I Read

I keep hearing people say things like, "I don't read." As in, they don't read books. That's a pretty sad lookout for the world at large, I'm afraid.

I will not be so snobbish as to believe that everyone should read the same ten "great books;" that's tedious in the extreme. Nor do I argue that books are the only things worthwhile to do with your time. I think that people who do hold those views are exactly what is scaring people away from reading in the first place. I just don't understand how you can go through your life not making use of what is arguably the greatest invention in human history: writing.

I love to read. I don't do as much of it as I ought to; I'm busy wasting my time, mostly. And I don't read classics of Western Literature; I read crap, mostly. But I do read, and I love reading.

I guess I don't get it. How can you not read? Reading is great. It doesn't have to be educational, or forced on you. Reading for pleasure... eh, I can't convince anyone anyway.

If you're reading this, you can thank the human brain for the ability to do so. If you're not, how are you consuming it? I exempt the blind (mostly) and people with disabilities who don't read because they can't. But reading is terrific. I've said that more times than I planned to.

One Laptop Per Child

There are many things about technology I dislike; blogging is probably numbered among them. I'm not at all certain that most of the technology to which I have access makes me a better person, or enriches my life in a way I couldn't do without and be a better person for it. And I'm definitely less than enthusiastic about the amount of time children seem to be spending, nay, be encouraged to spend, on computers or the like.

But I also understand the necessity of teaching children about technology because it is (unfortunate or not) a fact of life. It's like teaching children to drive: you may think that cars are horrible planet-polluting hunks of death, but unless you're planning on raising your children Amish or something similar, chances are good that they won't be able to escape cars. So it's important for them to learn to drive even if you raise them to hate cars as much as you do, because there's one thing less safe than a car, and that's a car with a driver who doesn't really know how to drive.

Computers are similar. They're everywhere, and most people are forced to use them at one time or another. And there are few things as disastrous in the computer world as an unschooled user. The user is what causes most security vulnerabilities, most errors, and most everything else. And they don't just louse up their own computers, either. So computer education is extremely important, for everyone, not just children.

Which is why I find the One Laptop Per Child thing so frustrating. It enables computer education, sure. It's hard to teach a child to use a computer without a computer for them to use. But most people's idea of computer education seems to be, "Well, give them a computer and the rest will follow." That's like teaching driver's ed by giving all 15-year-olds cars and letting them go out and get experience. We don't do that, do we?

Nor do we have car companies offering cheap, "learners" cars for children. Because they're only interested in the bottom line (as many computer manufacturers seem to be) but also because the funding for that program is sent instead (and rightfully so) to fund Drivers Ed programs.

So why are we spending all this money to provide children with laptops? It looks good on paper, I guess. But since all that money goes to providing the computer, none of it goes to teaching the children how to use it. I don't know many programs like that, but I'm fairly insular.

So Nicolas Negroponte, if you really want to help the world, you have to think about more than just supplying everyone with computers. That's a necessary component, sure, but there should also be education to go with it. After all, we don't let people drive until they pass a test. Maybe we shouldn't let people use computers until they do the same. Try parallel parking a Cray.

You Got Dooby in My Funk

Get your damn religion out of my politics you dirty ape!

Okay, I've beaten this into the ground, but it continues to pop up like those demented mechanical moles in the carnival game. So let me be crystal clear about it, so hopefully I can just say I've said it before.

I do not care about religion. That's right, you heard me. I don't care if you're Partially-Reformed Presbopiscipalutherjewislamihindu. Or any other thing I might have left out. You know what, I don't give a rat's ass about it.

Stop wearing it like a badge. I don't tell people what religion I am all the time. I don't bring it out at parties like photos of my latest child. I don't base my political career (such as it is) on my religion. In point of fact, I would be willing to bet that most people don't know what religion I am.

If I were a priest of some kind, then I guess I could put it on my business cards, if I had any. And I suppose I could let people know I was a priest in case they needed spiritual advice from someone. But you know what? I might not. I might keep it quiet. And I certainly wouldn't drag it out at every opportunity.

I don't care about your stupid religion. Guess what: many people feel the same way I do. They don't care whether or not you're religious at all. Those people are the people who don't speak up during debates, who don't read articles with headlines extolling the faith of various politicos. I, and they, don't care.

So shut the hell up about it.

Short one today; I'm steamed up.

Rated O for Out-of-File

Remember my discussion of metrics a few days ago? No? Why not? Don't you read this blog religiously, then memorize its contents for further rumination during the long hours of candlelight vigil you spend hunched over an altar depicting what you imagine my face to look like? Darn.

Okay, well, it's here. You can still ignore it, but you have less reason to do so.

Well, the long and the short of it is that I've discovered yet another metric, and this time it's fun.

Apparently, I included the word "sex" in my blog one too many times for public consumption.

My questions are myriad, but mostly boil down to: "Are you a complete idiot?" Because my blog includes words which are way worse than "sex" (and by including that word multiple times, I might just change my rating). In fact, I've cursed up a blue streak, talked about intimate bodily parts, and lacked support for my troops (how they became mine I'm not certain).

But the other aspect of this metric is that it seems to only measure the front page of the blog, and so I imagine that the rating would change over time if a particularly spicy entry was posted. I don't know for sure, and they don't seem to be interested in making that disclosure. Which is why you can't trust metrics.

While this is all a thinly-veiled attempt to recount an amusing thing, it does get me thinking about movie ratings. They're decided by an industry body, did you know that? No government regulator there. And they're completely relative; I've seen movies get PG ratings for things which nowadays would earn an R, and vice-versa. They're deliberately vague, and the categories are so few as to lump many smaller phenotypes together under an umbrella of "caution."

Why do we pay any attention to movie ratings? They're no more reliable than the local paper as far as content-judgement is concerned. If you're the type of person who doesn't want your children to be exposed to exactly three or more instances of cursing, then I guess you might have a little use for ratings, but like I said, there's no published rule-set for what constitutes what rating as far as instances of cursing are concerned. So you're out of luck.

The metric of movie ratings is a case-study in how to obfuscate metrics: don't tell us how they work, determine them yourself for your own products, make them vague, give them enough categories to make it seem like thought went into their production, but not enough to tell anything substantive to the user... the list could go on and on. I know it's probably possible to discover information about rating rules and so on, but how many average movie-goers will? Or will they just trust the system because it seems right? I bet the latter, myself.

So don't trust metrics, especially metrics derived from computer-parsing of text, because computers are really very bad at figuring out context. If you think this is all overkill for something which was obviously designed as a joke, just consider that more and more schools are relying on computer programs to evaluate students' essays. I know that teachers are overstretched, but come on.

Spell Check This

Okay, I've had it up to here with spell checkers. Why is it that people seem to put so much thought into certain sections of their word lists and not others?

For instance, Blogger knows how to spell "Pfizer." But although it can spell "televangelist," it cannot deal with the simple concept that one might possess something. Therefore, "televangelist's" is out. I know, that's not a plural, and probably a lot of people use it that way, but while they are wrong, how hard is it really to teach your stupid spell checker to add apostrophes. Blogger can't even cope with the idea that "anyone" might be a possessive.

Then, of course, there's Microsoft, who can spell all of their products but fall over backwards if you ask them to spell products produced by a different company. There's the fact that they seem to glean words from the Internet without regard to said words' actual meaning. So one gets numerous acronyms passed along cheerfully as words (this isn't just Microsoft's problem).

How hard is it really? I'm not asking for a dictionary; the spell checker doesn't have to know what the word means, just how to spell it. If you can spend all your time making sure that the latest techno-jargon is in your word list, you can make sure that all the other words in the English language are as well. Guess what: you can even crib from dictionaries. It may come as a shock to some, but one cannot copyright individual words. So search through an actual book for words not in the list. I know, it's tough, what with everyone expecting every piece of information to appear in a digital form these days, but you never know.

I'm not a particularly hot speller, but at least I can recognize when things are words that should be spelled correctly. I don't expect dictionaries to include words like, "pastramification," for instance. I might use those words, but I won't be upset if the spell checker doesn't recognize them.

Come on spell checkers, clean up your act. If there can be an ANSII standard for programming languages and complicated specifications, why can't they step in and produce an ANSII word list for spell checkers. Blogger can't even spell ANSII.

They Aren't Preaching For Free

Hello, and welcome to the cavalcade of fun that is organized religion in the world. Today we'll be talking about something near and dear to my heart, television preachers. Specifically, how they are nearly always more wealthy than I will ever be.

I'm not knocking the acquisition of money. Far from it; I happen to be quite fond of money, especially in its function as a purchasing agent for goods and services I happen to need. And I'm not interested in talking about the politics of greed; maybe some other time.

But you have to take a good hard look at television preachers who claim to be giving all their money to the poor or devoting it all to their ministries. Because what is, "devoting all my money to my ministry," really? If you are your own ministry, then you could give all your ministry's money to yourself and be completely free and clear. And since none of said money is taxable under our wonderful system of state-church separation, you would be making a lot of money from your ministry.

Specifically, I'd just like to point out something which came to my attention recently. I don't even think I'm going to try to draw any conclusions from it for you. I'm just going to mention it, because it's something that is plain enough to see but which I never noticed until just a few days ago (relatively speaking).

Televangelists don't have commercials during their shows. No, I don't mean the commercials they show during their shows for products they personally sell, or they endorse, or events at which they will be speaking (for money, most likely). I mean there are no car commercials during their shows. No feminine hygiene products are advertised during breaks in their sermons. No toys, no movies, no new drugs by Pfizer. No commercials.

Why? Because televangelists' programs are technically classified as infomercials, and you may have noticed that the half-hour-long commercials for exercises equipment (et al) are not replete with commercials for other products either. Those advertisers buy up the entire time slot and show one long commercial.

So if televangelists can afford to do that as well, they can't be too poor, now can they? In fact, you could view the whole thing as commercials for religion. And those commercials, even at non-peak viewing times like Sunday morning, still cost a fair amount of money. Money which is not being used to feed the poor.

Now one could argue that it's money well spent. After all, it brings the message of the televangelist to millions of people. And that might be right. But it also brings the message of giving that televangelist money to millions of people. And the message of that televangelist's wonderful products, available at low, low prices. And so on.

I'm not here to bash televangelists. I just never realized before that their shows had no commercial breaks. Which makes them infomercials. And I don't know about you, but I'd like my salvation to come from something other than a medium for selling "AS SEEN ON TV" products. Maybe it's just me.

What's Your Angle

You're a good person, right? You're entirely without selfish motives. You never do anything for reasons other than desiring the best for humanity.

Guess what? You're a liar. Don't feel ashamed; we all want to think the best about ourselves (well, not all of us, but certainly most of us), and we all tell little fibs like the ones above. I do it, and I'm sure you do too. Even the best people do it; in fact, there's a school of thought which says that only by acknowledging your faults can you really be truly good, so I would imagine that people of that school probably would be happy to tell you that they occasionally believe better of themselves than they actually are.

But in even more interesting news, it doesn't matter, because even if you're a completely selfless individual who's only looking out for the greatest good, your definition of selfless and greatest good constitute an agenda of some sort, which means that you have a motivating factor for the things you do. The only way to avoid the upcoming discussion is to be a creature of perfect apathy, and that's hard to accomplish.

So we all have reasons behind what we do. We may be perfectly open about said reasons, even if they aren't noble. There are many people who are completely honest about their motivations for doing bad things (although there's another school of thought which posits that these people are only being honest because it keeps them from having to accept the motivations, but I'm not interested in talking psychology). Why is this important?

Well, you should always be asking, "What's their angle?" Again, as in all my previous paranoid posts, I'm not advocating universal distrust. But if someone does something for no good reason, even if it benefits you, it often pays to look that gift horse in the mouth.

Sure, occasionally it can come back to bite you. Someone really did do something for you for no benefit to them. But you don't have to let them know you're suspicious; suspicion can take many forms. Be quietly suspicious. Try to figure out what their motives are. If they say they're doing it for your good, figure out if they're telling the truth.

And sometimes it's true; they really are being good people, or at least being good to you. They really are only acting for your benefit. There's nothing wrong with that. Sometimes they have an angle, but it's nothing surprising. Big companies don't give things away for free; they want to get something in return. But if that big company gets something from you that you feel is a fair trade for what they give, what's the problem with that? If a loss leader (or here since I don't completely trust wikipedia) works out in your favor, and you were going to buy the product anyway, what's wrong with that?

But you can't know there's no harm in it unless you figure out what their angle is, can you? There's no harm in simply thinking about it rationally; it doesn't mean you have to pass up on an offer, just make sure you know what you're getting into, what you're giving in return for the "free lunch" as it were. Maybe it's more than you think. It only takes once, and when all it takes to prevent this is some simple thought (combined with a little healthy suspicion) what's the harm in that?

Remember, don't trust them to tell you what their angle is.

Politically Correct

Why is it politically correct? Why not "socially correct" or "unbiased with regard to sex, race, creed, nationality, etc?" What's politics got to do with it?

I call on polite and unbiased people everywhere to throw off the shackles of "political correctness" and embrace some less-biased term. Because, you see, politically correct implies that there is some political slant to being polite, and that's either a slur toward liberals (they're such wussy people that they feel a need to be politically correct) or conservatives (they're such politically incorrect people, which includes no only their rudeness to members of other statistical groupings, but also in all the rest of their politics).

In fact, the mistaken belief that, "liberal," means, "politically correct," and, "conservative," means, "unregenerate biased asshole," is bull anyway. Why can't you be polite and for smaller government? Again with the lumping together of views. I happen to be fairly fiscally conservative (although extremely socially liberal, as can be seen by my complete and total embrace of sin and vice... every Friday down at Joe's [rim shot]), but I'm also fairly polite, at least when I want to be. It's just common courtesy not to insult people; there's nothing political about it.

So the hell with "political correctness." Let's just call it what it is: consideration. If one can be tarred with the epithet of politeness, then tar away. I'll take it.

That said, I am not always polite, and I don't think there's any obligation so to be. Sometimes in the service of a greater goal (usually anger or humor, but we'll leave it for now) one must be prepared to offend some people. And some people are just too damn easy to offend. You can't please everyone. Maybe that's all the political correctness should mean: trying (and failing) to please everyone. In that case, they can have the term; I'm sticking with polite.

Speaking for the People

It's not an original thought, but don't let people speak for you unless you really want them to.

I'll give you an example: if you're a Christian, don't let Pat Robertson speak for you if you disagree with him. And don't let some person who disagrees with him speak for you by default either. Because I disagree with Pat Robertson, but I'm not a Christian and I'm pretty sure I'd make a lousy spokesman for Christians everywhere. So don't let me speak for you either unless you want me to.

Most people just accept spokesmen (and women) by default; you don't have to do that. Just like you shouldn't accept a ruler by default, or a law by default, you shouldn't accept a spokesperson by default if you only sort of agree with them. Make some noise. Most positions aren't two absolutes; there's a lot of ground to be covered between the radical positions on both ends.

But as a country (the United States, although the world seems to be falling into the same trap at large) we have become too eager to let a powerful person present their views with our support even if we only kind-of agree with them. We rationalize it as being the lesser of two evils, or as solidarity in the face of something with which we definitely disagree, or as a vague agreement that doesn't carry as much weight in our minds as it does in reality. Or we're lazy. We just let it happen.

Well I'm here (with a lot of other people) to tell you that you don't need to be co-opted by a mouthpiece. If you agree with some things but not everything, you should let people know that. Don't support someone full-bore just because they're the best thing going. If you want to dissent from party line, you should, nay you must, do it.

This is addressed at everyone, politics notwithstanding. It's a major problem I have with our current political situation; the only options appear to be with or against. Why can't we be both? Why can't one support the Republican president on immigration while being against him on taxes? Why can't one support the War on Terror while being against Iraq? Why can't one support the war in Iraq while being against the erosion of our civil liberties? Why can't one be pro-Union and pro-life? What is it about certain views that they must be held together?

And why do all Independents have to flock together? If you're with neither big party, you're automatically lumped together with people who may have wildly divergent views from your own. For crying out loud, Nazis and Libertarians are both classified as Independent under that reckoning. And according to the media, Michael Bloomberg speaks for all of them. Horsehockey.

Think for yourself, speak for yourself. That's all I ask of anyone. Even if you support someone, you can speak out against them on issues where you differ. And even if you aren't big and powerful, at least you didn't accept someone else's view as your own by default.

Impersonal Pronoun

We've got to get a new pronoun for neuter cases. I mean, got to. I'm tired of typing, "he or she," every time I want to refer to a person without gender. And if I want to refer to a person without personage, it's, "he or she or it." We've got to do better.

Many people use "they." This is wrong. It's used all the time, but it's still wrong. They is plural. Rather, "they" is plural, they are plural. See the problem? I thought not. But at any rate, "they" is incorrect.

I've also heard various noises about, "(s)he," and, "hir," but they'll never fly. For one, they look ridiculous. Who wants to put parentheses in a pronoun? Okay, so I use parentheses a lot, perhaps too much. But within a word? And "hir?" Come now, that's just silly.

Note that I am not for one second saying that we should all just get over it and use "he" and "him" and "his" because that's what we've always done and it's not with regard to sex. Sadly, that argument is sexist, and while I'm not one to be politically correct (and what does that word mean anyway, since it's usually not political at all; wait, note for another time), everyone is not a "him." In certain circumstances, the alternation of pronouns works out, and in others, the use of "her" and "she" as the universal pronoun might work, but in most cases those solutions would be confusing in a way which, sexist or not, the use of "he" and "him" would not be. Again, that's sexist, but I think you'll find that most people would agree that the use of the masculine pronoun is less confusing in gender-neutral situations. It's a function of conditioning; we're used to seeing it. It doesn't make the practice right, but it does make it common.

So are we supposed to refer to everyone as "it?" I've gotten a certain amount of mileage out of "one," as in: "If one were to examine..." The problem is that "one" usually takes the place of the second person singular (i.e. "you" for all those who've forgotten basic grammar). Generally it refers to a specific individual without specificity (a confusing concept, I know). "It" is hard to work around too.

So I guess I'll keep typing, "he or she," or forgetting my manners and just typing, "he," because I'm a horrible person. But consider: if every book in the country referred to unspecified people as, "Conquerors of the Negroid Scum," how long do you think that would last, tradition, expediency, and lack of alternatives taken into consideration? I don't think it would last too long, even if the only reasonable alternative was, "Racially-inclusive groups of individuals." And no one could call that politically-correct namby-pamby-ism.

Well, okay, some people could and would call it just that. See how stupid some people are? Or rather, see how stupid some racially-and-gender-inclusive individuals are?

It's Not Rocket Science

The title of this piece is a common call to most people. Whenever something isn't understood, whenever things don't work the way they should, the aggrieved party, usually either the person who does understand it (or thinks he or she does, anyway), or the person who is inconvenienced (to put it mildly) when the thing doesn't work. It's the same as saying, "if we can put a man on the Moon, why can't we..." except that I don't think we could put a man on the Moon at the moment.

Why people always use rocket science or the space program as illustrative of the greatest complexity one might be forced to fathom is anyone's guess; they're both related, so there must be a good reason. Certainly, rockets and space are devilishly complicated things, and I don't pretend to understand them. Undoubtedly it comes from a time when they were some of the most complicated things humans could do. Now of course, I'd be willing to say that things having to do with computers probably fit that bill, but since the space program also involves computers, the comparison is still apt.

Study the failure rates of space programs, and you might come to the conclusion that we've been had, however. How many people have died as a result of space accidents? Proportionally few. I don't have figures, but if the failure rates on manned spaceflight were anything close to the failure rates on most normal gadgets, we'd be lucky if any rockets got off the ground, let alone into space.

So why are non-rocket-science things so hard to get working? Why can't simple devices have the failure rates of much more complicated and expensive things? Well, because failures of many things are much less catastrophic: if the toaster burns your toast, it's hardly the end of the world. But why can't they make these things work properly?

I doubt if I've ever met a computer program that did what it was supposed to without any hassle at all 100% of the time. And that's averaged out over all the computers I've met; most of them are much worse. Cars break down, people break down, and other things break down too, like the song says. Why can't things work right? It's not rocket science.

All I'm doing is outlining the problem and then complaining about it, but it is a problem. Which brings to mind another aphorism I've heard: "Make toast some time and then tell me whether you'd ever want to go into space." Maybe it's my inner Luddite, but I don't trust technology; it's never perfect, and most of the time it's far from it. If they can't get simple things to work properly, every time, with no hassle, in a well-designed manner, would you trust them to make complicated things work right? I have my doubts.

Teach Security

I read a lot of computer books. Partially this is because I'm a huge nerd. Well, mostly because. Partially it's because I try to keep up with trends and fail mightily. I can't understand how computer professionals do it. Partially (and this is the part I want to talk about) I do it to learn new computer things, mostly programming languages.

So while I am not a self-styled expert on textbook design, I can tell you a few trends I've noticed. Firstly, and this should come as no surprise to anyone, documentation for programs is generally incredibly unhelpful. Sure it's useful if you're interested in the nuts and bolts, but for the beginner, most documentation is lousy. I might address this in its own article. But the trend I want to talk about derives from that trend.

Beginning instructional manuals (I'll use that as a catch-all term for books about the subject, rather than the documentation published by the developers) always seem to be in a rush to get somewhere. Maybe it's Object Orientation. Maybe it's the latest bell or whistle. But whatever it is, these books have to wave their hands and make magical gestures at certain subjects in order to make it to the finish line in time. Most of the time, these goals are laudable; it's hard to teach someone the basics of something and actually give them knowledge they'll be able to use. No one wants to come away from a book with only the ability to regurgitate examples in the text; "Hello World!" is insufficient progress.

So the books must do a certain amount of gloss-over. They gloss over the various complications that can arise. They gloss over more powerful features. Then they gloss over security. And that's unforgivable.

The most one hears on the subject of security, in this day and age of online computing, is, "Security is very important too. Consult the manual." Believe me, security in an online environment is more than very important. It is vital. Like robust error handling (not keeling over and dying at the slightest sign of trouble, for the uninitiated), security cannot be overstressed. And like robust error handling, security gets short shrift.

So by the time a prospective programmer has finished the text, he or she knows how to do many exciting things. He or she then rushes out and does those exciting things and never once considers that these exciting things are gaping flaws. Because the programmers of today are not being trained to think in secure ways, they learn security only later and view it as something which needs to be added once everything else is working, rather than something which should be integrated into an application from the word go. Don't believe me? It can and very well might happen to you. I've found myself in that mindset on more than one occasion. Just like error-handling, security comes late in the process if at all.

We should be training programmers to be secure and robust from the start. Even if they never expect a piece of code to need to be secure, it should be nonetheless. Taking shortcuts leads to tragedy.

Just as one would not teach Object Oriented Design (a design paradigm... oh, look it up) by first teaching the language procedurally (oh, wait, nearly all books do that) so one should not teach a programming language which is intimately connected with insecure situations without teaching such security. I understand that the topic is huge; so are all topics in computer science. If you, the authors and publishers of these books, at least acquaint the reader with the basics, basics which can be used along with all the other basics in the book, then you'll start the students thinking on the right track.

Faithfully Logical

I could just as easily have called this, "Logically Faithful," but the fun is gone.

I wrote something a way back which mentioned a point which things keep driving home to me. I see, all the time in fact, even when I close my eyes and try to sleep (but my mental instabilities are a subject best glossed over in a parenthetical phrase) people, usually radical atheists defending their Gods, saying things to the tune of, "There is no room for faith in a logical discussion." They use this to justify their basic incivility toward anyone with a differing opinion on the subject of faith, because after all, if you can't discuss it logically it's no good, and since faith cannot be discussed logically (or rationally) then they can just brush off objections as being incompatible with their attempts at discussion.

The problem is that faith has everything to do with logic, and most people have no idea what logic is. I won't tackle that second assertion because it basically consists of me calling people stupid. However, there may be a few radical atheists in the listening audience who just suffered brain lesions at the mere thought of the first part, so I'd better forge on to greener pastures. Well, greener for me; the radical atheists might not like them so much.

Firstly, the rules of logic apply to discussions of faith just as easily as they apply to discussions of anything else. I know this is a sticking point between me and pretty much the rest of mankind, but bear with me. If two people can accept as axiomatic principle the same set of assertions, they can have a logical discussion of anything. You can have logical discussions of things which are blatantly untrue. I prefer the Socratic method, personally: "All men are immortal. Socrates is a cow. Therefore, the state of Socrates' immortality cannot be determined under this set of postulates." Logically sound. Totally false. All men are mortal. Socrates was a man. Socrates is no longer among the living. Those are the salient facts of the case. But I can discuss factually-incorrect postulates until the cows come home with Socrates.

The problem with logical discussions is that most of them aren't so trite. That's why science tries so hard to lay out its axiomatic material. Unless you agree with all the stuff asserted to be true by a scientist, you will not care about his conclusions, logical or not. And the discussions we have as humans are even harder to play "logically." Most of the time we don't begin conversations by a meticulous laying-out of everything we hold to be true for the purposes of discussion, and even were we to try, we'd be there a long time.

But if you accept logic as an axiom (and who says you have to, but if you don't, stop using its name in vain) then you must agree that, given a completely shared set of axiomatic matter (including our mutual acceptance of logic as axiomatic sometime previously in this sentence), anything can be discussed logically. Rationally, let's not debate, because rationality has baggage. But by the rules of logic, certainly.

So I can take as axiomatic a faith in God (of some sort or other) and if you would be kind enough to agree with that, then we could discuss the implications of God's existence in a logical manner. Therefore, unlike the prophets of atheism might like to believe, faith and logic are not antithetical.

The problem that arises is that radical atheists don't want to accept the axiom of God, and so they want to argue it. Silly radical atheists. You can't argue axioms logically. To say that this makes someone who holds differing axioms antithetical to logic simply shows your misunderstanding of the facts of logic, and since you claim to hold logic as an axiom, I could argue that point. If you stop claiming logic as axiom, then I'd stop arguing. It is no more correct to say that the acceptance of God's existence as axiomatic is antithetical to logic than it would be to say exactly the opposite (as some radical religious-types seem to believe): that only by accepting God's existence as axiomatic can one participate in logic.

But there's a deeper matter here, one which I've hinted at. Faith is indeed at the very base of logic. Faith in the axioms. After all, what is faith, really, but a belief in something which need not be proven. I can have faith in basic addition and subtraction and through them derive the wonders of our mathematical system. But you can't prove addition with math; it just is. Any proof must have axioms, and those axioms are not subject to proof. If you want to prove them, you have to back them up with further axioms. I know you can construct closed proofs in math, which rely on no outside axioms, but math is only a small subset of logic. I have faith in logic.

So if you as an atheist want to seek out common axioms with a theist (a word I am forced to use because "religious-type" sounds insulting) and then use those to discuss things logically, I applaud you. If you wish to accept, temporarily, certain religious axioms for the sake of argument, in order to prove that religions have acted illogically, you can do it without giving up your faith in your lack of faith. You can do it logically. People don't always act logically, and proving that is easy, but if an atheist wants to beat that horse, it would be completely within the purview of logic. At the end of the day, however, that logic, and all logic, is based on faith. And I won't even bother arguing that point. I hold it to be axiomatic.

Oh, and just because you can't discuss things logically doesn't mean they aren't worth discussing. Logic is fine, as far as it goes, but that's as far as it goes.

Instant Gratification

The fact that writing something and publishing it has become an almost immediate process is going to kill me. For instance, I am currently typing this into a browser window, and Blogger is obediently saving it every few seconds because that's what it does now. I have no doubt that if enough people really wanted it, Blogger would implement a feature whereby typing into one's blog would be published in real time, so if you navigated (I like that word slightly better than surfed) to my blog as I was typing a new piece, you would see the words appear as if from the ether.

I'm not really worried about that; it hasn't happened yet for the simple reason that people still care enough about their work not to want to show it off before they've finished it. But it could happen. The problem, as I see it, is that there is no longer any editorial phase of publication, certainly not online.

For most things, that's not all that different. Sure, I could publish this post as soon as I'm done typing it, but I don't. I spellcheck it first, which is something most people, I suspect, do not do. Then I often read over what I've written quickly. Since this isn't The Washington Post and I'm not Dostoyevski (two random picks, trust me) I don't put much more effort into it. I could, of course, but it's small beans.

But take, for example, other online magazine/journal-type things. They are supposed to be professional. They are supposed to have editors. They're magazines for God's sake, and just because they happen to exist via the Internet rather than in print doesn't mean they should be any less serious. Or what about blogs written by columnists. Oftentimes those blogs should be taken as seriously as the column.

However, there are boneheaded mistakes made by people who should know better regularly, mistakes which any self-respecting editor should have caught and removed. I'm not talking about factual errors; I'm just talking about using "bare" when you mean "bear" for example. Boneheaded stuff. The fact that many websites have so many of these errors leads me to believe that they have no editorial process, that the rush to post content means that review is largely removed. If I'm wrong, then these sites need to hire new editors. But I bet I'm right.

And the biggest thing, which makes me wonder all the more whether any editor at all exists, is the fact that, unlike print, republication of online content is a snap. If I discover, three days or three years from now, that there is a typo in a book I've written, the most I can do is fix it in the next publication, if any. But if I find an error in something I've written in this blog, I can easily change it. It's like issuing patches for things you've written.

So there is no excuse for the level of boneheaded error that exists in large-scale online publications. If time cannot be taken before publication, the editors should scour the site after publication, finding and fixing the minor, picayune things which stand out like a sore thumb to readers and make them wonder about the professionalism of a site which can allow errors like that to be printed.

Or maybe I'm alone in this feeling. Maybe everyone else has decided that online publications should be held to a lower standard, that blogs should be filled with spelling errors, grammatical mistakes, and shoddy typing, for no good reason. Maybe anyone who reads this will be convinced that I'm a ridiculous bean-counter. In that case, I guess my dreams of getting an editorial job are doomed.

And if you find mistakes here, feel free to point them out. I might even fix them. It's easy for me to do.

Surfing Needs Waves

Surf the Web? This phrase's ubiquity is alarming, frankly, especially since it makes no sense at all.

The point was driven home in a piece I typed (I could say penned, but that would be a filthy lie) earlier about something completely unrelated to surfing or webs, but which caused me to stop and puzzle for a moment over the terminology. Then I saw the beginning of this article and the point was re-driven into my brain. Surf the web.

The article in question wasn't about surfing or webs either... well, to be honest, a case could be made, but the relevant piece of said article follows:

Web use isn't called "surfing" just because it's exciting and fun and dangerous, with sharks lurking below the surface. On the web, "surfing" describes the way we navigate a vast ocean of information, skimming over the surface, searching for that one great wave to bring it on home.

Bullplop! I say again, horsehockey!

We don't surf the Web. We crawl the Web, much like any other network. I don't care whether we're looking for information and skipping everything we don't need; you don't surf an encyclopedia, do you? No, you skim it. That's the description of the activity taking place when you don't go into depth in your reading.

The Internet is a network, and Web as nomenclature suits it just as well as Net or Distributed Array (don't argue with me, I know it's not right). It's a series of interconnected items, and since the interconnections are many-to-many (but technically only one-way) Chain doesn't really cut it. Besides, World Wide Chain doesn't really have the same ring to it.

If it was the World Wide Waves, then surfing would be an adequate description of the activity, simply because it would fit in. But since one does not surf a web (unless spiders are doing something when we're not looking) and since surfing doesn't really describe the activity, that's two strikes. Granted, you need three strikes to be out, but that's why baseball metaphors don't work in this situation, just as surfing metaphors don't work when speaking of a network.

We're always going to be surfing the Web though, because, way back when, someone said it and it stuck. If that's not a depressing thought, I don't know what is. But take heart; the activities involved in Web 2.0 (well, as far as I can tell, since I don't think anyone really knows what the hell Web 2.0 involves, really) don't map onto surfing at all, so maybe somewhere down the line we'll all be saying something different.

It'll probably be equally stupid.

Tanned

I think there is a universal human feature which can be illustrated via the metaphor of tanning.

People don't care about long term consequences. Really. They are willing to spoil the long term for short-term pleasure. Why else would people tan?

Now, speaking as someone who goes from pale to cancer with no intermediary step, who spends most of his life lurking in dark corners of lightless rooms (no, I am neither a vampire nor a goth), whose sleep schedule means that he rarely sees anything but the setting sun, you might be tempted to write me off as a crank. Obviously I must hate the sun and feel a deep resentment toward people who are able to bask in its rays for hours on end.

Sadly, you would be mistaken. I just find the whole thing funny. People who tan are putting themselves at far greater risk of skin cancer, it's true, but that's not really the metaphor in question. The amusing thing is than tanning ages you. And for the women in the audience anyway, this would be a bad thing.

So people are willing to shorten their period of peak attractiveness in order to achieve a slightly higher peak (this is, of course, forgetting that some people don't find tans attractive). I understand that there are some people who don't care about the attractiveness factor, who just love the sun, but I would be willing to bet that those people are in the minority. The vast minority, even.

We're shallow and shortsighted. And for proof of that, you need look no further than the beach. Forget trying to convince people to protect the environment; we can't even convince them to stop tanning.

Samuel Pepys

This is not a diarist's blog. That said, there are some things one can say about all forms of the blog, whether as diary, journal, newspaper, what have you.

Why do we write into the ether? I suppose the question could be posed to any publication, but it uniquely applies to blogs because so many of them are more personal than most publications. It's like sending a friendly letter to the entire world, but I suppose that's not unique; Letters to the Editor have been around for a long time, probably as long as there have been editors.

But why do so many people feel the urge to open themselves up like this? I think my personal life might be easier if no one actually knew what my views on various topics were, and I'm just worried about my views. Some people publish diaries which are more revealing than I'd care to be in a diary which I kept hidden under a mattress and burned at the end of every month. Why do they do it?

I think some of us are archivists; we want to catalogue our lives for posterity. The post's namesake was one of those. But that's a minor motivation, to my mind. Why do we want to archive our thoughts for others to read?

Fame? I'd guess that's a large part of it. Being read by people makes your point of view more important, your life more meaningful. It's a greedy motivation but not necessarily an evil one. There's nothing wrong with wanting attention, as long as the desire is expressed in a socially acceptable way. Well, okay, there is something wrong with it, but if everyone wants it, we can't really judge.

But there is something wonderful about confession, about revelation. And it's tempting to believe that, while we strip ourselves bare online, no one we know will read our revelations. That way we can get things off our chests without any risk. I'm sure everyone has felt the need to unburden themselves to someone, and it's really hard to do it face to face with someone. We may even secretly, even subconsciously, wish that our revelations would be made plain to the people we can't bring ourselves to tell personally.

The problem with believing this is that it just isn't true. It's far too easy to find people online, to the point that anonymity is no barrier. Eventually, someone we don't want to read our blogs winds up reading them, and whether or not we might have wished, deep down, for that to happen, when it does, it's likely that it won't be pleasant. Secrets weren't meant to be revealed impersonally, especially in a form where people will assume that they are the last to know.

Why don't I write diarist-style blog posts to fill up the days? For one, it's boring. But I'm also not interested in preserving my life for posterity. It's just not interesting enough. And while I have very little to hide, people aren't forgiving and take offense really easily, so you never know.

Letter as Apology

At the moment, a very popular thing for magazines and newspapers to do is to publish letters to the editor. Sure, it's not exactly a new thing to do, but recently it seems to be the print media's (or is it medium's) answer to the comments section of a blog. Sometimes these letters are banal compliments, but oftentimes they are commentary on recent articles, spotting flaws, giving critiques... in other words, exactly like the comments section of a blog, except with possibly more editorial scrutiny. There aren't many letters published, for instance, advertising free Cialis.

My beef is not with the letters; I can take them or leave them. My beef is with their publication. Sometimes a letter comes up which points out, rightly or wrongly, that something published was offensive to someone or other. I'm not bashing people who are easily offended (I'm not here, anyway), and they have a perfect right to write in and tell the publication how they feel. But why does the publication publish those letters?

I think it has a lot to do with apology. In this case, publication of the letter seems to sate those who feel that offense was given, and at the same time the publication doesn't have to issue an apology. It's the ideal. Certainly, there are times when the publication might get letters both for and against a point of view, but when it comes to offensiveness, they simply publish a letter and move on.

It ain't good enough, guys. Simply airing a complaint does not resolve it. If you don't wish to resolve the complaint at all, don't pay it lip service. If you do wish to resolve the complain, apologize. It can be in small print in the back of the paper under an advertisement for Windex, but you should say it somewhere.

Just as a point of comparison, examine how most publications handle factual errors. They are probably alerted to these errors by readers' letters, but they don't simply publish the letter. No, they print a correction in fine print in the back of the paper under an ad for Windex (or, if they're really professional, they publish corrections somewhere more visible, but we're not here to debate visibility).

So if you've offended someone, it's not a matter for debate. You can't argue with someone about whether or not something offends them; it might not offend you, but that doesn't really matter to them. If you feel the complaint is legitimate, be legit in return. If not, don't print the letter like it's an apology.

What People Want

It's hard to decide even the smallest things. Sometimes we know exactly what we want, but most of the time even little decisions aren't certain. What toppings to get on a pizza, what shirt to wear on a particular day, where to meet people: I could spend days listing things which give rise to arguments about choices.

What is most difficult for some people is expressing their desires. They may have a very clear image in their heads of what they want, but they don't necessarily know how to put it in words which another person, typically the implementer of the wish, can understand. Some people draw pictures. Some people give long, drawn-out descriptions. But at the end of the day, the communication is imperfect.

The easiest thing I've found to do is for the person seeking a decision to make a random choice. The old saw says that if you can't decide between two options, flip a coin. If you don't like the result of the coin flip, obviously you should take the other option. But the coin gives you a definite choice to which to react.

The problem is that some choices aren't binary. Sometimes there are decisions of design, of taste, which are less in the manner of, "Which of these two things do you prefer?" and more in the manner of, "What qualities were you looking for in this?" In that case, the designer should come up with something. It doesn't have to be the final design. It doesn't even have to be a good design. But it gives the decision-maker (I almost said "decider") something to which to react.

So the designer brings in the design, and the decision-maker takes one look at it and disagrees with all of it. They say that certain things need to be made larger, brighter, etc. They can give you a detailed critique of exactly what is wrong with the design. But they couldn't have voiced a positive assertion of design; they can only react to what they see as incorrect.

I don't know what it is about humans that makes it easier to criticize than to create, but harness it. Make something for people to criticize. Make a decision to shoot down. Chances are good that you'll find out what people really want by what they say they don't want.

And if all else fails, they'll look at the design, say it's fabulous, and you'll be done. They may not be happy, but it's their fault, not yours.

Why Do We Bother?

There are certain sectors of the world which have never been stable. Take the Middle East, for example. Or how about the Caribbean. South and Central America. South-East Asia. I don't pretend to know why these places are the dumping ground for suffering and divisiveness in the world, but they certainly seem to be according to any definition I can name.

I know many people believe it is their sacred duty to bring peace and stability to these and other places, but why do we bother? This isn't really a question of Iraq or Mid-East Peace or anything like that. It's just a question of looking at what people in those regions have had to put up with. Why should they want us to bother?

I'm not saying that we don't intend to do good. Sometimes we (and here and elsewhere I'm using we to mean those people who aren't currently living in the region or regions in question) really do mean well. But if people on the inside don't want things to change, they probably won't.

And why should people want things to change? Every change seems to make things worse. Regardless of motivation, the unknown changers are likely to be mistrusted when every other bringer of change in the past either has led to a worse situation or has been unable to effectively change the situation at all. Better the devil you know, as the saying goes.

We should definitely help people. No question about that. But if interfering with their lives causes them more problems, it's hard to see how we can help them. If the only way to help is to make them more miserable, even in the short term, many people who have lived through the situation are likely to be skeptical. Why should they believe anything?

It is not always the case that change from within is effective either. People have risen up to create change, only to elect a despot or be brutally quashed. Sometimes change is dangerous to everyone, not just the people who enjoy the status quo.

I don't know exactly where I'm going with this. But it strikes me more and more that some places are just fated to be unpleasant, and the best way to effect change is to leave those places.

We've Never Elected an Independent

I saw an argument against Michael Bloomberg running for President which included a statement to the effect that the American people have never elected an Independent to be President.

It's a true enough statement as far as it goes. The US has never once had an Independent President (and I'm not even going to make any plays on words featuring the fact that Presidents are frequently not independent in many ways). That's as true as saying that the United States is not a Communism, nor has it ever elected a horse, and it only came narrowly close to electing a Bull Moose.

Now when people say Independent, they don't mean that, really. Since the United States has only two major political parties, anyone who isn't a member of one or the other is automatically Independent (of his or her senses, most likely, since we have a pretty poor track record in the electing of third party candidates recently, but that's getting ahead of myself). But most "Independent" candidates are actually members of some party or other. Actual Independents are few and far between, and I must once again acknowledge that not one of them has ever been elected President.

But we've elected third party candidates before. The political system of the US tends to shove one party out in situations where there are three, but there's nothing saying that that one party can't be one of the major parties, allowing a third party to ascend to the role. It's happened before, and it could very well happen again.

I don't know Michael Bloomberg's political strategy. I can't even spell his last name correctly. But I don't think it's out of the question to believe that his "independence" might morph into a third party of some kind. You need party apparatus to run for President these days. And we've elected third party candidates.

I do not in any way support Michael Bloomberg in his non-campaign; I think he's shaping up to be another Mario Cuomo. But he could win. And even if he doesn't, people should know that the US does occasionally change the two parties it has. Albeit they change into two other parties, but it's something.

Disconnect

The holy grail of technology at the moment seems to be to make sure that everyone is connected to the Internet and phone at all times no matter what.

Well you know what, call me a Luddite if you want, but I'm not interested. Every time I'm out of the house it's like I'm on a magical vacation from work, from my life, from whatever. No one can reach me. Sometimes, it's true, I wish I could reach people, but not usually the other way around. And I definitely don't want to be able to surf the Web (okay, the implications of that phrase just this second hit me, so I'm going to have to break off and write it down for later... okay, done) anywhere.

Why do we always need to be connected? Why do I have to have a phone that's not just a phone but an Internet-capable portable computer as well? I won't even get started on the fact that phones are not only phones anymore; that's a topic for discussion at some other time or not at all. But why is connection so wonderful?

Sure, being able to access information is nice. But when do you stop? When does work stop, when do your obligations to communicate with people stop? You know what? I let phones ring. A lot, in fact. Partially because it's never for me, but partially because I don't want to talk right then. Why should we rush for the phone? If it's an emergency, keep calling.

When the communications laws in this country protect connectivity at the expense of privacy or enjoyment, I think we've gone too far. And they do, don't think they don't. Cellphone blockers? Illegal, even in restaurants and movie theaters. I find few things more annoying than having to listen to people talk on the phone, and why the hell should I have to when I'm watching a movie or eating dinner? Or, for that matter, why can't you just put it away for a while?

Disconnect me, thank you. If I never was able to use the Internet again in exchange, it would be a steep price, because I like the Internet just fine. But I might be willing to pay it nonetheless.

Just Because You're Paranoid

I worry a little bit about certain groups that everyone says you should worry about. I won't name them here for fear of drawing their wrath. But I don't think I'm paranoid. For instance, I don't worry about the Bavarian Illuminati, or the Elders of Zion, or Atlantis, or the worldwide Jewish banking conspiracy. The first one is funny, the second is very nearly the same as the fourth, which is completely bogus, and the third (Atlantis, if you're keeping score and lost) is beneficial and no longer extant, not necessarily in that order.

But I do worry about certain organizations. There's nothing wrong with that. I've made it plain that I worry a fair amount about the government and its agencies, not because I believe they are personally out to get me, but because I think that a certain amount of distrust is healthy. Organizations that have control over our lives should be worried about, at least slightly.

The organizations I worry most about, however, are the ones that are probably not out to get me personally. Imagine, for a moment, that there is a worldwide organization of powerful, rich people. Pretty intimidating, no? You'd be scared of them. Well, that's a load of garbage; the UN, for instance, is not the Novus Ordo Seclorum. Put it out of your minds, or don't. I don't really care what nutty things you happen to believe.

But imagine for a moment that all the richest, most powerful people in the world have a club which meets every Sunday to eat brunch. There is no hierarchy in this club, and there is no real meeting, just everyone who attains a certain level of power and wealth gets an invitation each week to go to a mansion and eat brunch. Sounds innocent enough. There are many organizations worldwide which could meet this formula.

Now suppose that each week, the only thing the members decide is what they want to eat for brunch. They show up each week at around 11, vote in a secret ballot as they come through the door, and then half an hour later, the item which received the most votes is served. And lets say that every week that item is waffles.

None of these rich, powerful people own stock in a waffle concern. They don't get together beforehand to decide to throw the vote. It just always happens that a goodly proportion of the attendees want waffles. Now, if you don't think that this weekly meeting would affect worldwide prices of waffle batter, you need to reexamine your naïveté.

Suppose you are a regular schmo and you make one of these waffle-club members angry. It might not do anything other than make him (or her) angry. But he (or she, but whom are we kidding) might mention his annoyance at you to his table mates at his weekly waffle brunch. And they in turn, since they like eating waffles with him, might view you in a slightly less-favorable light. And there would have been no decision made to make your life miserable, but simply because they got together, ate waffles, and talked about their weeks, all the richest, most powerful people in the world would start to hate you.

Lest you think I am concocting a ridiculous scenario, this club-entity, in more-or-less its entirety, could be used to describe organizations almost anywhere. They aren't formed for the express purpose of controlling anything, but simply by virtue of gathering important people together, they control things anyway, and no one member may have any idea. Certainly, sometimes the clubs are more organized, and sometimes they may have more decision-making power than simply choosing waffles, but a lot of their control comes from simply networking powerful people together.

In our world of increasing connection, these types of organization, even without any organization at all, become larger and larger. When was the last time you formed an opinion of someone or something based solely on what a friend or acquaintance said about them or it? It's not something you can avoid, and if you have enough of these snap judgements and connections, the organization arises without anyone's approval. Madison Avenue knows it. The government knows it. Now you ought to know it too.

So yes, I worry about things like that. Is that wrong? If I make you worry about them too, have I controlled you? Can you blame me?

More Freaking Immigration

Remember when I said I had no patience for immigration debate? Well, I still don't, but I keep having these views on it, so without debating, I will present another one. This is not a debate. This is nothing resembling a debate.

All those people who think it should be really hard to become citizens, raise your hands. I thought so. No one raised their hands, because no one reads this blog. But if there had been a lot of people reading, there is a fair chance that some people, maybe even a lot of people, might have raised their hands. And that's just dumb.

Why, you ask?

Well, because we let deadbeat jobless leaches on the taxpayers become citizens every day. Every minute, in fact. And we don't require anything from them. We don't give them a probationary period. We don't make them pass a test, even a simple one. They need to have one item of documentation. I'm sure you can see what I'm so cleverly hinting. If not...

We let any baby born in the US be a citizen, no questions asked. And I'm not bringing this up to decry the practice of pregnant mothers crossing the border to give birth. I'm bringing up a different point.

For instance, did you know that the Catholic church doesn't consider you to be a full member until you are confirmed, usually at around age 13? For some Anabaptist sects of Christianity, it's even worse; you can't even be baptized until you're an adult. I can't speak to other faiths, but suffice it to say that not everyone immediately allows entry to the sacred rolls simply because someone is born.

But I'm not arguing that people should be unable to be citizens by birth. Far from it. I'm simply pointing out that we have no way of knowing whether or not a person will be a citizen who adds to the community and enriches the nation when they are born. So why should we expect any differently from immigrants?

Sure, some immigrants will turn out to be deadbeats. They will leach off the taxpayers like giant sponges. Some babies will doubtless grow up to do likewise. So where's the difference there? In fact, I think it's probably safe to say that native-born citizens use up more than their fair share of resources. We would still have poor people even if we closed the borders to everyone, including rich immigrants who came here solely to found universities and give to charity.

The argument goes that if we allow just anyone to be a citizen, we will open our doors to the poverty-stricken people of the world, and they will overload the system within hours. See, the problem with this thesis is that citizens don't get free money. We have to pay for it (see my spirited defense of taxation as a means to provide money to the government), and if you become a citizen (in fact, even if you don't become a citizen) you will have to pay for it too. Maybe we give out too much money to people who give back nothing in return. That's a debate for another time. But in any case, the addition of millions of taxpaying citizens will hardly cause less money to be given to the government.

If we make it easy to become a citizen, and hard to employ people for slave wages while paying no taxes on their income, I don't see the house of cards collapsing. Maybe it will, but maybe it would have anyway.

If you disagree, maybe we should go the other way and make citizenship a privilege to be earned. Maybe all adults should need to take a citizenship exam to become citizens. Maybe we should deport people who don't work for a certain period of time. Since I don't regard being a pundit or being rich as working, there would be a lot of idle rich people setting sail for Europe, while educated, working poor people would be left in the US. I can't see that house of cards remaining stable.

As always, I am offering two wildly opposed options in the hope that people will see just how ridiculous certain points of view really are. The whole thing is not black and white. But seeing in shades of gray is reserved for debating, and I already told you that this wasn't a debate.

Beauty

There is a difference between beauty and attractiveness. That's a shocking thought for some people, because they see pretty and attractive and sexy as being beautiful. Not so.

I'm not going to make a list, nor am I going to discuss what the differences are, really. I just think it behooves us all to examine our own standards. Because if you think everyone who is attractive is also beautiful, you might be terribly shallow, or you might be terribly over-eager.

Of course, people aren't the only things which are attractive. There are perfectly functional objects (no, not that kind of object, you perverts) which are attractive to the eye. Designers strive for that attractiveness; very few designs are for beauty, really. They may tell you differently, but what you're looking for in a design is attractiveness.

Attractiveness is candy to the eye. You never say something is horrifyingly attractive, yet there are many things which, for want of better words as humans don't really have them, are terrifyingly beautiful. Beauty can be painful, or cold, or unattainable. Attractiveness is just good-looking.

I think a certain amount of trouble with interpersonal relationships could be solved if we just acknowledge the difference between someone good-looking and someone beautiful. I don't mind looking at attractive people, but that doesn't mean I find them beautiful. Attractive is just that; it attracts you, or your eye, or your nose, or whatever sense. There are no tales of spirits so attractive that men go blind to look at them.

But there are confusions. Are sirens (the mythical singers who lure sailors to their dooms) attractive or beautiful? I would be inclined to go with the former. Are things which are seductively beautiful really beautiful, or just attractive? I guess it really is in the eye of the beholder.

I can only speak for myself, but I don't think too many things are really beautiful. Most things just look good. Maybe that's enough for some people.

Gwobu Wabu

There is nothing so fine as a multi-layered reference. I will leave it up to you to figure out what multiple layers I'm referencing. But will it help for me to say that this is actually about Global Warming? I thought not.

It seems to me that we're all fighting about the wrong thing, at least as far as global warming is concerned. Since we fight about the wrong thing a lot, this should come as no surprise to anyone. But let me demonstrate my point.

For instance, suppose Earth, instead of getting warmer, was getting cooler. Lest you think this is a science-fiction scenario, remember that it's happened in the past (more frequently than global warming, at any rate) including in the past of the human species. There was a miniature ice age a few hundred years back. So suppose it was happening again.

We'd probably all fight about whether or not it was being caused by pollution. And since people seem happier when it's warmer, there would probably be a lot more people opposed to global cooling. But it would be bad; crops would fail, ports would freeze, and heating bills would go through the roof. And there we would be, sitting around fighting about what was causing it.

Or maybe, just maybe, if we thought it was really a natural phenomenon, we might try to think of ways to combat it, regardless of its causes. If it seemed like burning oil in bonfires throughout the world would make the world heat up again and save us from an ice age, we might do that. Certainly we would try our best to work against destruction, instead of sitting around debating causality. The fact that it was "natural" wouldn't make it any less dangerous. Asteroids and comets collide with Earth every once in a while, "naturally." That doesn't make them any more livable.

I'm not going to get into an argument with people who don't believe that Earth is heating up, because, quite frankly, they are morons. They also aren't fighting about causality; they don't believe there's any effect, which rules out a cause right off. But everyone else who is sitting around drafting resolutions about human causes or natural causes, to them I say, stop talking.

We need to worry about global warming whether or not it is entirely out of our hands (and I don't believe for a second that it is). If we can have huge amounts of money spent on developing plans for when a comet hits Earth, why can't we spend some money to work out how to stop global warming?

The problem, of course, is that people who think it's all "natural," don't believe that reducing pollution will affect it at all, which is why we need to argue. And unlike a comet, getting people to stop polluting has no immediate onrushing doom attached. It's quite possible that we can go on exactly as we are for quite some time before we completely destroy Earth, but it's going to get awfully unpleasant between now and doom.

Me, I like the cold, so if the tables were turned, there's a chance I might be on the side of people who believe that the ice age is a good thing. It's possible. But I like to eat too.

Private on the Internet

You can read this, right? I haven't instituted some kind of password protection scheme (which can, I believe, be done, but which defeats the purpose of a general readership blog, at least in my opinion), have I?

So if I write something here, the whole world could possibly read it. It's not likely, but every single person in the world could read anything I write. And what is far more likely is that any individual person could read it, let alone a large group.

So why does it come as a surprise to some people that things they post publicly on the Internet come back to bite them in the ass? Exactly what was the misunderstanding?

I know that some people think sites like FaceBook or MySpace or what have you are personal private communities with a very restricted guest list. Wise up, people. All these social networking sites have huge numbers of users, and unless you take precautions, even non-members can view content you put on those sites. Anything you say on a social networking site is like going into a crowded room (very crowded, in fact) and yelling that same thing on a bullhorn. Only it's worse because, unlike yelling, what you write on the Internet can be seen forever, searched, accessed, and remembered by computers. How exactly does that equate in people's minds to "private?"

The problem as I see it is that people want to have everything. They want to have a vibrant online community which allows them to speak their minds to anyone and everyone, so they don't institute any safeguards with respect to information-sharing. But they also want to be safe and loved, so they believe, through a supreme act of cognitive dissonance, that the only people who read their thoughts are the people for whom those thoughts are intended. Wiser people will tell you that a certain amount of information-policing is necessary, that charging a cover to keep out the riff-raff is a necessary perhaps-evil, that the ability to separate the wheat from the chaff is important. But most people don't see it that way. They see the Internet as a vast free freedom freeness free-itude free-ousity, and they don't see the downside to that.

Face it, FaceBook: if I went up to a teacher in school and said, to their face, that I thought they sucked and I hoped they would die, I would rightfully be punished. How is it any different if I write those same words in a blog? Both times I am exercising my right to free speech, but the problem with free speech is that it sometimes comes with a price. Likewise, if I write a memo to my boss telling them exactly how I feel about them, I will probably be fired (unless how I feel about them is that they are extremely good at their jobs, in which case I might be fired for sexual harassment or something). How is that memo, which might fall into the wrong hands (namely the hands of the person to whom it was sent, but let's not split hairs) any different from writing the same in my blog, which might be read by anyone.

The lesson here, kids, is that free speech can be heard by anyone, often with unfortunate consequences. While I don't think it would be acceptable to punish someone for expressing their opinions on matters unrelated to either school or work (or whatever hands down the punishment) and in some cases not even then, it's a risk you run when you believe that things you write on the Internet won't be read by the wrong people.

Look at this blog. I will probably never be able to run for President because of it. That's what I get for freely expressing my opinions under a transparent pseudonym.

Heroes

No, this is not about the television show. Please don't think it is. If you came here under the mistaken impression that this was about the television show, haha, I've trapped you now! Your click-through will only cause me to swell in size! You cannot stop me! I am invincible!

Sorry, it got away from me for a minute.

Since I spent so much time at the beginning fooling around, I'll try to keep this short. I just want to know what happened to heroes?

It's not an idle question. Why are all our heroes so crappy these days? I don't mean superheroes, I mean the people we elevate as heroic in our society.

A word to the wise: the Congress does not give out Medals of Honor (which is what they are called, for those of you who haven't learned that yet) for preforming your duty up to standards. They don't award medals for adequacy.

No, wait, they do. But not the kind of medals with the cachet of heroism. They give out Good Conduct Medals for adequate service. But to be a hero, you have to go beyond the call of duty (no, I'm not talking about the video game either). You have to take it to the next level. You have to do more than we pay you for.

So for someone to call themselves a hero for doing what they were supposed to, that's lazy. That's false. That besmirches the heroism of every single other hero. Heroism isn't about doing your job.

And dying? Since when did dying make you a hero? It's a classic concept: die for [cause goes here] and you'll be a hero. The rejoinder is just as classic: you'll be a dead hero. So why does dying for anything automatically make you a hero?

I'm not saying that people who die can't be heroes, and you can die heroically. But it's not the only way, or even the best way, to become one. Sometimes it's the easiest way, but that's not what heroes are made of. They aren't supposed to be about the easy way. Sometimes it's more heroic to live, even if it's more difficult.

I'm starting to sound like a recruitment poster, so I'll stop now. But consider what I'm saying. It's more difficult than it seems at first, because we like to elevate people in status simply because they were victims, or because they did good things. But if those good things were what they were supposed to be doing, or if their death was entirely unrelated to anything other than dying, they just aren't heroes. Doesn't make them bad people. Just not heroes.

And yes, I'm talking about your brother who was killed in Iraq or your mother who was killed on 9/11 or your cousin who is a fire fighter. I'm blasting your personal hero. Feel free to hate me for it.

Blog of Note

Just how exactly do you become a blog of note. I should capitalize that, I suppose, since it's so all-fired important and all, but I'm not going to because I'm sticking it to the man, whom I'm also not going to capitalize. Gosh, what a sexy and dangerous rebel I am.

All kidding aside, Blogs of Note got me thinking about metrics, and it's always dangerous when I think about metrics. Because what is a Blog of Note? I'm sure someone knows; they have to have picked them somehow. Maybe it's random, but that's still a metric. More likely, it's either a metric based on site traffic or it's an editorial decision.

You may not think it matters. Consider this, however, mes amis: a Blog of Note is much more likely to be visited, and thus, if said Blog of Note contains advertising or other forms of profit, said blog is more likely to profit. And that's important to some people. Even if the only profit realized is increased visibility for someone's ideas, being a Blog of Note is likely to cause that to be.

What's wrong with that? After all, some things are going to be more popular than others. Well, for one thing, it's a positive feedback loop, really. Suppose for a moment that a blog becomes Notorious (I like that better than Noteworthy) because of its popularity. I'm not saying that I know (and I'll get to that in a minute). But suppose. Now being popular has made the site noticed, and thus Notorious, and thus is likely to cause the site to become even more popular. That's positive feedback; more breeds more.

Suppose, on the other hand, that Blogs of Note became Blogs You Should Notice But Don't. That's positive feedback too, but it only supplies positive feedback to things which are below a certain threshold. After a blog achieves a certain popularity, it can no longer be said to be Unnoticed, and so will be removed from contention for the Roll of Blogs. But this strategy is unlikely to work simply; editorial control will certainly have to be exercised since there are a lot of unpopular blogs out there which are unpopular for a very good reason (they don't deserve popularity, in other words).

But the most worrying factor about the whole thing is that we don't know what it takes to make a blog Notorious (in case there's any confusion at this point, "Notorious," means, "A Blog of Note"). It could be anything from the suggestions given to paying money to the most pictures of naked people. There are more or less likely answers, but the truth is that it isn't made transparently clear. Who knows; there may well be somewhere to go to find out how to become Notorious, but it's not right there underneath the Roll of Blogs of Note.

You may now be asking, "Why are you wasting our time talking about Blogs of Note. It's a picayune little matter of pride and self-importance, mostly." And you would be right. I am slightly jealous of Blog-Notoriety. But more than that, I am using a stupid example to illustrate a frightening problem: people don't tell anyone what metrics they use. And we trust them without knowing.

How many times have you seen a poll and not even bothered to read the fine print, which probably didn't really explain the metric used anyway? How many times have you seen a ranking of something or someone and taken it as gospel without finding out how the ranking was achieved? It happens to all of us all too often; we're to busy to find out, or we don't know enough about statistics, or whatever, and we take the metric at face value without having seen its face.

Any time there is a metric involved, someone picked that metric. You have to decide: either you trust the person who picked the metric to have picked the right one, or you want to see the metric. Either you care enough, or you don't. But don't make the decision by default.

All I do in this blog, by and large, is exhort people to think for themselves. If that isn't stupid, I don't know what is. But maybe it's stupid enough to deserve Notoriety. If there's a way to vote, vote for me so I can see my name in lights.

People Think They're Sexy

Actually, people think other people are sexy, but that's neither here nor there. I suppose there are also a fair number of people who think themselves sexy, but I'm actually not dwelling on narcissism.

Jack Black

Honestly, I don't see it. Especially all scruffy-looking as you appear these days. It's probably a combination of humor and complete lack of shame. I don't think it works on everyone. But obviously it works on someone, which is why you aren't just funny.

Adam Sandler

Jeez, ditto with a capital D. You're more vulnerable than Jack Black is, but I don't really understand why that works for you or anyone else.

Tom Cruise

Katie, even though you're Catholic, you can't be that Catholic, since you married him in a Scientological ceremony and had sex before you did it. So for God's sake, get a divorce and get out. He's rapidly turning from inexplicably attractive (and I never really saw that) to just inexplicable.

Katie Holmes

You are fairly attractive, but I'm missing a certain amount of sex appeal. "Smoldering" is not the first word which comes to mind when I see you.

Janet Jackson

Next.

The Rest of the Jacksons

Next.

Johnny Depp

Damn.

Kiera Knightly

When you aren't greasy, or covered in far too much makeup, very nice. When you are, what are you thinking? Or what are they thinking for making you do it? Or both.

Kevin Spacey

I once said, offhand, that you were the only man with whom I would ever have sex, if I had to have sex with any man. Given the way the country is going, I doubt that forced homosexuality is likely in the near future, and it's possible that I might have to choose another option if you get too long in the tooth before that day arrives. But I never said that because I thought you were attractive. I said that because I had to give an answer to one of those stupid hypothetical questions, and this particular one has stuck with me.

I think that's just about enough of that. Since all I really wanted to do was question people's judgement on Jack Black's attractiveness, I don't know why I felt the need to tell the world about my forced-homosexuality options. I'm sure that question has been bandied about by almost everyone, and I think my answer is as good as any. Unless, of course, you happened to be a woman, in which case the whole thing kind of goes out the window. For the record, if I had to be a lesbian with someone, it would not be Kevin Spacey.

It May Be

I should have called this blog Nobody Gives a Damn About My E/N Crap. But that was a bit long to have as an address: nobodygivesadamnaboutmye/ncrap.blogspot.com. That's a mouthful. Plus there's the fact that the slash is illegal in addresses anyway (well, technically speaking, just in the host name, since slashes are an important part of most paths, but let's leave it).

But despite the fact that I didn't name the blog that, I begin feeling it. It is now May and I feel whiny, not least of which because I am so freaking late. I am abysmally late, and I'm sure that doesn't help people give a damn about my crappy whining. In fact, I'm sure it hurts. But rather than simply skipping ahead and making the blog look like it's been updated semi-regularly, then going back and filing in the blanks later on, I have chosen the path of disaster.

Why? Because I am your best friend. Really. You see, if I were to keep the blog fairly up to date as far as the most recent post is concerned, then go back and fill in the blanks, I would make myself seem better but confuse the hell out of everyone. How would you know whether or not I had filled in some blank? How would you know that the archives had been made more complete? I suppose you could look, but that would take time, and I'm your best friend, so I keep it simple.

Actually, it's just so you'll read everything. It's a ploy, all of it. If I filled in blanks, it wouldn't make your life any harder because you wouldn't read the stuff I filled in. So I'm sticking to my guns because I am a shameless whore. At least I have the courage to admit it.

Well, it's May, month of three letters. It's officially Communist Revolution Day too, so in honor of that occasion, I am not going to write what the Man wants to hear. Instead, I am going to whine. In red. Long live the glorious E/N revolution!