Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 23, 2023

Foundation, Empire, and Pennsylvania


If you like alternate history, there's more here.




The Central State's flag above, and the American flag below, with the lions of sacred Mount Nittany standing guard. At one time the American flag had thirteen stripes, prior to the absorption of the Northeast Extension, the Lower Counties, and The Shore (old style, Connecticut, Delaware and New Jersey respectively.)



From fair Henlopen in the South, and Franklinton, New Reading and Long Island. From Toledo in the Northwest where the prairies begin, and the industrial river metropolis of Huntington, the Central State looms large in history and in our hearts. From the beginning it was a microcosm of all of America. The culture and government of the United States was not always so dominated as it is today by the Keystone Kingdom. Indeed it is sometimes difficult to separate discussions of national politics from those of "Pee-Ay". But it is instructive to revisit the events that led to such an arrangement.


On the eve of the Revolution, there was no sure sign that Pennsylvania would come to dominate the Union just as the original crown colony of Virginia had until then dominated the colonies. But there was already a hint during the Seven Years War, when British officers who came to fight the French in the North American theater recognized, in print, that Virginians promised everything and delivered nothing, while for the Pennsylvanians it was the contrary. No surprise that the opportunist Washington was the first to engage the French (illegally killing a surrendered officer), hunker down at Fort Necessity, and quickly lose.



The Grand Canyon. (Credit Bayjournal.com.)

It bears repeating what every American learns in school, but imagining that we were there, not knowing how things would turn out, making decisions in real time. In the spring of 1784, Pennsylvania had had enough from the treacherous Yankees of the Northeast Extension (then called Connecticut), who continued illegally squatting in the Wyoming Valley and dispossessing the Central State of its land based on deeds from King George - who the inbred Anglophiles may not have realized was no longer in charge of North America! Leading the charge were Alexander Patterson and Henry Shoemaker, low-level officials who would be catapulted into history as protectors and heroes of the young republic. In response to the mobs of Yankees rampaging through the valley attacking women and children, a militia was raised in July by order of Pennsylvania’s Supreme Executive Council. Outgoing president of Congress (a rather modest position with no hint of what was to come) Thomas Mifflin, after pleading with both sides to stop, visited the valley and saw the Yankee depradations with his own eyes.

In August the strengthened militia fully ejected the Yankees and pursued them across the border into New York. Mifflin returned to the Confederated States capital at Annapaolis and made his impassioned speech, demanding "Can only the Pennsylvanian reckon justice?" The call was heard back home, and as the Pennamite army pushed the weakening Yankees back to the Hudson River, reinforcements continued to pour in. (The story of a fleeing Yankee taunting now-General Shoemaker that Pennamites couldn't swim, while delicious, is likely apocryphal.) Thus began the Crossing near Newburgh, the Glorious March, and the Forty Great Days. The swollen Pennamite Army pursued the haggard Yankees, first to Hartford, then turned back to New Haven where the final resistance was met and crushed. The Burning of New Haven and subsequent salting of the soil caused the victorious Pennamites to name the town built on its ashes New Carthage. The first new piece of the Central State had been assembled.

The Death of New Haven, John Troutman. (Really Burning Village at Night by Johann Trautmann, 1716-1769.)


Fresh from their victory and with no serious organized opposition, Shoemaker made the then-controversial decision to continue along the coast to the harbor town of Franklinton (then called simply New York City; difficult though it is for us to believe today, Franklinton was at that time actually slightly larger than Philadelphia!) Of course, we were all shocked to learn based on recently discovered letters that Mifflin had essentially ordered him not to. Franklinton took a few days longer but finally fell; it is often simplistically imagined that the fighting stopped quickly and neatly, but for nearly two months the hunt-and-snipe naval warfare continued, with most of the guerilla fighting both in the streets of the main island Manhattan and in the forests of Staten Island, along with significant resistance from the converted commercial barges coming down the Hudson. At this point Mifflin issued demands to the Lower Counties (then, confusingly, called "Delaware" after a county in southeast Pennsylvania that always remained as part of the Central State) that they return to the fold, and they rejoined with a minimum of discussion. Getting New Jersey's delegates to agree was slightly harder but after the (now archaic-seeming) carve-outs were placed in the Act of Union, Pennsylvania now extended to the Atlantic. This is the basis for public wagering and the production of certain pork products being restricted to The Shore; a pig farmer at the negotiations named Charles Taylor insisted on the latter, and the pork rolls still bear his name. (It's a curiosity that The Shore's official name remains New Jersey, though mapmakers seem unconcerned with this.)

By October, other states had begun organizing their own militias, with Massachusetts in particular preparing for all-out war. Mifflin unilaterally moved the capital back to Philadelphia, and appealed to the other states to quickly send delegates that the Articles of Confederation could be amended, as winter was approaching. Revisionists occasionally deride this as an illegal move, but the Republic as it stands is founded on the agreements subsequently drawn up. (The grumbling of James Montgomery, the Rhode Island delegate, that he was rubber-stamping something to give it an air of legitimacy, gives us the phrase "like a Rhode Islander at the convention" for those who decry pointless ceremonies.) Mifflin began with tweaks to the articles which subtly gave the Central State the "first among equals" status it now not so subtly enjoys. But the work continued into the winter, and once there was snow on the ground, he went full bore - in particular, in adding an article outlawing slavery, which Pennsylvania had already done within its own borders, in a law written by Mifflin himself. Mifflin knew what he was doing in bringing out these amendments to his captive audience when the weather turned - hence, where an Englishman might talk about crossing the Rubicon, an American would quote Mifflin: "When the first flake strikes the Schuylkill."

The First and Highest, Governor Mifflin. (Credit Pennsylvania House of Representatives.)

The agrarian states in the South obviously balked, but Mifflin had anticipated this. A militia composed of the willing - not only the Pennamites from the Central State's expanded realm but also New England abolitionists, had already been dispatched south, going plantation to plantation, intercepting riders bringing news of their approach, and most importantly - conducting rendition of slaveowners. This is the most difficult part of Thomas Mifflin's legacy, but the results are not in dispute. When the brigade officer met with the plantation owner, the owner would be asked to sign a document freeing his slaves, and a petition to be submitted to the Final Congress demanding the abolition of slavery throughout the nation. Of course, most refused; they were then brought north, themselves to work in the chilly fields of Lancaster and Berks County and building roads and digging canals, with the only condition required for their release - signing those two documents. By 1785 there were few enough holdouts that the Emancipation Act was passed, closing a stained chapter of our history.

The British were no idle spectators and indeed, had expected the experiment in self-government to fail from its first days. Caught by surprise, they had provided only nominal aid to the Yankees in the fall of 1784, but they were taken off guard; not so the following year. The wealthy plantation owners of Virginia met with the British naval officers who came up that state's rivers at night, and the Battle of Williamsburg was a narrow Pennamite victory, when a detachment of troops came upon a squadron of British ships at anchor. Of the owners who were sought and captured as a result of their foreign involvement, we mostly remember Washington, whose service to the cause of independence will be forever marred by his willingness to consort with the enemy to keep human beings in chains. One wonders how long, in some other world, some of our other Virginian First Fathers (Titan old gods to Mifflin, Patterson and Shoemaker's Greek pantheon) would have continued the institution of slavery without the example of Washington to encourage them to emancipate. This incident resulted in the transfer of Virginia's mountain counties and Trans-Ohio lands to Pennsylvania, a transaction encoded directly in the Charter, and the Central State took the final form it has today.



The High Governor's two official residences. Above, at Ocean City in The Shore and below, in South Mountain, Berks County.


In 1786 the Charter was finalized by Franklin and signed by Mifflin, and the Republic of America was born, with Pennsylvania at its heart. Governor Mifflin finally achieved his title, formally transferring his responsibilities to head of the Central State's government rather than that of the nation. As a result, legally, "Governor of Pennsylvania" is de facto interchangeable with leader of the Republic of America, with the American President having a mostly ceremonial role, much like the king in a constitutional monarchy. Mifflin was followed by Patterson and Shoemaker, and during the terms of the Great Three, America pushed in every direction, not only expanding beyond the Mississippi but also taking England's possessions in Canada and the Caribbean and adding them to the Republic. As the Republic expanded within the North American continent, it found itself in a complex arrangement, with the Pennsylvanian-founded states like Ollinger and Yoder having a status akin to a Republican version of those in Europe ruled directly by the Holy Roman Empire, and independent states like New Mexico and California as duchies and principalities. The Pennamites appeared to be unstoppable, and this era produced William Pitt the Younger's frustrated statement about finding England's sins, so she could be absolved and saved from this new race of devils.

A subsequent history of Pennsylvania is necessarily a history of the world, given its immediate industrial expansion and its people's close ties with the many progressive German states, usually considered to have started with an overseas victory by a combined force of European and Pennamite troops over the French despot Napoleon at Austerlitz, where Napoleon was captured and executed. These ties only deepened over the next century. Despite a brief clash between east and west nearly erupting into full civil war over the use of "soda" versus "pop", and "youse" vs "yinz", Americans continue to be greeted the world over as "pennies", and immigrants continue to arrive in Philadelphia and take a picture as they order their first sauerkraut and scrapple in the Central State. The ongoing Wawa-Sheetz controversy seems intractable, but Pennsylvania has always synthesized its extremes and risen above them.


BACK FROM ALTERNATE HISTORY: WHY DID NEW YORK AND NOT PENNSYLVANIA BECOME THE EMPIRE STATE?

New York didn't dominate the Union to nearly the same degree as our fun alternate history of "Imperial Pennsylvania." (I liked "Central State" better than "Keystone" because it echoes the literal translation of China's self-confident name for itself, the Central Kingdom.) But New York is to some extent the first among equals on the East Coast, even if de facto rather than de jure. Why? As usual, a combination of geography and demography being destiny, and historical happenstance.

First, what do we mean by "empire state"? The biggest wealthiest city, and the most famous people. Let's start with the second one there. It often sticks out to me that Pennsylvania had so many fewer presidents than the states that surround it. Virginia has eight, Ohio has eight, and New York has five. Pennsylvania finally has a second - in an ironic twist, the first was Buchanan, the worst president in American history until the twenty-first century, and the second president from PA unseated the only president who was even worse than Buchanan.[1] Again, why?

Pennsylvania was settled by people from the Midlands of England and Germans.[2] The German religious migrants and Midlanders were a group that valued equality and an overall "flat" social organization which was a major contributor to the informality and salt-of-the-Earth directness of the overall American character, and the religious tolerance that Penn espoused fit them well. New York had a heavy influence from the more rigid settlers of New England who valued education much more than Pennsylvania's farmers - and, in real life, came directly into armed conflict with them in the actually quite real Pennamite Wars[3], which formed the branchpoint in our exercise here.

As to the second factor - geography - New York was already slightly bigger during the time of the Revolution, but this obviously just begs the question.[4] Why was New York already bigger? You might think it's because it's a little closer to Europe, so it was easier for European migrants to arrive there. True, but then why isn't Massachusetts the Empire State? The real reason is that New York has the Hudson, a navigable river that crosses the Fall Line, which can be sailed all the way to Troy. It was easier to get raw materials and get to markets and then later, with canals, onto the Great Lakes. Similar reasons account for the origins of Detroit as the center of the automotive industry and Seattle as the headquarters of Boeing (wood for material, and water for transport for the early aerospace industry.) While Pennsylvania does have shoreline on Lake Erie, it's across the significant and little-discussed Eastern Continental Divide, that divides the watersheds of the Atlantic and the Gulf of Mexico. Pennsylvania did build a canal later connecting the Delaware and Chesapeake but the Susquehanna (whose name, according to a humorous myth, means "mile wide, inch deep") is just not a useful river for transporting goods.

Years ago I was curious why Virginia, the cradle of presidents, ended up settling with the title of dominion rather than empire? You may have noticed that despite Jamestown being the oldest culturally ancestral settlement in America[5], our biggest densest cities are not in coastal Virginia. (We actually lost the location of Jamestown at one point!) But straight line extrapolation from single facts is always a fool's game. Virginia's first two centuries were strong ones - the military uniform Washington wore early in the Seven Years War actually implied Virginia was a equal part of the United Kingdom along with England, Scotland and Ireland (sorry Wales.) But after the Civil War, Virginia was relegated to partly a suburb of DC, and then, well, the rest of it. (I'm partial to Hampton Roads for reasons of childhood vacations, and Shenandoah National Park is cooler than you might realize, but the point is fair.) Virginia is a warmer Pennsylvania, but even worse, with a wider coastal plain between the Atlantic and the Fall Line. Why even worse? Because as the industrial age unfolded, its better climate and broader plains cursed it.[6] The first settlers were from the estates of southern England (Albion's Seed termed them Cavaliers) and served as the first Presidents, but the agrarian paradise that Jefferson envisioned (a chain of plantation mini-states that were either utopias or dystopias depending what color your skin was) was soon outcompeted in dollars, growth, and power by the industrial cities to the north. (I would be curious to look at a Gini calculation between Pennsylvania and Virginia landowners or a comparison of mean farm size between the two, but I'm going to call that the line where the professionals can take over.) And finally, if you think the Fall Line in Pennsylvania was hard to get over, try the Appalachians in Virginia. Some of those roads in Shenandoah wouldn't look out of place in the Sierras if not for the deciduousness of the forests.

Long live the Keystone State! May it ever shine in glory!


FOOTNOTES

[1] If you don't agree, I'm surprised that you were able to read this far, but surely it was slow going and you're likely mouthing your words as you read.

[2] Albion's Seed is an excellent book, which details how each region of colonial America was settled by people from specific parts of England. Similar things happened in the Spanish-speaking world, for example people from Andalusia to Mexico, people from the Canaries to the Caribbean.

[3] This was actually the second time Pennsylvanians fought with another colony or state. Suck it, Cresap.

[4] I suspect we don't talk as much about New York during the Revolution as we do Philadelphia and Boston because we mostly got our asses kicked there. The British abandoned Boston early in the war, Philly was occupied only after a fight but both the Declaration and Constitution were written there, and the interior was never occupied, with the pesky insurgents brazenly camping right up the Schuylkill in Valley Forge.

[5] The roundabout language of "culturally ancestral" disqualifies St. Augustine, Roanoke, along with Cahokia and every Native American city, since there isn't an unbroken cultural chain from any of them to us today in modern America.

[6] There's a great statistic cited in Zakaria's Post-American World that I will give in the abstract here, to maximize impact. Country 1 has a sound lead in industry X; Country 2 in industry Y. Sales in industry X are at least an order of magnitude bigger than Y. So you want to be Country 1 right? Filling in the blanks: the year was 1900, Country 1 was the UK, industry X was bicycles, Country 2 was the US, and industry Y was automobiles. Extending this to Virginia (and the South in general), its better climate made it over-reliant on agriculture, and the industrial revolution arrived late and weakly.

Tuesday, February 4, 2020

New Names for Subtle Emotional States


Linderungzorn: "relief anger" - the sensation of finally doing something you've been putting off and stressing about forever, and it turns out to not be a big deal, and you're angry at yourself for delaying it and torturing yourself for no reason,


Sociopathos: the mixture of glee, contempt and anger one feels when someone who insists on making bad decisions suffers as a result.

Friday, February 15, 2019

"The Quixotic Single-Mindedness of the Live-Action-Role-Playing Russophile"

What a great piece this is, about a gathering of (very) left-of-center political activists. It sounds like a glorious mess, and I'm quite happy to read about it from a distance. Anything which contains phrases such as the one in the post title gets an automatic A+, but the gems keep coming: "Don't you just hate it when those fake-ass poseur environmentalists rip off your intersectionality? One would assume that in any intelligible scheme of political success, the mass 'appropriation' of their ideas/consciousness/jargon/acronyms would be the ultimate goal of these 'intersectional environmentalist' pioneers. But when you substitute po-mo politics for your personality, 'Moooooooom, he's coooooopying meeeee' quickly becomes a new standard of oppression."

Warning, anyone who has attended ideologically non-mainstream events may see a little (too much) of themselves reflected.

Saturday, June 9, 2018

The Most Haunting, Literature-Like Discussion Section Comment In History

From a Lonely Planet discussion page as I'm trying to figure out how to get from Big Bend to Chihuahua without a rental car:
I've taken that train, from Ojinaga to Chihuahua. The train was more like a streetcar than the typical locomotive and passenger cars. We must have hit at least 50 goats that refused to get off the railroad track. Every one made a bump. Started getting used to the routine, a loud whistle then a bump, and a few miles down the track another loud whistle then a bump, and off we went through the dark. I don't know why they bothered blowing the whistle. Not once was there a whistle without a bump.
If you've found this and are actually interested in traveling from Ojinaga to Chihuahua, it is reported that as of 2018 this train is not running anymore, and in fact there is no passenger train service anywhere in Mexico except for two tourist trains in the north (to Los Mochis) and south.

Wednesday, February 1, 2017

Making the Outdoors into a Status Game: Humans Are Weird, Volume # 178,822,941

Cross-posted to MDK10 Outside.

A friend of mine had lived in Philadelphia and Atlanta, and then moved to Olympia, Washington. She immediately fell in love with the place. She noticed - or thought she noticed - two things: that people there were really outdoorsy, and that they weren't concerned with the silly oneupmanship status games that she witnessed constantly back East.

That was before she witnessed, at a party, of grown-ups, two people arguing over who had the lower REI co-op number, and therefore who was the more genuine outdoorsy person.

I've had similar experiences in Moab and Banff, both of which towns I despise. I mean, really stomach-turningly hate, like a pagan hates the squat stone gods of an enemy tribe. I love where these towns are. Of course I love the Canyonlands and slickrock trails and rock mazes, and the Canadian Rockies and meadows. But I hate the people that congeal in these towns. Not all of them of course. But there are many people who just really need you to know how active and outdoorsy they are, by their branded gear, by the conversations they steer you into...exactly the sort of nonsense we go outside to avoid! (And, full disclosure, maybe I despise it so much because I catch myself doing it.) Let's not leave out Rainier Mountaineering Incorporated. Are they still around? I ran into one of their guides in Mexico once. He wasn't nearly as revolting as I expected he would be. (But still pretty bad.) The Red Rock Casino in Vegas on the other hand is much more open in using the name and theme and proximity to the canyons on the west side of the strip as their particular mechanism to part outdoorsy folks from money. There's an honesty in that which I very much appreciate.

Here we take a time out for a little exploration of the bizarre psychology on display among your fellow humans. And exhibit A in such a discussion is always the very fact that it can even seem bizarre: if you're human, and you spend by far the most time interacting with other humans versus other species, shouldn't understanding and acceptance of our cognition and behavior be automatic? The fact that it can even seem bizarre is bizarre!

Of course if you went to Moab for a race or some other competition, that is explicitly a zero-sum game, so that's a little different. You can't run a marathon and complain that everybody was just trying to win, because the race is explicitly and only a zero-sum status game (even if your goal is a PR). Along these lines, I had another friend in college who would play video games with us and criticize us for trying to rack up points instead of exploring the world inside the game. "Oh, points! Points for Mike!" he would cry with contempt. To which the rest of us offered "It's a game you moron!" (He was, and still is, in fact, a moron.)

The reason that Moab and Banff (and maybe even Taos) can feel so strangely claustrophobic and annoying is that we go out into the wild blue beyond to get away from this nonsense, but by the very fact of people with these interests and personality compositions being concentrated in one place, the games we all play when we socialize become all the more annoying and ridiculous. What my naive friend in Olympia learned that day is that humans will make anything into a status game, even outdoorsiness, as is clearly the case in outdoorsy towns, where outdoorsiness defines status. While life certainly does have zero-sum games, it also has a lot of games which are not. But status games, relying on relative position as they do, are necessarily zero sum. You can't become first in any order without displacing the person who's already there. Have you ever noticed how perspicacious people seem to avoid status games? My bet is that it's because these folks wisely learn to minimize competing in zero-sum games to the extent possible, status-oriented or otherwise. And like it or not, if you spend a lot of time doing outdoor activities, unless you hide those activities, it's likely an important part of your identity, so on some level you're using that to signal qualities about yourself, and to protect our identity we have to puff up our fur in a kind of implied social threat display. (Yet another of my dubious friends wanted to cloak himself in a featureless black sphere, a social event horizon that permitted no information to escape from him - but he soon realized even this would be in vain, as lookers-on would inevitably start commenting on what he was trying to say with such a dramatic choice, and anyway a guy I know has a much better event horizon, no I had an event horizon before it was cool, well I'm so cool I don't need an event horizon, etc.)

Instead of wearing branded gear, signaling by having a blog would be much better. More cultured. It would tell you, if you were a sophisticated observer, that the person is not only outdoorsy but also a man of letters, perhaps even with some capacity for ironic self-reflection.

Sunday, February 8, 2015

The Debatable Lands

Of all the cool-sounding names given in fantasy and reality to rough parts of the world (the Bad Lands, Broken Lands, the Burning Lands, etc.), none is as cool as the Debatable Lands.

Sunday, July 27, 2014

The War on Terroir

FINALLY, people are starting to avail themselves of the pun opportunities given the similarity of terror and terroir.

I for one have long suspected (and our foreign policy similarly ignored) the possibility that a team of suicide vintners from Bordeaux would infiltrate Napa. But for those of us with refined palates, this worry is but one of many crosses to bear.

Monday, May 12, 2014

Anarchist Conference Devolves Into Chaos (Not from the Onion)

Story, such as it is, found here. I wonder if anyone asked "I thought we were an autonomous collective?"

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

What Do the Patterns in Alternate Histories Say About Us?

For the most recent alternate history (a Buddhist Colony in Ptolemy's Alexandria) go here. This post is also cross-posted to my speculative fiction blog.

Added later: information about why the border between post-Mexican-War Mexico ended up where it did, and what an alternate "lesser" Mexico would have been like if the border had ended up even further south - and what the American Civil War might have been like if Sonora, Coahuila, and Chihuahua had been absorbed and admitted as states.


Alternative histories have tended so far to be about events in European (or Western) history, because they're written mostly by European-descended people, and mostly by English-speakers at that.

But that's kind of obvious. So even forgetting the (so far) Western focus of what-if fiction, there are two clear patterns that betray some of our assumptions. And the first obvious pattern is: alternate histories are about violence transpiring differently. How many alternate histories involve policy decisions or inventions happening out of order? It's not usually: what if Newton and Leibniz had not developed calculus, or antibiotics had never been invented (or been invented in pre-Mongol-sack Baghdad)? No, the large majority of what we see are the effects of different outcomes of battles and wars. What if Hitler won, what if the North lost Gettysburg, what if Alexander or Jenghiz had not turned around at India and Austria. And this is depressing; because it means either that history is mostly determined by violence, or (even if it's not true) it means that we at least believe that history is mostly determined by violence.

Yes, there are a few stories about political decisions (what if the Ming had not called back the treasure fleets is a favorite) but it's really mostly about if people had killed and dominated each other in a different way.

You could also argue that what we see commercially is not an accurate reflection of our beliefs about history. It's the same answer for why in speculative fiction, dystopias far outnumber utopias. There's clear conflict and thus they're easier to write.

The test at Sitio Trinidad, 1845, Jornada de Muerte, Nueva Mexico. The test was witnessed by governor Manuel Armijo and president Santa Ana, both of whom lost their vision as a result. (It seems both fission and high speed cameras were developed in nineteenth century Mexico but not dark glasses, go figure.) Despite this setback, the dreaded bomba santabarbara was smuggled in wagons and assembled in Austin and San Antonio and led to the end of the decade-long revuelta tejana and ultimately, the conquest of Alto México (previously the "United States".) Sure it did.

The second pattern, or really observation that students of history can make about this sub-genre: even with battles won or lost differently, it's very hard to find believable changes that affect the outcomes. Sun Tzu was right, the battle usually is won or lost before it begins, and even if the tide on one battlefield had turned, the currents were running one direction or another. For example, so what if Lee won at Gettysburg? A big setback for the Union to be sure, but the Confederacy was screwed from the start in terms of their population and economy. To really get big changes, you have to make major shifts long before the obvious change - the kinds of changes that would have given the South a fighting chance would have had to begin many years before the actual war. Case in point: someone once asked me what might have happened if, in the Mexican War, the Mexican factions had unified against the U.S. as an external threat, and the U.S. lost its first major foreign war and gained no territory. (Or if the U.S. had decided to actually press its 54'40" claim.) A suddenly unified and organized 1840s Mexico is (unfortunately for patriotic Mexicans) only marginally easier to imagine than the first atomic bomb being engineered a hundred years early at Los Alamos by Mexican scientists. Such a story might actually make for some really interesting Latino steampunk fiction, but might as well also include unicorns.

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Statement On Running for President.

Such an idea never entered my head, nor is it likely to enter the head of any sane person.

- Zachary Taylor, during the Mexican-American War

Thursday, May 30, 2013

Who Among Us Would Not Say The Same

Cross-posted from my outdoors and trail-running blog.

An interesting short piece at Reason about Gary Johnson:
One of the worst things you can say about Johnson is that he's a little too honest sometimes. Another is that he always seemed to want to be doing something other than campaigning. On Jan. 29, 2012, for instance, Johnson, Newt Gingrich, and Mitt Romney were all working crowds in Florida. On Jan. 28, Gingrich and Romney were working crowds in Florida, and Johnson was hiking in Taos, New Mexico. Can't say as I blame him, but the act of running for president does require a delusional belief in one's own significance that Johnson doesn't seem to hold.

...he does [say] that reaching election day last year "was kind of like being let out of prison."
It's sobering to think that Teddy Roosevelt was able to go camping in Yosemite with John Muir, while he was in office - but if someone is that much of a normal, whole human being today, their chances of getting elected are probably close to zero.

Monday, February 18, 2013

A New Fairy Tale


In Hungeree, from the Rose Carnival in Cologne.

What I love is that it's insulting to everyone involved, although the symbolic scheme is admittedly a little heavy-handed. For clarity, the pig facing the camera is Italy.

Monday, March 12, 2012

The Most Literal Sense of Intrusive Government

I try to keep this blog family friendly so you'll have to click through for someone with a very clear, concrete understanding of intrusive government. (More info on the issue here.)

Sunday, February 26, 2012

"Delivery Service Fills Pot Hole"

No, this is not a story about private services taking over road maintenance.

Friday, November 25, 2011

Is That Gravy...or ANTHRAX?

"...when markets respond to the demands of Muslim consumers, freedom dies."

- Adam Serwer at Mother Jones, on Pamela Geller's Islamic turkey warnings

Monday, August 29, 2011

PSA: Bow Ties

A colleague was kind enough to volunteer for his friends' bow-tie instructional video:

How to Tie a Bow Tie from Keith Paugh on Vimeo.



I think this guy missed his calling.

Friday, August 26, 2011

Quote of the Day

"How about a [holi]day named after a generic old person? They vote too, and this could be done while limiting the "doc fix" to trick them into submission before preparing the ice floes. But how to make it polite? "Oldies Day" won't cut it..."

-Tyler Cowen on who will get the next U.S. national holiday


See? No one's using any of those.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Finally My Tragic Artistic Genius Has Been Recognized

I entered a "freestanding art" piece in the UCSD grad student art show. There's no picture here, because there's no need. It was just one of those old plastic boxes used for holding cassettes, with 15 cassettes in it - Megadeth, Skid Row, etc. - and if you're under about 30 and you don't know what I'm talking about, my trying to explain it further won't help. I was about to give or throw it away anyway, and for grins I thought I would tug on some nostalgia strings by setting it out unaltered and titling it "Still Can't Go Back".

It won third place.

Not only is this an insult to the amazing talent obviously required for my spraypaint-on-canvas piece Black's Beach (which I also entered but which garnered little attention), it in general is a high indictment of the UCSD community's taste in art! (Sniff.) Mostly I'm mad because 3rd place has no prize money or certificates. Do you think Dali had to deal with this kind of thing? Did Velasquez give up when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor?

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Brilliant Review of Joyce's Ulysses

Ulysses is an overwrought, overwritten epic of gratingly obvious, self-congratulatory, show-off erudition that, with its overstuffed symbolism and leaden attempts at humor, is bearable only by terminal graduate students who demand we validate the time they've wasted reading it.
Ron Rosenbaum is my new hero. I'm going to make an effort to use the phrase "terminal graduate student" every day for a month. (Found via The Daily Dish.)