Addiction

ESPN's Page 2 had a tribute to Len Bias today. All three articles were well done and challenging. You should read them. (I am not going to link to them, because they will change tomorrow. Go to Page 2 and find them yourself. No one will read them anyway.)


I do not remember Len Bias. I was five years old.

I do remember my grandfather.

My grandfather never said "thank you." He never said "sorry." He never had to. He did right. When you do right "thank you" and "sorry" make no sense. When you do right everyone appreciates your honesty.

I do not know if it was the Depression or World War II, but my grandfather was tough. He decided after WWII he could never work for anyone else. He started a trucking company. He had three sons, one before the war, two after the war. His wife was stricken with cancer when the youngest was six. He spent his limited fortunate trying to save her; he failed. He worked. He created new businesses. He made enough money. No adversary could stop him. He went through anything preventing his family's happiness. At seventy-two he still drove a truck. A six-foot four biker parked behind his truck while he was backing up. He jumped out ready to fight calling the biker every name in the book. He will be eighty-five in July. He is still mean and willing to fight. He is by far the toughest man I know.

He had a heart attack at seventy-five. The doctors told him to quit smoking. Sixty years of smoking had ruined his circulation. We thought he licked smoking like he had licked everything else. My family never saw him smoke for six months. He told everyone he quit smoking.

One afternoon I was standing at the screen door. My grandfather pulled into the driveway. He could not see me. But I saw him smoking a cigarette. I knew then, anything that powerful, anything powerful enough to make my Granddady lie and hide like a boy, could not be worth a damn. It was sad. I never told anyone, but in a month, his habit was in the open.

I do not care if smoking caused my grandfather's current health problems. I do not care what difference quitting smoking at seventy-five would have really made. Like my grandfather, I do not blame other people for my problems. I "do not back up when I could go forward." But I do not smoke.

I know cocaine and cigarettes are different. I know those same addictive qualities that kept my grandfather hooked on nicotine were part of his success. But every addict has to eventually face his addiction.

Robert Tracinski Questions The Morality Of Sacrifice

TIA Daily • June 19, 2006

The Suicide Bomb Morality

The Palestinian Example Should Cause Us to Question the Morality of Sacrifice

by Robert Tracinski

The West's conflict with Islamic terrorism is more than a "clash of civilizations." It is, at root, a moral clash between two world views and two moral models, a clash much wider and more important than any political conflict.

I was reminded of this by a brilliant observation in a recent column by Charles Krauthammer—an observation far more significant than Krauthammer himself seems prepared to recognize. Writing about the way in which Palestinians have consistently rejected every opportunity for statehood, peace, and prosperity, instead choosing constant warfare and destruction, he concludes: "This embrace of victimhood, of martyrdom, of blood and suffering, is the Palestinian disease."

This is indeed a dreadful disease—but doesn't Krauthammer realize that it is not limited to the Palestinians, that it is spread as an epidemic across the globe? Indeed, the only reason the Palestinian terror war enjoys such sympathy and tolerance throughout the world is because the worship of suffering is the world's disease, a very old affliction that has evaded our cultural immune system by disguising itself as a morality. That morality is accepted as uncontroversial in today's world, and you hear it, and probably nod in agreement, whenever someone tells you that self-sacrifice is the essence of moral virtue.

But isn't self-sacrifice—or, as Krauthammer puts it, "victimhood, martyrdom, blood and suffering"—the essence of the horrific plight the Palestinians have chosen for themselves? And shouldn't this make us question, at its very roots, the morality of self-sacrifice?

The Palestinians show us what a society based on sacrifice actually looks like, in its purest, most fanatical form. It is a society built around a single moral model: the suicide bomber, who is lionized on billboards, on television, in popular songs. And this is not just the propaganda of the corrupt Palestinian rulers. One of the delegates elected to the Palestinian parliament in the populist upsurge for Hamas was Umm Nidal, the "mother of martyrs," who has sent three of her sons to kill themselves in terrorist attacks on Israel, proclaiming that their "sacrifice…makes me happy." (She is not alone. For those who can stomach it, the Middle East Media Research Institute provides a transcript of a series of interviews with mothers of suicide bombers, in which they consistently say things like "I hope more of my sons will become martyrs.")

It is only by understanding this worship of the suicide bomber that one can understand the political choices made by the Palestinians. Taking the suicide bomber as their moral model, they seek to emulate his fate: in their lust to destroy Israel, they are willing to accept the utter destruction and collapse of their own society.

It is important to recognize that, aside from the cynicism of a few corrupt officials, for the great mass of Palestinians this worship of sacrifice is sincere and thoroughly un-self-interested. By rejecting every chance at peace and coexistence with Israel—breaking every truce and turning down every peace offer—they have lost everything and gained nothing. Their decisions are driven, not by any narrow, practical goal, but by a moral imperative: the morality of self-sacrifice.

Look to the other side of the security barrier and you see a very different society. While the Palestinians raise their children on visions of blood and murder, the Israelis—like us Americans—are largely preoccupied by the business of producing, creating, making a living. Consider, for example, the vast Gaza greenhouses handed over from the departing Israelis to the Palestinians. In the hands of the society that "made the desert bloom," these greenhouses produced millions of dollars worth of produce. Under Palestinian control, they were looted and their products have literally been left to rot.

As with the Cold War examples of East and West Berlin, Palestine and Israel offer side-by-side laboratories for opposing moralities. The contrast to America is even more vivid.

America is a nation founded, not on the ideal of self-sacrifice, but on the right to "the pursuit of happiness." When Alexis de Tocqueville visited America in 1832, he reported that the moral doctrine of "self-interest properly understood"—not hedonism, but a version of rational, benevolent self-interest—was "universally accepted": "You hear it as much from the poor as from the rich."

As a result, the distinctive model for American culture is not the suicide bomber but the "self-made man": the entrepreneur, the inventor, the person who achieves prosperity by hard work and ingenuity. Implicitly, we recognize that the proper business of life is not sacrifice but achievement. This is the actual code by which most Americans live.

The tragedy is that we don't recognize it.

In America, and around the world, we are still too morally intimidated by the traditional appeals to the virtue of sacrifice, or by the confused invocation of the "sacrifice" of our courageous soldiers—which fails to recognize that it is an act of the most profound self-interest to resist the rule of tyranny and terror.

And so we pay lip service to the nobility of sacrifice. This is what explains the decades-long tolerance of Palestinian bloodlust. If sacrifice, suffering, and victimhood are greater virtues than prosperity and achievement—well then, who can outdo the Palestinians?

This lip service to sacrifice also undercuts our certainty and moral clarity at home. British columnist Janet Daley, writing about Tony Blair's youthful fascination with Marxism, laments that the Conservatives haven't come up with a "morally attractive case for capitalism" despite the fact that "it is free markets that have delivered mass prosperity and personal self-fulfillment on a scale unprecedented in human history." But is this really such a mystery, when everyone denounces "selfishness," so that personal prosperity and "self-fulfillment" are viewed as morally unimportant at best and morally suspect at worst?

Only one prominent intellectual in the last century—Ayn Rand, the great intellectual defender of individualism and of rational self-interest—has been brave enough to name the moral lesson. Rejecting the morality of sacrifice, she declared that "The purpose of morality is to teach you, not to suffer and die, but to enjoy yourself and live," while in her classic novel The Fountainhead, her hero laments that "The world is perishing from an orgy of self-sacrificing." Ayn Rand remains a controversial figure, scoffed at by both left and right. But this phrase, "perishing from an orgy of self-sacrificing"—could there be a better description of the Palestinians' suicide bomb society?

Look at the horrific plight the Palestinians have chosen, and you will observe the real meaning of a culture of self-sacrifice. Look at America, by comparison, and you will see the real, life-affirming benevolence of a culture of rational self-interest.

The evidence is out there, and its moral lessons are clear—if only we are brave enough to learn from them.

Fathers' Day Or Leadbelly’s “The Bourgeois Blues” Or Why Planning Cannot Work

He remembered his father's smell. It was not pleasant, but it was not repulsive. It was sweat perspired because of work. It was honest. It was innocent. Many times it would be blended with celery he had cut to impress old ladies, to keep old bitches from complaining about dry stalk ends. “The old ladies keep this store afloat, son.”

He had not smelled that aroma for a long time. He could not remember the last time he perspired to the point where he radiated that sweet smell. He remembered when that smell came from him, it made him feel alive. It excited him like nothing else.

He would never sweat like his father. His father made sure his son would become someone who did not sweat. His father’s calculated toil was an investment in him. He would never have to work, and he would never have that honest innocent smell. Without it, his sons would miss something he could never teach with words.

Many of his colleagues did not understand that beautiful smell. Some lied and said they cared about people like his father, but without that smell, they could never understand the old man. Just like his father could never understand the liars.

He never understood the smell either, until he became used to not sweating. He hated the liars during his adolescence. He still hated them, but now, he was one of them. He got up every morning and lied, lied to himself, lied to his peers, and the most hurtful lies went to his father.

At least his father was satisfied.

Soccer Is Not Football

I enjoy World Cup soccer. But no matter what my Albanian colleague says, offsides is an unnecessary rule. The foul system is bullshit. No one person should have that much power. The players are too fast, and there are too many of them for one referee.

As for today's US result, all we (can I say we) did was tie. We outplayed the Italians and tied. I do not expect the US to beat Ghana. Soccer is a bigger crapshoot than baseball. Tournament systems put a premium on luck. After today, the US cannot get any luckier. But what do I know?

I want to post about how reactionary most people are and how being reactionary is a bad thing, but I just posted about US soccer. I think discrediting reactionaries would be hypocritical.

Nothing Ever Changes

I wrote this post in December.

For the past week, I have been saying "everything is going to be okay."

It will be, no matter what happens.

Graduate school has taught me most intelligent people are confused. They do not know what they want.

Some buy into academia. They buy into what everyone else is doing. The curiosity that got them to graduate school is crushed under the weight of convention. Their ambition to change the world trickles into publishing meaningless papers and getting tenure.

Some waste time. They know academia leads nowhere. But it strokes their curiosity. It allows them to postpone finding what they want for a few years. But eventually they have to get jobs. Their ambition to change the world trickles into working 50 hours a week doing something. It does not matter what as long as it is something.

The whole thing is sad, very sad.

International Colleagues

An Indian (not a Native American, an Indian) orders a steak. The waitress asks, "How would you like it?"

There is two minutes of silence. The Indian is confused. I am covering my mouth trying not to laugh out loud. The waitress is clueless. The Indian asks, "How do most people get it?"

Since we are eating a working class buffet where the steaks are questionable she answers "Well."

"Medium," the Indian responds.


I take three colleagues to Subway for their first time. "How long is footlong?" "Provolone, cheddar or American?" "Swiss." "Do you want your sub toasted?" "No." "I do not like cold subs."

It was a complete disaster. You had to be there.


The Indian colleague says all country songs refer to Kentucky. "What is Kentucky? Some mythical place or something?"

I respond all Indian music involves chanting. This response sets off a mini-argument I do not care to repeat.

Most smart people observe stereotyping in others. They do not observe it in themselves.

A Sad Thing

I am walking into my building. A stray kitten purrs and rubs against my leg. It is skinny but soft. It tries to get in the building, but I do not let it.

I do not like cats. I am a dog person. But I hate knowing some dumb kid bought a living thing and could not find it in their heart to keep it fed. I hate living in a world where future bureaucrats and 'civic leaders' waste a kitten's life. I am jumping to conclusions about where the kitten came from, but it reminded me how imperfect this world is.

Against my better judgment, I pour a bowl of soy milk. I walk back out, but I cannot find the kitten. Someone was walking their dog, so it probably hid.

What can I do?

My Day

"Three o'clock struck, and four, and the half-hour rang its double chime, but Dorian Gray did not stir. He was trying to gather up the scarlet threads of life, and to weave them into a pattern; to find his way through the sanguine labyrinth of passion through which he was wandering. He did not know what to do or think...There is luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves we feel that no one else has a right to blame us. It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution. .."

From Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray

"'Cause time goes by like pouring rain, and much faster things" from The Allman Brothers Band's "Ain't Wastin' Time No More"

What I Have Lost

I have no desire to learn.

I dislike people who refuse to open their mind, people who refuse to see "what is not seen," people who take life on faith.

I have become one of those people.

I Was Born At 11:36PM

I am less depressed.

I created a new Wiffle Ball game. I hit the ball across a lighted empty parking lot. I run (I cannot sprint) after the ball then I hit it back. It sounds depressing, but it was fun while I was playing. The sad part is I missed the ball more than once. I have to get my eye back.

I bought a decent bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. A couple of glasses relaxed me.

A Third Of The Way Through

Today I turned twenty five. Yesterday I was mildly depressed. Realizing it was my birthday upgraded me to moderately depressed.

I figure I have at most fifty good years left. I cannot imagine accomplishing anything I think is important today in those fifty years. At seventy five I might be mildly happy with what I accomplished. But by then I will be justifying my existence. Probably very few people meet the expectations they have at twenty five, but this realization does not make me feel any better.

ML told me we eventually have to draw a line in the sand. We make a decision and stand by it. We decide to live a life, and we live that life. We leave the fiction of youth and enter reality. Jeff has been telling GGM, Sam, and I this for months.

But I cannot buy it yet. I am still young enough to enjoy fiction.

I intentionally try not to tell people my birthday. It is just another day. I try to abstain from self-worship. I cannot remember anyone else's birthday. If they remember mine, it makes me feel guilty.

Jeff, my mother, other colleagues I suffered with this year, and my aunt remembered. I am going to have to start keeping a calendar. All neuroticism aside, I appreciate people remembering, and I need to do a better job of it myself.

Three Good Reads

Here is an uplifting post from Jeff.

Don Boudreaux gives his history.

Bryan Caplan gives his intellectual history.

American Agriculture

American agriculture is productive. We have big farms producing foodstuffs like factories. We have realized economies of scale. We have the best tractors, storage facilities, managers, and middle men. American agriculture is a success.

Why does the collective feel the need to subsidize American agriculture? Why are farmers so important?

A picture hangs in my office of Amtrak workers carrying picket signs saying "Fund Amtrak: America needs Trains." As stupid as those signs are, I sympathize with those workers more than I do farmers. Amtrak is so shitty it could not survive without government subsidy. Farmers can survive.

Depression

In the evening's fading light,
The heat of early summer surrounds
I try to escape

Like my past,
The heat stays for the moment's eternity

I wonder why I strive
I wonder why I care
I wonder why

Is it anger?
Is it intellect?
Is it company?

Sometimes I feel like dying
"Let that old freight train pacify my mind"

But I choose life
I choose to fight
I choose to struggle
I choose

But the heat infiltrates me
It kills my will
And I choose to sleep

Dedication

To all the fuckers who would not get out of my way

To all the opportunities missed

To my strengths which there are few

To my weaknesses which there are many

Greatness has never been achieved in a classroom. Reading is masturbation. It is something you do to maintain sanity.

"Omit Needless Words! Omit Needless Words! Omit Needless Word!"*

Posters cover the walls in the College of Agriculture and Life Sciences. Professionals in the College's media and public relations wing create some. Others are designed by students. Very few follow Strunk and White's "omit needless words" rule. They have little to say but fill up the poster. Many have pretty pictures but say nothing.

The biggest problem I have with the posters is they assume entitlement. One poster advertises a company which helps business get government subsidies. Other posters champion government agriculture programs. Whether these explicit or implicit subsides should exist is never questioned. Neither the College nor the College's students question the College's existence. The college and agricultural rural subsidies exist, therefore they must be right. Stopthink rules the College.

There is a scene in Sophie Scholl where the judge calls the three student protesters ingrates. NAZI Germany paid for their education but they still tried to destroy NAZI Germany. People can say the same about me.

The three student protesters were right, and so am I.

*adapted from Strunk and White's The Elements of Style

The Challenge

It is 12:08AM Friday morning. I have finished reading The Fountainhead. It talks about what men should be. Not what they are, but what they should be.

How am I going to react?

The beauty of life is we will have to wait and see.

U2's "Are You Going To Wait Forever?"

You cannot understand society until you appreciate eating alone. Sitting by yourself with only food to keep you company is where you discover if you like yourself or not. If you cannot survive eating alone, you will never be happy. You will waste your life at dinner parties avoiding yourself.

It is all about yourself. You cannot live for other people. You cannot live for society. You have to live for yourself. You have to want to live. You have to want.

I am not saying there is no such thing as love. I am not saying material possessions do not matter. But you have to want someone or something before they have meaning.

Many people go through life never wanting. They react. They do what they are supposed to do. They rarely eat alone.

(Yes, I am reading Rand's The Fountainhead.)

"The Sun Came Up With No Conclusions"*

I went home this weekend. I worked at the grocery store. I filled the produce and beer. It emptied. I filled it again. There is no better feeling in the world.

I told a colleague. He said, "Yeah, mindless work is good every now and then."

It was not mindless. Writing this blog is mindless. Studying for meaningless exams is mindless. Doing what everyone else is doing is mindless. Honest work is never mindless.

My father told me he was disappointed I went to graduate school. I knew he was, but he never told me. It bothers him he cannot understand what I am doing. It bothers him I have produced nothing. It bothers me too.

*from Bright Eyes' "Road to Joy"

"What Is Seen And What Is Not Seen"

The following is my response to an article ML's sister sent to her. The article by Michael Ventura gave statistics and asked if America was still number one.


This article discusses what is. I do not care if the statistics are correct. Statistics cannot determine what should be. God does not care about statistics. He does not need to guess.

One cannot look at statistics and decide the way a country should be governed. The founding fathers had no statistics. They did a fine job building a country around ideals not emotional reactions to leading statistics. Statistics provide information, but they must be examined critically.

The most important thing economics teaches is there are two parties to every transaction. The trade and debt statistics the article cites means very little. Everything must equal zero in the end. China is not giving the US cheap goods for free. They are investing in the US. They think these investments are going to pay off. Who are we to disagree with them? The same can be said about private debt. The credit card companies expect the money to be paid back. Nobody makes loans without expecting to get paid back. Both debtors and their creditors think these loans are worth it. Don't you think the individuals involved in the transaction know the worthiness of these loans better than we do?

Here is the choice the world has to make:

We can either reject or champion individual liberty.

The U.S. has championed individual liberty for hundreds of years. The US has no national healthcare, because national healthcare rejects individual liberty. It makes people conform. The healthy subsidizes the sick. A non-smoker pays the same fees as a smoker. A doctor studies for ten years and has his income limited by the state. The incentives for new medicines and procedures are determined by the state. People wait in line. People die while they are waiting. National healthcare contradicts Americans' ideals.

Individual liberty requires people to make decisions for themselves. Some decisions are tough. Some families forfeit health care in favor of food and shelter. But it is their decision. Their lives are not put in the hands of some bureaucrat like ourselves.

The major flaw of the article is it accepts the myth of regional economics. Countries cannot compete. The US is not competing with Europe. Individual citizens compete. Some Americans (like ourselves) are moving up the social scale. Some are not. Do we spend all our money, time, and effort on those who are not? Or, do we get out of the way of those who are?

Sophie Scholl - The Final Days

Because I am a petty asshole I feel the need to reiterate my criticism of Thank You For Smoking. Rand's quote from the last post captured what I thought about Thank You For Smoking. It was good trash. But it was still trash.

Tonight I saw Sophie Scholl - The Final Days. It captured everything a movie should be. (I cried. I have never cried at a movie in my life.) It was about people who refused to let what is stand in the way of what should be. It was about people who saw through spin and decided to fight against it. People who refused to accept bullshit.

I dare anyone to watch Sophie Scholl - The Final Days and say Thank You For Smoking was a good movie.

A Quote From Ms. Rand

"Its enormous headlines, glaring pictures, and oversimplified text hit the senses and entered men's consciousness without any necessity for an intermediary process of reason, like food shot through the rectum, requiring no digestion." from Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead

This quote sums up what separates good art from bad art. Anyone can make porn. It takes someone special to make something good.

What I Want To Do

I want to show indifference matters. Indifferent people recognize only individuals act. They do not worry about others. They do not get in others' way. America's greatness stems from Americans being indifferent to one another. Americans get out of each others' way.

I want to make a movie entitled Michael and Me. It will parody Roger and Me. The premise will be myself searching for Michael Moore. I will lampoon him like he lampooned Roger Smith, Phil Knight, Charlton Heston, and G.W. Bush. I will show Michael Moore has no ideals. I will show Michael Moore stands for nothing. I will show laughter by itself does not mean anything.

I want to read books and listen to music.

I want to eat tons of dark chocolate.

I want to avoid work as long as possible.

I want to create.

Movie Review

Thank You For Smoking is superficial. It does not deeply examine anything. It bitches and complains without suggestion. It is like me.

It refuses ideals in favor of in-betweens.

Smoking, drinking, guns, and causal sex can be bad for you. Limiting personal freedom is also dangerous.

What is the answer? Thank You For Smoking does not care. Answers do not matter. Answers prevent complaining and suggests action. Complaining makes us happy. Action reminds us of work. Discovering answers is hard work.

Thank You For Smoking encompasses everything wrong with America. Yes, it is funny. But in the end it makes one sad.

I give it a 31.342.

My Economics

Input Payments

1. Land receives rent.
2. Capital receives interest.
3. Labor receives wages.
4. Entrepreneurship receives profit.

(Perfect) Competition

Principles Concept
Perfect competition requires output revenue equaling input cost. It does not require zero profit. It requires the sum of rent, interest, wages, and profit to equal zero. Using this framework, the operating system market could be in perfect competition. The profit Bill Gates receives could be required for his entrepreneurship.

Intermediate Concept
Perfect competition has no bearing on society. It is an abstraction that can be applied to every market. It teaches competition can secure an outcome where laborers, stockholders, and landowners, and entrepreneurs are paid their market value. It says nothing about "fairness."

Competition creates market values. What these market values mean is debatable.

Advanced Concept
Market values are fair values. Laborers, stockholders, landowners and entrepreneurs are paid their worth. Individuals not happy with their allotment can change. Laborers can move to different jobs or become stockholders or landowners. Individuals make their own decisions. Individuals making their own decisions is proper.

But perfect competition only occurs in a society free of government intrusion...

"Mr. Natural! What Does It All Mean? Don't Mean Sheeit..."

I had one of those conversations today. One where you realize your lack of intelligence. One where you see other people have thought as long and hard as you but came to different conclusions. At first it is depressing. You come back to Earth with a crash. But then it puts life in perspective.

I am insignificant. If I die tonight, the world would neither be a better nor worse place. I am the falling tree in the forest no one hears. I do not matter. Very few do.

I am not saying I have no responsibility. I am not saying I should go on a murderous rampage. I cannot ignore problems, but I have to look for solutions with the foresight I will probably not find them.

I keep coming back to the same issues.

"The best thing you have ever done for me is to help me to take my life seriously."~Indigo Girls' "Closer to Fine"

Gordon, Jennifer, And Kevin

A selection from Gordon Lightfoot's "Apology"

"I remember all those lines
Givin' me direction
Gather not your gold on earth
It will not pass inspection

And still I think when I'm alone
Away from all night splendor
If gold could buy one night with her
I wish I had some to send her"

I watched Rumor Has It Tuesday night. I did not sleep during the movie. I laughed. I was separated from my sorrows for two hours. As my father says, it was entertainment.

But I could not leave it alone. I had to think about the movie, even though the movie did not ask for thought.

The movie was about the struggle between doing right and doing wrong. It was about flawed characters who did wrong and the people who allowed them to do wrong. The message was as long as you repent, all sins should be forgiven. Humans cannot act rationally and that is okay.

Of course I do not agree with any of the movie's premises, but I recognize the struggle.

So there is two things I got from the movie. First it was not a bad movie. Second I have to learn how to keep my mouth shut and stop bothering people with my interpretations of mediocre movies.

The Inability To Finish

I cannot finish. I am good at starting. I am good at getting half-way through. But I cannot finish.

I have not finished cleaning my office. It was too great a task to do everything I wanted to do, but I started and failed to finish.

I started cleaning my apartment. I have not finished. I will probably finish tonight but only because I have to.
ML told me a story about her nephew wanting to quit once he was losing a board game. His father would not let him. My father would not let me. But I hit reset on the Nintendo more than once when he was not looking.

It is about want. I do not want to finish. I thought I wanted a clean office, but I do not. I thought I wanted a PhD in economics, but I do not.

Sometimes finishing means quitting. Sometimes finishing means getting the hell out of Dodge. (With apologies to Rand) sometimes it means compromise.

The Tears Will Not Come

I remember the horror movie
I remember being scared
I remember being paralyzed
But I was a dumb kid

Now,
Nightmares mean very little
But the daytime is frightening
The computer screen
The office
The possibility of failure
Scare me
Like I was a dumb kid

My stomach twists
My mind warps
My idea disappears

Ignorance cannot comfort

I look for love
All I find is me

Economics In Strange Places

"Good resolutions are useless attempts to interfere with scientific laws. Their origin is pure vanity. Their result is absolutely nil. They give us, now and then, some of those luxurious sterile emotions that have a certain charm for the weak. That is all that can be said for them. They are simply cheques that men draw on a bank where they have no account."

No this quote did not come from Hayek. It came from Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray (104). Wilde puts it better than Hayek. Good intentions pave the road to hell. Good intentions are lies bureaucrats like myself and my colleagues tell ourselves to justify our plunder.

"The One Charm Of The Past Is That It Is The Past"*

I have spent three days acting like I wanted to clean my office. It is a bigger mess now than it was before I started.

I have too many meaningless books.

My dream has always been a beach house with a massive library. I would sit on the beach reading books. Every now and then I would write down an idea. But mostly I would read.

I am tired of worrying. I am going to stop.

"The one charm of the past is that it is the past."

*Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray

Thank You Ms. Rand And Mr. Mises

Suddenly it became clear
No more fear
In himself,
He held the all the power needed

He could sit
He could sleep
He could act

All those walls he was so intent on tearing down
Crumbled

He was finally able to hope
Finally see a light
Even if he did not recognize the tunnel

To Spalding Gray

Went to church looking for Truth
All I found was a congregation

Went to university looking for reason
All I found were obstacles

Went to a woman looking for spirituality
All I found was tension

Went to a hospital looking for healing
All I found was greed

Went to the river looking for a sliver of hope
And I found it

The waters flowed without care
Did not give a damn about fair
Or the lack of hair,
Or money,
Or churches,
Or schools,
Or women,
Or hospitals

If it flooded
People scurried

If it dried
People cried

It always won

I jumped in because of hope
But when I emerged my sins still perspired from my soul

I knew I was not the river
I felt empty
I wanted to run
I wanted to hide

But all I could do
Was "wholeheartedly accept the struggle"

And again it began
Longing for something not there

Calming Down

Lately I have been wondering about my calling in life. What am I supposed to be doing?

On my chalkboard I have written, "While you are figuring life out, you have to do something." I wrote it a month ago. I wrote it because I was not doing anything. I have not done anything since I wrote it.

When I start thinking this way I go through my idea folder. Today I was looking for something I wrote about the philosophy of science. I could not find it , but I said something like "the philosophy of science cannot be discussed until the question of the public classroom is addressed."

I did find this:

The individual is a perfectionist. He is an idealist with a clear vision.

But once the individual develops colleagues, once he forms his cartel, his regression begins. He tries to make decisions in the best interest of the group. His new vision is murky. He quickly becomes a "realist."

Public goods are a myth. There is "no best interest of the group." There is only my interest.

This does not answer my original question, but I thought it was relevant.

Here is a previous post about what I want to do.

A blog is an online idea folder.

While I am figuring life out, I have to do something.

I am going to study.

"You Gotta Make A Decision. You Leave Tonight Or Live And Die This Way."*

Last night I convinced myself this summer would be great. I would make it great, the summer of WB.

This morning I knew the summer will not be great.

I am still young, dumb, and full of cum. I still have no idea of what I am doing. I cannot find the courage to pass a test. I cannot find the courage to quit playing children's games. I cannot find the courage to make a decision.

But when you are old past summers always seem great. Time has a way of erasing the bad and highlighting the good. If this manipulation is good, bad, or meaningless, I do not know. But when I am 35 and have to really work, this summer will be great.

For some strange reason I take solace in this fact.


*From Tracy Chapman's "Fast Car"

Something

Cheap toilet paper should be banned. I know this complaint goes against my libertarian ethic (and I do not really believe it), but cheap toilet paper is inefficient, ineffective, and makes your ass hurt.


Conversation at the campus bus stop at 12:15AM:

Asian girl: "Did you just come from class?"

Me: "No, I am a graduate student studying for an exam. Did you come from class?"

Asian girl: "No, I was just making a pass."

She might have said "guess," but "pass" is a better story.


A drunk English major told who wanted to get a PhD and write a novel said his favorite author was John Grisham. I immediately went on a tirade about my Rules of Reading. (I cannot wait to read his novel.)


Three words for Ultimate Frisbee: two point play. I can only imagine the excitement that would bring after touchdowns.

Success

I have read about early-life crises. Twenty-something who wake up and feel they have no direction at all. They wake up feeling alienated from the world. They wake up feeling everything they have been taught is a lie.

These questions can be seen in Stat Boy's post and my previous posts. I do not think I am in a crisis. I am just tired of struggling to figure things out.

I have spent half of my life redefining greatness. I have no idea of what I want. I know things I do not want, but elimination does not give any satisfactory answers until you eliminate everything else.

But here is my reply to Stat Boy: Success is not publishing meaningless papers in meaningless journals. Success is not being mediocre in a mediocre job. Success is not superficial. Success is deep. Success is waking up and doing what you want.

You have to know what you want before you can be successful.

Read This

Boudreaux at Cafe Hayek does it again.

accountability

Does a publication make a man? It is production or rather a distribution of ideas or information? Is building a wall for our southern border a symbol of communism? Is it a barrier of ideals? You know what I heard today...when asked if my instructor teaches his private sector "boot camp" class any different than his USDA gym class, he said that the intensity is not much different but he holds the private sector more accountable for their actions. By this he said that "if they are late, they do push-ups" and "they monitor what each individual eats". what does this say about the perception of government "people"? If we cannot hold the person accountable, how can we hold an agency or dept. accountable for their actions? I found myself feeling shameful and pathetic. I gotta do some work.

Sam's State of Economics

Here it is.

I am glad Sam finally recognized the didactic value of economics, but his faith in statistics is depressing.

Here is my oringinal post.

Fairfax Road Time Check

There they sat
Riding home
Well,
A place to sleep
Was he in love?
Was she?
Did it matter?
They would sleep together
Was that good enough?
It was tonight

Increasing Returns To Scale And The State Of Economics

My father started working at a small town grocery store twenty-five years ago. He managed a produce department that sold around twenty in-season fruits and vegetables. He struggled to feed my mother, sister and I.

The town grew and became a de facto suburb of Charlottesville (and Washington and New York). At first $20,000 was a good week for the store. Today $20,000 is a mediocre day. My father now sells over a hundred products. Very few are seasonal. He also owns a video store, four vehicles, and has put two children through private colleges.

The causes of his success are numerous. My grandfather taught him a tireless work ethic. He was lucky. He was on the right side of pecuniary externalities. But some of his success has to do with increasing returns to scale. Some of it has to do with specialization and the expansion of the market. I asked him if he could have imagined his today twenty five years ago. He answered "no."

I asked a colleague who I respect if we could "model" my father's progression. She said, "Of course we can." I do not know if this arrogance is encouraging or discouraging.

To her the model was important. My father's story was not. His success had no economic interpretation without calculus. Economists should tell mathematical stories not anecdotal ones.

I see her as making the same mistake the Soviet Union did. I see her ambition standing in the way of an important insight. She will never fully understand the importance of increasing returns to scale, specialization, and human achievement without appreciating my father's story.

Models are an abstract teaching tool. They are not economics. They are not life.

A Seminar Or A Circle Jerk

I sat in a public room built by public dollars. I was surrounded by public servants given public missions. I listened to a public man spouting a private idea. An idea that privately aroused him and his public fellows. I saw the private stimulation.

I wondered how the public would have felt. Because I felt dirty.

Ultimate Frisbee

I have never played Ultimate Frisbee. I do not plan to play Ultimate Frisbee. I enjoy watching it as I go to class. So, I am going to propose a few rule changes.

1. The frisbee should be live (either team can gain control) after the throw-off has passed mid-field. This rule would add excitement and strategy to throw-offs.

2. Players who caught the frisbee should be able to run backwards (behind the line of the catch)and sideways (parallel with line of the catch) with the frisbee. Even basketball players are allowed to dribble. You cannot advance the frisbee with your feet, but some movement could create the separation needed to make a successful throw.

3. There should be a touchback rule. If a player drops the frisbee in the defenders' endzone (a catch would have resulted in a score), the defending team should be able to start outside of their own endzone (a fifth to a third of the length of the field). This rule could be extended to throw-offs making the throw-off even more exciting.

4. There should be a punt rule. A backed-up team should be able to throw the frisbee down the field. The punting team could not recover the frisbee until the receiving team had control. The number of punts per game could be limited.

This list is the second most pompous thing I have done, but I received an Email from James (Jim) Buchanan. So, my ego has been stoked for no justifiable reason.

Oscar Wilde's The Picture Of Dorian Gray

I read Dorian Gray in high school. I could not appreciate it. I started it again today. I like it much better now. I did not want to stop reading. Of course I only finished fifteen pages before duty (meaningless schoolwork) called, but I cannot wait to get back to Victorian England.

Sidenote: Neoclassical economics was created to justify Victorian England.

"...there is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about." (page 4)

My rules of reading:

1. Minimize reading works written in your lifetime. You have lived it. There is no reason to read about it.

2. Read classics. Those who have read the classics separate themselves from those who only know the classics. (Those who do not know the classics are the luckiest people on Earth.)

3. Do not limit yourself. The scientist learns from fiction. The poet learns from science.

4. If you do not like something or do not have time to really read it, stop reading. Reading a bad book is masturbation without climax. What is the point? (My Dad says, "if it ain't worth a fuck leave it on the truck.") You can come back to good books (like Dorian Gray).

5. Always have books you want to read nearby. You never know when you will get a chance to read.

This list is by far the most pompous thing I have ever done. As James Buchanan said in the seminar last week, "Frankly, I don't give a God damn."

A Way Of Thinking

My definition of economics is different than my colleagues.

I have been to seven seminars in seven days. I have heard seven different definitions of economics. I have not agreed with any of them.

Economics is a way of thinking. A way to see the world. It is not about numbers or money. It is about people. It is about right and wrong. It is philosophy not science.

Economics only sees individuals. Only indiviudals act. I wake up in the morning. I eat. I sleep. I die. Economics does not deny peer pressure or environmental effects, but indviduals decide to accept peer pressure and environments. Only an individual acts.

Economics sees the grandness of human achievement. Fifty years ago there were no laptops, no internet porn, no highly efficent cars. No matter what some of my colleagues say; there was nothing. Fifty years from now our children will say we had nothing. Economists recognize development depends on indiviudal achievement. They recognize the importance of innovative individuals who refuse to allow constraints to impede them.

Economics is not what economists do. One thing I have learned from economics is academic economists are not required. Good economists are philosophers. They teach well. They are entrepreneurs who understand humanity. They approach life with the economic way of thinking. They use reason to solve problems.

For economics to progress we have to teach the economic way of thinking. We cannot continue to do what other economists do. We have to solve problems not describe them. We have to destroy constraints not define them. We have to practice the economic way of thinking.

"But Leave Your Mind Alone And Just Get High"*

I have been to five seminars in a week.

From the first one I learned marketing students do not know anything about selling. They use fake numbers, over-plan the unimportant, and then pray everything works.

From the second one I learned Masters' students cannot do good work. They have neither the skills nor the time. A Masters' thesis becomes one big compromise.

From the third one I learned one has to do his own talking. When you put it on someone else, things turn out badly. I also learned that playing to an audience will blow up in your face. There can be no compromise on basic ideals.

From the fourth one I learned there are two ways to look at a problem: You can blame other people. Or, you can look inside yourself and fix the problem. "Fix the problem then the blame," has been my Dad's motto for years. It is a good one.

From the fifth one (really a combination of all five) I learned economists have failed to teach anyone anything. Most people do not understand basic economic concepts.

*"Ain't Wastin' Time No More" by The Allman Brothers Band

I Love Economics

I really love economics. I love it so much that I cannot stand to see what it has become. I cannot stand to see how little we have taught the world. I cannot stand to see how little we have done to make the world a better place. I cannot stand the ego of economists.

The question becomes: What am I going to do about it?

Things I Have Heard From Economics' Graduate Students

After reading the story about the middle school teacher who had sex with a student 28 times in one week:

American student to Chinese student: "Have you had sex 28 times in a year?"

Chinese student deadpans: "I had more sex as an undergrad than now."
(This one was much funnier in person.)


Talking about an economics' professor:

Iranian student: "What was God thinking? What a waste of potential..."


Sitting in a seminar room:

Professor: "I still haven't graded your exam."

American student: "I survived a heart attack. I will survive your grade."

"A Place That Has To Be Believed Before It Can Be Seen"*

Everlasting life is a great concept.

It made life easier and more difficult. It gave us an incentive to live and to die.

Heaven is a brilliant thought.

*U2's "Walk On"

What Is My Essence?

I love the daytime;
When it is raining

"Sleep comes like a drug"
Because of fatigue or boredom;
When it is raining

The lightening strikes
The thunder cracks;
When it is raining

I look out the window
I look for something;
When it is raining

I see God's tears
I hear God's screams;
When it is raining

I see rebirth and forgiveness
I see the winter coming to an end;
When it is raining

I see myself
I see the glory involved in living;
When it is raining

The rain stops
And I am still here

Sarah Vaughan Singing "Send In The Clowns"

Every now and then something excites me. The feeling rarely lasts. But for a while, I feel alive.

I stole an average grade on a test. I ran across the drillfield. I had stole something. People run when they steal.

It was just an average grade but I felt like the world was okay.

The grade was not important. It was the realization that grades and professors cannot control my life. It was the realization that I am my only judge.

Before the class, I had basically wallowed in my loneliness (thanks for listening ML). I saw life as hopeless. I faked a few smiles and a conversation, but I was dead inside, completely dead.

But I will wake up tomorrow. I have no idea if this a good or bad thing, but waking up is better than the alternative.

Playing It Cool Or What Is An Aggregate Measure Of Risk Aversion?

Life was going good. I lifted lower body for the first time in a month. I had an idea. I had a good conversation. I had an interesting class. I wasted a couple of hours without guilt. I had two more intelligent conversations about life. Life was alright.

Then something stupid (so stupid I am not going to write it down) happened, and I wanted to cut someone from ear to ear. All the doubt, all the fear, all the guilt, all the "second hand" emotions came at once to expel my satisfaction. I had to throw something to keep from crying.

I rode the bus home. I was mad. Then I talked to my Chinese office mate, and I realized I had no reason to be mad.

Now all I can think is "do something." Do something. While I am figuring life out, I have to do something.

Love At The Draper Road Laundry

East Versus West

There you are:

A beauty who survived the East

There you are:

Allowing my eyes to feast

I wonder:

If this will be the only time

My soul will see the light

You shine

I wonder:

If you see me sitting here

Dreaming of an US

That cannot exist

Sun In My Eyes

Why do you hide?

Your hat pulled down

Blocking your beauty

But I see it

No matter your disguise

I see it

I do not know why you are scared

I wish I could relieve your fear

I wish I could tell you:

How beautiful you are

How that hat hides nothing

Young, Intelligent, And Beautiful

Graduate school (and college in general) introduces you to many young, intelligent, and beautiful people: driven people who want to make a difference, angry people who want change, privileged people who take care of themselves, and lost people looking for answers.

The problem is young and intelligent people do not enjoy being around other young and intelligent people. There are good conversations, but most of the time, there is a competitive struggle raging.

The struggle is always about sex, pride, or some other "second hand" emotion. It is never about anything important. There is no hunger in graduate school. There is no lack of shelter. There is no persecution. There is nothing worth fighting about in graduate school.

The struggle is contrived. It is not necessary. It makes life harder than it could be. Rand's "...there is no conflict of interests among men..."

I am not saying competition is a bad thing. I am saying competition should be internal and benevolent. I do not want to get a high grade because of my colleagues, but I want to get a high grade for myself. I want to succeed not in spite of my colleagues but for me. My colleagues' and my success is independent. Our relationship should be mutually beneficial not mutually destructive.

Young, intelligent, and beautiful people working together is a beautiful thing. It is what makes a difference, causes change, teaches one to take care of themselves, and answers questions.

(Why did I write this crap?)

U2's "Please" And"Stay (Faraway, So Close!)"

Please

So you never knew love
Until you crossed the line of grace
And you never felt wanted
Till you had someone slap your face
So you never felt alive
Until you almost wasted away

You had to win, you couldn't just pass
The smartest ass at the top of the class
Your flying colours, your family tree
And all your lessons in history

Please, please, please
Get up off your knees
Please, please, please
Please

So you never knew how low you'd stoop
To make that call
And you never knew what was on the ground
Until they made you crawl
So you never knew that the heaven you keep
You stole

Your Catholic blues, your convent shoes
Your stick-on tattoos, now they're making the news
Your holy war, your northern star
Your sermon on the mount from the boot of your car

Please, please, please
Get up off your knees
Please, please
Leave me out of this mess

So love is hard and love is tough
But love is not what you're thinking of
September, streets capsizing
Spilling over, down the drain
Shards of glass, splinters like rain
But you could only feel your own pain
October, talk getting nowhere
November, December
Remember, are we just starting again

Please, please, please
Get up off your knees
Please, please, please
Please
So love is big, it's bigger than us
But love is not what you're thinking of
It's what lovers deal, it's what lovers steal
You know I found it hard to recieve
'Cause you, my love, I could never believe

Stay (Faraway, So Close!)

Green light, Seven Eleven
You stop in for a pack of cigarettes
You don't smoke, don't even want to
Hey now, check your change
Dressed up like a car crash
Your wheels are turning but you're upside down
You say when he hits you, you don't mind
Because when he hurts you, you feel alive
Hey babe, is that what it is

Red lights, gray morning
You stumble out of a hole in the ground
A vampire or a victim
It depend's on who's around
You used to stay in to watch the adverts
You could lip synch to the talk shows

And if you look, you look through me
And when you talk, you talk at me
And when I touch you, you don't feel a thing

If I could stay...
Then the night would give you up
Stay...and the day would keep its trust
Stay...and the night would be enough

Faraway, so close
Up with the static and the radio
With satelite television
You can go anywhere
Miami, New Orleans
London, Belfast and Berlin

And if you listen I can't call
And if you jump, you just might fall
And if you shout, I'll only hear you

If I could stay...
Then the night would give you up
Stay...then the day would keep its trust
Stay...with the demons you drowned
Stay...with the spirit I found
Stay...and the night would be enough

Three o'clock in the morning
It's quiet and there's no one around
Just the bang and the clatter
As an angel runs to ground

Just the bang
And the clatter
As an angel
Hits the ground

My Day

I am not cut out for a PhD in economics. I do not know what I am going to do about it, but realizing is the first step.

I ate at a Chinese buffet with three Chinese guys and and an Iranian. My grandfather could never have imagined that scene when he was killing NAZIs. He could never have imagined that scene when he was driving a truck to clothe my father. My father could never imagine that scene when I was born. He could never have imagined that scene when they told him I was too slow for kindegarten. You cannot predict (plan) life. My studies have been good for me.

I helped one of the Chinese guys move a bookshelf. I wish my father (or my sister or mother for that matter) was there to help me. Height and strength moves bookshelves better than calculus.

I ate a decent pizza and drinked good beer. I liked the beer better than the pizza. This preference scares the hell out of me.

I got an Email and a comment which showed I have to be more honest with people.

I have been listening to Billie Holliday. Now she was honest.

(The Braves have no pitching. Was Leo the difference?)

April 15

Rainy day
In the office
Thinking of you
In your office
Wishing the rain would go away
On this rainy day

The last time I saw your face
Was a dreary afternoon in the month of May
All I wanted was to get out of there
Run like hell to some place new
Not better, but new

I guess I never took the time to care about what you wanted
It didn't mean enough to me
All I wanted was to be free

I have no regrets
That time is over
All we have is now and tomorrow
Who cares what might have been?
All that matters is:
What will be?

I don't have time for fiction or history
But I love to read

Just sitting in the office
Thinking of you

Why Do I Do So Many Stupid Things?

I was a dirty football player. I held. I cut blocked knees. I crotch blocked. I tripped defenders. I would do anything to keep the guy from tackling my running back, anything. I made a defender so mad in high school he started beating my helmet. I did not get mad; I just kept holding.

Sometimes you just have to win. It does not matter how.

There is good writing, and there is bad writing. I read ML's story. All I could say was, "wow." (It can be cleaned up a little, but the ideas come through so smoothly. She reminded me of Joyce's Portrait Of An Artist As A Young Man. I could not understand that book in high school, but I understood ML. Now I want to try Joyce again.)

I have never written anything that good. I have never written anything close to that good.

It depressed me. I tried to convince myself that I had just never written anything that pretty. I tried to convince myself I was not a positive writer. I tried to convince myself my rawness was my strength.

I cannot lie to myself. Just like when I was playing football, I was compensating for my lack of talent. Her story is better. But this fact says nothing about my worth as a human being. I can still bench press more than she can.

I am tired of compensating and pretending. I am a raw guy. I think.

Now, like in the split second when I decided to hold, I have to act. There are too few tomorrows. You never know when tripping makes the difference between winning and losing.

Sometimes you have to win.

Sharing

Nic the Greek said him and I eat too much because of sexual frustration. He has a point.

We also talked about all the things we have. He talked about his DVDs and guitars. I talked about my knowledge. We decided none of it was worth a damn unless we could share it.

The last sentence is sappy, but...

You have to be happy with yourself. You cannot live for someone else. But its nice to have someone to share with.

ML says it best here.

Read This

Read these three free chapters to Russell Roberts' The Invisible Heart: An Economic Romance.

Its not great fiction, but it is packed with ideas.

Spring Struggles

Spring of my 23rd year
All I know is fear

"What is the matter my son?
Why won't you allow yourself any fun?"

The struggle takes time
Patience is no crime

I dreamed I would wear a crown
But the truth is,
I am fucking clown:

Who gets no laughs
Who gets no applause

"Is applause what you crave?
There is no permanent fame
Only the grave"

A house and a wife
Yeah,
That would be a fun life

"The Pretender"
Must put on dark glasses
Must surrender to the masses

But,
I still like to see
I still want to be free

Some Things

I went to the race yesterday. As I was trying to get to my seat, three classmates from Bridgewater yelled my last name from the bleachers. I forgot how good it sounded to get called by my last name. It reminded me of my younger days. I should have went up and talked to them. I am getting old.

Chevrolet ran well. I regained faith in Junior. It was a good day. The only bad thing was "Weasel Dick" Gordon finished second.

The Braves do not have any pitching, but they won today.

After riding back with three colleagues, I thought of this F.A. Hayek quote:

"There is perhaps nothing more disheartening than the fact that there are still so many intelligent and informed people who in most other respects will defend freedom and yet are induced by the immediate benefits of an expansionist policy to support what, in the long run, must destroy the foundations of a free society."

The Constitution of Liberty (339)

Honestly, I do not think two of the colleagues care about a free society. They have been infected with irrational populism and socialism. They would have been good NAZIs or Russian communists.

Life and production not death and taxes:

Death is the greatest sunk cost. Death should not concern intelligent people.

Man created taxes. He can destroy them.

Man created this imperfect society. He can correct it.

Beauty And Beast

He hated riding the bus. It was the lowest form of transportation. People were packed in like livestock. Buses used the same roads that his car used to. They were old and nothing special. There was no allure to riding the bus. It was just a cheap way to get your ass from point A to point B, nothing more.

He won a seat for this morning’s ride. He was longing for something different, when the beauty sat in front of him. She got on at an unusual stop. He could not remember a female joining the fray at that particular juncture.

She was attractive. She knew how to take care of herself. She understood what it took. He smiled at her. She did not see him, because the bus was stopping again and the sudden stop combined with people moving eclipsed his face. The doors opened and the exchange took place.

A boy with unkempt facial hair and a disastrous pony-tail came aboard. The boy was a slob, a slob that did not know anything. He wanted people to perceive him as disinterested, but any man could see through his façade. Disinterestedness meant you did not care about others’ perceptions.

The boy sat beside the beauty. It was time for another smile. But, the beauty began to talk to the beast. She seemed to be enjoying it too. She was enjoying it too much.

It made him angry. A beauty like her needed not converse with a dreg. The boy was insignificant. She was art waiting to be discovered. No, he did not want to discover her, at least not today, but she was being ruined by this worthless fool. His opinion of the boy did not change, but the beauty’s portrait was rapidly depreciating.

The bus stopped. It was his turn to leave the rest of the cattle and head for greener pastures, well, different pastures. It was the beauty’s turn also. The boy had to sit alone and wait.

He let the beauty go ahead of him. She smiled in appreciation; he smiled back.

What To Do

This morning I felt an urge to write. I started a story. I did not finish. I looked at the Ayn Rand Institute's Atlas Shrugged essay contest. I liked one topic, but I decided I am too old for book reports.

Then I found this post in ML's blogosphere. I am not commenting directly on the blog partly because I am misinterpreting the post, partly because I have no courage, and partly because I wanted to write something at length.

It angers me when "fair weather exercisers" do not put their weights back properly. It angers me they do not respect the weight room.

But the "fair weather exercisers" are not the problem in the gym or on the trail. When I lifted at Gold's, I payed $50 a month, but the weights were arranged properly. I saw fewer "fair weather exercisers." Of course there were some, but the $50 a month kept many away. (The explicit and implicit rules [big guys] of the gym forced the "fair weather exercisers" to respect the weight room.)

Now I do not pay any monthly dues. Every taxpayer pays the same. The "fair weather exercisers" pay the same as everyday exercisers. Their taxes have purchased the right to put weights wherever they please. Everyday exercisers cannot cancel their memberships. They do not have any mechanism to force respect. The "fair weather exercisers" are subsidizing everyday exercisers.

I am stealing from those people who do not use the weight room.

The trail is the same way. I have never been on the trail, but I have helped pay for it.

Here is a dialogue from Atlas Shrugged:

"Ragnar Danneskjold: I've chosen a special mission of my own. I'm after a man whom I want to destroy. He died many centuries ago, but until the last trace of him is wiped out of men's minds, we will not have a decent world to live in."

Hank Rearden: "What man?"

Danneskjold: "Robin Hood.""

The modern world is trying to be both the poor peasants and the evil Sheriff of Nottingham with government acting as Robin Hood. We take from gym rats and give to trail blazers. Then we take from trail blazers and give to gym rats. Then we take from the lazy and those who prefer private memberships and give to both the rats and the blazers. Even if it all evens out, it still does not make sense.

We as a society do not need trails and gyms. Some individuals within our society want trails and gyms. Only those individuals should pay for the gym and trails. Then they can enforce whatever rules they want. Then everyday exercisers could avoid "fair weather exercisers." Everyone would be happier.

Working From Home

Good things:

1. You can avoid a shower and stay in your boxers half the day.

2. After every 15 minutes of working, you can take a 45 minute ESPN break.

3. You can cut your toenails without fear.

4. You can look at questionable material without fear.

5. You can wash clothes (which is included in the 15 minutes of working.)

6. You control the temperature.

7. The toilet paper is much nicer.

Bad things:

1. After every 15 minutes of working, you can take a 45 minute ESPN break.

2. You hear this young guy and his girlfriend training their dog. You do not know who to feel more sorry for the dog or yourself.

3. You notice your toenails are ugly, and you have more hair where you do not want it than where you want it.

4. The 45 minute ESPN break must involve a snack.

5. You see how much of a slob you are. You clean up for your 15 minutes of work then make a mess with your 45 minute break. You give up on cleaning.

6. You realize you hate working. It does not matter where. At least at the office there are more women.

"That Would Not Be Kind"*

The most important thing I learned from my marketing class was people buy on emotion not thought. Funny commercials sell bad products. A personable candidate defeats a droll one. You catch more flies with honey. The squeaky wheel gets grease. Intelligence does not always rule the day.

You can see it with blogs. There are some intellectual blogs, but most are like this one; some kid dealing with life. Funny posts get more attention than serious ones. People want to feel not think.

I have no idea what the above means. I guess it is me justifying my laziness. It is me telling me its okay not to think. It is me.

I read over my last posts. I have no direction. I do not know what I want, and I do not care what I want. I am just faking life. I have become what I hate.

But at least I am not calling in any "10 o'clock tuck-ins." The marks are key. You are either selling them something or you are one of them.

*Gordon Lightfoot's "Rainy Day People" A great song. Read the lyrics.

Its Better To Be Pissed Off Then Pissed On

My father has a Mr. Natural cartoon where a man asks Mr. Natural "What does it all mean?" Mr. Natural responds "Don't mean sheeit..."

Mr. Natural is right.

But it is hard to keep life's events in perspective. I have fell into the overachieving high school girl trap. I have a long but meaningless resume. I do nothing well. When something important comes around, I do not treat it with the reverence it deserves. I have to make decisions and face their consequences.

ML called me sexist again. I am not going to rehash this debate, but I am tired of her defamation. She wants men to wear veils. She wants slaves that only feel when she wants them to. She wants eunuchs. She is sexist.

She also called me an asshole but I cannot argue with that assertion.

Pink Thongs, Miles, And 3 x 5 at 275

A Chinese female classmate had a heavily exposed pink thong on today. Very few things get the juices flowing like heavily exposed pink thongs. I am convinced women have no idea how they affect men. I would have been better off sleeping through those two classes.

I am listening to a shuffle of Miles (the Man), Bruce (the Boss), and Gordon Lightfoot. They remind me of how little I have done, but how much I can do.

I told this undergraduate girl that grades do not matter. She got a 90 and was worried about getting an A- instead of an A. Anyone who knew me in my previous life would laugh at my hypocrisy. (It was always more about learning the material for me though. I used to want to know. It was the knowledge not the grades.)

I bench pressed 275 pounds three sets of five. I have not been able to do that in a long time. (My shoulders and elbows are getting old.)

But I am much more impressed by this. I have always wanted to be able to sustain my heart rate above 180 for an extended period. I had teacher in high school who used to brag about how he could get his heart rate over 200 even though he was 50 and had a heart defect.

I Went To Church Tonight

The sermon was "Would Jesus Vote Republican?" It was well done.

The preacher emphasized judging people the same way you judge yourself. You cannot expect more out of someone then you expect out of yourself.

He also emphasized reflection. Rand put it best: "...in order to be heard, one must have something to say. To have that, one must know one's case. One must know it fully, logically, consistently, all the way down to the philosophical fundamentals."

He said what my father has told me for years, "only an idiot always votes along party lines." We have to think about our political decisions.

(The preacher should reflect more on his views on debt forgiveness and poverty, but it was thought provoking discussion.)

The music sucked. Jesus, God, and other unnecessary words were forced into lyrics. The music captured no emotions. It was horrible. As Hank Hill said about Christian rock, 'It is not making Christianity any better and making rock worse.'

The service started six minutes late. People walked in late. There is no religion in tardiness.

But the sermon was good.

"But who in your measly little world are you trying to prove that you're made out of gold and can't be sold" ~Jimi Hendrix's "Are You Experienced?"

Who?

200th Post Or All Posts Are The Same

I apologize to loyal readers who have previously read this discussion.

Rand distinguished between want and need.

I need to eat. I need to sleep. I need protection from the cold. Need is primitive.

I want a car. I want a simpler life. I want nice things. I want love. I want success. Want is secondary.

Americans want. They do not need.

Sam sent me this article by Malcolm Gladwell. It is another cry for universal health care. Gladwell argues well. But he is wrong.

Gladwell and universal health care supporters fail to recognize the difference between want and need.

I broke my wrist in a football game. It was the fourth quarter with thirty seconds to play. I did not want to come out of the game. The bone was protruding, and the official made me leave the field. I was (am) a stupid young kid.

Besides a broken leg, it was my most expensive injury. But I wanted to play football. I wanted my wrist fixed correctly. There is no justice in making the cheerleaders' parents pay for my wants. It was my decision to break my wrist and my family internalized those costs.

I have no sympathy for the people discussed by Gladwell. They decided teeth and health were not important. They wanted something else. Do they regret those decisions? Yes. But why should a person who made different decisions pay for those regrets?

Gladwell fails to see it is not about moral hazards or externalities but about right and wrong. It is wrong to force people to pay for my stupidity. It is wrong to steal from a healthy person to give to a sick person. It is right for me to pay for my football injuries.

(An entrepreneur will create a new financial instrument in the next ten years that will revolutionize health care, if the government stays out of their way.)

Missed Opportunities

I work in an office
It is really a cell
I work on the fourth floor
It is really hell

And there is always someone
Knocking at the door

I am tired of wanting
I am tired of hunting

There is no 'man' my friend
If there was,
You would be him

Life looks grim
When you are on the fourth floor
In an office that is really a cell
And you are the devil
Keeping you in hell

And there is always someone
Knocking at the door
But you will not let them in

Another Experiment

I come into Microeconomics class today. The following was on the board:

"US Rich and Poor
Top 1% owns 38%
Bottom 40% owns 1%
Top 3 million own same as bottom 113 million
(2002)"

I respond on the board:

"So What?

The bottom 113 million are still better off than the majority of the world.

Thought Experiment
What would happen if we took everything away from the top 3 million and gave it to the bottom 113 million?

Who is John Galt?"

The professor gave a positive argument that in capitalist countries inequality is expected. The rich accumulate. The poor do not. He did not have the courage to make any normative claims about income equality. He did not discuss how graduate students or hippies sacrifice wealth for (perceived) happiness. He did not discuss anything of importance. He did not discuss how the top 1% got their wealth.

And the students (including myself) passively accepted his response. It made me angry but I sat there like the Chinese Communist I have become.

Mean Things I Have Done

There is a bus sitting at my stop. I ask a frumpy girl if the sitting bus is in service. She replies no.

The bus comes. I get on with the frumpy girl. She sits down near me. I do not say a word.

A beautiful ebony (club) volleyball player gets on and sits across from me. I ask her about volleyball. She goes into a speech about how the national tournament moved from Las Vegas to Salt Lake City. She talked five minutes about herself. The frumpy girl entered the conversation but it was all about volleyball.

I am an asshole.

An unworthy woman will only talk about herself. Worthy women have the courtesy to ask something about you even if they do not care.

Suggestions

Partly due to me, the Krugman reader in the gym gave up on Krugman. He said Krugman's style was too pompous.

I feel bad. I have decided to suggest or let him borrow another economics book. My first thought was Heilbroner's The Worldly Philosophers. My second thought was Callahan's Economics For Real People.

Since the readership of the blog has increased, I expect suggestions.

I do not think he will read any economics book especially one I have written all over, but its a good experiment. Economists have to teach better.

An Experiment

"Learned more from a three minute record
Than I ever did in school...
No retreat, no surrender"
~the greatest American economist
The Boss, Bruce Springsteen

I wrote this on the board before Macroeconomics. I wished I had a camera to see the reactions from my classmates and the professor.

Except one colleague, no one had ever really listened to Springsteen. It made them pause and think especially the Chinese (half of the class).

It really blew their mind when I asked them to name a better American economist. There gave no satisfactory answers.

I am playing with a different deck. Playing with different decks gets you killed for cheating. Or, you never get in the game.

The proper quote:
"...Learned more from a three minute record, baby
Than we ever learned in school"

An Email Debate

The following is an Email thread Jobless, Jobless' friend and I had. I have deleted names but not poor grammar. It is nothing profound, but it made me wonder about where the world is going and what I am doing about it.

The following article is what I was trying to describe to you, in reference to subsidies. I attached the pdf with the full article. It starts on page 25 of the pdf. The second is something I thought you would enjoy.

MOVEMENT TO END CROP SUBSIDIES GAINING GROUND AMONG SOME FARMERS (110 Wall
Street Journal 3/14) A movement to uproot crop subsidies, which have been worth nearly $600 million to U.S. farmers over the decades, is gaining ground in some unlikely places – including down on the farm. In Iowa, one of the most heavily subsidized states, a Republican running to be state agriculture secretary is telling big farmers they should get smaller checks. Mark Leonard, who collects subsidies himself, told a room full of farmers recently that federal payments spur overproduction, which depresses prices for poor growers overseas. There is a long history of mostly failed attempts to pare farm payments. But the current anti- subsidy sentiment, rising over the last year in the U.S., is stirring attention because it is unusually broad. “There is a growing number of people who want to weigh in on farm policy,” said Rep. Jerry Moran of Kansas, who sits on the House Agriculture Committee. Grass-roots groups are riding the momentum that began with the push to forgive the debt of poor countries in the late 1990s. Another spur to the anti-subsidy movement comes from the World Trade Organization, where the U.S. is coming under increasing pressure to
rein in farm spending.

Jobless

Great seeing you at the wedding and I enjoyed debating with you. Its been a long time since we have had the opportunity to harass each other. Now that I have your email address I will start sending you tons of democratic propaganda, Hillary 2008. Thanks for the information but the pdf did not come through, so please send it again. What you did send me still does not convince me that there is a huge movement by farmers to cut or even reduce the programs. THE ARTICLE DOES NOT QUOTE ONE US FARMER OR ONE US FARM ORGANIZATION WHO IS AGAINST FARM SUBSIDIES. The article states one Republican politician, who collects subsidies himself (he could just be some landlord who is working the system not a FARMER) is in favor of reducing payments and the Canadian farms do not want the US to have subsidies. The groups who oppose farm subsidies are the WTO and Grass-roots hippies who think by keeping food prices cheap we are destroying the world. We'll see how much the world is in favor of subsidies when they have to pay twenty dollars per lb for hamburger and ten dollars for a gallon of milk.

In regards to the Canadian article, I don't have a problem with them placing tariffs on US corn, but it is only fair we place a tariff on any product that is feed with Canadian corn. This includes beef, pork, poultry, cars, truck, and tires (the Canadians indirectly eat the corn (WB: I could not let this go) so anything they manufacture is produced by corn). Plus we need to sue the government because they are violating NAFTA by imposing duties.

I am only in favor of reducing subsidies if I can set my own price, not some moron at the CBOT who sets the price based on REPORTS from the federal government (side note - I really don't like the USDA crop reports because I feel they "play with the numbers"). Lets see, soybeans $10.00 /bu, corn $3.90 /bu, wheat $4.50 /bu, beef $3.00 hanging wts.

Well I'm done ranting.


PS - A strong country depends on three key items, Agriculture, Industry, and Technology. We have already lost Industry to China and we are starting to loose Technology to India. Lets find a way not to loose Agriculture.

Jobless's friend (an engineer and a farmer)

What was the first thing Hitler did? Close Germany's borders.

Economists have failed to teach anything. Its fine your friend is protecting his own ass, but he should admit it. He does not care about national interest. All he cares about is his own interest.

Economists have to teach better. We cannot even teach smart people. How are we ever going to teach dumb people?

I am too angry to write anymore.

WB

Populist Colleagues And Wal-Mart

My populist colleague who worked for my populist representative Virgil Goode sent me this link. It was his response to this article.

He thinks Wal-Mart is evil. I think Wal-Mart should have the opportunity to use its property as it deems fit.

Conservative Professor Bainbridge says Wal-Mart is bad because the data is inconclusive on its effects on jobs and wages.

I am not fond of econometric (statistical)studies. They often confuse the issue. This is one of those situations. Number of jobs and average or median wages does not say anything. We want to know how well-off, how happy, the community is before and after Wal-Mart. We use real income (what can be bought) as a proxy for these measures. (Admittedly, it is a poor measure.) I do not know the aggregate income data. If Wal-Mart caused a community to become poorer, then how could it stay in business? How can Wal-Mart decrease a community's wealth? Decreasing the community's wealth would decrease its profits.

But Bainbridge changes his argument midstride. It is not about dollars, it is about aesthetics. Wal-Mart destroys beautiful small businesses. Wal-Mart has never destroyed another business. Customers not purchasing from the beautiful small business but from Wal-Mart destroyed them. Bainbridge is blaming the wrong people. He should say "stupid customers who do not know the beauty of small business are destroying small business."

He is also irked by Wal-Mart's ugly buildings. Architecture is a matter of taste. I like Wal-Mart's look. I think County Office buildings and churches are ugly. But I am not proposing to eliminate local government and religion.

His idea that Wal-Mart kills entrepreneurship is stupid. My father's video store buys DVDs, drinks, and candy from Wal-Mart and Sam's Club. I know guys who buy produce from Wal-Mart and sell it at the local fruit stand. Entrepreneurship is about recognizing customer wants and meeting these wants. Wal-Mart meets some wants, but it also creates wants. I talk to people who hate Wal-Mart's crowds. Small stores can compete because they do not have crowds.

Bainbridge's argument about the trade deficit is bogus. He should read Cafe Hayek. Trade is mutually beneficial. Dependency theory does not make sense. China runs a trade surplus with the United States by investing in the US. If the Chinese think we are a good investment, then we are probably a good investment.

If Wal-Mart gets tax breaks, it the community's fault not Wal-Mart's. No tax breaks should be given. They are unconstitutional and wrong. Taxes and tax breaks are coercion. But you cannot blame Wal-Mart. You have to blame populist local politicians.

Bainbridge and anti-Wal-Marters are blaming Wal-Mart because things are not going their way. They want a horse and buggy economy. They want the past. Fortunately, most Americans want progress.

Beautiful Things And The Truth

Sometimes you have to step back to see how beautiful something really is. You have to take a deep breath and just observe. You have to see things for what they really are. Beautiful things should be studied.

A colleague started a blog. I could not give him this address. I will have to wait a couple of weeks. It made me think about what I am posting. Maybe I will start another blog for professional issues.

Life is easier when you can tell the truth.

Satisfaction

I wanted to write this post yesterday. Sunday night stress is starting to creep in but...

For the first time in a long time, I feel satisfied.

I learned how to read again. Reading calms me. It slows me down. It helps me breath.

I have entered a different post-infatuation stage. The self-doubt and longing is still there, but I am more confident in my ability to control the situation. Instead of looking for flaws to eliminate the infatuation, I am trying to justify it. I am not ignoring flaws, but I am not concentrating on them either.

I am taking a chance.

A reader was nice enough to compliment me. I am honest enough with myself to know that I am not a good writer. But I am improving.

All (good) writing is personal. But by writing in public, the author accepts a social responsibility. As McCloskey says in The Writing of Economics, "the reader is sovereign."

My goal is to make the reader think. I want to relay my thoughts and feelings, but I want readers to look inside themselves. I want them to agree, disagree, and ask why. I want them to feel.

Chekhov said it best, "My goal is...to paint life in its true aspects, and to show how far this life falls short of the ideal life."

I am no Chekhov. But this weekend I feel satisfied and that is good enough.

"These Emotions Of Mine Keep Holding Me From, Eh, Giving My Life To A Rainbow Like You"

Jimi Hendrix's "Bold As Love"

Anger, he smiles,
towering in shiny metallic purple armour
Queen Jealousy, envy waits behind him
Her fiery green gown sneers at the grassy ground

Blue are the life-giving waters taken for granted,
They quietly understand
Once happy turquoise armies lay opposite ready,
But wonder why the fight is on
But they're all bold as love, yeah, they're all bold as love
Yeah, they're all bold as love
Just ask the axis

My red is so confident that he flashes trophies of war,
and ribbons of euphoria
Orange is young, full of daring,
But very unsteady for the first go round
My yellow in this case is not so mellow
In fact I'm trying to say it's frightened like me
And all these emotions of mine keep holding me from, eh,
Giving my life to a rainbow like you
But, I'm eh , yeah, I'm bold as love
Yeah, yeah
Well I'm bold, bold as love (hear me talking, girl)
I'm bold as love
Just ask the axis (he knows everything)
Yeah,
yeah,
yeah!

To Camus Or What Matters

When he was young
Many things mattered:

Success
Glory
Religion
Sex
Forgiveness
Life
Happiness

Then one morning
His head throbbed
He looked in the mirror
There was nothing there

Yes,
You have to push the rock
But it does not fall all the way down
You stumble
You recover

Things do not matter
But he would never be young again

"Let Your Mistakes Be Your Own; Let Your Sins Be Your Own"*

What a day:

I got so angry this morning at a class and the changes in the gym that I could have killed.

I floated through the afternoon. I did absolutely nothing. And for some reason, I can still look myself in the mirror. The devil did not take my soul. I did not die.

I went to my final class for the week. I laughed. I saw the world's absurdity and laughed like I had only one laugh left.

After class, I had three excellent conversations. None of them mattered, none dealt with anything of importance. I enjoyed all three.

I smelled a Rio Star Texas Grapefruit. There is no better scent. I almost do not want to eat it. It smells so good.

I read over this post. I laughed again.

An Addendum:

I saw the girl from the gym who does not wipe down machines for the first time in three weeks. She was stunning, absolutely stunning.

I had another conversation. Again nothing of real importance, but I almost got my mind blown. She was beautiful also. I cannot stop thinking about her.

*"I ain't going to fuck it up this time." from
Bruce Springsteen's "Long Time Comin"

Bird Of Prey

Atop his perch he studied the young woman. He had been fascinated by her for two weeks. He could not figure out why he thought she was beautiful. His friend did not see it making her more beautiful.

She had a wonderful smile, a smile that pacified his mind. A smile that made him forget the cosmetic nature of the world he had chosen to live in, a smile that illuminated the darkness in his soul. He thought about how he valued that smile. He thought about what he would give to see it often. He thought about how much he would enjoy telling her about her wonderful smile.

But what if she already knew of her beautiful smile? She would not care about this ugly owl stalking her from his perch. She would laugh at the owl and send him away. Beautiful people care about beauty. This ugly owl was not beautiful.

But what if she didn’t think her smile was beautiful? The owl did not like playing therapist. Women without confidence served no purpose. They were just lungs breathing, nothing more, nothing less. And, once the owl convinced her of her beauty, she would certainly see him for what he truly was, an ugly owl.

And, this neuroticism was his life. He wasn’t a damn owl. He was a scared boy who couldn’t find the courage to talk to an average looking girl. He was an idiot who thought things through. Some would say too thoroughly, but he knew that ‘too thoroughly’ made no sense; he had thought that out too. He knew his observations held future relevancy. He did not know exactly what they were going to be used for, but they were something, something relevant. Relevant was the correct word. He pondered the meaning of relevancy. All he ever did was ponder his thoughts.

He got off his perch. He passed the beauty. He wondered what the future held for him.

The beauty wondered the same thing.

Magic

I am a rational guy. I think everything through to the nth degree. There are no miracles. I separate reality from fantasy.

But sometimes (especially with women) I expect magic. I sit around and wait for something to magically happen. I wait for a miracle.

There are no miracles. I make things happen. I cannot expect anything to happen while sitting on my ass. "Fat, drunk, and stupid is no way to go through life." Ass sitting leads to hemorrhoids.

(I wonder how long this attitude will last. I am betting a day and a half.)

Proof that there are valleys in Missouri from Random Ramblings:

"... enjoying the AMAZING weather we had over the weekend...I remember one time when I was like a 6th grader or something. I had a paper to write, 2 homeworks and like a test to study for..."

Like I know it isn't cool to like make fun of someone's blog on like another blog, but like I had to do it like the rest of the post and comments were like TOUCHING or something!!!

(This last part sounded better in my head then it turned out written.)

Breadth Versus Depth

I have been debating the following ideas for a year. I have neither the time nor the energy nor mental capacity to make this a readable post. But I want to say something today, in case I go crazy and am sent to an asylum tonight.

ML and the Filipina tell me life is about breadth of experience. You have a gut-level reaction you like someone; you ask her out or start playing the game with her. You talk to the girl on the bike. Thinking gets you in trouble. Life is making the most out of random occurences.

"I took the money. I spiked your drink. You miss too much these days if you stop to think... You know I love the element of suprise." U2's Tryin' To Throw Your Arms Around The World

I care much about the depth of an experience. I study the gut-level reaction. I throughly examine if there is more than just a gut-feeling. The introspection is the important part of the experience. Knowing why I was attracted, why I reacted the way I did matters. You do not talk to the girl on the bike because there is nothing to say. Life is explaining randomness. Life is what you learn through experiences.

A blogger in ML's blogosphere said "everything is better in person." You have to see it to believe it, to feel it.

I disagree. I get more out of a football game on TV than 90% of the fans in Lane Stadium. I see the two coordinator's chess game. I see athletes versus football players. I see discpline versus reckless abandon. I see hours of practice and preparation that went into the game. I see the humility it takes to play football. To me, the game itself and what the game teaches is important. "Enter Sandman" and getting drunk with friends does not teach anything. It is a wasted experience. It is experience for experience's sake. (I prefer Rattle and Hum to a live U2 concert. It is a deeper experience. "Fuck the revolution" taught me more than the drunks at RFK .)

"I don't care where you've been. I want to know where you are going."

But I am changing. I think ML, the Filipina, and the blogger have a valid point. You have to do things just to do them. Life gets boring watching TV. Life gets boring sitting in the classroom. You can only study for so long before applying what you have learned.

Of course, there should be a balance, but I have never been able to balance anything in my life. (I almost crushed my testicles on the balance beam in elementary school.)