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:
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, . . . .
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
WOLF HUNT
Cranky's daughter and son-in-law are currently residing in Mongolia. Here is a recent communication from the son-in-law.
To some, hunting is a part of life. To others, it is life. For me, I enjoy taking a week off from work or school every fall for a little jaunt in the woods and mountains. The usual excursion is for Mule Deer in central Idaho where the temperature at that time of year rarely falls below 20º Fahrenheit at night and is about 40º during the day. Every year in early October my hunting buddies and I pack two or three trailers with tents, ATVs, and weapons and head up the mountains to an elevation of about 6700 feet. Our back-up heating system is rum.
So when I joined my wife, who is Cranky’s daughter, in Mongolia last month, I brought along a hobby. One of my priorities was to find a way to participate in that hobby almost six thousand miles from Idaho. And in less than a month I found me a hunting partner. He is a local surgeon whose wife works with my wife. He is Mongolian and an avid hunter. You know he has to be alright when his favorite hunting store is Cabela’s. It did not take long for me to convince him that I was a Great American Hunter. He invited me to go along with him and a few other buddies on a day-long Mongolian wolf hunt.
We set out at 0800 hours on the first Saturday in December. It was my host, me, and two of his buddies. I made sure I had everything I would need in my day pack. Dehydrated bananas and pineapple that my mother-in-law had sent, my shooting sticks, which unfold to stick in the ground and make a bipod to shoot from, binoculars, camera, GPS, hand warmers, water, and most important, a roll of extra soft toilet paper. The thermometer stood at -7º Fahrenheit outside. I was hoping my thick wool socks, 800-gram insulated hunting boots, long johns, hunting pants, under shirt, long johns top, long sleeved shirt with turtle neck, grey hooded sweatshirt, insulated vest, big insulated hunting coat, gloves, stocking cap, and fleece face mask would keep me warm in the sub zero temperatures. If nothing else, I sweated just getting dressed.
On our way out of Ulaanbaatar in my host’s Toyota Land Cruiser, we stopped at a local market for the essentials. We got water, bread, gum, cookies, and vodka, and resumed the journey. We made another short stop to rendezvous with other members of the group. Getting out of UB required a meandering course through a maze of gers, the local dwellings. I was truly confused by the time we got to the open road.
With the temps rising, but not past 15º degrees, and sunny I figured I would be okay warmth-wise. We started up the surrounding mountains and stopped at the top of one, at a pile of rocks with blue fabric tied to sticks jammed in the rocks. This was a prayer spot. All hunters piled out of the vehicles, and I was able to get a count. There were fourteen men: ten Mongolians, three Chinese, and one Idahoan. The first bottle of vodka came out. I was expecting us to pass the bottle around and finish it off before continuing on. But the man with the bottle got a cup and filled it about a fourth full. He passed the cup to one of the others, who dipped in his ring finger, pulled it out, and flicked drops of vodka to his right and left. He then took just a sip and passed the cup back to the gentleman who was pouring. The cup was refilled a fourth of the way and passed to the next hunter, who performed the same ritual. And so it went for all those present, including me. My host talked me through taking a sip and passing the cup back. The purpose of the ceremony was to bring good luck and safety to the hunt.
The prayer meeting over, we drove until we came to the ger of the leader of the Mongolian nomads in a valley. He had arranged with one of the hunters for the group to thin out the wolves that had been killing about one hundred sheep and cows a week.
After collecting a few of the local nomads (calling them local because they were in the valley at this time), we had the complete hunting party. A shot of vodka all around, and we were ready to start. The fourteen hunters were spread out in a line in the open along the base of a mountain. My host’s brother loaded up the five locals and took them to the other side of the mountain. We were all armed. I had one of my host’s rifles, a Czech made .308. Others had Russian made AKs and SKSs. The locals had 12-gauge single shot shotguns, and sticks. Their job was to walk up the far side of the mountain and down our side to flush out the wolves.
I had thus far stayed warm. But an hour and a half of sitting in the snow changed that. I could feel the moisture penetrating my clothes as I waited. I froze my posterior. Then, excitement! As the locals made their way down our side I spotted the first wolf. It came out into the open and bolted. My adrenaline shot up but drastically dropped when I saw I didn’t have a shot because a couple of gers were behind the wild dog. Later, a second wolf ran across the same spot. That was the final wolf of the day. With no shot and me with a wet frozen rear end, we made our way back to meet up with the group and exchanged stories. A total of seven wolves had been seen. Three shots had been fired but all were misses. I felt a little better about not getting a shot off.
We had time for one more chance at a different location. After the required vodka shot, we set out. The hunters set up, the locals flushed. The second spot where I waited was on a hillside opposite where the locals were flushing. I shared the hillside with a number of cows and goats. But no wolves. We soon got the signal to end the hunt.
Now came the part that distinguished this hunt from my Idaho experiences. We met at the ger of the local leader, who provided hot drinks and a huge feast. I had trouble with the milk tea, only downing about a fourth of it. Huge pots of boiled meat appeared. I could tell by looking in the pots that no part of the animal had been wasted. My host informed me that the menu was horse, which was sometimes eaten in the cold months because of its fat content. Although my grandpa had been a butcher and way back when had prepared a few horses for human consumption, I don’t believe I had ever had the pleasure. Even in Idaho, horse is not commonly found on the dinner table.
Knives were set out for us to take turns cutting bite-size pieces to eat. I was cutting off pieces small enough to swallow whole. Now, I am one to try just about anything once, but when I hear in my head “A horse is a horse of course of course…” (Theme song from Mr. Ed) I have problems. My host sensed that I was being bashful and cut a huge chunk of Mongolian sausage. A thing to understand is that the nomads do not process meat as is done in, say, Idaho. In other words, even an exotic weenie party in the States might not be exotic enough to include true Mongolian sausage. But in four bites I did a job on the intestine filled with horse meat, only to have my host give me an even chewier part to try. I was having trouble stomaching the stomach. But I did handle the final rounds of vodka with no difficulty.
I learned three things on my first Mongolian hunt:
1. It takes about 1 hour and 20 minutes to go 20.3 miles from UB (according to my GPS).
2. Mongolia is cold.
3. A horse is a horse of course…unless boiled then a horse is a meal.
Thursday, December 03, 2009
HOW THEY HANGIN'?
Are you one of those computer know-it-alls who actually have a handle on shortcuts such as F9 and Control Z? If so, do you keep that knowledge to yourself? Because if you don’t, if you are prone to freely and frequently give gratuitous advice about hitting F something-or-other or Control this-or-that, you are a member of a most obnoxious group. Especially if you do so in a condescending manner, which you probably do.
Yes, the computer has created a stratification of society and culture. There are so many things to know about the blinking, grinding monster. If your approach to the creature is to know only what you need to know to get by, then you are likely in frequent collision with those who view even the simplest word processing effort as a competitive endeavor, as an opportunity to play one-upmanship. “Just hit Control F,” with an unstated but implied “Dummy” hanging in the air.
Cranky is part of the generation that grew up without computers but in adulthood had them become an integral part of home and workplace. A few of Cranky’s generation have had trouble adapting. Many others have taken to the technology—not just basic computers but also all the offspring gadgets—with alacrity. Cranky believes that he has become fairly fluent in computerize, but it’s still a second language.
In fact, second language is a good analogy. Someone who grows up in one language and learns a second as an adult very often remains just a tad off beat with the second. Maybe they think partly in the first language and need to do a little mental translating from time to time. Maybe they are not completely comfortable with slang, with quaint idioms, with unusual juxtapositions of words.
Cranky remembers a co-worker from job long ago in a place outside the continental United Sates. A popular greeting among young American males at the time was, “How they hangin’?” Well, this greeting fascinated the co-worker, whose name was John and for whom English was a second language. John’s English was very good, but it was not his native tongue. As much as he tried, John just could not capture the cadence of this new greeting. “Hey Gene, How...Are...They...Hanging?” he would ask, pronouncing each word slowly, properly, and emphatically. He realized his effort did not sound natural, which only spurred him to new efforts of precision.
Computerize to Cranky is like English was to John. Most of the time, Cranky can get the job done. A member of a younger generation, however, one that has been enveloped in the Information Age since birth, probably can recognize that Cranky’s facility with computerize is sometimes a little off-rhythm. And if something like computer shortcuts are thrown at Cranky—the F9s and the Control Zs—it’s, well, it’s like “Hey Gene, How...Are...They...Hanging?”
Yes, the computer has created a stratification of society and culture. There are so many things to know about the blinking, grinding monster. If your approach to the creature is to know only what you need to know to get by, then you are likely in frequent collision with those who view even the simplest word processing effort as a competitive endeavor, as an opportunity to play one-upmanship. “Just hit Control F,” with an unstated but implied “Dummy” hanging in the air.
Cranky is part of the generation that grew up without computers but in adulthood had them become an integral part of home and workplace. A few of Cranky’s generation have had trouble adapting. Many others have taken to the technology—not just basic computers but also all the offspring gadgets—with alacrity. Cranky believes that he has become fairly fluent in computerize, but it’s still a second language.
In fact, second language is a good analogy. Someone who grows up in one language and learns a second as an adult very often remains just a tad off beat with the second. Maybe they think partly in the first language and need to do a little mental translating from time to time. Maybe they are not completely comfortable with slang, with quaint idioms, with unusual juxtapositions of words.
Cranky remembers a co-worker from job long ago in a place outside the continental United Sates. A popular greeting among young American males at the time was, “How they hangin’?” Well, this greeting fascinated the co-worker, whose name was John and for whom English was a second language. John’s English was very good, but it was not his native tongue. As much as he tried, John just could not capture the cadence of this new greeting. “Hey Gene, How...Are...They...Hanging?” he would ask, pronouncing each word slowly, properly, and emphatically. He realized his effort did not sound natural, which only spurred him to new efforts of precision.
Computerize to Cranky is like English was to John. Most of the time, Cranky can get the job done. A member of a younger generation, however, one that has been enveloped in the Information Age since birth, probably can recognize that Cranky’s facility with computerize is sometimes a little off-rhythm. And if something like computer shortcuts are thrown at Cranky—the F9s and the Control Zs—it’s, well, it’s like “Hey Gene, How...Are...They...Hanging?”
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
UB HELP DESK
Cranky recently had a computer problem that required a consultation with a help desk. While at work one day, Cranky wrote a short paper that he forwarded by email to his home email account for later revision. The problem was that the paper was composed in Microsoft Vista on Word 2007, which made it a .docx thingy. Cranky’s home computer uses the ancient Word 2003, or just the .doc thingy.
So when he tried to open the paper the next day at home, all Cranky got were paragraphs of little squares with occasional round things and other oddities. Having experienced this problem a number of times, Cranky quickly realized what was wrong. But correcting it was no easy matter. Perhaps some computer guru has a better solution, but all Cranky knows is that the original .docx has to be saved as a just plain .doc, and this requires a computer that has Word 2007.
The only immediately accessible computer Cranky knew of that had Word 2007 belonged to Cranky’s daughter. So he forwarded the .docx paper to her by email. And because he was anxious to have the paper right away, he gave his daughter a call.
“Hey, I just sent you a paper in .docx that I need converted to .doc and sent back to me.”
“Dad! It’s midnight here! I’m asleep and have to go to work at O Dark Thirty!”
“Hey, I’m sorry. I forgot about the time difference. But maybe as long as you’re awake, could you just convert it and send it back?”
“Look, I’ll do it this time, but don’t pull this again. I’m not your own personal Help Desk. I’ve got a job, you know.”
“I’m really sorry. But thanks for doing your ol’ man a favor. How’s my son-in-law Steven doing?”
“He’s asleep too. Now let me do this and get back to bed.”
“Okay. And I’ll try to keep the time difference in mind.”
“Yeah, right.”
So a few minutes later, Cranky got his .docx paper in proper .doc form. Take that, Bill Gates. Modern technology is amazing.
Incidentally, Cranky’s daughter resides in Ulaanbaatar, called UB by the expatriates. UB is the capital of Mongolia, which is somewheres north of China and south of Siberia.
[In the interests of full disclosure, and honestry, Cranky needs to admit that the preceding tale is only partly true. It's true that Cranky sent a .docx paper to the far side of the planet for conversion by his daughter to .doc. But the phone call was a bit of fiction, added for plot development purposes. You can, however, phone UB anytime you want. Small world, eh?]
So when he tried to open the paper the next day at home, all Cranky got were paragraphs of little squares with occasional round things and other oddities. Having experienced this problem a number of times, Cranky quickly realized what was wrong. But correcting it was no easy matter. Perhaps some computer guru has a better solution, but all Cranky knows is that the original .docx has to be saved as a just plain .doc, and this requires a computer that has Word 2007.
The only immediately accessible computer Cranky knew of that had Word 2007 belonged to Cranky’s daughter. So he forwarded the .docx paper to her by email. And because he was anxious to have the paper right away, he gave his daughter a call.
“Hey, I just sent you a paper in .docx that I need converted to .doc and sent back to me.”
“Dad! It’s midnight here! I’m asleep and have to go to work at O Dark Thirty!”
“Hey, I’m sorry. I forgot about the time difference. But maybe as long as you’re awake, could you just convert it and send it back?”
“Look, I’ll do it this time, but don’t pull this again. I’m not your own personal Help Desk. I’ve got a job, you know.”
“I’m really sorry. But thanks for doing your ol’ man a favor. How’s my son-in-law Steven doing?”
“He’s asleep too. Now let me do this and get back to bed.”
“Okay. And I’ll try to keep the time difference in mind.”
“Yeah, right.”
So a few minutes later, Cranky got his .docx paper in proper .doc form. Take that, Bill Gates. Modern technology is amazing.
Incidentally, Cranky’s daughter resides in Ulaanbaatar, called UB by the expatriates. UB is the capital of Mongolia, which is somewheres north of China and south of Siberia.
[In the interests of full disclosure, and honestry, Cranky needs to admit that the preceding tale is only partly true. It's true that Cranky sent a .docx paper to the far side of the planet for conversion by his daughter to .doc. But the phone call was a bit of fiction, added for plot development purposes. You can, however, phone UB anytime you want. Small world, eh?]
Sunday, November 15, 2009
FACEBOOKING
Recently, Cranky was a member of a small group on a work project. The group had five members. One was old. That was Cranky. The other four were in their late twenties or early to mid thirties. So Cranky was the odd man out in several ways, one of them being that he was the only non-Facebooker in the crowd.
Now, Cranky is not ignorant of technological developments. He knows there is such a thing as Facebook. He has heard about, and actually seen people engage in, twittering. But an occasion blog has been as far as Cranky’s participation in 21st Century stuff has gone.
One day a member of Cranky’s group, a young woman, let out with an “Uh oh.” One of the others asked the problem. The problem was that the boyfriend of a female friend of the young woman had posted an intriguing photo on his Facebook page. In the photo, the young woman’s friend was reclining, and smiling. Her top was pulled up well above her midriff. And the boyfriend’s head was embedded in the location where her torso joined her legs.
On her own Facebook, the young woman’s friend also had a photo of herself and the boyfriend. The two were standing beside each other, chastely holding hands, and looking into the camera.
The situation produced considerable discussion. Was a question of etiquette involved? Or of ethics? Or something else. Not having much experience in Facebooking, Cranky mostly listened.
But something about this Facebooking thing appealed to him. That night at home he broached the subject with the Mrs. “I think I would like to Facebook.”
The Mrs. looked skeptical. Cranky went on. “Yes, Facebook. And I saw this neat picture today that I would like to have on my Facebook. It would be the two of us.”
Not getting a response, Cranky described the picture.
“Are you out of your freakin’ mind!?”
“But Sweatheart, it would be fun. And who knows, it might bring back fond memories.”
“I’ll fond memories you, you idiot!” At which point she whacked Cranky with her cane; she has bad arthritis.
Fortunately, Cranky had not told his young co-workers of his Facebook plan. Consequently, the plan’s demise did not result in any loss of face.
Now, Cranky is not ignorant of technological developments. He knows there is such a thing as Facebook. He has heard about, and actually seen people engage in, twittering. But an occasion blog has been as far as Cranky’s participation in 21st Century stuff has gone.
One day a member of Cranky’s group, a young woman, let out with an “Uh oh.” One of the others asked the problem. The problem was that the boyfriend of a female friend of the young woman had posted an intriguing photo on his Facebook page. In the photo, the young woman’s friend was reclining, and smiling. Her top was pulled up well above her midriff. And the boyfriend’s head was embedded in the location where her torso joined her legs.
On her own Facebook, the young woman’s friend also had a photo of herself and the boyfriend. The two were standing beside each other, chastely holding hands, and looking into the camera.
The situation produced considerable discussion. Was a question of etiquette involved? Or of ethics? Or something else. Not having much experience in Facebooking, Cranky mostly listened.
But something about this Facebooking thing appealed to him. That night at home he broached the subject with the Mrs. “I think I would like to Facebook.”
The Mrs. looked skeptical. Cranky went on. “Yes, Facebook. And I saw this neat picture today that I would like to have on my Facebook. It would be the two of us.”
Not getting a response, Cranky described the picture.
“Are you out of your freakin’ mind!?”
“But Sweatheart, it would be fun. And who knows, it might bring back fond memories.”
“I’ll fond memories you, you idiot!” At which point she whacked Cranky with her cane; she has bad arthritis.
Fortunately, Cranky had not told his young co-workers of his Facebook plan. Consequently, the plan’s demise did not result in any loss of face.
Friday, October 23, 2009
WALL STREET COMPENSATION
In the current controversy over compensation for Wall Streeters and the Obama Administration’s efforts to curtail the greed somewhat, one thing is puzzling. How does Wall Street have what appears to be excess money when Main Street is hurting?
Here’s one possible answer: Wall Street has the ability to create money, not just manipulate it, reroute it, hoard it, but to actually create it. And this is something new, at least to the extent it has been done for the last few years.
How can Wall Street create money? The computer. One consequence of the Information Age, a consequence that is little realized, is that the financial system is no longer just a lubricant for economic activity involving tangible things. The financial system and its intangible products have become ends in themselves, not just means to permit the “real” economy to function.
The Information Age is about the dominance of information, and an important form of information is money. How is money a form of information? Stripped to its essence, money is just information about supply and demand. Money has provided this information since bartering receded as the major way goods exchanged hands.
But the computer and the Information Age have provided those with the capability—the Wall Streeters of the world—to create information, and thus create money. Some might say that creation is too strong a term, that information can’t be created because it was already there, just not recognizable. Okay, but the difference between creating information and recognizing previously unrecognizable information is a minor point. Much more important is that the computer has resulted in a tsunami of information with which those with the training can do extraordinary things.
Wall Street’s creation of money takes two complementary, and often overlapping, forms: securitization and derivatives. In securitization, individual loans such as mortgages are combined, through legal paperwork, into a single financial asset. Some of the interests in the financial asset are sold to investors. But some of the interests may be combined with interests in other financial assets to create what might be called a second layer financial asset. This layering process can be repeated. The effect of the layering process is to expand the total amount of financial assets in existence. Since financial assets are in essence money, the effect of financial asset layering is to create money.
Derivatives are financial instruments whose values depend on the values of other financial instruments. Futures and options are common types of derivatives. Much more exotic derivatives, such as credit default swaps, have appeared in recent years. Just as securitization results in more financial assets and thus more money, the creation of derivatives results in more assets and consequently more money.
What does the computer have to do with securitization and derivatives? The manipulation of data and the mathematical calculations that are required in securitization and the creation of derivatives would be pretty close to impossible without the processing and computational powers of the computer.
The arrival of the Information Age can be dated to the very late 1970s and early 1980s, a period when the computer started its conquest of just about everything. Those years also saw the start of a growth period for financial assets in relation to the rest of the economy. 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, ranging 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. (Data is from the Federal Reserve’s Flow of Funds.)
In the same period, a shift also occurred among holders of financial assets. The nation’s financial sector increased its share of financial assets from between 30 and 35 percent to between 40 and 45 percent. In other words, as financial assets were growing faster than GDP, a larger share of the financial assets was falling into the hands of the financial sector.
Okay, so the financial sector of the economy has become proportionately larger and a likely cause of the growth has been the computer. So what? The so what is the volatile nature of finance, a volatility very much evident over the last couple of years. The money created by financial sector is fuzzy money, easily evaporated if conditions turn mildly arid.
The so what is also the quandary about how to get a handle on the economics of the Information Age, to understand this unknown. A few years ago, those trying to explain changes talked about new paradigms. Well, a new paradigm seems called for. Reform proposals for the financial system are being put forth, but most seem to deal with peripheral matters: oversight structure, regulatory authority, and the like. The core issue is the change the computer has brought to the financial, and ultimately the economic, system. Some examination of the fundamentals is called for. Otherwise, the events of the last couple of years might just be a prelude.
Here’s one possible answer: Wall Street has the ability to create money, not just manipulate it, reroute it, hoard it, but to actually create it. And this is something new, at least to the extent it has been done for the last few years.
How can Wall Street create money? The computer. One consequence of the Information Age, a consequence that is little realized, is that the financial system is no longer just a lubricant for economic activity involving tangible things. The financial system and its intangible products have become ends in themselves, not just means to permit the “real” economy to function.
The Information Age is about the dominance of information, and an important form of information is money. How is money a form of information? Stripped to its essence, money is just information about supply and demand. Money has provided this information since bartering receded as the major way goods exchanged hands.
But the computer and the Information Age have provided those with the capability—the Wall Streeters of the world—to create information, and thus create money. Some might say that creation is too strong a term, that information can’t be created because it was already there, just not recognizable. Okay, but the difference between creating information and recognizing previously unrecognizable information is a minor point. Much more important is that the computer has resulted in a tsunami of information with which those with the training can do extraordinary things.
Wall Street’s creation of money takes two complementary, and often overlapping, forms: securitization and derivatives. In securitization, individual loans such as mortgages are combined, through legal paperwork, into a single financial asset. Some of the interests in the financial asset are sold to investors. But some of the interests may be combined with interests in other financial assets to create what might be called a second layer financial asset. This layering process can be repeated. The effect of the layering process is to expand the total amount of financial assets in existence. Since financial assets are in essence money, the effect of financial asset layering is to create money.
Derivatives are financial instruments whose values depend on the values of other financial instruments. Futures and options are common types of derivatives. Much more exotic derivatives, such as credit default swaps, have appeared in recent years. Just as securitization results in more financial assets and thus more money, the creation of derivatives results in more assets and consequently more money.
What does the computer have to do with securitization and derivatives? The manipulation of data and the mathematical calculations that are required in securitization and the creation of derivatives would be pretty close to impossible without the processing and computational powers of the computer.
The arrival of the Information Age can be dated to the very late 1970s and early 1980s, a period when the computer started its conquest of just about everything. Those years also saw the start of a growth period for financial assets in relation to the rest of the economy. 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, ranging 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. (Data is from the Federal Reserve’s Flow of Funds.)
In the same period, a shift also occurred among holders of financial assets. The nation’s financial sector increased its share of financial assets from between 30 and 35 percent to between 40 and 45 percent. In other words, as financial assets were growing faster than GDP, a larger share of the financial assets was falling into the hands of the financial sector.
Okay, so the financial sector of the economy has become proportionately larger and a likely cause of the growth has been the computer. So what? The so what is the volatile nature of finance, a volatility very much evident over the last couple of years. The money created by financial sector is fuzzy money, easily evaporated if conditions turn mildly arid.
The so what is also the quandary about how to get a handle on the economics of the Information Age, to understand this unknown. A few years ago, those trying to explain changes talked about new paradigms. Well, a new paradigm seems called for. Reform proposals for the financial system are being put forth, but most seem to deal with peripheral matters: oversight structure, regulatory authority, and the like. The core issue is the change the computer has brought to the financial, and ultimately the economic, system. Some examination of the fundamentals is called for. Otherwise, the events of the last couple of years might just be a prelude.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
MONGOLIAN RUN
In an effort to get as far away from dad as possible, cranky’s daughter has taken a job in Mongolia. After going for her first run in her new home, she filed the following report.
WOW its cold out...made sure to bring an ID, little bit of money, apartment key, and of course the little card that says in Mongolian "Please take me to the US Embassy" just in case I managed to get really lost!!
Sidewalks are not that bad to run on, just watch for the unstable manhole covers—or lack thereof—and random bumps, stakes, and whatall in the sidewalk. Managed to find a great bakery then managed to track back around the area to get an awesome view of the mountains just south of the city. They look fantastic and are now covered in snow. There’s a great flat white stone statute on the mountainside just outside the city. The statute is of Changis Khan (not Genghis as us westerns call him, learned that pretty quick).
Managed to find a food store and Millie's espresso store, where supposedly you can get boneless skinless chicken breast and ground beef. And it has good sandwiches. Then I found the Choijin Lama Temple. Bummer, it was closed. Turns out it is only a block from the house, kind of neat place, will have to check it out later when it is open.
And finally turned to come home, crossing the street to avoid passing close to two locals relieving themselves on the side of the road (reminded me of you, Dad). Fun times, and not too bad. Will have to venture out again. Pretty quiet in the morning; didn't see any other runners.
WOW its cold out...made sure to bring an ID, little bit of money, apartment key, and of course the little card that says in Mongolian "Please take me to the US Embassy" just in case I managed to get really lost!!
Sidewalks are not that bad to run on, just watch for the unstable manhole covers—or lack thereof—and random bumps, stakes, and whatall in the sidewalk. Managed to find a great bakery then managed to track back around the area to get an awesome view of the mountains just south of the city. They look fantastic and are now covered in snow. There’s a great flat white stone statute on the mountainside just outside the city. The statute is of Changis Khan (not Genghis as us westerns call him, learned that pretty quick).
Managed to find a food store and Millie's espresso store, where supposedly you can get boneless skinless chicken breast and ground beef. And it has good sandwiches. Then I found the Choijin Lama Temple. Bummer, it was closed. Turns out it is only a block from the house, kind of neat place, will have to check it out later when it is open.
And finally turned to come home, crossing the street to avoid passing close to two locals relieving themselves on the side of the road (reminded me of you, Dad). Fun times, and not too bad. Will have to venture out again. Pretty quiet in the morning; didn't see any other runners.
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
THE PROFESSOR-COP THING
That thing with the Harvard professor and the local cop certainly got everyone worked up. Some wanted to concentrate on the racial aspects of the matter. Others, on the class aspects. Still others on the way protectors and protectees should address one another.
Cranky likes the class analyses. In fact, Cranky was once, a long, long time ago in a place far, far away, involved in a number of class-like protector-protectee confrontations. Cranky was a protector, a cop, at least a type of cop. He was Lieutenant Cranky, Military Police Corps, United States Army. The place was Saigon, Republic of Vietnam. You older readers might remember it. You youngsters, well it was several wars ago.
Saigon of the 1960s was not like Baghdad of the last six years. Yes, there was a war on, and Saigon had its share of terrorist incidents, including bombings of U.S. facilities (the American Embassy was bombed at least twice, not counting being subject to a ground attack during Tet in 1968). But U.S. military personnel in the Saigon area were not confined to anything like Baghdad’s Green Zone. They lived and worked in buildings and compounds throughout the city. And they played—bars and brothels were ubiquitous. So Saigon MPs--when they weren't off duty and frequenting the local establishments themselves--had both war and police responsibilities. One call over the radio might be to investigate a suspicious package or possible sniper fire. The next might be to get an overly inebriated U.S. soldier under control.
Most of those transgressing soldiers were the military’s version of lower and middle classes: Enlisted Men (this was before women were allowed to go to war) and junior Officers, such as LT Cranky was. But every now and then, a member of the upper class—senior Officers—played a bit too hard and needed corralling. And truth be told, young LT Cranky liked nothing better than puttin’ it to a Major, a Colonel, even a General. Colonel Blimp might be a tough, demanding, overbearing tyrant by day, filled to the brim with his own importance. But if he stepped out of line when LT Cranky was the Saigon Duty Officer patrolling the streets, no leeway was granted. Get a little too mouthy and LT Cranky would have him in the slammer, or would file an official report that could have a negative career impact, maybe even be a career-ender.
Some of Cranky’s fellow MP Lieutenants took a more lenient view of transgressing senior Officers. But LT Cranky just loved busting the chops of his betters.
So even though the cop at Harvard might have taken a less confrontational approach, Cranky doesn’t fault his actions. To Cranky, a Harvard professor is like a General. He may be hot stuff, but if he gets too mouthy a reminder that his s**t stinks just like that of us lesser mortals could be just the thing.
Cranky likes the class analyses. In fact, Cranky was once, a long, long time ago in a place far, far away, involved in a number of class-like protector-protectee confrontations. Cranky was a protector, a cop, at least a type of cop. He was Lieutenant Cranky, Military Police Corps, United States Army. The place was Saigon, Republic of Vietnam. You older readers might remember it. You youngsters, well it was several wars ago.
Saigon of the 1960s was not like Baghdad of the last six years. Yes, there was a war on, and Saigon had its share of terrorist incidents, including bombings of U.S. facilities (the American Embassy was bombed at least twice, not counting being subject to a ground attack during Tet in 1968). But U.S. military personnel in the Saigon area were not confined to anything like Baghdad’s Green Zone. They lived and worked in buildings and compounds throughout the city. And they played—bars and brothels were ubiquitous. So Saigon MPs--when they weren't off duty and frequenting the local establishments themselves--had both war and police responsibilities. One call over the radio might be to investigate a suspicious package or possible sniper fire. The next might be to get an overly inebriated U.S. soldier under control.
Most of those transgressing soldiers were the military’s version of lower and middle classes: Enlisted Men (this was before women were allowed to go to war) and junior Officers, such as LT Cranky was. But every now and then, a member of the upper class—senior Officers—played a bit too hard and needed corralling. And truth be told, young LT Cranky liked nothing better than puttin’ it to a Major, a Colonel, even a General. Colonel Blimp might be a tough, demanding, overbearing tyrant by day, filled to the brim with his own importance. But if he stepped out of line when LT Cranky was the Saigon Duty Officer patrolling the streets, no leeway was granted. Get a little too mouthy and LT Cranky would have him in the slammer, or would file an official report that could have a negative career impact, maybe even be a career-ender.
Some of Cranky’s fellow MP Lieutenants took a more lenient view of transgressing senior Officers. But LT Cranky just loved busting the chops of his betters.
So even though the cop at Harvard might have taken a less confrontational approach, Cranky doesn’t fault his actions. To Cranky, a Harvard professor is like a General. He may be hot stuff, but if he gets too mouthy a reminder that his s**t stinks just like that of us lesser mortals could be just the thing.
Friday, July 24, 2009
APPALACHIAN TRAIL
The Appalachian Trail should be closed. It is a threat to the moral fiber of the nation. It presents the nation's youth with temptations most of them are not prepared to resist. Their time is better spent watching reality shows, playing video games, twittering, and becoming obese. If a respected Republican governor can fall prey to the temptations of the Trail, what chance do lesser mortals have?
But, you say, I must seek my soul mate. Soul mate, rat bait, my friend. Yes, there are soul mates to be found on the Trail. But soul mates are the path to eternal damnation. Does the Pope have a soul mate? Not hardly. What's good enough for the leader of Roman Catholicism is good enough for you.
Soul mates are the product of the effete liberal elite. Do Bill O'Reilly, Shawn Hannity, Rush Limbaugh, or Glenn Beck have soul mates? No way. And why not? Because they stay off the Appalachian Trail
So let's remove this threat to our country. How? If each of you sends me $50, I will ensure that the mission is accomplished.
But, you say, I must seek my soul mate. Soul mate, rat bait, my friend. Yes, there are soul mates to be found on the Trail. But soul mates are the path to eternal damnation. Does the Pope have a soul mate? Not hardly. What's good enough for the leader of Roman Catholicism is good enough for you.
Soul mates are the product of the effete liberal elite. Do Bill O'Reilly, Shawn Hannity, Rush Limbaugh, or Glenn Beck have soul mates? No way. And why not? Because they stay off the Appalachian Trail
So let's remove this threat to our country. How? If each of you sends me $50, I will ensure that the mission is accomplished.
Friday, June 05, 2009
JUNE 6, 1944
Found in a scrapbook, a column entitled "Montross, Down Westmoreland Way," in The Potomac Interest, a newspaper published long ago in Colonial Beach, Virginia:
As I write this column on Tuesday, June 6, our ears are filled with the latest news of the invasion coming in on the radio. We have long waited for the news. Now D-Day is here, and our men are engaged in the greatest struggle of all times. Here in Westmoreland County the sun is shining, a soft breeze is blowing, and only the sound of birds and fowls disturbs the peace of a beautiful summer day. Over there, they are fighting fiercely for liberation, so that all men everywhere may enjoy this peace and beauty. Their way will be hard and costly--here our hardship is sit and wait, hope and pray that it will soon be over, and they, our men, will be back again. Our prayers are with them, and we know they will not fail.
Ada Fairfax Stuart
As I write this column on Tuesday, June 6, our ears are filled with the latest news of the invasion coming in on the radio. We have long waited for the news. Now D-Day is here, and our men are engaged in the greatest struggle of all times. Here in Westmoreland County the sun is shining, a soft breeze is blowing, and only the sound of birds and fowls disturbs the peace of a beautiful summer day. Over there, they are fighting fiercely for liberation, so that all men everywhere may enjoy this peace and beauty. Their way will be hard and costly--here our hardship is sit and wait, hope and pray that it will soon be over, and they, our men, will be back again. Our prayers are with them, and we know they will not fail.
Ada Fairfax Stuart
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