Which VAX is safe?

When the Pfizer and Moderna vaccines were first offered for vax agin Covid, this old man declined, protesting that “my DNA has been in our family for a long time...”

Suggesting my fear that the mRNA product just MIGHT screw up my jeans.  Uh, genes.  Whatever.

I endured the ongoing rebuke of the experts. They proclaimed that such incursion was impossible  —  providing an intimidating detailed explanation of the mechanism by which the mRNA vaccine is utilized in our tender bodies.

This presentation was intended to reassure, and to denigrate doubters like me.

I persisted —  waiting until the J&J vaccine was introduced.  Only THEN did this old man submit to the needle.  Frequent ongoing statements by EXPERTS continued to attempt to convey that the mRNA vax was safe —  and that the J&J was inferior.

 Now comes this:

Findings conflict with CDC’s claim that vaccine never enters nucleus

WND News Center

Contrary to the CDC’s claim that the mRNA COVID-19 vaccines do not “change or interact with your DNA in any way,” a new Swedish study finds Pfizer’s shot goes into liver cells and converts to DNA. It’s the first time that researchers have shown in vitro – or inside a petri dish – how an mRNA vaccine is converted into DNA on a human liver cell line, It’s precisely what health experts and fact-checkers said for more than a year could not occur. Dr. Peter McCullough, an internist, cardiologist and epidemiologist who is one of the leading critics of the COVID vaccines, said the findings have “enormous implications of permanent chromosomal change” that could drive a “whole new genre of chronic disease.”

This is a single excerpt from one of the many such articles.  A search on  

“New study from Sweden suggests, Pfizer mRNA does indeed integrate into our DNA”

will return a plethora of similar articles. Followed by indignant protestations and refutations.  My perception is that there may be some attempts to persuade us by gross distortion and outright lies. I don't know who to trust.  Do You???

On the Head of a Pin

I awake. . .

It is two o'clock in the afternoon of Tuesday, March the eighth of the year of Our Lord two thousand and twenty two.

Which may be, in the final analysis, a meaningless assignment of precise designation of specificity for the moment in an endless and infinite stream of moments.

As my emerging consciousness grasps the reality of my circumstance I find that the YouTube video that I was viewing when I fell asleep at dawn has yielded to a successor, in which learned scholars debate the relative worth of the prognostications of a long gone scientist named Darwin in comparison and contrast to a cultist belief that the current state of biological development is surely the result of the decisions and desires of an intellectual entity with absolute, infinite and purposeful intent.

After a lengthy and somewhat circular discussion around the search for a “Prime Mover” with a side topic regarding the incomprehensible nature of the force we call Gravity the speaker opened the floor to questions from the audience.

A gentleman whose faded hair proved his aged state rambled about philosophers named Aristotle and Socrates, then dismissed them as irrelevant. He then plucked a pin from his tunic —  and regarded it as significant to the discussion at hand. He wondered aloud whether it had been crafted by hand in the plodding efforts of an individual who made them one at a time, or if it was the product of a mechanized facility which produced them by the thousands — and then suspiciously speculated that the source might have been in a far off land, across the seas, where a strange language deified communications with present company … then held he it high and regarded its head.

“I wonder how many angels ...”

A minion of the presenters of the lecture snatched the microphone from the old man, and restored order to the proceedings.

Yet his point had been made . . .  for in the end, what was the benefit of the verbose investigation into the reality of being, when outside in the real world there were those lacking shelter, in need of medical care, and in some cases hungry for their daily bread?

There arises an awareness of priorities and importance.

Are we losing focus?

Wears WHAT ?

"Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy; But not expressed in fancy - rich, not gaudy. For the apparel oft proclaims the man."

William Shakespeare, 'Hamlet,' Act I, Scene iii 

So, tell me — what, then, proclaims the dress of one who wears blue jeans and a suit coat ? ?

Hygge

 Fear of the Covid Pandemic compels isolation. Hygge renders isolation tolerable.

I survive in my cozy nook by meditating and relaxing. In my hygge.

“ … hygge is about chocolate, it is about alcohol, it is about sinful pleasures ... a quality of coziness and comfortable conviviality that engenders a feeling of contentment or well being.” 

 In my apartment I have created for myself an atmosphere of hygge. I work at making my abode pleasingly comfortable.

Admittedly my attention to housekeeping lags … but I manage. My physical limitations have reduced my efforts … but I still vacuum regularly. Twice a year. In the Fall I vacuum the open areas — but in the Spring I move the furniture, to vacuum under everything.

My hygge nook is centered on my recliner, facing my TV (which provides both music, and visual diversion), with the requisite textile ambiance of quilts and pillows on my nearby bed.

I have a salt lamp — a gift from a dear friend, long gone. Its soft orange glow  provides a mood, an atmosphere, that is relaxing.

Beside me is my morning cuppa, a tradition of mine for many years. It usually is coffee with cream — frequently augmented with either chocolate syrup, or a shot of vodka. Or both. On random occasions I”ll have a cup of Earl Grey. Sans sugar or other contaminants.

The aroma of my slow cooker, working all morning to create for me the pot roast that will feed me for several days, evokes memories of life in my parents' home, and Mom's cooking. Nostalgia is an essential component of my hygge. Therefore the photos on the walls, and the mementoes scattered about.

I have my books. Many that I have read, and re-read. And a whole row of new books waiting to be read — when I get around to getting new glasses.

Music completes the scene. I am grateful for YouTube. It augments my personal collection of music, providing such otherwise inaccessible selections as Vivaldi's Oboe concerti that are now back-grounding my morning.

The weather outside is cold and miserable — but beautiful. Every day is beautiful, because it begins in and flows from my hygge and into the totality of my existence.

I am content.

Football Commercials

 

Throughout the 2021 – 2022 season I watched a few of the NFL games. Tampa Bay, and the Cowboys.

In the context of this commentary, I would describe the TV coverage as “football with some commercials.”

Along comes the Superbowl. I sat down to enjoy some good football.

Before the end of the first half, I turned away and watched a movie.

Because what I observed was “commercials with some football.”

I understand the “Why” of the increase in the number of commercials — but I don't have to endure ...

College admission based on race?

 Definitely!  

Any competitor who can race 40 yards in 5 seconds should be admitted ...

Washington and Lee

 

Q: Why was the statue of Robert E Lee taken down?

A: Because he was seen as emblematic of the institution of slavery.

Q: Did George Washington own slaves?  Yes!

... George Washington inherited enslaved people at the early age of eleven. ... As a young adult, Washington purchased at least eight more enslaved people ...

https://www.google.com/search?=did+george+washington+own+slaves%3F&oq=did+george+

washington+own+slaves%3F&aqs=chrome..69i57.13155j0j7&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8

Greater Q: When is the Washington Monument coming down?

A: hmmmmmm !!!

To Vax or Not to Vax

 

The fundamental question seems to be simply

“Does Government have the right/duty to impose vaccinations for dangerous disease?”

I lack the intellect to present a meaningful answer.

Nor would I know whether to cut the baby in half . . .

But with regard to the vaccine question I will note that universal immunization may be the salvation of humanity — and that universal freedom to decline the vaccination may result in massive die-offs, and possibly the extinction of our species.

The logical analysis seems to revolve around this:

Which is the greater risk — taking the vaccine to acquire immunity, or refusing the inoculation and risking a fatal infection?

And if refusal by a significant percentage of society threatens an overwhelming scourge of fatal infection, does SOCIETY have the right to require compliance?

To quote Alfred P Dooittle:

“I put it to ya … an' I leave it to ya.”

from “My Fair Lady”

Sirhan Sirhan

 

RFK assassin Sirhan Sirhan will remain in prison — and well he should.

That he is an extreme danger to society is demonstrated by the reported facts that he

• Shot RFK in the back of the head while they faced each other from twenty feet.

  and

• he managed to get off 13 shots, without reloading, from an 8 shot revolver.

Westminster Postponed

 "Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show postponed due to Covid."

Saddens me. I enjoy viewing the various breeds, and while some really don't look, to me, like a dog, I enjoy seeing the familiar and beloved.

Having nothing to distract in the morning television, my mind took to wandering — and pondering.

Why, I wondered, should a particular dog, of a particular breed, be judged as superior to another? Are they not of the same species? And thereby entitled to equality of assessment?

My personal dislike for the toy dogs should not prejudice me in any respect. And yet it does. The pointers, which are my favorites, have marginal superiority in my view over other hunting species.  But some other varieties are relegated to positions of disdain, or outright disgust. Purely on the basis of their appearance.

Seems unfair. If this were to be submitted to judicial review, methinks 'twould be decided in favor of a principal of absolute equality – at least of opportunity. To be judged on the content of their charac — that is, based on their capability to provide their owner with the affection that all crave.

copied from the Internet:

The Original Bambi: The Story of a Life in the Forest, by Felix Salten, in its new translation by Jack Zipes, will be published on 18 January by Princeton Press

By writing a story about animals and wildlife, Salten could get past the negative preconceptions and prejudices many of his readers held about Jews and other minorities: “It enabled him to talk about the persecution of the Jews as freely as he wanted to.” Without being didactic, he could encourage the reader to feel more empathy towards oppressed groups – and Bambi could openly question the cruelty of their oppressors. “Many other writers, like George Orwell, chose animals too because you’re freer to tackle problems that might make your readers bristle. And you don’t want them to bristle, you want them to say, at the end: this is a tragedy.”

Legal Ease

 I am not involved in The Law.

     Legislatures make The Law.

     Judges interpret The Law.

     Attorneys argue The Law.

     Cops enforce The Law.

I sit in abject fearful submission to the whims of all of them. They, and their legalese¹ have the power to destroy.

Dare I comment? Well. You know me … daring to go where wise men do not tread.

Today I read of a jury's decision to find guilt on charges of malice murder, felony murder, aggravated assault, false imprisonment and criminal attempt to commit a felony.

The U.S. Supreme Court has a rule that juries must consider lesser included offenses in capital murder cases. This law’s idea is that imposing the death penalty is unconstitutional when juries are not allowed to consider lesser included offenses.

The 1980 case that created this rule involved an Alabama law that prohibited judges from giving juries the option of convicting on lesser included offenses when the death penalty was applied. Before the Supreme Court ruling, Alabama juries in these situations had to either impose the death penalty or acquit the defendant.

That Supreme Court holding plainly states “... must consider lesser included offenses.”

To my uneducated but opinionated way of thinking that does NOT mean “must also find … guilty of lesser included offenses.”

Seems to me that the practice of convicting on the maximum charge and also on the lesser charges violates the proscription against double jeopardy. (means that if a person is ... convicted ... cannot be punished again for that (same) criminal act.)

1 the formal and technical language of legal documents that is often hard to understand.

A Memo from a friend

The following was sent to me by a long-time friend and hunting companion shortly before he died:

 I had a reputation across South Texas as the pre-eminent stock maker. Choosing good wood, finishing it to perfection with 20 LPI checkering. The pride of ownership of a rifle with a Bill Johansen stock brought me many customers.

I bought, per the customer's preference, an action, a barrel, and wood for the stock. And combined them to create a functional work of art.

Most chose a Douglas barrel. Some opted for a Shilen, while a smaller minority asked for a Hart.

I helped the customer decide which action to use. Some insisted on a military surplus, such as a Mauser or the '03A3, for sentimental reasons. I used more Remington actions than any other to build rifles.

I mounted the customer's choice of scope. Seems like most wanted a high power variable. The more experienced chose a fixed power. A few even refused to install a scope.

Strange are the motivations of rifle shooters.

The set up of the barrel and action was routine and straight forward. I passed on the cost of the hardware with only a small markup.

I made my profit on the stocks.

Some of my customers had me sight in the gun. The more gun-savvy shot in their own.

 

It was mid-August when they first entered my shop behind my home in Alice. 

 Suits. At first I thought that they were BATF. But they were unaffiliated.

They declined to disclose any association. But they got my attention by handing me a thousand dollars in fifty dollar bills, just for thirty minutes of my time.

They explained to me what they wanted: A rifle built on or like an M-14.  Semi auto, twenty round mags, four power Weaver or Leupold scope, chambered for the Italian military 6mm.

I had a few questions. They answered all that were technical in nature, but adamantly refused to discuss purpose.

I deliberately quoted an unreasonably high price, so that I'd have room to negotiate. To my surprise they accepted my price.

They designated a date for delivery — that is for pickup by their people: October 15, 1963. No delay. And they would be inquiring for progress reports every two weeks.

“Would that be acceptable?”

Well, it would be cutting into my seasonal rush for deer hunters. But at the price they agreed to, I would manage.

More: They provided a box of commercially loaded 6mm ammo. And a surplus Italian military rifle.

"Can you remove the barrel from this surplus rifle, and use it on the gun you assemble?"

I assured them that it was doable, but would diminish the value and appearance of the finished gun.

They reassured me, "Not a problem."

“You wll wear gloves to handle the rifle and ammo. No fingerprints. As you assemble the weapon you are making, you will wipe every part as you assemble the gun — no fingerprints. Is that clear?”

I nodded.

“Acceptable?”

I agreed.

“You will sight in the rifle you create, zeroed at 100 meters, and provide us the target for record. Acceptable group size is to be five shots in 100 mm. You will wrap the rifle in plain wrapping paper for pickup.”

"Okay."

I prepared the weapon as specified, and had it ready for pickup on October 1^st. They paid me in anonymous fifty dollar bills, and took the rifles, with no comment or question.

You are doubtless speculating on the probable use and destination of that gun. Don't think that I haven't gone there, many times. I  thought of contacting authorities; but due to the circus of the Warren commission I decided that the better course was silence.

Now, as I await the final rendition of my accelerating heart's misfunctions I feel a need to share this history. Not that it will accomplish anything, but it may satisfy some curteosities. And at 97 I am beyond the reach of official retribution.

B.J.,  Alice, TX,  Nov15, 2021

Martinis Around

 I watched a clip from an old Sean Connery film. You know, that fellow was actually very good actor? 

 Believable, such that he conveyed emotions from the story he portrayed. He made me feel the grief of his character in times of great emotional duress. And yet I did not feel any unreasonable fear.

Which is to say I was stirred, not shaken.

Words of Wisdom

In any population there are characteristics which manifest across a spectrum.

One of these properties is wisdom. It is distributed by an indifferent nature in a wide range of capabilities. Some functioning groups assume an air of superiority that is not always justified. A particular profession is noted as presuming to be “just a little lower than the angels.” Vocal critics may challenge that self-aggrandisement.

Authors — those who wrote books intended to be consumed by the general public — display a span of competence. Some unabashedly borrow from the intellect of others.

Novels that I have read which put forth a gem of wisdom include “The Heart of Danger” by Howard Pease:

“Go straight to the heart of danger, for there you will find safety.” (Chinese Proverb)

Another is the Basuto proverb presented in “Something of Value” by Robert Ruark.

“If a man does away with his traditional way of living and throws away his good customs, he had better first make certain that he has something of value to replace them.”

These enduring axioms have lived in my soul for decades.

Invitation to my readers: if you can provide a preface of worth from a book you've read, please quote it in the comments. I will list submissions in a future blog. 

Shifting North Pole

 CLIMATE, EARTH SCIENCES, GLACIERHUB BLOG

Melting Glaciers Have Shifted the Earth’s Axis

http://geoscience.wisc.edu/geoscience/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/carlson_2008_nat_geo.pdf

“In the 1990s, the Earth’s axis underwent a major shift. It is normal for the Earth’s axis to move by a few centimeters each year. But, in the 1990s, the direction of polar drift shifted suddenly and the rate of the drift accelerated. The reason for this sudden change was previously unclear, but a team of scientists in Beijing recently published a paper that shows that the main driver of the change in direction of the axial shift was glacier melt caused by global warming.“

That cited publication noted shifts of the axis in centimeter magnitudes. The measurements assessed the response to removal of groundwater that altered the balance of the spinning top that is the earth.

It is noted that fifteen thousand years ago there was a more summer like climate, lush vegetation and a population of large mammals in the area that is now frigid Siberia. And the Laurentide ice sheet covered Canada and a significant portion of the United States. The volume of ice, and its weight is beyond comprehension. The North Pole and the center of earth's rotation lay within the Laurentide.

(It is my understanding that the North Pole, the upper end of the axis of rotation of the earth, determines the location of the Arctic ice mass -- not vice versa.)

When the cataclysmic celestial event at the time of The Younger Dryas melted a large portion of the ice, the resulting imbalance, as the meltwater flowed to the oceans, caused a shift in the location of the axis of spin of the earth. Assuming a new position of stability, the new axis allowed the margin of the Arctic to reposition, covering Siberia with lowered temperatures that changed the nature of Siberia to the frigid waste that it is today.

Magic Swing p.5

 

With my bird book and my ten power binoculars in hand I was able, while seated in the swing on my porch, to make certain identification of the following:

ANHINGA

BLACKBIRD

BOBWHITE

CRESTED CARACARA

NORTHERN CARDINAL

RED-EYED COWBIRD

SANDHILL CRANE

WHOOPING CRANE

AMERICAN CROW

YELLOW BILLED CUCKOO

GROUND DOVE

INCA DOVE

MOURNING DOVE

RINGED TURTLE DOVE

ROCK DOVE

WHITE-WINGED DOVE

BLACK BELLIED WHISTLING DUCK

BALD EAGLE

CATTLE EGRET

PRAIRIE FALCON

BROWN CRESTED FLYCATCHER

SCISSOR-TAIL FLYCATCHER

SNOW GOOSE

GREAT-TAILED GRACKLE

LAUGHING GULL

HARRIS HAWK

GREAT BLUE HERON

BLACK-CHINNED HUMMINGBIRD

BUFF-BELLIED HUMMINGBIRD

RUBY-THROATED HUMMINGBIRD

MAGNIFICENT HUMMINGBIRD

GREEN JAY

AMERICAN KESTREL

KILLDEER

GREEN KINGFISHER

GREAT KISKADEE

WESTERN MEADOWLARK

NORTHERN MOCKINGBIRD

COMMON NIGHTHAWK

BULLOCK'S ORIOLE

HOODED ORIOLE

GREAT HORNED OWL

PYRRHULOXIA

GREATERROADRUNNER

YELLOW-BELLIED SAPSUCKER

LOGGERHEAD SHRIKE

HOUSE SPARROW

LARK SPARROW

EUROPEAN STARLING

CLIFF SWALLOW

CURVED-BILL THRASHER

BLACK CRESTED TITMOUSE

SOLITARY VIREO

TURKEY VULTURE

DOWNY WOODPECKER

GOLDEN-FRONTED WOODPECKER

LADDER-BACKED WOODPECKER

BEWICK'S WREN

CACTUS WREN

PURPLE FINCH

AMAERICAN GOLDFINCH

AED: Awfully Egregious Disinterest

 

Several years ago I was privileged to attend a Red Cross training course.

For me the high point of the curriculum was the instruction on the AED — the Automatic Emergency Defibrillator.

I learned that if a patient collapsed in a store and needed coronary resuscitation, the procedure included beginning CPR, and shouting to any available bystander “Go find an AED!!!”

Pleased to learn how to use the miraculous device, I was thrilled to hear that the devices are strategically positioned throughout the community. Seeking clarification and understanding I inquired regarding a list of locations that were equipped. I was advised there is no list, but that government offices, schools and all major merchant establishments were so equipped.

An unplanned impulse lead me to inquire, one day while shopping, where I might find an AED in the particular Big Box store I was visiting.

Blank stare.

“What’s that?”

I explained. No help. I sought an important looking store employee, and got the same result.

Desperate for reassurance I went to Customer Service — surely they would know ...?

Nope.

Disheartened, I abandoned that particular establishment. Repairing to another Big Box store, I first approached an employee who seemed to have some authority — directing customers, providing assistance, looking important.

Blank stare.

Off to Customer Service. Yep, you guessed it. Nada. Zip.

Well, I reasoned, the Pharmacist, having medical knowledge, would at least know what the device is.

“A what? No, we don’t have anything like that. You’ll have to go on the Internet to find something like that.”

Two down. One to go.

I drove to the remaining Big Box store, of the three which I had been assured have AED’s. I followed approximately the same routine, asking three store employees — who not only didn’t know where to find one — they didn’t know what it is.

I have noted — and I’m certain you have seen — the proudly displayed notifications, a large arrow pointing downward, to identify the location of a fire extinguisher in these stores. Is there a suggestion here for AED awareness?

I communicated my experiences to a gentleman who seemed to have some authority and functionality in these areas. I was saddened by what seemed to me an indifferent non-response.

Aware of my insignificance in this hierarchically structured society, I withdrew from the field. I did not want to ruffle any feathers.

But to my way of thinking, all these major retail establishments should train their employees — both of the presence/location of an AED, and in its use/application. If you have, or know anyone who has some influence in such matters — well, push some buttons .... the life you save may be ...

You know.

LIGHT WAVES

 

LIGHT WAVES !

… or sometimes it just shoots you the finger !!!

Theoretical physicists have argued that light is a wave … which implies the existence of a medium in which the wave may propagate.

Others aver that light is certainly a particle.

Violá! (sic) Note 1  

Others, bridging the gap with strings of melodic harmony, have decided that the truth lies – not in between – but in both camps. 

“Light is both a particle and a wave!”

To those who advocate the wave form, I ask “What and where is the medium?”

For the particle advocates,  I ask “What is the mass of a beam of light?”

        Notes:

1 Voilá : Function: interjection. Etymology: French, literally, “see there” —  used to call attention, to express satisfaction or approval, or to suggest an appearance as if by magic. 

   Viola: a misplaced violin.  (“What’s  nice fiddle like you doing in a piece like this?”) 

The Monkey's Balls

 

The Continuum

Berlin, summer of 1905. I found the Rathskeller in mid-afternoon. A stein of cold beer soon sat before me on the bar. I regarded it with anticipation, and relished the delicious liquid as it massaged my dry and thirsty gullet.

Der Barmann approached, and looked at me quizzically.

I asked “Darf ich ein mehr haben?”

“Nein,” he replied – “Ein stein ist genug.”

Macy's parade. Monstrous floats, intricate construction.

The float that had stopped before me had a flagpole at least 16 feet tall. A monkey dropped a ball from the top of the flagpole. In one second the ball reached the bottom of the pole.

Under the influence of gravity, the ball fell 16 feet in one second.

I hurried ahead to the next viewing station, and waited for that same float. As it rolled past at exactly fifteen mph, that same monkey dropped another ball. Exactly one second later the ball reached the bottom of the pole.

But during that second the float, the pole, and the ball had traveled twenty-two feet along Broadway. A line from the point of the ball's release -- at the top of the pole -- to its location when it reached the bottom of the pole can be visualized as the  hypotenuse of a right triangle.  The length of the vertical side is 16 feet. The horizontal side represents the twenty-two feet of travel by the float 

The calculated length of the hypotenuse of the triangle is approximately twenty-seven feet. Did the ball falll sixteen feet or twenty-seven feet?

Twenty-seven feet in one second? But it fell only sixteen feet when the float was stopped.

Was the force of gravity increased? Was space distorted? Was time altered?

Despite my Germanic heritage I cannot – will not – speculate on any explanation of this seeming discrepancy.

Heritable

The HEB store at 3133 S Alameda St, Corpus Christi, TX was where I first worked for wages. In 1952 I earned forty cents an hour for sacking groceries and carrying them out to customer's cars.

Working in that store at that time was a young man named Charley Butt.

He went on to a life of great success. I went on.

Charles Clarence Butt (born February 3, 1938) is an American heir and billionaire. He inherited his family's San Antonio–based H-E-B supermarket chain in 1971. The privately held company has more than 300 stores and $20 billion in sales, according to Forbes. Wiki

He got his father's genes.

I inherited my father's khakis.

Another Visitation

this post is intended as a continuation of the earlier post "Visionary" 

Another Night

This time my caller approached me more gingerly:

“After the way you reacted on my previous visit, I feel that I should ask you.”

“Are willing to participate?”

Having had several months to integrate the chilling realizations of his last session, I bravely thought to endeavor to persevere, to again experience the revelations of a superior intellect. I mumbled some sort of acceptance.

He smiled … “I thought that you would.”

As we assumed positions in the classroom – for what else could you call it? – I felt, for the first time, a chill.

Chill, Hell … I was cold!

Noting my discomfort my teacher – for that's how I regarded him – took from his shoulders a soft pure white serape. (At least that's what it would be called here in South Texas)

He gently draped it around my shoulders. I was surprised at the warmth it conveyed. Glad, too.

I inquired after his comfort: “How will you stay warm?”

He smiled. “I don't need it. I brought it for you.”

As I regarded my teacher I began to wonder about him. Brazenly, but politely I asked his name.

He took my left hand, and on the upturned palm he wrote:

  K-o-h-e-l-e-t-h.    

He smiled, and said "All is meaningless,"

“Let us get to it.”

He took from his pocket – the pocket on his robe could not have been more than about a foot deep – he took out a metal rod about six feet long, and maybe 1/4” in diameter.

Placing it in the emptiness before us, he gave it a gentle nudge. As it drifted away he turned to ask me whether I could recite Einstein's proclamation regarding the limiting velocity of light, and what occurred if an object – he gestured toward the drifting metal rod – were to be pushed beyond the limit.

I was tempted to suggest that an angel would write him a speeding ticket – but I exercised admirable restraint.

Instead I dutifully recited the mantra that at the limiting velociy threshhold, the putative increase in velocity would be converted to increased mass of the object.

He reached into his pocket – David Copperfield should have such a robe – and produced a steel ball an inch in diameter. Suspending it gently before us, he said “Now regard the velocity of that distant departing rod with respect to this stationary ball. What will occur as that velocity increases and approaches the speed of light?”

Eager to display my understanding of the relevant theorem I blurted “The rod will get heavier.”

“Precisely what you are expected to conclude. But you have been deceived.  Look to your right.”

Passing alongside I observed Tennessee Fried Chicken, Low's Home Depot, and Wellmart, (It seems the names vary slightly in some locations).

“Contrary to what you may have thought, that rod isn't traveling away. WE are in fact hastening in the oppposite direction. My challenge to you is to explain how an increase in OUR velocity can induce an increase in the mass of that rod, which is hanging motionless in this timeless void.”

Wouldn't you know it, my dream ended. Again I was startled to wakefullness by a troubling realization.

Damn it, if he comes back again I'm not gonna be at home !

Problems with German Metaphysics

 Problem with German Metaphysics

Ptolemy – a modern reference to Claudius Ptolemaeus, a 2nd century A.D. Alexandrian astronomer, brings to mind his tour de force in creating a believable – although very complex – mathematical solution to describe the movement of the planets around the earth, in the context of the then accepted belief that the earth was the center of the universe. From the perspective of the observer on the presumed stationary earth, the orbiting planets moved forward, then backwards – looping in their efforts to conform to the requirement to rotate around the earth.

Nicolaus Copernicus, in the 16th century, concluded that the planets (including the earth) orbited the sun – and that the earth rotated on its axis daily. For fear of the reaction to his heliocentric theory he chose to withhold his conclusions. Johannes Kepler, born about 30 years after Copernicus died, published this revolutionary concept.

Galileo Galilei faced house arrest – virtual banishment from society – for his heretical adherence to the heliocentric concept.

So society collectively demonstrated its willingness – no, eagerness – to accept the Ptolemaic abstraction as an explanation of natural phenomena, even though it was cumbersome. It seemed to work, and it fit into the accepted scheme of existence.

Fast forward a few years. A young German thinker devised his Theory of Special Relativity. And his method of proof was as abstruse in its time as was Ptolemy's in his era.

Yet it was accepted. For, just as in the case of the Alexandrian, there existed an intellectual vacuum – a hunger for understanding. And the willingness to grasp any solution that seemed to explain the mysteries of our existence led, as in the 2nd century, to the devoted adherence to a meaningless mind exercise, drivel which seemed to provide an answer.

Comments extracted from The Story of Philosophy by Will Durant: ⁱ

William James (1842 – 1910) was convinced that both the terms and the problems of German metaphysics were unreal. He abominated the obscurities and pedantic terminology of German metaphysics:

"... the height of audacity in serving up pure nonsense, in stringing together senseless and extravagant mazes of words, such as had previously been known only in madhouses, was finally reached ... and became the instrument of the most bare-faced general mystification that has ever taken place, with a result which will appear fatuous to posterity, and will remain as a monument to German stupidity.ⁱⁱ

Will Durant, in The Story of Philosophy suggests that as we consider the achievements of the great thinkers we may be "tempted to console ourselves by denouncing this philosophic geometry as an artificial chess-game of thought in which axioms, definitions, theorems and proofs are manipulated like kings and bishops, knights and pawns; a logical solitaire invented to solace ... loneliness." ⁱⁱⁱ

Amen

i The Story of Philosophy, ISBN 0-671-20159-X. Will Durant, James, p.383

ii op cit, footnote, p. 221; Hegél, by Edward Caird

iii op cit, p. 130

VISIONARY

 

Your young men will see visions. Your old men will dream dreams...

And so it was. I fell asleep, while watching a contentious debate on television:

Highly emotional support for the position that the speed of light is a limiting velocity -- nothing can travel faster. Equally adamant assertion that it is possible.

Nothing proved.

I was awakened by a man clothed in a flowing all white robe. Without speaking he took my arm, and led me out into the night. Waiting there was a shiny silver vessel, larger than my Chevrolet suburban.

A door opened, and we entered.

There was a momentary sensation of motion, then quiet.

What seemed to me just a few seconds, and the door again opened. We stepped out into – nothingness.

My guide spoke: “Be not afraid. Your safety is assured.”

“How am I able to breather?” I demanded.

He smiled. “Rest easy. It is provided.”

Something about his manner was reassuring. I made the almost unconscious decision to accept my circumstances without fear.

“I have brought you here to accomplish one thing: That you must be free of the constraints of the frame of reference of you earthly surroundings."

 "Observe: There, before you are three balls. You may regard them as similar to tennis balls, or the balls from the game you call Pool.”

“Their composition is irrelevant. Their size is as you choose to perceive. The arrangement is placement as if defining the points of an equilateral triangle. Note that there is no motion, either with respect to each other, or to you.'

He paused, to assess my understanding. Satisfied, he continued:

“By the power of your mind, you are to accelerate the leftmost ball to nine-tenths the speed of light, in an easterly direction. You are able to maintain awareness of its path and position.”

I nodded my assent and understanding.

“That ball, that you have directed, is moving at 0.9 times 186,00 miles per second away from its two erstwhile companions. I now tell you to accelerate the rightmost of the balls to half the speed of light, in a westerly direction. Exactly opposite the direction in which you dispatched the first ball.”

A pause. To observe my compliance.

“Now, tell me the velocity of the first ball in relation to the one remaining.”

“167,400 miles per second.”

“Exactly. And what is the velocity of the second ball in relation to the one remaining?”

“93,000 miles per second.”

“Right again. And with the understanding that velocity is RELATIVE, what is the velocity of the eastbound ball relative to the westbound ball?”

I awoke, sweating, although my room was cool. My consternation at having to confront the reality that there could exist a velocity IN EXCESS of the speed of light interrupted my dream, and plunged me into frustrated wakefulness …

Commentary:

I learned that a genius of years past had approached this problem and solved it by decree:

1. The speed of light is constant,

2. And if a object approached the speed of light, the energy that might propel it past the speed of light is converted to mass.

The German predilection for explaining the mysteries of the universe by elaborate constructions of fancy has been the subject of past commentary. Please refer to my essay Problems with German Metaphysics.odt for a summary of my arrogant refutation of German mythology.

Alone, and Fearless

 

Alone, Fearlessly Facing the Inevitable,

As I amble through the ninth decade of my convoluted life, I reminisce …

I reflect on my father’s usual comment, upon hearing my latest criticism of idiotic or oppressive edicts from government … “Abe, you’re tilting at windmills.”

My Quixotic efforts have through my life been limited to verbal discourse, or written dissertation such as a Letter to the Editor submitted to the local newspaper. Those letters which were published seemed always to draw angry response from readers with tender toes.
Yet do I continue. For me the challenge is irresistible. I must not ignore my perceived duty to refute the unreasonable, illogical position of a proponent of some ridiculous scheme to solve humanity’s problems with another government program.

A few years ago I discovered the Blogosphere. Here I entered a rich field of opportunity for my crotchety expression of irrelevant, self-centered ideas.
I devote much of my time and effort to blogging.

I humbly accept that my essays are devoid of substance, and that most of my family and few remaining friends are justified in their collective decisions to ignore my posts.

My freedom of self expression has a companion freedom — the delicious freedom from fear. I no longer fear my death, and in my solitude I have no need to fear the death of a beloved life companion.
My only fear centers on the possibility of being confined to a wheelchair — unspeaking, drooling, unable to communicate even my smallest wishes to uncaring attendants who manage various bodily needs.
Recent media coverage suggests that solitude in old age is responsible for depression, and may lead to suicide. Commentary encompasses the numberless accidental overdoses of narcotic pain pills, enhanced by the synergism of alcoholic beverage. One wonders if the victims were so drunk that they did not understand their circumstances. Hmmm?
I am happy, enthusiastically eager to continue doing what I enjoy, impatient to begin each new effort, and then joyous at the completion of one of my many projects.
I feel a strange smug contentment when I relax, in my recliner, in my apartment, in front of my TV, with the current book of my selection, with a tray of my own home-cooked meal, at the end of my day of proud accomplishment.
Not even remotely close to depression — An intense introspective analysis reveals that I am in better shape, emotionally and mentally, than I was throughout most of my life.
I look forward to another ten or fifteen years of a good life.

Nimrod

 

In his youth my father was a professional hunter. From the fields and forests of north Alabama he harvested quail and rabbits, to sell to shopkeepers in town.

He raised bird dogs for his quail hunting. He continued to hunt for recreation into his later years.

My heritage included hunting. Pop took me duck hunting in 1951. We went
on a deer hunt in 1971. I continued into the 1990's. My last hunt was
with my good friend Stan, in New Mexico in 1992.

Many good memories.

However …

And I defer to the psychologists who presume to have an explanation for everything … perhaps they are correct, in saying that it is a sense of mortality attendant to aging that brings this evolution …

I no longer have any desire to kill anything.

Life seems sacred. I even find myself apologizing to a spider as I kill it.

I note a news report of a hunter rejoicing in killing a deer with freakishly huge antlers – and I am saddened.

I think “Why couldn't he have allowed that splendid animal to live?“

         Wir werden zu früh alt und zu spät schlau.

20-20 Hindsight

 

Two incidents in the hunting field:

• I was hunting in New Mexico, at the base of Mangas Mountain. I was sitting in a position carefully selected for observation of any coyotes responding to my call. I had the wind in my favor. They would be coming down and out of the brushy draw, into the clear area just below me.

I worked the call with the expertise developed in years of experience calling coyotes in South Texas. I put the call in my pocket, and lifted the Browning .270 off my lap to allow me to shift my position — the hard ground was getting uncomfortable. A casual glance over my right shoulder revealed two coyotes gazing intently at me from ten feet away. Behind me. Where they had to have come the wrong way, up wind, across open ground, to approach me where I was sitting out in the open. I was grateful that they had not attacked me. So grateful that I allowed one of them to depart, unharmed.

• The other incident was while I was sitting, patiently watching a small pond high up on Luna Mountain, where we had found bear tracks in the soft mud around the water. Stan was similarly positioned about twenty yards to my right. I was fighting to avoid snoozing, when the report of Stan’s .25-06 woke me up. Wide awake, I stood up facing him. He pointed to the crumpled 150 pound bear lying on the ground 50 feet away. That gentle looking ball of fur had been bringing a mouth full of teeth, and four paws with 20 claws right up to my backside.

Mixed feelings, defined: Stan shot MY bear — just before it licked me in the ear.

And an incident in the city:

Working narcotics while I was a deputy sheriff entailed a lot of sitting in my car, watching locations where drug transactions were made.

I felt rather foolish — embarrassed, actually — when a dealer crept up from behind me and appeared suddenly at the window of my car.

No real harm done — he just looked into my eyes, and turned and walked away. He’d made his point — I’d have to try another day, to get anything on him.

The takeaway from these incidents is this: there is a need for a device that monitors my six, to notify me when anyone — man or beast — approaches from the rear.

Cause and Effect

 

How problematic it is ... assigning effect to a cause!

Let us observe the existence of three circumstances: A, B, and C.

An astute observer may consider, and conclude that C exists as a result of the causal factor B.

For example, as in the recent media reports, men who don’t eat breakfast have a 27% higher risk of heart attacks.

Cause. No breakfast = B.

And effect. Increased risk of heart attack = C.

But is B a causal factor, or an effect?

Easy to overlook is the possibility that not eating breakfast may be a consequence of the habit of eating a large meal late in the day – which causes not only the aversion for an early meal the following day, but also an increased risk of heart attack.

Cause. Large, late meal = A

Effect. Aversion for breakfast = B.

Effect. Increased risk of heart attack = C.

We grow too soon old, and too late smart.