Sunday, November 12, 2017
You can kiss ole George goodbye.
He was great as a Father to our country. He was courageous as Commander of the Continental Army, when they ran King George’s redcoats back to England.
He performed wisely as our first President. Washington’s dignified leadership tempered the contentious impulses of our first politicians, Jefferson, Adams, Hamilton, et al.
As a legendary figurehead of American leadership he has served well for over two centuries.
Young George’s honest admission about the cherry tree incident still inspires us to honesty and integrity.
But as the face on the dollar bill, his days are numbered.
Most of your purchases are (are they not?) far beyond the 1-$2 range. And, think about it, what can you buy with a dollar bill these days? A sugar drink at a convenience store? Probably not. They’ll supersize you into greater quantities of go-juice with your gas and you’ll be whipping out the plastic stripe.
These days all that used-to-be-money is just swiped stripes and inserted chips and electrons flowing around the globe.
And that old greenback—what is it really? Used to be a silver certificate, then a Federal Reserve Note. Now the Fed has got the legal tender’s stability all figured out, so that the value of a buck walks a fine line between what it was last year and a what the CPI will allow you now.
Which isn’t as much as it used to be.
So these days we have, and have had for quite a while now, a comfortably numb currency inflation. That Federal Reserve Note in your pocket appreciates at a predetermined rate of 1-2% per year, and this calculated depreciation compensates for the variability of our paper dollar’s value since we ditched the gold/silver standard back in the 1960’s.
But I think this waffling Dollar will be with us for only a little while longer.
How much longer?
Washington’s greenback will probably float around until such a time as BrettonWoods doth move against Dunce’nGame for the last time. Then the weight of the world will be too much to bear. Tensioned Tectonic shifts in the world’s monetary plates will render our legal tender to disability status, and those Federal Reserve Notes slipping in and out of international accounts will no longer be the world’s reserve currency.
’Tis then the Treasury will nudge Ole George into retirement. He’ll be on Social Security like the rest of us, with direct deposit, never even seeing the checks, never handling the cash, merely reaping the debit presence of those positive credit numbers. ’Tis then they’ll gently compel Ole George into retirement. Maybe they’ll give him a gold watch for old time sake.
So long, George. We’ve felt so fat and happy having your pocketbook visage to enable our consumer shopping excursions. Your accomplishments have been Notable, expansive and historic, like Norman Rockwell scenes from our magazine covers and dime store excursions in all those bygone petrol-fueled Main Street purchase excursions.
Fare thee well, George. But I’ll never forget the smooth, crisp feeling of your fibered texture between my digits. Ah, those were the days, the dollar days! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2KODZtjOIPg.
King of Soul
Friday, November 10, 2017
On this Veterans' Day 2017, I say to all men and women who have served our United States as soldiers and workers in our armed forces, Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines, Coast Guard, National Guard. . .
Since you have served us, at risk of life and limb, and then lived to tell about it, please know that we are glad you made it through your dutiful missions, still alive and kicking.
We consider it a good thing that your name is not carved into this wall.
But we also consider it good that your service is recorded in the annals of our history. You were recruited to defend our freedoms. You answered the summons that many of us resisted. You did your duty. In so doing, you defended also the freedom of many people throughout our troubled world. Thanks for your courage in doing that.
Sometimes we prevailed in our immediate mission; sometimes we did not. Nevertheless, our collective mission as defenders and exemplaries of liberty remains intact because of what you have done.
And are still doing.
Especially all you Vietnam Veterans. You chose, or were compelled to, defend us and our way of life while so many of us were lollygagging around in the blood-bought liberty that you have assured us.
Especially to all you Vietnam Veterans, I offer to you the greeting that my friend, Jim Shoemake, himself a Vietnam Vet, tells me is the most precious message of all:
Keep up the good work.
King of Soul
Sunday, October 29, 2017
I don’t know how I ever did it.
Looking now outside my window at the coming
Remembering those many years of
in the cold, going out in the gray
layering the clothes and the resolutions:
Get it done,
Get this house built for these good people and then
and another one, day after day, week after week, month after month,
after year, cutting, sawing, nailing, flailing, sometimes
to have a good attitude, like right now. I don’t know
I ever did it.
It couldn’t have been me that
Must have been someone else who
someone else who went out into that cold, someone else who is
than me because I am not
Surely it was someone who knows more than I
about how and why and when and where all this seasonal cycle and this
fits together into some kind of sense. And now I
that I can not do it again, cannot
through another winter, even though it is easier
At this moment it doesn’t seem easier because . . . well I don’t know
But I do know this. I do
that someone else will have to
do it now, because looking out there just now with the snow flurries I can’t see
I could have done it, or how I can ever do it
Someone else will have to
from here onward.
King of Soul
Saturday, October 21, 2017
Maybe four or five thousand years ago, some pondering poet raised these two profound questions:
Who taught the sun where to stand in the morning?
Who taught the ocean: You can only go this far?
In the modern world we know just how ridiculous it is to suppose that any one person could teach the sun anything, or that any person could establish the boundaries of the oceans.
So I hope you can accept that the words above, translated from the biblical “Job” represent a figurative, or allegorical, statement about creation.
In our modern, post-Copernican, post Galileo way of viewing the world, we understand that our evolving knowledge requires a different approach to answering such large queries.
Who has successfully explained to us where the sun stands in its solar system?
Who changed the ocean in a way that would cause sea levels to rise?
Having posed these ancient questions in a modern context, we could, in our vastly expanding database of knowledge perhaps answer them this way:
History shows that Copernicus and Galileo figured out the centered position of the sun, and concluded furthermore that the planets, including our earth, revolve around it.
And, as for the question of where and by what means the oceans terminate their relentless wave action on our shores, I notice this: the question is currently up for debate.
Could it be that we ourselves are rearranging, by our consumptive habits, the boundaries of the oceans?
There are many studies now being done to determime where the oceans’ coastlines are now shifting as a consequence of our Homo sapiens-generated emissions. Data-collecting scientists are finding that our Carbon emissions have a deeper impact on nature’s processes than any other elements.
This makes sense; it fits into a larger pattern. Carbon, number 6 on the Periodic Table Table of Elements, is the most essential and ubiquitous building block of life itself.
Therefore, the real question becomes . . .
What’s a human to do? Those danged Carbon atoms that float around like phantoms wherever they damn well please, like they own the place—you can’t live with ‘em, and can’t live without ‘em!
One ostensibly scientific scenario in particular—that one generally referred to as “climate change”— is moving, or appears to be evolving, toward a “scientific” consensus of some kind about the accuracy of our grim projections about what will happen to us in the future.
In the wake of a consensual international agreement to address this problem, we may work together to contrive a world-governmental plan to minimize carbon (and other) emissions. We would begin thereby to arrest the human-generated heating up of our atmosphere, and possibly prevent our polar ice from melting, and oppose the destabilization of our rising sea levels.
We do not want to see more flooding of coastal cities. Otherwise, in the wake of our global consequences . . . there could be trouble ahead.
Now when potentially cataclysmic trouble arises in human civilization, there are generally, among the inhabitants of earth, three different ways of addressing such a huge conundrum.
One way is the way of positivism, which says: We can fix this damn thing if we’ll put our minds to it!
Another way is the way of fatalism, which says: This place is going to hell in a handbasket. We’ll never get around this!
The third way is simple to deny that there is a problem.
Now this writer’s perspective is located somewhere between these three viewpoint poles (or polls).
I have, since my youth, thought we should find ways to quit polluting our earth. Furthermore, I am not yet convinced that carbon emissions is the biggest challenge. There are other substances which are far more destructive and poisonous. I would like to think we can fix this thing, but on the other hand, human behavior, with its boundless abuses and thoughtless excesses, is so absolutely an irreversibly huge force of constructive destruction momentum.
We might have a snowball’s chance in hell, or
We might get it together as a species and solve the problem. Good luck with that!
My problem with the positive approach is this: a true fix (reducing carbon emissions from a 2% rate of increase to a 0% rate of increase) would require an oppressively extreme rearrangement of our institutions and our collectively escalating consumption habits. For the sake of the holy grail of saving the planet, a control-freaking totalitarian government would surely overtake our best intentions and thus turn the required regulations into a tyranny of police-state restrictions. By this means we would sacrifice our freedom upon the altar of saving the planet.
Malicious manipulations of human ideology have already spoiled our postmodern aspirations at least once or twice in history. Stalinism and Maoism overtook Marxist Socialism and turned it into a systematic monster of human oppression.
With such dystopian historica precedent as evidence, my hope of establishing a human/governmental solution to neutralize our climate change problem tops off at next to nothing.
Furthermore, the revelation of the “faith” camp into which I was born, and then born again, acknowledges that we are all sinners on this bus (planet).
We need, both individually and collectively, someone to save us from our own destructive tendencies. But who might that person or entity be? I say it is the one who conquered death itself by rising from the tomb.
Consequently, my leaning toward the fatalistic position on climate change convinces me to turn to divine faith to solve my own problem of what to do with the life that was given to me. My conclusion is: Rationalism and its positivistic proposals will never save us from ourselves and our consequently rising oceans.
So count me in the irrational camp, more appropriately referred to as the faith camp, although I will, every day, in every way possible, assist in our our recycling and solarizing efforts in any way I effectively can.
Now I conclude this little trail of assessment and analytical adventure with a video of Sister Nicole’s rendition of our condition.
Tuesday, September 5, 2017
Saturday, September 2, 2017
‘T’was about two hundred year ago that the world tilted toward changing at an exponential pace.
The advent of the steam engine had a lot to do with this. Imagine, for instance, what native American tribes, living primitively, must have thought about the first locomotive when they saw a big huffn’puff thing speeding toward them along the steel track.
It was a terrible sight to behold-- belching steam and screaming along across the landscape like it owned the place.
And in terms of world history, that wasn’t so very long ago. We humans have definitely picked up the pace of our progress.
We’ve come a long way since those groundbreaking days of the steam locomotives. Back in those early techno times our big deal was extraction. By means of steam-powered locomotion we extracted vast amounts of resources from vast landscapes for a vastly long time and then we transported those extracted elements vast distances, to industrializing cities where they were converted into vast products that were sold and distributed to vast markets of people whose consuming habits were fastly becoming vast.
All this vastness was enabled because our new powering technologies made everything happen on vastly larger scales, and in vastly faster timetables.
Eventually, the trains went the way of the buffalo when our cars and trucks began to roll off mass-production assembly lines and then all across the globe. Before you knew it, everybody and their brother were driving around via internal combustion vehicles of one type or another, spewing carbon emissions and additives and whatnot all around the globe.
Because so many people had jumped onto the industrio-techno bandwagon we found ourselves with vast labor markets which consisted of vast numbers of people cranking out all these vast inventories of consumer goods and services.
That whole industrial revolution thing wrought the humanic world into being a carbon-belching machine. After a century or two it has become an emissions-emitting perpetual motion device. But nowadays our whole vastly spinning automaton of techno progress is being re-evaluated. For the sake of equality-based prosperity, those vast labor markets are being tweaked by office-loads of technocrats who want to do what is best for mankind. But in a world of expending (used to be expanding) resources, it becomes more and more problematical to keep everybody busy in production.
By ‘n by, for management purposes more and more folks have become involved in producing information, so we can be smart about stuff. Information used to be stored in libraries, but now is stored in digitized files. Our terminology has morphed. As we used to shovel dirt and ore and coal and whatnot we now move vast loads of information. For simplicity sake we now call it info. Furthermore, as our exponential changes are happening at a vastly stepped-up pace we have spun into calling it “data.”
We notice that, while the world economy used to run on vast extractions of elements, it now runs on vast iterations of data. And if you believe that, I’ve got some swampland in Houston I’ll sell ya.
But I digress.
In our 21st-century techno-world we have generated vast hordes of data-analyzers, experts, number-crunchers and technocrats, whose mission is to keep everything cruising along on an even keel.
Their informed consensus is that we need a steady state, which eventually morphs into a steady State. Old style capitalism is dead, y’all.
The most potent example of this trend is the Fed.
A century ago, we had banks that were fervently financing the great industrial expansion. Now all the banks have become mere bit-players; the real mover and shaker is the Federal Reserve, the financier of last resort, as they are moving vast file-loads of reserve fiat currencies around the world the way JP and John D used to move their earth-shaking investments.
Now the Fed keeps it all humming along on an even keel, not too fast not too slow. No more boom or bust, no more depressions, but rather one long macro-recession/expansion whereby we perpetually power the world economy at a predictably stable theoretical 2% expansion rate so as to assure that the main characters have assets to pass around like peace pipes and, along with that, generally everybody has a job to do so we don’t have too many folks fall into non-productive dependency on the system.
Good luck with that, y’all.
Therefore, let us henceforth have everybody producing something, but not anything that will aggravate the emissions hockey-stick curve. Let’s keep the proles fat n’ happy—or, excuse me—fit n’ happy, if possible without deepening the carbon footprint, lest we fall into deep sh_t.
A good way to do that is convert everybody to being producers of data instead of them being producers of carbon-spewing autos and such.
In olden days we had vast factories where workers cranked out trains and trucks and autos and washing machines and TVs and then microwaves and computers and now data and data and data and more data.
So now the world runs on data, don’t you know. And if you believe that I’ve got some swamp land in Houston I’ll sell you.
But I digress.
How ‘bout I give you an example of what it means to be living in a blahblah new world where our collective assets are studiously maintained by tweaking technocrats.
Check out this data from an analysis of labor/welfare incentives in Europe, posted last week by Daniel Seikel.
“If it were true that employment is the best route out of poverty, including in-work poverty, then, logically, the share of working poor should at least not increase if there is significant employment growth. The combination of employment growth and increasing in-work poverty suggests that activation policies might shift poor jobless persons/households to poor working persons/households. Therefore, it is necessary to analyse the effects of different labour market policies on in-work poverty. In particular, what impact do the different elements of activation policy – conditionality, re-commodification and active labour market policies – have?
In theory, two effects are possible. First, active labour market policies can improve the qualification of job-seekers and enable them to get better paid jobs. This can lift formerly poor households above the poverty threshold (disposable household income below 60 percent of national median income). Second, the demanding elements of activation – strict conditionality and a high degree of re-commodification – can force unemployed individuals to accept job-offers even if the pay-levels are low. In this case, the income of the successfully activated might be too low to lift the household above the poverty threshold – poor unemployed would become working-poor.
That’s true, Daniel, I suppose. I’ll take your word for it. But whatever happens, however all this turns out, I can see we’ve come a long way from
In the olden days, the command was:
Move that barge; tote that bale!
The new program is:
Tote that phone; send that file!
This is progress, and this is what progressives have called for. It's no wonder the outcome is Twitter, in which all the complexity of former times is dumbed down to 140 bits or pieces per event.
Good luck with that, y'all!
Sunday, August 27, 2017
When Alt-Right and Alt-Left clash in furious altercation it’s time for all parties concerned to alter their attitudes.
And I’m tired of all these Alt-whackos vying for attention; aren’t you?
Although I may be operating in an alternative universe to even suggest that all these rampant extremists could ever allow themselves to agree on anything, I nevertheless assert that anything can happen and occasionally does.
I mean, we almost split up about a hundred and fifty year ago, but the advocates of American unity prevailed and we managed to overcome the great divide that almost split us asunder.
So really, to split up now after all we’ve been through would be asinine.
Also, it would be un-American.
So I’m hoping we can assemble any alliance we can assimilate to alleviate this awful divisiveness. I mean, even Alt-Center would be better than what we got now. And a little altruism wouldn’t be a bad idea either.
Can we find some agreement here? I mean, my daddy used to say it’s hard to remember when you’re ass-deep in alligators our objective was to drain the swamp. The Alt-Right politicians said they wanted to drain the swamp. And I know that idea has a lot of allure for folks who want to stir up the pot, but you gotta remember in a free country some folks would rather smoke the pot than stir it up.
We all just gotta get along here. You hear what I’m sayin’? We gotta find the allowable limits of all this alternating Alt-ism, Alt-this and Alt-that and then we gotta adjust our attitudes so as to lower the altitudes of aggression before it’s all over.
I mean, in ancient time when things got this bad God allowed an alluvial disaster to alleviate all the alleged bad stuff that was going down at that time. So lets’s not forget that a rising tide lifts all boats. Yeah, and I say unto thee: all aboard that’s goin’ aboard. And if you believe that I’ve got some alluvial deposits in Arizona I’ll sell ya.
Let's make a deal; it's the American way. We're always dealin'! Dont' let yer deal go down.
Are you trackin’ with me here? The climes they are a-changin’! I’m a-tellin’ ya, And things are gonna heat up real quick if’n we don’t align ourselves with the planetary potentiary powers of of political Alt-centrism. And not only that, let's allocate some good ole fashion common sense, y’all; send it to the Appropriations committee.
So let’s adjust these attitudes, what’dya say?
Think about it this way. If’n you get the alt-extremist notion to call somebody an alt-asshole just check it at the door because them’s fightin’ words, and also because everybody has one so why call it to everybody’s attention!. Instead, you could allay the fears of all parties and both so-called Parties by just, instead of inciting to riot, advancing toward some kind of advantageous alliance instead of a big all-out alt-ercation that degenerates into some freak goin’ bonkers and drivin’ a car into a crowd of Alt-leftists, even if they are Antifa.
Doh ray me fa. Anti-Doh, Anti-ray, Anti-me, Anti-you, Anti-fatherhood, Anti-motherhood, Anti-apple pie, baseball and even Anti-Chevrolet!
I mean I’m from Ford country. On a quiet night you can hear the Chevys a-rustin’. Nevetheless, I love all you Chevy-idiots out there? Come on, now! Group hug. Stop and smell the Anti-roses.
Serially, though, What’s it all coming to? What’s it all about Alfie?
I mean, these days seems like everybody and their brother is anti- something, but I am posing the question here and now—just what are for? What the hell are you for? Are you FOR anything? Motherhood and apple pie?
On the other hand, now that I think about it, I ascertain that even Motherhood is on the choppin’ block now, with all this trans-this and trans-that, trans-he and trans-her, trans-he-she-it.
And if you wonder what I’m alluding to, think again. I appeal to our better angels. But if you can’t attest to all that, just fuhgeddabowdit. We’re done here. Maybe it’s just me.
I prob’ly need to see my analyst.
I’m just upset because I’m over-reacting because I’m allergic to Altism of any kind, left or right, liberal or conservative, fascist or communist; and I think if the Chileans could get past the Allende v. Pinochet debacle then we can overcome this whatever-we-got now ascent toward Alt-assininity.
What we the need around here is some dam prayer. But if you can’t allow that, if it’s against your constitutional sensitivities and asininities, just let the cards fall as they may; we’ll play politics awhile till the altercation blows over.
We’ll let the cards fall as they may, if that’s the way it must be. Let the prize go to the highest bidder.
I bid four hearts.
And your bid is what?
Four no-trump, you say? For no-trump?
Well ok then. We’ll see how this plays out.
But wait! What light through yonder window breaks?, methinks I hear the strains of a faraway refrain:
“Through the Altists’ red glare,
with taunts bursting in air--,
it gave proof through the night
that our freedom was still there!
Oh say! that star-spangled banner does yet wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!”
King of Soul