Friday, June 08, 2007

Have a quote or two from Randolph Bourne:

Under the Habeas Corpus Act of 1679, any person knowing about a man’s unlawful detention may apply for a writ ordering the jailer to “have at the Royal Courts of Justice the body of” the prisoner.

Whoops! That's a good quote, but it comes from Habeas Corpus to the Rescue, a rather gripping account of the salvation of a Polish defector to Britain in 1956, by Alexander T. Jordan, British journalist. Emphasis mine.

Here's a paragraph of Bourne's The State:
Government is obviously composed of common and unsanctified men, and is thus a legitimate object of criticism and even contempt. If your own party is in power, things may be assumed to be moving safely enough; but if the opposition is in, then clearly all safety and honor have fled the State. Yet you do not put it to yourself in quite that way. What you think is only that there are rascals to be turned out of a very practical machinery of offices and functions which you take for granted. When we say that Americans are lawless, we usually mean that they are less conscious than other peoples of the august majesty of the institution of the State as it stands behind the objective government of men and laws which we see. In a republic the men who hold office are indistinguishable from the mass. Very few of them possess the slightest personal dignity with which they could endow their political role; even if they ever thought of such a thing. And they have no class distinction to give them glamour. In a republic the Government is obeyed grumblingly, because it has no bedazzlements or sanctities to gild it. If you are a good old-fashioned democrat, you rejoice at this fact, you glory in the plainness of a system where every citizen has become a king. If you are more sophisticated you bemoan the passing of dignity and honor from affairs of State. But in practice, the democrat does not in the least treat his elected citizen with the respect due to a king, nor does the sophisticated citizen pay tribute to the dignity even when he finds it. The republican State has almost no trappings to appeal to the common man’s emotions. What it has are of military origin, and in an unmilitary era such as we have passed through since the Civil War, even military trappings have been scarcely seen. In such an era the sense of the State almost fades out of the consciousness of men.

[Bourne died in the flu pandemic of 1918; he starts talking about WWI in the next paragraph.]

Here is the opening salvo of The War and The Intellectuals:
To those of us who still retain an irreconcilable animus against war, it has been a bitter experience to see the unanimity with which the American intellectuals have thrown their support to the use of war-technique in the crisis in which America found herself. Socialists, college professors, publicists, new-republicans, practitioners of literature, have vied with each other in confirming with their intellectual faith the collapse of neutrality and the riveting of the war-mind on a hundred million more of the world's people. And the intellectuals are not content with confirming our belligerent posture. They are now complacently asserting that it was they who effectively willed it, against the hesitation and dim perceptions of the American democratic masses. A war made deliberately by the intellectuals! A calm moral verdict, arrived at after a penetrating study of inexorable facts! Sluggish masses, too remote from the world-conflict to be stirred, too lacking in intellect to perceive their danger! An alert intellectual class, saving the people in spite of themselves, biding their time with Fabian strategy until the nation could be moved into war without serious resistance! An intellectual class, gently guiding a nation through sheer force of ideas into what the other nations entered only through predatory craft or popular hysteria or militarist madness! A war free from any taint of self-seeking, a war that will secure the triumph of democracy and internationalize the world! This is the picture which the more self-conscious intellectuals have formed of themselves, and which they are slowly impressing upon a population which is being led no man knows whither by an indubitably intellectualized President. And they are right, in that the war certainly did not spring from either the ideals or the prejudices, from the national ambitions or hysterias, of the American people, however acquiescent the masses prove to be, and however clearly the intellectuals prove their putative intuition.

And, from A War Diary:
The kind of war which we are conducting is an enterprise which the American government does not have to carry on with the hearty cooperation of the American people but only with their acquiescence. And that acquiescence seems sufficient to float an indefinitely protracted war for vague or even largely uncomprehended and unaccepted purposes. Our resources in men and materials are vast enough to organize the war-technique without enlisting more than a fraction of the people's conscious energy. Many men will not like being sucked into the actual fighting organism, but as the war goes on they will be sucked in as individuals and they will yield. There is likely to be no element in the country with the effective will to help them resist. They are not likely to resist of themselves concertedly. They will be licked grudgingly into military shape, and their lack of enthusiasm will in no way unfit them for use in the hecatombs necessary for the military decision upon which Allied political wisdom still apparently insists. It is unlikely that enough men will be taken from the potentially revolting classes seriously to embitter their spirit. Losses in the well-to-do classes will be sustained by a sense of duty and of reputable sacrifice. From the point of view of the worker, it will make little difference whether his work contributes to annihilation overseas or to construction at home. Temporarily, his condition is better if it contributes to the former. We of the middle classes will be progressively poorer than we should otherwise have been. Our lives will be slowly drained by clumsily levied taxes and the robberies of imperfectly controlled private enterprises. But this will not cause us to revolt. There are not likely to be enough hungry stomachs to make a revolution. The materials seem generally absent from the country, and as long as a government wants to use the war-technique in its realization of great ideas, it can count serenely on the human resources of the country, regardless of popular mandate or understanding.

Oh, I forgot to mention that all these links came from Foundation for Economic Education President Sheldon Richman's article Illiberal Means, Illiberal Ends, now also linked in the title bar here. Read that. And when you've finished that, read the Ralph Raico pdf that he links.

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

V for Vendetta: preliminary notes for a review

Wikipedia article. Actually belies, somewhat, the notion that the Norsefire regime is intended as a direct outgrowth from the Thatcher government.

I prefer Spooner and the early Herbert Spencer to Bakunin. Hell, I prefer Nietzsche and Stirner to Bakunin.

I like what Moore says about the movie, "[The movie] has been "turned into a Bush-era parable by people too timid to set a political satire in their own country.... It's a thwarted and frustrated and largely impotent American liberal fantasy of someone with American liberal values standing up against a state run by neoconservatives—which is not what the comic V for Vendetta was about. It was about fascism, it was about anarchy, it was about England."

I haven't read the graphic novel. I think I will.

Update Mon. 5/21/07: Got it Saturday, read it by 5:00 Sunday - it is illuminating. Moore is right. It seems hard to believe that the movie is actually a milk-toast (must I use a "que"?) version of the story, but, yeah, it does cut out the harder edges of the fascism and anarchism in the movie. And in doing so in the case of the latter, eliminates the need for V's important distinction of the difference between anarchy and chaos.

As I say, I'm not sanguine with the Bakuninist idea that the current society must be destroyed before we can rebuild a better world, but in the case of a totally fascist world, as presented in V, I can see it.

One of the funny ironies is that they show the decapitation of a fascist state. Where have we seen that before? If you're going to be wishy-washy about it, you wind up in Iraq.

The flaw in the Bush invasions, is that the rebuilding has been undertaken using collectivist, centralized control methods. I'd like to think that they were trying not to make the mistakes in privatizing that were made in the former Soviet Union, but simply retaining centralized control of Iraq's resources hasn't proven too efficient either. Any more than it did for the Soviet Union.

Sunday, April 29, 2007

A Moral, by God!

Ooh! I wish I had more hay to make out of a title like that. If you think you can, go to it! Consider it an assignment.

No, I'm just basking in the afterglow of a Donald Hamilton novella published as a serial in Collier's in Dec. 1953-Jan. 54, called "Smoky Valley," which can be downloaded in four parts (pdf) for free here. I hope I'm not causing any trouble for Mr. Martinez by publicizing the fact in my small way here.

The moral may be found in this passage, which I don't think is too much of a spoiler:
He had destroyed a way of life, and he would have to build another in its place. He had no enthusiasm for the task, but he knew that it was his. A man could not meddle with human lives without taking responsibility for the result.

People online like to use "[snip]" to indicate what I'm doing here.
He said, "I know no gentle way of fighting, Miss Wilkison. I tried to make that clear at the start, but no one would lesten. I couldn't risk my men's lives by being choosy in my methods, or in the people I asked for help....

Whoops! A bit too much of a spoiler right here. Back to the moral.
"For the most part, Miss Wilkison," he said, "those are decent people who want no more than to be let alone. I'll have no trouble with them, or they with me, Miss Wilkison."

There's never been a clearer expression of The Cowboy Way.

Donald Hamilton taught me to speak "English, not gobbledygook." If I can convert one person into a fellow fan of his, I would feel that I have repaid him a debt I feel deeply. For instance, it would make me very happy if someone could tell me where that "gobbledygook" quote is from. And, yes, I doubt if Hamilton ever ended a sentence with a preposition. Somebody else taught me that. "The best writers of the English language have been ending sentences with prepositions since time immemorial." I quote that from memory, so it may be a little off. Too bad I don't remember who said that.

Sunday, April 15, 2007

I think I'll lard up a post with pictures.

Not sure if Image Shack with appreciate me at all, but hey!

Here's a hint of the weather a week ago, on Easter:
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Speaking of Easter, what do you make of this?
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I think we're going to have to do some reprogramming.

Anyway, Thursday we get:
Free Image Hosting at www.ImageShack.us

You can't see it, but the little one was holding that umbrella for good reason. It was snowing to beat the band.

Then Friday:
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She wants me to fix the snowman, naturally. We did eventually find enough snow around the yard to stand him upright again, but...

Yesterday (No, that's not the same snowman):
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Today I was out in shorts and a T-shirt sliding down the slide with Lina and teaching Rosie how to throw a football. I didn't bother with the camera though, sorry.

April in Minnesota.

I hear they got the real thing in Kansas yesterday, but we sure didn't. It must have something to do with the elevation there. We're at about 1000 ft here, they're about 4500 ft. It looks flat as a board from here to there. Go figure.

Thursday, April 12, 2007

slug·ging percentage (slŭg'ĭng)

n. Baseball.
A player's total number of bases reached on hits divided by official times at bat, expressed as a three-digit decimal and used as a measure of batting power. Also called slugging average.

I can never keep that in my head.

Wait! Walks are completely excluded? So it's a completely different stat from on base percentage which includes walks and is divided by plate appearances rather than at-bats.

Ho ho! I love baseball!

Friday, April 06, 2007

Poetry that doesn't rhyme!?

What kind of a philistine are you?!

Walt Whitman (1819–1892). Leaves of Grass. 1900.

7. When I read the Book

WHEN I read the book, the biography famous,
And is this, then, (said I,) what the author calls a man’s life?
And so will some one, when I am dead and gone, write my life?
(As if any man really knew aught of my life;
Why, even I myself, I often think, know little or nothing of my real life;
Only a few hints—a few diffused, faint clues and indirections,
I seek, for my own use, to trace out here.)

Oh, go "find" yourself!

Friday, March 30, 2007

People have been begging to know what my favorite song is.

The one I find myself singing or whistling the most often is:
Here Comes The Sun
(George Harrison)

Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
And I say it's all right
Little darlin' it's been a long cold lonely winter
Little darlin' it feels like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
And I say it's all right
Little darlin' the smiles returning to their faces
Little darlin' it seems like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
And I say it's all right
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Little darlin' I feel the ice is slowly meltin'
Little darlin' it seems like years since it's been clear
Here come the sun, here comes the sun
And I say it's all right
Here come the sun, here comes the sun
It's all right, it's all right

©1980 Southern Music/Northern Songs.

From the album "Flaming Schoolgirls"

Oh, whoops! I didn't notice I was on Joan Jett.com. Oh well, I like Joan Jett, too. Not as much as I like George Harrison. Though I'd probably refuse to sleep with George if he asked me to.

Especially these days.

Thursday, March 15, 2007

I'm still reading Brian Doherty's Radicals for Capitalism

The title bar links to it.

It's wonderful to read a summary of everything I've been studying for the past ten years. He treats the major figures of Libertarianism fairly and honestly, dealing in depth with the ideas and personalities of Ludwig von Mises, Friedrich Hayek, Ayn Rand, Murray Rothbard and Milton Friedman and also covers Isabel Paterson, Rose Wilder Lane, Leonard Read, F.A. (Baldy) Harper and a ton of other interesting characters.

When I'm done with this book it'll take a special place on my shelf with Charles Sprading's Liberty and the Great Libertarians [see FEE's review here] and Jim Powell's The Triumph of Liberty, the books that show the growth and development of the ideals of individual freedom from ancient times to today. If I had Gibbon and Macauley and Rothbard's histories, they'd be up their too. (I read Macauley's History of England online, and people I respect push the others.)

Doherty may well be the best writer of the lot, though. He breaks up the heavy going philosophical and economic theory with an occasional, well-chosen anecdote.

Since Omni pushed me into it, I'll share a couple paragraphs from the book. The first describes the "prickliness" of libertarians, but isn't properly an anecdote. The second shows the principle in action (anecdotally).

P. 19:
Like obscenity, libertarianism is something I know when I see, and other libertarians feel the same way. Many a movement libertarian's favorite pastime is reading others out of the movement for various perceived ideological crimes. As Fred Smith, head of the libertarian think tank Competitive Enterprise Institute, says, "When two libertarians find themselves agreeing on something, each knows the other has sold out." Libertarians are a contentious lot, in many cases delighting in staking ground and refusing to move on the farthest frontiers of applying the principles of noncoercion and nonaggression; resolutely finding the most outrageous and obnoxious position you could take that is theoretically compatible with libertarianism and challenging anyone to disagree. If they are not of the movement, then you can enjoy having shocked them with your purism and dedication to principle; if they are of the movement, you can gleefully read them out of it. Libertarians (not all libertarians, certainly, and not even many) have advocated on libertarian principle private ownership of nuclear weapons; the right of parents to starve their children; and that, if you fell off a building and grabbed onto a flagpole and didn't have the explicit permission of the person who owned the balcony, you ought to let yourself fall rather than violate their property rights by crawling to safety.

Actually, I suppose those illustrative vignettes are almost anecdotes. I think that passage of the book is destined to become the most famous.

The anecdote I had in mind to illustrate the claim made above isn't nearly as funny as the passage, so, since I closed the book on it accidently and opened on a better anecdote, I'll give you that one (it doesn't illustrate that point):

P. 255:
The Circle Bastiat boys [Murray Rothbard, Leonard Liggio, Ralph Raico and a couple others in the 1950s] were also pranksters who liked to disrupt other people's realities for their own amusement and occasionally for moments of libertarian Zen wisdom. When talking to young socialists, they enjoyed turning some of the socialists' predictable rhetoric back on them, for example, soberly explaining that socialism might have been all right in the primitive conditions of the eighteenth or nineteenth centuries. But in today's complex, modern machine era, surely they could see that we must have laissez-faire--it's just the irresistable motion of history, the inevitable wave of the future, no point in fighting it.

And they had more of the right of it in saying that, as well.

Doherty puts this breezy facility with words to work (so you don't have to) in his explanations of Rand's epistemology and Austrian economics, and his portrayal of Friedman brought me to read him back into the movement. (See page 300.) I think Doherty's like me, he loves Libertarianism and libertarians (not to mention Liberty), and hates hate; knows that we can't "all just get along," but prefers to present forgivable humans rather than demons to destroy. The real demons are bad policies, not the people who come up with them.

Sunday, March 04, 2007

I just found myself compelled to say one of those

things that could only come out of the mouth of a parent: "No biting the xylophone!"

Go ahead! See if you can work that one into your next conversation! I'll bet you have to cheat.

Want to see my snowbanks?

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And here's a picture I call Bunny and Moomoo:

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Saturday, February 10, 2007

Time Will Run Back, a couple excerpts

"But I'm still bothered, chief, and I'm sure most people are still bothered, by the huge profits made by a few enterprisers. Surely such huge profits aren't necessary in order to get them to produce the right goods!"

"Your trouble, Adams, and the trouble of these people you speak of, is that you and they still persist in looking only at the winners of the biggest prizes. You assume these to be typical; you forget about the offsetting losses of the losers. Let's look at a lottery. Let's say that the man who runs the lottery sells 1,000,000 goldgrams worth of tickets, and hands out 900,000 goldgrams in prizes, keeping 100,000 goldgrams for himself."

"Very reasonable of him," said Adams sarcastically.

"I'm not interested in him for the moment," continued Peter. "I'm talking about the subscribers to the lottery. Collectively they must lose money."

"Collectively they lose 100,000 goldgrams."

"Right, Adams. But each individual who subscribes dismisses this collective result from his mind, if it ever occurs to him. He subscribes precisely because he hopes that he, individually, will be a winner. He is not interested in the fate of the other subscribers. Now if the people outside of the lottery looked only at the winners of the huge prizes and thought these were typical, and forgot about the huge mass of losers, and if they began to talk as if these winnings were made at their - the outsiders' - expense, they would be talking the same way you are talking about profits under our new free enterprise system."

"But aren't these big profits, chief, at the expense of workers?"

"You will usually find, Adams, that the enterprisers who make the biggest profits pay the highest wages. If the profits of the successful enterprisers are at the 'expense' of anybody, I should say that they were mainly at the expense of the unsuccessful enterprisers who made the poor guesses and misdirected labor and capital....And why should you assume that the high profits of the successful enterprisers are any more at the expense of their own workers than at the expense of the owners of their borrowed capital, or of the consumers?"

Adams seemed lost in thought.

...
These two quotes come from different conversations. I felt the need to mention that. BTW, Adams is uncomfortable with calling Peter Uldanov, dictator of Wonworld, by his first name, as but he feels comfortable with "chief." Once you've read the book, you can point out how the previous sentence is inaccurate, but then you'll also know why. Shh.
"...Then it wouldn't be very accurate, chief, to call your new system a 'profit' system?"

"Certainly not in a declining or even in a stationary economy. It is of course, a profit-seeking system. But then I suppose there is a sense in which all of us are seeking 'profit' under any conceivable system. We speak. We speak of spending a 'profitable' evening when we mean merely that we have enjoyed ourselves. We say that reading a book has been 'profitable' when we mean that we have been instructed by it. 'Profitable' action of any sort is merely action that achieves, or partly achieves, the end we are seeking, regardless of whether that end is self-regarding or not.... I can't understand this unpopularity of 'profit' except as envy of the successful. Why should there be any more stigma attached to the word 'profit' than to the word 'wage' or salary'? Why should one form of income be considered less honorable than another? Why should the people who are afraid to take risks begrudge the rewards of those who have taken them successfully?"
...

I mentioned that you can download the book for free from Mises.org, and that I'd tell you how to buy a copy after the excerpts. Actually, I forgot that I can make the title into a link on this blog, so that's what I've done.

I don't suppose the boys would mind if I posted the blurb from the Mises Print on Demand Store:
A novel by Henry Hazlitt, first published in 1951 and revised in 1966. The plot line explores the economic theories of capitalism and socialism. It begins in a fully socialist society in which the new leader begins to rethink the economic basis of the system. Slowly, piece by piece, he dismantles central planning and replaces it with a market system. All the while, the characters engaged in a Socratic-style discussion about the implications of money, exchange, ownership, markets, entrepreneurship, and more. Hazlitt was well equipped to be a fiction writer. He was literary editor of The Nation for 3 years and the successor to H.L. Mencken at the American Mercury. This novel is an excellent introduction to the problems of economic systems, and can be a great benefit to young people who are curious about the meaning of economic analysis. It is, in fact, suitable for all ages.

There was one other bit that I thought was awesome. Let's see if I can find it...

Oh, here! From page 290-1 of the pdf:
"Precisely, Adams. We must absolutely forbid coercive monopoly. Perhaps that was the central evil of state socialism. The state's monopoly of power, and its monopoly of production. But we must do more than fight monopoly and encourage competition. We must draft our laws in such a way as to raise the level of competition. We must so draft them that a man who seeks his personal profit cannot attain that selfish goal except by promoting the public welfare."

"And how are we going to do that?"

"We must forbid him, Adams, to do anything that injures the public welfare. Therefore we must forbid theft, fraud, deceit and all misrepresentation of goods. We must illegalize every form of force violence, extortion, intimidation, coercion. We must compel men to keep their contractual promises, to pay their just obligations and to fulfill their contracts. The corollary to private property is private responsibility. We must not allow a private industry to thrive at the cost of killing or maiming its workers, or injuring consumers of its products, or menacing the public health, or polluting public streams, or polluting the air, or smudging whole communities with the residue of smoke. We must force every industry to pay the costs of the injury it inflicts on the person or property of others."

That's actually the earliest of the excerpts. Perhaps it would be better salesmanship on my part to place that one first. But I'm just too lazy.

Monday, January 29, 2007

How to exorcise a ghost

A taste of The Pickwick Papers:
'What strange things these are you tell us of, Sir,' said Mr. Pickwick, minutely scanning the old man's countenance, by the aid of his glasses.

'Strange!' said the little old man. 'Nonsense; you think them strange, because you know nothing about it. They are funny, but not uncommon.'

'Funny!' exclaimed Mr. Pickwick involuntarily.

'Yes, funny, are they not?' replied the little old man, with a diabolical leer; and then, without pausing for an answer, he continued--

'I knew another man--let me see--forty years ago now--who took an old, damp, rotten set of chambers, in one of the most ancient inns, that had been shut up and empty for years and years before. There were lots of old women's stories about the place, and it certainly was very far from being a cheerful one; but he was poor, and the rooms were cheap, and that would have been quite a sufficient reason for him, if they had been ten times worse than they really were. He was obliged to take some mouldering fixtures that were on the place, and, among the rest, was a great lumbering wooden press for papers, with large glass doors, and a green curtain inside; a pretty useless thing for him, for he had no papers to put in it; and as to his clothes, he carried them about with him, and that wasn't very hard work, either. Well, he had moved in all his furniture--it wasn't quite a truck- full--and had sprinkled it about the room, so as to make the four chairs look as much like a dozen as possible, and was sitting down before the fire at night, drinking the first glass of two gallons of whisky he had ordered on credit, wondering whether it would ever be paid for, and if so, in how many years' time, when his eyes encountered the glass doors of the wooden press. "Ah," says he, "if I hadn't been obliged to take that ugly article at the old broker's valuation, I might have got something comfortable for the money. I'll tell you what it is, old fellow," he said, speaking aloud to the press, having nothing else to speak to, "if it wouldn't cost more to break up your old carcass, than it would ever be worth afterward, I'd have a fire out of you in less than no time." He had hardly spoken the words, when a sound resembling a faint groan, appeared to issue from the interior of the case. It startled him at first, but thinking, on a moment's reflection, that it must be some young fellow in the next chamber, who had been dining out, he put his feet on the fender, and raised the poker to stir the fire. At that moment, the sound was repeated; and one of the glass doors slowly opening, disclosed a pale and emaciated figure in soiled and worn apparel, standing erect in the press. The figure was tall and thin, and the countenance expressive of care and anxiety; but there was something in the hue of the skin, and gaunt and unearthly appearance of the whole form, which no being of this world was ever seen to wear. "Who are you?" said the new tenant, turning very pale; poising the poker in his hand, however, and taking a very decent aim at the countenance of the figure. "Who are you?" "Don't throw that poker at me," replied the form; "if you hurled it with ever so sure an aim, it would pass through me, without resistance, and expend its force on the wood behind. I am a spirit." "And pray, what do you want here?" faltered the tenant. "In this room," replied the apparition, "my worldly ruin was worked, and I and my children beggared. In this press, the papers in a long, long suit, which accumulated for years, were deposited. In this room, when I had died of grief, and long-deferred hope, two wily harpies divided the wealth for which I had contested during a wretched existence, and of which, at last, not one farthing was left for my unhappy descendants. I terrified them from the spot, and since that day have prowled by night--the only period at which I can revisit the earth--about the scenes of my long-protracted misery. This apartment is mine: leave it to me." "If you insist upon making your appearance here," said the tenant, who had had time to collect his presence of mind during this prosy statement of the ghost's, "I shall give up possession with the greatest pleasure; but I should like to ask you one question, if you will allow me." "Say on," said the apparition sternly. "Well," said the tenant, "I don't apply the observation personally to you, because it is equally applicable to most of the ghosts I ever heard of; but it does appear to me somewhat inconsistent, that when you have an opportunity of visiting the fairest spots of earth--for I suppose space is nothing to you-- you should always return exactly to the very places where you have been most miserable." "Egad, that's very true; I never thought of that before," said the ghost. "You see, Sir," pursued the tenant, "this is a very uncomfortable room. From the appearance of that press, I should be disposed to say that it is not wholly free from bugs; and I really think you might find much more comfortable quarters: to say nothing of the climate of London, which is extremely disagreeable." "You are very right, Sir," said the ghost politely, "it never struck me till now; I'll try change of air directly"--and, in fact, he began to vanish as he spoke; his legs, indeed, had quite disappeared. "And if, Sir," said the tenant, calling after him, "if you WOULD have the goodness to suggest to the other ladies and gentlemen who are now engaged in haunting old empty houses, that they might be much more comfortable elsewhere, you will confer a very great benefit on society." "I will," replied the ghost; "we must be dull fellows-- very dull fellows, indeed; I can't imagine how we can have been so stupid." With these words, the spirit disappeared; and what is rather remarkable,' added the old man, with a shrewd look round the table, 'he never came back again.'

'That ain't bad, if it's true,' said the man in the Mosaic studs, lighting a fresh cigar.

Apparently Dickens hated paragraph breaks, but he was a hell of a storyteller anyway. And he provides practical advice, too.

Friday, January 19, 2007

Interesting article

Christianity and Modern Economics, by John B. Clark.

Click the first page link offered, and the "Next Page" button to continue reading.

I believe I'll try to translate these two paragraphs

from Mises' review of Rothbard's Man, Economy and State into non-technical English. Primarily for the benefit of my own understanding, and secondarily for the benefit of anyone else who happens by.

For the casual reader, Word gave me this summary which you might read instead and skip the two 'graphs:
Mathematical equations, says Rothbard, are appropriate and useful where there are constant quantitative relations among unmotivated variables; they are inappropriate in the field of conscious behavior. In a few brilliant lines he demolishes the main device of mathematical economists, viz., the fallacious idea of substituting the concepts of mutual determination and equilibrium for the allegedly outdated concept of cause and effect. The positivist slogan, "science is measurement," in no way refers to the sciences of human action; the claims of "econometrics" are vain.

Let the machine do what it can do, says I.

As long as I'm doing that, I see we've got a Flesch-Kincaid Reading Level of 16.0. I'll try to knock it down to around 10.0.
The mathematical economist attempts to ignore the difference between physical phenomena, on the one hand, the emergence and consummation of which man is unable to see the operation of any final causes and which can be studied scientifically only because there prevails a perceptible regularity in their concatenation and succession, and praxeological phenomena, on the other hand, that lack such a regularity but are conceivable to the human mind as the outcomes of purposeful aiming at definite ends chosen. Mathematical equations, says Rothbard, are appropriate and useful where there are constant quantitative relations among unmotivated variables; they are inappropriate in the field of conscious behavior. In a few brilliant lines he demolishes the main device of mathematical economists, viz., the fallacious idea of substituting the concepts of mutual determination and equilibrium for the allegedly outdated concept of cause and effect. And he shows that the concepts of equilibrium and the evenly rotating economy do not refer to reality; although indispensable for any economic inquiry, they are merely auxiliary mental tools to aid us in the analysis of real action.

The equations of physics describe a process through time, while those of economics do not describe a process at all, but merely the final equilibrium point, a hypothetical situation that is outside of time and will never be reached in reality. Furthermore, they cannot say anything about the path by which the economy moves in the direction of the final equilibrium position. As there are no constant relations between any of the elements which the science of action studies, there is no measurement possible and all numerical data available have merely an historical character; they belong to economic history and not to economics as such. The positivist slogan, "science is measurement," in no way refers to the sciences of human action; the claims of "econometrics" are vain.

The first thing I need to do is chop up these long, Germanic sentences. Then do something about the vocab...

Saturday, January 13, 2007

Philistine Philosophy from Hans-Hermann Hoppe

Actually, it's bourgeois philosophy, but I like the aliteration. Sorry I let this blog sit so long. This is from Hoppe's introduction to Murray Rothbard's The Ethics of Liberty (which is also available online here):
Rothbard sought and found support for his contention regarding the possibility of a rational ethic and the reintegration of ethics and economics based on the notion of private property in the works of the late Scholastics and, in their footsteps, such "modern" natural-rights theorists as Grotius, Pufendorf, and Locke. Building upon their work, in The Ethics of Liberty Rothbard gives the following answer to the question of what I am justified doing here and now: every person owns his own physical body as well as all nature-given goods which he puts to use with the help of his body before anyone else does; this ownership implies his right to employ these resources as one sees fit so long as one does not thereby uninvitedly change the physical integrity of another's property or delimit another's control over it without his consent. In particular, once a good has been first appropriated or homesteaded by "mixing one's labor" with it (Locke's phrase), then ownership of it can only be acquired by means of a voluntary (contractual) transfer of its property title from a previous to a later owner. These rights are absolute. Any infringement on them is subject to lawful prosecution by the victim of this infringement or his agent, and is actionable in accordance with the principles of strict liability and the proportionality of punishment.

It's much later, but if I add this things will be clearer:
Inspired in particular by the nineteenth-century American anarchist political theorists Lysander Spooner and Benjamin Tucker and the Belgian economist Gustave de Molinari, from the outset Rothbard's anarchism took it for granted that there will always be murderers, thieves, thugs, con artists, etc., and that life in society would be impossible if they were not punished by physical force. As a reflection of this fundamental realism — anti-utopianism — of his private-property anarchism, Rothbard, unlike most contemporary political philosophers, accorded central importance to the subject of punishment. For him, private property and the right to physical defense were inseparable. No one can be said to be the owner of something if he is not permitted to defend his property by physical violence against invaders and invasions. "Would," Rothbard asked, "somebody be allowed to 'take the law into his own hands'? Would the victim, or a friend of the victim, be allowed to exact justice personally on the criminal?" and he answered, "of course, Yes, since all rights of punishment derive from the victim's right of self-defense" (p. 90). Hence, the question is not whether or not evil and aggression exist, but how to deal with its existence justly and efficiently, and it is only in the answer to this question that Rothbard reaches conclusions which qualify him as an anarchist.

The classical liberal answer, from the American Declaration of Independence to Mises, was to assign the indispensable task of protecting life, liberty, and property to government as its sole function. Rothbard rejected this conclusion as a non sequitur (if government was defined by its power to tax and ultimate decision-making [territorial monopoly of jurisdiction]). Private-property ownership, as the result of acts of original appropriation, production, or exchange from prior to later owner, implies the owner's right to exclusive jurisdiction regarding his property. In fact, it is the very purpose of private property to establish physically separate domains of exclusive jurisdiction (so as to avoid possible conflicts concerning the use of scarce resources). No private-property owner can possibly surrender his right to ultimate jurisdiction over and physical defense of his property to someone else — unless he sold or otherwise transferred his property (in which case someone else would have exclusive jurisdiction over it).

There have been some things missing from the Classical Liberal answers I've been studying. This book promises to provide them.

But I think I'll have to stop quoting from Mr. Hoppe's brilliant summation, lest I tread upon his copyright. The link is the title bar.

I urge you to read it.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

The Gospel According to Clayton Makepeace

I’m amazed that so many folks have a hard time admitting they like money. I love money. In fact, I believe the guy who first translated I Timothy 6:10 needed glasses: I’m sure it should have read, “The LACK of money is the root of all evil.”

If money is evil, time is evil … freedom is evil … your very life is evil. Because all money is, is a physical manifestation of time.

You’ve got two choices of how to spend each day. You can spend it doing what you want to do, or doing what someone else – a client, for example – wants you to do.

So when you work, you’re selling your scarcest resource: Chunks of your life. You only have so many minutes on this planet and you’ve agreed to trade some of them in return for money.

Now, you can sell your life for peanuts if you want. Me? I’m looking for the highest bidder. That means making sure every minute I spend working brings me the maximum number of simoleans possible.

That lets me provide a great life for my wife, kids and grandkids. It lets me donate to charity. It lets me BUY BACK chunks of my life later on and have the freedom to do whatever I please. It means when I’m 96 years old and pooping in a diaper, I won’t be a burden to anyone.

Awesome! Genius!

Oh, before anybody goes off on me, let me include his next paragraph:
So my goal list has only one item on it: Make more money. So long as I’m not violating a personal ethic, or a law, or a regulation, or hurting someone else, I’m going for the moolah.

Kinda reminds me of "...And the second is like unto it: Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself."

I'm really looking forward to that lightening bolt, aren't I?

I just turned Comment Moderation back on.

I was getting a flood of spam comments. I won't require you to verify that you're real, I'll do that myself. The system will notify me when you've commented so I'll get to it quickly.

Apparently I can't go back and delete those comments, so if anybody needs any Viagra there's a link around here somewhere for you.

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

I just finished reading Little Men to my daughter.

It's definitely bourgeois, but if anyone calls it philistinish, why I'll... I'll... Well, I don't know what.

Actually, I suppose the Avant Garde would call it philistinish. It's the height of Victorian literature.

My daughter could read Alcott's books herself, of course, but I think we get much more out of it this way.

If you want to inculcate good family values in your children, you can't do better than read Luisa May Alcott to them. She does a wonderful job of making old-fashioned morals interesting and entertaining.

This passage, which loses its poignancy by being ripped from its context, almost makes me question Ethical Egoism (though, I assure you, I could reinterpret things to suit my favored system). It's an impromptu eulogy given for a beloved character:
"Let me tell you a little about John Brooke, and you will see why men honor him, and why he was satisfied to be good rather than rich or famous. He simply did his duty in all things, and did it so cheerfully, so faithfully, that it kept him patient and brave, and happy through poverty and loneliness and years of hard work. He was a good son, and gave up his own plans to stay and live with his mother while she needed him. He was a good friend, and taught Laurie much beside his Greek and Latin, did it unconsciously, perhaps, by showing him an example of an upright man. He was a faithful servant, and made himself so valuable to those who employed him that they will find it hard to fill his place. He was a good husband and father, so tender, wise, and thoughtful, that Laurie and I learned much of him, and only knew how well he loved his family, when we discovered all he had done for them, unsuspected and unassisted."

Mr. Bhaer stopped a minute, and the boys sat like statues in the moonlight until he went on again, in a subdued, but earnest voice: "As he lay dying, I said to him, 'Have no care for Meg and the little ones; I will see that they never want.' Then he smiled and pressed my hand, and answered, in his cheerful way, 'No need of that; I have cared for them.' And so he had, for when we looked among his papers, all was in order, not a debt remained; and safely put away was enough to keep Meg comfortable and independent. Then we knew why he had lived so plainly, denied himself so many pleasures, except that of charity, and worked so hard that I fear he shortened his good life. He never asked help for himself, though often for others, but bore his own burden and worked out his own task bravely and quietly. No one can say a word of complaint against him, so just and generous and kind was he; and now, when he is gone, all find so much to love and praise and honor, that I am proud to have been his friend, and would rather leave my children the legacy he leaves his than the largest fortune ever made. Yes! Simple, generous goodness is the best capital to found the business of this life upon. It lasts when fame and money fail, and is the only riches we can take out of this world with us. Remember that, my boys; and if you want to earn respect and confidence and love follow in the footsteps of John Brooke."

This suffers terribly from the lack of context and looks like heavy-handed moralism, but is there anybody who could condemn the way this man led his life? It's definitely the sort of thing I'd tell my kids about a friend in the same situation. I hope not to have to, I know a couple guys who live by their principles to the same degree.

Come to think of it, they're both my brothers-in-law, as Mr. Brooke was to Father Bhaer, the eulogist here.

And I had a hand in fixing both of them up with my sisters. So I have one thing to be proud of, at least. (Though the guy I directly fixed up with the younger sister was quite the diamond-in-the-rough when I did it.)

[I still need to find a guy for the third sister. But I didn't do the first two on purpose, so I can't let that weigh on me or the magic won't work.]

Anyway, Ms. Alcott is every bit as engaging a storyteller as the other authors we've read, L.M. Montgomery, C.S. Lewis, J.K.Rowling [It's the initial thing, must be! We'll have to read J.R.R. Tolkien next.], Rose Wilder Lane and her mother Laura Ingalls Wilder (Roger MacBride has convinced me that Laura didn't do it alone).

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Basic Knowledge of Knowledge

All abstract knowledge of reality begins with our only direct point of contact with reality: perceptual observation. For example, the first concepts formed by a child are those formed directly from perceptual data; they are what philosopher Ayn Rand, the first philosopher to fully identify the hierarchical nature of knowledge, called “first-level concepts.” A child looks out at the world, perceives entities, and integrates his perceptions into these first-level concepts—concepts such as “cat,” “dog,” and “horse.”

Using these first-level concepts, a child is able to form simple generalizations such as “cats meow” or “dogs bark.” From these early concepts and generalizations, and with further observation, he is then able to form more abstract concepts (concepts further removed from the perceptual level) and to make more abstract generalizations. For example, noting the essential similarities between cats, dogs, and horses, he is able to form the concept “animal.” He does not look at the world and see “animals”; he looks and sees cats and dogs and the like—from which observations he is able to form the corresponding first-level concepts. Then, having formed these abstractions, he is able to form the broader abstraction of “animal.” Eventually, having made countless observations, and having grasped a complex range of concepts and relationships on various levels of abstraction, he is able to form generalizations such as: “All animals are mortal.”

A concept or generalization is more or less abstract according to its cognitive distance from the perceptual level. Concepts and generalization exist in a hierarchy, from the perceptual level to the highest level abstractions.

Highly abstract concepts presuppose a very long chain of prior conceptualizations. This is why, for example, so much knowledge must be gained for students to learn calculus.

There's more and more to come from her on this. The title bar is a link, btw.

Thursday, October 19, 2006

All right, Omni. You win.

Comments are now reopened to the general public.

Spammers will be deleted.

Saturday, October 14, 2006

Mundanity of mundanities!

All is mundanity!

I spent the day picking up a shed from Menard's. Then I had to make a perfectly level spot to put it in. As the sun was setting I was screwing in the last screws in the floor.

Oh, no! That's just the first step. Now I have to put the shed on top of it.

I got my exercise loading the shed into the truck alone, hauling it from the truck to the back yard alone, loading 30 50# (approx. 44 KG* for my friends overseas) bags of gravel into my truck back at the store - this time I had help (funny, they promised to help with the shed and no one showed up, while for the gravel nobody promised me anything and there they were), and I hauled that from the truck to the back of the back yard. Alone again. (Naturally).

After that it was just nitpicky stuff - fitting the pieces together, and mastering the art of screwing their cheap-@$$ screws in without breaking them. I can't claim to be there yet.

They claim that one man can put up the shed in four hours. They neglected to mention any of what I spent my whole day doing.

My back is killing me.

*Correction in comments.

Friday, October 06, 2006

Wisdom for entrepreneurs from Mises and Masterson

Mises quote from The Anti-Capitalistic Mentality, an exerpt of which may be found on the Mises Blog:
...[T]he human mind has always been deluded by the image of an unchangeable existence. The avowed aim of all utopian movements is to put an end to history and to establish a final and permanent calm.

The psychological reasons for this tendency are obvious. Every change alters the external conditions of life and well-being and forces people to adjust themselves anew to the modification of their environments. It hurts vested interests and threatens traditional ways of production and consumption. It annoys all those who are intellectually inert and shrink from revising their modes of thinking.

Conservatism is contrary to the very nature of human acting.
...
The moral corruption, the licentiousness and the intellectual sterility of a class of lewd would-be authors and artists is the ransom mankind must pay lest the creative pioneers be prevented from accomplishing their work. Freedom must be granted to all, even to base people, lest the few who can use it for the benefit of mankind be hindered.

Amen, brother.

And Michael Masterson, from his ETR article, "My Door Is Open, But Nobody's Coming In," "Yes, you can succeed by doing it alone ... but why bother?"

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Ah! C****! I had something important to say,

but I just had to go run and fish the toddler out of the toilet. Of course, my contribution was laughter. Next time remind me to grab the camera.

She forgot to ask someone to put the baby seat on the potty.

Traumatized for life, I'm sure.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

I'll just put this here.

You Have a Phlegmatic Temperament

Mild mannered and laid back, you take life at a slow pace.
You are very consistent - both in emotions and actions.
You tend to absorb set backs easily. You are cool and collected.

It is difficult to offend you. You can remain composed and unemotional.
You are a great friend and lover. You don't demand much of others.
While you are quiet, you have a subtle wit that your friends know well.

At your worst, you are lazy and unwilling to work at anything.
You often get stuck in a rut, without aspirations or dreams.
You can get too dependent on others, setting yourself up for abandonment.


I took this test twice. I swear I gave the same answers both times, but I got Melancholic the first time. I like that one better.

Thanks, Blue.

Friday, August 25, 2006

In Which I Earn My Title

Here's some free advice I got in the Pathway to Prosperity eCourse [don't forget the link, Al]:
When we contemplate the fact that the universe is abounding in all good things, material as well as spiritual, and compare it with man's blind eagerness to secure a few gold coins, or a few acres of dirt, it is then that we realize how dark and ignorant selfishness is; it is then that we know that self-seeking is self-destruction.

Nature gives all, without reservation, and loses nothing; man, grasping all, loses everything.

Yeah, so we can all just lie down on the lawn and let nature take its course.

Look, I don't need to be inspired to sit around mooning all day. I'm way too given to that already. More than anybody I know! [Except my sister, she's worse than me.] I need to be convinced that it's worth my while to get off my damn duff and do some damn work!

I already know the pathway to internal peace, I found that decades ago: climb a tree in the woods and listen to the birds sing. First rule of Peace is "shut up."

Now, let me deal with the strawman, "man's blind eagerness to secure a few gold coins, or a few acres of dirt."

A few acres of dirt? How about a few acres of wheat, or strawberries, flowers or apple trees? Human eyes see the prize. Dirt is more than just dirt. And so is money more than dirt.

I forget who said it, but someone advised a young man, many years ago, to strive to be a millionaire, not just for the sake of aquiring money, but for the virtues it would teach him. Let me try to list them: patience, persuasion, cooperation, prudence in saving and investing, judging character in potential partners. Hard work. Honesty.

Even Mafia dons exercise these virtues more than their opposite vices. If they didn't they would be ousted (and/or killed) and replaced.

Friday, August 18, 2006

Butterflies, Birds, Flowers, Rainbows and Hot-Air Balloons

My top five favorite things to look at. The order varies moment to moment.

Butterflies
Birds
Flowers
Rainbows
Hot-Air Balloons

I also like knots (oddly enough, they don't teach you how to tie a net, which is what I was looking for).

I'm also "right partial" to babies and good-lookin' women, but those go without saying. Try not to treat the latter like the former. Full grown (and even half-grown) women don't let just anyone check their diapers, for instance.

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

WOW!! Look at this!!

Treasure Island was my favorite book when I was a young teen. I've said that my youth was spent in a tree (one tree or other, mostly either a white pine or an oak) out in the woods. The fact is, I brought along with me the fabulous adventure stories of Robert Louis Stevenson and Mark Twain.

Although, I have to admit, I've never gotten beyond my beloved Treasure Island, as far as Stevenson is concerned. When I think about it, I have trouble believing that anything else matters. We own Kidknapped, but I haven't read it.

AM1500 just got the Twins for next year. Dave Thompson is talking about his favorite Twins memories.

I have to agree with him... Hell, I'm happy to announce that he agrees with me, that Jack Morris' performance in the 7th game of the '91 World Series is the greatest sports performance that I will ever witness.

God bless Jack Morris!

Guess who said, "What the Hell! It's only a game!" Hint: that's in reference to the aformentioned Game 7. He emphasized and repeated it because the reporters didn't seem to get it, but I agree with him that it was funny.

Monday, July 24, 2006

An Interesting Insight from ETR

How is it possible that billionaires have the best employees, contracts that favor their companies, and business strategies that bring them tangible financial benefits year after year? The answer is simple: They see more in people, contracts, and the various business strategies that are offered them throughout their careers.

I don't think I should quote overmuch from Early to Rise, since they charge for their services [Maybe not. They seem to have gone FREE on me since I subscribed. Hopefully they'll renew me at that rate, but I don't regret having paid for what I got.], but this goes well with a point made the other day in a letter to another contributor:
From a letter written to Bill Bonner at The Daily Reckoning...

"I'd like to share a grammar school lesson I got in the fifth or sixth grade of Catholic elementary school. Bear in mind that this was the fifties, and the boys were taught by the Christian Brothers. These guys were tough. Many of them, if not all, were WWII or Korean War vets. And, they had answers for most tough questions. They also were pretty blunt. And, not a lot of patience for distinctions that did not make a difference. Strangely, they took a pretty strong position on [the subject of equality].

"Jefferson wrote 'all men are created equal.' To these battle-hardened vets, there was nothing 'wrong' about this assertion. Quizzically, they would say, 'All men ARE created equal. But, all men are NOT born equal.'

Whoops! I got my dates backwards. This one is from today, the first quote is from 7/22/06.

They also have a nice quote by Ben Franklin:
The Quotable Mr. Franklin: On Doomsdayers ...

"I saw in the public papers of different states frequent complaints of hard times, deadness of trade, scarcity of money, &c. It is always in the power of a small number to make a great clamour. But let us take a cool view of the general state of our affairs, and perhaps the prospect will appear less gloomy than has been imagined."

(Source: The Compleated Autobiography, by Benjamin Franklin, compiled and edited by Mark Skousen)

I'm a big fan of Skousen as well as Franklin.

Friday, July 07, 2006

My Favorite Poem

I suppose it's neither a very bourgeois nor philistinish to post on such a topic, but I'm in the mood, and those who know me will understand its meaning to me:

"Terence, this is stupid stuff:
You eat your victuals fast enough;
There can't be much amiss, 'tis clear,
To see the rate you drink your beer.
But oh, good Lord, the verse you make,
It gives a chap the belly-ache.
The cow, the old cow, she is dead;
It sleeps well, the horned head:
We poor lads, 'tis our turn now
To hear such tunes as killed the cow.
Pretty friendship 'tis to rhyme
Your friends to death before their time
Moping melancholy mad:
Come, pipe a tune to dance to, lad."

Why, if 'tis dancing you would be
There's brisker pipes than poetry.
Say, for what were hop-yards meant,
Or why was Burton built on Trent?
Oh, many a peer of England brews
Livelier liquor than the Muse,
And malt does more than Milton can
To justify God's ways to man.
Ale, man, ale's the stuff to drink
For fellows whom it hurts to think:
Look into the pewter pot
To see the world as the world's not.
And faith, 'tis pleasant till 'tis past:
The mischief is that 'twill not last.
Oh I have been to Ludlow fair
And left my necktie god knows where,
And carried half-way home, or near,
Pints and quarts of Ludlow beer:
Then the world seemed none so bad,
And I myself a sterling lad;
And down in lovely muck I've lain,
Happy till I woke again.
Then I saw the morning sky:
Heigho, the tale was all a lie;
The world, it was the old world yet,
I was I, my things were wet,
And nothing now remained to do
But begin the game anew.

Therefore, since the world has still
Much good, but much less good than ill,
And while the sun and moon endure
Luck's a chance, but trouble's sure,
I'd face it as a wise man would,
And train for ill and not for good.
'Tis true, the stuff I bring for sale
Is not so brisk a brew as ale:
Out of a stem that scored the hand
I wrung it in a weary land.
But take it: if the smack is sour,
The better for the embittered hour;
It should do good to heart and head
When your soul is in my soul's stead;
And I will friend you, if I may,
In the dark and cloudy day.

There was a king reigned in the East:
There, when kings will sit to feast,
They get their fill before they think
With poisoned meat and poisoned drink.
He gathered all that springs to birth
From the many-venomed earth;
First a little, thence to more,
He sampled all her killing store;
And easy, smiling, seasoned sound,
Sate the king when healths went round.
They put arsenic in his meat
And stared aghast to watch him eat;
They poured strychnine in his cup
And shook to see him drink it up:
They shook, they stared as white's their shirt:
Them it was their poison hurt
- I tell the tale that I heard told.
Mithridates, he died old.

-- A. E. Housman

I got it here, where you can read some commentary on the background and imagery.

Friday, June 23, 2006

Aw! It's kid-pix! Dagnabbit!

But she's so cute!

Free Image Hosting at www.ImageShack.us

Do you still doubt it?

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But she's one of those damn Canada lovers!

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You know my answer.

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I gotta teach her real American values!

Thursday, June 01, 2006

My Father-in-law gave me a power mower.

My lawn was out of control. It's possible to keep control of a lawn with a reel-mower, but not if it rains for a week in the Spring. Once the grass goes to seed, it's pretty much impossible to get a reel-mower to cut it.

God bless my Father-in-law!

It's a 1971 Briggs and Stratton motor on a True Value body. I got out of the power-mowing racket because I couldn't work on my last one. The manual said that I should send it back to the manufacturer for the problem it had. BS!! It would cost as much as I paid for the mower to ship it back to them, let alone the the cost of the repair!

I brought that thing home and cut everything on my land down to two inches high. Now, if I feel like it, I can pull out the the reel-mower and keep up with the growth, but it took the 1971 gas mower to make that possible.

Wednesday, May 31, 2006

Learn some German via the Lord's Prayer. Pentacost is coming up.

Or "das Vaterunser" as they call it. [The Father-our; pronounce it doss Fotter-oonzer. Throw those "r"s back into your uvula and try to roll them there. If you can't, don't worry about it, most Germans can't either. I was taught to do it by a Danish girl named Merete.

My pronunciations are based on the simplest, standard (Midwestern-) American English rules.]

Matthäus 6:9-13:
Ma-TAY-oos
Matthew

9. Unser Vater im Himmel!
Oonzer Fotter im Himmel
Our Father in [-the] Heaven

Dein Name werde geheiligt.
dine nomma vair-da ge-HILE-igt
your name be hallowed

10. Dein Reich komme.
dine rysh (long 'i') coma
your kingdom (empire) come

Dein Wille geschehe
dine villa ge-shay-a
your Will happen

wie im Himmel so auf Erden.
vee im himmel zo ouf AIR-den
as in heaven so on earth

11. Unser tägliches Brot gib uns heute.
Oon-zer TAYG-lish-ess brote gip oonce hoy-ta
Our daily bread give us today

12. Und vergib uns unsere Schuld,
Oont fair-Gip oonce oonz-er-a shoolt
and forgive us our debt [yes, just one]

wie auch wir vergeben unsern Schuldigern.
vee oukh veer fair-GAY-ben OONzern SHOOL-dig-ern
as also we forgive our debters

13. Und führe uns nicht in Versuchung,
Oont fyoor-a [merge the 'yuh' and 'oo' sounds completely; actually, "furra" wouldn't be the worst butchering of that word I ever heard] oonce neesht in fair-ZOOKH-oong
and lead us not into temptation

sondern erlöse uns von dem Bösen.
Zone-dern air-LERZ-a [make that "ER" in there sound Valley-Girlish, not Bostonian] oonce fun dame BERZ-en
but redeem us from the evil [or evil one]

Denn Dein ist das Reich und die Kraft
den dine isst doss rysh oont dee kroft
because yours is the kingdom and the power

und die Herrlichkeit in Ewigkeit. Amen
oont dee HAIR-lish-kite in AY-vig-kite. Ah-men.
and the glory in eternity. Amen.

At my church we celebrate Pentacost by reciting The Lord's Prayer in any other language we happen to know, all at once. They print up a sheet with about 20 different ones.

Thursday, May 25, 2006

Running stuff

Hey! The City [Duh! But just try to navigate their frickin' website. Here's the Google search I did to find this: "'brooklyn center' walking path map"] has the distances for my run to and around Palmer Lake:
Community Center to Palmer Lake
1.0 mile

Palmer Lake Loop
3.1 miles

So that's 5.1 Miles right there. Now I just have to figure out how far it is from my house to the Commity Center. I figure it's close enough to just call it a mile.

MapMyRun.com says it's 1.1 miles, so I ran a full 10K in an hour.

Now all I have to do is multiply that by 4.

Friday, May 19, 2006

Since this is where I come to express my... Well, my bourgeois philistinism

Jim Daniels is offering a special report on how to set up your own internet business, including a website. If you click on the golden key, the report is free.

Thursday, May 11, 2006

Notes on The Revolution and other events in American History worth celebrating.

Thanks for this link Kyle.
The Battles of Lexington and Concord were the first battles of the American Revolutionary War. They were fought on April 19, 1775 in Middlesex County, Province of Massachusetts Bay within the towns of Lexington, Concord, Lincoln, Menotomy (Arlington), and Cambridge, near Boston. The battles marked the outbreak of open armed conflict between Great Britain and its thirteen colonies in the mainland of British North America.

The Boston Tea Party would be a good one to celebrate. "The incident, which took place on Thursday, December 16, 1773, has been seen as helping to spark the American Revolution."

The Day King James II abdicated in 1688. Wikipedia: "...on the 28th [of December] William accepted the responsibilities of government." "On February 13, 1689, Mary II and William III jointly acceded to the throne of England."

I've mentioned Constitution Day "It took effect on March 4, 1789 and has served as a model for the constitutions of numerous other nations."

Whoops, I need to make a change at the store.

The Bill of Rights should be mentioned. "These amendments came into effect on December 15, 1791, when ratified by three-fourths of the States."

VE Day - May 8.

I don't need to commemorate No Pants Day.

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

I jogged on Saturday.

15 minutes was what I planned. We had company over for the weekend.

I put my shoes on in front of my father-in-law, answering questions about practical household matters as I did so.

I may not have answered his last question or comment as I headed out the door.

I started my run at 8:32. I reached the Civic Center at 8:41 and the foot of the 694 foot-bridge at 8:42. That was half-way to where I figured to turn around, as I figured it at that point.

"But this is where it just starts to get pretty!" said the devil on my shoulder.

He was right!

When I got to Palmer Lake, I took a right. I knew I was making a commitment to run all that way around it. But I said to myself, "Almost 18 minutes. Halfway there!" I had changed my mind from a 20 minute run [oh, yeah! I originally planned a 15 minute run! What happened to that? ...Um. I don't know.] to a 35 minute run. I read somewhere that 35 minutes is the magic training number.

Well, I tell you something about magic training numbers. Somewhere between 18 and 25 minutes, my breathing and stride fell into a rhythm and the next c. 40 minutes were very easy.

A jogger is never forced to say, "I have to get up this hill fast!" or "I have to be the fastest here!"

Saturday, I learned I have it in me to achieve this goal.

Now, I have to DO it.

Friday, April 28, 2006

The kids are having a battle on the spare bed

with a dead exercise ball. I'm gettin' the crap kicked out of me here, and I'm just a bystander trying to blog.

There are a number of products that I actually believe in: Viadent toothpaste, Zim's Crack Cream, any kind of Vitamin E, CoQ 10, liquid minerals, garlic cloves, Listerine, Aveeno, fish liver oil...

But, exercise balls arent't among them. We have two and one's dead flat and one's mostly flat.

Maybe [note the spelling of that word, Ron] they're not designed for truly fat people who have young children.

Naturally, since the Weatherman predicted scattered showers

and thunderstorms, it's been simply raining cats and dogs all day. If these are scattered, they must be huge.

I can't hear any rain on the glass spires of the roof of the atrium because there are too many jovial people greeting and joking and laughing out there.

We're expecting In-laws tonight. The house is a mess. Somebody I know keeps saying that if I'll get the children out of her way, she'll clean up. I think her method is to sit in her chair and brood about how she never gets any help. Then she does laundry until her aches and pains drive her into bed. I don't know how we produce that much laundry, but we do. We always have clean clothes to wear anyway.

I play with the kids until story time, get them ready for bed and put them there. Neither of them ever gives us any trouble about bed-time.

Then, I suppose, Somebody expects me to start house-cleaning, but there's no way I'm going to begin any physical work after nine. OK, I'll fold a basket or two of laundry if you ask me to, or make a bed so we can get in it...

Oh, whine, whine, whine...

Did I mention that it's raining?

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Steve reminded me of something.

We had a few difficulties of our own at easter. And I've got pictures.

Who's the first to show up when the camera comes out?
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Easter Ham!
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So we finally get the whole family together and what do I get?
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To be fair, neither The Accountant nor I have any idea how that last picture came about, but it was too effin' hilarious not to post. Of course, the kids, who are obviously hanging their heads in shame (or embarassment for us), might have a different story (that they're not telling us).

Friday, April 14, 2006

Couldn't have had a nicer early spring day!

We went out to Wagner's Drive In for dinner this evening. The wife and I had Double California Burgers and a family-size order of onion rings. She had a chocolate malt and I had a blueberry shake. The kids had identical orders of hamburgers with Rootbeer Floats. And, of course, they shared the rings.

There were several classic cars, and a couple of those kit pseudo-classic hot-rods (that are still pretty cool), there--a black and cream '54 Chevy and purple '49 Ford...some kinda souped-up Willys (I didn't get over to that one).

Then we popped into Walmart & bought grilling supplies for the month. We do charcoal on a Weber Kettle. I have no idea why anyone would spend a thousand dollars on a gas grill. The best tasting thing I ever ate was Johnsonville Brats grilled on a Weber.

Might be why I married the wife, come to think of it.

Friday, March 31, 2006

I'll be darned!

"Canadian diamonds are the best quality diamonds in the world… even better than African diamonds."

Peter was referring to the physical characteristics of the diamond. But he also mentioned that buyers prefer Canadian diamonds for another reason: they don't want to support civil war in Africa and will pay a premium for a clear conscience.

I didn't know they had any.

I've been saying, since my first daughter was born, that I'm movin' to Northern Saskatchewan. Now I find that there's money to be made there.

I should run up there this summer and ask 'em if they've got some hard work they need help with for a week. While the wife and kids check out the local Mennonite, Hutterite and/or Amish communities to see if they have room for another family.

Monday, March 27, 2006

Crazy, man!

[Teach you to follow a blind link, eh?]

Actually, I like this image a little better.

This one would be great as an insult!

Want to call somebody a Nazi? These are pre-nazi helmets, but, hey: Bismarck - Hitler, what's the difference? The Prussians were national socialists before Hitler coined the term.

What idiot titled this picture?! It's "grazing"!

I'm just collecting up some images for future use.

Correction-4/14/06: I just noticed I'd forgotten the pre-Nazi helmet link. Sorry.

Saturday, March 25, 2006

Don't Make Me Assume Leadership of All the Bourgeois Philistines of the World!

Do I have to write a manifesto?

Huh?

I'd be happy to take up the challenge. But I gotta tell ya: I'm a capitalist. It's a free competition. And there is no end.

AND... The Market determines the winner... The Market can change its mind.

And The Market is a better aggregator of human wisdom than any government has ever been, and is less fickle than any polity has ever been

AND... let me emphasize that I do not accept that the status quo is the best that The Market can do. I think that it will do better, and the freer it is allowed to be the faster it will pay off in greater freedoms.

WOD: pol·i·ty (pl-t)
n. pl. pol·i·ties
1. The form of government of a nation, state, church, or organization.
2. An organized society, such as a nation, having a specific form of government: "His alien philosophy found no roots in the American polity" New York Times.
I mean the second definition, of course - although, I suspect that debate may continue through The Millenium.

[I almost said The MNlenium. Texans are known as braggarts, but let me just spill the beans on Minnesotans: We (or they-I'm originally a Cheesehead-are certain that we're better than everyone else--hence the term "MNlenium" would be taken amiss by few Minnesota churches. I welcome a survey on the matter.)

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Check out this goofball's review of a Wiggles DVD

Wiggling into Deeper Truths, October 17, 2005
Reviewer: viktor_57 "viktor_57" (Fairview, Your Favorite State, USA) - See all my reviews
After much pleading and prodding by my five-year-old son, I finally gave in and bought him "The Wiggles - Wiggle Time."

At first, I thought, "Oh no, another glibly tuneful romp through cartoonish juvenilia." But how wrong I was!

"The Wiggles" just may represent the only active, truly original modern art form practised by today's desiccated, so-called "artists". When one compares the underlying harmonic and polyphonic structure of a representative tune such as "hot potato dance," one realizes that such complexity and daring have never been heard since Strauss shocked even the jaded Parisians with "Salome"!

This is to take nothing away from the dance, however, which rivals anything ever choreographed by Balanchine. The dancers, eschewing the ambits of classical forms and steps, create their own pleitropic vocabulary of movements which bewilder the viewer with their genetic pregnancy.

Were this all that the "Wiggles" offered, one could easily imagine that their lack of immediate recognition for the geniuses that they are was due to the subtleties of their art and the jealousies of less talented peers. But only after viewing the disk repeatedly and incessantly (I had to purchase a second copy for myself) did I realize the entirety and awful enormity of the "Wiggles" experience. Such was my shock of insensing comprehension that I felt the universe close around me into a point of awareness centered on one sublime, beautiful, yet terrible truth. I struggled mightily to force order into the epiphany which the "Wiggles" graced upon me. But I could not.

Therefore, gentle reader, take heart from my woe. No measure of wisdom or beauty should cost a man his soul.

I like the Wiggles, too, man, but Good Gravy!

Update: don't miss his review of the Philips HeartStart Home Automated External Defibrillator (AED)

Sunday, March 19, 2006

Some family stuff

Thought I would show you some of what's been going on around here.

It's sunny and 38° F here today and with all the fresh snow, Rosie and I thought it would be a good idea to spend Lena's naptime making a snowman.
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Here's a pic of Lena from the other night:
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Here's my dungeon:
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And one more look at the weather:
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The younger son (the responsible one) spent a week here with us, and now he's off to Des Moines on a new business venture. He was pretty good company. He's interested in a lot of the things I've been studying for the last couple years. I suppose, in a way, I've developed those interests due to his and his brother's [more mature] activities since they left home.

They do pretty well when they buckle down. But this isn't their blog, so I don't feel free to discuss what their up to. Sorry.

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

I'd give 'im "an eye for an eye."

Execution, as we practice it, is too good for him. I'd want to make sure he felt every ounce of terror that I thought she might have felt.

I'd use an auger bit for the more unspeakable parts, though.
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Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Want to read about a Randian hero?

Check out Dr. J. Phillip London's CV.
Dr. J. Phillip London is Chairman of the Board, President, and Chief Executive Officer of CACI International Inc, an information technology and network services company with fiscal 2004 revenue of $1.146 billion. Under Dr. London's leadership, CACI has grown from a small professional services consulting firm to become a pacesetter in information technology (IT) and communications solutions across markets throughout North America and Western Europe. CACI operations today are worldwide and global in nature.

There's more. It's too long to reproduce here, but I like this bit:
Dr. London is a graduate of the U.S. Naval Academy (1959) and the Naval Postgraduate School (1967), where he earned, respectively, a bachelor of science in naval engineering and a master of science in operations research. He holds a doctorate in business administration conferred "with distinction" from The George Washington University (1971).

During his 12 years of active duty as a regular officer (1959-1971) during the Cold War, Dr. London initially served as a naval aviator and carrier pilot, serving with U.S. Navy "hunter-killer" task forces arrayed against the Soviet Union's strategic nuclear submarine threat. He saw service in the Cuban Missile Crisis (the "thirteen days") of October 1962, and his numerous at-sea deployments included the North Atlantic, the Mediterranean, and the Caribbean. He was with the airborne recovery team for Col. John Glenn's Mercury Program space flight in Freedom 7 in the Caribbean, on February 20, 1962, on the U.S.S. Randolph (CVS-15). Later, at the height of the Vietnam War, he served as Aide and Administrative Assistant to the Vice Chief of the Naval Material Command, Department of the Navy (1969-70). Dr. London left active duty in 1971 and joined the U.S. Navy Reserve, retiring as a captain in 1983, having served as commanding officer of aeronautical engineering units with the Naval Air Systems Command, Washington, D.C.

Friday, March 03, 2006

I don't know how to introduce this piece by Tom McMahon

He calls it, "What I Have Learned In 15 Years."

This may not be the greatest bit of genius in the post, but try this bit:
You never anticipate the really bad stuff

Think of all the old Twilight Zone episodes that had a post-World War III theme. Now think of all the episodes with a big-jetliner-smashing-into-a-skyscraper theme. We tend to worry about a lot of things that never happen, and let ourselves get blindsided by reality.

Thank you, Tom. It helps.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Our '97Dodge Caravan is in my wife's name.

That's fine with me. It ain't a manly vehicle.

But I'm happy enough to have it; it has it's uses.

I've mentioned that I had an accident a while back with the '99 Ford F-150.

Well, since she hasn't been paid off, the lien-holder insisted that she be properly restored to new condition. Well, the insurance company talks like this is all my fault, the opposing insurance company wants to prove that it's all my fault and the auto-body shop talks like it is all the insurance companies' fault... Well, let's just say my premiums are soon to hit the level of my car payments.

They had the SOB for the entire month of January.

But it sure is a pretty truck!

I ain't s***in' ya! The @*&^er's beautiful!

Did I mention that it has a Waldoch-customized interior? That's real wood, real leather... Dude! I own the Rolls-Royce of Pick-up trucks!

I'd pay any price for that.

Monday, February 06, 2006

Babysat tonight while the wife argued about Girl Scout cookies with the troup leader.

I finally found some batteries with a charge in 'em for the digicam, so Nina posed for some cute pix.

I call this one, "Yes, Father?"
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She sees I've got the camera out, so she indulges me with this pose:
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"Don't hate me because I'm beautiful!"

Here's where she realizes she's having a bad hair day:
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When she saw it later, she was in denial. She wanted to call it, "Baby's Sleeping." Yeah, right, kid! "Baby Butchering Pose" more like.

When Rosie got home, she spent her free moments while I was reading to her from Anne of Green Gables expressing her artistic...muse or whatever...with blocks:
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Thanks to ImageShack for [URL=http://imageshack.us]Free Image Hosting[/URL]

That goalpost lookin' thing reminds me of somethin'. How about them Steelers, eh? Now I think the Seahawks got screwed on a couple calls (the called-back TD on the tiniest of push-offs and Hasselbeck getting called for a low block on a tackle{?!!})... But those weren't enough to stop a great team. The fact is, that even though it was a bit frustrating to watch, the Steelers were the better team. They just had too many weapons.

I'm a fan of Mike Holmgren, I like Hasselbeck, but I found myself rooting for the Steelers. The Steelers had more, personable characters to like.

I'm sad somebody had to lose, but I'm glad "The Bus" won. And Heinz Ward deserved the MVP Award.

Friday, February 03, 2006

We're gonna hold you to that, John.

"I've taken no pork since the day I got here," Boehner declared, and for several years he's favored changing the rules about hiding pork for special interests.

"I have no illusions we're going to eliminate that or we're going to eliminate all these projects" – or should we, he said. "But there ought to be a process where we can distinguish worthy projects from worthless pork."

He suggests making public the names of members tied to specific spending earmarks because "sunlight is the best disinfectant."

This is how Republicans have become embroiled in the latest lobbying scandal involving Abramoff, Boehner said.

He notes that lobbying scandals crop up from time to time, but the real problem is the overall size of the federal government.

"We're going to spend $2.6 trillion of people's money. And when you have a pot of money that large it's going to attract unsavory characters who will want to be selfish.

I'd prefer to call that stupidly short-sighted.
"The mere size of government is a problem ... And the burgeoning use of earmarks [is] the dynamic that's going to produce an Abramoff or a Duke Cunningham." The latter refers to former California Republican Randy "Duke" Cunningham, who pleaded guilty last November to a variety of crimes including bribery.

To Boehner's thinking, while proposals from his party and Democrats to clean up real or perceived corruption are worthy goals, "I think that more transparency in the relationship between lobbyists and members would be more helpful."

He pointed out what he considers to have been bad law – the McCain/Feingold campaign reform law, which he voted against because of its fundamental flaw in attempting to put more rules into place without being honest with the American people.

Most important thing a politician has said since 1995.

Friday, January 20, 2006

Prediction: Fame and Fortune will precipitate

on Dave Cloud if he keeps up this kind of analysis [hope he can handle it]:
In an early December Wall Street Journal opinion page article General Motors CEO Rick Wagoner...tosses in the obligatory call for a "level playing field." The term is cliché, but it is an extremely misleading one. The sports analogy implies that everyone should be required to play by the same rules; that all competitors should have approximately the same equipment for the contest. Who could object to that? Well, anyone who understands that this is simply not how the world works.
...
When a business leader, politician or pundit calls for a 'level playing field', he or she is exposing either a startling ignorance of real world economics or, more likely, displaying a truly disingenuous attitude toward the facts. My home state of Indiana is at a terrible disadvantage to Hawaii in attracting tourists. Should Hoosiers insist that Uncle Sam provide a level playing field? We could limit the number of people who can go to Hawaii each year or make airlines charge more to fly people there. It sounds stupid, but then so do quotas and tariffs.

Oh, but GM is special.

Mr. Cloud may get famous and rich, but it won't be due to the favor of multi-national corporations who belly up to Uncle Sam's trough.

Can you see why Ayn Rand wanted to see the word "religion" replaced with "commerce" in the First Amendment?

Sunday, January 08, 2006

Al wants to handle your dog doo!

All right, maybe that didn't come out right.

Check out these two posts at my other blog: one, two.

I'd consider buying into a franchise opportunity once I establish myself. As long as it was of benefit to my customers and myself.

Saturday, December 24, 2005

Merry Christmas everyone!

We've got the inlaws here and we're listening to a latin-looking guy sing German Christmas carols on the CD player.

My father-in-law celebrated Christmas Eve by fixing a leaky faucet. I got to make the annual Holiday run to Menard's for plumbing parts.

Of course, before that came up, I was festively cleaning cat-boxes and scraping ice and slush off the driveway.

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

I had to save David's story about modern technology,

and here seemed to be the place. Links below.

On Friday I try to get hold of my future-ex-wife (telephonically that is, the death-grip days are over.) The idea is that I drive over to see the kids, and I want to make sure that they'd be in, because it's over an hour away. Anyway, I call the house phone - no reply. Her mobile - no reply. My daughter's mobile - no reply. My younger son's mobile - no reply. My older son's mobile - I bet you've guessed that one already. No? No reply.

Now in the years B.C. (Before Cellphones) I'd have thought "They must be out. I'll call later." But no, these days I'm used to talking to people when I want to talk to people. I get irritable. I try them all again. No reply. I fly into a rage. I phone them all again leaving increasingly frenzied messages. By the time I get to Matt's voicemail for the third time I'm shrieking "What's the fucking point of having a mobile phone, if you don't take it with you and keep it turned on, you stupid little bastard?! And I'm not your father. And we adopted you! From the leper colony! And you're a crap guitar player! AAAAARRGGH!"

And so on.

Then I calm down.

Then I start to worry. I know that my future-ex-father-in-law is staying with them at the moment, and I know he has heart trouble. The only scenario that makes sense to me by now is that he's had a heart attack and they're all down at Intensive Care with their phones turned off in case they interfere with the equipment. Either that or a plane has crashed on the house and my family's mobiles are ringing plaintively amidst the lifejackets, pieces of people and little tinfoil containers.

I decide to face down my demons and go over there. I'm ready for the worst. Then my phone rings. It's my F.E.W. She and my daughter were at the gym. My younger son's on the way back from Prague (I'd forgotten about that one.) My older son had a real good night out and is still asleep.

I decide I need to change my medication.
David | Homepage | 12.07.05 - 12:31 pm | #