The TV shows The Simpsons and Family Guy both have husband/father characters (Homer Simpson and Peter Griffin, respectively) who are pretty much stupid and worthless human beings. Homer in particular is foolish, lazy, irresponsible, insensitive, and driven by his appetites—for beer, for doughnuts. . . . Yet on both shows, their wives love them and are infinitely forgiving. The wives, in fact, are endowed not only with infinite forgiveness and love, but definitely have a monopoly on the intelligence, wisdom, and common sense in their respective families.
In a typical episode, the husband, Homer or Peter, makes foolish mistakes that send the family (or the town or the nuclear plant) to the brink of disaster. Something somehow always saves the day, the guy apologizes to his wife, and she forgives him, 'cause she loves him. (Some of these characterizations might fit The Simpsons better than Family Guy, I feel I ought to admit.)
We'll leave aside the issue of whether it's realistic for any wife to be so infinitely forgiving and infinitely patient. (I, for one, have to wonder how it is that a point never comes when the wife has simply had enough, and I'm sure divorces have occurred with less cause.) If you want to look at older television, The Honeymooners might be seen in the same vein as The Simpsons and Family Guy and thus a predecessor of the newer shows: Ralph Kramden is always doing foolish things, getting himself in trouble in one way or another (and the creativity of the show is precisely to devise new ways in which Ralph can get into trouble).
So, when the husbands are worthless and the wives have all the intelligence, strength, wisdom—all the virtues—think about this portrayal of men and women. This looks to me like a feminist view of the qualities of the two sexes. Well, convinced as I am of this idea, one problem with it is that in both cases, the originator of the show is a man: Seth McFarlane in the case of Family Guy and Matt Groening in the case of The Simpsons. I'm not sure that this totally viscerates my theory because it's certainly conceivable that a man can take a feminist viewpoint.
On the other hand there's I Love Lucy, where the gender roles are the opposite. Lucy is very clever, but in a perverted sort of way. She concocts improbable schemes to get what she wants and to get around her husband, Ricky, who rules the roost like a traditional husband. However, her schemes always backfire, and Ricky has to forgive her. This looks like a reversal of The Simpsons and Family Guy. However, Lucy challenging the husband's supremacy in the marriage may still be feminist.
Okay, three where the wife has to forgive, one where it's the other way around. The Honeymooners and I Love Lucy are both from the 1950s, but certainly modern feminism has roots that go back much further than that.
Copyright © 2009 Richard Stein
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
The Newly Visible Newt
Once upon a time, when he was Speaker of the House, Newt Gingrich was very visible. They he lay low for a few years: we didn't see or hear much of him. Now, suddenly, he's very visible again, appearing on those Sunday-morning talking-heads political shows.
Why is he again so much in the public eye? He's got "presidential candidate" written all over him.
Remember that this is the guy who told his wife he was divorcing her while she was lying in the hospital terminally ill with cancer. But people have short memories, and he's banking on that.
Remember at least what a newt is: a little lizard.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
Why is he again so much in the public eye? He's got "presidential candidate" written all over him.
Remember that this is the guy who told his wife he was divorcing her while she was lying in the hospital terminally ill with cancer. But people have short memories, and he's banking on that.
Remember at least what a newt is: a little lizard.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
Thursday, May 28, 2009
The Seasons
In the summer I do my sad little version of "gardening," that is, tending flowers in containers on my second-story porch. Still, I do enjoy making things grow, and there's the reward of having the pretty flowers, too.
And there's walking (I like to take little hikes in a nearby wildlife refuge, although I don't do as much of this as I used to, due to joint pain), reading out on my porch, and cooking and eating out there, too. (Makes me wonder how I pass my time in the winter. Now don't start envisioning someone sitting by the fire knitting—I may have a fire, but I don't knit.) Also, here in Chicago—unlike some places where you could do all the year 'round those things that we do in summer--we appreciate our nice weather all the more once it comes.
Certainly we make adjustments to our lives according to the seasons. There are lots of "outdoor activities" that are associated with summer. There are outdoor winter activities, too--skiing, snowmobiling, ice skating--but I never was into any of those. There was a time, many years ago—either when I was trying to write a PhD thesis or a period of unemployment—when I spent a time outdoors pretty much daily, all through the winter: hiking around with my camera, clambering up on the ice dunes that form on the beach, taking pictures. It seems as though you can develop a certain adaptation or tolerance to the cold weather, and I have never again, since that winter, had that kind of acclimatization. Nowadays I don't have to experience winter's cold very much simply because I don't do the walking, don't spend much time outdoors, don't go anywhere except in my car. (Once in a while I shovel a little snow, but that's mostly performed for me.) Not that that's entirely a good thing, but it does lessen the degree to which I want to leave our cold climate behind.
Also, I am perhaps not quite yet in that age regime, but there comes an age when your balance is not as good so that there's the danger of slipping and falling on ice. Old folks who fall might sustain fractures. Not a cheery thought, but the point is that if I don't do all the wintertime tramping around outdoors that I once did, I'm not as much at risk for that sort of thing.
Anyway, it's summer. Time to put all that out of mind and enjoy all the advantages of this time of year.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
And there's walking (I like to take little hikes in a nearby wildlife refuge, although I don't do as much of this as I used to, due to joint pain), reading out on my porch, and cooking and eating out there, too. (Makes me wonder how I pass my time in the winter. Now don't start envisioning someone sitting by the fire knitting—I may have a fire, but I don't knit.) Also, here in Chicago—unlike some places where you could do all the year 'round those things that we do in summer--we appreciate our nice weather all the more once it comes.
Certainly we make adjustments to our lives according to the seasons. There are lots of "outdoor activities" that are associated with summer. There are outdoor winter activities, too--skiing, snowmobiling, ice skating--but I never was into any of those. There was a time, many years ago—either when I was trying to write a PhD thesis or a period of unemployment—when I spent a time outdoors pretty much daily, all through the winter: hiking around with my camera, clambering up on the ice dunes that form on the beach, taking pictures. It seems as though you can develop a certain adaptation or tolerance to the cold weather, and I have never again, since that winter, had that kind of acclimatization. Nowadays I don't have to experience winter's cold very much simply because I don't do the walking, don't spend much time outdoors, don't go anywhere except in my car. (Once in a while I shovel a little snow, but that's mostly performed for me.) Not that that's entirely a good thing, but it does lessen the degree to which I want to leave our cold climate behind.
Also, I am perhaps not quite yet in that age regime, but there comes an age when your balance is not as good so that there's the danger of slipping and falling on ice. Old folks who fall might sustain fractures. Not a cheery thought, but the point is that if I don't do all the wintertime tramping around outdoors that I once did, I'm not as much at risk for that sort of thing.
Anyway, it's summer. Time to put all that out of mind and enjoy all the advantages of this time of year.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
School Days, circa 1950
It seems like every kid in America these days rides a schoolbus to school. That wasn't always the case, of course. My grandfather used to tell us how he had to walk to school--with holes in his shoes, and uphill both ways. And I had to walk to school, too, at least when I missed the dinosaur.
Seriously, I did have to walk to school. We didn't have school buses. Back then only rural kids had school buses. So I walked, to elementary school and high school. During elementary school years, I walked to and fro, not only morning and afternoon, but to go home for lunch, too. There was no lunch served by the school, everyone had to go home for lunch. And my mother worked, so I was a latchkey kid before the term had been coined.
My elementary school was probably not much different from the ones my parents had attended. The classroom had a big, old-fashioned (even then) crank-up phonograph. I don't think it had one of those horns, though. When we learned to write, we used a pencil, until—I think it was in the third grade—we were grown up enough to make the big jump to INK!
In preparation for that big move, every kid had to make a pen wiper at home and bring it in to school. This was two small squares of cloth with a large button in the middle sewn through the two layers of cloth.
Once we made the move to ink, we were issued a long black wooden pen holder and a steel nib. Every student's desk had an inkwell in the top, and the teacher would mix up the ink in a tall glass bottle, and then come around to every desk and pour some ink into each kid's inkwell. Of course this came with all sorts of cautions to us kids, such as about not trying to take the inkwell out of the desk while it had ink in it. Supposedly the thing to do, as a prank, was to grab one of the long hair braids of the girl sitting in front of you and dip it into your inkwell; but I don't think anyone actually did that. Probably because girls weren't still wearing their hair in braids.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
Seriously, I did have to walk to school. We didn't have school buses. Back then only rural kids had school buses. So I walked, to elementary school and high school. During elementary school years, I walked to and fro, not only morning and afternoon, but to go home for lunch, too. There was no lunch served by the school, everyone had to go home for lunch. And my mother worked, so I was a latchkey kid before the term had been coined.
My elementary school was probably not much different from the ones my parents had attended. The classroom had a big, old-fashioned (even then) crank-up phonograph. I don't think it had one of those horns, though. When we learned to write, we used a pencil, until—I think it was in the third grade—we were grown up enough to make the big jump to INK!
In preparation for that big move, every kid had to make a pen wiper at home and bring it in to school. This was two small squares of cloth with a large button in the middle sewn through the two layers of cloth.
Once we made the move to ink, we were issued a long black wooden pen holder and a steel nib. Every student's desk had an inkwell in the top, and the teacher would mix up the ink in a tall glass bottle, and then come around to every desk and pour some ink into each kid's inkwell. Of course this came with all sorts of cautions to us kids, such as about not trying to take the inkwell out of the desk while it had ink in it. Supposedly the thing to do, as a prank, was to grab one of the long hair braids of the girl sitting in front of you and dip it into your inkwell; but I don't think anyone actually did that. Probably because girls weren't still wearing their hair in braids.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
"We" and "They"
A lot of human prejudice, persecution, and even war seems to be the result of an innate or very deeply ingrained tendency of us humans to divide up all the other humans that we experience into "we" and "they." Group membership can be based on skin color, nationality, ethnicity, clan, tribe, religion, language, neighborhood, caste, college attended, even sports team supported—anything that can be a source of a person's identity.
Group members often stick to their own kind. It's not difficult to think of ethnic groups in America which are very cohesive--I'm sure I need not name any--and immigrants to America have frequently settled among others of their own group. (Of course there are practical advantages to this, such as facilitated communication if you haven't learned English.)
But just look at how prejudice dehumanizes the "other." Southern US slaveholders firmly asserted that Blacks were an inferior group and not totally human. German propaganda of the Nazi era asserted false racial doctrines that Jews (and in fact every "non-Aryan" group) were inferior. And the US did this, too, in its wartime propaganda and elsewhere. When the United States was in the process of seizing control of Hawaii from its native government under Queen Liliuokalani, US newspaper cartoonists depicted Liliuokalani as an ape-like creature who didn't deserve to be governing the American planters and missionaries living in Hawaii.
During World War II, US wartime propaganda depicted the Japanese enemy as having brutal, animal-like features—not to mention that in wartime it's often implied that the soldiers of the enemy, if they had the chance, would rape your wife and daughter. A very sad instance of this is that thousands of Okinawans killed themselves when, during World War II, it became obvious that American forces were going to capture their island, because they had been led by Japanese propaganda to believe that a successful incursion of Americans spelled automatic rape of all their women, and other atrocities.
It's also interesting to note that very many peoples call themselves by a name that means, in their own language, something like "the people" or "humans"; thus all others are not human. (Or, possibly--to give some homage to a counter argument--their name for themselves may date back to a time when they had no awareness of the existence of any other people.)
Is there some innate feature of our brains that predisposes us to decide whether every new human encountered is "one of us" or not? I'm not aware of any studies that used brain scans to try to see whether the activity of the brain differs during perception of a face as "one of us" or "non-us." Certainly that would be a very interesting question to study.
Or is it cultural, albeit with origins very far back in the history of our species? Here is my suggestion: Anthropologists use the term exogamy to denote the custom of tribes seeking their brides outside their own tribe. There are also endogamous tribes, whose customs demand marriage within the group--but many bands of humans may have discovered the genetic disadvantages of inbreeding, and thus exogamy evolved.
Well, how do you get brides from that "other" tribe, just the other side of the hill or across the stream? Bridal raiding parties! We all know the stereotyped image of the caveman, club in hand, carrying off his bride, dragging her by the hair. Bearing in mind that "cavemen" were the ancestors of modern Europeans, and that there are many other ancestral lines of peoples in the world, parties of warriors organized to capture brides for the tribe's young men existed widely.
This might be one explanation of why you find this paradigm so very widespread in the world: just over the horizon or beyond some natural barrier is a kindred people, with a cognate language, so that an objective onlooker might consider them brothers or at least cousins—and yet they hate one another.
Often there is an excuse. Think of the terrible and violent animosity between Catholics and Protestants in Northern Ireland—the product of history and religious differences. (In this case and in others, grievances are remembered that date back hundreds of years.) But I wager that, on the street, you can't tell who is which. So we can still hate even if folks don't look any different from us.
Update, October 27, 2011
I have to mention another cause of war, other than making war for the purpose of capturing brides. At the time in human history when agriculture and pastoralism were beginning, the idea of boundaries also arose: each tribe asserted a claim to the land it was using for its farms and its flocks; so it's easy to see that conflicts over a tribe's boundaries might arise.
Update, August 18, 2013
I showed above that during World War II it was not only the Germans who engaged in propoganda. Now I have to correct the possible impression that wartime propoganda started with World War II. It did not: before the US entered World War I, President Woodrow Wilson set up the "Committee for Public Information," which was nothing more nor less than a propoganda machine intended to sell the American public on a war by such means as developing anti-German posters much like those that were used in the Second World War.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
Group members often stick to their own kind. It's not difficult to think of ethnic groups in America which are very cohesive--I'm sure I need not name any--and immigrants to America have frequently settled among others of their own group. (Of course there are practical advantages to this, such as facilitated communication if you haven't learned English.)
But just look at how prejudice dehumanizes the "other." Southern US slaveholders firmly asserted that Blacks were an inferior group and not totally human. German propaganda of the Nazi era asserted false racial doctrines that Jews (and in fact every "non-Aryan" group) were inferior. And the US did this, too, in its wartime propaganda and elsewhere. When the United States was in the process of seizing control of Hawaii from its native government under Queen Liliuokalani, US newspaper cartoonists depicted Liliuokalani as an ape-like creature who didn't deserve to be governing the American planters and missionaries living in Hawaii.
During World War II, US wartime propaganda depicted the Japanese enemy as having brutal, animal-like features—not to mention that in wartime it's often implied that the soldiers of the enemy, if they had the chance, would rape your wife and daughter. A very sad instance of this is that thousands of Okinawans killed themselves when, during World War II, it became obvious that American forces were going to capture their island, because they had been led by Japanese propaganda to believe that a successful incursion of Americans spelled automatic rape of all their women, and other atrocities.
It's also interesting to note that very many peoples call themselves by a name that means, in their own language, something like "the people" or "humans"; thus all others are not human. (Or, possibly--to give some homage to a counter argument--their name for themselves may date back to a time when they had no awareness of the existence of any other people.)
Is there some innate feature of our brains that predisposes us to decide whether every new human encountered is "one of us" or not? I'm not aware of any studies that used brain scans to try to see whether the activity of the brain differs during perception of a face as "one of us" or "non-us." Certainly that would be a very interesting question to study.
Or is it cultural, albeit with origins very far back in the history of our species? Here is my suggestion: Anthropologists use the term exogamy to denote the custom of tribes seeking their brides outside their own tribe. There are also endogamous tribes, whose customs demand marriage within the group--but many bands of humans may have discovered the genetic disadvantages of inbreeding, and thus exogamy evolved.
Well, how do you get brides from that "other" tribe, just the other side of the hill or across the stream? Bridal raiding parties! We all know the stereotyped image of the caveman, club in hand, carrying off his bride, dragging her by the hair. Bearing in mind that "cavemen" were the ancestors of modern Europeans, and that there are many other ancestral lines of peoples in the world, parties of warriors organized to capture brides for the tribe's young men existed widely.
This might be one explanation of why you find this paradigm so very widespread in the world: just over the horizon or beyond some natural barrier is a kindred people, with a cognate language, so that an objective onlooker might consider them brothers or at least cousins—and yet they hate one another.
Often there is an excuse. Think of the terrible and violent animosity between Catholics and Protestants in Northern Ireland—the product of history and religious differences. (In this case and in others, grievances are remembered that date back hundreds of years.) But I wager that, on the street, you can't tell who is which. So we can still hate even if folks don't look any different from us.
Update, October 27, 2011
I have to mention another cause of war, other than making war for the purpose of capturing brides. At the time in human history when agriculture and pastoralism were beginning, the idea of boundaries also arose: each tribe asserted a claim to the land it was using for its farms and its flocks; so it's easy to see that conflicts over a tribe's boundaries might arise.
Update, August 18, 2013
I showed above that during World War II it was not only the Germans who engaged in propoganda. Now I have to correct the possible impression that wartime propoganda started with World War II. It did not: before the US entered World War I, President Woodrow Wilson set up the "Committee for Public Information," which was nothing more nor less than a propoganda machine intended to sell the American public on a war by such means as developing anti-German posters much like those that were used in the Second World War.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
Monday, May 25, 2009
The Military Dehumanizes People
When people enter the military and undergo training, what is one of the first things they are taught? It's called drill. Every person must march in coordination: perfect synchrony, lock-step. Like machines. It seems to me that, if you want machines, you start with machines.
The human identity must be submerged into the whole. (Any Star Trek fans out there remember the Borg?) But that goes against the very nature of what it is to be human: every human being is unique, an individual.
Also, there is the military's insistence on unquestioning obedience to authority. Again, do not think for yourself, do not be a human being, be something mechanical, a machine within a larger machine.
I saw an interesting little video clip not long ago about a robot being developed for the military. Of course it's the ultimate weapon: it won't know fear, it can't be "killed" by chemical or biological weapons, etc. This is what the military has been aiming for for thousands of years: instead of turning humans into machines, we can use real machines to begin with. Think of all the training that will be saved.
Update, December 21, 2012
Scientific fact has a way of imitating science fiction. We have drone airplanes and probably one day the drones of Army A will fight the drones of Army B. And, as I wrote, one day there will probably be drone or android soldiers; think of Star Wars.
Further thought, added November 27, 2013.
The trend toward developing machines to fight our wars brings to mind a clever comic strip of the Seventies called Pogo. To paraphrase Pogo, If you want better machines, you start with machines. I guess the boys in the Pentagon, with their lethal "toys for big boys," recognize this.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
The human identity must be submerged into the whole. (Any Star Trek fans out there remember the Borg?) But that goes against the very nature of what it is to be human: every human being is unique, an individual.
Also, there is the military's insistence on unquestioning obedience to authority. Again, do not think for yourself, do not be a human being, be something mechanical, a machine within a larger machine.
I saw an interesting little video clip not long ago about a robot being developed for the military. Of course it's the ultimate weapon: it won't know fear, it can't be "killed" by chemical or biological weapons, etc. This is what the military has been aiming for for thousands of years: instead of turning humans into machines, we can use real machines to begin with. Think of all the training that will be saved.
Update, December 21, 2012
Scientific fact has a way of imitating science fiction. We have drone airplanes and probably one day the drones of Army A will fight the drones of Army B. And, as I wrote, one day there will probably be drone or android soldiers; think of Star Wars.
Further thought, added November 27, 2013.
The trend toward developing machines to fight our wars brings to mind a clever comic strip of the Seventies called Pogo. To paraphrase Pogo, If you want better machines, you start with machines. I guess the boys in the Pentagon, with their lethal "toys for big boys," recognize this.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Guns in America
An interesting news item was statistics on the numbers of violent deaths in several countries. Australia had 263 annually. Canada was next-lowest. The UK was next with still only a three-figure statistic. The US was some 23,000. Clearly, the US is relatively a very violent country, and we have to ask why.
I used to advocate gun control laws as a means of reducing the problem of gun violence in the U.S. Now I realize that, while the relatively ready availability of guns may be a contributing factor, it is not the only cause of our problem.
Whether or not guns are freely available, the problem is that people want to have guns. Europeans regard America as still the Wild West, and I have to think that that is partially correct.
America had its Wild West period, but how much of a lasting mark would that time and place have made on America? Largely beginning with Western movies of 50 or 60 years ago, Hollywood mythologized the Wild West, glamorized its gunslingers, and made the killing of people with guns heroic and glamorous.
The legacy of this is that in America today, to have a gun is mature, it is macho. This is the model that has been held up for our youth. I am sure it is a rite of passage for gang members and many other youths in certain subcultures in America to acquire guns, and maybe even to commit their first shooting. It is this culture of guns that is to blame. We need to begin to figure out how to change this.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
I used to advocate gun control laws as a means of reducing the problem of gun violence in the U.S. Now I realize that, while the relatively ready availability of guns may be a contributing factor, it is not the only cause of our problem.
Whether or not guns are freely available, the problem is that people want to have guns. Europeans regard America as still the Wild West, and I have to think that that is partially correct.
America had its Wild West period, but how much of a lasting mark would that time and place have made on America? Largely beginning with Western movies of 50 or 60 years ago, Hollywood mythologized the Wild West, glamorized its gunslingers, and made the killing of people with guns heroic and glamorous.
The legacy of this is that in America today, to have a gun is mature, it is macho. This is the model that has been held up for our youth. I am sure it is a rite of passage for gang members and many other youths in certain subcultures in America to acquire guns, and maybe even to commit their first shooting. It is this culture of guns that is to blame. We need to begin to figure out how to change this.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Conundrums
This is (I hope) your laugh for today. A couple of these, I admit, are not original.
Who is Al Fresco and why does everybody want to dine with him?
Who is San Andreas and why is it his fault?
Why do noses run and feet smell?
Why is the heir apparent?
Why don't birds grow from bird seed?
Why don't shoes grow on shoe trees?
Why does night fall and day break?
Are sea horses used in water polo?
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
Who is Al Fresco and why does everybody want to dine with him?
Who is San Andreas and why is it his fault?
Why do noses run and feet smell?
Why is the heir apparent?
Why don't birds grow from bird seed?
Why don't shoes grow on shoe trees?
Why does night fall and day break?
Are sea horses used in water polo?
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
Friday, May 22, 2009
Eponymous Businesses
One of the most famous, and ubiquitous, businesses in America, a true household name, is also an eponymous business, bearing the name of its founder, Duncan Doughnuts. Another founder of a great American enterprise, perhaps less ubiquitous but nearly as famous, is Creighton Barrel.
What is less well known is that, long before he started his famous housewares (and later furniture) company, Mr. Barrel was in quite another line of work, stock brokerage, where he was partnered with Jason Lockstock. Naturally the concern was called Lockstock and Barrel.
And—again a story nearly forgotten—that huge feeder of millions of Americans, McDonald's, was started by none other than Old McDonald, who decided to come off the farm and start a hamburger restaurant in America's burgeoning suburbs. Some of his earlier eateries in fact bore the name "Old McDonald's."
Sadly, as I write this, another eponymous business is just on the verge of ceasing to be. That is Washington Mutual, the bank that had spread to where it had branches in 23 states. Mr. Mutual was, of course, one of so very many Americans to be named after the Father of Our Country, George Washington.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
What is less well known is that, long before he started his famous housewares (and later furniture) company, Mr. Barrel was in quite another line of work, stock brokerage, where he was partnered with Jason Lockstock. Naturally the concern was called Lockstock and Barrel.
And—again a story nearly forgotten—that huge feeder of millions of Americans, McDonald's, was started by none other than Old McDonald, who decided to come off the farm and start a hamburger restaurant in America's burgeoning suburbs. Some of his earlier eateries in fact bore the name "Old McDonald's."
Sadly, as I write this, another eponymous business is just on the verge of ceasing to be. That is Washington Mutual, the bank that had spread to where it had branches in 23 states. Mr. Mutual was, of course, one of so very many Americans to be named after the Father of Our Country, George Washington.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Cheney Should Shut Up
George W. Bush has been observing some sort of protocol or tradition that says that a former president should not attempt to interfere in national political affairs. Dick Cheney, though, does not have any scruples about doing precisely that.
Cheney has been debating Obama--in public forums if not face to face--on the matter of the torture of prisoners held at Guantanamo Bay prison.
The American voters have repudiated the Cowboy Culture of Bush-Cheney. Mr. Cheney should accept that he has had his day in the pulpit and simply shut up.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
Cheney has been debating Obama--in public forums if not face to face--on the matter of the torture of prisoners held at Guantanamo Bay prison.
The American voters have repudiated the Cowboy Culture of Bush-Cheney. Mr. Cheney should accept that he has had his day in the pulpit and simply shut up.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
A Bit about Getting Older
No, I don't—for those of you with a classical background—aspire to rival Cicero; I haven't even read his De Senectute (On Old Age). So don't accuse me of hubris, or of being a copycat.
Just a few little observations of my own, from experience. I won't go into the usual "Yeah, you get aches and pains, lots of medical conditions," etc., etc. All that may be true, for many of us (I've got my share although I've been spared some of the biggies).
For one thing, your perspective on things is much different from that of a younger person. Young people may talk about doing something "some day." "Sure, I'd like to visit Paris some day." By the time you get to my age, you have probably awakened to the fact that you've got to stop saying "some day," because you no longer have all the time in the world ahead of you. You realize that if you put something off, you may well never get to do it. You may pass away before you do; or at some point your health no longer permits you to do it.
And, of course, it may start to be difficult to remain "hip." (Does anyone still use that word?) Slang is largely the property of the young, and it changes rapidly; so for us old folks, if we try to be hip and with it, it's likely to be a laughable attempt: our hip and with-it slang may be 20 or 30 years out of date! On the other hand, I may deliberately use words I know are pretty old-fashioned, that no one has heard for years. I know lots of words (and names) derived from a culture or a world that's bygone and thus unknown to younger folks.
There are some good sides to being old and/or retired. It's true that at some point in our lives we become more comfortable with ourselves, with living in our own skins. We gain a certain self-acceptance.
And of course there's the freedom of being retired. I say that, aside from paying my taxes and my bills—and feeding myself—there are damned few things I have to do. I can spend my days as I like, planned or unplanned. I can get up when I want, go to bed when I want, eat when I want (the latter a pleasant change from some work environments I unfortunately had to accommodate myself to, where overly-controlling bosses dictated meal times, break times, etc.). Today, for example, I came home from shopping and looked at the clock. It was 11:36. Now, a tough decision: Do I have "elevenses," or an early lunch? I chose the latter. Dug into the rewards of my shopping trip.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
Just a few little observations of my own, from experience. I won't go into the usual "Yeah, you get aches and pains, lots of medical conditions," etc., etc. All that may be true, for many of us (I've got my share although I've been spared some of the biggies).
For one thing, your perspective on things is much different from that of a younger person. Young people may talk about doing something "some day." "Sure, I'd like to visit Paris some day." By the time you get to my age, you have probably awakened to the fact that you've got to stop saying "some day," because you no longer have all the time in the world ahead of you. You realize that if you put something off, you may well never get to do it. You may pass away before you do; or at some point your health no longer permits you to do it.
And, of course, it may start to be difficult to remain "hip." (Does anyone still use that word?) Slang is largely the property of the young, and it changes rapidly; so for us old folks, if we try to be hip and with it, it's likely to be a laughable attempt: our hip and with-it slang may be 20 or 30 years out of date! On the other hand, I may deliberately use words I know are pretty old-fashioned, that no one has heard for years. I know lots of words (and names) derived from a culture or a world that's bygone and thus unknown to younger folks.
There are some good sides to being old and/or retired. It's true that at some point in our lives we become more comfortable with ourselves, with living in our own skins. We gain a certain self-acceptance.
And of course there's the freedom of being retired. I say that, aside from paying my taxes and my bills—and feeding myself—there are damned few things I have to do. I can spend my days as I like, planned or unplanned. I can get up when I want, go to bed when I want, eat when I want (the latter a pleasant change from some work environments I unfortunately had to accommodate myself to, where overly-controlling bosses dictated meal times, break times, etc.). Today, for example, I came home from shopping and looked at the clock. It was 11:36. Now, a tough decision: Do I have "elevenses," or an early lunch? I chose the latter. Dug into the rewards of my shopping trip.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
Monday, May 18, 2009
Our Overweight Kids
Probably everybody knows that there's an obesity epidemic in America. Something like a quarter of Americans are obese and, if you add in the percentage who are simply overweight, it comes to about a third.
It's also been widely mentioned that there is an obesity epidemic among America's kids. One reason for this is thought to be kids' lack of exercise: too much time spent with TV, computers, and video games. To lump all these together, public health officials urge parents to limit kids' "screen time."
But diet has to be a factor, too. Americans' consumption of soft drinks is enormous. Liquids in our diet—probably excluding soup—don't fill us up, so they just add calories.
If they are allowed to do so, kids will virtually live on hot dogs, hamburgers, and pizza. The very large component of our diet that fast food represents has to be one reason why we've gained a lot of weight.
When it comes to kids, the question is what responsibility the parents have for kids' poor diets. Certainly when they're big kids, and they go to the mall on their own or gather with friends after school (in my day it was the soda fountain, but who has even heard of a soda fountain in the last, what? 40 or 50 years?), they are outside of parents' control. But with younger kids, I think the parents are responsible. How many moms, when their husbands are working late and not coming home for dinner, take the kids to McDonald's or some place like that? I personally almost never eat in places like McDonald's or Burger King, but if I go to the mall and eat in the mall's food court, I see parents eating with their kids. There are healthier choices, but I see them feeding their kids pizza, hamburgers, tacos, and so on.
Again, with older kids, preaching to them probably will do no good; but where parents could have a positive influence on what their kids eat, they're not doing a good job.
The consequence is that these kids may develop Type II diabetes and other illnesses associated with overweight even while they are in their teens. It's tragic. And it's all preventable.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
It's also been widely mentioned that there is an obesity epidemic among America's kids. One reason for this is thought to be kids' lack of exercise: too much time spent with TV, computers, and video games. To lump all these together, public health officials urge parents to limit kids' "screen time."
But diet has to be a factor, too. Americans' consumption of soft drinks is enormous. Liquids in our diet—probably excluding soup—don't fill us up, so they just add calories.
If they are allowed to do so, kids will virtually live on hot dogs, hamburgers, and pizza. The very large component of our diet that fast food represents has to be one reason why we've gained a lot of weight.
When it comes to kids, the question is what responsibility the parents have for kids' poor diets. Certainly when they're big kids, and they go to the mall on their own or gather with friends after school (in my day it was the soda fountain, but who has even heard of a soda fountain in the last, what? 40 or 50 years?), they are outside of parents' control. But with younger kids, I think the parents are responsible. How many moms, when their husbands are working late and not coming home for dinner, take the kids to McDonald's or some place like that? I personally almost never eat in places like McDonald's or Burger King, but if I go to the mall and eat in the mall's food court, I see parents eating with their kids. There are healthier choices, but I see them feeding their kids pizza, hamburgers, tacos, and so on.
Again, with older kids, preaching to them probably will do no good; but where parents could have a positive influence on what their kids eat, they're not doing a good job.
The consequence is that these kids may develop Type II diabetes and other illnesses associated with overweight even while they are in their teens. It's tragic. And it's all preventable.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Me and Sports
I like to imagine I can know everything. Well, of course I can't, and I do know that—at least in some of my more rational moments. There are a few things that I don't really want to know about, like sports, or pop culture, or anything having to do with the military.
Let's talk about me and sports. As one of my friends once put it, I'm your old-fashioned faggot who doesn't know anything about sports. I even pride myself on that. And what's up with all this identification with your local sports team? Here in Chicago, if you're a South Sider you're—I don't quite get how this magically comes about—a White Sox fan, and if you're a North Sider you're a Cubs fan.
In Chicago, we have one sports team called the Cubs and one called the Bears. I asked whether Cubs grow up to be Bears.
I wondered whether the opposite of pro football was anti football.
I asked whether water polo is played by riding on sea horses.
Seriously, why do professional athletes (and, for that matter, others who entertain us—movie stars, rappers, etc.) have to earn obscene amounts of money—while teachers and even scientists make a fraction of that? Only CEOs of big companies earn salaries of that magnitude. I think I read somewhere that gladiators in ancient Rome made a very good living—so I guess we, just like the ancient Romans, place a very high value our "bread and circuses."
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
Let's talk about me and sports. As one of my friends once put it, I'm your old-fashioned faggot who doesn't know anything about sports. I even pride myself on that. And what's up with all this identification with your local sports team? Here in Chicago, if you're a South Sider you're—I don't quite get how this magically comes about—a White Sox fan, and if you're a North Sider you're a Cubs fan.
In Chicago, we have one sports team called the Cubs and one called the Bears. I asked whether Cubs grow up to be Bears.
I wondered whether the opposite of pro football was anti football.
I asked whether water polo is played by riding on sea horses.
Seriously, why do professional athletes (and, for that matter, others who entertain us—movie stars, rappers, etc.) have to earn obscene amounts of money—while teachers and even scientists make a fraction of that? Only CEOs of big companies earn salaries of that magnitude. I think I read somewhere that gladiators in ancient Rome made a very good living—so I guess we, just like the ancient Romans, place a very high value our "bread and circuses."
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Why They Hate Americans
We know that there are lots of people in the world who don't care very much for America and Americans. This gets most obvious when they fly airplanes into our big buildings, of course; but it's not just Muslims. Even—can you believe?—lots of Brits don't much care for "Yanks."
Well, it might be a useful exercise to try to look at ourselves, our culture, as it might appear to others.
What are some of the things that we Americans worry about? Well, if you look at TV advertising, at least at this time of year, the true tragedies of American suburban existence are crabgrass, dandelions, and bald spots on our lawns.
And consider some of these facts:
Our pets are better fed and get better medical care than millions, or maybe billions, of the world's human beings.
We set our finest scientific minds to taking the calories out of our food ('cause we are disgustingly fat, again while millions are starving) and the wrinkles out of our complexions.
Middle (okay, upper-middle) -class American kids get "personal coaches" paid for by their parents. They were using Day-Timers to schedule their horribly busy lives but now surely all have Blackberries.
My neighbors all have two-car garages that do not hold all the family's vehicles. (And what is the ratio of autos-per-family in India, or China, or. . . .?)
We don't normally see this, of course, but our material bounty surely is excessive and disgusting when you look at the literal wretched masses of the earth. One good side to the current economic hard times is that people are starting to ask themselves, "Do I need to buy that?" Reduced consumption, and hence production, is bad for the engines of American industry, I'm sure—but it's good for global warming and maybe good for our souls.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
Well, it might be a useful exercise to try to look at ourselves, our culture, as it might appear to others.
What are some of the things that we Americans worry about? Well, if you look at TV advertising, at least at this time of year, the true tragedies of American suburban existence are crabgrass, dandelions, and bald spots on our lawns.
And consider some of these facts:
Our pets are better fed and get better medical care than millions, or maybe billions, of the world's human beings.
We set our finest scientific minds to taking the calories out of our food ('cause we are disgustingly fat, again while millions are starving) and the wrinkles out of our complexions.
Middle (okay, upper-middle) -class American kids get "personal coaches" paid for by their parents. They were using Day-Timers to schedule their horribly busy lives but now surely all have Blackberries.
My neighbors all have two-car garages that do not hold all the family's vehicles. (And what is the ratio of autos-per-family in India, or China, or. . . .?)
We don't normally see this, of course, but our material bounty surely is excessive and disgusting when you look at the literal wretched masses of the earth. One good side to the current economic hard times is that people are starting to ask themselves, "Do I need to buy that?" Reduced consumption, and hence production, is bad for the engines of American industry, I'm sure—but it's good for global warming and maybe good for our souls.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
Friday, May 15, 2009
Let's Cry for Chrysler (Dealers)
Car salesmen are not a highly thought of occupational group. In fact, they're widely regarded as sleazy and often out-and-out dishonest. And the dealers, if not actively encouraging the behavior of their salesmen, at least countenance it.
This comes from one who recently bought a car—from a dealer who actually had a good record with the Better Business Bureau but with whom, since the sale, I have at least a couple of grievances.
So are car dealers deserving of our sympathy in their present situation of being forced to close by Chrysler and GM? Maybe I can't give a good reason why, but I do feel sorry for them. The GM dealers are getting quite a bit of notice, but the Chrysler dealers are not. They have to close on short notice, and Chrysler won't take back the cars. (What will happen to all those cars in the dealers' possession? My guess is that they'll be sold to car auction outfits. Some lucky buyers will probably get good deals on new, '09 Chrysler cars.)
I guess I was somewhat moved by a segment on TV that showed a Chrysler dealership here in Chicago that had been started in the 1930's by a Lithuanian immigrant who still is involved in it—along with his children and grandchildren. It's one of those American success stories that get woven into the mythology of what America is. So—the end of an era. Can’t help but think it's sad.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
This comes from one who recently bought a car—from a dealer who actually had a good record with the Better Business Bureau but with whom, since the sale, I have at least a couple of grievances.
So are car dealers deserving of our sympathy in their present situation of being forced to close by Chrysler and GM? Maybe I can't give a good reason why, but I do feel sorry for them. The GM dealers are getting quite a bit of notice, but the Chrysler dealers are not. They have to close on short notice, and Chrysler won't take back the cars. (What will happen to all those cars in the dealers' possession? My guess is that they'll be sold to car auction outfits. Some lucky buyers will probably get good deals on new, '09 Chrysler cars.)
I guess I was somewhat moved by a segment on TV that showed a Chrysler dealership here in Chicago that had been started in the 1930's by a Lithuanian immigrant who still is involved in it—along with his children and grandchildren. It's one of those American success stories that get woven into the mythology of what America is. So—the end of an era. Can’t help but think it's sad.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Be Sure to Buy That Big SUV
Big SUVs have been heavily discounted by dealers. It's supply and demand, no one—at least no one sensible—wants them. So you've got this person who says to himself, "Well, I can buy that TailGrazer (or Exhibitionist or GM Ginormous) for $38,000 instead of $45,000, and gas prices have been much lower—so I think I'll go for it!"
Well, aside from the fact that the people buying and driving those monsters are helping to destroy the planet, they're going to find that they were short-sighted. Out my window I can see a gas station, with its price sign, so I can keeps tabs on the price of gas. A couple days ago the price went up 20¢-- and it was Monday, not Tuesday, when they usually raise their prices. It's up to $2.659 for regular now. I bought gas last week for $2.24, and it's only been a few weeks since it was $2.11.
Now that we're in sight of $3 a gallon again, can $4 be far behind? Woe be to him who thinks for a moment, It won't happen again.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
Well, aside from the fact that the people buying and driving those monsters are helping to destroy the planet, they're going to find that they were short-sighted. Out my window I can see a gas station, with its price sign, so I can keeps tabs on the price of gas. A couple days ago the price went up 20¢-- and it was Monday, not Tuesday, when they usually raise their prices. It's up to $2.659 for regular now. I bought gas last week for $2.24, and it's only been a few weeks since it was $2.11.
Now that we're in sight of $3 a gallon again, can $4 be far behind? Woe be to him who thinks for a moment, It won't happen again.
Copyright © 2009 by Richard Stein
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