The NPR-Juan Williams thing is why the Great Spirit made television: pure entertainment. NPR, of course, comes across as ideologically rigid, unfair, and not very bright.
But Juan Williams and his cohorts at Fox News are using the occasion to take both umbrage and gloating to new levels. The umbrage was at the seeming injustice of firing poor Juan for expressing in measured, non-inflammatory language a queasiness about getting on a plane with individuals in Muslim garb, a queasiness shared by perhaps 90 percent of his fellow citizens. The gloating was, “see, this proves our point about how hypocritical those pinhead leftwing liberals are.”
Juan-Fox, however, are in danger of overplaying their hand. In the day or so after his firing—which was immediately followed by a lucrative new contract for Juan with Fox—Juan was the guest host of Bill O’Reilly’s Factor. Instead of exercising a little low-keyed humor that would have made NPR even more the Ogre, Juan whined. And whined. And whined.
Whining is what Fox and conservatives accuse liberals of doing. But it appears that liberals haven’t cornered the market in whining. Juan and the other Fox conservatives have shown an ability to whine with the best of them.
One is tempted to resort to a favorite new phrase among distaff conservatives: Man Up.
Man Up, Juan. Stop your whining, enjoy your monetary largess, and get on with your life.
Incidentally, the perfect, though undoubtedly political incorrect, response of a Harry Reid or other target of a “Man Up” would be, “Hey Sweetheart, grow a pair.”
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
GOBI MARATHON
Hey Runners, tired of those multi-thousand person races in which you're rubbing elbows, butts, and whatever with your buddies for miles? Well, there are alternatives. One of Cranky's daughters sent some pictures of the 2010 Gobi Marathon in Mongolia. Here they are.
Nothing like a pre-race squirt of camel's milk:
And we're off:
Anybody seen a Porta Potty?
A tree would be nice:
Where are the cheering multitudes?
Wish you were here:
Nothing like a pre-race squirt of camel's milk:
And we're off:
Anybody seen a Porta Potty?
A tree would be nice:
Where are the cheering multitudes?
Wish you were here:
Sunday, August 22, 2010
C&O CANAL ENCOUNTER
Recently—actually it was the hottest freakin’ four days of the year—Cranky and his oldest daughter did a little bike ride from Meyersdale in southern Pennsylvania to Washington, D.C., about 220 miles. The first 35 or so were on the Great Alleghany Passage trail from Pittsburgh to Cumberland, Maryland. The last 185 were on the C&O Canal trail.
All-in-all it was good time, but seriously hot. Also, after the first 25 or so miles each day, pretty brutal: tender crotch, pained back and neck. Cranky’s theory is that bikes are meant to be ridden no more than 30 miles at a time. At 30 miles, the body says, “enough of this.”
But still a good time. The Great Alleghany Passage and the C&O trails are kinda neat; not crowded, in places even empty. The C&O parallels the Potomac, so there’s always a flowing river close by. The C&O is also mostly shaded, a nice thing when the temperature is pushing 100.
An encounter, however, moved the trip from the just-good-time category to the memorable category. Cranky and his daughter encountered a nudist, a well-endowed nudist who was obviously proud of his equipment.
A number of campsites are along the C&O. They usually consist of a small clearing, sometimes a picnic table or two, and a pump that produces water from a well. On day two of the trip, a few miles east of the Paw Paw Tunnel, the travelers—Cranky and his daughter—stopped at one such campsite to replenish water. Just before the campsite was a small stone bridge. A couple—a man and a woman—were sitting on one of the bridge’s knee-high walls. The water pump was just beyond the end of the bridge. As Cranky and daughter pedaled past, Cranky got the distinct impression that the man was not clothed. He seemed to have a towel or tee shirt in his lap, but that was all.
But water was needed, so with a cheerful “we’re just gettin’ some water,” the travelers pulled up to the pump and proceeded with the task. After a few moments, the couple rose and began walking past the travelers to the grassy campsite. The woman had on a shirt and shorts. The man had on nothing and made little effort to cover himself with the towel or tee shirt he was carrying. Other than the man’s nudity, the couple weren’t threatening in any way.
The man appeared to be of South Asian, perhaps Indian, ethnicity. As he ambled down into the campsite, his ample brown buttocks bounced and rippled.
But the encounter had not reached its high point. The travelers finished replenishing their water and prepared to depart. As the travelers were mounting their bikes, the couple began returning to the bridge. The man was providing full frontal nudity. Cranky’s daughter, a modest young married lass, claims not to have gotten a full look, although someone distinctly exclaimed “WOW!” Cranky admits getting a full look and can make two definitive statements. The gentleman was not circumcised. And the gentleman was, well, hung like a horse. We’re talking a world-class Johnson.
If he were a younger man, Cranky could well have left the encounter feeling extremely inadequate. But at his advanced age, his predominant response has been to marvel at what nature occasionally accomplishes.
So, if you’re ever biking or hiking the C&O to the east of the Paw Paw Tunnel, keep alert. There’s more to be seen than deer, turtles, and the occasional bear. One of nature’s wonders might be in the area.
All-in-all it was good time, but seriously hot. Also, after the first 25 or so miles each day, pretty brutal: tender crotch, pained back and neck. Cranky’s theory is that bikes are meant to be ridden no more than 30 miles at a time. At 30 miles, the body says, “enough of this.”
But still a good time. The Great Alleghany Passage and the C&O trails are kinda neat; not crowded, in places even empty. The C&O parallels the Potomac, so there’s always a flowing river close by. The C&O is also mostly shaded, a nice thing when the temperature is pushing 100.
An encounter, however, moved the trip from the just-good-time category to the memorable category. Cranky and his daughter encountered a nudist, a well-endowed nudist who was obviously proud of his equipment.
A number of campsites are along the C&O. They usually consist of a small clearing, sometimes a picnic table or two, and a pump that produces water from a well. On day two of the trip, a few miles east of the Paw Paw Tunnel, the travelers—Cranky and his daughter—stopped at one such campsite to replenish water. Just before the campsite was a small stone bridge. A couple—a man and a woman—were sitting on one of the bridge’s knee-high walls. The water pump was just beyond the end of the bridge. As Cranky and daughter pedaled past, Cranky got the distinct impression that the man was not clothed. He seemed to have a towel or tee shirt in his lap, but that was all.
But water was needed, so with a cheerful “we’re just gettin’ some water,” the travelers pulled up to the pump and proceeded with the task. After a few moments, the couple rose and began walking past the travelers to the grassy campsite. The woman had on a shirt and shorts. The man had on nothing and made little effort to cover himself with the towel or tee shirt he was carrying. Other than the man’s nudity, the couple weren’t threatening in any way.
The man appeared to be of South Asian, perhaps Indian, ethnicity. As he ambled down into the campsite, his ample brown buttocks bounced and rippled.
But the encounter had not reached its high point. The travelers finished replenishing their water and prepared to depart. As the travelers were mounting their bikes, the couple began returning to the bridge. The man was providing full frontal nudity. Cranky’s daughter, a modest young married lass, claims not to have gotten a full look, although someone distinctly exclaimed “WOW!” Cranky admits getting a full look and can make two definitive statements. The gentleman was not circumcised. And the gentleman was, well, hung like a horse. We’re talking a world-class Johnson.
If he were a younger man, Cranky could well have left the encounter feeling extremely inadequate. But at his advanced age, his predominant response has been to marvel at what nature occasionally accomplishes.
So, if you’re ever biking or hiking the C&O to the east of the Paw Paw Tunnel, keep alert. There’s more to be seen than deer, turtles, and the occasional bear. One of nature’s wonders might be in the area.
Monday, July 19, 2010
ALVIN GREENE FOR SENATOR
The people of South Carolina should set aside Alvin Greene's inexperience and elect him to the United States. Why? Because he is not Jim DeMint.
Wednesday, July 07, 2010
SUPREME COURT MEETS INFORMATION AGE, PUNTS
Guns were the subject of the most prominent decision issued by the Supreme Court on June 28, the last day of its 2009-2010 term. But another decision issued that day might ultimately have the most far-reaching impact, at least for the nation’s economic life.
The decision was Bilski v. Kappos, and the subject was patents. Yes, patents; for most, a mind-numbing topic.
In Bilski, the Court affirmed a lower court decision that a process involving a form of financial derivative, specifically a hedging transaction in the energy markets, was not patentable. But the Supremes declined to enunciate a hard rule. Essentially, they left the matter to a case-by-case determination.
Hedging? Sound a little familiar, doesn’t it? Yes, hedging, and other financial exotica were central to the financial crisis that descended upon the nation in 2007. And although the U.S. Patent Office had not granted a patent in the Bilski matter, it has granted quite a number of patents for similar processes and products.
The patent system began at a time when inventions were primarily tangible things. But largely as a result of the computer and the Information Age it brought about, the nature of innovation has changed. Both the importance and ease of innovation in various realms that are not quite tangible—concepts, processes, systems, methods, software, and the like—have increased significantly. Distinguishing mundane from meaningful innovation in these realms of the not-quite-tangible poses many difficulties.
The U.S. patent system has struggled with these difficulties. Following a decision by the Court of Appeals for the Federal Circuit in 1998—the State Street decision—the Patent Office, attempting to adhere to the court’s ruling, swung toward the extreme of no limits on what processes and other not-quite-tangibles could be patented. The resulting patents are often referred to as business methods patents.
Many business methods patents issued by the Patent Office in the years after 1998 were controversial. Briefly described processes and other not-quite-tangibles were criticized as attempts to patent the long-standing or obvious. Detailed described processes were subject to the same criticism and in many cases to another criticism: as described, the alleged innovations were simply beyond comprehension, the convoluted wording amounting to little more than gobbledygook.
Prominent among those business methods was the output of a new Information Age profession, financial engineering. Remember Lehman Brothers? Its failure in September 2008 brought the growing financial problems front and center. Like many organizations in contemporary high finance, Lehman Brothers had been assigned patents for financial “inventions.” One of Lehman’s patents, issued in August 2007, was entitled “Methods and Systems for Analyzing and Predicting Market Winners and Losers.” The patent involved massaging, with a computer program, performance and volume data for securities. Perhaps this particular computer program wasn’t quite up to snuff, eh Lehman?
In December 2007, JPMorgan Chase Bank, N.A., whose parent would rescue Bear Stearns a few months later, received a patent for a computer-implemented financial model involving asset-backed commercial paper. The model produced lower estimates of the liquidity—backup cash—allegedly needed to support a portfolio of assets financed in the commercial paper market. But insufficient liquidity turned out to be a major problem in the early months of the financial crisis. Some patent, huh JP?
Other notable Wall Street denizens that hold patents on alleged computerized improvements to high finance include Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley, Barclays Bank, Citicorp, Bank of America, and Credit Suisse First Boston. Big name Wall Street firms are not the only players. Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, for example, have patents. IBM has a patent for a method to analyze financial derivatives. The Trustees of Columbia University have a patent for providing “Robust” investment portfolios. Indeed, with business methods patents in the financial field as sources, a decent history of the current financial predicament could be attempted.
The point is not to blame the world’s financial difficulties on patents. The patents are just evidence of how the computer and the Information Age have produced a financial system that we mere mortals are having difficulty controlling.
But back to Bilski. The Supreme Court upheld the Patent Office’s denial of the particular hedging process at issue. All of the Justices agreed that no patent should be granted for the described hedging process in the energy markets. But there was no single rationale that could provide much-needed guidance to the Patent Office and the patent and business communities. Four Justices—Kennedy, who wrote the opinion of the Court, Roberts, Thomas, and Alito—said as little as possible. They defined the proposed patent as an abstract concept and rejected it for abstractness. But they did not hold that business methods were unpatentable. Business methods present special Information Age challenges—the opinion specifically recognizes the existence of the Information Age—but the four Justices found no general prohibition on the granting of patents for business methods.
Four other Justices—Stevens, who wrote a concurring opinion, Breyer, who joined in that opinion and also wrote another concurring opinion, Ginsburg, and Sotomayor—took a more expansive view. They would have prohibited business methods patents. Justice Scalia joined a portion of Kennedy’s opinion and a portion of Breyer’s opinion. The portions of Kennedy’s opinion and Breyer’s opinion that Scalia joined were portions that did not question patents for business methods. Interestingly, the portions of Kennedy’s opinion Scalia did not join were also the only portions of the opinion that referred to the Information Age. Perhaps a Constitutional Originalist and the Information Age don’t mix well.
So the outcome is a very messy situation. Business methods patents did not cause the financial crisis and the Great Recession, but they do reflect the thinking that produced those events. And business methods patents are posing significant difficulties for the patent system. The Supreme Court could have provided a little clarity to a very confusing area of the law. By only addressing the factual decision before it and not taking a broader look at an Information Age challenge, however, the Court punted. Now it’s someone else’s problem.
The decision was Bilski v. Kappos, and the subject was patents. Yes, patents; for most, a mind-numbing topic.
In Bilski, the Court affirmed a lower court decision that a process involving a form of financial derivative, specifically a hedging transaction in the energy markets, was not patentable. But the Supremes declined to enunciate a hard rule. Essentially, they left the matter to a case-by-case determination.
Hedging? Sound a little familiar, doesn’t it? Yes, hedging, and other financial exotica were central to the financial crisis that descended upon the nation in 2007. And although the U.S. Patent Office had not granted a patent in the Bilski matter, it has granted quite a number of patents for similar processes and products.
The patent system began at a time when inventions were primarily tangible things. But largely as a result of the computer and the Information Age it brought about, the nature of innovation has changed. Both the importance and ease of innovation in various realms that are not quite tangible—concepts, processes, systems, methods, software, and the like—have increased significantly. Distinguishing mundane from meaningful innovation in these realms of the not-quite-tangible poses many difficulties.
The U.S. patent system has struggled with these difficulties. Following a decision by the Court of Appeals for the Federal Circuit in 1998—the State Street decision—the Patent Office, attempting to adhere to the court’s ruling, swung toward the extreme of no limits on what processes and other not-quite-tangibles could be patented. The resulting patents are often referred to as business methods patents.
Many business methods patents issued by the Patent Office in the years after 1998 were controversial. Briefly described processes and other not-quite-tangibles were criticized as attempts to patent the long-standing or obvious. Detailed described processes were subject to the same criticism and in many cases to another criticism: as described, the alleged innovations were simply beyond comprehension, the convoluted wording amounting to little more than gobbledygook.
Prominent among those business methods was the output of a new Information Age profession, financial engineering. Remember Lehman Brothers? Its failure in September 2008 brought the growing financial problems front and center. Like many organizations in contemporary high finance, Lehman Brothers had been assigned patents for financial “inventions.” One of Lehman’s patents, issued in August 2007, was entitled “Methods and Systems for Analyzing and Predicting Market Winners and Losers.” The patent involved massaging, with a computer program, performance and volume data for securities. Perhaps this particular computer program wasn’t quite up to snuff, eh Lehman?
In December 2007, JPMorgan Chase Bank, N.A., whose parent would rescue Bear Stearns a few months later, received a patent for a computer-implemented financial model involving asset-backed commercial paper. The model produced lower estimates of the liquidity—backup cash—allegedly needed to support a portfolio of assets financed in the commercial paper market. But insufficient liquidity turned out to be a major problem in the early months of the financial crisis. Some patent, huh JP?
Other notable Wall Street denizens that hold patents on alleged computerized improvements to high finance include Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley, Barclays Bank, Citicorp, Bank of America, and Credit Suisse First Boston. Big name Wall Street firms are not the only players. Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, for example, have patents. IBM has a patent for a method to analyze financial derivatives. The Trustees of Columbia University have a patent for providing “Robust” investment portfolios. Indeed, with business methods patents in the financial field as sources, a decent history of the current financial predicament could be attempted.
The point is not to blame the world’s financial difficulties on patents. The patents are just evidence of how the computer and the Information Age have produced a financial system that we mere mortals are having difficulty controlling.
But back to Bilski. The Supreme Court upheld the Patent Office’s denial of the particular hedging process at issue. All of the Justices agreed that no patent should be granted for the described hedging process in the energy markets. But there was no single rationale that could provide much-needed guidance to the Patent Office and the patent and business communities. Four Justices—Kennedy, who wrote the opinion of the Court, Roberts, Thomas, and Alito—said as little as possible. They defined the proposed patent as an abstract concept and rejected it for abstractness. But they did not hold that business methods were unpatentable. Business methods present special Information Age challenges—the opinion specifically recognizes the existence of the Information Age—but the four Justices found no general prohibition on the granting of patents for business methods.
Four other Justices—Stevens, who wrote a concurring opinion, Breyer, who joined in that opinion and also wrote another concurring opinion, Ginsburg, and Sotomayor—took a more expansive view. They would have prohibited business methods patents. Justice Scalia joined a portion of Kennedy’s opinion and a portion of Breyer’s opinion. The portions of Kennedy’s opinion and Breyer’s opinion that Scalia joined were portions that did not question patents for business methods. Interestingly, the portions of Kennedy’s opinion Scalia did not join were also the only portions of the opinion that referred to the Information Age. Perhaps a Constitutional Originalist and the Information Age don’t mix well.
So the outcome is a very messy situation. Business methods patents did not cause the financial crisis and the Great Recession, but they do reflect the thinking that produced those events. And business methods patents are posing significant difficulties for the patent system. The Supreme Court could have provided a little clarity to a very confusing area of the law. By only addressing the factual decision before it and not taking a broader look at an Information Age challenge, however, the Court punted. Now it’s someone else’s problem.
Friday, June 25, 2010
GENERAL McCHRYSTAL'S RELIEF
“The Joint Chiefs have ordered everyone to stay in their homes. Do not leave your homes until permitted to do so.”
It’s been 35 years since Cranky heard those words. They were spoken in jest but Cranky, a young Army Reserve Officer on a two-week active duty tour at a headquarters in Japan, of all places, still found them somewhat chilling. The time was early August 1974, and the Watergate Scandal had reached its climax: Richard Nixon was resigning as President of the United States.
Cranky was with a small group of Army officers, most of them colonels, lieutenant colonels, and majors—and thus senior to him—in a conference room. The group was waiting for a meeting on a long forgotten subject to begin. A television monitor was replaying a stateside news report on Nixon’s resignation, and a few of those watching were providing largely humorous commentary. One such comment was the above implication that martial law had been declared.
The comment elicited no more noticeable reaction than the other comments. The television was soon switched off, the meeting called to order, and those present returned to mundane things.
But the words stuck with Cranky all these years and came quickly to mind when the Rolling Stone article on General Stanley McChrystal appeared. The comments and banter reported in the article are most likely not unfamiliar to those who have spent time in or around the military. The thing difficult to comprehend is their utterance in the presence of an outsider, particularly a member of the media.
Here are two thoughts. First, General McChrystal and at least some members of his staff are of the special operations community. Members of this community are a unique breed. Very well-trained and capable. But also very isolated. Macho to a fault. And for the most part contemptuous of outsiders, including even members of the regular military community.
The special ops community has limited contact with members of the media, and what contact that does occur is usually with very supportive reporters and under very controlled conditions. Then comes a high profile regular assignment such as Commander of all forces in Afghanistan. The media is no longer as dependably friendly and the conditions no longer as controllable. General McChrystal may have recognized the changed environment but at least some of his staff apparently did not. They still felt free to utter politically incorrect things and to bad mouth any outsiders. They didn’t get the change from secret base Zulu One to front and center in Kabul.
Thought number two concerns a compounding of the situation. The United States military, particularly the Army, is no longer a self-supporting outfit. All sorts of administrative and logistical functions once done by soldiers are now done by civilian employees and contractors. This may save some money, but it means less control by the military chain of command.
One field that has seen growth in nonmilitary personnel is public affairs. Part of this is the general outsourcing of military jobs. But part of it has been the result of efforts to ensure that military spokespersons, particularly at a high level, are saying things compatible with the desires of the Administration in power. And still a third part is a feeling that in this media dominated world, an “expert” in all things media is needed.
Ponder the contrast in spokespersons between the Gulf War in 1990-91 and the Iraq War that commenced in 2003. The spokespersons at General Norman Schwarzkoph’s headquarters during the Gulf War were occasionally the General his own self and at most other times a high ranking military officer performing public affairs duties. For the Iraq War, the military spokespersons enjoyed no such solitude. The uncertainties about why the Iraq War was being fought, what it was achieving, and how success was being measured apparently meant that public affairs could not be left to the military. Civilian spokespersons from the Bush Administration were prominent at military briefings and played leading roles in public affairs efforts.
According to media reports, including one in the Washington Post on June 22, civilian media advisors for high ranking military officers have become common. General McChrystal had one such advisor, Duncan Boothby. He resigned when the Rolling Stone interview first came to public attention. In the words of the Washington Post article, “Military officials say civilians are often better suited to provide constructive criticism and unconventional ideas than military public affairs professionals.”
Maybe so, but here’s an assertion from a former military public affairs professional: if a military public affairs professional with explicit responsibility for public affairs had been on General McChrystal’s staff, there’s no way the General and his subordinates would have been blabbing like the stereotype of gossipy, back-biting teenage girls. Outsourcing has its limits.
It’s been 35 years since Cranky heard those words. They were spoken in jest but Cranky, a young Army Reserve Officer on a two-week active duty tour at a headquarters in Japan, of all places, still found them somewhat chilling. The time was early August 1974, and the Watergate Scandal had reached its climax: Richard Nixon was resigning as President of the United States.
Cranky was with a small group of Army officers, most of them colonels, lieutenant colonels, and majors—and thus senior to him—in a conference room. The group was waiting for a meeting on a long forgotten subject to begin. A television monitor was replaying a stateside news report on Nixon’s resignation, and a few of those watching were providing largely humorous commentary. One such comment was the above implication that martial law had been declared.
The comment elicited no more noticeable reaction than the other comments. The television was soon switched off, the meeting called to order, and those present returned to mundane things.
But the words stuck with Cranky all these years and came quickly to mind when the Rolling Stone article on General Stanley McChrystal appeared. The comments and banter reported in the article are most likely not unfamiliar to those who have spent time in or around the military. The thing difficult to comprehend is their utterance in the presence of an outsider, particularly a member of the media.
Here are two thoughts. First, General McChrystal and at least some members of his staff are of the special operations community. Members of this community are a unique breed. Very well-trained and capable. But also very isolated. Macho to a fault. And for the most part contemptuous of outsiders, including even members of the regular military community.
The special ops community has limited contact with members of the media, and what contact that does occur is usually with very supportive reporters and under very controlled conditions. Then comes a high profile regular assignment such as Commander of all forces in Afghanistan. The media is no longer as dependably friendly and the conditions no longer as controllable. General McChrystal may have recognized the changed environment but at least some of his staff apparently did not. They still felt free to utter politically incorrect things and to bad mouth any outsiders. They didn’t get the change from secret base Zulu One to front and center in Kabul.
Thought number two concerns a compounding of the situation. The United States military, particularly the Army, is no longer a self-supporting outfit. All sorts of administrative and logistical functions once done by soldiers are now done by civilian employees and contractors. This may save some money, but it means less control by the military chain of command.
One field that has seen growth in nonmilitary personnel is public affairs. Part of this is the general outsourcing of military jobs. But part of it has been the result of efforts to ensure that military spokespersons, particularly at a high level, are saying things compatible with the desires of the Administration in power. And still a third part is a feeling that in this media dominated world, an “expert” in all things media is needed.
Ponder the contrast in spokespersons between the Gulf War in 1990-91 and the Iraq War that commenced in 2003. The spokespersons at General Norman Schwarzkoph’s headquarters during the Gulf War were occasionally the General his own self and at most other times a high ranking military officer performing public affairs duties. For the Iraq War, the military spokespersons enjoyed no such solitude. The uncertainties about why the Iraq War was being fought, what it was achieving, and how success was being measured apparently meant that public affairs could not be left to the military. Civilian spokespersons from the Bush Administration were prominent at military briefings and played leading roles in public affairs efforts.
According to media reports, including one in the Washington Post on June 22, civilian media advisors for high ranking military officers have become common. General McChrystal had one such advisor, Duncan Boothby. He resigned when the Rolling Stone interview first came to public attention. In the words of the Washington Post article, “Military officials say civilians are often better suited to provide constructive criticism and unconventional ideas than military public affairs professionals.”
Maybe so, but here’s an assertion from a former military public affairs professional: if a military public affairs professional with explicit responsibility for public affairs had been on General McChrystal’s staff, there’s no way the General and his subordinates would have been blabbing like the stereotype of gossipy, back-biting teenage girls. Outsourcing has its limits.
Monday, June 14, 2010
SOUTH CAROLINA
The next time South Carolinians want to secede from the United States, let ‘em. In fact, maybe we ought to throw them out. Whoever said the state was too small to be a republic but too large to be an insane asylum was certainly on point.
Mark Sanford, his Argentine Honey, and the Appalachian Trail; two alleged Southern Gentlemen publicly claiming sex with a female politician; another alleged Southern Gentleman calling that female politician a “raghead”; Lee Atwater; allegations that John McCain fathered in interracial child out of wedlock; Democratic Senatorial Primary winner Alvin Greene; Senator Jim DeMint. Is it the water, the mosquitoes, or what?
A successful democracy requires a modicum of maturity on the part of the electorate. South Carolina, you don’t make the cut.
Mark Sanford, his Argentine Honey, and the Appalachian Trail; two alleged Southern Gentlemen publicly claiming sex with a female politician; another alleged Southern Gentleman calling that female politician a “raghead”; Lee Atwater; allegations that John McCain fathered in interracial child out of wedlock; Democratic Senatorial Primary winner Alvin Greene; Senator Jim DeMint. Is it the water, the mosquitoes, or what?
A successful democracy requires a modicum of maturity on the part of the electorate. South Carolina, you don’t make the cut.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
ADULT ENTERTAINMENT TIPPING DEVICE
Want a look at the latest contribution to the national welfare by the U.S. Patent Office? It is patent number 7,716,081, entitled Tipping Device and issued May 11, 2010. Below is the drawing and the patent abstract.
A tipping device for dispensing a tip from a patron to a performer, such as in an adult dance venue, generally comprises a transaction apparatus including a money receiver at a first location for receiving money for the tip from the patron and a tip dispenser at a second location for dispensing the tip into the air so as to create an entertaining effect. The tip dispenser may be suspended by a winch above the performer. Preferably, the tip is dispensed out of reach of the patron at the first location and such that a patron at the first location may see the performer while the tip is being dispensed. The tipping device may include a spotlight or flashing lights for highlighting the patron during dispensing of the tip.
A tipping device for dispensing a tip from a patron to a performer, such as in an adult dance venue, generally comprises a transaction apparatus including a money receiver at a first location for receiving money for the tip from the patron and a tip dispenser at a second location for dispensing the tip into the air so as to create an entertaining effect. The tip dispenser may be suspended by a winch above the performer. Preferably, the tip is dispensed out of reach of the patron at the first location and such that a patron at the first location may see the performer while the tip is being dispensed. The tipping device may include a spotlight or flashing lights for highlighting the patron during dispensing of the tip.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
TAXES, THE OLD-FASHION WAY
Tax season is here and that means a host of articles and columns about computerized tax packages, online filing, commercial tax preparers, and the like. What you won’t find is much about the way a sizeable number of taxpayers still prepare tax returns: on their own with pencil, pen, paper forms, and a printed edition of this year’s IRS instruction book. That’s right, in the digital age some folks are still doing taxes the old-fashion, pre-computer way.
What’s wrong with these people? Who are these Neanderthals? Yes, many of them cannot be described as “young.” Their ranks probably contain proportionally fewer facebookers, twitterers, and app addicts than do the ranks of electronic filers. But that does not mean they are computer illiterate. Indeed, some of them are actually pretty good on the keyboard and can click a mean mouse.
Familiarity is one explanation for staying with paper. When you’ve prepared taxes by hand for two, three, four or more decades, the task is not as formidable as it must appear to a newbie. No contesting the fact that the forms and instructions are humongous. But the humongousness didn’t suddenly appear. It’s been a creeping thing, a little more each year. If you were able to get over the hurdle ten or so years ago when the IRS made a major thing of having taxpayers do preliminary calculations on worksheets in the instruction book—for example, the Unrecaptured Section 1250 Gain Worksheet or the (and this one’s a killer) Schedule D Tax Worksheet—you’re probably hooked. You will be doing taxes by hand until the Grim Reaper calls or your children conclude you’ve become too addled for driving a car, feeding yourself, or keeping track of finances.
Another reason for the old-fashion approach is Black Box Fear. What is actually happening inside those computerized tax packages? Why do different packages come up with different, although usually close, bottom lines? Computers certainly have many beneficial aspects. But they have also given us cars that mysteriously accelerate or suddenly lose the ability to stop. And they have given us financial engineers who in turn gave the financial system a brutal knee to the groin. The financial system is still doubled over from that little gift.
So Black Box Fear keeps some taxpayers attached to those tangible forms and instructions. If a calculation produces something odd, at least an individual with a little—or maybe a lot of—patience can work his or her way back through the procedure and the numbers.
There are other reasons for doing taxes oneself. Cheapness—damned if I’m paying money to have my taxes done. Cantankerousness—think you’ve made it too tough for me, eh? Inquisitiveness—how complex has Congress and the IRS made things this year?
Whatever, the reason, a tax underground exists, an underground of cheap masochists fighting a rear-guard action against the advance of the digital age. Form 1040, prepare to meet thy master.
What’s wrong with these people? Who are these Neanderthals? Yes, many of them cannot be described as “young.” Their ranks probably contain proportionally fewer facebookers, twitterers, and app addicts than do the ranks of electronic filers. But that does not mean they are computer illiterate. Indeed, some of them are actually pretty good on the keyboard and can click a mean mouse.
Familiarity is one explanation for staying with paper. When you’ve prepared taxes by hand for two, three, four or more decades, the task is not as formidable as it must appear to a newbie. No contesting the fact that the forms and instructions are humongous. But the humongousness didn’t suddenly appear. It’s been a creeping thing, a little more each year. If you were able to get over the hurdle ten or so years ago when the IRS made a major thing of having taxpayers do preliminary calculations on worksheets in the instruction book—for example, the Unrecaptured Section 1250 Gain Worksheet or the (and this one’s a killer) Schedule D Tax Worksheet—you’re probably hooked. You will be doing taxes by hand until the Grim Reaper calls or your children conclude you’ve become too addled for driving a car, feeding yourself, or keeping track of finances.
Another reason for the old-fashion approach is Black Box Fear. What is actually happening inside those computerized tax packages? Why do different packages come up with different, although usually close, bottom lines? Computers certainly have many beneficial aspects. But they have also given us cars that mysteriously accelerate or suddenly lose the ability to stop. And they have given us financial engineers who in turn gave the financial system a brutal knee to the groin. The financial system is still doubled over from that little gift.
So Black Box Fear keeps some taxpayers attached to those tangible forms and instructions. If a calculation produces something odd, at least an individual with a little—or maybe a lot of—patience can work his or her way back through the procedure and the numbers.
There are other reasons for doing taxes oneself. Cheapness—damned if I’m paying money to have my taxes done. Cantankerousness—think you’ve made it too tough for me, eh? Inquisitiveness—how complex has Congress and the IRS made things this year?
Whatever, the reason, a tax underground exists, an underground of cheap masochists fighting a rear-guard action against the advance of the digital age. Form 1040, prepare to meet thy master.
Monday, March 08, 2010
TOYOTA, RUN-AMUCK FINANCE, AND THE COMPUTER
What do Toyota’s difficulties and the financial debacle of 2007-2009 have in common? Each is a negative consequence of the Information Age, more specifically of the computer. And each serves as a warning about what might lie ahead if humankind does not come to grips with the increasing complexity that the computer is foisting on the world.
The modern car has evolved into a very complicated computer system. Sensors, microprocessors, algorithms, as much as 100 million lines of computer code—this isn’t the mechanical machine of thirty or forty years ago, something maintained with just wrenches, pliers, and screwdrivers. No, the modern car is the province of computer and electrical engineers. And just as the case with other computer systems that have become fundamental to life in the 21st Century, a lot of things can go wrong, unexpected things difficult to isolate and identify.
Of course, simple physical problems are one explanation for the difficulties drivers have encountered with Toyota vehicles. Sticky pedals and interfering floor mats do not require an engineering or computer science degree to comprehend. But other explanations have been advanced. An article in The Washington Post on February 20, 2010, (“Suspicions Linger Over Acceleration in Camrys”) noted that one study found the portion of complaints to federal regulators about Toyotas and “speed control” tripled after electronic throttles were introduced in 2002. Electronic throttles are a form of computer system.
The same article highlighted a Camry owner’s manual that cautioned about two-way radio systems affecting the electronic throttle system. And it’s not just Toyota and Camrys. All modern cars are four-wheel mobile computers, some just more buggy than others.
And the connection between the computer and the run-amuck financial system? Can’t the financial difficulties that exploded on the world’s economies in 2007-2009, that in the United States produced the Great Recession, the worst economic downturn since the Great Depression of the 1930s, be explained in traditional economic boom-bust terms? Well, providing mortgages to unqualified borrowers certainly played a role. So did lax supervision, unfocused regulation, greed on Wall Street, greed on Main Street, accounting rules, maybe laissez faire government, maybe over-reaching government, probably some ideological hostility to government oversight in general, and much more.
But at a fundamental level were complex financial assets and strategies that few understood, weird financial insurance products with names like credit default swaps, and a new profession of financial engineering, all made possible by the computer.
Information is both the raw material and the product of the computer—kilobytes, megabytes, gigabytes, terabytes, petabytes and more of information. The ease with which information is now stored, manipulated, and created has been a special benefit to finance, a field that is all about information, information in the form of money. Ultimately, money is nothing more than information: information about supply and demand, information about wants and desires. So a tool—the computer—that produces an endless supply of information was married in the last quarter of the 20th Century to an industry—finance—that uses and, more importantly, creates a particular type of information, that type being money. The result was a money-producing phenomenon for which the world’s economic system, geared toward money as a scarce commodity, was not, and still is not, prepared.
Ponder these statistics. From 1945 to the early 1980s, the relationship between total financial assets in the United States and the nation’s Gross Domestic Product (GDP) was stable. For those years, financial assets ranged between 4 and 5 times GDP. Beginning in the early 1980s, the relationship changed. As a multiple of GDP, financial assets began to increase, reaching over 10 times GDP in 2007. Similarly, between 1945 and the early 1980s, total debt in the United States was fairly stable at approximately 1.5 times GDP. Over the next twenty-five years the multiple more than doubled. In 2007, total U.S. debt was 3.5 times GDP. Stated another way, since the early 1980s the increases in both financial assets and debt have outpaced the growth in GDP.
And the significance of the early 1980s? That is when the Information Age blossomed, when the computer became ubiquitous, when humankind entered a brave new world.
The computer is a powerful tool, perhaps the most powerful tool that has ever been invented. But it is a morally neutral tool. Just because the computer provides a way to do something—accelerate a car, securitize a mortgage—does not mean the result is wholly beneficial. Humankind’s problem is twofold: realizing that this most powerful tool has a negative side, and learning to control that negative side. The words of Albert Einstein in reaction to the first nuclear weapon come to mind: “Everything has changed, save the way we think.”
The modern car has evolved into a very complicated computer system. Sensors, microprocessors, algorithms, as much as 100 million lines of computer code—this isn’t the mechanical machine of thirty or forty years ago, something maintained with just wrenches, pliers, and screwdrivers. No, the modern car is the province of computer and electrical engineers. And just as the case with other computer systems that have become fundamental to life in the 21st Century, a lot of things can go wrong, unexpected things difficult to isolate and identify.
Of course, simple physical problems are one explanation for the difficulties drivers have encountered with Toyota vehicles. Sticky pedals and interfering floor mats do not require an engineering or computer science degree to comprehend. But other explanations have been advanced. An article in The Washington Post on February 20, 2010, (“Suspicions Linger Over Acceleration in Camrys”) noted that one study found the portion of complaints to federal regulators about Toyotas and “speed control” tripled after electronic throttles were introduced in 2002. Electronic throttles are a form of computer system.
The same article highlighted a Camry owner’s manual that cautioned about two-way radio systems affecting the electronic throttle system. And it’s not just Toyota and Camrys. All modern cars are four-wheel mobile computers, some just more buggy than others.
And the connection between the computer and the run-amuck financial system? Can’t the financial difficulties that exploded on the world’s economies in 2007-2009, that in the United States produced the Great Recession, the worst economic downturn since the Great Depression of the 1930s, be explained in traditional economic boom-bust terms? Well, providing mortgages to unqualified borrowers certainly played a role. So did lax supervision, unfocused regulation, greed on Wall Street, greed on Main Street, accounting rules, maybe laissez faire government, maybe over-reaching government, probably some ideological hostility to government oversight in general, and much more.
But at a fundamental level were complex financial assets and strategies that few understood, weird financial insurance products with names like credit default swaps, and a new profession of financial engineering, all made possible by the computer.
Information is both the raw material and the product of the computer—kilobytes, megabytes, gigabytes, terabytes, petabytes and more of information. The ease with which information is now stored, manipulated, and created has been a special benefit to finance, a field that is all about information, information in the form of money. Ultimately, money is nothing more than information: information about supply and demand, information about wants and desires. So a tool—the computer—that produces an endless supply of information was married in the last quarter of the 20th Century to an industry—finance—that uses and, more importantly, creates a particular type of information, that type being money. The result was a money-producing phenomenon for which the world’s economic system, geared toward money as a scarce commodity, was not, and still is not, prepared.
Ponder these statistics. From 1945 to the early 1980s, the relationship between total financial assets in the United States and the nation’s Gross Domestic Product (GDP) was stable. For those years, financial assets ranged between 4 and 5 times GDP. Beginning in the early 1980s, the relationship changed. As a multiple of GDP, financial assets began to increase, reaching over 10 times GDP in 2007. Similarly, between 1945 and the early 1980s, total debt in the United States was fairly stable at approximately 1.5 times GDP. Over the next twenty-five years the multiple more than doubled. In 2007, total U.S. debt was 3.5 times GDP. Stated another way, since the early 1980s the increases in both financial assets and debt have outpaced the growth in GDP.
And the significance of the early 1980s? That is when the Information Age blossomed, when the computer became ubiquitous, when humankind entered a brave new world.
The computer is a powerful tool, perhaps the most powerful tool that has ever been invented. But it is a morally neutral tool. Just because the computer provides a way to do something—accelerate a car, securitize a mortgage—does not mean the result is wholly beneficial. Humankind’s problem is twofold: realizing that this most powerful tool has a negative side, and learning to control that negative side. The words of Albert Einstein in reaction to the first nuclear weapon come to mind: “Everything has changed, save the way we think.”
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
SARAH'S CRIB NOTES
The last time Cranky saw someone do such an obvious job of checking the crib notes on her hand was back in high school, many decades ago. Even the teacher—a nun actually; it was a Catholic school to which the young Cranky, who was not a Catholic, had been banished to get straightened out; didn’t work—saw the infraction. The teacher just rolled her eyes. The school year was almost over, the class had been a trying time for both teacher and students, and no amount of unauthorized help was going to improve the abysmal record of the crib-noter.
What was wrong with Sarah’s crib notes? Few are the politicians who don’t need a little help: teleprompters, note cards, written speeches. So help itself wasn’t the problem. It was just the medium by which it was delivered. The palm of the hand in the Information Age? It was a throwback to a simpler time, a bit of nostalgia in a world of blackberries, ipods, and gadgets run amuck.
So here’s to Sarah Barracuda for reminding us of days long ago, of nuns in full habit, of pretty girls bending the rules, of boys wondering what other rules the girls might bend. And as for claiming to see Russia from her house, writing words on your hand is one thing; drawing a map is quite something else. Wonder what she got in geography?
What was wrong with Sarah’s crib notes? Few are the politicians who don’t need a little help: teleprompters, note cards, written speeches. So help itself wasn’t the problem. It was just the medium by which it was delivered. The palm of the hand in the Information Age? It was a throwback to a simpler time, a bit of nostalgia in a world of blackberries, ipods, and gadgets run amuck.
So here’s to Sarah Barracuda for reminding us of days long ago, of nuns in full habit, of pretty girls bending the rules, of boys wondering what other rules the girls might bend. And as for claiming to see Russia from her house, writing words on your hand is one thing; drawing a map is quite something else. Wonder what she got in geography?
Saturday, January 30, 2010
BALTIMORE MOMENT
Did you catch it? It didn’t last long, maybe an hour or so. And it will likely turn out to be an aberration, just a blip in the meandering morass that has been political discourse in the Nation for the last half century.
Still, maybe, just maybe, it could be the beginning of something, . . .just maybe.
On January 29, 2010, the President of the United States appeared before a gathering in Baltimore, Maryland. The gathering was of members of the House of Representatives from the opposition party. That’s right, members of the Congress of the United States, Republican members. He appeared without teleprompter, without a prepared script, without the accouterments that have become barriers between the Nation’s presidents and the Nation.
He was asked hard, contentious questions. He responded not with sound bites but with facts, arguments, and logic. His facts, arguments, and logic were certainly not accepted by all, either in the room or watching on television. But they were an attempt at communication with political opponents, an attempt to find common ground, an attempt to rouse the Nation from the polarized stupor into which it had sunk.
The stupor was a product of the Information Age, or maybe more narrowly, the Television Age. The Television Age had not improved the public discussion of issues as some had predicted in the early years. Rather, by extracting a high penalty for statements indicating uncertainty, for statements not in conformity with one or another group’s accepted wisdom, for statements containing even the smallest of errors, the Television Age had stifled real exchanges of views. Political practitioners had retreated to the safety of broad blandness.
On January 29, 2010, before a hostile audience, the President of the United States admitted error about himself and his supporters, pointed out errors of his opponents, argued policies and programs on a factual rather than an adversarial basis, and acknowledged the uncertainty surrounding many public policy issues. In short, he treated his audience and the people of the Nation as intelligent, thinking, rational individuals. Maybe, just maybe, . . . .
Still, maybe, just maybe, it could be the beginning of something, . . .just maybe.
On January 29, 2010, the President of the United States appeared before a gathering in Baltimore, Maryland. The gathering was of members of the House of Representatives from the opposition party. That’s right, members of the Congress of the United States, Republican members. He appeared without teleprompter, without a prepared script, without the accouterments that have become barriers between the Nation’s presidents and the Nation.
He was asked hard, contentious questions. He responded not with sound bites but with facts, arguments, and logic. His facts, arguments, and logic were certainly not accepted by all, either in the room or watching on television. But they were an attempt at communication with political opponents, an attempt to find common ground, an attempt to rouse the Nation from the polarized stupor into which it had sunk.
The stupor was a product of the Information Age, or maybe more narrowly, the Television Age. The Television Age had not improved the public discussion of issues as some had predicted in the early years. Rather, by extracting a high penalty for statements indicating uncertainty, for statements not in conformity with one or another group’s accepted wisdom, for statements containing even the smallest of errors, the Television Age had stifled real exchanges of views. Political practitioners had retreated to the safety of broad blandness.
On January 29, 2010, before a hostile audience, the President of the United States admitted error about himself and his supporters, pointed out errors of his opponents, argued policies and programs on a factual rather than an adversarial basis, and acknowledged the uncertainty surrounding many public policy issues. In short, he treated his audience and the people of the Nation as intelligent, thinking, rational individuals. Maybe, just maybe, . . . .
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