Bellum Omnium Contra Omnes, or - The Life of a Coleoidean

Beginning from a mechanistic understanding of Teuthidan beings and the passions, one may postulate, Hobbes-like what life would be deep in the ocean, a condition which we might call "the state of saline-aquatic nature." In that state, each Decapodiform would have a right, or license, to everything in the ocean.

In such condition, there is no place for industry; because the fruit thereof is uncertain: and consequently no culture of the ocean; only navigation, but no use, other than the immediately culinary for the commodities that may be comported by sea; no commodious building, save coral reefs; no non-tentacular instruments of moving, and removing, such things as require much force; no knowledge of the face of the earth beyond the edges of the sea; no account of time in the dark depths; no arts; no letters; no society; and which is worst of all, continual fear, and danger of violent death; and the life of squids, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.

References.

Ref 1

Ref 2

Tebow, Part 2

The NFL, in many and varied ways, is a cruel place to try to make a living.  Every Sunday, as you struggle to do your job, there are 11 other guys out there, and there job is to make you fail*.  Not only that, but they are among the very best in the world at their job - which, once again, is making you fail at yours.

In this context, the Quarterback is the center of attention.  Spectators, commentators, opposing linemen and blitzing safeties all have him in the cross hairs.  Rookie quarterbacks are especially vulnerable, not having the knowledge and experience to comfortably handle their offensive systems or read and react to pro-level defensive schemes, nor having complete mastery of the pro quarterback's skill set.

A few notably exceptional quarterbacks have achieved a high level of success in their rookie years, and gone on to stardom -  Dan Marino, John Elway, and Jim Kelly are the classic examples.  Others like Troy Aikman, Drew Bledsoe, and even Payton Manning had rough starts, but went on to achieve stardom.  Mediocre to poor careers, like those experienced by Charlie Batch, Brady Quinn and Kyle Orton are more common.

This year, there are a few rookie QB's who could be standouts: Cam Newton, Andy Dalton and Christian Ponder.  Notably absent from this list, though, is Tim Tebow.  His peformance against the Lions on Sunday was dismal.  The previous week against the vastly inferior Dolphins, he was mostly inept, but had a strong finish and managed to pull out an 18-15 victory in O/T.

Tebow is an earnest Young man.  There is no doubting his sincerity, effort, or character.  What is highly questionable, though, is his ability.  He only has a few starts, so the data set is small, and you need to be cautious about drawing broad conclusions.  The cause for worry, though, is his lack of improvement.  You have to believe (or at least hope) that the Broncos coaching staff is competent and has been working very hard to help him develop; so his story shouldn't turn into one like Joey Herrington's or Tim Couch's .  As yet, though, this has been to no avail.  The Lions defense totally undressed him.

It's still a bit early to draw the curtain on Tebow's pro football career.  But unless he starts improving quickly and dramatically, future comparisons will be to David Klingler, not Drew Breese.

H/T to LGM.
____________________________
The NFL is an extremely Republican-type organization.  This is one of the less important reasons why.

So Why Are the Tigers in Game 5?

The two victories are by scores of 5-3 and 5-4; the losses by scores of 9-3 and 10-1, so you might think I'm asking that question the wrong way around.  But, really this has at least as much to do with Tiger failures as with Yankee success.  First notable item is their inability to hit the eminently hittable A.J. Burnett.  Sure Curtis Granderson saved his bacon a couple of times, but that accounts for only two outs in a 9 inning game.

Here's the story.  It's sad.  The players who are supposed to provide the offensive punch haven't done it.



The midline players have done about as you might expect.

Those part-time playing Twinkiesque back-of-the-roster guys have mostly overachieved, but they can't carry the team.

Note that Santiago's RBI count is only one behind Cabrera's.  Ramon knocked Inge in twice in game 3, else there would be no game 5.

I'm not going to post stats for the hated Yankees.  But I will note most of their guys are doing what is expected - except for Jorge Posada, who was on the bubble for making the post-season roster.   He's hitting .400, has 4 walks to go with his 4 hits, and has scored 4 times.

We shouldn't have to rely on Delmon Young hitting the occasional HR.  For the Tigers to win tonight, Cabrera has to put on his MVP shoes, and Martinez, Jackson and Avila need to show up with bats in their hands.  And Fister has to be Fister, not that imposter we saw on Saturday.

According to The Detroit Sports Site, Mags is in Right tonight, and Don Kelly will start at 3rd Base.  Betamit has worked himself out of the line up.  Kelly would be 4 for 7, but one of Granderson's Burnett-bacon-savers came from Kelly's bat.
.

Sunday Music Blogging - 2/13

BT posted Steve Earle's "Rich Man's War" which prompted this mini-rant from me.

Steve hits it out of the park with the very first sentence.

Rich men love high unemployment for a variety of reasons - this is only one of them.

I've come to believe that the moneyed elite always and everywhere seeks to reduce the rest of the population to the subsistence level - whether by serfdom, slavery, share cropping, the company sto'e, or simple elimination of economic opportunity, as we are experiencing now. And they want every god-damned penny you have, too - hence the attacks on and lies about social security - an issue I've blogged about recently.

The company Sto'e:

.

Bowl Game Theology

My theory that the twin humiliating losses suffered by Michigan and Michigan State in their respective bowl games was the almighty sky-deity punishing us for electing a Republican governor was put to a severe test in last night's Sugar Bowl.  (OK - if you contend that U of M has no business even being in a bowl game, you'll get no argument from me, but -- that State game -- OUCH!)

You see, Ohio also voted in a new Republican governor.  And not just any old Rethug - this is former congressman John Kasich, who spent his years nominally outside of government as a Faux Noise commentator, and from 2001-2008 was "employed by Lehman Brothers, the investment firm whose collapse precipitated the financial system collapse of 2008."   The exploits of job-exporting Rick Snyder pale in comparison.

You'd think that if anything deserves a 52-14 smack-down at the cloven hooves of an SEC opponent, this would be it.   But in the end the Buckeyes managed to cling to a razor(back) thin 31-26 victory.


In attempting to rationalize this outcome, I've come up with two not-mutually-exclusive theories.

1)  The sequence of early success and later dismay, followed by something close to despair and then near-cardiac arrest, watching the Razorbacks bore their way out of a 28-7 trough; coupled with the knowledge that 4 offensive stars plus the unlikely last-minute defensive hero of last night's game face suspension for committing the crime of free-market capitalism was punishment enough.   (Lesson: either graduate or lose academic eligibility first, sell the gold pants later.)

2)  This one to me is more convincing.  Consider the nature of the Arkansas loss - falling less than a touchdown short after a courageous second-half regrouping, with the prospect of a heroic come-from-behind victory tantalizingly dangled before their collective snout, then snatched away Lucy-like as they ultimately fell on their (razor)backs to defeat and disappointment.  

How can this be?  Not only did Ohio elect a particularly vile and heinous Rethug, Arkansas retained its incumbent Democratic Governor, Mike Beebe.  OTOH, they did split the ticket by electing Rethug Mark Darr as lieutenant governor.  But that can't possibly be enough.

Something must be truly rotten in the State of Arkansas to have pissed god off to this extent.  Could it be general corruption,  small town corruption,  police corruption, or public corruption?

We'll probably never know for sure.  The Lord moves in mysterious ways.  Not only did he allow the slaughter of the Arkansas hog, he's klling their birds and fish.
 .

An Epitath for America

Over at MB, Karl speculates on why America is great, and basically gets handed his head in comments.
 
Bad Tux points out that the U.S. is now the economic equivalent of Mexico.

I made essentially the same comment in both places.  Economic disparity and a deterioration of equal protection under the law are moving us toward plutocracy.   I forgot to mention that our most recent former president is an admitted war criminal.

Sunday Music Blogging - 5/16

We lost Lena Horne this week, at age 92.  She was a national treasure.

Here is her song.  They made each other famous.



And here, at no extra charge, is a bonus. 'Cuz, you can't ever have enough Muppets.

Haiku Wednesday

Connection

I see in the crowd

A woman now who once was

The girl that I loved

At our concert Monday evening I looked into the audience and spotted my lovely wife.

For an instant I saw, not a woman on the cusp of collecting Social Security, but the 15-year-old girl I fell in love with so many years ago.

What the Hell?!? Friday -- Of Boys and Hygiene

An off-line (well, on-line, actually?!?) conversation with Cate (you can call her Cate) of SWS fame got me thinking about my long-ago experience as a Webelos leader.  This started when my son was eight, and joined the Cub Scouts.  I helped coach softball, which is a hoot, 'cause I'm less athletic than the average trombonist.  But, I also became the Webelos leader, since the Pack needed one (and it's easy to talk me into things) with a meeting at my house on Wednesday evenings.  This went on for four years - my house infested with invaded by 11-year-old boys, until my son passed through Webelos, and we moved on to Boy Scouts.

As a result of this ordeal  experience, I know a lot about 11-year-old boys.  The path from cute little baby boy to grown man is long, twisting, and full of pot holes.  One of the deepest and muddiest of these is age 11.  A typical 11-year-old boy is only marginally human, and not at all civilized.   In the absence of diligent parental supervision, he will happily spend that entire year in a cave with a colony of toads, never brushing his teeth, combing his hair, taking a bath, or changing his socks.   I have a clear recollection from my own checkered youth of being sent to wash my hands before dinner one day.  They were literally covered in dirt on all sides.  I carefully washed the palms of my hands, since those are the parts you use to hold the bread and utensils.  I was really quite exasperated with my father when he sent me back with explicit instructions to wash all surfaces of both hands.

I genuinely didn't get it.

This 11-itis-hood is a wonderful, primal, enigmatically feral time of life, if you can avoid major infections.  But, alas, all good things must end.  For many boys, this primitive, idyllic quasi-nirvana pops with the suddenness of a lightning-strike, on the day that they discover GIRLS.  The transformation is a wonder to behold.

It goes more or less like this, usually some time between ages 12 and 30:

Tuesday evening: GIRLS discovered.  In this epiphany, they are revealed as something not yuckie and disgusting, to be avoided at all costs. Frex:
They smell good.
They look . . . interesting.
Their voices - what is it about their voices?
They're -- soft.   Well, probably, I imagine, don't ya think?
When did THEY change?

Wednesday morning (after a night of disturbing, incomprehensible dreams):
Bath taken, hair combed, teeth brushed, fresh underwear and socks donned.
Mirror looked into, for maybe the first time ever.

Several days later: Question pondered:
"Is it worth the trouble of shining my shoes?"
The first of many moral dilemmas.

The actual timing of this metamorphosis is deeply personal.  Possible spectrum runs from as early as eight (very rare) to never. (Unfortunately, not so rare.)

And, as Howard Hughes so capably demonstrated, considerable backsliding is possible at any later phase of life.  This may be why wives are important.

A note on Fate:
Early bloomers can become metrosexuals
Late bloomers can become math or science teachers.

Some are immune.  For the most part, they become chemists and/or engineers.

.

WTH? Friday - Somber Edition

Today, I went to the funeral of one of my work colleagues - a guy I knew casually, for many years.  He died after a long illness - more than a decade of fighting cancers that eventually ravished his body beyond all hope of recovery or survival.  Over the last decade, the doctors had said it was the end on at least three separate occasions.

Be he was a man of tenacity, great inner strength, and a great love for life.  I knew him as an excellent engineer, and a fine person of impeccable integrity. Others who knew him better told me of his sly wit and subtle sense of humor.  I wish I had known him better, too.

He was 39 years old, and leaves behind a wife and two young sons - preschool young. 

His was a short life, and difficult; but, I suspect, one of love and great fullness.

I think his advice to us would be to love life, and cherish love.

R.I.P. friend.  You will be missed by many.

Are We On the Right Track? Taking Stock

Here is a follow-up to the previous post, in which I hinted at this hypothesis: the common perception of "are we on the right track" is largely determined by the state of the economy.  Using the level of the stock market as a proxy for the state of the economy, let's explore this hypothesis.  The blue line on the chart shows the percentage of survey respondents who think the country is on the right track.  The green line is the year over year (YoY) percentage gain/loss of the S&P 500, based on the average value for the years in question.  For graphing purposes that value is used for any date during the year.  This is a pretty coarse cut, and quite simplistic.  On the other hand, surveys were taken at irregular intervals, and often present a range of values within any given year.

Despite all this, in broad brush terms, there is a similarity in the general shape of the curves - with one striking exception.  The stock market crash of 2001-2 is not reflected in the survey results.  In addition, there is a large data gap, as there are no survey results given for any time in the years 2000 and 2001.  Don't ask me why.



How can we explain this anomoly?  Here are some guesses.

Since data is missing for three full years between the data points at 2/14/99 and 2/21/02 there could have been a temporary drop that is simply missed.


By 2/21/02 the Bush adminstration was deep into sabre rattling, and that always makes people feel like something worth while is happening.  The spike up at 4/30/03 corresponds to the Iraq invasion.

W's folksy, down-home charm might have been comforting in what was a difficult time.

W's stubborn aggressivness was temporarily mistaken for strong leadership.

At any rate, by the end of W's second term, the perception of being on the right track followed W's approval ratings to previously unheard of lows, while the stock market crashed just in time for the election.  As a nation, we are eager to go to war, but tire of it when it looks futile and endless.

Obama's election brought new hope, and a coincident rise in the stock market.  Can either one last?   I, for one, am not optimistic.

What the Hell?!? Friday

Even after the Cheney-Bush administration was appointed our overlords, protectors, and deciders by judicial over reach in 2000, I was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt.  But after Bush's 7 minutes of catatonia on 9/11, the resulting lie-based decision to wage an unjust and unjustifiable war against an uninvolved country, the unsuccessful attack on Social Security, etc., I gradually came to the realization that when thinking about them it was virtually impossible for a reasonable person to be cynical enough.

Here are some more impossibilities.  It is impossible to overstate:

The sheer terrible awfulness of yesterday's Supreme Court decision.

The destructive effect it will have on the tattered remains of our shattered democracy.

The degree to which international corporate interests already dominate both political parties.

How much people who call themselves "conservative" hate democracy, the Constitution, and what the U.S. is supposed to stand for.

The extent to which the Republican Party is dedicated, as Rich Limplow demanded, to making Obama fail - no matter what the consequences are for the country.

The contempt of the religious right for the separation of church and state.

The stupidity of that subsection of the Massachusetts electorate who voted for Obama in '08 and Scott Brown this week.

The insanity of teabaggers, birtherers, 12ers, and their ilk.

How far we have devolved toward fascism.

How thoroughly we now are screwed.

Did I miss anything?

Wednesday Poetry Blogging

SWEET MYSTERY

Where does love come from?
Are you inspired by a face,
A line curved or straight,
The sound of a laugh,
Or a sob,
The color of eyes?

What is the source of heat?
Is it the friction of skin,
The brush of a lip or finger,
Or a touch,
In a secret place?

What happens when souls meet?
Do they reach beyond space and time
In a spiral of yin and yang,
Chasing destiny,
The filling of voids?

What does your love mean to me?
Am I eased by your presence,
warmed by your smile,
Completed only
When our souls touch?

.

Wednesday Poetry Blogging

Today, A real-life incident.

A non-fruit-bearing Bradford Pear tree in our front yard split and fell in the wind overnight, Friday to Saturday.  We discovered this trick on Hallowe'en morning.

       My Erstwhile Tree

I never thought that I would see
The fracture of my lovely tree.

A tree that stood with rigid will
Against the side of my front hill.

A tree whose leaves were late to stay
Until a frozen winter day.

A tree whose slant was cause for dread,
Whose leafy arms were too wide spread.

But now whose shape is just half-round
As once high branches touch the ground.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But a mighty wind unmade my tree.

Wednesday Poetry Blogging

After last week's frivolity, we are now back to the serious business of life. There is no life without pain. Here is a sample

Thinking About One I Don't Think About

My wife went to a funeral today,
Was introduced as another man's first wife --
Such an awkward thing to say, though true.
In grief he refused to speak to her.
So sorry, but that made me think of you.

There was a time we thought we were in love,
Or at least went through the push and pull,
Doing the things that married people do --
Although, not always, as I was to learn,
With the one that you are married to.

But it worked in a way -- there's evidence.
And for a while our lives were interleaved,
Until the job we had to do was through.
And we moved on. Excuse my wondering, but . . .
When someone dies do you think of me, too?

Copyright Jazzbumpa. All rights reserved,

Wednesday Poetry Blogging

In the press of other things, I missed posting a poem last Wednesday. Such is life, and fate. Today's entry deals with these kinds of ideas. I'll admit I'm a romantic: I believe in true love,and happily ever after.

But . . .

When love and fate mesh, it is a wondrous thing. But so much can go wrong, even if we are careful. Here is a wistful look at love, destiny, and the vagaries of fate.

THE SUBSTITUTE

There are those whose lives are meant to be entwined,
Lovers thrust together by the force of destiny,
When choice and fate converge, that they may be
Connected at the soul, the heart, the mind.

Within their closed circumference one can find
Two curves in perfect fit -- his yang, her yin,
That in each cycle once again begin
To cluster into love's sweet spiral bind.

But consider -- if in the vast span of infinity
One of them becomes displaced in small degree;
Is born a decade late, perhaps is sent
To the farthest corner of the continent --

The distant echo of an unfelt touch, an unseen face.
Who will be the one who comes to take his place?

Copyright JazzBumpa. All rights reserved.