Twelve and a half years later ...

Taking into consideration the borderline-ridiculous range of topics I've commented on here over the years, I think the following observation is probably required reading at this point.

I write on this blog, not because I have any particular expertise or insight into the topic of the day, but as a mechanism to allow the voices in my head the opportunity to yell at the world, rather than each other. The degree of correlation between the topic and the speech is only occasionally deliberate on my part.

You are invited to believe as much of this as you think appropriate.

:)

Congratulations to me, I suppose

Contrary to my own expectations, I've somehow managed to survive into official "old age"; yes, I'm 65 years old today.

Still waiting on my Medicare card to show up, of course. Fortunately I've been getting my health care from the VA for a year now, so I'm well familiar with how government health care "functions". It's only to be expected, I suppose. It'll get sorted out soon enough.

It's not all that much of an accomplishment really, just a matter of staying mobile and keeping breathing on your own. Still, there's plenty who don't manage it for all that. I'll just keep on as I have done and see what new experience today brings.

It'll almost certainly be an improvement on the alternative.

-----

Also, I don't think I've ever made an issue of this blog's age, so this seems an appropriate time for that too; a link to my first - and to be expected inappropriate - blog post from August, 2007:

https://wheretheresawilliam.blogspot.com/2007/08/and-now-for-something-more-usual.html

Proof of Life

Let's see if I can remember how this thing works.

There have been many changes in my life over the past 9 months or so. No, I wasn't pregnant, nor was anyone else because of me. Leave it for now that I have retired from my former place of employment in a somewhat spontaneous fashion, with pretty much all of the chaos - fiscal and otherwise - that might be assumed, given the complete lack of planning and preparation. Social Security and my pension, along with medical treatment through the VA (who have pleasantly surprised, consistently), are now arriving on schedule and I find myself adjusting more or less successfully to my transition into the social category of gainfully unemployed.

Having become used to not having to do anything to anyone else's schedule, I'm trying writing for money as an alternative to simple mental vegetation. Book? Movie? Can't tell yet. So far it's just words lined up one after another on the digital page, with a certain amount of coherency of narrative periodically detectable.

We'll see.

I'm still alive, probably more annoying to others than ever, with every intention of remaining so well beyond the statistical norm for my cultural demographic if I can. Come on Aubrey de Grey!

Updated 3/27/18 to add a link to a BBC interview with Aubrey de Grey (beware the autostart):

BBC interview

Adding To My Intellectual Posterity (or, Yet Another Failure To STFU :))

I'm going to archive my most recent foray into Internet Fame here because, if you can't be narcissistic on your own blog, why bother to even keep breathing on your own, I ask you?

Part The First: Should Jeff Bezos Hire Humanity?

For the permalink challenged: http://www.blogtalkradio.com/worldtransformed/2017/08/01/should-jeff-bezos-hire-humanity

Followed "the next day" by Part The Second: The Semi-Automated Economy by The World Transformed

Second chorus, same as the first:
https://soundcloud.com/phil-bowermaster/the-semi-automated-economy?fb_action_ids=10156475543678712&fb_action_types=soundcloud%3Apublish

Proof positive that you don't actually have to know what you're talking about to have a "respectable" (or at least printable) opinion.

You really should buy the book:

Visions for a World Transformed

Welcome To Arkham Tumblir ...

... where the truth is just Crazy Talk.

Racism is much discussed in recent months (years?). There is a dictionary definition, of course, and pretty much anyone you might care to ask can offer up an example of what racism is to them.

But what is it really?

Consider this; racism is Elitist Ideology taken to the broadest possible human application.

In religion there is a Supreme Being/God/Gods, one (or more) entities that are the ultimate Elitist(s) humans have so far been able to imagine.

In actual physical reality here on Earth, human history is just crammed full of various examples of Kings, individuals held up as the penultimate example of human superiority over other humans, at least by those who personally gain in some way by enforcing that "fact" on everyone else.

In less prosaic terms, Elitist Ideology holds that the elitist is superior to others as an intrinsic consequence of being one of the elite. It is simply assumed that the Elite accomplish more and greater things than do other, lesser humans.

As there can be only one king at a time, so too can there be only one Most Elite at one time. Which is something of a problem for all the also-rans. Not surprisingly, there is fierce competition to be acknowledged as The Elite, and less surprisingly still a hierarchy of Elites as well.

Do you see the connection yet? Each level of elitists requires some group of lesser elitists to acknowledge their superiority. This necessarily dilutes the standards required for one to become acknowledged as being Elitist enough to have an opinion of another's elitistness (totally a word) to make a public opinion worthwhile amongst Elitist circles.

Eventually we get to the most common of social competitiveness, Common Othering.

Basically, anyone you can identify as being in some measure (usually of a determinedly ephemeral qualification) less than you makes you among the Elitist Class ... in your own opinion at least. The real trick here is to convince others (no, not those Others) that they too are part of your Elitist Class also, if only they will recite the mantra you provide them with.

The slightest difference in appearance (or manner of speech, or ... well, pretty much anything can be used to make an artificial distinction, can't it? It's in the nature of an "artificial distinction", isn't it?) is by far the easiest and most common example of human Elitists demonstrating their superiority over others.

And there you have it. Racism is Elitist behavior taken to the broadest application within the species. More simply put, a racist is someone who uses superficial, external distinctions to claim superiority over those who display arbitrarily Other superficial, external features from him/her self. Just as an aside, you can often discover how far up the Elitist scale people consider themselves to be by how immaterial they hold the lesser standards to be. The true Elitist often doesn't consider external appearance in gauging the status of someone else - unless there isn't enough difference between them otherwise, then ...

There is no racism, there is only elitist self-aggrandizement, practiced by those who have no actual achievements by which to be measured against others to determine a status that is, at best, chimerical and entirely external to one's actual character.

Strive to be among the elite at whatever you do, and to never be elitist about anyone, yourself most especially.

EDIT (11/28/2016):

While looking for something else I had written, I came across a post from September of 2012 in which I used the opportunity of a Tamara Keel post to examine elitism from a practical perspective.

Therein I linked to a 2006 post from Gary Gagliardi's old Warrior Class Blog in which I looked at the classical strategy aspects of elitism in a variety of human activities.

I consider Albert Nock's dismissal of "the uneducable" to be merely another example of Othering. By excluding any instance of individual success in improving one's status or condition in life that doesn't rise to the level of eliteness that Nock seems to require, it becomes very easy to simply shrug one's shoulders and ask, "What can one do?", and continue bewailing the lack of (presumably fellow) elites in the world.

As a final comment on the ramifications of elitism, a philosophical note to take away with you:

And here we come to my belief, my faith if you will, in the value of strategic science to the individual.

As defined by the science, we are each of us “alone” in that each of us is a unique and wholely separate position from any other’s. From that, the only way of evaluating and advancing our position is by relating to and forming relations with (alliances) other’s position. The individual can only and ever be a separate part of the whole. There is a profound sense of relief from the realisation that “I am alone” isn’t an expression of aberration; the only correct response is, “Well of course you are! And so are all of us.”

You are the only "you" there is. Opportunely, there are many other yous, each equally alone, and each variably available to join with you in some fashion, to some purpose. You will all still be alone, but you can do so together if you choose. That voice you hear in your head? It's only your echo. If you will listen to those other voices you can hear though, together you can make a lovely harmony. It's possible to lose your sense of alone-ness in the flow of the melody; perhaps doing so is somehow necessary to being a healthy human being. The only way you can ever achieve elite recognition is by contrasting your abilities to someone else's. If you aren't part of The Remnant, all you are is alone and totally ignorant of your measure as a human being.

Join the chorus.

The Questions

Oh my soul is troubled, Oh my will is worn,

Tired and discouraged, trampled on and torn,

Every breath a battle, every step a war,

My heart a broken vessel, this night an angry storm.


When sadness crashes like an ocean, 

When fear is deeper than the sea, 

When I am swallowed by the darkness, 

Will you come and anchor me?


I cannot see through this, can you be my eyes?

I'm completely hopeless, can you shine a light?

I have no more strength left, can you stand and fight?

I'm dying in this doubt, can you be my faith tonight?


When sadness crashes like an ocean,

When fear is deeper than the sea,

When I am swallowed by the darkness,

Will you come and anchor me?


The Tenors

There is one who knows the answers.

 

More Of That Away Game Activity

From my facebook timeline:

Fellow HEMA member Michael Sims posted a link to something by one Arnold Ragas from (the US state of) Georgia according to his post. I made the following comment there and think it worth claiming publicly with the minor caveat that I intend the following in the most positive way I am capable of (however poorly I may have conveyed that in the original):

"Can't say about skin, but we all wear our own stereotypes and see them a lot too. The biggest difference I have with BLM (or AARP or the NRA for that matter) is I don't go around crying about how my life isn't immune to all of that ... and you shouldn't either. Anyone who doesn't know you personally is going to be at least a little bit suspicious of you (and even if they do know you if their like my friends). We pay cops to be suspicious. You may suffer from your own stereotypical burden, but you ain't special that way so get over yourself and get on with making your life as successful as you want it to be."

This is the Arnold Ragas statement I was responding to:

"Sometimes my black life matters.

It mattered the day I was walking to my car at Lenox when I was ordered inside a police car until I sufficiently explained my purpose for being in the deck. My keys in hand provided no clue. It mattered the very next time I was in the deck and again ordered inside a police car until I again sufficiently explained my purpose.

My black life mattered the day I was helping someone move her furniture from her apartment to a moving van when several police officers pointed their guns at me until I sufficiently explained my purpose. Carrying a microwave to a moving van provided no clue.

My black life mattered the day I was looking through storefront windows and police detained me and questioned me until I sufficiently explained my purpose. It mattered further when I reached into my pocket for my wallet and they pulled their guns on me. My black life almost became matter on the pavement.

My black life mattered the day I was ordered inside a room at the DeKalb county courthouse and forced to explain my purpose. Being a lawyer wearing a suit in a courthouse provided no clue.

My black life mattered the night I was jogging in my Johns Creek subdivision when a police officer drove 5 mph and followed me for nearly a half mile until I finally and exasperatedly turned around and yelled, “What?!?!” My Nike shorts, shirt and running shoes provided no clue of my lawful presence. After all, I was running.

I never really thought of myself as a thug. I’m clean cut. Clean-shaven. No dreads. No golds. No tats. No sagging pants. Hell, I even own a pair of khakis.

But what do I know. Maybe I AM a thug. I graduated college but it took me 5 years. I graduated law school but I wasn’t top ten. I served 3 terms in the state House of Representatives but I never got more than 60% of the vote. I served 9 years as a judge but does Probate court really count? I’ve appeared on news shows as an expert on political and legal matters but my tie didn’t always quite match.

Or just maybe my skin is the sin and no accomplishment vaccine can inoculate me.

Sometimes I wish I could try on white skin. Not to keep; just to test drive for a few days. But moreso, I wish my white friends who condemn the black lives matter mantra could wear my skin. They’d probably cut the test drive short. They’d know what it feels like to be routinely viewed as a suspect instead of a person. They’d learn that black lives do indeed matter.

But oftentimes, for all the wrong reasons."

I'm a high school dropout. I joined the US Navy during the tag end of the Vietnam War because I didn't want to miss my generation's war. I labor under none of the lack of recognition for the really commendable accomplishments Mr Ragas struggles with, but nobody in or out of my life really gives two shits about any of my "accomplishments" either ... nor should they. We are all to some degree the sum of our accomplishments, but we are even more the product of all the really crappy choices we didn't make instead. The only people who are likely to know very much of any of that are we ourselves. Thankfully (I don't know about you, but some of that shit I didn't actually do but semi-seriously considered is really embarrassing, you know?).

Life's a lot of hard work, and we all ought to know by now what the real reward for doing hard work is: more work. Now that you've had a good snivel, Mr Ragas (and everyone else who feels the same way feel free to jump right in here), shake it off and get ready to go back to work. There's always going to be a lot more need's doing than there are those of us to do it. From the sound of things in your life, you could really help us out getting some of it done, too.

Kodak Moment

I'm in Oregon for my son's wedding, which is tomorrow, and I volunteer to drive us over to McMinnville (about 25 miles away from Dallas) so he and my 11 y/o grandson Asher can get haircuts.  In an effort to lessen the stress levels for his almost-wife (and decade + partner) Amy, we bring my 9 y/o granddaughter Rayna along with us.  So, we're driving along, the local oldies station on the radio, and this classic from the 60's comes up in the play rotation.  Duncan and I start spontaneously singing along to the lyrics; it was one of the more emotion laden moments of my life.

I could feel the eyes rolling in the back seat the whole time.

It was great.

I've also discovered that I've been living alone for way too long.  I need to do some research and find something to help me restore my patience (which was always in short supply) and develop a better ability to focus my attention in the moment (without the usual elevated intensity of martial arts/shooting practice).  I train to keep my mental focus during crisis events; there ought to be something similar for relaxed conversational settings and the like.  There's the occasional time when it's desirable to be a competent asshole, sitting around with your family ought not be one of those times though.

About That Retirement Thing ...

Once I discovered the actual amounts involved, I realized that, while I can live comfortably enough this year, by its nature "retirement" lasts the rest of your life and the amounts involved didn't permit a lot of confidence for 10 years out (never mind the actuarial life span numbers).  So, dis-engagement from the .gov borg is underway and I am so looking forward to 4 more years of active employment.

My employer's opinion was not solicited, but so far the weekly checks keep not bouncing.

Happy Birthday To Meeee ...

62.


Given the inspiration for my pending retirement from my current employment, as well as my lifelong tendencies in general, I thought John Mellencamp's Authority Song would be most appropriate for this year: 


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wsEwK69LXjQ


If I can't be me* where I am, I'll go where I can ...


*Since "me" keeps changing, I expect I'll keep going 'till I can't.

More Updatedness

As mentioned here last month, I am retiring from my current place of employment.  My Social Security is set up to begin on 1 January, 2016 and my last day of work (on this job ... I am looking into an alternative potential option) will be 29 January, 2016.  My willingness to do the job correctly remains in place, but my supply of fucks to give is completely depleted.  I cannot fully express just how refreshing that circumstance is.  :)

Oh Goody!

Just got off the phone with the Holster Maker For The Stars and my two (count 'em, 2) new croc-a-gator skin Valkyrie holsters will be on there way to me towards the end of next week.

It's birthday and christmas all wrapped up in one.  Literally.

I am gonna be soooo stylin'!

So, 61

I don't really have a lot to say about the occasion, or I do and don't want to get into all that just now.

Mostly both, I suspect.

I have been having some initial success writing original fiction at Amazon Studios these recent months, and I do intend to write more on that come the day.  Right after I hit the "Submit" button.

Much like writing fiction that isn't painfully derivative, my sixth decade is proving harder to make headway in than has been my previous experience.  Yes, I know, nothing surprising there; it's discovering the distinction between the knowing and the doing that's the challenge I suppose, the realization that tried and true no longer gets you where it always has.  Finding new ways to do old things will be a feature of the coming decade I fear.

I don't really have a song this year, so something fun and motivational* (sorry about the ad and it will probably auto-start).

*It's my perspective; deal with it.

Ouch!

Second day back at work yesterday and the seat support thingee I bought didn't help me make it to the end of the shift as well as it seemed to Monday.  Paid vacation for a day or two until I can put together a more effective lower spine support for use on a forklift truck.  Already sent the money to Amazon after I got home from work for attempt No. 2.  A couple different designs of L-spine/abs braces and a small seat pad to alter the angle I sit on the seat.  If this doesn't work I spend the hundred bucks for the pro-model seat back cushion, I guess.

There certainly seems to be real science behind all of this technology design, but I'm not doing any of it.  Vitamin I stacked with codeine will get you through the night though.

XP-less

Spent much of the day moving out of WinXP.  Well, sort of and mostly - if some casual passerby should happen to point out where/how I can put my established email account (Outlook Express) (don't judge) onto Win7, I could complete my escape and would snivel much less in coming days.  I resorted to the (temporary, damnit!) measure of moving most of my favorites/bookmark list onto the blog, so there's some added content to wade through.  Maybe you'll find something of newish interest.

It was a terrible day to go outside anyway.  Thunderstorm(s), inches of rainfall, the day's high temp was 51F and only got there after the wind dropped.  Can't say I'm actually excited to go back to work Monday, but my banker is looking less nervous and I have to pay for all this new technology I'm likely mis-using. 

Wellville Update

To re-cap; on Sunday the 19th of January I developed lower back pain that extended down the length of my left leg.  On the following Monday (January 20), this was diagnosed as bursitis since X-ray revealed no physical abnormality to my back and pelvic region.  The next day, I was seen by the first available orthopedic specialist who determined there was no medical cause for my symptoms revealed so far (he specifically ruled out bursitis) and he scheduled me for an MRI which took place the next day (Wednesday, Jan 22).  The following Tuesday, 28 Jan, the orthopedic specialist determined I was suffering from a stenosis of the L-1 and/or L-2 vertebrae, which basically means a narrowing or constriction of the channels through which the nerves run causing nerve pain (which has the attribute of expressing as pain almost anywhere the given nerve extends or "transmits" to/from).

Simply as a result of who I saw first for pain treatment (the Urgent Care doc-in-a-box alternative to the Emergency Room), I ended up going to the wrong specialist.  No one's fault as such; everyone involved sought the best treatment for me as the information they had available indicated.  My personal physician has now taken the lead position on my treatment, as would have occurred from the outset had this not transpired on a holiday weekend.  He has arranged for me to begin physical therapy starting this next Tuesday (that would be Feb 4 for those keeping score at home) and for me to be seen by a neurosurgeon, although that doesn't happen until Thursday Feb 13.

I've been off work this entire time and getting the Sickness and Accident insurance payments going is a slloooww process.  I'm in no danger of starvation, especially when you take the appetite suppression qualities of codeine into account, and the bills are all being paid still, but I'm actually looking forward to beginning PT if only for something to do.  Anyone who has been treated by a physical therapist will recognize just how extreme my level of boredom must be. Also, poverty (the money to pay for stuff is coming from my money to do things account).  First world problems all.

I expect to be off work for several more weeks at best.

I'm tempted to whine that "it never ends", but in fact it does and that alternative invites not at all.  I'll wait (and work) for "gets better".

I Blame JayG

I've been following along via JayG for a few months now as the Elio Motors motorcycle/car continues its development process.  A two-seat tandem vehicle that features a 60 hp 3-cylinder engine powering the 3 wheeled vehicle (which is what technically makes it a motorcycle).  80+ highway mpg (45+ city) out of an 8 gallon tank.  Fully enclosed cabin with A/C, power windows/locks, 3 air bags, 15" rims ... a lot of features for a $6800.00 price tag.

I just now put $500.00 down on my all in order for the first actual new vehicle I've ever bought.

Claimed delivery window is 4th quarter 2014 so I can hope for a birthday present.  The factory is an hour or so east of here (it's actually closer than the nearest planned dealership is) so I will definitely be exercising the factory pick up delivery option.  Texas doesn't require a helmet and is one of the many states that doesn't require a motorcycle endorsement (for this particular vehicle type) on the driving license too.

Haven't really settled on the basic options yet, but I'm leaning towards the silver and black paint job with the 5-speed manual transmission.  I'm also more than likely going to use the company's "credit card financing" method instead of the more traditional methods.  Basically, you buy gas at triple the pump price and everything over the actual fuel purchase amount is applied to your remaining balance in lieu of a regular loan payment.

Come on Jay, get on the list with me and share the anticipation frustration.  :)

A Bump In The Road To Wellville

This past Sunday afternoon at about 4:30 I started feeling pain in my left hip.  Within an hour, I was almost in tears.  On Monday, I went to the Doc-in-a-box where I was irradiated and given codeine for pain.

This resulted in a man in great pain who was also high.  Not there fault, it was all they could do.

Other than get me an appointment with an Orthopedic specialist for the following day.  Whimpered my way there on the Tuesday expecting a "hip shot" (injection into the hip region) of cortisone and whatnot to resolve the pain and begin therapy.

When you go to an expert, you don't get to tell him what he finds wrong with you.  IOW, there's nothing medically wrong with my hip, thus no hip shot for pain relief, but I did get a much bigger bottle of codeine and an appointment for an MRI the following day.

That same afternoon I did get in to see my usual Doctor and he was able to look over everyones notes and accumulated work (x-rays and the like) and he thinks that, along with some arthritis developing in my lower back and pelvic region - not surprising in a man of 60 years, some hopefully still-minor damage has occurred to a disc in my L-spine or that possibly something else has pinched the nerve running down into my left leg.

Wednesday, I went to get the MRI.  I've had one before for my knees.  Surprising to me, a spine scan is less complicated than one of the knee; only took about 20 minutes, even with the do-over toward the end when I had to move or wet myself.  Something else I discovered - when in a building that contains an active MRI machine, don't bother texting anyone.  Your message(s) will eventually go through, but the (increasingly irritated) replies will all appear on your phone in a cascade of bloops and beeps once you get into the more usually constructed portion of the building, like reception say.  I wasn't taking notes at the time, but either the electronic symphony coming out of my pocket or the sight of me madly choking down drugs while whimpering my way toward the water fountain will likely get you looked at in a concerned fashion by everyone else too.

Just saying.

The ortho guy won't be back in town 'till next week, so I get to spend the next several days looking at the clock to see if my morally ill-prepared self control is stronger than the pain-addled rest of me (the label says "every 6 hours", which so far means my life still has unfulfilled aspirations as of yet) along with ice packs wedged dangerously close to the groinal region, resulting in sporadic (not to mention hasty) inspections for testicular frost damage.

So, I'm never not in pain and I'm too high to do much of anything more demanding than move the blue ice pack somewhere a little less close to my urinary tract.  I failed to mention that I did get a course of steroids to keep track of along with all the rest.  I'd forgotten how steroids make one urinate so much more frequently.  Levitating up out of bed from yet-another nap with one leg in agony and the other in cramp is not an experience I can recommend.  Note to self: just drink more water, you're too high to know if you're thirsty or not anyway.

I am told that there are good non-surgical therapies these days even if it turns out to be a ruptured disc in my spine.  I resolutely refuse to speculate, mostly because doing so requires too much mental horsepower.  I'll know more next Tuesday.

Fun Show Today

Going to the local gun show today.  Not really expecting to see much of anything I'm really interested in actually buying, but we'll see.  This ain't the Indy 1500.

Would like to find a new Kel Tec PMR30.  Won't pay more than MSRP for one and would hope to dicker a deal for a gun and three spare magazines for ~ $500 Obamabux (plus the Governor's gratuity, of course - place wouldn't function without that).

I've gone over the Lucky Gunner ammo price list to use as a buying guide reference.  The ammo shortage is basically over, but we'll see just how far down the retail chain that message has gotten.  Some .22 (LR and WMR), .223, .308, .45acp and 9mm are all on the look-for list, but only if I can't get it delivered to my front door for the same price instead.  That's my version of the "immediate gratification" value of an ammo purchase (or most any other these days).  Me and Jeff Bezos have a relationship don'tcha know?

Maybe I'll find something to inspire a follow-up post.

Me, Me, Me, Me, Me

Just back from the local hospital's ENT specialist; Ive had a "scratchy sounding voice" for a couple years or more.  Frankly, I just kinda assumed it was a by-product effect of having quit smoking a few years ago, but figured it was worth a look.  Literally.

Laryngoscopy lets the MD do a direct visual exam of the larynx while you use it (the letter "e" was popular for some reason).  I am pleased to announce that there is no sign of anything looking remotely cancerous, so there's that.  Me being me, of course, there actually is something gone adrift though.

If you follow the wiki-link above you'll see an illustration of the human throat/larynx on the R/H sidebar.  The parts labeled cartilage are what the muscles of the throat use to regulate the vocal cords (I'm probably saying this badly, but that's the gist of what I remember the Doc saying).  In my throat, one side of the cartilage is bent in a "U" shape such that it covers the upper aspect of one side of my vocal cords.  The Doc thinks I may not be using that side of the voice box at all.

The last time I took a shot (fist, I think, but it could have been an unbroken beer bottle) to that part of my throat was in the mid-ish 80's, so I have my doubts the two are all that related.  Whatever the cause, there definitely is something out of kilter in my vocal regions (which oddly offers little comfort - or balance - to my nether regions).

The nearest laryngology medical specialist is a fellow in Dallas, so I'll be getting to know him just as soon as I confirm that the health insurance will pick up most of the tab.  I already know the hotel stay will be on my own dime, I need to learn more about our policy as regards out-of-region specialists and the like.

So, crappy voice is due to physical deformity and not cancer.  It's always something, you know?  The view from here may still be kinda crappy, but so far I've gotta say 2014 is looking up.

Well, down really, but you know what I mean.  :)