For the Record, Scale Check

It's a new low weight. A full pound lower than the last achievement, 251.5 vs. 252.5.

An astute observer will notice that this photo was taken in a location that's different from the place where I usually do my weigh-ins. Indeed, I'm housecatsitting at the moment, and that's actually the floor of the main bathroom in my hosts' house. Being in a different living arrangement--which will continue for another month or so--has been helpful, to say the least. Easier to stay away from bad influences here.

What's also significant here is not simply the number, but when the number showed up. Here in late August is normally when I would have, in previous times, figured that the losing season was just about up, and that there was not likely to be much progress from here on out. But last year, I acheived a new low reading late in the year, sometime in November if I remember right. And I have other motivations pushing me at the moment (mysterious, I know; maybe I'll tell you all about it sometime), so I'm anticipating getting my weight down even lower before the holiday calorie-packing season really gets under way in earnest.

So good news, and there's still promises of better news on the horizon. Cool.

(By the way, I actually got a 249.5 reading a few days prior to this, but that was a cheat; I weighed myself after exercising and on a cavernously empty stomach, not the official "first thing in the morning" weigh-in, so that one doesn't count. But it was the first sub-250 reading I've seen since...frankly, I really don't know since when. Early in 2001? Probably. I can't wait to get the chance to post an official sub-250 pic on a future scale check; hopefully before the end of the year.)

Taylor's Laws

An occasional series in which I promulgate certain laws of nature, to help us better understand the universe around us.

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Taylor's First Law of Social Motion

For every action there is an opposite, unequal, and stupid reaction.

Explication: A fairly straightforward principle derived from basic observation of the social media sphere. Any thought or idea presented on social media, however minor in importance and innocent in nature, will be met with a reaction that is disproportionate in its scope and negativity.

Neomedieval Times

For many years now, I've been in the camp that believes we are heading into--indeed, that we've already entered--a new medieval period in Western history. (And, since Western history is--after the European/American conquest of much of the world in the last century and a half--now basically world history, this applies to everyone everywhere.) I would suggest that future historians will probably mark the beginning of this "Neomedieval World" as having happened either in 1989 (the fall of the Berlin Wall), or 1991 (the collapse of the Soviet Union), or perhaps even 2001 (the September 11 attacks). Whatever comes to be the agreed upon date, it looks like the future world will look back on these days as the beginning of a new middle ages for the world.

I bring this up today, June 25, 2016, because we are still in the immediate wake of the UK's "Brexit" referendum, and it just occurred to me that the vote to leave the EU goes along quite well with the overall scheme of order in a Neomedieval World. After all, one of the characteristics of the original middle ages was political dissolution throughout Europe. The unity that was the Roman Empire dropped to the floor and shattered into almost innumerable pieces back then, and the straining that is fracturing the EU--which I've seen referred to as the highest peak of European unity since the Roman days--may lead to just the same sort of patchwork of kingdoms and principalities that ruled and shaped Europe for a thousand years during the first medieval period.

This desire to create break-ups and increase political fragmentation will not necessarily end with the UK leaving the EU. There's already some talk about a "Texit" hitting the United States, with Texans possibly angling to secede from the Union in one way or another. (I'm not sure how that would work--previous attempts to secede did not go well, as you know--but I wouldn't dismiss the matter out of hand, either.) More likely, other members of the EU may seek to leave the union now that the UK has shown the way. It's not out of the question that the whole thing could collapse in the coming years--and we're not talking about decades, either.

What will be the consequences of such a dissolution? Hard to say. But given the history of the continent, and the contours of history that the medieval world presents to us, it's quite possible that neomedieval Europe would see its multitude of states in competition and conflict with each other. (The same would apply to a dissolved former U.S.A.--or any other place in the world where fragmentation and Balkanization might occur. An American break-up may seem out of the question to some, but I'm not the first to have imagined such a thing.) In other words, war is a possibility in at least some parts of Europe, as it was back in earlier medieval times. If you're holding a passport and want to go see Paris and/or Rome, you might want to book your trip sooner rather than later.

If things do dissolve into war, over whatever issue might lead to violence, that would certainly give greater validity to the whole Neomedieval World idea. After all, most of the attributes of the medieval world--endemic violence, political fragmentation, severe polarization based largely on religious identities, and loss of knowledge and lowering of the education level of the general populace--are already in place now. We've just seen the political fragmentation in play; religious polarization has been a daily topic ever since 9/11; and this country's ongoing education crisis is providing the biggest thrust for the loss of knowledge and education level in the populace (which never got super high in much of the world outside the wealthy West anyway). Violence has remained endemic in most of the non-elite parts of the world; if tensions between former EU partner states rises to the point of actual armed conflict on the continent, then that chicken will have come home to roost in Europe, too.

So the Brexit vote may be just one more step down a path that began a couple of decades ago, a march that seems to be leading us back to a future in which a great deal of what we have come to see as the modern world may be lost, at least for a period of time.

How long a period of time? No one can know, of course. But one hopeful thing to consider is this: whatever the nature of the next few years, or decades, or centuries, one thing we have consistently seen in our recent history is an acceleration of the pace of change. So while the original middle ages lasted roughly a thousand years in Western Europe--almost evenly split between the Dark Ages and the High Middle Ages--there's a good chance that the Neomedieval World will run its course over a much shorter period than the previous medieval incarnation. And then a Neoenlightenment may usher in a new, better age of human history.

At least we can hope that's how it goes.

Insanity and Stupidity, Defined

Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.
Albert Einstein  

It is noteworthy that the quote given above is attributed to Albert Einstein; apparently, it takes a recognized genius to get this quote right and actually understand its meaning.

I have heard that line, or something very similar, quoted time and again to define "insanity." The problem often arises when the quote is subtly changed; the line is often misquoted as:

"Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result." (emphasis added)

This formulation is in error. Notice the difference at the end of that statement versus the one at the top. "Expecting different results" versus "expecting a different result." That minor change from the plural to the singular may seem innocuous, but in fact it changes the entire meaning of the statement, and indeed changes the statement from a definition of insanity into a definition of a different mental condition: stupidity.

Let's break this down. In both cases in question, the perpetrator of the dubious action commits the same act: he does the same thing over and over again. Nothing changes there. Whether you're stupid or crazy, you will apparently engage in repeated behaviors as a matter of course.

This repeat performance without variation tells the observer something about the perpetrator's state of mind--the question is, what does it tell us, and how? That depends upon the object of the repeated action. Changing the object of the action--doing the same thing over and over again, but with a different set of expectations for the result--defines either insanity or stupidity, depending upon those expectations.

When the expectations are focused on a singular outcome--"and expecting A DIFFERENT RESULT" (singular)--this is a hallmark of stupidity. This becomes clear if you consider a likely scenario for this test. Imagine a perpetrator who has been asked to perform a task similar to a classic IQ test assignment: place the correct peg in the correct hole. Someone who takes a square peg and tries to place it in a round hole of similar diameter is destined for disappointment. If that someone continues to try to place the square peg in the round hole, despite previous failures--because he apparently expects that a square peg somehow should fit into a round hole--then that individual displays a distinct lack of ability to learn from previous experience. That is the very essence of stupidity: inability to learn. In this example, there is one specific goal in mind--fitting the square peg into the round hole--which is never achieved, and that fact is never grasped because of the subject's inability to learn.

Things are different when the expectations change from repeated action to repeated action. When the perpetrator performs his deeds "EXPECTING DIFFERENT RESULTS" (plural), the equation changes. Now the subject repeats his action not due to a lack of learning from past failures; each time the actor performs his action, he does so with a brand new set of expectations for the result. The first time he tries to fit the square peg in the round hole, he may expect it to simply fit. The next time, he assumes the round hole will grow to accommodate the square peg. A third time, he may believe the peg will change shape, or simply disappear the instant it meets the edge of the hole--or any of dozens of other possibilities. Hence, different results. Expectations in such a case are untethered from the specific reality of a square peg not fitting in a round hole; in the perpetrator's mind, anything can happen, each and every time he tries the repeated action. Being detached from reality is, of course, the very definition of insanity.

Thus, when we encounter someone who does the same thing over and over again, determining the repeat actor's expectations for the results of his action is vital to figuring out if the person in question is stupid or crazy. If said person makes a clear declaration that "I will do X, and Y will result" and the continues to do X despite Y never occurring, you can make a pretty safe bet that that person is stupid. Otherwise, without that clear declaration of intentions and expectations, the individual who performs that same action repeatedly without ever getting anywhere--that individual is most likely insane, or at least not entirely in full possession of his proverbial marbles.

What this case study shows is how important it is to get your terms absolutely correct. Being sloppy or lazy with the language--shifting a singular to a plural, or vice versa, without fully comprehending the implications of the difference--can hinder understanding of what's really going on in this world, especially when a formula like Einstein's quote is casually tossed around by people who are not themselves "Einsteins." Modifying one letter--changed and then shifted within the phrase--can make for an entirely different meaning, one that the speaker never intended and that the listener will never fully understand.

Such are the perils of a lack of precision in using the language.

A Treatise on the Nature of Beauty

I've given a lot of thought to the nature of beauty over the years. Not because of anything I see in the mirror; far from it! But because I recognize--in a way that many people do not realize, or rather do not acknowledge--that beauty has an overwhelming influence on our lives: how we live, who we are, who we are allowed to be, where we fit in in this world (or this society, at least).

We use many words to describe beautiful people. Men are generally characterized as "handsome." We resort to a much broader range of terms when women are the subject: gorgeous, lovely, pretty, cute, alluring, ravishing...when it comes to female beauty, you could fill a thesaurus and the tremendous number of synonyms for what we call beautiful.

I've come to believe that the reason we have so many terms for a female beauty is as an acknowledgement that there are different kinds of beauty. Everyone who is good-looking is beautiful, but beautiful people come in different flavors, so to speak, and those different flavors affect the observer in different ways.

(An aside: Let's get one thing straight--beauty is NOT in the eye of the beholder. Beauty is one of the most rigidly defined aspects of human existence.

Studies have shown again and again that the symmetry and proportions of the human face determine how that face is perceived as beautiful or not. If you don't believe that, just drop a few words in that search bar up at the top of this window and you can find those results. [Here's a starting point: http://legacy.jyi.org/volumes/volume6/issue6/features/feng.html ]

Even when somebody declares as beautiful a person who is not, according to the common understanding of that term, that declaration is usually made to make a point--to engage in a certain amount of iconoclasm for one reason or another.

Individual tastes vary, for one reason or another, but if you ask a broad swath of observers to judge the beauty of this, that, or the other person, the vast majority will agree, whether the answer is yes, no, or meh--and if it's yes, that answer will apply to people so similar to other "yes" examples that researchers have developed masks that define a beautiful face based on the averages of such proportions.

Beauty, to put it bluntly, is mathematical; it's geometric. It is not a subjective experience.)

Insofar as most people acknowledge these differences, they tend to categorize those variations as part of a hierarchy. Meaning: the woman who is "pretty" is more beautiful than someone who is "just" "cute," and so on. However, I have come to believe that this is NOT true; the different flavors of beauty are perceived as such, but they do not relate to each other in any kind of tiered ranking. "Cute" is not inferior to "pretty"; it's just a different kind of beauty, one that--in the correct circumstances--can have more impact on the person perceiving it than the other varieties of beauty.

According to my theory, there are three primary forms of beauty. Two of these forms were immediately obvious to me, almost as to be self-evident: the aforementioned "Cute" and "Pretty." Most observers intuitively recognize a beautiful woman as being either of these categories (assuming she does not fall into the third, as yet undiscussed category). This discernment is most likely a culturally ingrained reaction, a thought process that most people have inculcated into their perception from a very early age. (Evidence suggests there's also innate discernment; studies with babies have shown differences in infants' reactions to different (in symmetry/proportion) faces.) How people react to a cute woman versus a pretty woman depends upon circumstances--and, most likely, individual preferences and experiences.

What qualities constitute these first two varieties of beauty?

Cute is that version of beauty that is approachable, youthful (of course, all beauty has a heavy youth bias), perhaps even babyish. Cute, due to its approachability, shows up a lot in TV commercials.

Pretty is something more classical, a more idealized beauty than Cute--one that is nevertheless somewhat commonplace. Or perhaps its better to say Pretty is not rare; we see Pretty all the time, every day, even as we highly value it in the world around us. Beauty queens, high school homecoming queens, girls who work as greeters in restaurants and other businesses--you see these typical examples of the Pretty type all the time, all around you.

And the third category? What is the proper term for that third variety of beauty? Indeed, what is that third variety of beauty? How does it differ from Cute and Pretty?

For a long time, I used the term "gorgeous" as the descriptor for this class of beauty--but mostly as a mental placeholder, since I knew that "gorgeous" is not the right term for this third variety. ("Gorgeous" does more to describe the viewer's reaction to the beautiful person; it does not really address what that person's beauty is.) The third variety of beauty, as can be gleaned from the use of the term gorgeous, is more superficially striking than Cute or Pretty; these beauties are often some somewhat exotic. One can fairly characterize this third class of beauty as rarer than the other two; it is the type of beauty that one typically sees in models, especially the more famous and sought after models (the somewhat ridiculous term "supermodel" is often apt).

It was that connection to modeling and fashion that led me to the best label for this third variety of beauty: "Glamorous." Note that Glamorous derives from glamor (or glamour), the old name for a magical spell. This is most apt, as Glamorous beauty is the most spell-casting of the three--a striking, forceful, perhaps even mesmerizing kind of beauty that almost demands attention, and often leads to its avatars being placed upon a pedestal.

That rare and elevated character of Glamorous beauty probably creates much of the inclination towards seeing different varieties of beauty as steps on a hierarchical ladder; i.e., Glamorous lives at the top of the ranks above Pretty, which is itself a step above Cute. However, this thought model does not reflect reality particularly well. As noted above, individual reactions to different types of beauty differ widely; the relative approachability of the Cute person may make her more valued in the eyes of some individuals, who at the same time may see the lofty nature of the Glamorous one to be too unreachable for his or her tastes. Bad experiences in the past with a Pretty type may lead an individual to devalue others of the same type versus those who fall into the other two categories. Other scenarios can be imagined which would switch the relative rankings of any of the three varieties up or down the ladder according to an individual's personal preferences.

Thus, it is best to view the three varieties of beauty as co-equal in the eyes of the world at large. A chart may help visually define the relationships between the beauty types:

Some notes about the beauty chart:

The three varieties of beauty can be seen as a subset of the beauty class as a whole. As in any Venn diagram, it is possible--indeed, with beauty (and human variability) it is a certainty--that some parts of the interior sets will overlap. The upshot of this is (in practical terms) that there are some people out there who are both Cute and Pretty, Cute and Glamorous, Pretty and Glamorous. The very center of the diagram marks those lucky few who--through some remarkable combination of genes and the observer's biases--present (to some extent) all three of the varieties in their persons. I placed Kate Upton there in the center, since she seems to be today's foremost exemplar of all the varieties of beauty rolled into one person.

Note too that the overall set, Beauty, contains not just the three standard varieties but also some subset(s) that fall outside of any of the standard categories; within these bounds you would find those relatively rare birds who embody unconventional beauty (but still meet with the approval of wide swaths of the population), and perhaps those other outliers mentioned above (those who are declared to be beautiful in the service of iconoclasm--maybe even those individuals who make themselves attractive to others not by physical perfection, but through sheer dint of will and personality).

Finally, note that the placement of the categories (Cute and Pretty above, Glamorous below) is arbitrary--the chart can be rotated any number of degrees around its centerpoint and still be representative.

In conclusion, it may be best to recognize one particularly important implication of this intellectual model for beauty: while some of us may be condemned to a lesser status for possessing in our persons little to no physical beauty at all, those who do have one form of beauty or another are not destined to a position inferior to other beautiful people. In other words, if you're Cute, you're not doomed to a lesser life than a Glamorous type. Nor, if you're Pretty, are you necessarily better than a Cute person. Different strokes for different folks--that tends to be the order of things, even within a subset of the general such as beauty.

No Appreciation for Depreciation

You hear it said all the time: "I would never buy a new car, because the value depreciates by a huge amount the moment you drive it off the lot."

This bromide has been repeated so often that it has become an honored bedrock constituent of conventional wisdom. Most folks who hear this sentiment will nod their heads in agreement at the worthy who spoke these words, and will swear to the heavens that they too would never buy a new car, lest they also see their car's precious valuation drop like a bird struck dead.

There's just one problem with all this: it's stupid.

I don't deny that a new car's value immediately decreases as soon as you've bought it. That's undoubtedly true. It's just that it doesn't really make much difference if your vehicle's value immediately drops by several hundred, or even thousands, of dollars as soon as you drive it. Why would it? Presumably, most people who buy a new car expect to keep that car for an extended amount of time, probably for many years. In that scenario, why would you care if the car you bought for $22,000 is now only worth $19,000? You're not planning on selling it anyway. Why do you need to make sure that you hold onto that extra three grand in value? Are you a junkie gambler and need to use your brand new car as collateral on some desperate bet? Will your bookie only accept a car valued at $20,000 on your parlay? If that's your situation, you've got bigger problems than your car's depreciation.

Value drops off sharply at first, but after some time the rate of depreciation is going to slow down (assuming you take care of the car reasonably well). The car you buy new will lose value quicker than the same car from two model years before purchased new or used. But in eight years, when the new car is eight years old and the earlier model is ten years old, which will have more value? As likely as not, it'll be the one you bought new, though probably not by much; both cars' values will approach each other as they get older and older.

Some will object that the valuation matters for insurance purposes; that is, for premium purposes and for what you'll get on a claim if the car is totaled a week after you drove it off the lot. Premiums will always be higher for a newer--that is, higher value--vehicle. But at least one insurer--Liberty Mutual--specifically advertises a policy of "one year newer" replacement for stolen or wrecked cars. Other insurers probably have similar policies, and if they don't...well, more business for LM. Bottom line: insurance is hardly a reason not to buy a new car, if you can afford it (both the car and the premiums).

The "depreciation problem" thing is one of those examples of something that stupid people hear and they agree with it because they think it sounds like wisdom--except, of course, they're stupid, so what do they know about wisdom? This matter, like many other examples of conventional wisdom, falls apart when you think it through.

Now, if you want to lease a new car...well, you're on your own there.

Jogging Your Mind, and Hand

I had an insight recently. Put most people in a meeting, or any similar situation, where they're sitting there with a pad of paper and a writing instrument, and most of those people will start doodling on the paper. Usually, we interpret such doodlings as evidence that the person with the pen is bored. However, I've come to suspect that that's not true.

I think that when someone starts doodling in such a situation, what he or she is actually doing is something similar to running in place. Joggers run in place when they are not moving forward, such as when waiting at a stoplight, but want to keep themselves at the ready and on their toes for when they do get the green light to go again. Doodling performs a similar function during note-taking situations: it's a way to keep your writing hand revved up and ready to move while there's nothing to note, so that you can quickly jot down your notes when there is something worth writing down.

Thus, it's unfair to accuse the doodler of being bored or not paying attention--he's actually paying attention and keeping his hand at the ready for the task ahead.

Not the most earth-shattering insight, perhaps, but it's an example of how everyday actions, when interpreted from another angle, can turn into something radically different from what we've always assumed them to be.

Time Flies When You Can't Remember Why Time Flies

I'm shocked and appalled to discover that it has been damn near three months since I posted anything other than a movie review to this blog. Not coincidentally, for most of the last two and a half months I've been working almost full time five days a week--something I had not been doing since 2009. No wonder I've been so tired, and distracted, and thwarted in most of my efforts to be doing what I want to do, rather than what I'm required to do.

It is my sincere wish that all that will change soon. I think I'm just a week or two from working out the details on how I may be able to keep on working but have more time for the good stuff--an arrangement that, if it works out, will probably radically transform my current situation. Let's keep our fingers crossed.

In the meantime, I invite you to enjoy a few recent movie reviews, posted at the right under their usual place. Keep watching the screens...

Taylor's Laws

An occasional series in which I promulgate certain laws of nature, to help us better understand the universe around us

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Taylor's Vehicular Follicle Law

Any luxury car, when being driven with at least one passenger accompanying the driver, will contain at least one blonde person.

Explication: This law is described purely from observational sources. Having lived in enclaves frequented by luxury car drivers for many a year, I can attest from personal witness that this law is true. Why this circumstance is the way it is, is probably an exercise best left to the intelligence of the reader. The socioeconomics of blondness being what they are, this is almost axiomatic, in an a = a sort of way. Nevertheless, this law is worth recording for posterity, if nothing else. Note that the blonde person in question need not be the passenger; it is only necessary for there to be at least two bodies in the vehicle for the law to be operative. (It is entirely possible for a solo luxury car driver to be raven-haired; but if said person is accompanied by a passenger, that passenger will be blonde.)

Route of Lesser Evil

I was recently discussing my bicycling exploits with several folks here and there, and describing my current typical route seemed unsatisfying. Most folks who live around here probably got it in general terms, but even so it may have been a bit unclear on the whole dimensions of the thing. So I got to thinking: why not show instead of tell?

The result of that thought is sitting above: a composite, courtesy of Google Maps, of the length of my now typical standard route, marked in red with arrows to show direction of travel. Click on the map above for a full sized view (your browser window may or may not show the full pic in one shot; you may need to right-click and choose "View Image" to get the 100% view).

Most of the trip runs along the same path, but towards the end--where I've been stretching out the distance lately--the route follows a loop instead of a simple out and back. I'm not sure what the total distance is; I know that from Alamo Plaza (starting point) to downtown Danville, where the trail crosses the boulevard, is almost exactly 3 miles, so 6 miles to there and back. The total distance of the attached loop is a bit of mystery, but I know the leg of the Iron Horse Trail that goes under the freeway is .71 miles, and that part below Sycamore Valley Road (to Paraiso) is almost half a mile by itself (.43 mile, to be exact); so the full loop has to add at least 2 miles to the total. So the total round trip must be something just beyond 8 miles. If I'm feeling good that day, and the weather's good, I usually take around 57 minutes to complete the circuit.

I don't know if this impresses anyone or not. I know it impresses me, considering that last year at this time I rarely went beyond that point where the trail crosses the boulevard. My fitness has certainly gotten better, thanks to the lengthier workout, and as noted in the previous post, my weight has now gotten down to a number I haven't seen since 2003, at least. "Best physical condition in 10 years" is something worth crowing about, I think.

So there it is. Hope you're impressed.

Ace in the (Memory) Hole

I guess we really do change over the course of our lives. I recently had one example of my changing tastes/moods/whatever confront me in an unexpected way: I no longer listen to the Adam Carolla show.

This came as something of a surprise to me. I have been listening to Carolla regularly ever since the "Loveline" days back in the late '90s. I was on board from the start when the Aceman moved to morning radio back in the middle of the last decade, and I joined him on his post-firing journey into the new medium of podcasting--of which he has now become one of the leading impresarios, if not an actual new media mogul. I even read his first book. That's a long history as a relatively devoted follower.

True, I never bothered much with his television ventures like The Man Show or Crank Yankers (the former just never interested me, the latter--puppets acting out crank phone calls--should have passed without comment just for stupidity alone). And it is also true that I never kept pace with Carolla's output; once he moved his gig into downloadable territory, I invariably fell further and further behind the recent stuff, until my most recently listened to episodes were dated nearly a year behind the newest postings.

I guess that should have been a clue. Obviously, if I couldn't be bothered to listen frequently enough to keep current, the value must not have been all that great in my eyes (or, if you will, ears). Yet, I had been behind before, and made catch up efforts in the past. So why did I feel the need to abandon Carolla now?

My gut tells me to point the finger at the changes I've heard in Carolla's show in recent times. (I can't say how recent, because, remember, I was listening to year old shows by the time I pulled the plug.) For one thing, the promos just got overbearing; each episode of the podcast suffered from heavy intrusions of commercials for products that I would never bother buying. For the most part, I'm OK with someone making a buck for his efforts, particularly when he is supplying a product that has no price. But sometimes it seemed that the frequent commercials were damaging to the flow of the show, enough so to sap away the entertainment value. Let's face it: patience is a limited resource--test mine, or anyone else's, at our peril.

More troubling, perhaps, has been Carolla's ever-greater tilt towards right wing politics. One guest I recently heard on the show was some guy--I don't remember his name, and feel unmotivated to look it up, for obvious reasons--who wrote a book trashing the Occupy movement--a favorite target for Ace's ire. Carolla has long had a fairly conservative bent on many political issues (to be fair, he's relatively liberal on other, especially social, issues). I've heard him make comments with which I disagreed before--but, having done my own homework on Occupy and other issues, and knowing the fallacies embedded in Carolla's view of these issues, I found listening to his erroneous diatribes ever more tedious. Also, I started to suspect that some of his guests were not being booked "organically," but were coming at the direction of outside forces. (Carolla's affiliation with radio host Dennis Praeger may represent the nexus through which the "right wing echo machine" has recruited another outlet.) I can be forgiving when the intellectually lazy Adam Carolla forms a judgment that lacks a certain amount of depth; but I'll be damned if I'm going to be played for a sucker and drawn into listening to Fox News farm team players on the sly.

(An aside: Carolla's intelligence is a frequent butt of his jokes, but the man isn't dumb. He is, however, an untrained intelligence. Adam's strength lies in what he can diagnose through direct observation; anything that requires examination beyond surface details often leads him astray. That is the weakness that makes some of his rants tedious to listen to and undermines the show's quality.)

Perhaps worst of all, as the guest roster grew to include more junior league Hannity wannabes, fewer and fewer guests came on who really had something meaningful to offer. Comedians, once a staple of the show, largely faded from the guest roster. By the time I dropped my subscription to Carolla's show, it had been months since I had heard Dana Gould or Greg Fitzsimmons or any other comics on the show. While I get that it may not be possible to bring in one time staples like Joel McHale--he's grown too big for the show, of course--it would have helped immensely if Carolla's staff had made the effort to connect with the next round of up and coming entertainers, instead of bringing in people who just had a book to sell, or a political axe to grind (or most likely, both at the same time).

That lack of entertaining guests, I think, points to the tragic truth of why I had to dump Carolla's show: it had just gotten so boring. Each episode played out with such a sameness to it; the same rants, the same characterizations of the same people, a sameness to the tone of Alison Rosen's news...hell, even Bryan Bishop's drops--long an entertaining staple of the show--had grown repetitive and stale. The Adam Carolla Show has become, to use the hosts own oft-applied expression, fucked out.

Is there a larger implication in this act of mine? Probably not. I doubt that others are feeling the same way about the show as I do. The show still rides high on the iTunes charts, and once they're hooked, people will keep listening to/watching the same damn show for years regardless of quality. (For example, just look at all the ridiculously long-running series on TV these days.)

And now that I think about it, I'm not even sure my abandoning the ACS reflects any real change in myself beyond, perhaps, a sense that I no longer have time to waste on anything not really interesting to me. I don't seem to have missed the show since I formally stopped listening and deleted all the downloaded shows. (I have also deleted his website from my "Sausage Factory" at right; I can't in good conscience provide a link to a product I won't listen to myself.)

I guess all I'm really saying is, things change. A lesson none of us may have needed, but one that should not go unheeded. So it goes.

No Contest: The Real World Wins Hands Down

Lately, I've been on a run selling my old CDs--not because I've grown tired of my music, but because I no longer have the space to accommodate 100+ discs and their containers. At first I went the online route, selling my discs via sites like "selldvdsonline.com" and "mx123.com." (I'll name them, but I won't provide links, for reasons that will become obvious below.) I thought using the online sites would be an advantage to me: you enter the disc's bar code for pricing, so you know right away whether a disc will sell or not--no lugging any duds to the store; the online vendors pay for shipping, so it's just a case of packaging the order up and getting to the post office; and (important for people-shy types like myself) you don't have to deal with any of the music store weirdos face to face. Seemed like a good way to go.

The mad monk is your friend

Alas, not so much. While it is true that I was ultimately able to make approximately $37 selling old, unwanted CDs online, the process was a pain in the ass.

Many CDs were rejected out of hand, because the bar code did not show up in the vendor's database.

Packaging the orders meant finding a suitable box, packing the discs properly, and securely sealing the box--and then I still had to get the thing to the post office. Not horrendous, but still a pain.

But those issues paled in comparison to the actual process of completing the sale. The worst indignities came after the vendor received the order. Of four separate orders sent by me, three of them had "problems" according to the vendors.

In two cases out of three orders sent to selldvdsonline.com, the vendor informed me that a disc was "missing" from my order. This despite the fact that, by their own assessment, the package seemed undamaged, and I certainly had no spare discs lying around at home. I was particularly assiduous about double-checking the order after the first "missing" disc issue. The fact is, I KNOW that each order included all of the intended discs. But who's going to haggle--long distance--over 25¢? In both cases, the payment I received was marked down by the value of the "missing" discs.

Worst of all was my experience with the execrable mx123.com. It took almost 10 days for them to acknowledge receipt of my order. After several days with no payment, I had to nudge them via email. This led to a response telling me that my order had "quality" problems, that several of the prices for my discs would be marked down because the discs or packaging did not meet their standards. (Funny, the other place never had a problem with the quality of my discs.) Again, I was told I would be paid "within 3 business days." It was only after the fourth business day, when I was ready to send another, considerably angrier email, that I received my payment. And finally, to add insult upon insult, my payment was reduced by 57¢ for PayPal's transaction fee. (None of the other payments from the other site--or indeed, any other payment I've ever received via PayPal--had a fee deducted from them.) I feel lucky to have gotten away with any money at all from those turds.

Contrast those experiences with what I got when I took two grocery bags full of CDs to my nearest Rasputin outlet. I had some trepidation about taking a big chunk of my music collection into the store at once, but two paper grocery bags full of discs (had to be about 70-80 CDs all told) was no problem for them. I had to wait while the (very friendly) clerk went through my discs one by one to assess prices, but the experience wasn't at all uncomfortable. Ultimately, I was offered $55 cash for my discs--without any of them rejected for "quality" reasons. (They offered $63 store credit, but I didn't take that, since I had other things to buy.) The entire process, including the drive to the store, probably took no more than 45 minutes, I got rid of my CDs, and I walked out of the store with $55 cash.

It was no contest: the real life, bricks and mortar, actual building on the street Rasputin store won hands down over the online outlets. I only wish I'd gone there sooner. If you find yourself in the same situation, got some music or movies or such that you'd like to sell, give your local store a shot. You'll be glad you did.

Somnambulance

I am more than a little bit sad, frustrated, and nonplussed that this is the first post I've written in a month for this blog. I would give the tired, weak, and frequently quoted excuse that I just haven't had the time to make any new comments here, but that just doesn't cover the story. The plain truth is that, while I do seem to be the busiest part-time employed, work one day a week person on the planet, that's not what's keeping me away from Malchats Matters.

I think the grim reality has more to do with my living arrangements than anything else. It's now been six months since I broke down the most recent Heavily Fortified Bunker and moved in at my mom's place, and the erosive--indeed, corrosive--effects of that household set-up have been grinding down on my sense of having my own life. This is, after all, a touch of cyberspace that is designed to be a virtual adjunct to my life--and with the life I call my own squeezed down into such a narrow space in the real world, it makes perfect sense that I wouldn't have much to add to the Internet annex.

For one thing, the current set-up allows little time and space for me to do much reading; thus, very few Recently Read editions. Given mom's virtual monopoly on the main TV, watching movies has become a null program. (I have been re-watching old episodes of The Simpsons [seasons one through four, so far; now into season five] on the computer in my bedroom; that has taken away time and space that could be devoted to films.) And I suppose I just haven't been as active an observer on the scene as usual, and thus not so much a commentator on that scene.

But beyond all that, there's simply the fact that all I really think about these days is how much I hate the current arrangements, and if I were posting here regularly, all I'd really be doing is bitching about that. And, of course, that's exactly what I DON'T want to do. It's what I hate about most blogging to begin with (as well as its twisted virtual baby brothers, Twitter and Facebook): the false, narcissistic, unmerited belief that anyone gives a shit about the minutiae of your life. That's not what Malchats Matters is all about, despite the title. I want to express thoughts, and occasional feelings, about things that are relative to, but outside, my own life--not just wallow in my own filth. Perhaps, if I'm lucky, one of my sent-out resumes will strike literal pay dirt, and I'll have the chance to redevelop my sense of the world beyond my own (basically nonexistent) plot of earth.

Until such time, I ask for patience, both from myself and any reader who happens to stumble upon this Internet backwater.

Weirdness, Baseball Edition

This is an odd thing: the baseball season has arrived, and I did not publish any kind of preview prediction thing. It's the first time in several years I have not bothered to put together a prediction sheet. It's not that my life is too busy right now, per se, but I seem to have little time to spend on activities that are not "must do" actions. Nevertheless, I'd like to say a few things about the new season, just to put a few observations down for the record.

Most notable right now, several teams got off to very good starts. The Dodgers came flying out of the gate, while the Nationals, Cardinals, Rangers and Tigers have all impressed in the early going. Some of these starts will be meaningful in the long run, but I'd caution any fans of these teams about getting too excited just yet. There's a muddled record for fast starting teams achieving ultimate success; especially teams that were nowhere just last season, and are now pushing the envelope in April.

That may mean trouble for Washington. They have talent, but it's young talent, and those are the kinds of ballplayers who play well when they're playing well, but then have trouble bringing themselves out of the tailspin when the slump comes (as it inevitably will). I also retain my prejudice against St. Louis; championship or no, I remain convinced that that team isn't as good as recent results suggest. (They will, however, benefit from playing in an obviously weakened division this year.)

Conversely, Texas has made a believer out of me. You can't go to the Series two years in a row, then come flying out of the gate the next year, and not convince the doubters. I think they're in it for the long haul. I expect the Dodgers to stick around, too; their fast start suggests that their struggles the past couple of seasons represented artificially suppressed output, due to the toxic scene caused by the ownership fiasco. Detroit will probably stay up there, too, but I'm less certain about that.

On the other side of the coin, I'm worried about the team of my youth, the Phillies. They're scuffling even with their superior pitching, and that worries me. Injuries in the offense should have an impact, but even so a set of starters that good should keep you winning games. I'm not writing anything off just now, but check back with me in June, and the answer might be different.

There's a smell around the Angels, too, just now, and that might linger as well. Yes, Pujols will eventually hit his usual share, but I get the vibe that that team, for whatever reason, is less than the sum of its parts, and has been for a few years now.

As for my local nines, both teams look a lot like "four games over .500" teams this season--and that will play very differently on either side of the bay. An 83 win season will not find many friends with the Giants, but that feels like their ultimate destination. They just have that one step up, one step back feel to them, despite their own high expectations. Conversely, finishing over .500 will be hailed as a triumph by the Athletics, should they get that far. Everyone was very down on them going into this season, but as of this writing they're one game over .500, with almost half of Manny Ramirez's suspension in the books. That may turn out to be a non-trivial matter; if they hold their own for the next 30 games, and then get a little more juice in their lineup from MR's presence, the A's could turn into a very big surprise. Again, get back to me in June.

Finally, whither the eternal questions about the Red Sox and Yankees? Since there can never be any baseball discussion anymore without those two teams in the mix, we must address the issue. The good news is, I think the results of the last couple of seasons have worn away the veneer from these two teams. The Yankees look good, but not that good. Meanwhile, Boston just reeks of bad medicine. Worst of all--for these two teams; it's good for the rest of us--the mystique has been dissipated, and rest of the AL East has just about caught up. The Rays are legit challengers, as always lately, but even the Jays and the Orioles aren't afraid of the big two anymore. I think that erosion just might be enough to send one, or even both, of these teams packing come the end of the regular season. And a big sigh of relief for that.

Keep watching this space for more baseball related insight, or at least baseball related whining.

My Life

Just read an extremely interesting article on AlterNet, Would We Have Drugged Up Einstein? How Anti-Authoritarianism Is Deemed a Mental Health Problem. It reads like a summary of my own life. In a minor sense, that is--I know I'm no Einstein, but I've definitely always had an issue with authority. The money quote:

Many people with severe anxiety and/or depression are also anti-authoritarians. Often a major pain of their lives that fuels their anxiety and/or depression is fear that their contempt for illegitimate authorities will cause them to be financially and socially marginalized, but they fear that compliance with such illegitimate authorities will cause them existential death. 

I wouldn't say I have severe anxiety or depression. But financially and socially marginized? Check. Fear of "existential death." Check.

I've said many times over the years, my take on psychological prescription drugs amounts to, "Here, you become a drug addict so the rest of us can stand to have you around." I first had that thought about 20 years ago, and I've seen nothing to change my mind on the subject since. And it is encouraging to see written words that, in some small way at least, back me up. Be careful whom you call crazy...or even a problem.

Authorship

Be it here announced that I have just published the third work of writing to go into my collection on Scribd. The latest piece, Bunts, Baseball, and the Virtue of Small Steps, is a study/rumination on baseball and life, and strategies thereupon for both. It's a brief little essay, and hopefully worth a few people's time. Check it out, if you feel like it (follow the link above).

Pigskin Flux Capacitor

I've often ruminated on why I hate sports. Occasionally, I've even put those thoughts into print. But I also have ideas about why I love sports, too.

Most notably, I've often thought that sports are perhaps the only source of tangible, objective reality we have available to us. Everything else is so subjective, so wrapped up opinion and perspective: music is good or bad, according to your taste; food is delicious or awful, depending upon what you like; even history and its facts are subject to interpretation. As noted many times before, there are lies, damned lies, and statistics. We live in a universe built on quicksand.

Not so with sports. Sure, there are points of disagreement, especially when discussing all-time greats. But for the most part, sports present us with a simple, objective reality upon which we can all agree. One team or competitor wins, the other loses. A game that ends 6-3 is a game that ends 6-3. Not much argument there. In a world of shifting sands of perspective, the sports fan can read the final score and stand steadfastly anchored on solid ground. Sports, in this way, can be a reliable and comforting antidote to all of life's other uncertainties.

So much for that. Yesterday, a fresh, brand new idea--another reason to love sports--popped into my mind, courtesy of the San Francisco 49ers.

Time-travellers Vernon Davis and Jim Harbaugh
Photo courtesy oregonlive.com

Yesterday's dazzling win by the Niners over the Saints has stirred up a feeling that has not been seen around the Bay Area in a very long time. Many folks have drawn comparisons to 2002, the last season when the 49ers made it to the playoffs. The game-winning throw and catch by Alex Smith and Vernon Davis brought back many memories of a similar playoff-winning TD in 1999.

But for me, this run by the 49ers is reminiscent of their original Super Bowl team in the 1981 season. Like the 2011 model, Bill Walsh's first championship team came out of nowhere, after several years of abysmal failure. They too sported a 13-3 season record, yet went into the postseason as decided underdogs against traditional playoff heavyweights like the Cowboys, whom they beat in the conference title game. If the current edition of the Niners makes it to the Super Bowl, they will have dispatched not one but two recent champs to get there.

But even if they lose on Sunday, the 49ers will have accomplished something that has solidified in my mind another reason to love sports: time travel.

The only real form of time travel we have available to us is memory. The only way we can go back to yesterday--or yesteryear--in any sense is through our memories of those past times. And, as noted above, the 49ers' victory has proved that sports can provide a powerful vehicle for evoking those memories.

Maybe not as powerful as Doc Brown's suped-up Delorean in Back To The Future, but at least as powerful as any of the other sources of memory recall we can experience. Art can stir up those memories of the past and bring one a sense of days gone by. Food can do it too. Music may be the most powerful vehicle for evoking that sense of past times and places. And now, I can attest from these past 30 or so hours, sports can perform that same magic as well. The memory of what it was like when I was a kid, when Montana threw that ball to Clark, has been surprisingly strong this weekend. And someday, someone who is a kid today will be able to travel back to this time, when athletes not yet born will make a play with an uncanny resemblance to what Davis and Smith hath wrought on Saturday.

Small wonder then, given its power to evoke such feelings in its adherents, that sports can continue to thrive the way it does, even in the face of all that is so desperately wrong within its purview. Today it may be just a game, but in thirty years today's game, tied to another game in the future, will be a connection to our lost youth, and a window into a lost world.

Psychic Ability

I've been thumping this drum for about a week and a half now, so I figured I'd cowboy up (pun intended) and set it down with a date and time stamp so everyone will be wildly impressed when I prove right: I think the Eagles are going to win the NFC East. I see them winning their last two games, the Cowboys losing their last two games, and the Jets putting the Giants out of our misery this coming Saturday. A long shot, I know, but I think it's more probable than some might imagine, and I want to get out in front of it. So there--I set my prediction down in black and white (or whatever colors you monitor is showing right now). We'll see how it goes...

Calls of the Wild

The children of the night...
such music they make.
(Photo courtesy wikipedia.org)

So here I am, staying at my Mom's place in the old folks' village of Rossmoor, and every night about 1 or 1:30 I get to hear a brief symphony from the local coyotes.

This is not exactly new to me; I heard the coyotes howling plenty of times during my residence at my apartment in nearby Lafayette. But these late episodes bring something special to the scene: a certain wonderfully ominous character to them that strikes my ironic funny bone in a most peculiar way.

You see, it's basically winter out there (not by the calendar, but for the Bay Area, this is pretty much it as far as that season goes). And you have all these old people holed up in their boxy little apartments, while outside a band of mini-wolves is howling at the door. It's like a theater in the round version of a very odd Russian play. Next thing you know an army will march through and seize everyone's grain.

Yeah, I know it's not much, but in these trying times I have to amuse myself with what I've got. Check back in next week when I'll be house-sitting and enjoying more leisure time with myself for something more entertaining.

Mobility

Once again, for the second time in three years, the Heavily Fortified Bunker has been broken down into Lego sized boxes and stored away, leaving me temporarily homeless for an undisclosed amount of time. This is an unfortunate circumstance, to be sure, but yours truly will endure. And maybe, now that the move is accomplished, I will have more time to dedicate to posting items here on my cyber-home. Selah.