Tagged: life

One Macro-Scale Reason Charlie Kirk Was Killed

Check this paragraph out. It is from Robert Shaplen’s New Yorker article “Life in Saigon: Spring 1972 We Have Always Survived”, April 15, 1972.

There is no need to complete the paragraph. You get the point.

This was 1972. This was the behavior of the “good guys”. This was conducted in essentially a third world, war torn country, without computers.

I don’t know about you, but I am astounded by the (new to me) information therein.

So I want to ask you: What do you want, my fellow Americans? Do you want to continue to feign outrage at the Left and its lunatic adherents and make wild claims about a coming civil war? Do you want to teach each other that there must be a response, even if it is simply at the polls? Do you want to appear totally shocked by the fact that someone who wasn’t a threat to anyone was assassinated? Do you want to task Tan’s special police to find the next lunatics?

What do you want?

I’ll tell you what I want. I want to be left alone. I want to have a private life. I want my thoughts about, my opinions about, and mostly my actions while living life on this third rock from the materials fusion process we call “the sun” to be officially unknown to any government entity.

Will you give me what I want?

Because of my desire for privacy, I am not particularly concerned about the Left and their lunatic adherents. Because of my desire for privacy, I am not particularly interested in pontificating about the meaning of assassinations. And I am not particularly surprised that harmless people are murdered.

In place of these concerns, I am particularly concerned that my kids grow up understanding that while there might be a way of life which tries to prevent assassinations (or keep the peace in general), that way will never be the way to live life. Practically, then, this means that I spend time preparing to teach them the history of the Vietnam War. Will you join me?

The Infrequently Discussed, But True (If Mean-Sounding), Reason For Some Blacks’ Inability to Understand the Context of Kirk’s “[Black Women] Do Not Have the Brain Processing Power” Claim

Faithful readers know (and should be able to predict) what this post is going to assert. To them, I say, “Thank you for paying attention.”

To the rest of you, please pay close attention.

We’re all watching with amazement as Black preachers lead the way in calling Charlie Kirk a racist. The particular phrase these men use to defend their claim is in my title.

Now, every good little literate “whitey” knows how to call up the full conversation/debate from which the phrase came and determine for themselves the context within which Kirk uttered his assessment. That’s step 1.

Step 2 for those of us who were pretty sure Kirk was not a racist, but have been wrong before and so wanted to check for ourselves, is felt utter confusion (not me, mind you) at how even our “black friends” are siding with these ignorant preachers instead of the plain meaning of the English language.

Here’s what is going on. There is no need to be confused.

Bluntly: Some Blacks (maybe most) still believe in incantation. Incantation, recall, is context free.

To flesh this out a bit, let’s review what incantation is all about. In short, the phrase “abra cadabra” (that we all know from some Disney movie we all watched years ago) is a phrase that we, as children, used to magically turn objects into other objects. Or the like. For us, it was a game. We usually had a wand or our finger cocked in a special way as we said it. “Abra cadabra, and POOF!, you’re unfrozen.” Sometimes it was in finding oneself holding what appeared as a wand which caused our utterance of the phrase. Like we’re in a gift shop, see a stick with a star at one end and suddenly are inspired to grab it and tap our unwitting friend on the head and say, “Abra Cadabra, you pay for Starbucks after we’re done here.”

What were we doing? We were playfully using what people in antiquity seriously used, that is, we were incanting. Even as children we knew it wasn’t merely the phrase but the specific sounds, the way we said the phrase, that mattered. In fact, this feature of incantation often explained why the change didn’t happen. “You didn’t say it right!” we would explain. Again, as children, we knew that you couldn’t achieve the intended result by an all business-like or all medical-assessment-like utterance of the phrase. No. It had to be said a certain way. Plainly, it had to be uttered intoned with belief.

The point here is that we (the confused, literate whites) don’t believe incantation works now that we’re adults.

But many Blacks, of all ages, do.

And that is how even your “black friends” do not budge when they are shown the full context of Kirk’s remarks.

For many Blacks, there is a distinct evil associated with such a phrase (“black women do not have the brain processing power”). The context doesn’t matter any more than it does for abra cadabra.

By way of another example, Shakespeare’s “Double, Double Toil and Trouble” comes to mind as something similar in Western culture. Did the witches’ prophecy actually cause MacBeth’s troubles? No. Now, it’s true that there was a coincidence, but this is merely a cerebrally fun feature of great storytelling. On the whole, though, while we servants of the West would never think twice about saying, “Double, Double, Toil and Trouble”, our Black neighbors (keep in mind they also don’t know Shakespeare—and this is not coincidence) believe there are certain things you just don’t say. Again, this is not because of the meaning’s of the words, it is because of an exceedingly old school (Old Testament and older) belief in how human speech works vis-à-vis the invisible world.

Please don’t let the NSFW part of my claim cause you to miss the actual significance of my claim. You are now no longer confused why many Blacks don’t care about context. But this clarity does not reveal the solution to the larger problem that still remains: Many Blacks don’t care about context.

What can be done?

I have no idea.

Let’s Chat About Power

X is filled with conspiracy theory lunatics. I didn’t realize how bad it (X) was until I recently got an account. The feeling I have while surfing it has been odd. I tell myself, “I just want to see what people are saying,” as if I was a social researcher. But I am not conducting research, there are no projects, no boundaries, and no method. It’s the complete opposite of social research—gossip.

Anyhow, one of the threads which I hate to share, but feel compelled to for illustrative purposes, is the claim that Israel somehow had a hand in the assassination. The clip often accompanying this claim is one where Kirk is on PBD podcast and uses the phrase “ethnic cleansing” to describe Israel’s goal in Gaza.

Does everyone remember the scene in Dark Knight where Morgan Freeman recounts the blackmail proposal to the accountant? Yeah, same thing here.

So let me get this straight. People want me to think that Podcaster/Conversant/“You Should Vote”-advocate extraordinaire Kirk has some opinion about how Israel’s government—the real one, not podcasters—has a plan to kill millions of people and yet this government is afraid of one person? By my thinking, if Kirk’s analysis was correct, then Israel’s government isn’t afraid of anyone or anything, including their own god.

In short, the sobering truth is Kirk (and his claims) threatened no one.

Two Updates on the Boy Child

First, during my attempt to get more of the cookie for myself, when I told him that the cookie was very big, J- innocently said, “My mouth is big!”

Second, we have this game Poop Tracks which is actually a pretty fantastic board game for little kids (if you care to have them turn into Tom Brown Jr.-like trackers). You spin a spinner and do what it says. The options are, “Draw 1 (or 2), Trade, Swipe, or Skip.” Naturally, I take it upon myself to teach my progeny the proper way to trade and swipe. And, naturally, the proper way to swipe is through distraction. So my kids now look forward to the spinner landing on “swipe” so they can say, “Look at that, Dad!” before proceeding to take one if my cards. Well, just now, as J- and I (A- is now in kindergarten 😦 ) were having a donut, he says, “Look out the window, Day-ad!” Obviously he was priming me for the take, but for what? I played along and then he swiped my napkin. What a guy!

Attention School Teachers and Administrators: The Emails Have To Stop

For fun, this week I copied the text from all school emails over to a MSWord doc in order to learn a word count. (I have two kids in this school. H- is elsewhere and I did not add that school’s emails. I didn’t want to come across as extreme. Time will tell.)

The total—not including a PDF attachment late entry of today—was 1410 words.

For reference, Cat in the Hat is 1600ish and One Fish Two Fish… is 1300ish.

Depending on your speed of reading aloud, those books take somewhere over 10 minutes, but shy of 15 for sure. In your head, maybe 5 minutes.

What were the emails about?

  1. The need to comply with unnecessarily dynamic drop-off and pick-up procedures.
  2. Visit to nurse for complaint of splinter.
  3. Homework completion is required.
  4. A case of head lice was discovered.

29 words. 5.2 seconds. And I wasn’t trying. Trying would be:

  1. Don’t be a knucklehead in the car line.
  2. N/A
  3. N/A
  4. Check your kid for head lice.

14 words. 1.7 seconds.

Please keep in mind none of our parents ever communicated with the school while we were in school. Parents, in the 80s-90s (and I’m sure many ignore everything today), could literally never talk to anyone at school, not just for one week, but for the entire year. And the school didn’t care. And the parents didn’t care.

The emails have to stop.

I am happy to report that in recent reading about Vietnam, I came across the best concluding anecdote I could ever imagine.

From a 1971 NYT article regarding border crossing operations in Laos:

“The sign ‘Warning! No U.S. Personnel Beyond This Point’…On the back, facing Laos, is a faintly scrawled message to the North Vietnamese Army: ‘Warning! No N.V.A. Beyond This Point.’”

In short, there are limitations to what the written word can accomplish. One would like to think the educators would understand this best of all.

Pilots—Hope Embodied

I’m at work today and was chatting with the mechanic. It got me thinking.

Man, this job sure requires me to place a lot of trust in other people.

This led to me wondering What makes someone want to be an aircraft mechanic?

This led to I sure hope the answer is ‘not being as brave or good-looking’ as pilots.

But I backed off that and landed on Flying the aircraft requires more trust in other people than mechanics usually possess.

There are surely other measures of trust or, more broadly, hope. But what I mean to call attention to is the why behind the quality of the trait that pilots necessarily possess.

Once considered, I say one must conclude that it isn’t merely the mode of travel, but the fact of travel that betrays the pilot’s special embodiment of hope. From the functioning of the aircraft, to the people at the (planned or unplanned) destination not killing you upon arrival, the pilot embodies hope.

From another angle, consider that Mark Twain said, “Travel is fatal to prejuidce, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts.”

That’s got all the right words, but it’s backwards. From where I sit, “Prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness are fatal to travel.”

But, of course, by travel I mean more than the movement of the body from one location to another. I count as travel learning—even via books. I count attending different cultures’ events (ie, Chinamen moving to Chinatown is not travel, but one religious Chinaman’s visiting of a different religion’s Chinaman family—all who live in the same apartment building is) as travel. There are probably other meanings I would count.

Or not.

So I only mean three things count as travel. (1) travel, (2) learning, and (3) dually (i) meeting people who look identical to yourself but are, in fact, not you and (ii) meeting people who look nothing like you and finding out they are, in fact, your identical twin. And the connection which binds these three is not travel, but hope.

Do you see?

A Lesson that Requires Pocket Change

My friend, an older, heavyset gentlemen, keeps his story going with, “It’s about listening. You gotta teach the kids how to listen.”

Here he pauses and apologizes as he needs a break. He often needs to take a break, but doesn’t seem too concerned with the underlying medical condition.

The cloudiness disappears and he resumes.

“I teach my grandkids how to listen by placing a penny on the palm of my hand right here-” here he holds out his left hand, palm facing me, and points to the spot where I have always assumed street magicians palm the coin.

He continues, “Then I place a nickel next to it and a quarter next to the nickel. Then I tell the kids, ‘Johnny’s mom had three kids. Penny, Nick, and ??’”

The man turns to me, and I open my eyes larger than normal, while raising my eyebrows. I mean to merely indicate that I am not ready for an interactive moment, but I also admit that I don’t yet understand anything from this listening lesson.

“It requires the coins. Who has some coins?”

I follow him to the table where some other men are sitting and my friend asks the leader and most responsible of us, “Jim, do you have any coins? I need a penny, a nickel and a quarter.”

Surprisingly, and as predicted, Jim pulls a 1986-sized fistful of pocket change out of his shorts’ pocket and finds the required coinage.

My friend then places the coins in his palm, penny, nickel, quarter. Jim is paying attention, but the previous conversation he was apart of continues to unfold as well.

“Johnny’s mom had three kids. Penny, Nick, and ??”

Wishing to show my language prowess, I forget about the spelling of ‘quarter’ and begin to contemplate every name that starts with the ‘kwart’ sound.

“Kwart? Kurt?” I guess.

Shaking his head in shame, my friend repeats, “Johnny’s-”

“JOHNNY!” I exclaim, joyfully. “Johnny,” I then repeat, with a pronounced note and loud look of playful disgust.

Jim knowingly smiles.

My friend says to him, “You’ve heard this one before, huh?”

A slow nod from Jim answers.

“You see, Pete, someone has to teach them how to listen.”

****

Here’s the catch, faithful reader. Anyone who gets the right answer already knows how to listen. The all important and usually lacking skill in the human, imho, that my friend taught his grandkids (and I) is humility.

One Friday Lunch Thought

Did anyone else notice how fast Crumbl pivoted? They storm into the nicest parts of town (or sides of the street) with some of the best cookies ever—but it turns out you have to take a lunch break while eating them. So now they have mini-cookies.

And these are cookie-sized.

New questions which are fascinating to consider include:

  1. How did they not know about the size issue?
  2. Did they have any data that suggested they would have been unsuccessful starting with normal size cookie?
  3. Would they change their initial strategy if they had to do it all over again?

Whatever the answers, I need to say: “Please don’t ever pivot on flavor! They’re wonderful!”

When I Think Of Russia and Ukraine, I Think of My Mom

My brother “blocked” me over a year ago. When there are in-person events we are cordial, and even able to have conversations. But he won’t accept texts or calls.

Naturally, he still chats with our mom.

Naturally, I still chat with our mom.

But my mom will not play the middle man. She has never had interest in playing the middle man—between anyone. That is just her prerogative.

This is why I think of my mom, when I think of Russia and Ukraine.

America (meaning “Americans”) does not want to play the middle man. I believe this is the fullest truth that can be asserted regarding the situation.

The Answer to, “What ‘Gender’ means?” A Question Posed by My PhD Candidate Friend

For posterity.

I have to tell a story because I cannot see how the plain didactic situation will help given that you haven’t seen it yet. 

I had a friend who was a math professor and he was adamant about Free Market economics. Once he gave me a link to his “behind paywall”guru—a link to one of those YouTube clips that can only be viewed if you have the link, which follows the overall belief he held that humans should pay for valuable things/ideas. 

In the clip, the guru/astrophysicist-teacher-dude said, “Every word should have one and only one meaning.” That caught my attention because it is so asinine. The idea that words should be like numbers or math symbols is just ludicrous. To set that as a goal is ludicrous. Immediately questions like, “Which language would these ‘one meaning only’ words be in?” came to mind.

With me?

This relates to gender because language is where gender starts. There are languages (Hebrew and Greek among myriad others) which, when spoken, seem to add or subtract little suffix sounds (like ee or ish) to what we would call pretty much any non-verbs—so nouns, adjectives, prepositions etc. If I were to do this in English, it might sound like, “Hey, Matt! Throw her the ball-ee. And then, Jill, throw Matt the ball. Then, Matt, when you get the ball back, see those girls over there? Throw the ball-eeish to them.” (In this example, ee is female and ish is plural).

Why did these sounds develop? Who knows.

But anyone, including you, who would have been looking at or listening to the language(s) would be inclined to recognize (or be taught) that the “ball” part of the sound is the same concrete item and word, but the suffix sound (or lack thereof) changes depending on whether a female is involved. 

The catch, of course, is that the method isn’t 1-to-1; in other words, there are exceptions to the rule. But the rule still comes to our minds. So words (aloud and written—many of earliest languages were merely copying the sounds, no such thing as proper spelling existed) became known as the idea…drumrollGENDER!!

What should humans have done? Is the idea/object behind the word “ball” and “ball-ee” the same thing? Or not? I suppose you could argue that they are two different things. But that seems overly complex. In the end, there is one ball. But for some reason, when it is thrown to a human with boobs and a va-jay-jay, it is called “ball-ee” (in my example).

Next, fast forward through history until the last century and (I am very earnest and serious here; I have come across other folks who admit the following too) we come to the point where this concept of math symbols (think x and y and π), with their one and only one meaning, are thought of as superior to all the often unclear complications of ordinary language. In short, instead of written language copying sounds, people wanted language to represent ideas and with exactness. 

HERE IS THE JUMP/CONNECTION: One day someone suggests the idea that biological sex (penis vs vagina) is irrelevant. But they immediately confuse everyone listening because the honest response is, “How can I not be a woman/man?” So these people borrow the grammar category (abstract label) “gender” and apply it to their (NEW) idea. (The idea being that the concrete reality of your biological sex is ultimately irrelevant.) 

I offer for your consideration, that even you, friend, must be able to use the word gender when you communicate, both to show you understand grammar, AND to show you understand what time you are living in. There is an idea, however incorrect, called gender now. This is no different than, say, how the ideas psychology and communism are relatively new to the passing scene.

Put in dictionary style, gender (in the context of “ethnicity, class, and gender”) is the IDEA that biological sex is ultimately irrelevant.