One Screen, Two Movies

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

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

Warning: This column is rated SSC — Sexy Seasoned Citizens — Perusal by kids, callowyutes, or grups may result in a debilitating intersectional meltdown.  

About

Glossary 

Erratically Appearing Hallucinatory Guest Star: Dana — A Gentlereader 

"If the Constitution was a movie, the Preamble would be the trailer, the First Amendment the establishing shot, the 13th the crowd pleaser and the 14th the ultimate hero scene." -Henry Rollins

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

{I've got a great idea for solving America's one screen, two movies problem.}

Hey, Dana. May I suggest you define your terms first? 

{According to Big Concept Wiki "One Screen, Two Movies is an idea created by Scott Adams to describe how people...can interpret events and narratives very differently, because they have different mental frameworks."}

Left v. Right? Blue tribe v. Red tribe? Is that where you're going?

{Pervasive political polarization, yes.}

Our gentlereaders await your wisdom. 

{What if each of the fifty states had a lot more autonomy?}

Well, our country's full name is The United States of America, which would seem to suggest...   

{I remember hearing something about the colonies having a hell of a time agreeing on what the Rules&Regs should be and even if they should decide to join the team.} 

I was taught that the first attempt at solving this problem, the Articles of Confederation, vested too much of the governing power in the individual states and that the Constitution solved that problem. 

However, that's why the Constitution clearly states that The Fedrl Gummit (it was known as the Federal Government back then) only has the powers specifically spelled out in the Rules&Regs, that all other governing powers were held by the individual states. 

You get all the benefits of being part of a strong, independent country on a planet that's chock full of bullies that want your lunch money but you also belong to a much smaller, individual state where you and your neighbors can run things the way you want to. 

Win/win. 

Also, different states can try different policies and programs and if they don't work out you can move on without harming the whole country, if they do work out the other states, or even The Fedrl Gummit, can follow the example.  

{I like it... so what happened?}

Better than 200 years of history. This being the work of a semi-humble columnist and not a book written by a respected historian (or even a semi-respected, best-selling charlatan) I semi-humbly offer the following summary.

Life was hard and harsh for most Citizens of the Republic, as it ever has been and always will be for most H. sapiens, but things slowly but steadily improved for many. Others not so much. 

For a very long time, a combination of different (many now outdated) sensibilities, 

And, 

Only so much money and technical knowledge (on all fronts) to go around, limited what was possible for a confederated group of states (united or otherwise) to accomplish.

However, 

Eventually, there was more than enough money, technology, and government to create The Fedrl Gummit.

Now, plenty of money sloshing around, ever-evolving technology, and the unlikely success (more or less) of the American experiment...

{American experiment?}   

From an editorial published in the New York Daily Tribune, 11/27/1860:  

Is the democratic principle of equal rights, general suffrage, and government by a majority, capable of being carried into practical operation, and that, too, over a large extent of country? 

See, when America was invented, we were the first ones to try to build a country based on the principles of what nowadays is called the Enlightenment. There was no guarantee that what we now take for granted would work as it hadn't been tried before.

Where was I? Prosperity...advancing technology...unlikely success of the American experiment... 

Oh yeah, this resulted in a hooge organization of federated states, a government unimaginable in size, and power, to our founding pasty patriarchs. 

This isn't necessarily a bad thing. Big is good for crushing warped little dicktaters with tiny mustaches looking to conquer the world, for example. 

Big is bad when well (and not so well...) meaning utopians want to force the unawokened to adopt new Rules&Regs without being able to point to a successful experiment. 

California's run by Wokies. It's a mess and people are fleeing. If you don't believe me research it as if you're thinking about moving there... with children. Given the state of the Golden State, I wouldn't want to live there, however, I wish them well. 

BIG BUT,

If any other given state wants to outlaw things not actually covered by the Constitution, like abortion or gay marriage I wish them well too... although I personally support limited abortion rights and gay marriage.

Live and let live. As a briefly famous Californian once said, "Can't we all get along?" 

Poppa loves you,

Have an OK day

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It Is What It Is

This looks like a job for Grandfather Man!

Image by Nina Garman from Pixabay

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

Warning: This column is rated SSC — Sexy Seasoned Citizens — Perusal by kids, callowyutes, or grups may result in a debilitating intersectional meltdown. 

About

Glossary 

Erratically Appearing Hallucinatory Guest Star: Dana — A Gentlereader  

"Always remember the last words of my grandfather who said: 'A truck!'"

                                                                                   -Emo Philips

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

A given it is what it is, is as obvious as, the fact that life is one thing after another...

{And you sir, have a keen eye for the obvious. Wouldn't this be a good place to insert that Edna St. Vincent Millay quote? "It's not true that life is one damn thing after another — it's one damn thing over and over — there's the rub — first you get sick — then you get sicker...}

No, too depressing.

Anyways, what I find interesting is that although both phrases are literally true — for example, life is one thing after another for creatures that experience life linearly — both can simultaneously be literally and poetically true.   

For example, according to dictionary.com (and The New York Times) the phrase it is what it is can be traced back to an article by J.E. Lawrence published in the Nebraska State Journal in 1949, and was deployed thusly. 

“New land is harsh, and vigorous, and sturdy. It scorns evidence of weakness. There is nothing of sham or hypocrisy in it. It is what it is, without apology.”

{Huh. Fascinating stuff there Cranky.}

A sturdy column, not unlike a sturdy house, must be "founded upon a rock" and not "upon the sand" lest the rains descend, the floods come, and the winds blow.

{Or somebody huffs, and puffs, and blows your column down?}

Begone, infidel, I'm teaching life lessons here!

Recently, one of the Stickies witnessed someone nearly dying from an opioid overdose as he/she/they (far be it from me to assign a pronoun) was about to tuck into a stack of pancakes at a Denny's restaurant. 

Short story short, his head suddenly slumped forward, 911 was dialed, NARCAN® was administered, our protagonist was carted out. 

{When his head slumped forward did it land...}

No, Dana, it didn't land in his/her/their pancakes... stop laughing! 

Now, one of my bright, comely, and empathetic young grandpersons was the Sticky that witnessed this drama and she (her pronoun choice) was understandably horrified/mildly traumatized. 

When she recounted this misadventure to me, unable to help myself, I dashed into the nearest phone booth and emerged — hands-on-hips, a large G on my chest, my cape gently swaying in the non-existent breeze — as Grandfather Man!

[Insert brief, heroic fanfare]

"Did he/she/they survive as far as you know?" I asked. 

"Yes," she replied. 

Seeking to comfort her, I immediately invoked three of my superpowers. 

My Mr. Spock-like tendency to revert to logic/reason (or at least try to) in the face of crisis. My Groucho Marx-like tendency (or at least try to) to look for the smile in the face of same. And, of course, my keen eye for the obvious.

I pointed out that while the situation certainly sucked sweaty socks, at least he/she/they left the restaurant alive. 

I pointed out that it's not what happens to you in life, it's how you react to it (once you catch your breath), what you do about it, and deciding if there is anything you can do about it. 

(I refrained from pointing out this is Stoicism 101, hoping she'd think I'm smarter than I look.) 

I pointed out that if he/she/they had died the last thought thought/emotion experienced would have been something like, "Ooooh, pancakes!" 

{Thought thought?}

Thought thunk?    

I pointed out that the obvious lesson to be learned was that although I was worldly-wise enough to understand that she might consider experimenting with alcohol and weed when she reached her mid-twenties (although 30 would be better), that all other recreational pharmaceuticals should always and forever be avoided. 

{Well, at least you have a realistic perspective.}   

She then threw her arms around me, kissed me gently on the cheek, and said, "I love you, Poppa, I hope that I can be there for you when you're in your dotage so that I can care for you and repay you for all that you have done for me!"

{Not even close, Sparky, I think you're already sliding into dotafication.}

Well, I'm certain that she thought about it. But being a gentle, shy, naturally modest and reserved gentleperson by nature, she successfully resisted her immediate impulse.

{I'm impressed. How ever did you manage to deduce that from the dubious expression on her face?}  

It was obvious.   

Poppa loves you,

Have an OK day

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It’s All a Con, Man

 A Conspiracies of Convenience column

Image by Please Don't sell My Artwork AS IS from Pixabay 

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

Warning: This column is rated SSC — Sexy Seasoned Citizens — Perusal by kids, callowyutes, or grups may result in a debilitating intersectional meltdown.  

About

Glossary 

Erratically Appearing Hallucinatory Guest Star: Dana — A Gentlereader  

"Life isn't black and white, It's a million grey areas, don't you find?"

-Ridley Scott

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

In a past life — and a long time ago in a state far, far away (Texas) — I found myself working briefly but closely with a gentleperson named Bob. We were co-managers of a company that ran ice cream trucks in Austin.

Managing the gentlepeople who drive ice cream trucks was the inspiration for the phrase, like herding cats.

Bob had a habit of saying, “It’s all a con, man” whenever something even weirder/stranger/more disturbing/etcetering than usual happened and peed on our Chi. I got into the habit of responding, “It’s a feckin conspiracy, what it is.”

I have written elsewhere that "A conspiracy of convenience is one that doesn't require a Dr. Evil or even a Simon Bar Sinister to concoct and control." People can find themselves involved in the same conspiracy without ever having met most, if any, of their fellow conspirators."

Multiple virtual conspirators who appear to be part of an organized conspiracy are, often as not, merely individuals who happen to be inspired by the same ideology — or following the money. 

I was thinking about my brief Texas adventure the other day, something I do from time to time. I met my late, great wife there, the culmination of the best year of my life (so far).

However, I'm sorry Bob, but I don't usually think about you.

{Let me guess, this is where you tell us about how although you haven't seen each other since 1985 you faithfully exchange Christmas cards and...}

Nope. Haven't seen hide nor hair (nor Christmas Card) since. But I've never forgotten Bob's world-class cynicism and great sense of humor, both of which shielded a man with a big heart.

This is why, when I was recently reminded that the Black Lives Matter organization still exists, I thought of Bob.

{Right. Obviously?}

Well... I knew that, like me, Bob would have two questions if he was recently reminded that BLM still exists (assuming Bob still exists). The first one would be, I wonder where all the money went? 

The other would be, what changed between the summer of 2020 and the summer of 2021 for African-Americans? And where did all the mostly peaceful protestors go?

{Wait, wait, wait. What was it that got you thinking about the BLM organization in the first place? You're clearly a POP (person of pallor).} 

I was reminded that the organization still exists, at least in New York City, when Eric Adams — former cop, current African-American, and the next mayor of the Big Apple — was "called out" by Hawk Newsom (co-founder of BLMs New York Chapter) after the group recently met with Adams.

Adam's promised that if he was elected, he'd take back control of the streets. Mr. Newsom said, "There will be riots, there will be fire and there will be bloodshed" if the new mayor fulfills his promise to reinstate plainclothes cops in NYC.    

Anyways... where did all the money go? Type something like the following into your search engine of choice (I prefer the Googs). "What did Black Lives Matter do with all the donations they received in 2020?

I followed several links and came to the following conclusion. Officially, BLM pulled in roughly $90,000,000 in 2020, gave grants of $21,700,000 to various organizations, and spent $8,400,000 on expenses. 

This left them with a balance of about $60,000,000. 

These numbers come from an Associated Press story that appeared in the LA Times under the headline, Exclusive: Black Lives Matters opens up about its finances, which was published last February, a variation of which all sorts of media outlets have used for their coverage. 

I'm probably missing something, but the article's point seems to be that factions within the organization have turned on each other and the money doesn't seem to be flowing downhill, and not much about how the money was/is actually spent.  

 

{So what did happen last summer? 2020 is ancient history. Where did all the mostly peaceful protestors go? After all, systemic racism is still a thing.}

I don't know.     

I googled the question, what happened to Black Lives Matter in 2021? Try it yourself. If I had to give an answer I'd say the movement is now a mostly virtual/social media phenomenon. Protests are relatively small, relatively rare, and mostly peaceful.

The BLM website itself now appears to be primarily just another focused news aggregation site. But you can buy $30 t-shirts and 3"x3" BLACK LIVES MATTER stickers for two bucks each by clicking on the SHOP link.    

Poppa loves you,

Have an OK day

Scroll down to share this column/access oldies. If you enjoy my work, and no advertising, please consider buying me a coffee via PayPal/credit-debit card.    

Feel free to comment (be kind) via my Facebook or Twitter page. I post my latest columns on Saturdays, other things other days, but I don't post replies.