Told Ya So!

Just wanted to take this opportunity demonstrate how much smarter I am than everybody else.

This morning (Friday, January 15, 2016) I was perusing the news stories on my home page so thoughtfully, albeit slowly, provided by ATT.net.  It is my wont to read anything I find about cosmology (the study of the origins of the Universe, not hair styling) and physics.  Today I hit a treasure trove of personal validation!

 http://finance.yahoo.com/news/two-most-dangerous-numbers-universe-194557366.html

If you tried to read the article to which you were directed by following the link above but found it just a bit too esoteric, welcome to the club.  So, in my humble fashion, I will paraphrase and get to the meat of the matter (meat of the matter, that’s a physics joke… which just goes to show you I am not a humorless nerd).  The article quotes Harry Cliff (no, I don’t know who he is either), “It's the idea that we are reaching the absolute limit of what we can understand about the world around us through science.”  I think he is just being a whiner; probably got turned down for that last grant proposal.  Every time science stalls a bit, someone says, “That’s it, we’ve learned everything it is possible to know.  The rest will remain a mystery!”  Horse Hockey!  But that is not the point of this special blog entry.  The point is for me to brag.

In the article the author references the phenomenon of dark energy.  This is the mysterious force to which cosmologists assign responsibility for the accelerating expansion of the Universe.  While scientists have been able to measure the force, they cannot identify the source or cause.  It is a mystery.  “Still, we don't know what dark energy is," Cliff admits. "But the best idea is that it's the energy of empty space itself — the energy of the vacuum."

I now refer you to my blog posting of April 16, 2014, The Big Suck! in which I wrote:

I will propose that perhaps there is nothing out there; just a big vacuum.  And that our universe is expanding into the void.  That would explain how the expansion is accelerating.  As the stuff in our universe is expanding in all directions, the gravitational attraction of galaxies is weakened by the increasing distance between them, therefore allowing the expansion to accelerate.  The universe is not being pushed from within, but pulled from without!

Huzzah!  Yes, I’m tooting my horn.  Basking in my own self-generated spotlight.  You are so lucky to know me.  Nobel nominations should be submitted by September one.  Now, if only I could do the math.

$1.5 Billion!

Powerball mania is sweeping the globe.  People from states that do not participate in the contest are journeying to those that do.  Persons living outside the country are traveling for the chance to win the big pot.  I am nonplussed.  Being a numbers guy, I am too much aware of the odds involved and so, am unable to generate and enthusiasm for participating. Add to that my personal history of having never won a contest of any kind that was based on pure chance, I would rather spend the money on a well-made burrito.  At least then I would know the true value of my purchase.  And that funny feeling in the pit of my stomach wouldn’t be a response to the realization that my dreams had been dashed against the rocks of disappointment, but rather a mild case of indigestion.

And how about that question that everyone asks, “What would you do with all of that money?”  I believe the answer to that question is fairly obvious.  First, you would spend a great deal of time, money and energy laying out a plan with a very high-powered tax attorney.  Second, you would spend the majority of the rest of your time avoiding the horde of family, friends, strangers and charitable causes eager to feed from the crumbs falling off of the edges of your new-found fortune.

But just suppose you were to escape the neuroses and guilt with a bit of your fortune intact.  How would you spend it?  Remember, you probably opted for the lump sum payment (most financial advisors would suggest that option… oh yeah, you’re going to want a really talented CFP too) so right off the top you’re giving away about one-half of the face value; you start with about $750 million.  Don’t panic, your CFP will be able to design a strategy by which you earn more through wise investing than you gave up by taking the cash value.  Next in line will be the government taxing authorities to collect their shares.  Let’s say you are lucky enough to live in a state that exempts lottery winnings from state taxation.  Then we will set your federal tax rate at somewhere around forty percent (that’s a nice round number).  You know have $450 million.  Humph!  Even using rounding, you can’t call yourself a billionaire.

So now that you have arrived at a usable figure that you can spend, what do you want to buy?  Well, do you like to travel?  I would bet that most people, especially those likely to buy power ball tickets, have seen little of the world in which they live and believe this would be a good use of their new found wealth.  But then Europe is being overrun with Semitic refugees some of whom are prone to disruptive behavior; you may want to put that off until later.  One could always travel to Latin America.  However, it seems that so much of the available labor force has emigrated to the United States, that there wouldn’t be anyone left to provide that first class service you will want to become accustom to as a “one-third of a billionaire”.  India?  Too hot and crowded.  Asia?  Much sword rattling going on recently.  Africa? Malaria!  Australia?  Woman shortage.  Russia?  Too cold.  Now I have heard that New Zealand is a wonderful place full of friendly people.  But then you have enough money to buy the whole county.  What would you do with all those sheep.  I mean, with global warming being such an imminent threat, sweater manufacturing is a declining industry.

Well, maybe domestic travel would be more to your liking.  Road trip?  I mean, you could buy any kind of car you wanted: Mercedes, Jaguar, Aston-Martin, Bentley, Rolls-Royce.  As nice as those automobiles are though, you see them everywhere.  They wouldn’t really mark you as a top-tier traveler.  How about a first-class motor home?  But then every retired teacher has one of those (good union, good retirement).

You certainly would not continue in your job.  Just think how much extra time you would have by ditching that eight-hour routine.  With all that extra time, you could spend more with the spouse to reinvigorate the old romance.  You might as well, statistics show that of couples who win a big jackpot, ninety-eight percent stay married.  There were no statistics available for how may started taking separate vacations.  Or you could start that hobby you were always interested in.  Of course, you have enough money now that you could just pay someone who knows what they’re doing to build all of that custom furniture.

How about a new house?  With your fortune you could live in any zip code you wished.  But do you really want your old friends scratching up that travertine floor with their Red Wing boots?  You’re comfortable in the old digs anyway.  Who needs more rooms to clean?  But on the other hand, you could hire a maid, give the missus an opportunity to get out of the house on her own.  That’s it!  You need a maid!

Absurdum Tempestas

If you follow my musings you know that I am not a global warming denier, but very skeptical about the influence of human activity, likelihood of catastrophic (existential) outcomes, and the need for radical action that would unbalance the global economy.  I am very confident of my position because I listen to the argument put forth by “the majority of the scientific community” versus that professed by career meteorologists.  And to my ear, the people who actually make their living studying weather phenomena and can understand the physics involved (the meteorologists, in case it wasn’t clear), make the most cogent argument regarding the runaway greenhouse effect, which to date can be distilled into one neat little package.  Hooey!

Then there are the astronomers.  I like people who have figured out a way to make a living staring at the sky.  I only wish I could have been born with the math genes that would allow me to joint their ranks.  Unfortunately, once I try to cross that bridge separating algebra from arithmetic, a nasty troll emerges with his big stick and knocks me into a ditch.  But I digress.  The point is, the astronomers are telling me that the earth’s atmosphere is warming because the energy output from the sun has been, since birth, increasing and will continue to do so until it runs out of fuel (5 billion years, give or take a millennium), and we don’t want to be around for that.  Fortunately, we won’t, as temperature increases brought about by this natural phenomenon will make the planet untenable for human life in somewhere between 10,000 to 100,000 years (boy I wish I’d had that kind of margin of error when working up cash flow projections).

So I get kind of annoyed when people on the green train tell me what kind of light bulbs to use and such.  But today, I am taking a more cautious posture toward this weather thing.  For the first time in my life, I am living under the threat of a tornado alert (per KGTV).  Yes, right here in San Diego… and that starts with “S” … and that stands for “Shit!”

Now I am no expert, but I have been living under the impression that tornados were warm weather phenomena.  And let me tell you, it has not been warm or anywhere near it here in paradise for the past few weeks.  Like right now I’m sitting here typing away on this masterpiece at 1642 hrs. (PST) and it is sixty-four (64^oF) degrees… indoors!  I don’t know where you all come from, but 64^o is not warm!

Now I know some of my readers live in harsher climes where these conditions would seem downright balmy.  But wearing a flannel shirt around the house is just unnatural.  If God had intended us to gird ourselves against the weather, he would have given us fur.  Come to think of it, chimpanzees have lots of body hair and they live in the tropics.  I’m starting to wonder if Darwin may have missed a few links.

Well anyway, if you don’t hear from me next week. just assume I was sucked up to Oz in a twister.  After all, I do live on The Yellow Brick Road (yeah, I do… really!).

 

Freedom!

… Oh, sorry, that was a mis-type.  I meant Free Dom!  Open up a bottle of the bubbly to celebrate the turn of the New Year.  I think we’re all going to need a little anesthetizing to get through 2016. (If you don’t understand the word play resident in the opening, e-mail me under separate cover and I will individualize a witty, sarcastic retort tailored to your specific likelihood to be offended.)

I am afraid that the upcoming Presidential (et al) election, while showing early signs of providing some level of humorous entertainment, will be distilled to the ever widening and deepening usual party politics.  Now I have promised to avoid political commentary as much as I could and I promise this rant will not turn in the direction of an endorsement of either party or candidate.  I hate them all.

One of the fundamental flaws of our current state of self-government is that we have turned over its operation to mercenaries.  You probably know, if you are among my highly educated readership, that originally our representatives (congressmen, in case you have already gotten lost) served as a matter of civic duty being remunerated only by per diem recompense for expenses incurred in furtherance of their service.  Today, they are paid nearly $200,000 per year (probably considerably more when all perks and benefits are added to the sum); why wouldn’t they fight tooth and nail to retain their positions?  And although the focus of party hoopla is the Presidential seat, it is in Congress that the real power lies.  Every four years we debate the merits of this candidate over that and totally ignore the real problem, that those truly important changes that we look to them to make (regardless of which direction you want the government to turn) are not under the control of the President, but of Congress.  We complain that nothing gets done then reelect the same clowns to Congress, or their party backed heirs, in the case of retirements, that vow to make real change when in fact it is in their best interest to maintain the status quo!

Perhaps it is true that while we shout our displeasure with the state of the State, we in fact also want the return of the “don’t rock the boat candidate”.  Without assessing relative merit, it looked like this time we would at least be entertained somewhat by those vying for political power, but even eleven months out it looks like were forming up ranks along the same old lines.

“So Dale,” you ask, “what is your solution?”  Well, Turner Classic Movies (TCM) is running a Marx Brothers marathon today.   Need I say more, Mrs.Potter?

Christmas Special Best-ees

Last year about this time I wrote a piece on the best Christmas films from the Golden Age of Hollywood (Golden Holiday Bestees Dec. 4, 2014).  And when I say best, I of course mean my favorite.  All objective analysis of these choices was avoided with the utmost diligence.

This year, I will grace your holiday season with my opinion as regards the best animated television specials of Christmas.  I have set a self-imposed limit of five programs, quite arbitrarily.  If your favorite did not warrant inclusion on my list, it is either because your taste is horrible or you are so much younger than I that our experiences do not overlap.  If you don’t care for my choices, shut up and start your own blog.  Now, in the true spirit of the season, the best animated television programs of the Christmas Holiday:

No. 5 – A Charlie Brown Christmas (first aired Dec. 9, 1965 – CBS) Directed by Bill Melendez.  You are Probably asking, “How can a beloved icon like A Charlie Brown Christmas rank so low?”  Because the main vehicle for humor in this timeless classic is pathos (look it up!).  The whole plot revolves around a kid who is sad because nobody can tell him the true meaning of Christmas.  It is all introspective crap!  Please understand me.  I grew up on Charles M. Schultz’ comic strip.  It is probably the best newspaper comic ever.  If you want to laugh yourself silly get hold of one of the retrospective volumes that contain the strips from the first ten years.  The kids lived in a kid’s universe, dealing with the challenges of understanding their world.  Then all of a sudden (maybe it was part of the Viet Nam syndrome) about this time, Schultz turned philosophic and the beagle (Snoopy) became the only funny character.  Still, you (or at least, I) cannot watch this, or even hear the ubiquitous theme music, without getting a bit nostalgic for those years between Santa Claus and gift certificates.

No. 4 – Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer (first aired Dec. 6, 1964 – NBC) A stop-motion animation (if you don’t know what that means, think Gumby) special produced by Rankin-Bass, this tale of potential unrecognized is the longest running Christmas special of all time, marking fifty years in 2014.  We all know the song, but who among us can name (without help) the eight tiny reindeer whose careers were minimized by the upstart with the electric nose?  What really sets this story apart from most song-based cartoons is the introduction of characters unique to the teleplay: Hermey the elf who wants to trade in his toy-making tools for a dentist’s drill; Yukon Cornelius, a prospector who tutors Rudolph on the value of self-esteem; and the Abominable Snow Monster of the North who adds absolutely nothing to the fabric of the story but elicits laughs from children and me.  I, like most children of blue collar parents, was forced to imagine Rudolph’s nose of red, as we were all still sucking at the teat of the black & white Philco.  Remember, “Bumbles bounce!”

No. 3 – Mister Magoo’s Christmas Carol (first aired Dec. 18, 1962 – NBC) This was the first animated holiday special specifically produced for television.  It is a musical version of the Charles Dickens’ Christmas tale of Ebenezer Scrooge.  Yeah, we all know the story now (there must be some reason so many versions of this parable have been produced, like greatness) but for my generation, this was our introduction to Victorian Era literature.  And in my case it worked… caught like a fish on a hook. I will forgo this opportunity to bore you with my opinions of nineteenth century literature. What made it work for us baby-boomer tykes, of course, was the talent of Mr. Jim Backus, voice of Mr. Magoo.  Add to that easily memorized song lyrics like, “La, la… la, la, la, la, laah!” and “Ringle, ringle, coins when they jingle make such a lovely noise!” …well, it was destined to be a classic.  The downside was the poor production quality resultant of the cost of animation.  But for its role in raising our cultural I.Q., it rates a high position on my list.

No. 2 – How the Grinch Stole Christmas! (first aired Dec. 18, 1966 – CBS) Mix authorship by Dr. Seuss, direction by Chuck Jones (Warner Bros. animation) and narration (plus the voice of the Grinch) by Boris Karloff; how can you lose?  Well, seems you can’t.  This gem from the days of hand-drawn animation has every element of a classic.  I will not labor your emotions by repeating the plot here, ‘cause everybody knows it from the top of Mt. Crumpit to the streets of Whoville.  The best part is the Grinch’s sleigh ride with his dog Max disguised as a reindeer; I still nearly bust a gut laughing and I’ve been watching this thing since I was twelve years old.  Now, every one, with your best voce di basso, “You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch…”

Wallace and Gromit

No. 1 – Intentionally Left Blank  I know what you’re thinking, “But Dale, I’ve never heard of that one before.”  That’s because I’m reserving this space for something yet to come: A Wallace and Gromit Christmas Special.  It seems so obvious that I can’t believe nobody has ever thought of it.  “Who are Wallace and Gromit?” you ask.  They are the creation of one Nick Park, aka Aardman Animations.  Claymation (stop-motion animation) characters; a man (Wallace) and his uber-intelligent dog (Gromit).  I was first introduced to them via the Spike and Mike Animated Film Festival that used to play at the La Jolla Museum of Modern Art.  The finale film was The Wrong Trousers; (released Dec. 26, 1993).  Despite the proximity to the great holiday, it is not a Christmas story.  Nor are the other three shorts and one feature length offering.  These are commercially available on DVD if you haven’t seen them.  I feel the feature length Curse of the Were-Rabbit stalled as is often the case when attempting to stretch short-subject material too far; one gets too much of a good thing.  Editorializing aside, a Christmas themed story would be the perfect platform for the antics of Wallace and Gromit… in the meantime, make sure you see their other hilarious adventures.

So, Where's the Blog?

I know what you’re thinking and you’re wrong.  I was not captured by pirates, well not the kind you think.  In fact, I made a good faith effort to write and post a blog entry last week but the fates conspired against me.  The subject of the much anticipated missive was animated Christmas specials.  And you would have loved it.  But circumstances beyond my power took control and blocked my effort.  So here is my sad, sad, happy ending story. 

Over the last few weeks my six-year old Fujitsu laptop computer had demonstrated growing indications of obsolescence. It was running slow.  I was encountering an increasing number and frequency of screen lockups.  Some weeks ago the gods of computing had advised me that Microsoft would no longer support my Windows Vista operating system.  I downloaded the offered Mozilla Firefox remedial software.  But it did not perform as Vista had when new.  So, succumbing to frustration, I decided to purchase a new machine.  And the climax occurred Wednesday last week as I was authoring your weekly treat.  I opted to break from my efforts, make my purchase the following day then complete my opus. 

I am more a features shopper than bargain hunter.  I like to touch what I buy before laying out the cash (or as in this case, borrow from VISA using their billing cycle to float the outlay into next month).  So my favorite tech supply option is Fry’s.  They generally have three or four more models available for immediate purchase and delivery than any competitor, their advising staff actually listen to ones questions and make a good effort to direct the customer to a satisfactory acquisition. 

Within one-half hour of entering the store I was on my way with my new HP Envy laptop under my arm.  Well actually, it was in a shopping cart as I took advantage of their offer to sell me a new HP printer for an additional twenty-five (yes, $25) dollars.  I also purchased the most recent version of Microsoft Office as I was currently working with the 2007 model.  For me, it’s all about compatibility.  

So scurrying home all anxious to set up my new toy…um, tool, my plan to complete my blog post before too late in the day was coming together nicely.  Do you remember your first personal computer purchase?  Before you could push the start button you had to read a three-hundred-page manual, diagram a plan of attack and make at least one trip back to the store to pick up the cable that was not included with the purchased hardware.  Ah, those were the days when setting up electronic devices of any kind separated the men from the boys.  

Not so in our modern age.  The manual of operation has been reduced to a one-page, cartoon-drawn instruction sheet that indicates the location of the power-supply connection port, the power button, and the Wi-Fi connection button. And that’s it; flaps-down, full-power, wheels up… fly boy, fly! 

The next step then was to set up the printer.  Same discipline; power cord, Wi-Fi connection, install printer drivers to computer.  Wait, there is no disk drive installed in this computer.  Of course silly, this is the era of the cloud.  One simply locates the appropriate web site as per instructions and downloads the necessary software; smooth.  And hide your surprise, I did this without difficulty.  Now one last step, load the Microsoft Office suite of applications. 

Once again, as with the printer drivers, one is expected to locate the appropriate web site and using a twenty-five-digit code (you know, there are only twenty-six digits in the whole stinking alphabet) to prove valid purchase.  Once validated the, software loads itself magically onto the hard drive ready to meet ones every clerical need.  And so I proceeded. 

Wait a minute.  The web site is responding with an error code: not an indication that I miss keyed the password, but an error code.  This is why I don’t use ointment, there are always flies lurking about.  Hallo!  There is a 1-8XX number displayed on the screen instructing the user to call in just such an occurrence.  Well, it seems rather old fashioned to use a voice communication device when dealing with high-speed data transfer issues but if it must be… 

Of course, the respondent at the other end of the line had an eastern accent (I’ll guess Indian, but the din of other voices in the background was of such volume I couldn’t be sure) and politely asked me how he could help.  I explained my dilemma.

“Perhaps your version of Microsoft Office is not compatible with your Window’s operating system.’ He suggested in his overly conciliatory manner.  I thought to myself, “Widows 10; brand new.  Microsoft Office 2016; brand new: Incompatibility unlikely!”  He continued, ‘There must be a problem with your computer.  May I have permission to sign into your computer and check?”  This is where I should have stopped the process and regrouped.  But, anxious to get this train on the tracks I agreed.  Mowgli put me on hold.

When he returned my computer screen was putting itself through some diagnostic gymnastics.  It did this for a few minutes and stopped.  Punjab came back on the phone and highlighted some indecipherable language on my screen.  “You have a Trojan virus on your computer.  We have to remove that before we can install Office.” 

“What are you talking about?”, I asked rather accusingly, “I just bought this thing today!  How did I get a virus?” 

“Well, I can’t answer that question, Sahib.  But we can remove it and help you with your problem.”  And then a table popped up on my screen listing different time periods and how much their anti-virus protection for said durations would cost:  One hundred fifty dollars for one to two years; $499 for lifetime protection.  I felt like Rikki-tikki-tavi in a spitting contest with a cobra.

“Okay Gunga Din, I get it now.  You’ve scammed me.  Now close out all those windows and get out of my computer!”  I hung up while he was squawking something or other and shut down my machine.  I rebooted and changed my password.  Then I packed up the machine and hustled off to Fry’s, arriving about six o’clock.  The service desk was not busy… just wait until the day after Christmas.  I explained to the technician the events of the day. He turned on my machine and found I had indeed been hacked.  He offered to wipe the hard drive and reload all of the original software, if he could.  He started the process.  At seven o’clock his shift ended and he explained the situation to his coworker, “If you can’t get this to load, just swap out a new computer for him if they have one in stock.”  He also gave me a phone number for Microsoft that he knew to be reliable and instructed I call them for assistance with the Office download so as not to get sucked into another scam website. 

About nine o’clock, the second technician and I agreed the new operating system was not loading. At ten after nine, I was showing my receipt to the guy at the door, new computer under my arm. By the time I arrived home, I was too fatigued to mess with computers and such.  But the next morning, I brought the machine to life and loaded the printer drivers.  Then I called Microsoft and got a competent tech speaking understandable English in a quiet environment.  She patiently walked me through each step including identifying the correct website.  Several times she stated I could proceed on my own but when I asked her to stick with me she did all the way to the end.  She even called me three hours later to make sure everything was working to my satisfaction.  I considered this to be very good customer service. 

But the real heroes in this story are the guys at Fry’s.  They had no culpability in my failure to successfully install the Office software.  Failing to find the correct website we solely on me.  Yet, without prompting from me, and without running it up the chain of command, they made sure I left their store with a brand new, perfectly healthy computer. 

Lesson to us all:  In these days of web acquired games, software and media, electronic piracy and hostage taking is blossoming as an industry.  Sadly, there is little that can be done to pursue and prosecute such criminal activity because of its anonymous nature.  It is up to us to be weary and proceed very carefully when doing business with web based providers. 

Oh yeah, the point of this story… shop at Fry’s! 

Stay tuned; next week… best Christmas animated specials of all time!

Eco-Crisis, comme ci, comme ca

Contrary to appearances this treatise is not a political polemic.  Rather, it is a skeptical analysis of “dogma” currently being bandied about in contextual proximity to the recently concluded 2015 United Nations Climate Change Conference.  I will not argue data as that exercise becomes a tedious tit-for-tat exchange not dissimilar to the juvenile ritual of sticking ones tongue out at another.  While generally emotionally satisfying, it very rarely results in a reconsideration of tightly held dogmatic position.  In plain English (or as close as I can allow myself to come to that vulgar level of communication), you cannot argue with a brick.

So instead, I will employ the Socratic method of asking questions in hopes that the answers you, the reader,  provide will illuminate new and alternative paths of understanding.

Question number one:  If ninety-nine percent of all species that have inhabited the Earth are now extinct, how can we be so egotistic as to believe that human activity alone will be responsible for the next mass extinction?

Question number two:  If the sun is the source of heat energy that drives our climate (just stand in a non-shaded spot for a while, even on a cool day), and the sun’s energy output has been increasing steadily since the day of ignition (about four and one-half billion years ago), how can we assign blame to human activity for the gradual increase in ocean temperatures on our planet (well, it’s not really our planet so much as we are its inhabitants… new tenants will gladly take ownership in the event of our departure, see question number one)?

Questions number three and four:  How can we use Venus’ atmosphere (the planet, not the Roman goddess) for making predictions about green house gasses on Earth when the chemical composition (CO₂ on Venus is 96.5% of the atmosphere, on Earth it is 0.04%) of their respective atmospheres is so different?  And how can one cite the temperatures on Venus as a future model for Earth when Venus is (average) 67 million miles from the sun compared to the 93 million miles for Earth?

Question number five:  When charging animal husbandry since the nineteenth century with adding untold amounts of methane (CO₂’s delinquent younger sibling in the green house gas hierarchy) to our atmosphere, how does one account for the tens of millions of American Bison (buffalo) that roamed the plains for eons prior to European settlement and westward expansion?  Don’t buffalo fart?

I believe I have given you enough to think about for this week.  And please, don’t exhale so much.