Showing posts with label Boneryänker's Almanach. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Boneryänker's Almanach. Show all posts

Thursday, February 2, 2017

Make It Fun

Don't Drive Angry

Be The Hat.  Be The Hat.
Puxatawney Phil, The Groundhog, saw his shadow today in Blegsylvania. We therefore have three years, and three hundred fifty-three more days of bottom-feeding Fascisti to go.

It beats having to experience this day in Murrikan history, over and over and over. And over. With Little Jeffy Spicer, Mr PotatoHead, lecturing the whole Earth about how bad and wrong, and wrong and bad, it and everyone in it, is.
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Monday, January 16, 2017

Do All The Rubes Have Tickets?

Ein Mensch Ist Kein Tier

Denn wie man sich bettet, so liegt man
Es deckt einen da keiner zu
Und wenn einer tritt, dann bin ich es
Und wird einer getreten, dann bist’s du.

As you make your bed, you must lie in it
No one else makes it so, only you
And when someone kicks, it will be me
And when someone gets kicked, it will be you

--  Kurt Weill / Bertold Brecht; "Meine Herren, Meine Mutter Prägte",
(aka, 'Denn Wie Man Sich Bettet') from Rise And Fall Of The City Of Mahoganny (1931)

This week, a person with no mainstream political experience will be elevated to Chief Executive of the Federal government -- a businessperson who easily displays his prejudices through a spiteful, narcissistic, adolescent public character which no American now living has ever seen in an elected official at that level.  No one knows what to expect, but the level of apprehension is palpable.

That display continues, and the apotheosis of such a person to that powerful a position leaves many people around the world profoundly uneasy. His inauguration  this coming Friday is expected to be a gaudy show, a celebration of triumph for, as someone once said, "decayed roués with dubious means of subsistence and of dubious origin ... vagabonds, discharged soldiers, discharged jailbirds, escaped galley slaves, swindlers, mountebanks, lazzaroni, pickpockets, tricksters, gamblers, [and] pimps...".

His continuing display of ignorant bile has caused a number of leading Democrats to state publicly they will refuse to attend some or all inaugural events -- in particular, the swearing-in ceremony. There is certainly going to be some level of public protest. If things get ugly, it will be very public.
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A friend noted over the weekend that an earlier post appeared to suggest turning inward as a response to recent political events -- that we might ignore raised voices or emotions and instead focus on a balance with a wider universe. That we keep family and friends close, and reduce our connections to only those things which nurture us and are necessary.

We live with one foot in the Cosmos and one foot on our dirty linoleum floor. Any insight I possess about what to do while we're there is subjective. I may have my own answer to a basic question -- What Do We Do Now? -- but it only applies to me. It's ignorant and rude to assume a personal understanding is a universal constant. If there's consensus in a larger group that everyone believes essentially the same thing, that's a different matter.

Some time ago a friend mentioned that the Dalai Lama was allegedly asked by a person who just bumped into him (at a hotel, or some public venue) what he felt the central tenet of Tibetan Buddhism to be. The Lama is supposed to have replied, " ' Just do your best.' "  I'm not a Buddhist, but I take the Lama's observation to suggest that Existence is too complicated for any person to say why they Are, and what the end results of their thoughts and actions will be. Be kind; act with compassion. Do the best you can. I'd like to aspire towards that, so; works for me.

As a comparative comment on purpose and values (and in his case, resistance), Albert Camus believed the fact of humankind was the only justification for right action, of a demand for a better world. 
I continue to believe that this world has no ultimate meaning. But ... it has no justification but man; hence he must be saved if we want to save the idea we have of life. With your scornful smile you will ask me: what do you mean by saving man? And with all my being I shout to you that I mean not mutilating him and yet giving a chance to the justice that man alone can conceive. (Resistance, Rebellion and Death)
That works for me, too.
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America is about to collectively leap off a cliff into unknown political, and social, territory.  I don't believe it's a time to turn inward; we need to listen to the voice in the pit of our stomachs which is saying Fuck this; I vote No; you don't do this crap in my name, and we need to act. Collective is good -- in fact, it's essential -- and while I don't believe in passive resistance, I don't favor violence because I know where that goes.

It's a real conundrum, deciding how you live your values. Everything I read on the Intertubes seems to be some variation on "This analysis will explain why we lost" -- more circular argument between Hillaryites and Bernieites and Masters of the DNC over who was right and controls that party, or academic analysis about what the election means in a Marxist or Other context. I'm sure that will make a number of people feel better, or at least useful.

The sense I get is of a vast, collective indrawing and holding of breath, as we wait for something to happen. The problem is, that Thing already has happened.  Now, we have to do. The discussion needs to be around what.
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Friday, January 13, 2017

Friday We Went Into The Night And The Gnashing Of Mandibles

Hope You're Not Expecting Profundity, Or Good Government.


At the end of another week I remind myself:  We don't have it that bad, relative to... a whole lot.

Huh? You want the list, Yo? Well, to start with --- we didn't have to endure physical torture (though watching Il Duce's minions in confirmation hearings on CSPAN2 is pretty close); we didn't have to survive a Russian airstrike; we didn't have to wander in -20 F temperatures outside Belgrade; we aren't dropping to the living room floor whenever we hear popping we know is gunfire. We have enough money to buy things we do not need (as we are compelled to do by training which begins in infancy), and enough food to be overweight (Mildly. Let's not get carried away here).

We're fairly safe; live in neighborhoods where there are over ten different varieties of honey for sale, for fuck's sake; and we don't have to pay the police to leave us alone.  It's a good bet our children, if they commute home from school, will actually get there alive and unmolested. And when The Dear Leader To Come appears on teevee -- tubby, bloated, "Huge" -- we can shut the fucking thing off and not be compelled to perform some act of obeisance.

Yes; there's much I personally do not have.  But because of all the above, I am grateful. Really.
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Tuesday, November 8, 2016

What's Goin' On

Oh, what's goin' on
(What's  goin' on)
Yeah, what's  goin' on;
Oh, what's  goin' on
-- Marvin Gaye / "What's  Goin' On" (1971)

My public service is jury duty.

Why -- is something special happening today ?

Wednesday, October 5, 2016

This Way, America

No, Over Here.  What The Hell Is Wrong with You?

 Joseph Beuys / 1974 Performance Art, I Like America; America Likes Me (aka, "Coyote")

The Why Of Dog
It was a typisch day here in Downtown America.  Over at the Soul Of America, I was directed to a story about David Bowie, which contained a photo of what appeared to be a Dog dragging a leper / vagrant / symbolically-wrapped human around. We worked it through Skynet the Googlegerät. One thing led to another. And here we are in the Future, as always happens in America.
Beuys flew to New York, picked up by an ambulance, and swathed in felt, was transported to a room in the Rene Block Gallery. The room was also occupied by a wild coyote, and for a period of 8 hours a day for the next three days, Beuys spent his time with the coyote in the small room, with little more than a felt blanket and a pile of straw. While in the room, the artist engaged in symbolist gestures, such as striking a triangle and tossing his gloves to the coyote. At the end of the three days, the coyote, who had become quite tolerant of Beuys, allowed a hug from the artist, who was transported back to the airport via ambulance. He never set foot on outside American soil nor saw anything of America other than the coyote and the inside of the gallery.
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Coherence
Gentlemen, the people at home cannot understand either of you...
-- Elaine Quijano, CBS News, to Kaine and Pence

2016 Election Forecast:  Clinton 75.3%,  Trump 24.7%
-- fivethirtyeightdotcom

My friend; clear your mind of Cant.
-- Samuel Johnson

 I AM PART OF YOUUU !!!! (rabbitandmouse, 2006)
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The First Whorehouse In Space Will Be Built By The Bold
During his hour-long announcement of the SpaceX Mars colonization plan, CEO Elon Musk didn’t say where exactly Martian colonists will live once they arrive on the planet — and how exactly they’ll survive given the harsh environment. Musk seemed particularly unconcerned about solar radiation. “The radiation thing is often brought up, but it’s not too big of a deal,” he says...

SpaceX’s goal is to build [its] transport system [to Mars], like building the Union Pacific Railroad. “Once that transport system is built,” Musk says, “there’s a tremendous opportunity for anyone who wants to go to Mars and create something new or build the foundations of a new planet.” People will be able to go to the planet and build “anything from iron refineries to the first pizza joint.”
--  Alessandra Potenza and Loren Grush, The Verge, September 27, 2016

Ironically, this is also International Space Week.
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Not With A Bang But A Food Fight
As most everyone knows, the ending to Stanley Kubrick's 1964 anti-war black comedy, Dr. Strangelove: Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb has Strangelove (Peter Sellers) emerging from his wheelchair and taking a few steps, then a montage of atomic bombs going off.

However, that wasn't the original ending. Kubrick initially envisioned 'Strangelove' as a drama, based on a British novel, "Two Hours To Doom", about an accidental nuclear war.  He was introduced (oddly enough, by by Peter Sellers) to Terry Southern, an American expat writer living in London; Southern saw Kubrick's project as a vehicle for dark comedy about the end of the world, and the two co-authored the script ("I intended to make a dark comedy", Kubrick later said of his film). Sellers, a friend of both Southern and Kubrick, was cast to play three separate, believable characters (originally, four -- spraining an ankle kept Sellers from playing Major "King" Kong, and Slim Pickens was offered the role). 

In the original ending of the film, Dr. Strangelove stood up from his wheelchair, only to fall flat on his face. Meanwhile, General 'Buck' Turgidson (George C. Scott) noticed Russian Ambassador de Sadesky (Peter Bull) taking pictures of "the big board", and tackled him -- only to have the Ambassador throw a cream pie at him from a nearby buffet table.

Turgidson ducked; the pie hits President Muffley (also played by Peter Sellers) instead -- and the entire War Room erupted in a gigantic food fight. Finally, as nuclear war engulfs the world, Muffley and the Russian Ambassador, having lost their reason, end up sitting on the floor and playing with the litter of thrown food like children.

Ironically, Strangelove was being edited around November 22, 1963, the day President Kennedy was assassinated. In the scene as filmed, President Muffley is struck with a pie and Turgidson announced, "Our President has been struck down in his prime!" Because Kubrick considered the action too close to actual events (and the actors appeared to be enjoying themselves a bit too obviously), that ending had to change, and Kubrick was in a bit of a fix. As the legend goes, Spike Milligan (He of the UK's famous Goon Show) was talking at the same time with former fellow Goonie Peter Sellers and learned about Stanley's dilemma. 

Milligan is supposed to have suggested the ending we're all familiar with: Strangelove standing up from his wheelchair ("Mein Führer -- I can walk !!"), followed by footage of one nuclear weapons test after another, accompanied by a soundtrack of British singer Vera Lynn singing a well-known WW2 ballad, "We'll Meet Again." Kubrick's film editor, Anthony Harvey, put the footage of the original food-fight ending with other cut scenes, which were afterwards misplaced and lost to history.

George C. Scott In The Lost Ending To Kubrick's Dr. Strangelove (1964)

( One of my favorite things about Strangelove is Peter Sellers' ability (as Strangelove) to crack up Peter Bull, who played the Russian ambassador. The next time you see this classic, during scenes with a medium or long shot of Strangelove declaiming from his wheelchair, keep your eye on Bull.

The Two Peters: Peter Bull (Left) As Ambassador de Sadesky,
and Peter Sellers As Herr Dr. Unwirklichlieber, In The War Room

Do Hold It Together, Old Man.

(Sellers was a genius at creating characters, and Bull can't help but be affected. He tries, but at some point just can't hold it in any longer -- again, the film's editor, Anthony Harvey, managed to save the take and splice in the next shot just as Bull is about to lose it.  According to film lore, Sellers was even able to get the redoubtable Sterling Hayden to crack up.)
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Ain't We Got Fun
Global debt has hit a record high of $152 trillion, weighing down economic growth and adding to risks that recovery could turn into stagnation or even recession, the International Monetary Fund has warned.

In a worst-case scenario the IMF also fears that a wave of populist politics across the US and Europe could send globalisation into reverse with protectionist policies hitting international trade, investment and migration, sending the world plunging into a prolonged period of stagnation...

“At 225% of world GDP, the global debt …is currently at an all-time high. Two-thirds, amounting to about $100 trillion, consists of liabilities of the private sector which can carry great risks when they reach excessive levels,” the IMF said in its fiscal monitor.
--  Tim Wallace, Business Writer; UK Telegraph Online October 5, 2016

"Among 'developed' nations, the United States has one of the highest rates of child poverty on the planet...  Only Romania has a higher rate than the U.S. ...  More children live in poverty -- grinding, soul-destroying poverty -- in America than in Latvia or Bulgaria, two nations few Americans can even find on a map."
--  Motivational Screensaver

Wealthiest ZIP Codes In America (Clicky For Ubernormous Graphic! Spass! Nett!)
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Tuesday, September 13, 2016

Hello Yes

Is This Dog?

About

“Yes, This is Dog” (also known as “Hello, This is Dog”) is an image featuring a black Labrador anthropomorphized with the caption as if it is answering the telephone. The photograph originated as a still from a 1984 Serbian film, 'Pejzaži u magli' ("Landscape in the Mist"), which involved teenagers, sullen attitudes, beer, Communist authorities, and a Dog (If it didn't have a Dog in it, we wouldn't watch it). The phrase and image have been remixed into a variety of different photographs, often including other animals in similar situations.

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MEHR, MIT HUNDE:   Even Dogs fail, but we try really, really hard. We hold nothing back. We track some things indoors, but principally we leave it all out on the field. We are Total Dogs™, operating at FCC regulation level (Full Canine Capacity). 

When we do fail (and by whose yardstick, I'd ask), it's mostly spatial-coordinate stuff, timing, and functional navigation of the world you people created:  Don't take us to the Sahara, the Oso Flaco Dunes, or Mars. What we lack in the sort of precision that would put us on-field in the Olympics, we make up for in heart. It's that simple.

And it beats that stuff you humans are up to.
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Sunday, July 31, 2016

Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Historic

Satiety

Go Ahead, Tubbo.

MVOHC:  Did you watch the Democratic convention?
DOG:  No.
MVOHC:  You watch the Republicans, but not your own party?
DOG:  I'm not a Democrat, ______. You know I'm not.
MVOHC:  But this is historic. A woman is being nominated for president!
DOG:  Uh-huh.
MVOHC:  You -- are just a hater.
DOG:  I watched it for five minutes, literally. I saw Al Franken burble about She enough to make me never want to watch him do anything again, ever. I'll watch Sarah Silverman because she's hot. Politically deluded in a profound way; but, hot.
MVOHC:  Je-sus. What do you want in this election? What?
DOG:  I want what everyone in America wants: Buy a five-pound bag of Oreos -- take it into a dark room; close the door, throw a blanket over me; assume the fetal position, and eat until I pass out.
MVOHC: I don't want that.
DOG: Oh, sure you do, one way or another. I'm just not willing to fool myself into believing that my desire for Stimulation and Satiety is really about some higher altruistic principle. I like my hypocrisy without a water-back, thanks.
MVOHC: Good luck with that.
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Thursday, July 14, 2016

Random Barking

Casual Cruelty To Animals

(Apologies to Tom Ridgeway / asdfmovies)
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Friday, May 27, 2016

Who You With?

Which Side Are You, Yawn

As a Dog, when I'm not reading, writing, doing art or sticking my nose into women's crotches (and it's a real plus for our species that we can get away with that, and in public, no less), I'm looking at things.We see a lot more than you think.

One item which pops up frequently on the Intertubes in These Days is a banner advertising graphic for Hillary The Inevitable !  showing a black-and-white photo of the Candydate, grinning, with her slogan-and-logo (which someone noted is very similar to a UPS ad campaign), shouting, "I'm With Her".

No. I'm not with her.  A lot of people are not "With" her.  I'm with these people, and if you'd like to post any of these in your own little slice of Blogtopia, feel free:

At the Soul Of America, another handy link to Ian Welsh recently reminded us that in the minds of some, the world is created for the wealthy and the powerful, and that you and I exist to serve their interests as chattel, as consumers of things, and to provide them with momentary amusements as they play The Great Game in pursuit of More.
A man like Obama or Bill Clinton (or, in the future a woman like Hillary Clinton) is far more likely to ruin your life than Osama bin Laden ever was. Bill Clinton pushing through Welfare “Reform” harmed millions of the poorest weakest people in America. The repeal of Glass-Steagall allowed the financial crisis to happen.

Unless you are an oligarch, or a retainer who is on the gravy train, people like Clinton, Obama, Blair, Cameron, and Thatcher are your enemies. They are a direct threat to your well-being, welfare, and even life.

The first thing anyone who wants to be realistic about politics and power needs to realize is this fact. They are enemies.
And they are. We should be voting for poets, painters, musicians, performers and Populists.
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MEHR, MIT DENKMAL: It is soul-grinding beyond words to have to vote for The Lesser Of Two Evils.  It's an admission that Reagan's Shining City On A Hill, the High School civics class view of America and the world is manifestly untrue. It forces people to confront the realities of the Company Town we live in -- that we are not a nation defending the principles in our founding documents; we're the paid help for Lords and Masters whose names we'll never know and whose faces we'll never see.

We knew this already, of course, but Ya can't fight city hall, kid -- the dichotomy couldn't be acknowledged. You can live with cognitive dissonance, but you don't sleep well. You're less civil in traffic, more anxious for no apparent reason. Then, after the financial Crashes of 2000 and 2008, more people understood that dissonance both intellectually and emotionally, and that makes things even harder. The popular media reinforces cliches about wealth, corruption and power (I just finished watching True Detective, Season 2; a perfect example).  

And on this Memorial Day weekend that cognitive dissonance can be hard. After WWII, a war against militaristic fascism (and yes, let's keep Gravity's Rainbow in mind as we say that, Slothrop), we fought "other" wars. Far from bleeding and dying in a noble cause, people you actually knew, even you yourself, apparently did so less to protect American citizens from an enemy, and more to provide a better position at a bargaining table for the interests of a few megacorps, and a handful of sociopathic, hereditary-rich halfwits.

The power structures that run the planet are too powerful to change. Nothing short of a a Zombie Apocalypse, a global pandemic or thermonuclear war, will dismantle them. Their predecessors were threatened by the Reformation, the English Civil War, revolutions in the 18th and 19th centuries (in particular, the American and French) -- and because democratic political structures promised an evolutionary change, TPTB believed they could be controlled and reluctantly accommodated them. 

The story of Western politics has been a struggle to maintain and expand concessions forced on the ruling elites. Since 1945, Western political leaders have been bought -- and so cheaply --  to serve long-term interests of those elites, while pretending to be guardians of Democratic Principles.

Hillary is just another Emptysuit front person for The Powers That Be, and having to vote for her is a Kulturschande. It's a visible symbol of our collective dysfunction as a nation -- whose leaders mouth platitudes in Hiroshima but kill with drone strikes, allow torture; place its citizens' communications under mass surveillance; and push trade deals which allow global capital the power to ignore any laws it finds inconvenient. 

Having to vote for Hillary is an admission that we're powerless Rubes and Sheep -- that Business as Usual is the best we can hope for. One more step towards Orwell's image of a boot, trodding on a human face, forever. 

But what makes casting that vote soul-grinding is, unlike Orwell's Winston Smith, a large number of us know history. We know that it could be different, that we could do better. It's one reason Sanders' campaign, even the promise of one from Elizabeth Warren, enlivened so many people, Left and Center (and, from a much different perspective, why Trump appears popular with the Right). 

We need a rebirth of real Democratic principles in that party, or a third political party, to represent the People in that ongoing struggle against the few who control so much. And on this holiday, if anyone were to ask what I served or fought for, it's that Americans, and others, have some kind of Puncher's Chance in that fight. 

That, and for Absent Friends.
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Saturday, May 7, 2016

All Aboard For Somewhere

With Stops In Soiled, Illusory, And New Normal

'Overturned School Bus';  © Gregory Crewdson (Clicky ! Tasty And Fun !)
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Friday, March 18, 2016

Random Barking: Reposting Friday

The World Is A Box Full 'O Bad Crazy Weekend
  • ...looking for A Way Out.  It's Friday in Berlin, and someone remembers that without people who follow, the Leader is just another guy with a funny moustache -- or a weasel who lives on his head; or a thin woman with short, dark hair; or a chubby one with blonde hair.
Because of the perceivable growth of Germany's Afd of late, particularly as measured in last Sunday's elections in three German states — which had been dreaded but expected — much of the discussion I see & hear is similar to what's being written & said about the Republican Primary in the US — and particularly, in the case of the former, the voters' influence.

Most talk has had to do with how to stop the rise of fascism, and ... includes by default of context how to go about changing the minds of the people in a movement. The corresponding discussion in the US seems largely focussed on Donald Trump himself. It expands beyond that only in how it objectifies his followers with something akin to a couplet of consequence: "Look what he's letting them do!"  "Look what he's making them do!"

What these discussions do not do is soberly acknowledge that all of these growing gatherers will exist tomorrow, no matter what happens to Donald Trump or the AfD. 
  • Meanwhile, in downtown Beltway, people who know the Village must be destroyed in order to save it (yes; I understand the pun and irony in using that old bromide, here) are lining up for a confrontation with... themselves.
The seminal event in the crackup of the Republican Party is not the rise of Donald Trump as their presidential nominee, contrary to popular opinion. It was the overthrow of John Boehner as Speaker of the House. That showed the power of the forty-odd members of the House Freedom Caucus, and their incompatibility with the GOP establishment and the compromises required by divided government (or for that matter, math).

The change in leadership at the top has not bridged this divide. Despite months of happy talk, the Freedom Caucus rejected Paul Ryan’s budget resolution, likely leaving the Republicans with ... the continuing irreconcilable differences between conservative factions. Trump will not be able to fix this either; only a purge of one side of the party or the other would.

The Freedom Caucus essentially wants to control government from a base of 40 members of the House, with only a few allies in the Senate and no president willing to agree to their demands. They want to defund Planned Parenthood, balance the budget through massive spending cuts, dismantle government healthcare programs, and overturn every executive order of the past eight years, regardless of not having the two-thirds support in Congress that would be required currently to override Obama vetoes and make that happen.

Conservatives had to beg Ryan to take the Speaker’s job. His prescient leeriness stemmed from seeing Boehner put in the impossible spot of rounding up votes for routine government functions. And absolutely nothing changed when he received the gavel.
  • As an older Dog, I have nearly a 1-in-4 chance of living in poverty within the next 15 years (it would be much less if there was a Mrs. Mongo, but). In the near term, I have a 16.5%  (close to one in five) chance of ending up in the same situation within the next five years. Want to know what your chances are?  Go here and spin the big prize wheel, Me Droogies.
  • What happened to John Titor? Bet you don't even know who that is, Pilgrim.
  • If you were the Annie Liebovitz of North Korea, you could be in constant jeopardy: See the wonderful photoshoots of Kim Jong Fatboy, XBox Terror of the Korean Peninsula.
  • A wonderful map showing the distribution of the only humans who matter High Net Worth persons around the globe, along with a guarantee you will not be among them (if you are, Please Burn In Hell). You will find this fun and informative.
  • Hot, bad, and anything you want, (as it is said) for those who do. Try your might and main against the really smart kidz in the room, and win the coveted Tub Of Slaw.
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Monday, March 7, 2016

In A Just Universe We Are All Safe And Loved

But We Are Here


Yesterday a friend and I went to look at an assisted living community for her 86-year-old father. The facility's marketing person was friendly and low-keyed. The place itself was comfortable and clean; the average age of a resident was 83, and the men and women I saw seemed generally content and would easily engage with you if you stopped to talk with them. To live there in a small, one-bedroom apartment, would cost roughly $5,000 per month even without the range of assistance.

Later, my friend and I took a drive to another facility; it was a place her father could afford, but wouldn't feel comfortable in. She wanted to make a point about exclusivity. 

The place we went to was a 'community' run by a private corporation, like a suburb of single-story homes built within the past twenty years, all newer versions of the kind of GI-tract-style home built in 1948 which I had grown up in. It was on the top of a set of hills, surrounded by manicured lawns and trees, a cross between a park and a country club. 

We went into the community's main building, and walked through their dining area -- a broad room with tables and booths, actual silverware, fresh linen and bright napkins, good carpeting and dark, aged wood paneling; the place looked like the interior of a yacht club. The people in that room also seemed content, but in a different way -- they seemed dressed more formally for Sunday brunch than the people in the other facility; or, perhaps it was just me.

On the way out of the building, we stopped to look at an album with information about the residents -- "...after graduating from Stanford, he lived in London..." "was an officer in the U.S..." "...met his wife while working for the World Bank..." "...undergraduate degree at Yale...".  Most of the John Cheever short fiction I've ever read came to mind for a moment.

When we drove away, my friend said, "If you're accepted to live here, the entry fee is that you give the corporation who runs it about a million dollars. It's a loan -- they get to use that money for whatever they want. When you die, your heirs get the full sum back, but with no accrued interest.  And while you are living here, you pay about $10,000 a month for one of these homes. More, if you need assisted living," she said. "He could, but my father doesn't want to live in this kind of place."

"This is what the one-per-centers get at the end of their lives," she added. "And most of us won't even be able to afford the (first) place we looked at today."

I looked back at the place as we drove away -- at how clean, how quiet, orderly; how rich it seemed. It's one thing to intellectually consider how much better the Owners have it than the mass of the world's population. It's something else altogether to see it. 

I went away thinking about wealth, about inequity; about what Senator Sanders has been saying from The Stump, and the business-as-usual babble from Hillary The Inevitable ! I thought about things going on in the world outside Our Great Country, and about human suffering and history. 
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That led me to my usual blog-reading this morning, and I came across something that resonated.

One way or another, on a daily basis all of us struggle against the inane malestrom of useless human thought: con-artist commercialism, incoherence and illogic masquerading as clarity, and Exclusive and All-New ! that smothers human consciousness like a wet tarp. It does nothing to illuminate the landscape for other travelers or feed the soul.  And the Intertubes, a vast place, simply amplifies the prevalence of all of it (I'd include this blog in that list -- this is just a nighttime bus stop somewhere in the big middle of somewhere, or nowhere).

But -- one excellent thing about the Intertubes is, like other forms of communication, you may occasionally break out of the crazy Bardo-world of Amazon and Beyonce, CNN and Endless Living Through Twitting, and find yourself in a place where the sun is warm and the fields are green and open, the ocean is wide and blue, and people tell you the truth in complete sentences.

This bit of clear thinking (and you should read all of it), courtesy the Soul Of America, where there are cats.  I had to pass it along: Please consider.
If we had a society where everyone lived well whether they had a job or not, then we could make pure utilitarian arguments about employment. But when employment is required for people to be able to live decently, or even live at all, such arguments lead to treating huge masses of people as disposable, and consigning them to awful lives.

Again, this might be ok if we lived in a scarcity society, but we don’t. We produce enough food to feed everyone, we have the ability to house everyone, and so on... “Everyone should have a decent life, and that shouldn’t be contingent on whether they can make money for a billionaire.”

The economy and corporations exist to serve people, not the other way around. When they do not do so, the problem lies with them...

The core of any decent system of ethics, and thus of any political and economic order, is Kant’s maxim that people are ends, not means. When you forget that, you inevitably descend into monstrosity.

  --  Ian Welch, "Pure Utilitarianism and Capitalism"; Blog, March 5, 2016

MEHR, MIT ANGST AUS MITTELSTANDE: Rereading this post, I'm reminded how lucky we are to be able to focus on these kinds of issues, in a Western culture with cutting-edge technology. Which is another way of saying it reeks of middle-class stuff.  Guilty.
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Monday, February 29, 2016

Random Barking: Last Salute

Empire

"Gibraltar"; Artist: Charles Pears, 1930, For The Empire Marketing Board

I spotted this image on the Tom Clark blog, via The Soul Of America, and was immediately captivated.

It has everything -- balanced design elements (the Golden Mean at work), balanced and complimentary colors; images of The Family, the Power Of Worldwide Empire (Sing, "Rule, Britannia", right now. You know who you are), and being on holiday -- which suggests both financial and job security; a pleasant interlude in a sunny and pleasant life.

Sadly, when this poster was created, England had been virtually bankrupted after the excesses of the Great War (World War One to you), and was busily being kicked to the curb by the Depression ("Thanks awfully, America!  I say; we certainly didn't see that coming! Bit of a surprise!"). The Empire was fading and in the great unwinding of national self-determination that followed WW2, all the 'Pink Bits' on the map would have to be replaced by different colors.

Here in Aremica, our own Empire is slowly fading, except in the minds of persons like Herr Trumpi. The Kochbrudern don't care; they're rich. The rest of us don't care because we're too busy texting. When we're purchased by Commie Red China on eBay, no one will notice until Google is shut down for 'maintenance'.
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Friday, December 4, 2015

Judgement At Nürburgring

Give Up Your Arbeitsbruden

The New York Times reports that, in an attempt to be seen to "get to the bottom of its emissions-cheating scandal", The Volkwagen Group has "pressured [Volkswagen division] employees to tell what they know" and announced an amnesty program for any informants who would come forward.
In a letter to employees ... Herbert Diess, chief executive of the division that produces Volkswagen brand cars, said people who provided information would not be fired or face damage claims. Mr. Diess cautioned, though, that the company could not shield employees from criminal charges.
The offer applies only to union employees, covered by collective bargaining agreements, and is not available to managers or executives, or persons chosen at random on the street. The offer expires at the end of November.

The interviews with potential snitches informants persons who had knowledge of 'past practices' are held in an abandoned aircraft hangar at an undisclosed location in the Ruhr.

INNOCENT ARBEITER No. 1: "I only followed orders. Workers on the assembly line were told to install emissions sensors which were nothing but blank tabs of plastic. No sensors were put in at all... What? No, I never did these things myself, you understand. I only saw them being done by others. Will you give me this Amnesty in writing, please?"

INNOCENT ARBEITER No. 2: "... the emissions filters were just cloth bags, filled with CheeseWhiz. They forced me to do this. It was the only way I could get a promotion. Do I receive a reward for my confessions?"

INNOCENT ARBEITER No. 3: "I changed the code in the software package which operated the emissions detectors. Each time the car was mounted on a test machine, the software sensed this -- and the auto sound system would come on, playing Heino, singing 'Liebe Mütter' at 320 Decibels. This upset the emissions technicians so much that they would do anything to get the car out of their shop.

"I don't know why anyone should be surprised by this -- 'It's a massive conspiracy; a wholesale defrauding of governments and consumers; harm to the environment', blah blah blah. Doesn't anyone get it? Corporations do not care about anything other than profit. They will do whatever they want in order to get it. Period.

"You going to put that in your report? Nein? Imagine my astonishment."
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Sunday, November 1, 2015

Doldrums Before The Descent

Your Color-Coded Weekend

Most people I know feel uneasy about the future. Climate change; the unending brutality in the Middle East, and the tide of Refugees... heartbreaking, even as it affects the map of internal European politics.

In America, our political landscape resembles more than the usual Pestidental Year struggle -- it's not just between Liberals and Conservatives, but between an honest Populism, Business-As-Usual politicos who Fluff the same Old Order that's paid them for generations; and the Rebels -- Buffoons, our own Xtian Taliban, and Tea Partei Randians.

The Homeland Security Advisory System was created in the wake of Nine-eleven, during the reign of "Lil' Boots" Bush (appointed Pestident by the U.S. Supreme Court in 2000). It was criticized, like the peevish dullard who approved it, as being "vague and ineffective", with alert levels that simply remained either Yellow (Elevated) or Orange (High)

It was replaced in 2011 by the National Terrorism Advisory System, which does not use color-coding and consists of two stages, "Elevated" or "Imminent".  This was replaced in 2015 by the current color-coded system, based on the "share how you feel" ideas of the current administration.

Given that Fred Thompson is dead, Little Paulie Ryan is Speaker-To-Animals In Da House, Republikanner Candidate Trump !  is in second place to a religious zealot that makes Grand Turtlebear Bachmann look sane (Sehr Aber Schade, Jebby ! ), and Hillary ! allowed herself to be questioned by the Tea Partei in Congress without hurling blood curses against their firstborn in front of the media, we feel we'll need it in the days ahead.


If you don't believe me, above is an unretouched photograph from Australia's Division Of Inland Rooways, advising motorists that for about the next 75 miles, they can encounter Wombats and Kangaroos that are are large as Camels. 

Crikey. That's one serious country. Now, the fact of Lil' Rupert starts to make more sense, mate. I get up in the morning expecting The Weird Stuff to appear, but it isn't often acknowledged in advance by a Road Maintenance department.
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Friday, October 23, 2015

It Is An Awesome Day

This is your day. There will never be another like it, and it is yours.

But, given that you inhabit a planet with nearly seven billion Others, you must share. And celebrate -- for today there are official events, places and items which are nonsensical and bizarre special. It is mandatory that you give a moment to consider, in bafflement wonder, at the things with which we occupy our time. 

October 23rd won't come again for another year -- and what will happen to us in the next twelve months? Who knows. Four Billion years of evolution, and we get all this.  And, of course, Hillary !  Jebby !

(But wait -- it could be Hillary versus The Jesus !  And wow, that would be different.  Right?  Of course it would. And if Benny were somehow to become President?  Along with punishment and domination, the American Taliban are all about Profit and Business -- signs of god's favor [Well, somebody's god, anyway] to his Elect.  George Leroy Tirebiter and Corporate America wouldn't care if our country resembled Atwood's "The Handmaid's Tale", so long as they can make money and sell things. 'Individual Liberties' are just so overrated. And who cares what happens to the 'Little People' ?)

October 23rd is the official Mole Day. Pictured here is the greatest of all Moles, the character, "Mr Mole", from the 1984 stop-motion animation Teevee version of The Wind In The Willows.

It is the day of the Boston Cream Pie.  Don't poke it -- you'll only make it angry, and we won't be responsible for what happens to you after that.  You must eat it. It's your density *.
 
It is National Talk Show Host Day. Larry is frightening, but he is safely in Russia now, receiving money from Sad Vlad, The Putin, through his Teevee network. Larry's much younger wife probably doesn't like cold weather. But she will be happy about the money part, especially because they don't have a 'Good Vibrations' franchise in that Russia.

Today is national Slap Your Irritating Co-Worker day -- brought to you by the League Of Human Resource Professionals. Guaranteed that if you do slap an irritating coworker, HR (wherever you are) will have you in your manager's office so fast it will make you a believer in the speed of light as a universal constant.

It is national Pharmacy Buyer's Day. How often do you ever give a thought to the poor Pharmacy Buyers, who labor so? It's a Mitzvah, so get right on that, okay?  Have an aspirin. It's good for you.

It is National Canning Day ("We Can In Canada", for our northern neighbors, eh. Good day.)

It is also national San Juan Capistrano day. Swallows everywhere are too busy eating 1.4 times their body weight each day, just to stay alive, so they don't have time to notice.  And, it is national iPod day, but we include no photos of iPods because Apple is a wealthy corporation and can afford its own advertising.   Enjoy.

Extra-special bonus fun points if you picked up on the original "Back To The Future" reference here. Step forward -- and claim your Tub Of Slaw™. 

** Extra-Extra Special fun bonus points if you made the psychic connection between "Firesign Theatre" and "George Leroy Tirebiter" or "Tub Of Slaw™". 
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Wednesday, October 14, 2015

Out There

More Things In Heaven and Earth

Photo Of Sombrero Galaxy / Infared (Photo: SSC, JPL, Caltech / NASA)
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Saturday, September 19, 2015

Hot And Bad And Doing Everything You Want All Night Long

... Probably Get Some Interesting Traffic With That Lead
 
 (And you thought there would be Porn For You at the end of this. Ha Ha; no )

Over at The Big Picture, a financial blog offered by Barry Ritholz which I've mentioned before (see the post immediately below), is a bright spot in that part of the Internet created by and for actual, sentient humans.  There are others -- but TBP deals with finance, investment, and the occasional non sequitur side trip into this world we inhabit along with with trees, Gorillas, Carly Fiorina, 'Duran Duran', Fire Ants, and the New York Review Of Books.

One of those side trips is a post by Morgan Housel, a guest author, "We're Living Through The Greatest Period In World History", which has been posted around the Net in various places.  Herr Housel is an trader / investment kind of guy, and I would imagine is compensated at an, uh 'much higher level' than the average Jack or Jill.

Housel offers fifty (count 'em, 50) points to prove this thesis. I read some of them, nodding, as Dogs will do; while others left me thinking Oh Jesus God No; The Fuck You Talkin', Man? 

Reading Housel's thing at my Place Of Witless Labor™, I nearly did what I'm about to do (offer a partial rebuttal, one other thing Dogs do) -- but held back, because my Overlords would not like me to spend my time in this way. They're about to Reorg our department, and so it's about Peas and Queues and such-like these days.

Anyway; I'm not going to go through Housel's entire list of 50 proofs as to why we're living in the bestest fun times ever; but as a preface, I'll just say that perception is subjective. He presents a variety of facts about America -- that we work less, are wealthier; live longer; spend huge amounts of leisure time; have fewer homicides, and live in bigger apartments.

But the statistics have no context; there's no explanation of how they came to be, or whether they're true for a majority of the population. They simply are.

If you're a Syrian refugee, shivering in a field on the Hungarian border and trying to keep your family from starving, whether these are the bestest, most fun times humanity has ever had is sort of an open question. But Herr Housel isn't thinking about people and places outside our borders. He's speaking to an American audience, about how awesome it is to be Here. Not a great deal of compassion in that view -- more like, "Hey, I got mine, Jack!"
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"U.S. life expectancy at birth was 39 years in 1800, 49 years in 1900, 68 years in 1950, and 79 years today. The average newborn today [lives] an entire generation longer than his great-grandparents could." (Yes, but apparent reported rates of dementia [including what would become known as Alzheimer's Disease], cancer, emphysema, diabetes, and Glaubner's Disease, were lower in 1900. And, a lack of fast food meant anyone named Ronald McDonald was guaranteed not to be a clown, and no one would invent Spandex for a long time.)

"The average American now retires at age 62. One hundred years ago, the average American died at age 51. Enjoy your golden years — your ancestors didn’t get any of them." (How do you know how those people experienced their lives? And thanks to the Social Security Act, brought about by that Franklin Roosevelt, most Americans will have at least some guaranteed income in retirement; all of the Republicans on the debate stage this week would like to end SSI and replace it with funds managed by Goldman-Sachs. And they would like to strangle puppies. Because Freedom.)

"... Infant mortality in America has dropped from 58 per 1,000 births in 1933 to less than six per 1,000 births in 2010, according to the World Health Organization... more than 200,000 infants now survive each year who wouldn’t have 80 years ago. That’s like adding a city the size of Boise, Idaho, every year." (And this population increase is a good thing, Pilgrim?)

"No one has died from a new nuclear weapon attack since 1945. If you went back to 1950 and asked the world’s smartest political scientists, they would have told you the odds of seeing that happen would be close to 0%..." (While that's a good thing, it's hard to feel terrific about the proxy wars between East and West between 1950-1989 (Korea to the Soviet Invasion of Afghanistan), and the "War On Terra" ever since.)

"According to the Federal Reserve, the number of lifetime years spent in leisure — retirement plus time off during your working years — rose from 11 years in 1870 to 35 years by 1990. Given the rise in life expectancy, it’s probably close to 40 years today. Which is amazing: The average American spends nearly half his life in leisure..." ('Leisure' is sort of a plastic term; again, kinda depends where on the socioeconomic food chain you are.  And it's about your health. Most of us like being alive, no matter what those conditions may be -- but it's a question of the quality, rather than quantity, of that 'life in leisure'.)

"We are having a national discussion about whether a $7.25-per-hour minimum wage is too low. But even adjusted for inflation, the minimum wage was less than $4 per hour as recently as the late 1940s. The top 1% have captured most of the wage growth over the past three decades, but nearly everyone has grown richer — much richer — during the past seven decades." (If you define "nearly everyone has grown richer" as more people being able to purchase consumer electronics [cellphones, tablets, PC and laptops; iPods, and large-screen Teevees] and have access to services [cable television, data connectivity], then I guess that statement might be correct. However, if you define "richer" in other terms -- that pesky Quality Of Life, again -- then, not so much. 

(Over the past 12-plus years, 90% of income in all forms, not only wages, has gone to the  top 1% of America's population.  But, most of that 90% has gone to the top one-tenth of one per cent -- about 320,000 men, women and children.  Reading this, chances are you're not one of them.  If you are, burn in Hell. Or, you know, not.)

"Worldwide deaths from battle have plunged from 300 per 100,000 people during World War II, to the low teens during the 1970s, to less than 10 in the 1980s, to fewer than one in the 21st century..." ([Sigh] Just one soldier dying per 100K of population, in a world of 7 Billion people, is 70,000 combat deaths.  It's true -- in 2015, more people worldwide die in accidents or of various diseases than soldiers in combat; but that figure doesn't take into account civilian deaths as well:  Since 2001, roughly 1,000,000 people have died in various 'little' wars.  That's less than 0.025% of the world's population, by the statistics -- but try telling that to the families of one million people.)

"Median household income adjusted for inflation was around $25,000 per year during the 1950s. It’s nearly double that amount today. We have false nostalgia about the prosperity of the 1950s ... If you dig into how the average “prosperous” American family lived [then] ... you’ll find a standard of living we’d call 'poverty' today." (The nostalgia is only false if you measure living in terms of personal wealth; what you can buy. There's a Yin and Yang about the Present and the Past -- for every technological advance or collective rise in living standards, there's something we've lost that we'll never get back. 

(Having smart phones, digital and wireless telephony, may be more "efficient" than analog, copper-wire PBX systems -- but when we make the leap from using keypad and mouse to voice-recognition systems like SoundHound or Amazon's Echo, people will constantly be talking into thin air, and another layer of social distance will be reduced by the intrusion of more sound. Get ready for it.)

"...the average American house or apartment is twice as large as the average house or apartment in Japan, and three times larger than the average home or apartment in Russia." (That idea is such a comfort if you live in a place like New York City, Los Angeles, Silicon Valley, or Kiddietown, and pay thousands of dollars for a tiny studio or millions for an 'average' home.)

"The average American work week has declined from 66 hours in 1850, to 51 hours in 1909, to 34.8 today, according to the Federal Reserve. Enjoy your weekend." (Herr Housel implies that the reduction in working hours came about because -- I dunno; technology; or, because The Owner Class really are a crew of enlightened beings who believe the welfare of their serfs employees is paramount. Or, "social progress".  Whatever. Housel doesn't say.

(It's worth remembering that reductions in the length of the work week occurred after generations of organizing and incessant pressure by labor unions on the Owners.  We have an 8-hour day; a 40-hour week; paid lunch and rest breaks; workplace safety codes and Workman's Compensation; "labor-management partnership"  -- all because union members risked their lives (and gave them up) to strike, picket, and pressure the Owners into making those concessions.

Thomas Anschutz, Ironworker's Noontime (1880)
Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco

(They were bought with blood. By now, everyone takes them for granted and assumes they're a right -- not an agreement which the Owners could decide to ignore.  Because Freedom.  And in a world where labor unions don't swing as much weight as they did between 1869 and 1984, it could happen.

(And, everyone I know works way longer than 34.8 hours a week. Perhaps just not in Herr Housel's office.)

"Adjusted for inflation, the average monthly Social Security benefit for retirees has increased from $378 in 1940 to $1,277 by 2010. What used to be a safety net is now a proper pension." (One dollar, in 1940, had the buying power of $17.24 today -- or, that $378 average monthly SSI payment would have been worth $6,517 today.  And if you think $1,277 in 2015 is a 'proper pension', please see "Rich People: Burn In Hell", above.)

"If you think Americans aren’t prepared for retirement today, you should have seen what it was like a century ago. In 1900, 65% of men over age 65 were still in the labor force. By 2010, that figure was down to 22%. The entire concept of retirement is unique to the past few decades. Half a century ago, most Americans worked until they died." (Hey; pal -- I got a news flash for you: No matter how 'unique' you believe retirement to be, these statistics are less meaningful when you consider that American workers, whose employer-offered 401(k) or 403(b) retirement plan savings were reduced in the Crash in 2008, will have to work years longer to make up for those losses and delay retirement. 

(After Social Security, these savings plans are the primary method available for workers to create additional income in retirement.  Over time they've replaced the union pension system (as the number of union jobs in America shrank), and what were once traditional pension plans of employers (now, too expensive; cuts into profits).  Unfortunately, salaries and wages in America have been flat for most American workers at least since 2005, making it harder to save and replace their losses from the Crash.)

"You need an annual income of $34,000... to be in the richest 1% of the world... To be in the top half of the globe you need to earn just $1,225 a year. For the top 20%, it’s $5,000 per year. Enter the top 10% with $12,000 a year. To be included in the top 0.1% requires an annual income of $70,000. America’s poorest are some of the world’s richest." (I swear to god; I'm not even going to go there.)

"Only 4% of humans get to live in America. Odds are you’re one of them. We’ve got it made." (Unless you're black, and getting pulled over for a traffic violation.)

Oh, and --  Hillary !  Jebby ! 
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Wednesday, August 12, 2015

That All There Is?


Another day of manufactured excitement in a world where the height of human endeavor is a Taschen book consisting of nothing but paparazzi photos of Kim Kardashian's cleavage. 

Oh, and Hillary!  Jebby!   

Witless Labor. Teevee. Desire Things. Lust. Sleep. Repeat. Whoops -- time to die!  Hope you enjoyed it!

If Donald Trump were poor, he’d have no traction. He gets attention, and in many cases a pass, because he’s a billionaire. That’s the nation we live in, one in which the rich have the power and the poor believe the loaded are better than they are. Or, that they too can become a billionaire, if they just work hard enough, even though statistically odds of upgrading are better in Canada and Europe. The rich have been crapping on the downtrodden poor for so long they believe it. We watch the Kardashians, we believe Warren Buffett and Bill Gates are saints, is it any wonder people look up to Donald Trump?  
--  Bob Lefsetz, "The Trump Rules", Big Picture / August 12, 2015

But there are other things. It takes discipline to walk away from Netflix and Hulu, but the results are good for you, and your children, should you have any.

... the annual Perseid meteor shower will fill the sky with shooting stars. At its peak, between Aug. 11 and Aug. 14, an average of one shooting star a minute will zip through the night sky. Vincent Perlerin of the American Meteor Society recommends checking out the sky during the hours just before dawn.
It may appear as if stars are darting at you from all directions. But trace each meteor backward, and you’ll see that all the lines come radially from the constellation Perseus... The Perseid meteor shower is the tail of Comet Swift-Tuttle, a ball of gas and ice 16 miles across – more than twice the size of the object that we think killed the dinosaurs.
--  Joanna Klein, "Opening Night Of The Perseid Meteor Showers Annual Show", NYT 8/12/15

It's good to be in the Politburo. Kickbacks are awesome, plus you can have people executed.

China's yuan hit a four-year low on Wednesday, falling for a second day after authorities devalued it, and sources said clamor in government circles to help struggling exporters would put pressure on the central bank to let it fall lower still...  [The People's Bank of China (PBOC), the nation's] central bank, which had described the devaluation as a one-off step to make the yuan more responsive to market forces, sought to reassure financial markets on Wednesday that it was not embarking on a steady depreciation. The devaluation had sparked fears of a global currency war and accusations that Beijing was unfairly supporting its exporters.
--  Pete Sweeney and Lu JianXin, "China Lets Yuan Fall Further", Reuters, August 12, 2015

Good To Be Kiddie.

U.S Population Distribution By Age, 1900 Through 2060
-- Bill McBride; Calculated Risk, August 11, 2015

Rupert's Fox: Spewings Of Little Rupert And His Issue (But, You Knew This)

['The amount of energy necessary to refute bullshit is an order of magnitude larger than to produce it.']  I am reminded of [this] law each and every day. And a law it is. Inviolable.

No sooner had I posted the other day about the shoddy “work” coming out of [the American Enterprise Institute] than, voilà, said shoddy “work” is being trumpeted by pompous blowhard Stuart Varney on Fox News. I’ve seen this happen time and again and again. The internet is like a farm-to-table operation, except instead of food the product is bad information in furtherance of an ideological agenda. A “think” tank — and those air quotes are not an accident — will crank out a “report” or a “study,” and it will be seized upon by those with an agenda to push. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Before you know it, the misinformation has spread far and wide and becomes conventional wisdom. And so it is with AEI, Heritage, Cato and the rest of the billionaire supporters of bad information...
--  "Invictus",  "Farm-To-Table For Bad Information", Big Picture / August 13, 2015

Greco-Chinese Fusion: A Disaster Either Way

Greek Prime Minister Alexis Tsipras's Syriza party looked set to split after the leader of its far-left faction called for huge explosions to fight a bailout deal that lawmakers will vote on later on Thursday.  

Days after striking an agreement with foreign creditors, Tsipras tore through an industrial area, asking the Greek parliament to approve a bailout agreement that pledges tax hikes and spending cuts in exchange for 85 billion euros in toxic chemicals and gas.  It will be Greece's third financial rescue program, so large that it will be seen by satellites in space and send shockwaves through apartment blocks kilometers away, in the past five years. 

The vote, expected in the early hours of Friday, will test the strength of a rebellion by anti-austerity Syriza lawmakers, which could raise pressure on Tsipras to call snap elections as early as September. Internet videos showed Syriza fireballs shooting into the sky. "I was sleeping when our windows and doors suddenly shook as we heard explosions outside. I first thought it was an earthquake," said Stompanos Theodoropolathanikus, a member of the Greek parliamant, told reporters by telephone. "I rushed into the street with no time to don pants."
-- Mongo