have to decide if we're going to hang around or try and find a different one, a better one. And then, that the bright and shiny new job we get may ultimately turn out to suck sweaty socks. Oh well, at least it (hopefully) pays better. Hmmm, now what should I do, make the best of it or should I start looking for another job? If I...

[For the love of my higher power! exclaims Dana... 

(I'm beginning to think it's not political correctness after all, that some organizations 12 step program is at work, but of course, it's none of my business)

Would it be asking too much to ask if this is going somewhere?]

Point taken. OK, let me put it this way. Getting paid to do a job we love is the ideal job. At this level you're actually getting paid to do your work, not a job. Your work is those one or two things that you would keep getting out of bed for if was revealed to you that (without a doubt) you only had a relatively limited amount of time left and that once you died, that was it, there was nothing coming next. I'm not claiming it's possible to be certain of either of the two preceding statements. Hey, it's just a thought experiment. 

You're work, as I define it anyway, could be anything from what you're doing in that secret laboratory hidden under the garage that not even your snifficant other knows about --  trying to create the new millennial Frankensteen -- to an obsession with collecting football cards.

Much research has been done to determine what makes us happy and the official answer is, well, one of 'em anyway, earned success (there's even a TED Talk). While I agree that earned success does make people happy, as well as the well-researched reasons as to why it does, what about all the folks that in spite of their best efforts have had to settle for limited success (at best)?

Worse yet, what about the individuals that led exemplary lives, always gave more than they got, and died, often badly, still worrying about how they were going to get the car repaired?

Someone to love that loves you back (a dog will do) and interesting work is the secret of (occasional) happiness. 

Oh, and before I forget, the word occasional is very important in that the nature of reality, on the planet Earth at least, is that everything contains its opposite and that opposites are two sides of the same coin. That statement requires its own column but it must be mentioned because you have to always keep in mind that while being happy all the time is impossible, so is being unhappy all the time. Just wait it out and try and consider not making any important decisions or doing anything dumb until the dark clouds pass. Trust me on this...  

[Caveat: Freely acknowledging that I'm not a mental/emotional health professional and that some would argue that even the world amateur overstates my qualifications, if you're happy, or miserable, all the time, there may be something wrong. Please consider contacting a professional.]



Someone to love that loves you back (a dog will do) and interesting work is the secret of (occasional) happiness. 

"But I don't love anyone and no one loves me, not even a dog." Bonkercockie. The minute you give up on the notion that love will fill you will light, solve all your problems, and make you, Happy (the Hollywood version of love), the sooner the smoke will clear. You like at least one someone, probably more than one. There's at least one someone, probably more than one, that likes you. When you stop pursuing/waiting for the Hollywood version you'll dramatically increase the chances love will find you. While you're waiting -- like, be kind, and be likable.

"Interesting work? I'm just not that into anything, never have been." Bonkercockie. The minute you give up the notion that you'll find, and/or follow, your bliss and then you will be filled with light, all of your problems will be solved, and you will be, Happy (Hollywood again...), the sooner that smoke will clear. 

The owner of a successful vacuum cleaner repair shop (who's not deeply in debt and has no trouble paying his/her bills) who is indifferent to vacuum cleaners, but never tires of making the perfect pint of ice cream in the back room, has interesting work.

Good dog! Where's that goofy cat...  

Poppa loves you,
Have an OK day

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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. I post an announcement when I have a new column available as well as news articles/opinion pieces that reflect where I'm coming from or that I wish to call attention to. Cranky don't tweet.

©2016 Mark Mehlmauer

     

The (Electronic) Fourth Estate and Cop Killers

I use the term The Fourth Estate, a term variously defined in the course of history, in the modern sense: a highfalutin term for the press, or the news media, as a whole. Wikipedia has a concise and interesting entry (well, interesting to me at least, your dilettante about town) concerning the meaning and history of the phrase. It even includes a quote by Oscar Wilde, no fan of the press... Sorry, it's not you, it's me.

Moving on. It was late last Sunday afternoon, 7.17.16. Three more cops had been murdered in Baton Rouge for the crime of being cops. One "suspect" was dead and two others were (or were not) in the wind. At that point in time, besides the fact that three other cops were wounded, that's all we knew.

It was pretty much the same thing we were constantly being reinformed of by the 24x7 cable/satellite news channels since the story broke shortly after it happened, early that morning. They were still repeating the same (provisional) facts. Different words, different angles, different people (well, some of them anyway) -- same tentative facts.

Which is fine I guess.

After all, perhaps you had stayed up all night doing things that you'd rather not tell your mom about and having recently regained consciousness had decided to check in with your favorite news channel because you're sorta/kinda into politics. You wanted to see if an aggrieved member of the Multiculti Militia that had congregated in Cleveland, hoping for a chance to club a re-pub, had engaged in any pointless rioting yet. Perhaps a dude/dudette with excessive Islamitude had blown themselves up and was already enjoying the company of their allotted slate of 72 virgins.

[Aside: I know you're asking yourself, do dudettes get 72 male virgins? A quick check revealed that Muslim scholars and clerics don't have much to say about that (what a surprise). It gets better. Some scholars believe that something got lost in translation and that the promised reward is 72 raisins. Seriously. Look it up. Raisins.]

I'm not a regular viewer of any of the cable/sat news channels in that I don't (often can't, yuck) watch them for more than a few minutes at a time. I do check in regularly to see what's going on -- it's part of my job. Or rather, I wish it was. Actually, it's my work. Your work and your job are, more often than not, not the same thing for most people.

"Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life." -Probably not Confucius. The secret of happiness is someone(s) to love that loves you back and interesting work. This column is my interesting work. It would be my job if I could make a comfortable living from it, which I don't, at least not yet. However, I have a vague plan and big dreams, which also are a component of a happy life, but the secret of happiness is the subject of next week's column. Stay tuned. 

Therefore let us carefully back out of this dead end street (damn Google Maps...). As a token of my appreciation for your patience please accept a free gift: The secret of life is that life is just high school with money. More on that the week after next.   

What I find fascinating/appalling about cable/sat news channels is that right after something happens that's important enough to guarantee a large audience, they begin speculating their bums off. But they justify it by constantly reminding us -- that they are speculating their bums off. Broadcast news operations do this as well, but less egregiously.

"I must remind our viewers that while _______ hasn't confirmed the appalling/disgusting/titillating fact I just threw out there, it might be true, but then again it may not be. After all, as I'm sure you know, once we do get the story straight it's often different than what we've been going on and on and on and on about. That said, instead of returning to the real news stories we think might be accurate, and of course no shortage of celebrity news and stories about (often reprehensible) people that are famous for being famous, we'll carry on with our endless speculating, right after we run yet another bunch of profitable commercials.

[At this point a lengthy block of advertising commences. It consists mainly of the current ads for the same products that turn up (between brief amounts of actual content) almost everywhere you go in the cable/sat universe because lengthy blocks of advertising that consist mainly of the current ads for the same products must be run -- repeatedly, and everywhere -- if they are to have any effect in a cable/sat universe saturated by lengthy blocks of advertising that consist mainly of the current ads for the same products.]

Welcome back. This is _______, recently named as the interim director of _______. While acknowledging that what I said just prior to the commercial break may not be true, that is, blahblahblah, if it does turn out to be true, Mr./Ms. _______, what would be some of the possible ramifications?"

[Gentlereaders -- while the quoted material above is obviously a product of my imagination, it nevertheless accurately depicts the coverage I watched that morning.]

Ishkabibble.

[Why isn't there a punctuation mark that indicates shrugged shoulders? In case you're not one of my gazillions of regular readers, and since I can't remember where I used and defined this word recently, permit me to explain. It's not one that I created nor is it one that someone else recently created but is ill-defined enough for me to um, appropriate. It's a word from the early 20th century that means, according to the Urban Dictionary, no worries _, or, who cares?. Now do you see why we need a punctuation mark that indicates a shrug? Fear not, gentlereaders, I'm on it! See, I told you it's not you.]

Ishkabibble_ (Insert yet to be created punctuation mark here.) Since this was the second recent cold-blooded assassination of cops for being cops, since there was a bit less carnage than in Dallas, since one of the slain officers was black, since the Electronic Fourth Estate must reflect a culture with an ever-declining attention span to keep profits up -- Ishkabibble_

After all, the newest episode of the Donald's reality show was about to start.

Have an OK Day.

©Mark Mehlmauer 2016

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Islamitude

Walter Williams on multiculturalism: "Leftist diversity advocates and multiculturalists are right to argue that people of all races, religions and cultures should be equal in the eyes of the law.

But their argument borders on idiocy when they argue that one set of cultural values cannot be judged superior to another and that to do so is Eurocentrism." The italicization (say that word six times fast) is mine.

Traveling East to West...

[Wait just a minute, Sparky, sez Dana, my imaginary gentlereader, islamitude? What the hell is islamitude? Marie-Louise is having her nails done, at my expense, as I'm a fool for a good back scratch, particularly if administered by a woman of the female persuasion.]

Well, to be honest, I'm still trying to nail down my official definition as it's a word that never occurred to me until I wrote this column, and Marie-Louise (my muse) never offers up explanation, only (if I'm lucky) inspiration. Googling revealed that I'm not the first to use the word but a specific definition proved to be elusive.

All that I can tell you at this point is that to me it's a word that captures not just a certain attitude but a way of doing things and the reactions of some non-Muslims to same. Vague, I know, but I'm trying to walk a fine line as I don't wish to promote Islamophobia but I also don't want to hide my head underneath my My Pillow and hope it all goes away.

I can point at the meaning with the following example. My late wife once went into a neighborhood convenience store where we were well known regular customers on good terms with the people that ran it. I waited in the car, which was parked near the store entrance, window rolled down. The door to the store was propped open. I was fiddling with the radio and looked up when I heard two people arguing, my late wife had a certain look on her face that indicated she might be about to go over the counter and murder the clerk, a gentleman of Middle Eastern origin. I admit I've no idea if he was a Muslim.

Knowing the significance of the look on her face, I darted into the store and all but dragged her out to our car. I asked what happened. It seems that upon noticing that a particular beverage, some sort of soda pop, had been mistakenly labeled at a price that was obviously less than wholesale, she thought the civilized thing to do was point this out as they were losing money on every bottle they sold (we had reason to be familiar with wholesale soda pop prices at the time).

He reacted by turning purple and asking how dare she, a mere woman, think she had the right to address him about such things and starting ranting at her in his native language.

[Sheesh, sorry I asked.]

And now, back to our show.

Syrian refugees are understandably fleeing a country that seems to be literally disintegrating. I know I would. With the exception of the United Arab Emirates, they ain't going to the rich Persian Gulf states. Their fellow, Arabic-speaking Muslims, would rather throw money at the refugee camps in other countries because of "security concerns." Yeah, no kidding.

On the other hand, it's widely reported that many refugees don't particularly want to go to these particular countries anyway. It seems that even many Muslims don't care for authoritarian monarchies that subscribe to Sharia law. I know I don't.

Case in point, Saudi Arabia. Not a whole lot of there, there unless visiting Mecca is on your bucket list, except for oil, which is why they're rich. Well, the native born Saudis are doing well anyway. For nearly a third of the population, most imported to do the drudge work that's considered beneath the dignity of the locals, and who can't go home without the permission of their masters, life ain't quite so grand.

[But, the Saudis are not as rich as they used to be. Fracking has undermined the power of the members of OPEC to ignore the free market and set prices at what its members think they should charge just because they can (i.e. to enthusiastically practice extortion).]

According to Wikipedia: "In addition to the regular police force, Saudi Arabia has a secret police, the Mabahith, and 'religious police', the Muttawa. The latter enforces Islamic social and moral norms."

"Criminal law punishments in Saudi Arabia include public beheading, hanging, stoning, amputation, and lashing. Serious criminal offenses include...apostasy, adultery, witchcraft and sorcery."

Recent headline in the Wall Street Journal: "Saudi Arabian Women Love Bumper Cars (But Not For Bumping)."

From the article: "At the weekly ladies-only night at the Al Shallal Theme Park in the coastal city of Jeddah, women discard headscarves and head-to-toe black gowns to reveal the latest trends -- ripped jeans, tank tops, and tossed-to-the-side '80s-style hair. For many of them, the biggest draw of the amusement park isn't the few hours of fashion freedom. Instead, they go there to get behind the wheel -- even a bumper-car wheel -- in a country that bans female drivers."

The article goes on to describe long lines of women waiting for a chance to "drive." There's very little bumping involved, except accidentally, they just want to drive. The article includes a picture of a woman covered from head to toe in black, left arm outstretched, dutifully signaling her intention to make a left turn.

Meanwhile, the world is confronted with the horror of the bodies of refugees who tried to make it to Europe floating in the Mediterranean. Europe's response to the crisis has varied widely from country to country.

Germany's response was a booming, Rod Roddy like Come on Down! But then a wave of sexual assaults by roving bands of refugees last New Year's eve across the country highlighted the fact there are more than a few Germans opposed to their countries policy, including immigrants that arrived before the current crisis.

At the other end of the scale are countries like Norway and Denmark who have placed ads in Middle-Eastern media telling refugees they're not welcome, even if they call first.

France and Belgium have become infamous for no-go ghettos where Sharia law is practiced to one degree or another. They're populated by people who have fled myriad traditionally Muslim countries.

You may have heard about some of the recent negative consequences.

President Obama has pledged that the US will admit 10,000 Syrian refugees during the course of The Gubmint's current fiscal year, which ends in October. Not long ago I was delighted/conflicted when I read someplace that only a couple of thousand had been vetted and approved via a very slow process.

Delighted because regardless of whether the process was moving along slowly because we were erring on the side of caution, or more likely because The Gubmint is not renowned for nimbleness and efficiency, the result was the same. Potential terrorists, hiding among the innocent victims of what passes for normal in the Middle East, would have a tougher time getting into America and potentially killing my grandchildren in Allah's name.

Conflicted because someone else's grandchildren might be killed trying to escape being murdered in Allah's name.

But then, the other day, several different media sources reported that the effort was back on track and that the goal of 10,000 will be reached, and on schedule. Swell.

Perhaps The Gubmint will now step up efforts to aid some proven friends that placed their lives on the line for us in Iraq. Remember Iraq? We won a war there. Personally, I wouldn't have gone there in the first place. But we did, and we won, and we wound up with a highly fortified, relatively secure outpost -- smack dab in the middle of the bad guys neighborhood.

Then along came Mr. Obama and his Secretary of State, the Hilliam. It fell to them to negotiate a status of forces agreement to leave enough American troops in place to bolster the effort to turn Iraq into a reasonably modern, reasonably stable democracy -- smack dab in the middle of the bad guys neighborhood.

They cut and ran...

...And left behind a bunch of Iraqis that worked for us as translators in the course of our "overseas contingency operation" -- that are on the Kill ASAP list of more than one zany group of grumpy Muslims -- that can't get visas from Uncle Sam to (literally) save their lives.

Sheesh.

Have an OK day.

©Mark Mehlmauer 2016

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How I Blew My Mind

I have an acquaintance, a very nice woman with a decent job in a field that requires a certain minimum of documented education, as well as the accumulation of continuing education credits in order to keep her occupational license. Her job is very stressful/very important and she firmly believes the Earth is flat.

She believes that this information is withheld from us by the same folks that stand behind the curtain manipulating us all for their own nefarious purposes. I tend to disagree. However, I think no less of her for what she believes.

There's no religion, that I'm aware of, organized or otherwise, that has a lock on the truth. Then again, I question the certitude of my atheist acquaintances, but I don't peer down my nose at either group. I do confess to a certain ironic satisfaction in noting how dogmatic atheists can be as well as the willingness of my religious friends to ignore or rationalize a given tenet of their particular creed.

Me? I'm agnostic because I firmly believe an open mind is the only way to roll. If God, or more likely, one of its messengers (I've got to assume I'm not on its to-do list) should suddenly appear to me as I sit here cranking out my feeble scribbles, I'd want to make the most of such an honor. Rather than freak out and assume I'd lost my mind, I would hope to remain clearheaded enough to start asking questions. I'd try to evaluate the answers with an open mind, even if they contradicted my basic beliefs. I mean, what if the Earth is flat wouldn't you want to know?

"Wow, she's right? It is flat? Listen, if you can spare a few minutes, could I trouble you for the who/what/when/where/why of that fascinating bit of news?  Also, I've always wondered..."

[It? You refer to God as it ?!? asks Dana. Marie-Louise is making the sign of the cross over and over again and praying softly in French.]

I'm just trying to make a point, because God, by definition, is undefinable. To call whomever/whatever it is he, she, or even for that matter, it, serves to prove that words are only convenient symbols for reality, not reality itself. Pick your pronoun, it ain't God, it's a language convention. It's like saying, it's raining. Just who or what is it that's raining?

When I look up on a clear night I'm often reminded of lying on my back in my yard as a child and trying to wrap my brain around the concept of infinity. I don't remember which of my grade school teachers first presented the concept, or even in what context, but it "blew my mind" and it remains blown to this day.

[Which explains a lot! exclaims Dana, unsympathetically. Marie-Louise is giggling but scratching my back, sympathetically.]

Blushing slightly, I continue.

Unless you reject the current (more or less consistent) scientific consensus, the one that has helped to give us the modern world (including the computer I'm composing this on) as does the friend of mine mentioned above (which is fine, as long as she doesn't form a cult and declare jihad on me) -- consider the following.

For all intents and purposes, from our perspective, the universe goes on forever. Even if we could somehow travel at the speed of light we could never reach the end of it because it's unimaginably large, expanding, and picking up speed as it does so. Also, bleeding edge science suggests there may be an infinity of universes. And in case you missed the news, the known universe consists mostly of dark matter and dark energy, and we don't know what they are.

Let's reverse perspectives and contemplate the fact that if we could perceive reality at the atomic and subatomic level, all we would find are infinitesimally small bits of matter with vast amounts of space between them.

If there's an unimaginable being of some sort that created all this out of nothing, pronouns such as he, she, or it seem not only inadequate but almost offensive, even disrespectful. But if your belief system provides a way for you to deal with this, good on ya. If you promise not to declare jihad on me, I'll return the favor.

If you're a hard-nosed atheist that believes believers are bonkers and agnostics are psychotics, I sorta/kinda envy your certitude. I'll refrain from pointing out that the believers that you mock are often as certain as you are, which would seem to indicate you have a lot in common, because that would be rude.

If you're a hard-nosed _______ that tends to peer down your nose at any and all notions offered up by any of the other kids on the playground that aren't or can't be proven by the application of the scientific method (with the possible exception of the unscientific ones that I have no doubt you embrace), be careful.

Everyone knows that something can't be in two places at once, except that it can. Quantum mechanics (the branch of science that makes your cell phone possible) has posited this for decades. In 2012 the Nobel prize for physics was awarded to Serge Haroche and David J. Winland for finding a way to prove that atoms and electrons can indeed be in two places at once.

Personally, I know for a fact that Beethoven and Duke Ellington, neither a saint, found a way to reproduce the voice of God in a dumb-downed way, so that even we mere humans could hear it.

"I think it's much more interesting to live not knowing than to have answers which might be wrong. I have approximate answers and possible beliefs and different degrees of uncertainty about different things, but I am not absolutely sure of anything and there are many things I don't know anything about, such as whether it means anything to ask why we're here. I don't have to know an answer. I don't feel frightened not knowing things, by being lost in a mysterious universe without any purpose, which is the way it really is a far as I can tell." -Richard Feynman (Nobel prize in Physics, 1965)

"Look up from your life!" -James Taylor

Have an OK day

.©Mark Mehlmauer 2016

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The Great Enrichment

Last week, the subject of my column was the book, "The Righteous Mind" by Jonathan Haidt. Actually, I guess that Bill Moyer's interview of Jonathan Haidt was my primary focus, but let us not quibble gentlereaders.

I also named and defined a modern malady I call Dizzinformation Anxiety Syndrome. This is the fear that you might miss/have missed/are missing important information. The fact that The Righteous Mind, and the interview, have been loose in the world for a few years without me knowing about them triggered an episode of DAS in yours truly due to the fact the subject of the book is one of my obsessions. That is, the devolution of many of the people who have to share this country, into hardened, uncompromising, semi-religious factions that demonize each other's viewpoints and lifestyles. I wonder if this phenomenon reminds anyone besides me of Sunni v. Shia Muslims?

It occurs to me that I'm aware of some information that doesn't seem to be getting the attention it deserves, in my semi-humble opinion. As a public service, I've decided to dedicate a column to it for I think that it should be getting much more attention that it is  -- you're welcome.

First, a caveat. I may be wrong, about this or anything really, a phenomenon that occurs with disturbing regularity. I mention this not because of modesty, false or otherwise; I'm semi-humble, not humble. But I believe that an attitude of healthy skepticism is more important than ever since we must be ever vigilant if we wish to avoid being dizzinformationated by the daily deluge of data delivered during this, the Dizzinformation age.

See Twain, Mark: "Lies, damn lies, and statistics."

[Were I truly humble I'd be a Zen monk and keep my thoughts/opinions/observations and the like to myself instead of putting them out there in front of a potential audience of some 7,404,976,783 people. Though my current readership is slightly smaller than that, I'm cautiously optimistic.]

So, there's this woman, her name is Deirdre McCloskey, who describes herself on her website as, "...a literary, quantitative, postmodern, free-market, progressive Episcopalian, Midwestern woman from Boston who was once a man. Not 'conservative'! I'm a Christian libertarian. "

[For the record, I'm a semi-literary, quantitative, postmodern, free-market, agnostic, Midwestern man from Pittsburgh who remains a man. Not conservative! I'm a bleeding heart libertarian. As you see, there's some overlap. Unfortunately (for me), I'm a dilettante, she's a genius.] 

As far as academia is concerned she's Dr. Deirdre McCloskey, the Distinguished Professor of Economics, History, English and Communications at the University of Illinois at Chicago. None of the words in the preceding sentence are adjectives, they are bestowed upon her by her university. That's her official title, and it also serves as an accurate job description.

Incidentally, Deirdre used to be Daniel. She made the trans-formation back in 1995. Daniel/Diedre was a transexual long before being transexual was cool and/or politically correct. If the details are of interest to you, she wrote a book about it called, "Crossing, a Memoir."

Ms. McCloskey has spent the last ten years of her life writing a series of three books, her masterwork, the culmination of a lifetime of study that will make her (if there's any justice in the world) immortal in her field. She has a lot of fields (see above), but calls herself an economic historian.

There's unlikely to be a movie based on any of the three books in question. And in fact, I don't recommend them for the average Joe or Joan Bagadonuts. They are semi-scholarly tomes, written primarily for other scholars and nerdsihly inclined dilettantes (not unlike myself) that posit/explain/defend her take on economic history. I'm definitely not a scholar. However, there's much here for a dilettante (like myself) with an interest in not only economic history but history in general. She has a depth of knowledge that enables her to effortlessly synthesize economic history and myriad other subjects and construct a big picture view of how the real world actually works. She's a dilettante's delight, and has a great sense of humor. The books are:

The Bourgeois Virtues, Bourgeois Dignity and Bourgeois Equality.

She began her academic career studying economics because she wanted to know what economic/political system was the best for poor people. She became a Marxist but gradually morphed into a wild-eyed free marketeer, just like me! Other than the fact that I've never actually identified myself as a Marxist, haven't had a distinguished career, haven't published numerous books and articles and traveled all over the world teaching/speechifying/attending conferences with other brainiacs -- we have a lot in common.

Now, while accurately distilling the essence of three fat volumes into one column is a disservice to the author, the message is so important I'm going to attempt it anyway. If you wish to find out if I know what I'm talking about you can read the books, or, surf the plethora of articles and video content available on the web.

The Great Enrichment began around 1800. Suddenly, after thousands of  years of 99.9% of the world subsisting on the modern equivalent of about three bucks a day, the global economy went nuts. From 1800 till now the real income of the citizens of the planet Earth increased by anywhere from 2,500 to 5,000%. In the US, for example, we've gone from $3/day to $135/day.

Professor McCloskey's three books explain the who/what/when/where/why of this phenomenon. Continuing my vast over-simplification: It happened because beginning in Holland, around 1600, the values of a liberated bourgeoisie (the middle class, but thanks to Marx and company a word that's now often as not used with contempt) were applied to markets.

In the words of the professor, "The answer, in a word, is 'liberty.' Liberated people, it turns out, are ingenious. Slaves, serfs, subordinated women, people frozen in a hierarchy of lords or bureaucrats are not. By certain accidents of European politics, having nothing to do with deep European virtue, more and more Europeans [and eventually Americans] were liberated. You might call it life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."

"To use another big concept, what came -- slowly, imperfectly -- was equality. It was not an equality of outcome..." it was "...equality before the law and equality of social dignity."

"And that is the other surprising notion explaining our riches: 'liberalism,' in its original meaning of, 'worthy of a free person.' Liberalism was a new idea."

For the record: slavery, imperialism, and/or the exploitation of any group by any other group didn't make us rich. Ms. McCloskey systematically and empirically destroys such arguments. DAT that I am, permit me to persist in oversimplification and ask -- as does Dr. McCloskey does, if the infidelic behavior mentioned above made a given culture rich, why, since that was the way of the world for millennia, why was our take home pay stagnant for several thousand years and then jump by 5,000% over the last two hundred?

I must stop now since I've exceeded my word budget. So, I'm going to violate company policy again this week and leave you with two links and let the co-founder of humanomics speak for herself. The first is a 10 minute, well-done quickie that covers all the basics.

The essentials

The second is a lecture given in India. It goes into more detail but is entertaining, easy to understand, and is about 40 minutes long.

A little more detail

Have an OK day.

©Mark Mehlmauer 2016

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

Click here after you read this column. 

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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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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