My Vote

People have always been curious about my politics and my voting habits. I don't know why, but I get asked (or told) for whom I voted most every November. So I'd like to clarify my position.

Politics is dumb, politicians are liars and, well, yeah. That.

My voting patterns have changed over the years. As a younger man, imbued with idealism and stupidity, I embraced a party, convinced that overarching questions of one's approach to governance should drive major decisions, individuals be damned. The platform, as it reflected an underlying understanding of the role of government should hold sway. Even when I flirted with voting for a particular candidate, I was still focused on issue-driven positions. I learned to let slide moral lapses that included a commander-in-chief indulging in infidelity while in office though it violated my personal moral code, and ignore positions which didn't accord with certain understandings of my religious value system because the party spoke for an approach to the entire structure of government.

I continued, despite the rampant tendency of political leaders to embrace practices (both in their policies and their lives) which ran counter to essential aspects of my identity, to vote for the representative of the party whose stated positions more clearly reflected my priorities. I defended the players and the groups by parroting those supposed truths about the size and function of government and its place in the day to day lives of the public. But I stopped when I realize that it was all junk and lies. Beneath the offensive personal practices, the abhorrent policy positions, the hot-mic comments, or the problematic deals and decisions there was never a heart driven by and towards and chewy-nougat moral center which I could fall back on. There was no code which compelled any group to do anything, and I realized that the labels and groups were interchangeable and fictions.

Ultimately, politics is defined as "lying while wearing a suit" and any particular position is subject to the whims of the highest bidder or nearest election. The most admirable quality in a politician is the ability to keep his or her mouth shut so that we don't have made obvious what is rotting under the surface and we can keep pretending that it isn't the case. No politician stands for me and no one is a role model for how I think or who I should be. When a public statement echoes my feelings then, hey, great. It is valuable until it isn't in vogue any more. I am too leery of the entire system to expect anything more and I hope I have taught my children a similar distaste. It isn't cynicism or pessimism, but a healthy realism -- don't look to scientists when you want positions on religion or politics, and don't look to politicians for their stances on anything related to morals. I can applaud something that is to my advantage while keeping an eye on its half-life and seeing that its future is dependent on the squeakiest part of the electorate. Its staunchest supporter or ally might change his mind tomorrow and I shouldn't be surprised. The messenger no longer matters for good or for bad. I shouldn't rely on a politician to set any personal standard because if I hang my hat on his or her characteristics, I run the same risk I do if I look for scientific or archaeological proof and validation for the bible. If you live by that sword, you will, the next day, probably die by it. So you embrace the support while you have it but don't let that giddiness spill over into any other arena. Make that hay while the sun shines but expect the other shoe to drop. But you never admire the useful idiots in suits who put it forward because their other statements, their lapses and flaws make it impossible to latch on to them in any larger sense.

Now I vote for third party candidates. Am I throwing away my vote by refusing to participate in a broken system? Aren't I just ensuring that someone's vision of the wrong candidate will win? Yes and no. Remember, to me they are all undesirable, all liars looking for expedients and pay days, looking to line their pockets and make some speeches along the way. And what if one explicitly announces that he holds a major position which is one which threatens the well-being of me and mine, or which calls into question his valuing of deep-seated values which I adhere to? I can then wonder if anyone's vote can make any difference. This person got to a position of prominence -- he rose through the system to represent his party or group. They are willing to field him as their go-to guy which means the problem runs so much deeper than a single candidate. The move to overthrow the social order must be a clearly popular perspective and the country may just be too far gone.

So there you have it. My politics is the realization that politics stinks. I have certain feelings about specific laws, rules and such, views which have developed from my experiences and my own moral compass but I certainly don't think that any politician is in line with all of that so I have stopped looking.

Plymouth High School, Nov 27, 2019, 10:35 AM

Thank you all, please settle down. Let's go -- find your seats and quiet down, please. Thank you.

OK. Sorry that we had to have this assembly -- some of you are missing gym, but this is important. We need to discuss this as a community so let's just...please, Mr. Evans, sit down and- EVANS meet me in my office after this assembly! Now will the rest of you just pipe DOWN!

Thank you.

Before you go away for the Thanksgiving break I'd like to remind you of our school code of conduct and what we will not tolerate either in school or at home. We all know about the practice of "Pilgrimming" and it is, as it always has been, unacceptable. If we find that you have been involved, directly or not, there will be consequences. This school's administration finds the practice repugnant and we have a zero-tolerance policy about it. Yes, there will be pressure. Yes, it seems like innocent fun. But no matter what the "cool kids" say, taking a square-rigged merchant ship out on the water, landing at some unsuspecting person's dock and having a turkey dinner on his lawn is no laughing matter. The kinds of damage it does cannot be quantified and there are, though you may not see it, long term consequences. Yes, we were young once and sure, we were tempted by the allure of the hats and muskets, and even if a few of your teachers whisper to you about how much fun it is to say grace while a home owner waits, terrified in his den, lest he anger your God, this should serve as no excuse. There are ways that you can express your thanks properly, without terrorizing your neighbors with stuffing and yams.

And please, don't think that this is some "innocent activity". Studies have shown that pilgrimming serves as a stepping stone to even more troubling behaviors. Wassailing, hoarding Easter eggs and even, dare I mention it, spontaneous recitations of the Pledge of Allegiance are all tied to people who couldn't get their "fix" just by -- as you young people say it -- "Passing the Cornbread."

Local police will be on the look out for ships of all configurations. Last year a student claimed, after he was caught joyriding in a 2-masted schooner that he wasn't pilgrimming. Subsequent searches revealed a hidden cache of pumpkin pie in the forecastle and 14, yes, 14 pairs of buckled Victorian loafers. He was looking to deal, kids, and who knows what might have happened. He is no longer welcome here, and I don't want you to suffer the same fate.

So spend some time with family, and if your parents allow it, under their watchful eye, you can try some green-bean casserole -- in a safe environment with adults standing by. But we will be testing students for gravy...shhh, quiet please, gravy, and, yes, possession of open containers of cranberry sauce in public will get you suspended.

Thank you -- now please go back to 4th period for regular classes.

spoiler alert: I'm alive

The things we learn and the things we do

I'm sitting here at 26 thousand feet battling vague nausea and constant dread as we fly towards Chicago for a family celebration. The dread is about the flight not the event and only tangentially about Chicago. Broad shoulders they say. Just another reason for me to feel bad about my own physique. Even the city is in better shape than I am. 

But between the "chop" (that's airplane talk for turbulence that induces both vomiting and prayer) and the cramped seats I have already had an interesting morning. Here's what I have learned:

You can say morning prayers on a 737 if you are nice to the flight staff and are willing to get sidelong glances from most everyone. As I'm used to people looking at me all weird and such this was not really a challenge. The hardest part was the timing - when the seat belt light was off but the attendants were busy moving all around and needing the galley for the galley-type activities.

The headphones that American Airlines gives out seem to trigger the Google assistant on my phone so trying to watch a show which I downloaded on Netflix is impossible as the assistant keeps kicking in and minimizing the video. I thought that playing music would be a good backup plan but I did not download the AA app so while I can recognize and supposedly connect to the plane's wifi, I cannot actually connect to anything internet related so my music remains in the cloud, just not the one I'm flying through. For those of you keeping score, I didn't download the app when told to because, knowing I had no earphones, I didn't plan on using the phone. But then, hey, free earphones so I'm thinking, yeah, I'm back. Apparently not.

It is nice, though, to be able to type this while this metal tube navigates the bumpy air separating me and O'Hare airport. Now to locate the emesis bag...

2 things as we hurtle earthward - first us that I get angry when people don't sit down after the attendants and Captain say to. It isn't that I'm a blind rule follower, I just don't want some scoff law's arm smacking me as he is tossed about because his buckle is uncomfortable or he has to rearrange his pockets. Second is that when they announce that the flight attendants have to forego the safety check and just sit I worry. I'm worried.

Is there a type of terror beyond sheer terror? Because that's what I got. 

The flight crew is back in the aisles so I'd like to think that the worst is past. I also would like to think that I'm going to win the lottery so maybe just thinking isn't going to be enough.

I note a strong positive correlation between when I think I'm going to die amdst the turbulence of a plane flight and the times when I am on a plane flight. The course of action seems clear. I'm going to walk to Israel.

We landed. Let us never speak of the shortcut again. 

Streaming of consciousness

OK, it's a bad habit but one I come by honestly -- I analyze stuff in the media. Not the worst habit, I understand, but it makes people not want to talk to me because I over explain and anticipate stuff that most people could care less about. Or couldn't. Both work. Anyway, I'm sure that there are other reasons that people don't want to talk to me but I would prefer to assume it is because of my d obsession with media studies.

I bring this up because I just want to put down in words some thoughts about a major shift or two in the TV industry so I want you all to understand that this is how my brain works. That said, here we go.

I just finished binge watching a TV series. I decided that I wanted to watch the show this week so I did, bam: 4 days and done. This got me thinking about two ways in which streaming services are changing the industry and the impact these changes will have. To wit --

1. There is no sense in making cliff hangers between episodes, but more sense in making them between seasons. When shows had long pauses between episodes, it made sense to keep the viewers on pins and/or needles. Force them to wait til sweeps, get them to watch an episode up against someone else's breakout hit. Do whatever it takes to get that appointment television to pencil in your show. So a show ends on a sharp intake of surprised breath and you wait a week, alternately persevorating on and avoiding trailers and previews. Now, no longer. Once episode X is over, I can jump right to X+1. No wait, no wonder. This shifts the entire structure of the writing of a show -- the act 1, 2 and etc progression is unnecessary so the writers can pace their story telling in a much more natural way. No longer does the one-hour mark require a major edge-of-the-seat event. In fact, the show can be only 45 minutes long if the writer wants! The natural break can be the natural break! Writers, change your gears -- you are no longer slave to that clock. But once that entire season is consumed in a weekend, the particular time between new seasons is completely arbitrary, so a streaming service can pick a date and make everyone wait until the new season drops. Drag it out and pump up the anticipation.

2. There are no longer any reruns. If I can watch a show whenever I want, I will. Or I won't -- I'll find something else. I'll watch it again when I want or I will look for another way to spend my time. The idea of seasons died a few years ago, and the summer "season", historically where failed shows get some air time, has become as valid a time to release a show as any. The entire calendar of TV releases has been affected. There is no place to hide bad shows, but on the flip side, because new content is constantly needed, mediocrity gets included. If it doesn't get watched, then we move on to something else, but that show isn't a stop gap while a "real" show recharges. Standard programming practices like tent-polling and such are meaningless. A show lives and dies on its own numbers. No lead ins.

I'm sure that there are other implications but these jumped out at me. I'll post more when I feel like it. So there.

More On the Internet

Related: This one, and this one.

I was standing amidst a throng of high school students (that's an occupational hazard, as I work in a high school, and we often have throngs) and I noticed a student wearing a hoodie which was half black and half white ( https://www.zaful.com/contrast-patchwork-casual-hoodie-p_541938.html?currency=USD&lkid=615976&gclid=Cj0KCQiAtf_tBRDtARIsAIbAKe3XY9MFCGjsxZ5HqnVeeFZls8QJaemErsOb-Pr7jiYBMy_aVDhl0KoaAq1eEALw_wcB ). I was tempted to go up to him and ask him if he was being chased by someone with a a hoodie that was half white and half black. Funny, right?

I stopped myself, though, once I realized that there is no way that he would understand the reference. I could have said "You know...Star Trek? Frank Gorshin? Let that Be Your Last Battlefield?" but it wouldn't have triggered anything. For those of you currently befuddled, here. How is it that in this day and age of the internet, people seem to know so little?

Here's what I figured -- historically, the measure of wisdom hasn't been what a person knows, but what a person knows he doesn't know. There must be room for inquiry. Therefore, in a universe where all information is constantly available, everyone is, by default, an idiot. And welcome to our world! We NEED to have people with actual knowledge and experience because only they can see the gaps, because they appreciate their own limitations. In a world where everyone CAN know anything, no one actually has to know anything. Once we are complacent, thinking that we can find whatever we need, we lost the ability to anticipate our needs! Cultural knowledge, experiential knowledge, common sense all go out the window because we think that all the info is a Siri away. Do you remember that trip we went on and you took that pictuer of...? No, because all the pictures are uploaded and we can go through them. In fact, I don't have to remember that we went on the trip because the experience is not necessarily resident in my brain.

This is a problem. We stop walking through life asking questions when we know that the answers are already waiting. We aren't troubled by anything and nothing has to trigger any other ideas -- long term memory is dead because we can store all of our memories in the cloud. We don't know our family's phone numbers. We don't know our own history. We don't worry about the trivia and factoids which give life spice and put the random things we see into a context. If you know X, so when you write, comment or otherwaise create content, referencing X, I stand less chance of knowing X because there was no reason for me to know it. I need to be followed by an algorithm or a person who can see that (To be or not to be" is a thing which hearkens back to something else, and can express the use's significance to me. We are inventing a new profession, that of the context keeper, who specializes in knowing stuff without a computer and will be the one whose job it is to prompt us when there is a background that we should be made aware of.

There is a meme going around (meme being a unit of memory with a built in half life) which expands on an old saying (attributed to Miles Kington in Philip Sheldrake The Business of Influence: Reframing Marketing and PR for the Digital Age, Chichester: Wiley, 2011, p.153): "Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad." The new (at least 4 years old) version adds in "philosophy is wondering if ketchup is a smoothie."

My understanding of it is "Facts are stored, knowledge is through access but wisdom is knowing what to access, and when, and how to access." Sure, it isn't smarmy but in about 2 months, very few people will know that it reflects Kington's earlier quote.

Why I'm still on Earth this morning

The voices were like the heavenly choir. Harmonies so rich that they had their own harmonies filled my head as a blue light bathed me in radiance. Alone, walking home that night, I hadn't considered aliens or any sort of visitation which was ironic as that was usually what filled my thoughts.

I have always been interested in outer space -- the stars, planets, galaxies and the vast expanse that begs comprehension. I look up at the night sky and imagine myself spending any number of lifetimes crossing the distances and seeing wondrous miracles, life forms, explosions and things unimaginable. I'm often lost in thought as I gaze into the inky past, dreaming, wishing, even hoping that some force, some intelligence would somehow descend and pick me, yes me, to be the one to travel to the stars and represent humanity in this contact. This is why it was so unusual that at the moment when the beings finally made their presence known, I was not thinking of traveling to the out there which is out there.

"Come with us..."

The sound was as much in my head as around it. I was awash in sound, full and tangible. I looked up, realizing that, though the light was bright, it didn't need to shield my eyes. I both saw its center and was at its center.

"Come with us..." the voice repeated. I was stunned, too shocked even to respond. The light beckoned me, it drew me in and I found myself walking in it and reaching.

"Come with us..." again, the pull. Everything I had yearned for, within my grasp.

"Hold on," I said, pulling out my phone, "I just have to tell the wife that I won't be home for...how long?"

"What?" Even in their confusion the aliens' music lifted my soul.

"I want to let her know that she shouldn't expect me home for dinner and, maybe also breakfast?"

"Of course..."

"Hey -- I should probably let my boss know. He'll have to arrange some sort of coverage while I...what will I be doing again? I need to know so I can take the right kind of day."

The choir responded with a lushness that sang to my core."Come with us and explore the mysteries of the universe."

"OK, so vacation day. Go it. Hold on." I started to dial and then put the phone down. "Like how long are we talking. The universe is big but I only get 6 personal days."

"We have worlds to discover together, and we wish to share the secrets of civilizations beyond your understanding, dimensions of which you cannot conceive -- we want you to-"

"Right, so I'll probably need to take the whole bunch. That means I can't take one in March for my kid's recital. Hmmmmm."

"Come with us..." Its lure, irresistible.

"Yes...with you. Um...how does time work?"

"What?"

"I mean, will it seem like a long time, but we will be traveling so fast that the experience will be over really quickly? I haven't davened shacharis yet, so am I going to need to grab my tefillin before we go, or will we be back soon?"

"You will see the face of god in all things, and worship with an honesty and nearness you cannot even begin to imagine..."

"Right, but do I need my tefillin? And how are you people fixed on snacks? I have a gluten thing, so I'd appreciate if you had some vegetables or maybe rice crackers. I'm a bear to be around if I have gluten."

"We can give you the ambrosia, nectar of the stars, to fill you up in ways that -"

"I can't imagine, yeah, but under whose hashgacha? Do you guys have wi-fi up there?"

"You will be one with the cosmos, communing with nebulae and touching the heavens...come with us..."

"Yeah, but wi-fi? I will want to update my status, and live tweet this whole trip thing. Damn, I'm at 14%. I need to grab a charger, and maybe a change of clothes. What should I dress for -- cold? Hot? Do I need a sweater? Will we be meeting anyone so I should be maybe formal?" You meet some nice aliens and begin talking like your grandparents.

"Do you want to come or not?" The harmonies rang and I could almost feel myself lifted up by a power beyond my body.

"Am I going to be on my feet a lot? I have PT this afternoon and my foot is really aching. Do you have a guy? I need heat and massage and someone to work on joint strengthening. Also, can we stop by CVS on the way? I need to get more migraine medicine. Ooooh, also a magazine. You like People?"

"We love people and wish to usher humanity into a new age of -"

"No, the magazine. I'll get you an Us Weekly. I just have to stop off an grab some cash. Can you guys wait here? I'll just be a sec."

And, as I turned to make a quick withdrawal of, like, forty bucks, they left. The bastards.

To Brag

Allow me to brag. Allow me to bask in the glory, and brag. Not about me. Well, at least not directly about me. And please, don't judge me as a braggart just because I brag. I spill over with pride and I wish to share it. With all my complaining, you'd think you people would be happy that I'm happy. Sheesh.

Anyway, there are milestones by which we judge "growing up." I recall a TV show in which a son's maturity was marked by his ability to beat his father in a basketball game. Maybe it was an arm wrestling match. I watch them both with the same level of enthusiasm so I can't much tell the difference. But I'm no athlete. I'm what scientists like to call "a lazy good for nuthin'" Then they spit. It's Latin -- sorry if you don't get it. In my house, we value pursuits of the mind. So when your mind wanders, you can say it is just out doing research. I have tried to be the bedrock of information, intellectual method and curiosity for my kids and have tried to engage them in the process of discovery and debate so that they become better thinkers and communicators. So what could signify that they have reached a particular plateau and become kings of that particular trapezoidal mountain? When they knock me off. Intellectually. Not like dead, but bettered.

They know that to be conceded to when making cogent points is a feat and a great moment. Ever since they started presenting powerpoints to justify a trip to Florida, and assembling lists of pros and cons about why we should get a dog, they have both appreciated the systematic assembling of argument. That's plenty to get a dad's proud revving. But they weren't ready yet to challenge me on an issue of current concern and argue me into rethinking a position. Until now.

I don't often get my opinion changed. I think most of us, when we have thought through a position and firmly entrenched ourselves don't get jostled too much - not because of stubbornness and the fear of instability, but because if we are ready to declare a position, it is the result of deep and sincere thought and consideration. So when I had my mind changed due to a conversation I watched on line between strangers in a discussion forum, that was pretty big news for me. My underlying understanding didn't change, but I was able to recontextualize my position so that it effected a different outward expression. I saw things differently so I didn't oppose what I had opposed -- not because I changed the baseline belief about its rectitude (or lack) but because the milieu in which it existed was explained in a way where I saw that my opposition was unnecessary. It was a grand start. That was about 10 years ago. Then there was 2 days ago. I was driving my younger child into The City (if you have to ask which then you aren't paying attention -- The City) and, knowing that she is a passionate social justice warrior with a heart of gold, I asked her how she felt about a particular issue. I pushed and challenged and then presented my position which was, in many ways, opposite hers. We are able, you see, to disagree on major social issues and still relate together because we respect that positions don't define one's humanity; they are simply expressions of understanding. People should try that.

So there we are, driving down the FDR and chatting. I lay out my feelings and ask difficult questions and she responds. I was pretty sure that I would be able to cite enough statistics and anecdotes to justify why I felt the way I did and that, though she would make a fine showing, ultimately, she would have to accept that my position is valid. And that I could smile and nod at youthful exuberance and idealism while making sure that she was exposed to my, no doubt more worldly and informed statements. I pointed out that her position was inconsistent. She granted me that and we tried to explore the parameters which would define when she felt one way and when the other. I admitted my inconsistency and tried to express where I drew various lines. She pushed back. Everything was going well. Then she took a tack for which I was not prepared. She pointed out (through both anecdote and logic, coupled with common sense) that my baseline statistic was simply wrong. Now I'm no fan of statistics and I know that they are the tools of manipulators and liars, plus I don't understand them so much, but in general, big numbers that are commonly accepted seem safe -- basic correlations like "people with guns are more likely to shoot people than people without guns" and "if you don't eat, you gonna die." She questioned one of my big numbers: if I rely on a particular trend in order to predict future behavior, but that trend was established through improper thinking which would have been the result of using that trend, then my statistic is circular and baseless.

Here's an analog (and I'm working very hard not to bring up the specific topic we discussed so that any reader's thinking about this isn't clouded by his or her own preconceived notions):

I say we can predict tomorrow's weather by looking at the statistics of how much it rained on days after a football game.
She points out that those statistics were generated by people who ignored when it rained on days after no-football because they expected a correlation so they found it, and the later statistics which purport to show an effect are actually just pointing out the cause -- there is a higher correlation because those are the ones we counted in the past! Yes, it is more complex than that and without showing the actual topic of discussion, it is hard to explain fully and clearly, but trust me - she made me rethink what I knew and believed about relying on a particular trend's value. I fell into a sullen silence which masked a true admiration, which was covering a sullen silence. I'm complex like that.

Now I'm not saying that I am discarding my entire position. I still think that my ideas have merit. But this kid, whom I refer to as "the smart one," shut me down in a way. Now my other kid, whom I refer to as "the smart one" (fortunately, neither reads my blog, so neither knows that I think they are both smart...that's a relief) has argued her points well for many years, but we haven't sparred on questions of politics and the communal conscience. That's why the other one went through the army, her own apartment, moving to another country and becoming a vegetarian. She's smart like that. This one will change the world, one mind at a time. I am the proud dad of two women. Two brilliant, strong and strong willed women who see a better future and are working with their bodies and minds to make that vision a reality. Color me convinced

End brag. We now resume our regularly scheduled complaint. My foot hurts.