Friday, September 21, 2007

Bertrand Russell Excerpt

I just got my copy of the internationalist/globalist (Lord and Fellow of the Royal Society, among many other things.) Bertrand Russell's The Impact of Science on Society (1953, in excellent condition--one thing that was very cool was that the book still had the original receipt lying in the pages. It cost $1.04.). Since ridding our backs of the television monkey a great majority of my time, naturally, is spent reading.

So, I thought I'd begin sharing bits and pieces (and perhaps some accompanying thoughts) as I seem to be unable to blog effectively about the usual inane shit. Every time I try, all I can think about is how the time would be better spent. Thoughts that are only natural, I suppose, after realizing that you've spent much or all of your life wasting time and being compelled from all sides to engage in more of the same.

Within this large majority of time newly spent, I've been dwelling a great deal on this child that draws ever closer and the attendant slew of questions to be pondered and decisions to be made. It is perpetually sobering.

Here is the excerpt that caught my eye a few nights ago, in Chapter 1, Effects of Scientific Technique (all emphasis mine)--

"Physiology and psychology afford fields for scientific technique which still await development. Two great men, Pavlov and Freud, have laid the foundation. I do not accept the view that they are in any essential conflict, but what structure will be built on their foundation is still in doubt.

I think the subject which will be of most importance politically is mass psychology. Mass psychology is, scientifically speaking, not a very advanced study, and so far its professors have not been in universities: they have been advertisers, politicians, and, above all, dictators. This study is immensely useful to practical men, whether they wish to become rich or to acquire government. It is, of course, as a science founded upon individual psychology, but hitherto it has employed rule-of-thumb methods which were based on a kind of intuitive common sense. It's importance has been enormously increased by the growth of modern methods of propaganda. Of these, the most influential is what is called "education." Religion plays a part, though a diminishing one; the press, the cinema, and the radio play an increasing part.

What is essential in mass psychology is the art of persuasion. If you compare a speech of Hitler's with a speech of (say) Edmund Burke, you will see what strides have been made in the art since the eighteenth century. What went wrong formerly was that people had read in books that man is a rational animal, and framed their arguments on this hypothesis. We now know that limelight and a brass band do more to persuade than can be done by the most elegant train of syllogisms. It may be hoped that in time anybody will be able to persuade anyone of anything if he can catch the patient young and is provided by the State with money and equipment."

Remember, this was published in 1953. Go ahead, I'll wait while you read through it again. (Also, if one is so inclined, more can be learned about Bertrand Russell and just who he was through many of Alan Watt's podcasts).

The last highlighted section is of particular importance. Speaking of a brass bands and limelight being more effective than rationality, he "hopes" that the young can be caught and that the State will provide the money and equipment to persuade them of "anything". It gives a great window into the thinking of this man. Excepting a higher "class" of men, brought about by science or otherwise, the person that speaks in this manner views men as animals and advocates (to greater or lesser, but always some degree) their manipulation as such. The possibility is not even brought up (at least, thus far in my reading) that perhaps this propaganda in which so many of his "hopes" lie serves to further and further suppress the "rational" man. In his praising of Pavlov, it doesn't seem to dawn on his Lordship for even a moment that, while man may be animalistic at his base, he has the potential and opportunity to be otherwise, unless he doesn't, due in large part to ceaseless, all-encompassing, and ever more effective propaganda techniques coupled with high technology.

In his adherence to Darwinistic principles, he advocates the manipulation of man, "hopefully" through the influential tool of "education. " There is little humanity present in this underlying theme. Indeed some men, a great many in fact, may not be rational and may never be. But the fact that a great many more could be or would be is never discussed nor is it necessarily a worthy goal in circles of men like these.

One of my larger considerations of late has been education. My own lack of it ("it" being real education/knowledge that promotes true understanding, as opposed to being trained to follow instructions), and what it will be for the child. It should require little more than a cursory look at the state of education (and just as well to be said here, Education by the State), both its past and its present, to make any parent immediately loathe the idea of sending their child to a public school. And it may be to a slightly lesser extent, but the same goes with private schooling, as well, particularly a great many of the "Christian" schools who, like the state, blanch at the idea of teaching a child to think and rather expend all efforts teaching them to conform.

Which inevitably leads to more crucial questions. Namely, will I be able to make the unpleasant choices and deal with the inevitable consequences (which are surely becoming more dire in this system) of choosing a different direction than that laid out by the "experts" who now do all of that for us? It's not a question of desire or willingness anymore--that has been considered and the choice has been made. Rather, the question has become, will I be able to actually DO IT, not in terms of intellectual capability, but in dealing with the practicalities and externalities that will surely be brought to bear sooner or later given our seemingly unmovable societal course.

Such considerations may seem on the surface to be depressing, but further reflection gives cause for hopefulness and opportunity. I think anyone would be hard pressed to find a parent who does not wish for their child a better life than they had. Unfortunately, through all of the "education", this tends (more often than not) to mean "better" in the context of material wealth, the beginning and end of our current existence. There lies the hope and the opportunity that, saved from such wretched indoctrination, there might develop a person with real humanity and real knowledge. One who is not raised as an animal to be taught the prevailing tricks of the day, but someone who is enough of a thinking individual to know what "a better life" truly means and create it for their self.

Such a course is the only option, really. The alternative is a horror show, where they will be told what to do and they will do it because they know nothing else (just like their parents) They will be told that their life is better and they will believe it, simply because they have been told. Just like animals.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Purgatory involving a chair.

That post title seems infinitely more appropriate for something else. An obscene art piece, perhaps.

Today caught me noticing in a big way that I seemed to have developed an annoying habit. More accurately stated, that would be another annoying habit, as I'm sure the list is longer than I would be comfortable being consciously aware of. I'm aware of the farting around the house issue, the unintentional scratching/adjustment of "equipment" in public, being easily and disproportionately annoyed by a lot of little things, but beyond that I don't look too hard. It might have the consequence of making me paranoid--god forbid.

After finishing some daily sort-of-required pseudo-job related activities, I decided to make the commitment to not move from this chair (save for bladder or nicotine-related issues) until I wrote something, anything.

Goddamnit, the neighbor kids just rang the doorbell. This means that the retard terriers we so foolishly purchased 4 and 5 years ago, respectively, begin going apeshit, which completely fucks my line of thought. Nothing works in shutting them up. Coercion, beatings, begging, none of it. We've largely given up, on the conclusion that learning to sit and lay down took up what little brainspace was available and there's just none left to be had for things like Remembering Who People Are or Realizing That Small Children Are Not Vampires From Space Here To Assasinate You.

Okay, they're gone. Back to the business at hand. The Work.

With the internal commitment made, I set to work about my duties confident that whatever it was I would write would come to me after spending some time in the waters of what is largely mindless work. Or perhaps something would come to me while I was trying to wade through the ridiculous pile of shit that's touted as news to find something at least resembling the remotely relevant while trying to search and better fill the gaps I'm ever painfully aware of in my knowledge of various subjects. Still nothing

Here's the newest annoyance: I'd guess that largely due my being painfully aware of just how much I still don't know well, over the last four months or so I've been trying to read and listen to certain podcasts (Alan Watt's podcast being the most prevalent) while trying to engage in meaningful reading. Thing is, this isn't just mindless music, this stuff. It requires thought--something not effectively done while trying to read and think about other things at the same time. So here's how that's been going. Read, listen, read, ohwaitwhatdidhejustsay, rewind, listen, read, ad infinitum.

After realizing I wanted to punch myself in the face, it dawned.

When you start annoying yourself, time to reevaluate. Trying to cram everything in left little to gain entrance and take up permanent residence. The available space is large but the way in, evidently, isn't ready to accommodate hydrant-drinking, as it were, so I guess I'll stop doing that.

I'm also going to stop sitting in this chair because, quite frankly, my ass hurts.

(What can I say. It's something, anything.)

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Annoyed House on the Barely Connected Prairie

Five weeks. It seems that a much greater amount of time has passed since the move, and the realization that it hasn't been is an exceedingly strange but certainly not unexplainable state of affairs. Regardless, it's high time some hands were put to keyboard in the pursuit of something, anything.

Funny, we moved from a place where you felt like you were on fire all of the time to a place that is actually on fire. Everywhere. While there have been a fair amount of clear days up here in the mountains, most of them are permeated with a nice smoky wildfire haze and the smell to go with it. Imagine going through the day with your nose telling you, "Hey, BBQ....oh, wait". Truthfully, it doesn't smell very much like BBQ at all, but try telling my nose that. Like a dogged Republican or Democrat adherent, it lives its life in a constant state of denial--I'm hoping it will come around eventually.

And further on the subject of BBQ, I haven't been able to yet. Building any sort of fire is strictly verboten (for good reason, of course) which is causing my ribeye gland no small amount of stress and has me searching the Interwebs high and low for any sort of arcane Indian snow dance to dampen everything enough so that I might feast in a manner befitting less civilized folk. Of course, relieving my rib-eye gland will only transfer the pain to my pocketbook gland.....a subject for more in-depth pissing and moaning at a later time, I suppose.

Lest you feel too sorry for me and compelled to send me large crates of aged meats (and feel free), I should let everyone know that I've been consuming large quantities of bacon and should pull through till the fire ban is lifted.

Moving on....

Let's talk about my brand spankin' new Interwebs connection. See, I was going to put a post up late last week after spending some time catching up on all of the news I missed (I wouldn't exactly say I was missing it after hearing from the in-laws that the administration, in their infinite wisdom, is declaring the armed forces of another sovereign nation a terrorist organization--again, more on that in upcoming posts). However, post-telco shenanigans, the rude reality that my connection is a "screaming" 1 Mbps (I was informed I would get 3 Mbps--the salesperson was a dirty liar. Shocking, I know.) led to slightly extended pout which brings us to the present where I have finally made the requisite mental adjustments and realized "What the hell did I expect given the remote location?"

So here's a snippet of the conversation with "tech support" in my efforts to confirm that 1 Mbps was the maximum speed I could have provisioned.....

HH: The tech just told me that 1Mbps was the max I could get out here. The salesperson said I had "DSL Max" (a moniker that should lead to, at the very least, the firing, if not outright execution of the whizbang marketeer who decided that would be a good term to use) which was 3 Mbps. Which is it? Is my provisioning wrong?

Customer Service "Expert": Ummmmm.......can you hold?

[4 minutes of Christina Aguilera. Again, add the person who thought that was a good idea to the list of people to be fired and/or shot]

CSE: Thanks for holding, sir. It looks like 1 Mbps is the max you can get out there.

HH: Really. So, the salesperson was either stupid or lying? Is that what I'm hearing?

CSE: Well, no--

HH: Oh, I'm sorry, misinformed or unintentionally misled me...

CSE: Umm, I'm not really sure. If you want more speed you could look into upgrading to our Business Class...

HH: Why would I do that? Didn't you just tell me that 1 Mbps is the max I can get here?

CSE: Huh?

HH: You just told me that 1Mbps is the max I can get. Now your telling me that I need to upgrade to Business Class for more speed. Which is it? What are you trying to tell me? I'm at my max, unless I fork over more money?

CSE: Well, 1Mbps is the max you can get out there-

HH: Then why did you bring up this Business Class business?

CSE: Huh?

HH: ***sigh*** Just answer me this last question. Do you have any access to anything, a prespective schedule, anything, that might give some indication if or when my area may be provisioned in the future for more bandwidth? (Internal: Say "huh?" one more time motherfucker. I dare you. I double dare you....They speak English in "Huh?"?)

CSE: Can you hold again?

[more Christina]

And that's where I hung up-lest I scream at the illiterate and damage his self-image.

Perhaps being barely connected is still too connected.

Monday, August 13, 2007

The Heads Have Landed

Indeed we have arrived at the next stop on what seems to be the thus far never-ending nomadic tour.

Trying to settle things in the midst of ridiculous disarray, but the sense of peace from the relocation is palpable having finally escaped the cesspool that is Phoenix. Access to teh Interwebs is a bit problematic for now given our remote location, but that should be solved in the next week, or if we're lucky, less than that (NOTE: Lucky has never been a descriptor when it comes to my acquiring needed services).

Being so forcibly disconnected (albeit temporarily) up in the mountains is a good thing, though, and not as tough as all that. After not being able to keep current with any of the goings on in the world for the last couple of weeks, it begins to come to the fore that while keeping up, if you're not careful, you can end up missing a lot.

And so much for all that. We're headed back to the mountains tomorrow to continue enjoying the silence. I haven't heard a single helicopter in at least three days--life is good.

Friday, July 27, 2007

Exhale, baby

The light has reached the end of the tunnel, guess what was there?

More fucking tunnel.

Escrow closed, recorded, and funded. By the hair of our chinny chin chins....the albatross is gone.

Escape from Phoenix (aka Get Me Out of This Fucking City, aka Breaking Free From Satan's Asshole) has now reached critical mass and is moving inexorably forward.

Holy fuckme, what load off.

More later, I'm beat all to hell from the last two days of nerves and moving to temp digs....

Monday, July 09, 2007

Flight of the Conchords Rap

I'm loathe in principle to helping HBO for various reasons, but this gets an exception.

Enjoy.

New Book Dump

It's been a bit since the last book dump, so here's the latest (which is about a month old now) for anyone interested.

Party over here.

David Rockefeller, Memoirs

Zbigniew Brzezinski, The Grand Chessboard: American Primacy and Its Geostrategic Imperatives

Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in America : The Brutal Odyssey of an Outlaw Journalist

Milton Mayer, They Thought They Were Free: The Germans, 1933-45

Greg Palast, Armed Madhouse: From Baghdad to New Orleans--Sordid Secrets and Strange Tales of a White House Gone Wild


I'm digging this HST selection, as it is a collection of his personal correspondence. Wicked good reading, providing a glimpse of the man that is very worthwhile. Brzezinski and Mayer are my main thrusts right now, and I'm picking up the Palast when lighter fare is needed.

Christ, I still need to get Glenn Greenwald's book ordered.....perhaps on the next purchasing round. I had planned to pick it up on pre-order but I need to finish this current round before I can stock up on more (that, and the fact that I really need to erect some proper bookshelves at this point).

Good stuff is happening, details to follow as things pans out over the next couple of weeks.

Saturday, June 30, 2007

Sudden, unexpected, and altogether strange.

“Hey, you wanna come down here and beat off into a cup?”

An odd question, to be sure, especially piped in over the telephone line at 2PM on a Tuesday afternoon. It was my friend, M, who worked for a fertility clinic. At first glance it would seem like a perfectly reasonable question given the source…nope, still weird.

“Come again?” I asked.

“That’s what she said. [snicker] Oh man, that never gets old. Seriously, are you busy?”

“You really want me to just jump in the car, head up to where you work, and beat off into a cup? Do I at least get some porn?”

“I don’t think we have any. You can’t do it without porn?”

“What am I, 14?”

I might be able to round some up for you, but it’s a long shot. Remember where you are….?

“Boise. Fucking mormons.”

“Right-o. So can you?”

“Why? You haven’t even told me why.”

“We’re training one of the nurses here and we’re out of practice samples. C’mon, you’ll get tested for free. It’s actually a pretty expensive test, it might come in handy.”

“I have always wanted to contribute to medicine….”

I hung up the phone without stating outright that, upon brief reflection, I would have done it if for no other reason than it’s not often that one has the opportunity to abuse oneself with official sanction. It was almost as if the benevolent faces of the AMA board up on their cloud were looking at me, nodding, all placid and benevolent-like.

And with that, I took off towards the clinic ready to dash several million little soldiers against a cruel plastic wall in the name of progress. Not that the issues surrounding the biblical and serious “spilling of seed” was a big one for me, it just happened to cross my mind while driving. After all, to say I hadn’t launched similar initiatives for progress in strategic locations all over my apartment would be a dirty lie.

Twenty minutes later I was back home on the couch. Indeed, I have never been one to lollygag in the pursuit of official business. I was especially proud that the job had been completed successfully in spite of the complete absence of porn and/or what polite society might call “manual assistance.” Surely this was a testament to the veracity and effectiveness of previous military training. We’ve done so much with so little for so long we can now do everything with nothing….

The phone woke me from dreams where I was populating wide swaths of earth. It was M with the test results. It was only now that the question crossed my mind. Blanks? Empty Goop? Lazy soldiers? Oh boy….

“Well, my friend, looks as though you’ve got another bullet point for your resume. You’re in the top 5% in terms of, well, everything. Count, motility…If I sound a little amazed, it’s because I kind of am. We don’t see this type of thing too often.”

“SWEET”

“Okay then, I gotta go. Be careful out there…seriously.”

Most would just laugh but I knew this was a serious admonition. We were, after all, in Boise. Which is in Idaho. Which means that if you have a boner and sneeze at the same time while too close to an indigenous female you’re going to end up with a shotgun wedding and a career path of cosmetology and/or construction. There’s a reason some of these guys end up with 17 wives….

Bullet points, indeed.

********

Armed with this knowledge, I and my lady have endeavored, lo these many years, to observe a stringent Reproductive Security Plan. Many fences and barriers, both physical and chemical, have been erected and maintained—I’m sure there’s some kind of mocking diatribe having to do with right-wing nuttery and The Global War Against Islamofundist Terror in there somewhere, but now is not the time, other than to say that the news I received yesterday serves only to further reinforce the fact that there is no such thing as Total Security.

Which has little to do with anything, really, but stay with me and I’m sure I can reign in this train wreck and bring us all safely to the point. Which is, that, well….my friend M seems to have not known or simply forgot to tell me what the real results were from that long ago test.

My sperm is evidently weaponized.

“Area effect” was not taken into account.

Pregnancy has manifested. Little Head has slogged the Fallopian Trail and will be taking a well-deserved rest (8 mos, or so).

Chaos and all things strange are expected from here on out.

Here is a very rough draft of what the kid's first t-shirt may look like:

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Mac vs. PC Rap=Fantastic

Could have been cut by 1/3 and been just as good, but that's nitpicking.

Enjoy.

Thursday, June 21, 2007

Brown Trouts on a Muthafuckin Plane!

Way worse than snakes.



Airline apologizes for sewage on plane

"I've never felt so offended in all my life," passenger Collin Brock of Washington state told Seattle's KING-TV. "I felt like I had been physically abused and neglected. I was forced to sit next to human excrement for seven hours."

Friday, June 15, 2007

Still around

..but what posting I've been doing has been over at Verbosities, so head there (or just make it easy and grab the feed).

There will be more quantity here shortly. So much to write about, but there is currently little time to put it in proper form.

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

Speaking commercially

Time to ramble. Given the borderline insane comment I just left on Speaker's post, reflection tells me I obviously have something that probably ought to come out, lest it sets in begins to fester.

"That's a nice looking car"

We thought it and said it at about the same time. And this time, as with (or so it seems) most other times, these words are inevitably followed by, "Too bad it's a Chrysler." Knowing about "Chrysler Quality" means being doomed to looking around and being disappointed every time you get into traffic. Anyway, we were talking about the neighbor's girlfriend's apparent new car purchase.

"I always wonder why Nancy drives that minivan."
"What minivan? She drives an SUV."
"Well, it's more mini-van than SUV, I think"

The words lept out at me like a TV commercial and in fact sounded just like it when uttered. Obviously, there isn't really any other way to say that, it was just strange and got me to thinking about language. Something along the lines of it not being used as well as it should be, in general as well as personally.

The language of my work environment is eating away at my cerebrum like a cancer. It's dulling, and makes me feel like I'm becoming mute, because if I open my mouth to speak I may scream and never stop. New perspective isn't necessarily all it's cracked up to be sometimes. When transforming into something that is in many ways the opposite of everything around you, it is difficult not feeling completely strange some days.

Goddamn, I'm almost 31. Another year gone. Add on another day of......stuff, mostly miserable, expensive, annoying, and inconvenient STUFF. Treadmill activities, the stuff of beasts who can't or won't know any better. I despise the beast that speaks commercials and find that I desperately want to become something other than that.

Truthfully, I likely just simply need to cool down (Christ it's fucking hot) and get some sleep. Tomorrow is a new day, or so they say. I certainly would like one of those, because they've all been looking like the same tired days I've lived already. It may be cliche to invoke HST righ now, but seriously, How long, o Lord, how long?

Thanks for reading this episode of My Early Mid-Life Crisis.

(Get me out of this fucking city)

Thursday, May 24, 2007

Alicia Silverstone stock on the rise

O Snap.



If you have no idea why I put this up, Google about Rosie and Elizabeth on the View and catch up.

I, also, have moments where I cannot pull away from the drama buglight. They are normally brief, but this looks like one of those times.

More Verbosities Material (Updated. A lot. Sorry, Bloglines people.)

Iran 'three to eight years' away from nuclear weapon

Ready to Lead. Prepared to Govern.

We don't negotiate with Terrorists.

Here Kitty Kitty

God Bless The Simpsons

It's Even Worse Than I Thought

Sad

The Gin Blossoms are playing at a housing development.

So, I know that's worse than the fair, but here's the question.

Is it worse than playing a prom?

Jetsetting Impotent Hamsters

No I'm not referring to our politicians.

Here ya go--a little morning nonsense.

They tell us it's to help the internal clock adjust to travelling east. I think it's actually a few high-profile hamsters with too much job stress who've developed an inability to "swing it like real hamster-men", as it were. It's a little known problem--there should probably be some sort of charity event to raise awareness for this...."Get it up for Hamsters" or something. Attack people who don't seem to care with questions like "how would you like it if you couldn't bone anything? Hamsters have needs too, you cold-hearted bastards!"

Christ. I need to stay offline until I've been awake for at least an hour.