I recently received an email from a friend with the subject heading, “So how mad are you at me really????” The thing that really surprised me about this email was that I wasn’t angry with her at all, and it never occurred to me to be mad at her. I wasn’t even annoyed with her. I didn’t even know we had an issue.
Luckily, it turned out in the end that there wasn’t any issue at all. The email was based on an assumption, and the friend is a polite person who wanted to avoid a potential conflict. Both of us serve as board members for a local organization, and we had differing opinions on whether the organization should give a small bit of money to support an upcoming event. It doesn’t matter who was for or against what in this case—we disagreed on the issue. But what still mystified me about this email is why my friend would think this would be an issue to possibly put a rift in our relationship. She wasn’t even at the meeting (being unable to attend, she sent a statement that contained her thoughts on the matter), and we never spoke about the matter, let alone argued about it.
While I very much appreciate the email and the offer of letting me yell at her, and the fact that she didn’t have the urge (or at least didn’t tell me she had the urge) to yell at me, there just didn’t seem to be a cause for conflict at all. In any case, I never even saw the potential. It never occurred to me this could become a yelling issue at all.
In dealing with an ongoing family emergency, I’ve spent a bunch of time in medical waiting rooms recently. I cancelled my cable subscription a little more than three years ago, so I don’t see much TV, but having been subjected to the “second-hand smoke” of TV blather in these waiting rooms, I’ve begun to notice a trend.
It started one day when I was forced to watch (or at least listen to)“The View.” About a month and a half ago, there was a show in which the panel supposedly attempted to debate some of the issues surrounding the war in Iraq. The reason I say “supposedly” is because it was clear to me that the show was heavily scripted, even though this was supposed to be an impromptu debate on the issues.
The issue was brought up by one of the middle-aged panelists, and heavily “debated” by the younger panelists, who ended up practically screaming at each other. Every so often, the matriarchal type in the bunch would attempt to calm things down in an ‘intellectual” grandmotherly fashion, which basically came across as, “There, there children, don’t bicker. Play nicely.” By the time the segment was over, the panelists verbally came to the conclusion that the issue was “too emotionally charged to possibly debate civilly and intelligently.” Oh, and one young panelist brightly proclaimed that the entire panel was at a disadvantage, since they were all women and had a tendency to get more emotional than men about these issues anyhow.
Also, since the decisions are out of our hands, we shouldn’t get too worked up about it.
The next segment in the show was about how to properly choose colors for your living room, if I remember correctly.
If it weren’t offensive enough that the fruits of decades of fighting for gender equality was being eviscerated on a show that supposedly depicts modern, liberated women, the idea that an issue facing this country—the country that first proclaimed that government should be by and for the people—is too emotional for the common people to intelligently think about and debate is even more offensive.
But the more I was disgusted by what I saw, the more I thought about it. When was the last time you saw a good example of intelligent debate?
You certainly won’t find it come election season. A “debate” on national television these days seems nothing more than a carefully written speech written by professional speech-writers designed to be its best when sound-bitten. Carefully gathered supporters comprise the live audiences, in most cases, to provide live applause for their guy on cue.
Gone seem to be the days when intelligent people gathered to discuss the issues of the day. Believe it or not, once upon a time (before television, of course), people used to gather for political debates, as well as other forms of debate. They even considered it entertaining.
But today, it seems, if two or more parties don’t see exactly eye-to-eye, that’s a conflict, and debate is unlikely. Mediation, perhaps, if the matter is big enough to become a legal issue, is possible, but talking without agreeing is apparently now taboo.
I have to wonder if this is political correctness gone too far.
Will it come to the point where anyone who says anything that offends anyone, anywhere, or has the potential to, will be considered horribly gauche? And who is to say what is offensive?
The fact is, that in the case of any disagreement or potential disagreement, communication is essential to resolution. And if we find ourselves getting so touchy that we can’t talk about issues, they WILL become actual conflicts.
I definitely appreciate that email. My friend was actually more astute than I to see the potential for conflict in today’s climate.
But I find myself wishing it weren’t like that and thinking that while humans have always been irrational, touchy creatures, in some ways, we may have been a bit more politically correct when people could still debate, occasionally disagree, be accepted for who they are and not worry about having to apologize for their beliefs—and then go out for coffee or a beer afterwards, without having to make sure their friends are still their friends.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
We are all Easton’s heritage
I recently received a press release that cited the usual deplorable statistics about how little Americans really know about their country. Being that this is the season of all things patriotic, just having passed Independence Day, this is not all that surprising.
According to the Intercollegiate Studies Institute, only 48 percent of college seniors surveyed correctly identified the Declaration of Independence as the source of the phrase, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.” The release goes on to state that 42 percent of those surveyed thought the source of the phrase was from the preamble of the Constitution. And, that more than 400 students (it does not reveal how many were actually surveyed) apparently identified the phrase’s source as Marx and Engels’ The Communist Manifesto.
So, apparently, if one adds up the numbers, only 90 percent of those surveyed (supposedly America’s best and brightest—they’re college students, right?) correctly identified the phrase as belonging to one of the United States’ key documents, and only slightly more than half of those knew which of those documents it belongs too.
These are sobering thoughts, surely, but this is not a column about the ills of American society. There are plenty of those already, and I’m fairly certain that on the day I decide to return to that topic, there will still be plenty to discuss.
I’m not certain how many of the hundreds who attended Easton’s Heritage Day reading of the Declaration of Independence really knew it well before they arrived. I suspect, from what I observed during the reading, that quite a few not only respect that document but do actually understand and know its contents.
But I’m sure it was far from everyone. If you surveyed the crowd before the event, I’m not sure how well they’d have fared.
Would the results be so different from the ISI’s findings? Probably not, though I think few Eastonians would say “that all men are created equal” originated in Communist Russia.
But whether they can recite the words or not, I know America, the REAL America, is alive and well in Easton.
How do I know this? I saw it myself.
When reenactor Adam Howard got to the parts about tyrants and taxes, the crowd booed both. Unabashedly. Unashamedly.
And not just in fun, due to the spirit of the moment either. It was for real.
The last couple of years, political protesters have quietly and peacefully voiced their opinions with large signs during the event. They too, as far as I am concerned, are a symptom that the democratic principles this nation was founded on are also alive and well in Easton.
When freedom and liberty, and the pursuit of happiness were mentioned, the crowd cheered its approval.
In what now seems like another lifetime, I used to be a reenactor. In fact, I participated in Heritage Day numerous times, in period garb, for half a decade before I moved to Easton. Having been a member of “the hobby” (reenacting) for almost two decades, I’ve seen the Declaration read a countless number of times, both in Easton and elsewhere.
I’ve seen it done well, as well as poorly. (For the record, I’ve enjoyed Howard’s interpretation on all the occasions I’ve seen him.) But the one thing that is unique in Easton is the crowd.
In most places, at most events, though polite, the crowd looks bored. One finds oneself often wondering why they attended.
Perhaps it was supposed to be educational for their children, who upon taking the parental cue, also look bored. Some people inevitably drift off, either mentally, or even physically wander away before the presentation is through.
But Easton is different.
This past Sunday, I saw children watching attentively, nodding, and actually understanding the real meaning and importance of the Declaration of Independence as it was brought to life before them. I watched adults, also rapt in attention, as their faces showed the new meaning the reading gave their country’s founding document, and in some cases, also understanding its true import for the first time.
Perhaps it is that it actually happened here, in Easton, that there is some remnant trace of memory, much more so than is passed down to us in the dusty, tired old history books that most of us have come to equate with the boredom of a banal, required high school history classes, that makes the Declaration’s reading so much more meaningful here that elsewhere.
But I think it is something else too.
A few years ago, the Heritage Day Committee chose for its t-shirt slogan the phrase, “You are Easton’s heritage.”
It is my favorite slogan for Heritage Day, and my favorite t-shirt too. (I even bought a backup one this year, just in case.) The reason I like it is that it is so true.
A place is only as good as its people, and it is the people that make the history of a place. People and their achievements, both large and small, are what put a town on the map. Even if a place is renowned for something else, say its architecture, someone had to put it there. Hence, it is the people that are the impetus that make a place great or important.
Before and during the Revolutionary War, and for a long time after that, a century and a half, in fact, Easton was a place of importance and a center of commerce. Easton’s history of success is much longer than its current history of urban dilemmas.
But dilemmas we do have, and solve them we must.
Looking around on Sunday, I saw a few hundred Eastonians, all of who play their roles in what is Easton’s heritage to come, whether they realize it or not. But seeing the reaction and attentiveness at that reading, I’m not too worried about the future of Easton, not as long as we continue to boo tyrants and unfair taxes.
We, all of us, are Easton’s heritage, and Easton’s future. Let’s make sure we never forget it.
According to the Intercollegiate Studies Institute, only 48 percent of college seniors surveyed correctly identified the Declaration of Independence as the source of the phrase, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.” The release goes on to state that 42 percent of those surveyed thought the source of the phrase was from the preamble of the Constitution. And, that more than 400 students (it does not reveal how many were actually surveyed) apparently identified the phrase’s source as Marx and Engels’ The Communist Manifesto.
So, apparently, if one adds up the numbers, only 90 percent of those surveyed (supposedly America’s best and brightest—they’re college students, right?) correctly identified the phrase as belonging to one of the United States’ key documents, and only slightly more than half of those knew which of those documents it belongs too.
These are sobering thoughts, surely, but this is not a column about the ills of American society. There are plenty of those already, and I’m fairly certain that on the day I decide to return to that topic, there will still be plenty to discuss.
I’m not certain how many of the hundreds who attended Easton’s Heritage Day reading of the Declaration of Independence really knew it well before they arrived. I suspect, from what I observed during the reading, that quite a few not only respect that document but do actually understand and know its contents.
But I’m sure it was far from everyone. If you surveyed the crowd before the event, I’m not sure how well they’d have fared.
Would the results be so different from the ISI’s findings? Probably not, though I think few Eastonians would say “that all men are created equal” originated in Communist Russia.
But whether they can recite the words or not, I know America, the REAL America, is alive and well in Easton.
How do I know this? I saw it myself.
When reenactor Adam Howard got to the parts about tyrants and taxes, the crowd booed both. Unabashedly. Unashamedly.
And not just in fun, due to the spirit of the moment either. It was for real.
The last couple of years, political protesters have quietly and peacefully voiced their opinions with large signs during the event. They too, as far as I am concerned, are a symptom that the democratic principles this nation was founded on are also alive and well in Easton.
When freedom and liberty, and the pursuit of happiness were mentioned, the crowd cheered its approval.
In what now seems like another lifetime, I used to be a reenactor. In fact, I participated in Heritage Day numerous times, in period garb, for half a decade before I moved to Easton. Having been a member of “the hobby” (reenacting) for almost two decades, I’ve seen the Declaration read a countless number of times, both in Easton and elsewhere.
I’ve seen it done well, as well as poorly. (For the record, I’ve enjoyed Howard’s interpretation on all the occasions I’ve seen him.) But the one thing that is unique in Easton is the crowd.
In most places, at most events, though polite, the crowd looks bored. One finds oneself often wondering why they attended.
Perhaps it was supposed to be educational for their children, who upon taking the parental cue, also look bored. Some people inevitably drift off, either mentally, or even physically wander away before the presentation is through.
But Easton is different.
This past Sunday, I saw children watching attentively, nodding, and actually understanding the real meaning and importance of the Declaration of Independence as it was brought to life before them. I watched adults, also rapt in attention, as their faces showed the new meaning the reading gave their country’s founding document, and in some cases, also understanding its true import for the first time.
Perhaps it is that it actually happened here, in Easton, that there is some remnant trace of memory, much more so than is passed down to us in the dusty, tired old history books that most of us have come to equate with the boredom of a banal, required high school history classes, that makes the Declaration’s reading so much more meaningful here that elsewhere.
But I think it is something else too.
A few years ago, the Heritage Day Committee chose for its t-shirt slogan the phrase, “You are Easton’s heritage.”
It is my favorite slogan for Heritage Day, and my favorite t-shirt too. (I even bought a backup one this year, just in case.) The reason I like it is that it is so true.
A place is only as good as its people, and it is the people that make the history of a place. People and their achievements, both large and small, are what put a town on the map. Even if a place is renowned for something else, say its architecture, someone had to put it there. Hence, it is the people that are the impetus that make a place great or important.
Before and during the Revolutionary War, and for a long time after that, a century and a half, in fact, Easton was a place of importance and a center of commerce. Easton’s history of success is much longer than its current history of urban dilemmas.
But dilemmas we do have, and solve them we must.
Looking around on Sunday, I saw a few hundred Eastonians, all of who play their roles in what is Easton’s heritage to come, whether they realize it or not. But seeing the reaction and attentiveness at that reading, I’m not too worried about the future of Easton, not as long as we continue to boo tyrants and unfair taxes.
We, all of us, are Easton’s heritage, and Easton’s future. Let’s make sure we never forget it.
American ideal is still very real
This past week, as Americans celebrated Independence Day, and as Easton prepares to celebrate its own unique part in the birth of the United States through Heritage Day, I got to thinking a bit about what its all about.
No, this will not be yet another tedious yet politically correct column spewing patriotic platitudes here, though I love my country well. (I’ll even skip the jokes about fearing my government, at least for now.) But based on the current world situation, and perception of the U.S. and Americans around the world right now, I did get to thinking about the dichotomy between what the U.S. actually is and what average Americans perceive to be “American values.”
When it comes to Independence Day, and the birth of this nation in general, I consider myself to be somewhat more knowledgeable than the average person, since I have been involved in the reenactment of various events pertaining to the Revolutionary War for almost two decades now. My current editorship of The Easton News has curtailed my participation to near nothing in the past year and a half, but if you look closely at Heritage Day photos from the past ten years, you may just find my antique alter ego peering back at you, holding either a distaff or a linstock, demonstrating two very different aspects of colonial life in the local area.
But it doesn’t take any special study or historical expertise to realize that the America we live in today does not really resemble the America our forefathers lived in, or even exactly what they envisioned.
One can debate where or whether things have gone wrong in the intervening 200-plus years since the Declaration of Independence was written followed more than a decade later by the adoption of our Constitution and Bill of Rights, the three cornerstone documents that comprise the basis of the idea of the American way.
It’s plain to see that we, as a nation, have not always lived up to the ideals and laws we set for ourselves. It is immensely arguable that our government, particularly in its current incarnation, has been degraded from these ideals, to the detriment of both our economy and our reputation in the world.
But there can be an immense difference between a government and its people, as another lesson of history has told us time and again. Indeed, I believe there is an ever-growing gap between what the American people perceive to be the right course of action in a given situation and what seems to be happening in our government—perhaps as great as the gap that is growing between rich and poor in this country.
All is not lost, however. Though it would seem hopeless, consider that this country was founded on an outrageous idea, one that no one 200 hundred years ago thought could ever last. But last it has, and even thrived.
Recent scientific evidence confirms that information, the very stuff ideas are made of, does indeed have a physical component, though it is not completely understood entirely. That means that ideas are real, in a very physical sense.
It has always interested me that the first thing tyrants attack is ideas. One would think that once physical dominance is achieved, dictator types would feel secure, that ideas wouldn’t matter, only might.
But I think that those tyrants may have been ahead of contemporary science. They know that once an idea takes hold, it is very, very real in a physical sense.
That thought is comforting to me. See, even if our government has seemingly been usurped by folks that seem more likely to use the Declaration of Independence and our Constitution and Bill of Rights as toilet paper than to actually read the documents they’ve sworn to preserve, those ideals are embedded in the hearts and minds of nearly every American citizen.
See, if the idea of what the U.S. is and can be is intrinsically real, then the reality that idea represents is not so far away after all.
In other words, government by the people and for the people is the logical sum of the equation, not a privilege that is bestowed by some lofty power. Each and every one of us knows what America is really supposed to be about, even if those in the Oval Office seem clueless.
And that means that no matter what happens, our country’s best ideals will survive, no matter what happens. We just have to make sure that we, as a nation, live up to them.
No, this will not be yet another tedious yet politically correct column spewing patriotic platitudes here, though I love my country well. (I’ll even skip the jokes about fearing my government, at least for now.) But based on the current world situation, and perception of the U.S. and Americans around the world right now, I did get to thinking about the dichotomy between what the U.S. actually is and what average Americans perceive to be “American values.”
When it comes to Independence Day, and the birth of this nation in general, I consider myself to be somewhat more knowledgeable than the average person, since I have been involved in the reenactment of various events pertaining to the Revolutionary War for almost two decades now. My current editorship of The Easton News has curtailed my participation to near nothing in the past year and a half, but if you look closely at Heritage Day photos from the past ten years, you may just find my antique alter ego peering back at you, holding either a distaff or a linstock, demonstrating two very different aspects of colonial life in the local area.
But it doesn’t take any special study or historical expertise to realize that the America we live in today does not really resemble the America our forefathers lived in, or even exactly what they envisioned.
One can debate where or whether things have gone wrong in the intervening 200-plus years since the Declaration of Independence was written followed more than a decade later by the adoption of our Constitution and Bill of Rights, the three cornerstone documents that comprise the basis of the idea of the American way.
It’s plain to see that we, as a nation, have not always lived up to the ideals and laws we set for ourselves. It is immensely arguable that our government, particularly in its current incarnation, has been degraded from these ideals, to the detriment of both our economy and our reputation in the world.
But there can be an immense difference between a government and its people, as another lesson of history has told us time and again. Indeed, I believe there is an ever-growing gap between what the American people perceive to be the right course of action in a given situation and what seems to be happening in our government—perhaps as great as the gap that is growing between rich and poor in this country.
All is not lost, however. Though it would seem hopeless, consider that this country was founded on an outrageous idea, one that no one 200 hundred years ago thought could ever last. But last it has, and even thrived.
Recent scientific evidence confirms that information, the very stuff ideas are made of, does indeed have a physical component, though it is not completely understood entirely. That means that ideas are real, in a very physical sense.
It has always interested me that the first thing tyrants attack is ideas. One would think that once physical dominance is achieved, dictator types would feel secure, that ideas wouldn’t matter, only might.
But I think that those tyrants may have been ahead of contemporary science. They know that once an idea takes hold, it is very, very real in a physical sense.
That thought is comforting to me. See, even if our government has seemingly been usurped by folks that seem more likely to use the Declaration of Independence and our Constitution and Bill of Rights as toilet paper than to actually read the documents they’ve sworn to preserve, those ideals are embedded in the hearts and minds of nearly every American citizen.
See, if the idea of what the U.S. is and can be is intrinsically real, then the reality that idea represents is not so far away after all.
In other words, government by the people and for the people is the logical sum of the equation, not a privilege that is bestowed by some lofty power. Each and every one of us knows what America is really supposed to be about, even if those in the Oval Office seem clueless.
And that means that no matter what happens, our country’s best ideals will survive, no matter what happens. We just have to make sure that we, as a nation, live up to them.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Laptop offers technology’s magic only dreamed of in yesteryears
Let me start by saying I am a Luddite at heart. I like my life simple and quiet, though it never really seems to work out that way.
Years ago, I avoided getting a computer for as long as possible, bowing to the dictates of modern convention only when it became apparent that my friends and neighbors would no longer respond to me just shouting over the fence, or leaving voice mail messages. I’m not technophobic; in fact, it’s quite the opposite. But I really, really didn’t want to be bothered with one more thing in my life that would need attention.
This, however, happened back in what is now the “dark ages,” when voice mail was still called leaving a message on someone’s answering machine. (Remember those quaint devices? You bought it once and never paid for the service again until the machine broke, unlike today where for about $7 a month anyone with an access code, and probably Big Brother too, can listen to your messages any time they want, which are no doubt archived for the government’s convenience as well. But I forgot, the concept of real privacy has also become quaint these days.)
So, what is now more than a decade ago, I broke down and bought a computer.
And it really wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. The Internet, with all the instant access to information it offers, really did make up for the fact that I was beholden to yet another electronic device.
But as I said, I’m a bit of a Luddite, and I really don’t subscribe to the idea that a device that costs hundreds of dollars should become obsolete trash in just a year or two. So I was determined to make that computer last. This was what is now about 13 years ago.
And last it did, until a little over a month ago, when with no more than a whine followed by an ominous clacking noise, it likely breathed its last. No, it was not exactly the same old beast for the entire 13 years--by now it’s a bit more like Frankenstein, since the beast has three hard drives totaling a whole of 12 gigabytes of computing power. But that said, reviving this particular beast, other than to retrieve 12-plus years of personal research, would rightly be considered some form of electronic cruelty, I think. (Though whether it would be more cruel to the beast or to me is not entirely clear.)
I know there’s a whole bunch of computer nerds out there reading this thinking, “Wow, what a relic...” I know they’re laughing. But I’d also bet the vast majority of them are under 30.
Perhaps it is a product of growing up in a world where nothing seems to stay the same for more than about 15 seconds, but once I find a good tool, I want to master it and use it comfortably. I don’t see carpenters buying really expensive newly designed hammers every fifteen minutes, and I just don’t see why I should have to buy myself a “new hammer” that often either.
That said, not having a “hammer” at all is a problem. For the last bunch of weeks, everything for the newspaper has had to be written in my office out on the far side of the airport, meaning I’ve more or less been chained to my desk in between trips to my mom’s house in New Jersey. It hasn’t been fun.
This weekend I decided to put an end to the slavery to my office computer. I’d been thinking about getting a laptop computer for a while now, but I’d also been putting it off. The problem with refusing to buy a new hammer is that one loses track of what new hammers do and how they do it. So I’d been doing a little research, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to take the plunge.
But standing on the edge of that diving board, with the prod of being chained to my desk every “spare” second for even another minute, let alone another week, was great incentive.
So I headed to the Allentown fairgrounds this past weekend for one of those computer shows they hold.
It was smaller than I expected, which is a good thing, because I also misjudged what time the show closed by an hour. In the end, I had just enough time to review the goods and sellers reasonably thoroughly. Five hundred dollars later, I’ve got a laptop “hammer” that is about eight times as powerful as my old beast, is portable, reads and writes DVDs in addition to CDs and has high-speed wireless Internet capability built in—and it runs on a battery for two hours or more before it needs recharging.
None of this technology is really new any more. And again, I’m sure the under-30 crowd is laughing.
But as I write this column on my new laptop, it strikes me how many times as a kid, reading sci-fi or watching Star Trek, this technology was mentioned and we dreamed of it becoming a reality.
Cell phones are the same way. Less than half a life time ago, people talked about how cool it would be to have a “communicator” from Star Trek. Little kids “played Star Trek” and emulated other sci-fi stories the way they played cowboys and Indians in past decades.
I very specifically remember reading the book version of “The Wrath of Kahn” the summer it came out when I was a kid. The crew is on a short transport out to the Enterprise, and there’s a description of Uhura doing some programming on a portable mini computer—in other words, a laptop. At the time, I thought that was the coolest thing, at least as cool as communicators.
I wanted one.
I don’t think many of us expected to actually own these devices in our lifetimes. They were the toys of the future, of a place and time that didn’t exist, the stuff of sci-fi fantasy, in a world where telephones were still dialed manually, and one got out of one’s chair to change the channel on the television. But today, they are reality.
We don’t always realize how technology has given us things that just a decade or two or three ago would have practically been considered magic. And certainly technology has presented as many problems as it solves—it is not the magic panacea it was often made out to be. But as I write this on my new laptop, it does strike me—whatever magic we can conceive of may indeed come to pass, if we can just wait long enough.
Years ago, I avoided getting a computer for as long as possible, bowing to the dictates of modern convention only when it became apparent that my friends and neighbors would no longer respond to me just shouting over the fence, or leaving voice mail messages. I’m not technophobic; in fact, it’s quite the opposite. But I really, really didn’t want to be bothered with one more thing in my life that would need attention.
This, however, happened back in what is now the “dark ages,” when voice mail was still called leaving a message on someone’s answering machine. (Remember those quaint devices? You bought it once and never paid for the service again until the machine broke, unlike today where for about $7 a month anyone with an access code, and probably Big Brother too, can listen to your messages any time they want, which are no doubt archived for the government’s convenience as well. But I forgot, the concept of real privacy has also become quaint these days.)
So, what is now more than a decade ago, I broke down and bought a computer.
And it really wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. The Internet, with all the instant access to information it offers, really did make up for the fact that I was beholden to yet another electronic device.
But as I said, I’m a bit of a Luddite, and I really don’t subscribe to the idea that a device that costs hundreds of dollars should become obsolete trash in just a year or two. So I was determined to make that computer last. This was what is now about 13 years ago.
And last it did, until a little over a month ago, when with no more than a whine followed by an ominous clacking noise, it likely breathed its last. No, it was not exactly the same old beast for the entire 13 years--by now it’s a bit more like Frankenstein, since the beast has three hard drives totaling a whole of 12 gigabytes of computing power. But that said, reviving this particular beast, other than to retrieve 12-plus years of personal research, would rightly be considered some form of electronic cruelty, I think. (Though whether it would be more cruel to the beast or to me is not entirely clear.)
I know there’s a whole bunch of computer nerds out there reading this thinking, “Wow, what a relic...” I know they’re laughing. But I’d also bet the vast majority of them are under 30.
Perhaps it is a product of growing up in a world where nothing seems to stay the same for more than about 15 seconds, but once I find a good tool, I want to master it and use it comfortably. I don’t see carpenters buying really expensive newly designed hammers every fifteen minutes, and I just don’t see why I should have to buy myself a “new hammer” that often either.
That said, not having a “hammer” at all is a problem. For the last bunch of weeks, everything for the newspaper has had to be written in my office out on the far side of the airport, meaning I’ve more or less been chained to my desk in between trips to my mom’s house in New Jersey. It hasn’t been fun.
This weekend I decided to put an end to the slavery to my office computer. I’d been thinking about getting a laptop computer for a while now, but I’d also been putting it off. The problem with refusing to buy a new hammer is that one loses track of what new hammers do and how they do it. So I’d been doing a little research, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to take the plunge.
But standing on the edge of that diving board, with the prod of being chained to my desk every “spare” second for even another minute, let alone another week, was great incentive.
So I headed to the Allentown fairgrounds this past weekend for one of those computer shows they hold.
It was smaller than I expected, which is a good thing, because I also misjudged what time the show closed by an hour. In the end, I had just enough time to review the goods and sellers reasonably thoroughly. Five hundred dollars later, I’ve got a laptop “hammer” that is about eight times as powerful as my old beast, is portable, reads and writes DVDs in addition to CDs and has high-speed wireless Internet capability built in—and it runs on a battery for two hours or more before it needs recharging.
None of this technology is really new any more. And again, I’m sure the under-30 crowd is laughing.
But as I write this column on my new laptop, it strikes me how many times as a kid, reading sci-fi or watching Star Trek, this technology was mentioned and we dreamed of it becoming a reality.
Cell phones are the same way. Less than half a life time ago, people talked about how cool it would be to have a “communicator” from Star Trek. Little kids “played Star Trek” and emulated other sci-fi stories the way they played cowboys and Indians in past decades.
I very specifically remember reading the book version of “The Wrath of Kahn” the summer it came out when I was a kid. The crew is on a short transport out to the Enterprise, and there’s a description of Uhura doing some programming on a portable mini computer—in other words, a laptop. At the time, I thought that was the coolest thing, at least as cool as communicators.
I wanted one.
I don’t think many of us expected to actually own these devices in our lifetimes. They were the toys of the future, of a place and time that didn’t exist, the stuff of sci-fi fantasy, in a world where telephones were still dialed manually, and one got out of one’s chair to change the channel on the television. But today, they are reality.
We don’t always realize how technology has given us things that just a decade or two or three ago would have practically been considered magic. And certainly technology has presented as many problems as it solves—it is not the magic panacea it was often made out to be. But as I write this on my new laptop, it does strike me—whatever magic we can conceive of may indeed come to pass, if we can just wait long enough.
Thinking is not hard work
It’s that time of year. Here in the Lehigh Valley, and everywhere in America, countless thousands of young people will or have graduated from high school or college.
Many, if not most of them will breathe a sigh of relief. Exams are over, and there is no more studying to be done.
Or is there?
I’m not sure when exactly it happens, but by the time most of us have made it through school, we’ve picked up the idea that thinking is work—hard work—and is therefore something to be avoided.
Where this starts is not difficult to figure out. Though well intentioned, how many times do teachers, especially grammar school ones, tell their students to “think hard”?
Study is something we have to work hard at, we are told, over and over, and the message is repeated when we’re told to “work hard and get good grades.”
It is true enough that assigned scholarly tasks, ones we may not have chosen ourselves and may have little interest in, do indeed have the flavor of “work”—that is to say, learning something one does not want to, but does need to, is usually a bit onerous. And it can be frustrating. After all, it seems effortless to learn skills we’re eager to acquire.
But so many of the things we must gain knowledge about, either to get along in the world, or to get those good marks that are the keys to a “good future” are not on the list of what is utterly fascinating to us personally.
After 12 or more years of the “thinking is hard work” message, it seems that for most people it sinks in, sadly.
The message that thinking is hard work to be avoided is echoed throughout our adult lives by many, many media messages, particularly advertising.
If you don’t believe me, think (gently, don’t “work” at it) about it. Can you name any product that advertises itself as being difficult to use, or actually requiring thought?
Most products, particularly “new and improved” ones, carry the advertising message that says, “It’s so easy, you don’t even have to think about it.” I even once saw an ad for dishwasher detergent in ‘pods’ when this inane product was first introduced that said as much. Quite literally, the message from the ditzy blonde hired to push this stupidity was: “This is so easy, I don’t even have to think about whether I’ve put in the right amount.”
Wait a minute!!! Has thinking become such a chore that determining the right amount of dishwashing detergent to put in the machine is difficult? Does throwing in a “pod” really improve the quality of most dishwasher owners’ lives that much, saving them from the dreaded prospect of actually thinking about what one is doing?
If so, in my humble opinion, that is downright pathetic.
Once upon a time, each of us was young, very young, and the world was a new, fascinating place that we discovered something about every day. While there were definitely frustrations, often leading to tantrums and tears, there were also moments of incredible insight, those “AHA!” moments. Maybe you even remember one of those moments.
Unfortunately, it is rare that usual school subjects lead to that kind of satisfaction (except for the class valedictorian), but that doesn’t mean real satisfaction is unattainable. The things that really interest us, if pursued, can and do provide a lasting contentment, as well as “AHA!” moments and lasting contentment, things those who eschew deep thought will never know.
“Easy” may not be so easy in the end. “Easy” never leads to insight and often leads to boredom and discontentment. “Easy” does not build skills; it makes one more dependent on the purveyor of whatever it is, usually at a more exorbitant price, that have been “improved” to be so easy you don’t even have to think about it. And if one gets too into “easy,” one may find oneself so out of the habit of thought, that
Most things in life that are worth having are not easy things—they require work. But when it comes to thinking—that is, thinking things through, thoroughly—if the subject matter is interesting, it doesn’t really feel that way unless we’ve decided that any and all thought is, indeed, work.
So whether you graduated last week, or last decade, it might just be time to shed the idea that thinking is hard work, and instead remember how exhilarating it was when we were small, before the message of “this isn’t supposed to be fun” sunk in.
After all, you’re out of school now, and no one is telling you what to study. But study something, everyone should—just make sure it’s something you like, and you’ll be an expert in that field before you know it. Not to mention smarter than nearly everyone else, because you’ll know once again, that thinking is not hard work, not when you’re thinking for yourself.
It’s exhilarating.
Many, if not most of them will breathe a sigh of relief. Exams are over, and there is no more studying to be done.
Or is there?
I’m not sure when exactly it happens, but by the time most of us have made it through school, we’ve picked up the idea that thinking is work—hard work—and is therefore something to be avoided.
Where this starts is not difficult to figure out. Though well intentioned, how many times do teachers, especially grammar school ones, tell their students to “think hard”?
Study is something we have to work hard at, we are told, over and over, and the message is repeated when we’re told to “work hard and get good grades.”
It is true enough that assigned scholarly tasks, ones we may not have chosen ourselves and may have little interest in, do indeed have the flavor of “work”—that is to say, learning something one does not want to, but does need to, is usually a bit onerous. And it can be frustrating. After all, it seems effortless to learn skills we’re eager to acquire.
But so many of the things we must gain knowledge about, either to get along in the world, or to get those good marks that are the keys to a “good future” are not on the list of what is utterly fascinating to us personally.
After 12 or more years of the “thinking is hard work” message, it seems that for most people it sinks in, sadly.
The message that thinking is hard work to be avoided is echoed throughout our adult lives by many, many media messages, particularly advertising.
If you don’t believe me, think (gently, don’t “work” at it) about it. Can you name any product that advertises itself as being difficult to use, or actually requiring thought?
Most products, particularly “new and improved” ones, carry the advertising message that says, “It’s so easy, you don’t even have to think about it.” I even once saw an ad for dishwasher detergent in ‘pods’ when this inane product was first introduced that said as much. Quite literally, the message from the ditzy blonde hired to push this stupidity was: “This is so easy, I don’t even have to think about whether I’ve put in the right amount.”
Wait a minute!!! Has thinking become such a chore that determining the right amount of dishwashing detergent to put in the machine is difficult? Does throwing in a “pod” really improve the quality of most dishwasher owners’ lives that much, saving them from the dreaded prospect of actually thinking about what one is doing?
If so, in my humble opinion, that is downright pathetic.
Once upon a time, each of us was young, very young, and the world was a new, fascinating place that we discovered something about every day. While there were definitely frustrations, often leading to tantrums and tears, there were also moments of incredible insight, those “AHA!” moments. Maybe you even remember one of those moments.
Unfortunately, it is rare that usual school subjects lead to that kind of satisfaction (except for the class valedictorian), but that doesn’t mean real satisfaction is unattainable. The things that really interest us, if pursued, can and do provide a lasting contentment, as well as “AHA!” moments and lasting contentment, things those who eschew deep thought will never know.
“Easy” may not be so easy in the end. “Easy” never leads to insight and often leads to boredom and discontentment. “Easy” does not build skills; it makes one more dependent on the purveyor of whatever it is, usually at a more exorbitant price, that have been “improved” to be so easy you don’t even have to think about it. And if one gets too into “easy,” one may find oneself so out of the habit of thought, that
Most things in life that are worth having are not easy things—they require work. But when it comes to thinking—that is, thinking things through, thoroughly—if the subject matter is interesting, it doesn’t really feel that way unless we’ve decided that any and all thought is, indeed, work.
So whether you graduated last week, or last decade, it might just be time to shed the idea that thinking is hard work, and instead remember how exhilarating it was when we were small, before the message of “this isn’t supposed to be fun” sunk in.
After all, you’re out of school now, and no one is telling you what to study. But study something, everyone should—just make sure it’s something you like, and you’ll be an expert in that field before you know it. Not to mention smarter than nearly everyone else, because you’ll know once again, that thinking is not hard work, not when you’re thinking for yourself.
It’s exhilarating.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Artificially inflated gasoline prices are inappropriate during holiday
Due to an ongoing family emergency, I’ve been driving a lot lately, and I can’t help but notice the price of gasoline.
This past weekend I had occasion to both make several trips to central New Jersey and also attend two Memorial Day events.
On the surface, it would seem these two things bear little connection with one another. But I noticed something that has been bothering me since this weekend, something I’ve not seen the pundits take note of.
This weekend, as it does every weekend, and especially on a holiday weekend, gasoline prices rose.
While this is not entirely unexpected, as I watched veterans and their families, along with “civilian” members of the public honor the sacrifices of those who have served in our armed services. Many of those sacrifices have been of life, as well as limb.
It may seem a lifetime ago, but just a few short years ago, I very clearly remember seeing war protesters with signs that said, “No blood for oil.” The slogan also became a bumper sticker.
We were assured by the current president and his administration that the conflict in Iraq is not about oil. I have to say, in the face of current gas prices, coupled with some very suspicious fluctuations (always on a holiday or a weekend, when many people have a need or a tendency to travel), I actually agree. This war was not about oil—it was about profits.
Not too long ago, I read a national news article that estimated our current vice president, Dick Cheney, makes about $22,000 per day from oil stock dividends and related income. This figure did not include other war profits one would be reasonably certain would be forthcoming (not to mention increasing) from being a stockholder in companies such as Halliburton that profit from the sale of armaments and military equipment.
Such a figure would arguably make one wonder how much our president, George W. Bush, would profit from increased oil prices. After all, that is the empire that made his family rich in the first place—along with holdings in military contracting companies. But, alas, that figure was not to be had. The very well researched and fact-checked article I read could not come up with an accurate figure. The reason given was that Bush’s holdings are so intertwined with the rest of the Bush family holdings that the author felt it was impossible to be able to estimate the amount—but that it was likely several times the amount Cheney receives in war profits.
The more I think about this, the more disgusted I become.
As companies like Texaco, Exxon and Chevron unabashedly inflate prices and proudly post record profits, our U.S. service men and women put it all on the line daily—and they are dying daily.
So, this weekend, as gas prices rose, so did my temper. It is a poor excuse to blame the war—after all, it is the same oil, the same refineries and the same pipelines that carry that petroleum to us. The only thing that’s changed is the price—and someone, very likely our elected officials and their oil company PAC cronies, is laughing all the way to the bank, all the while explaining to the American public, with their bare faces hanging out, that this is the consequence of war, a war they refuse to even consider ending.
Okay, so there’s a lot of money at stake, you say. But how many people would you kill for a few million, or even billion, dollars? Is there some amount of money, a minimum amount, say, that makes getting people killed so one can get richer (or richer) okay? Isn’t this the very definition of evil? And assuming one is actually that depraved to buy into that sort of thinking, that this is somehow okay, when does it end?
But either way, during a time reserved to reflect on the sacrifices of American service people, literally, our fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters, who have died and will continue to die until this current war is ended—Memorial Day weekend—it is especially pernicious to jack gas prices just to make an extra buck.
It’s enough to make one wish for instant karma.
This past weekend I had occasion to both make several trips to central New Jersey and also attend two Memorial Day events.
On the surface, it would seem these two things bear little connection with one another. But I noticed something that has been bothering me since this weekend, something I’ve not seen the pundits take note of.
This weekend, as it does every weekend, and especially on a holiday weekend, gasoline prices rose.
While this is not entirely unexpected, as I watched veterans and their families, along with “civilian” members of the public honor the sacrifices of those who have served in our armed services. Many of those sacrifices have been of life, as well as limb.
It may seem a lifetime ago, but just a few short years ago, I very clearly remember seeing war protesters with signs that said, “No blood for oil.” The slogan also became a bumper sticker.
We were assured by the current president and his administration that the conflict in Iraq is not about oil. I have to say, in the face of current gas prices, coupled with some very suspicious fluctuations (always on a holiday or a weekend, when many people have a need or a tendency to travel), I actually agree. This war was not about oil—it was about profits.
Not too long ago, I read a national news article that estimated our current vice president, Dick Cheney, makes about $22,000 per day from oil stock dividends and related income. This figure did not include other war profits one would be reasonably certain would be forthcoming (not to mention increasing) from being a stockholder in companies such as Halliburton that profit from the sale of armaments and military equipment.
Such a figure would arguably make one wonder how much our president, George W. Bush, would profit from increased oil prices. After all, that is the empire that made his family rich in the first place—along with holdings in military contracting companies. But, alas, that figure was not to be had. The very well researched and fact-checked article I read could not come up with an accurate figure. The reason given was that Bush’s holdings are so intertwined with the rest of the Bush family holdings that the author felt it was impossible to be able to estimate the amount—but that it was likely several times the amount Cheney receives in war profits.
The more I think about this, the more disgusted I become.
As companies like Texaco, Exxon and Chevron unabashedly inflate prices and proudly post record profits, our U.S. service men and women put it all on the line daily—and they are dying daily.
So, this weekend, as gas prices rose, so did my temper. It is a poor excuse to blame the war—after all, it is the same oil, the same refineries and the same pipelines that carry that petroleum to us. The only thing that’s changed is the price—and someone, very likely our elected officials and their oil company PAC cronies, is laughing all the way to the bank, all the while explaining to the American public, with their bare faces hanging out, that this is the consequence of war, a war they refuse to even consider ending.
Okay, so there’s a lot of money at stake, you say. But how many people would you kill for a few million, or even billion, dollars? Is there some amount of money, a minimum amount, say, that makes getting people killed so one can get richer (or richer) okay? Isn’t this the very definition of evil? And assuming one is actually that depraved to buy into that sort of thinking, that this is somehow okay, when does it end?
But either way, during a time reserved to reflect on the sacrifices of American service people, literally, our fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters, who have died and will continue to die until this current war is ended—Memorial Day weekend—it is especially pernicious to jack gas prices just to make an extra buck.
It’s enough to make one wish for instant karma.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Whatever happened to all those silly summer pop tunes?
It’s that time of year. You know the moment when it hits. The sun is shining and the breeze is warm. You’re in the car, the windows are down, and that song, one you haven’t heard in forever, comes on the radio. And, all of a sudden, life is very good.
But what ever happened to those silly pop tunes? Granted, at the time, an awful lot of them seemed really annoying. There would always be some tune that got played incessantly, and it would usually be the most inane thing out there.
But it struck me recently that there really are no more new happy, mindless tunes to hum along to on the radio. Unless you actually like the very narrow list of old hits that get played endlessly on the canned, preprogrammed digital loops that pass for radio these days, you are out of luck.
I found myself pondering the death of good pop over a microbrew at one of my favorite Easton establishments recently. The bar’s house CD player, which holds about 100 of the owner’s picks, shuffled to a song I haven’t heard since I was in grade school—“Mr. Blue Sky” by the Electric Light Orchestra.
It had been so long since I’d heard it, I wasn’t sure I was really hearing it, and I wasn’t even sure at first it really was ELO, despite the distinctive sound.
But the experience hit a nerve, and I went out and bought a “best of” CD. While I was at it, I stumbled over Yes’ 90125 album, which was popular when I was in high school.
Okay, so I’m dating myself here. Both bands and albums are ancient history, right?
Yup, it’s true. But I’ve noticed something interesting while I’ve been basking in the complex vocal harmonies and sounds of analog synthesizers of yesteryear.
This music is actually designed to put one in a good mood. And it succeeds admirably, which is why it was so popular in the first place, even if it has been buried by Clear Channel today.
This is a concept that is missing from most of the currently popular stuff I hear on TV and the radio. While some of the best of today’s music is designed to make one think, TV and radio don’t generally play what I consider to be the best, and the message is more than just generally negative—it’s downright toxic.
I started to think even more about it, and I tried to remember the last popular, relatively new tune I’ve heard on the radio that specifically makes me feel good.
The most recent I came up with was “Give a Little Bit.” But interestingly enough, it’s a remake of a “silly pop tune” written by Supertramp in the 1970s.
So I thought a little bit more. The closest thing I could come up with was a few Green Day tunes, but much as I like them, they really don’t qualify because they’re cynical, even if the melodies are relatively happy.
I still can’t trace back exactly when the last time I heard a new purely “feel good” pop song is, but I think it may go back to the beginning of the war in Iraq, if not even before that. But really, can you think of any new, original hits with a positive tone that have come out since 9/11?
They may have been headed out for even longer than that. Silly pop tunes are by nature happy, bubbly creatures, but the world is pretty far from that mentality right now.
However, it may be just what we need. I’ve been playing that ELO CD in my car a lot lately, and it’s been pretty nice out. You know, the weather’s fine, the breeze is warm and the windows are down most of the time. And, as I drive by, I have noticed that the music makes just about everyone smile, just like it was written to, three decades ago.
“Sun is shining in the sky
There ain't a cloud in sight
it's stopped raining
Everybody's in the play
And don't you know it's a beautiful new day, Hey-hey
Running down the avenue
See how the sun shines brightly
In the city
On the streets where once was pity
Mr. Blue Sky is living here today, Hey-hey
Mr. Blue Sky,
please tell us why,
you had to hide away for so long,
Where did we go wrong?”
—“Mr. Blue Sky,” by Jeff Lynne of the Electric Light Orchestra
But what ever happened to those silly pop tunes? Granted, at the time, an awful lot of them seemed really annoying. There would always be some tune that got played incessantly, and it would usually be the most inane thing out there.
But it struck me recently that there really are no more new happy, mindless tunes to hum along to on the radio. Unless you actually like the very narrow list of old hits that get played endlessly on the canned, preprogrammed digital loops that pass for radio these days, you are out of luck.
I found myself pondering the death of good pop over a microbrew at one of my favorite Easton establishments recently. The bar’s house CD player, which holds about 100 of the owner’s picks, shuffled to a song I haven’t heard since I was in grade school—“Mr. Blue Sky” by the Electric Light Orchestra.
It had been so long since I’d heard it, I wasn’t sure I was really hearing it, and I wasn’t even sure at first it really was ELO, despite the distinctive sound.
But the experience hit a nerve, and I went out and bought a “best of” CD. While I was at it, I stumbled over Yes’ 90125 album, which was popular when I was in high school.
Okay, so I’m dating myself here. Both bands and albums are ancient history, right?
Yup, it’s true. But I’ve noticed something interesting while I’ve been basking in the complex vocal harmonies and sounds of analog synthesizers of yesteryear.
This music is actually designed to put one in a good mood. And it succeeds admirably, which is why it was so popular in the first place, even if it has been buried by Clear Channel today.
This is a concept that is missing from most of the currently popular stuff I hear on TV and the radio. While some of the best of today’s music is designed to make one think, TV and radio don’t generally play what I consider to be the best, and the message is more than just generally negative—it’s downright toxic.
I started to think even more about it, and I tried to remember the last popular, relatively new tune I’ve heard on the radio that specifically makes me feel good.
The most recent I came up with was “Give a Little Bit.” But interestingly enough, it’s a remake of a “silly pop tune” written by Supertramp in the 1970s.
So I thought a little bit more. The closest thing I could come up with was a few Green Day tunes, but much as I like them, they really don’t qualify because they’re cynical, even if the melodies are relatively happy.
I still can’t trace back exactly when the last time I heard a new purely “feel good” pop song is, but I think it may go back to the beginning of the war in Iraq, if not even before that. But really, can you think of any new, original hits with a positive tone that have come out since 9/11?
They may have been headed out for even longer than that. Silly pop tunes are by nature happy, bubbly creatures, but the world is pretty far from that mentality right now.
However, it may be just what we need. I’ve been playing that ELO CD in my car a lot lately, and it’s been pretty nice out. You know, the weather’s fine, the breeze is warm and the windows are down most of the time. And, as I drive by, I have noticed that the music makes just about everyone smile, just like it was written to, three decades ago.
“Sun is shining in the sky
There ain't a cloud in sight
it's stopped raining
Everybody's in the play
And don't you know it's a beautiful new day, Hey-hey
Running down the avenue
See how the sun shines brightly
In the city
On the streets where once was pity
Mr. Blue Sky is living here today, Hey-hey
Mr. Blue Sky,
please tell us why,
you had to hide away for so long,
Where did we go wrong?”
—“Mr. Blue Sky,” by Jeff Lynne of the Electric Light Orchestra
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