Friday, May 04, 2012
NFL Head Cases
The Reuters headline reads Over 100 more former NFL players sue over head injuries, wherein we read that these 100 NFL players are joining the ranks of 1,500 other retired NFL players who have already sued over head injuries.
I consider these lawsuits much as I consider lawsuits against tobacco companies, wherein individuals claim that due to tobacco companies advertising the joys of smoking, they happily smoked the years away as if there were no dangers what-so-ever to smoking. Both are foolish, baseless, and a symptom of the victim mentality pervading society.
As an accompaniment to this news item, I offer you the lyrics to Verve Pipe’s I’ve Suffered A Head Injury.
Thursday, May 03, 2012
Comment “On originalism”
An individual utilizing the moniker Midwesterner has posted a short essay at Samizdata titled On originalism, defending, in large part, constitutional originalism, which opens with the following questions.
What law of physics obligates the existence of a moral code? Why don’t rocks and trees and lions and zebras have moral codes? What is it that makes human decisions a special case that is different from all other things and creatures?
Undoubtedly, there is no law of physics which obligates the existence of a moral code. As to the why rocks, trees, lions and zebras do not have moral codes, well, the answer to that should be rather self evident. It is the last question posited, above, which I think can be answered quite succinctly, as follows.
What differentiates man radically from all other animals is this “Thou shalt not kill.” For to say this is to flout the natural course of events. The animal kills what it needs to; killing is no problem for it at all. Nature is the power to kill. Slaughter is the basis for the development of life. But when he says “Thou shalt not kill,” man affirms that he is different from animals, that he has embarked on a new course—in short that he has found himself a man. “Thou shalt not kill” expresses the true being of man.
That answer is the thought of Jacques Ellul, from his book Violence, and though Ellul is writing from a Christian perspective, the “Thou shalt not kill” he quotes is not a commandment, though it is, but a quite universally accepted societal norm.
Further into the essay, Midwesterner asks the following.
If there is no external imperative obligating a moral code, is no moral code possible?
Putting aside the somewhat hackle raising idea of whether there is, or is not, an “external imperative” for a moral code, the answer to whether a moral code is possible without an external imperative, the answer is an unequivocal yes, and history proves this.
As Midwesterner continues the essay, we arrive at the point where defense of durable agreements, i.e. constitutions, or, pieces of paper with lofty words written upon them, is argued as follows.
...It is only through temporally durable agreements that humans are restrained. “Deserve” is a human invention and subject to human definition. You deserve only what the contract you have with other individuals says you “deserve”. If there is no contract, there is no “deserve”. At root, these mutual non-aggression contracts between humans, acting individually and in cooperation, stand as the only barrier between each of us and unlimited, literally unlimited, violence.
The binding strength of our constitutional contracts is all that holds back violent aggression by whoever is strongest at the moment. Once a society slips from its contractual moorings and floats free, it cannot but drift into primal carnage. If the rules can be flexed with good intentions, it is the strongest who will bend them. Regardless of the good intentions behind constitutional nullification, sooner or later the broken remnants of what started as a mutual non-aggression pact become weapons in the hands of aggressors. When the constitutional contract is nullified it is the strongest, not the weakest, who benefit.
While there is a modicum of validity to Midwesterner’s thinking in regards to constitutions, these pieces of paper, which allegedly restrain unlimited violence amongest men, well, history once again proves that reliance on constitutions, or mutual non-aggression contracts, as protection from violence is a tenuous proposition at best.
I submit that individuals who willingly and eagerly resort to violence, constitutionally backed or not, are beyond the reach of reason, and that assent to constitutions, or so-called social contracts, is a type of social conformity which allows for society wide bad consciences, while at the same time relieving individuals of personal responsibility.
The Cork Has Been Slimed
In flyfishing, there is a tradition, when one purchases a new fly rod, of sliming the rod’s cork grip upon landing of the first trout taken with said fly rod. The cork grip of the bamboo stick I recently mentioned here, was properly slimed last week, while I was North, with the slime of a number of trout caught and released, with the below trout, a 14 inch brown, providing the most satisfaction in performing this tradition.
I took this trout to my hand at around 3:45 in the afternoon, about 100 yards downstream of Shep’s Bend, on a Hendrickson mayfly, tied in the comparadum style with a trailing shuck, and the trout took the dry fly with gusto.
The brown is actually the perfect eating size, fried up in a cast iron skillet with butter, salt and pepper, but I predominately practice catch and release, so after the photo op, I gently gathered the brown in my hands, knelt with him in the water while he re-acclimimated himself to his natural environs, and watched him swim upstream with vigor and purpose from my hand. We may very well meet again in the future.
“Like Me” Headline Juxtaposition
Building the Pentagon’s ‘like me’ weapon
Get Anyone to Like You – Instantly – Guaranteed
Maybe the Pentagon could save a ton of dough on research, complete with a guarantee.
Both articles linked via Fred Lapide’s GoodShit (potentially NSFW).
Right to Disparage
A Reuters headline, today, reads Trayvon Martin shooter disparaged Mexicans on old Web page, referring, of course, to George Zimmerman, the “white-hispanic.”
One would think, based on the current social acceptability of blacks utilizing the word “nigger” in reference to themselves, seemingly without any hint of disparagement, that Mr. Zimmerman, as a “white-hispanic,” would have just as much right to refer to Mexicans as “mexicans” or “wanna be thugs” without his words being considered as disparaging.
Wednesday, May 02, 2012
Buried Spitfires
Here’s an interesting story I did not see last month. Possibly up to twenty (20) British Spitfires have been located in the jungles of Burma, still buried in the crates they were shipped in, “waxed, wrapped in greased paper and tarred to protect against the elements,” as the article notes.
The Spitfires were found by one David Cundall, but now, due to British PM David Cameron, Mr. Cundall may very well lose his find to one fat cat friend of Cameron’s by the name of Steven Boultbee Brooks.
The original story noting the find is headlined Buried treasure in Burma: Squadron of lost WWII Spitfires to be exhumed, and the follow up story, noting the perfidy of Cameron and his fat cat friend Brooks, is titled Dogfight Over Buried WWII Spitfires in Burma.
Prosocial Moral Worth
Keith Burgess-Jackson points to a study published in the Social Psychological & Personality Science journal titled My Brother’s Keeper? Compassion Predicts Generosity More Among Less Religious Individuals with this short comment.
According to a recent study, theists and atheists are equally charitable. Atheists tend to be motivated by compassion. Theists tend to be motivated by duty. Immanuel Kant (1724-1804) would say that only the acts of theists have moral worth. Yet, the authors of the study imply, without even discussing Kant, that the acts of atheists have moral worth.
The link to the mentioned study takes readers only to an abstract (to read the study in its entirety will cost you $25 bucks, and I did not shell out $25 bucks), but I did read the abstract, thoroughly, and will post it here also.
Past research argues that religious commitments shape individuals’ prosocial sentiments, including their generosity and solidarity. But what drives the prosociality of less religious people? Three studies tested the hypothesis that, with fewer religious expectations of prosociality, less religious individuals’ levels of compassion will play a larger role in their prosocial tendencies. In Study 1, religiosity moderated the relationship between trait compassion and prosocial behavior such that compassion was more critical to the generosity of less religious people. In Study 2, a compassion induction increased generosity among less religious individuals but not among more religious individuals. In Study 3, state feelings of compassion predicted increased generosity across a variety of economic tasks for less religious individuals but not among more religious individuals. These results suggest that the prosociality of less religious individuals is driven to a greater extent by levels of compassion than is the prosociality of the more religious.
I’d just like to point out that an individual’s moral worth should most definitely not be measured by whether they have religious leanings, or not. The Bible, which a large percentage of the religious look to for guidance in their lives, is not an instruction book of morals. The revelations contained within the Bible have nothing to do with morality, but rather, with individual radical change of being.
Beauty in the Final Fare of the Day
Via Bill St. Clair, we are pointed to a post of Aaron Manley Smith’s titled A Sweet Lesson on Patience, which relates the tale of a New York taxi driver’s final fare of the day. The post follows in its entirety.
A NYC Taxi driver wrote:
I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. ‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.
After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie.
By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.
There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard
box filled with photos and glassware.‘Would you carry my bag out to the car?’ she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.
She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.
She kept thanking me for my kindness. ‘It’s nothing’, I told her.. ‘I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.’
‘Oh, you’re such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, ‘Could you drive through downtown?’
‘It’s not the shortest way,’ I answered quickly..
‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.
I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. ‘I don’t have any family left,’ she continued in a soft voice..‘The doctor says I don’t have very long.’ I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.
‘What route would you like me to take?’ I asked.
For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.
We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.
Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, ‘I’m tired.Let’s go now’.
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.
They must have been expecting her.I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.
‘How much do I owe you?’ She asked, reaching into her purse.
‘Nothing,’ I said
‘You have to make a living,’ she answered.
‘There are other passengers,’ I responded.
Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.
‘You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life..
I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?
On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.
We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.
But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
Tuesday, May 01, 2012
“There Are No Constants in the Science of Economics”
Joan of Argghh! brings to my attention that Robert Wenzel was invited to speak at a recent New York Federal Reserve luncheon. After reading through Wenzel’s speech, I have to agree with Joan’s observation that it is highly unlikely that Mr. Wenzel will be invited to speak again in the future, because the truth is too difficult to bear.
...I suspect my views are so different from those of you here today that my comments will be a complete failure in convincing you to do what I believe should be done, which is to close down the entire Federal Reserve System.
My views, I suspect, differ from beginning to end. From the proper methodology to be used in the science of economics, to the manner in which the macro-economy functions, to the role of the Federal Reserve, and to the accomplishments of the Federal Reserve, I stand here confused as to how you see the world so differently than I do.
I simply do not understand most of the thinking that goes on here at the Fed and I do not understand how this thinking can go on when in my view it smacks up against reality.
Please allow me to begin with methodology, I hold the view developed by such great economic thinkers as Ludwig von Mises, Friedrich Hayek and Murray Rothbard that there are no constants in the science of economics similar to those in the physical sciences.
In the science of physics, we know that water freezes at 32 degrees. We can predict with immense accuracy exactly how far a rocket ship will travel filled with 500 gallons of fuel. There is preciseness because there are constants, which do not change and upon which equations can be constructed.
There are no such constants in the field of economics since the science of economics deals with human action, which can change at any time. (bold by ed.)
Mr. Wenzel would have done all of us a service if he would have handed each attendee a copy of Ludwig Von Mises Human Action Pocket Edition. They’re only ten bucks a piece, currently, though human actions may precipitate a price change.
Monday, April 30, 2012
Mack Lake Fire at 11:15 p.m.
Thanks to my brother, The Wizard, for taking this photo of the Mack Lake fire. 1,500 acres burned, last Wednesday night (04.25.2012), and as the forest burned, 8 miles due east of my place, we noted its glow in the sky. We first noted the glow at around 9 p.m. as we sat at the campfire, but not at the intensity we viewed at 11:15 p.m. The photo is a 15 second exposure from my camp.
I’m Here, But At Shep’s Bend
There’s a section of the South Branch of the Au Sable river which is known to certain anglers as Shep’s Bend. Shep’s Bend received its moniker some years ago, in honor of Shep, who, after returning from the Korean war, set up a camp there as his home for a year or so. The spot is about a 10 or 15 minute hike from the closest two track, and it is not visited regularly by most anglers as there are easier sections of the river to access. There’s a seeping spring for fresh water close at hand, and, if you cast about, you can still locate Shep’s old firepit. Shep passed away last year, but Shep’s Bend will remain for the angler willing to hike for a bit of seclusion and a chance at a nice trout.
I’m here, but at Shep’s Bend, still.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Gone Angling
Northward I will go, well, after I drop the Lovely Melis at the airport, finalize a bit of business, and conduct one last inventory of supplies required for this venture. I should return in a week. At least that is the plan currently. I leave you with some quotes of Izzak Walton.
And let me tell you that every misery I miss is a new blessing.
I have known a very good, fisher angle diligently four or six hours for a river carp, and not have a bite
[T]is not all fishing to fish.
You will find angling to be like the virtue of humility, which has a calmness of spirit and a world of other blessings attending upon it. (I’ve found this to be true - ed.)
That which is everybody’s business, is nobody’s business.
Let the blessing of St. Peter’s Master be . . . upon all that are lovers of virtue; and dare trust in His providence; and be quiet; and go a-Angling.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Irregular Flow of Conversation
“Putting in a new lawn, Luke?” - “Nope, a garden. If I have to maintain it, it may as well be something I can eat.”
———-
“Hand me that teguila, will ya?” - “Ya mean juice?” - “Yes, I think I do.”
———
“Euchre! That was fun.” - “Yeah, for you.”
———
“The recipe called for nuts on top, but I didn’t put any on because I know you don’t like that, John.” - ‘You’re a good friend, Pfeif. Can I have another brownie?”
———
“I think the critter would eat that paper towel.” - sound of hysterical laughter - “I think I’ve gotten bacon stuck in my nose.” “Dang, I did have bacon in my nose!”
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Just Walking Quote
Don’t walk behind me; I may not lead. Don’t walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.
Going to the Water Old School
Monday, I’ll head North for a week of wading some of my favorite waters, campfires, copious amounts of cigars and bourbon, and a testing of an old stick made new. The weather prognosis for the next ten days, which is fluctuating wildly every twelve hours it seems, is tolerably conducive to some fine early season flyfishing. The Fishing Report, which is updated weekly and thus lacks the wild fluctuations of the weather prognosis, is also tolerably conducive to some fine early season flyfishing, though, as the fishing report suggests, the catching of trout may very well also fluctuate wildly.
This time of year makes me feel quite a bit like a kid at Christmas, not only because trout season is opening, but because I’ve an old stick made new to take to the water, an 8’ Granger Victory Bamboo flyrod, which was made sometime in the 1920s or 1930s. When the rod was given to me, last year at this time, it was sorely in need of some TLC, so off to RKP Cane Rods it went. The rod’s stay at RKP was extended, I just picked it this past Wednesday, and it was worth the wait.
Here’s a couple of pics, which do not do the rod justice.
About
The author is an ex-submariner, questioner of authority, cigar smoking fly-fishing fanatic who wants to live to be 103
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Most recent entries
- Sacralization of the State via The Constitution
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