Irony? We Gots Some

In the kingdom of the blind, the ironic one-eyed man will hand out printed notes showing people how to get their government swag…

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Just One–of Many–of the Dangers of Democracy

[N.B. I’ve seen ironically elitist criticism of José Ortega y Gasset for being an elitist. Most folks who criticize him for noting some of the serious problems that must necessarily ensue from allowing democratic memes too much cultural influence are pseudo-intellectual snobs who don’t even bother–or are unable–to read and grasp some of the core ideas in his most scathing rebuke of “Mass Man” in “The Revolt of the Masses”. Here, I am not going to make direct reference to Ortega, but just note that his articulations of issues do inform what I want to try to convey here, in some very small part. The deficiencies in this blogpost shouldn’t be attributed to his influence though. No, those deficiencies are all mine.]


 

 

 
Democracy as a political system has its own problems. One, of course, is that time worn warning that once some of the People discover they can vote themselves largesse from the public purse, corruption inevitably ensues, and the road to the failure of democracy as a political system is not long following. But societal effects can be harmful, too. When popular culture is ever more democratized, the process of dumbing down society to the lowest common denominator becomes a process of self-perpetuating debasement.

Let me illustrate this debasement using a very, very limited example which the reader may use to draw his own examples. Lexicographers eventually bow to even the basest misuses of words and finally legitimize the misuse by denoting it in a dictionary entry. Here is one such example: “healthy”. “Healthy” was once a word–and still is among literate persons–with a primary denotation of an organism that enjoyed good (vigorous, robust) health. Its misuse for years has now brought it to the point where is is used to refer to both live and dead materials that may promote (often only in the minds of the promoters) good health. Whereas once, in referring to the health of an organism, it referred primarily to the state of being or condition of something that was alive, now it may refer to some inanimate material to be consumed or even inanimate object designed to act upon or be used by some animate being to promote that being’s health. Once, the word used to denote that latter meaning was “healthful” and so the two words provided useful information in distinction to each other when used. Not so nowadays.

Losing useful distinctions means losing useful meanings, and language is first and foremost about conveying meaning (here I usually insert my rant about those utter idiots who blather about semantics as though distinctions in meanings were… meaningless, useless twaddle, but I am to tired to the bone to deal with useless idiots right now), and anything that broadens distinctions to the point of removing useful distinctions dumbs down the exchange of meaning.

Every time someone is allowed to misuse a word without being corrected, allowed to spread its misuse, society becomes stupider. And that, dear reader, is especially dangerous in a society governed via any elements of democracy. People who do not even have the words to express themselves with clear and full meaning will not be able to rule themselves wisely… or chose wisely when selecting/electing those they represent.

Oh, this thing with dumbed down language as a result of validation of misused is just the tip of the iceberg, as it were, that wrecks overly-democratic societies. Largely, it’s not so much the misuse of words that destroys communication but the very democratic tendency to accept that just because many people do such and so then that makes such and so acceptable. (Didn’t your mother ever warn you about jumping off a cliff just because “ALL” your friends were doing so? Hmmm?)

This dumb-down spiral applies all across the board: clothing fads that make slovenly (or slutty or stupid… or slutty and stupid and slovenly *sigh*) attire normative, popular entertainment–whether it be the mindless circuses of spectator sports, the pernicious drivel of TV and movies or the musicless grunts and moans and banging around of most contemporary fake music–the acceptance of stupid expressions of stupid people as (graphic) “art”: all this and more works to debase society in a society that values the opinions of stupid and subliterate people as highly–and in many cases nowadays more highly–as someone who can actually tell the difference between a well-written book and what Holly Lisle calls “Suckitudinous” writing–or even just badly-written schlock; someone who can actually hear the difference between music and… top 40 crap, someone who has actually read The Founders and can tell when such as Nancy Pelosi is blowing smoke up folks’ skirts defending unconstitutional legislation as a legitimate exercise of governmental authority, etc.

Yes, it does make a difference that fewer and fewer people in our society can discriminate between classes of objects, events, statements… or even know that there can be good things about discrimination.

I could have used more politically charged examples than the less than life-threatening “healthy” word misuse, but discussing the misuse (and even misunderstanding by subliterate morons) of “racist”–for example–probably would have resulted in some SPAM comments accusing me of racism. Oops. *heh*

DGARA. Accuse away. 😉

Continue reading “Just One–of Many–of the Dangers of Democracy”

Give Peas a Chance

[stolen]

    Let There Be Peas on Earth

    Let there be peas on Earth,
    And take away broccoli;
    Let there be peas on Earth,
    For peas are what’s meant to be.
    Peas are delicious,
    Round and firm and sweet;
    Broccoli looks like a forest,
    And trees were not meant to eat!

    Please let there be peas on Earth,
    But rid it of broccoli.
    I’d like all peas on Earth,
    But never the broccoli.
    So, eat some peas,
    Bring me some peas,
    Peas are the best for me!
    Let there be peas on Earth,
    But take all the broccoli!

All I have to say is that if someone wants a person to “take all the broccoli” then I’m his man. Yum.

Oh, The Joys of Typos

Not. Recently, I added a plugin to *cough* “optimize” a few things that needed tweaking around here, more or less “automagically”. Thing is, it did require a wee bit of input from me, and, as you know, my typing technique is, again more or less, urm, more or less, less.

In the blog title entry, I left out an “O”. No, not the one that would have been inconsequential and an obvious typo. The other one.

No wonder I have been receiving some weird porn SPAM comments the last few days… *heh*

Oh. Well.

Many thanks to the great guy at Bluehost tech support who ran it down for me. And shame on both my regular visitors for not telling me sooner. *heh*

The Zero Fears His Superpower

Or, at least The Zero would if he could count to five without taking his shoes off.

 

 

 

 

Check out The Zero’s face in this video. “WTF?!? What’s he talkin’ ’bout, Willis? Is that MATH?!?” If you’ve ever wondered what Odumbo’s face looks like when confronted with numbers, well, here ya go:

http://youtu.be/o1yTY2MciOk

Oh, and during all the demonizing of Ryan and his budgetary proposals, do remember that they guy who was THE ZERO’S PICK to head up his “deficit committee” and represent the administration’s policies, Erskine Bowles (Clinton SBA head, later WH chief of staff), über-Democrat, had a different view:

Just sayin’. Serious policy wonks don’t share the views of Mass MEdia Podpeople like Rachel Maddow and Michael Moore. *sigh* The only real negative I can see in having Ryan as a vice presidential candidate is that he’ll be wasted “debating” Cwazy Unka Joe (if The Zero’s campaign even lets that massacre happen). At the top of the ticket, he’d have a chance to obliterate The Zero, metaphorically nuking him from orbit.

Oh, fun. Jerry Pournelle suggests (in my words, not his) that with the Romney/Ryan strengths on  economic policy against The Zero’s (and zero-cubed, Cwazy Unka Joe) profound weaknesses, some Dhimmicraps might be tempted to play the “no foreign policy experience” card… and that that would be a real tarbaby for the Dhims, as

 

“…anyone including Elmer Fudd has more experience in foreign affairs than the current President had on taking office.”

Bazinga!

“…The Age of Knowing How to Do Things”

The post title is the “hook” of a commercial I just saw for some sort of erectile dysfunction drug I’ve forgotten (never even saw) because of the hook and the setting. You see, the premise was that the featured guy in the ad knew how to get his truck out of a mud wallow he’d driven into. Problem was, he didn’t know jack shit about how to drive his truck, hauling the horse trailer, because he drove right into the mud wallow he got stuck in instead of driving on the high spots on the two-track he was on.

Ignorant dumbass. The hook should have been, “The age of not even knowing jack shit.” Knowing how to cause oneself to get stuck in the first place trumps knowing how to get oneself out of a mud wallow once one screws up–out of ignorance and stupidity–and gets oneself stuck.

Anywho… The huge disconnect between the ad’s hook and the circumstances completely destroyed any suspension of disbelief, killed any hope of me actually watching enough of the thing to actually hear the name of the drug.

(Of course, it’s the stupid ad writer who doesn’t know jack shit.)


BTW, if one doesn’t already KNOW to avoid driving a vehicle–especially while pulling a trailer–it helps to not be stupid and to actually think about one’s driving…

I Like My Kindle Fire a Lot…

…and I use it daily, but this looks like an interesting device in a similar form factor. Promo video:

Of course, it’d mean more penetration by the Evil Google Empire (I much prefer the not-so-evil, pretty good Amazon Empire, besides, amazons are pretty cool ;-)), but there are ways to fox ’em a wee bit.

Fun, Fun, Fun (’til My Daddy Takes the T-Bird Away… )

Well, maybe not that kind of fun, but not bad, nonetheless.

The re-roofing of twc central (RW) is progressing. Minor setback. Make a short story long(er):

Installing metal panels over the existing asphalt shingles: use 1″x4″ purlins over the shingles, screwed into the deck and joists below, metal panels installed on the purlins.

OK, no biggie, except… 1x4s at local hardware-cum-mini-lumber yard, or even at Lowes: WTF?!? That much?!? Nuh-uh, baby. Further away than local hardware-cum-mini-lumber yard store but closer than Lowes “fell off the back of a truck lumber yard”: reasonable, but… The store was way low on 1x4s but had a pot load of 10′ 2x4s for $2 each. Rip ’em down the middle? Nominal 1x4s. Close enough. Bought a passel of ’em; brought ’em home and began ripping ’em up.

Table saw died. *sigh* OK, replaced table saw (much faster than repairing the old one, although I have that in my hip pocket for a later mini-project: repair and sell) and began ripping again. Smooth move. I’m still under the cost of 1x4s at Lowes (let alone the “cat’s back-riding” local hardware-cum-mini-lumber yard) and have replaced a slowly-decaying power tool.

Still to go: installing the safety anchors (which I will be leaving on the roof permanently), the purlins and then the steel. Working on the first two on that list today, until the heat drives me off the roof.

The most fun thing in all this, so far, is that I’ve not done anything quite this physically demanding for the better part of two decades, and while I have the typical muscle aches–and my constant “Olde Pharte’s joint aches, etc.–to contend with, so far the pain’s all of the good kind: I can actually feel the good I’m doing myself. Like it.

Most UNfun thing so far: the buckets of sweat. Oh, it’s not all that bad in some ways, but having a puddle literally pour out of my sunglasses onto some work I’m doing is annoying, although at least that clears the puddle of sweat out of my field of vision. *heh* Playing in the attic (to replace a gas vent that needed replacing before the roofing went on) was interesting–like being in a low-ceilinged, stuffy sauna. Temps outside were 106F and in the attic? On fire, man. Going back into the unconditioned, ambient temp, garage from the attic? Felt like air conditioning. Chilly, dude.


As is Tradition for men in my family for carpentry or mechanicking work (going back as far as my paternal great-grandfather, at least), I have already offered a Blood Sacrifice to the Handyman Spirit. Yeh, yeh: I neglected to put my gloves on before moving the steel panels from where they were off-loaded to a better place for beginning to feed them up to the roof. Blood Sacrifice… What does not kill me hurts like the dickens for a while (and then fades into the background of a world of hurt *heh*), then heals… or not (so far all my past “Handyman Spirit Blood Sacrifice” wounds have healed, for various values of “heal” :-)).

An “F” for Test Design

Lovely Daughter sent me the photo below (modified to obscure personal information of both student and teacher). If I had been grading the pictured test, the student would have been credited with 100% correct answers and the test designer with a big fat zero for amphibolous (equivocal) wording. Just sayin’.