Saturday, April 23, 2005
We've all heard the joke about a guy who dreams that he's eating a 25-pound marshmallow, then when he wakes up his pillow is gone. Now, personally, I never quite understand how that qualified as a joke to begin with. But after a particularly restless sleep, I woke up one morning to find that I had taken the pillowcase off my pillow, and laid it neatly across the top. I ask you to consider: what kind of a dream *was* I having?
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Vs. Man Machine Part 3
So humans will always be bribable, and computers, if they are halfway decent, will learn that bribes are the way of the future for the same reason they were the reason of the past: they make sense. The solution?
To be perfectly honest, I've never taken an economics class. So what I'm about to say is about as intelligent as what I have to say about, well, anything. But this, more than most of my rantings, is informed by scary dreams about supply and demand curves trying to eat me in my sleep. It seems like there's a rather fixed number of people who want to bribe (call them everyone) and a fixed amount of money that can be spent on bribing (everything). It seems like the problem is that, roughly, we're pushing "everything" into the hands of a relatively small number of "crooks". Every so often, these crooks are stupid and try to do things that, well, they deserve to be caught for. Clandestine immorality greases many a wheels of society; inept crime only loses limbs and sinks ships.
Instead, let us all accept bribes in exchange for, here's the key part, nothing. That's right: let's let anybody who wants buy our judges vacations: they deserve them. Encourage a mobster to send pizza to police stations. They can try all they want. But now that politicians are allowed to take Indians' money, instead of just their land, it'll be acceptable to renege (Indian-give) a promise to support a ballot initiative.
We can compartmentalize our corruption, and in so doing reclaim American politics by admitting it's dirty. Rent out the Lincoln Bedroom, but do it openly enough that presidents won't feel obligated to pardon the obviously guilty (you're still allowed to grant clemency to those technically felons, as long as there's some cause/institution/cross they claim to have been martyred for). Heck, the greatest example of this kind of dealing is none other than our former President William Jefferson Clinton. Walk up to him on the street and offer him 20 bucks for Social Security Reform. He will look you in the eye, speak of a bridge to this century, and promise you he'll work with Congress to ensure that yadda yadda and we'll utilize this and that, et cetera et cetera. And he'll be gone into the twilight of Secret Service protection before you can realize that he's just another middle-aged out-of-work man with a bum ticker living in Harlem who has as much chance of passing meaningful legislation as Harry Reid.
To be perfectly honest, I've never taken an economics class. So what I'm about to say is about as intelligent as what I have to say about, well, anything. But this, more than most of my rantings, is informed by scary dreams about supply and demand curves trying to eat me in my sleep. It seems like there's a rather fixed number of people who want to bribe (call them everyone) and a fixed amount of money that can be spent on bribing (everything). It seems like the problem is that, roughly, we're pushing "everything" into the hands of a relatively small number of "crooks". Every so often, these crooks are stupid and try to do things that, well, they deserve to be caught for. Clandestine immorality greases many a wheels of society; inept crime only loses limbs and sinks ships.
Instead, let us all accept bribes in exchange for, here's the key part, nothing. That's right: let's let anybody who wants buy our judges vacations: they deserve them. Encourage a mobster to send pizza to police stations. They can try all they want. But now that politicians are allowed to take Indians' money, instead of just their land, it'll be acceptable to renege (Indian-give) a promise to support a ballot initiative.
We can compartmentalize our corruption, and in so doing reclaim American politics by admitting it's dirty. Rent out the Lincoln Bedroom, but do it openly enough that presidents won't feel obligated to pardon the obviously guilty (you're still allowed to grant clemency to those technically felons, as long as there's some cause/institution/cross they claim to have been martyred for). Heck, the greatest example of this kind of dealing is none other than our former President William Jefferson Clinton. Walk up to him on the street and offer him 20 bucks for Social Security Reform. He will look you in the eye, speak of a bridge to this century, and promise you he'll work with Congress to ensure that yadda yadda and we'll utilize this and that, et cetera et cetera. And he'll be gone into the twilight of Secret Service protection before you can realize that he's just another middle-aged out-of-work man with a bum ticker living in Harlem who has as much chance of passing meaningful legislation as Harry Reid.
Monday, April 18, 2005
Gullibles' Travels
Having returned from my trip to France and Spain, and having rested comfortably in an undisclosed London flat before my return to Oxford, I thought that I'd take a minute to jot down 31 things which are true about the places I've visited:
1) In Paris, there is no such thing as 'speaking a bit of French', or 'kind of speaking French'. You either know their language or you don't. And if you don't, they won't have any of your stumbling gestures and awkward phraseology. They simply deal with you in English.
2) This refusal to let you butcher French stems from a deep-seated pathos which takes linguistic competence to be a measure of one's membership in a certain club.
3) Americans' offense at foreigners' incompetence in English issues from impatience; French offense at foreigners' incompetence in French issues from aesthetic disgust. For the American, you've wasted his time; for the Frenchman, you've broken his heart.
4) In the Louvre, one of the largest and most-frequented museums on the planet, housing art and artefacts from all corners of the earth, all the captions are in French. Thankfully, the signs telling you what you may not touch and where you may not go are translated into English.
5) The Eiffel Tower is NOT, as some would have it, a romantic figure. Nor is it a Romantic one. It is a monument of raw, metal-and-brawn Modernity. An unrelenting, inorganic labyrinth of Euclidian perfection; ultimately cold and rational, not wistful and nostalgic.
6) This being said, it is one of the most beautiful beasts hatched from Modernity's cast-iron womb.
7) If it's postcards featuring naked ladies of sundry stock and repute you're after, the banks of the Seine is where to get them.
8) Nice, on the Cote d'azur, is a beautiful town with rocky beaches, clear green water and sea breezes, delicious food and Provencal hospitality.
9) It is also the dogshit capital of the world.
10) If you stay at the Villa St. Exupery hostel, a converted monestary in the hills above Nice, you will come to understand that the fabled American backpacker class is very real, and comprised of individuals both younger and older than you think, whose ranks seem free of responsibility, well-fed and clothed, and more than adequately funded.
11) Many of them say things like "Venice is beautiful in a way I can't describe", as a preface to lengthy description of Venice's beauty.
12) Counterintuitively, the American backpacker does not embark on a tour of Europe in an effort to become worldly. Rather, it is his very self-perceived antecedent worldliness which for him justifies the tour.
13) During the 10 days of the film festival, the town of Cannes is marked by its exclusive shops, trendy restaurants, and slick cosmopolitan disposition, as a playground for the rich and famous.
14) During the 355 days between film festivals, the town of Cannes is marked by its exclusive shops, trendy restaurants, and slick cosmopolitan disposition, as a playground for no one.
15) If all of France were like Aix-en-Provence, then all the world would would want to be like France.
16) The street-corner t-shirt market in Western Europe is dominated by the twin pillars of Che Guevera and Iron Maiden.
17) If you've taken six years of high school Spanish, or minor in it in college, good luck in Barcelona.
18) Don't let the deliciousness of the paella you're eating, or the street-fiend who asks for a cigarette distract you when sitting in Plaza Reial in Barcelona. If you do, some guy selling model sailboats will run off with your favorite old backback which contains nothing but a bar of soap and a hardcover copy of an out of print book on Heidegger.
19) I'm just saying.
20) There are few favorite-old-packbacks and hardcover-copies-of-out-of-print-books-on-Heidegger in this world that a pitcher of sangria and a day on the beach won't help you forget.
21) I don't know if they had crack in 1881, but if they did, then Gaudi was on it when he designed La Sagrada Familia
22) Pamplona counts as proof that Ernest Hemingway knew what was best in life.
23) A hypothetical and a piece of advice: suppose Paz Vega is the bartender at a little joint off the beaten track somewhere in the mountains of northern Spain. She approaches you, and in her best broken English, asks you if you'd like some tapas, or (with a wink-wink) if you'd prefer some 'Tap-Ass'...Look, all I mean is its a tough call.
24) They don't tell you in your booking confirmation, but a lot of hostels close at midnight. Fortunately, park benches are open 24 hours a day.
25) The train from the Spanish border to Biarritz in France is 40 minutes.
26) It only takes you the first two minutes to realize that the long-held Fosterism--"the only good thing about French men is their close resemblence to French women"--is false. Frenchman aren't ther worst thing in the world. There are at least three worse things:
26a) Drunken Frenchmen
26b) Drunken soccer hooligan Frenchmen
26c) Drunken soccer hooligan Frenchmen from the region in and around Biarritz. In other words, BASK Frenchmen.
27) In today's communication age, a good way to avoid terrerist reprisals for insulting remarks is to misspell words like "BASK" and "terrerist"
28) When confronted by a coach full (+ - 75) of 26c who have made it evident that their desire is to fight you, a stout constitution and a healthy bloodlust won't cut it in the weapons department.
29) Some things that will:
29a) A claymore
29b) A claymore
28c) A flamethrower
28d) One of these, and a bunch of this
29) A Disclaimer: Of course, I wished no ill will towards any of my BASK brothers. I only wanted to read in peace.
30) I love the BASKS. As a matter of fact, I own a raspberry beret.
31) The difference between a vacation and a trip is, after a trip you need a vacation.
1) In Paris, there is no such thing as 'speaking a bit of French', or 'kind of speaking French'. You either know their language or you don't. And if you don't, they won't have any of your stumbling gestures and awkward phraseology. They simply deal with you in English.
2) This refusal to let you butcher French stems from a deep-seated pathos which takes linguistic competence to be a measure of one's membership in a certain club.
3) Americans' offense at foreigners' incompetence in English issues from impatience; French offense at foreigners' incompetence in French issues from aesthetic disgust. For the American, you've wasted his time; for the Frenchman, you've broken his heart.
4) In the Louvre, one of the largest and most-frequented museums on the planet, housing art and artefacts from all corners of the earth, all the captions are in French. Thankfully, the signs telling you what you may not touch and where you may not go are translated into English.
5) The Eiffel Tower is NOT, as some would have it, a romantic figure. Nor is it a Romantic one. It is a monument of raw, metal-and-brawn Modernity. An unrelenting, inorganic labyrinth of Euclidian perfection; ultimately cold and rational, not wistful and nostalgic.
6) This being said, it is one of the most beautiful beasts hatched from Modernity's cast-iron womb.
7) If it's postcards featuring naked ladies of sundry stock and repute you're after, the banks of the Seine is where to get them.
8) Nice, on the Cote d'azur, is a beautiful town with rocky beaches, clear green water and sea breezes, delicious food and Provencal hospitality.
9) It is also the dogshit capital of the world.
10) If you stay at the Villa St. Exupery hostel, a converted monestary in the hills above Nice, you will come to understand that the fabled American backpacker class is very real, and comprised of individuals both younger and older than you think, whose ranks seem free of responsibility, well-fed and clothed, and more than adequately funded.
11) Many of them say things like "Venice is beautiful in a way I can't describe", as a preface to lengthy description of Venice's beauty.
12) Counterintuitively, the American backpacker does not embark on a tour of Europe in an effort to become worldly. Rather, it is his very self-perceived antecedent worldliness which for him justifies the tour.
13) During the 10 days of the film festival, the town of Cannes is marked by its exclusive shops, trendy restaurants, and slick cosmopolitan disposition, as a playground for the rich and famous.
14) During the 355 days between film festivals, the town of Cannes is marked by its exclusive shops, trendy restaurants, and slick cosmopolitan disposition, as a playground for no one.
15) If all of France were like Aix-en-Provence, then all the world would would want to be like France.
16) The street-corner t-shirt market in Western Europe is dominated by the twin pillars of Che Guevera and Iron Maiden.
17) If you've taken six years of high school Spanish, or minor in it in college, good luck in Barcelona.
18) Don't let the deliciousness of the paella you're eating, or the street-fiend who asks for a cigarette distract you when sitting in Plaza Reial in Barcelona. If you do, some guy selling model sailboats will run off with your favorite old backback which contains nothing but a bar of soap and a hardcover copy of an out of print book on Heidegger.
19) I'm just saying.
20) There are few favorite-old-packbacks and hardcover-copies-of-out-of-print-books-on-Heidegger in this world that a pitcher of sangria and a day on the beach won't help you forget.
21) I don't know if they had crack in 1881, but if they did, then Gaudi was on it when he designed La Sagrada Familia
22) Pamplona counts as proof that Ernest Hemingway knew what was best in life.
23) A hypothetical and a piece of advice: suppose Paz Vega is the bartender at a little joint off the beaten track somewhere in the mountains of northern Spain. She approaches you, and in her best broken English, asks you if you'd like some tapas, or (with a wink-wink) if you'd prefer some 'Tap-Ass'...Look, all I mean is its a tough call.
24) They don't tell you in your booking confirmation, but a lot of hostels close at midnight. Fortunately, park benches are open 24 hours a day.
25) The train from the Spanish border to Biarritz in France is 40 minutes.
26) It only takes you the first two minutes to realize that the long-held Fosterism--"the only good thing about French men is their close resemblence to French women"--is false. Frenchman aren't ther worst thing in the world. There are at least three worse things:
26a) Drunken Frenchmen
26b) Drunken soccer hooligan Frenchmen
26c) Drunken soccer hooligan Frenchmen from the region in and around Biarritz. In other words, BASK Frenchmen.
27) In today's communication age, a good way to avoid terrerist reprisals for insulting remarks is to misspell words like "BASK" and "terrerist"
28) When confronted by a coach full (+ - 75) of 26c who have made it evident that their desire is to fight you, a stout constitution and a healthy bloodlust won't cut it in the weapons department.
29) Some things that will:
29a) A claymore
29b) A claymore
28c) A flamethrower
28d) One of these, and a bunch of this
29) A Disclaimer: Of course, I wished no ill will towards any of my BASK brothers. I only wanted to read in peace.
30) I love the BASKS. As a matter of fact, I own a raspberry beret.
31) The difference between a vacation and a trip is, after a trip you need a vacation.
Sunday, April 17, 2005
Dr. Foster's Dictionary: 17 April 2005
Today's entry from Dr. Foster's dictionary comes from the glossary of American colloquialisms, under 'f':
for·ty-fiv·er
n. slang
1. An individual, usually a post-adolescent American male, who wears a baseball cap in such a fashion that its brim is approximately forty-five degrees off-center. Do you think those two forty-fivers are lovers?
[syn: tool, douche-bag, asshole, cretin, prick; see also 'Von Dutchman']
[ant: n. Fosterite]
for·ty-fiv·er
n. slang
1. An individual, usually a post-adolescent American male, who wears a baseball cap in such a fashion that its brim is approximately forty-five degrees off-center. Do you think those two forty-fivers are lovers?
[syn: tool, douche-bag, asshole, cretin, prick; see also 'Von Dutchman']
[ant: n. Fosterite]
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