Voodoo Sciences

Bouncing off a post by LCAggie Sith at Hookers and Booze, this comment:

Jerry Pournelle’s essay on “Voodoo Sciences” should be read by every American with more active brain cells than a 10-year-old cracked cock of kimchi has. That, of course, excludes the electric sheep on the Left, automatons mimicking human behavior by parroting Mass MEdia Podpeople Hivemind memes, perhaps (no, probably; no, precicely) because they do NOT possess more active brain cells than a 10-year-old cracked cock of kimchi.

Pournelle’s essay really resonates with me. Sure, my degrees and most of my life’s work experiences are in fine arts (music) and humanities (history, philosophy, theology, literature, languages, etc.), but I had a serious crush on the science sciences early on and found statistics much more fascinating after a few semesters of calculus (because that experience made more of the formulas make sense). Now, after another 40+ years of observing the passing scene, Pournelle’s comments ring even truer.

Early in the essay, speaking about just one of the “voodoo sciences”, Pournelle commented,

“We have by law a Council of Economic Advisors to report to the president, while the Congress has its own staff of economists to tell them what they should do.

“From all the evidence I’ve seen, we’d do as well to give the president a Council of Voodoo Practitioners, and let the Congress consult its Chief Astrologer. In fact, I suspect that a chief hungan and mambo would do less harm than our present economists: we’d be less likely to take them seriously. However much our Chief Voodoo Advisor protested that his work was scientific, we’d demand some kind of track record, some evidence that his predictions might once in a while come true; while we impose no such burdens on economists, which is just as well, since their track record is one of universally dismal failure.”

Hmmm… new constitutional amendment? Bills should have clear objectives stated up front, and if the laws/regulations resulting can be shown to not obtain those objectives, then the laws/regulations go *poof*? Goodbye Headstart. Goodbye 99.999% of Department of Education and EPA mandates. Heck, goodbye roughly 85% of “feddle gummint” laws, regulations and “bureaucrappy”.

Balance the budget and reduce the debt quickly, that would, eh? Heck, putting “feddle gummint bureaucraps” and “law enfArcement” officers (primarily those engaged in blatant infringement of human/civil/constitutionally guaranteed rights via the unconstitutional “war on drugs”* and darned near every “security theater” law and regulation) on the dole would be less expensive than paying their salaries and benefits. Let them eat cake. Crow cake.

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Old Dogs, Old Tricks

…and old news, but still laughable. The Zero’s people have been pillorying The Romney Android for transporting his dog on top of his car in a dog carrier (complete with improvised windshield) in 1983 as cruel and unfeeling. I agree. The poor thing couldn’t hang its head out the window into a stream of 70mph wind! Poor thing!

OTOH… Stolen:

Q: What did Barack Hussein Obama Soetoro‘s dad tell him at the dog park?

A: “Don’t play with your food.”

And…

Late Bloomer

I’ve always been a late bloomer in nearly every aspect of my life. Just slow, I guess, or maybe I’ve just been distracted a lot of the time by the one or two areas where I “bloomed” early, I dunno.

Anywho, I do know what delayed my love affair with coffee for a while. Sophomore year in high school. Band trip into Mexico. We stayed in all kindsa places–whatever the communities would arrange for lodging. Big towns/cities: maybe commercial lodging facilities. Small towns? Notsomuch. I recall lodging accommodations in a convent–yeh, a convent. They were pretty hard up to take on a bunch of high school boys as lodgers even for a night.

Breakfast the next morning? Some questionable egg dish, tortillas and some “fresh ground” coffee. No, I mean it tasted like some ground they’d just dug up and put in the pot to boil. Overnight. Those of us who tried it wanted to take back the previous night’s concert for the town.

It was four years before I tried coffee again.

A Garage Sale Just Won’t Do the trick

Gettin’ serious about cleanup stuff. Most of what I imagine I’ll end up just pitching out of the garage is stuff I’ve said, “I can think of X number of uses for that,” and just put back. Quite often, such junk has proven quite useful, but a lot has become, “Yeh, I could use it, but after all this time I probably won’t” stuff.

But sometimes, as I’ve been sorting, I come across lil gems that just hit the sweet spot of, “Huh. I can use that right now.” Take the box(es) of lil odds ‘n’ ends from a car I sold for scrap. It’d just gotten to the point where it was fixable, but not worth fixing, and since it was a model I knew my “guy” was just going to take to the crusher and sell for scrap metal pricing, I pulled a lot of lil stuff off it before giving him a call. Like those gas struts for the tailgate and hood. Good stuff, Maynard. But the first piece I put to immediate use was… some barely worn disc brake pads.

*huh?* Yep. Found a nice, level piece of concrete and cleaned one of ’em off (a few spiraling “sanding” motions did the trick). Pulled out a pocket knife I’d noticed needed a fresh edge and… it was a really nice whet stone. Put the edge back in shape very quickly.

Rabbit trail: OK, yes, before you ask, of course it was a non-asbestos brake pad. I did say it was barely worn, implying it was fairly new, didn’t I? But, to be frank, even if it had been an asbestos brake pad, I’d not have cared. The asbestos used in brake pads was of a different kind than that which has been clinically and epidemiologically shown to be linked to some cancers and lung diseases. In fact, of the six or more different kinds of minerals called asbestos, only one has been linked to those kinds of health issues. But even if it had been of the “bad” type, it still wouldn’t have mattered, since the use I was making of it would have posed a vanishingly small health risk.

Now, I need to get back to my sorting: keep (‘cos I KNOW I’ll use it… relatively soon), yard sale, give away, toss. (When I get the furniture I have stored in the garage out and down to the local food bank/thrift store, that’ll make a HUGE dent.)

Hmmm, probably CraigsList as well for some of the more obviously usable things, and even some of the “This junk just CAN’T go to the landfill!” stuff…

One Thing About eBooks…

…and particularly Kindle books, is the ease of taking notes within the books–and searching notes. This is especially useful for those books that have error reporting enabled. One of my fav notes to submit in an error report is, “Consult Inigo Montoya. (No, not that quote; the other one.)” I generally slug that comment in wherever a word is misused. And, oh, am I finding a slew of those! The quality of proof readingand copy editing has really, really declined in recent years, and in self-published books it is frequently non-existent… or of a “quality” that can only–charitably–be described as comparable to toxic sewer sludge.

Oh, well, at least I have the joy of making LOADS of snarky notes, and even–happy-happy-joy-joy–submitting a few as “error reports”.

Gottalovethat.

Not Exactly Divina Commedia, Perhaps

More like, Commedia Nera… maybe.

Hey, my folks are approaching 90. They have doctors’ appointments just about every day of the week (and this last week definitely every day), and their lives seem to revolve around medical tests, consultants with specialists, surgeries, therapy and who knows what else.

At least with the weight I’ve lost, I’ll not have to buy a new suit for any funerals.

See Sydney Carton for the relevant viewpoint on death and dying:

It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.

I would miss ’em, but really, “…it is a far, far better rest…” Still, glad they’re having fun with their busy medical schedule, since I really don’t want to start missing them. Selfish of me, I know, but there it is. As long as they’re having fun, let ’em rack up the med hours. They’ve certainly earned it.

Timeless Wisdom

I don’t know who first said it (and am not even sure where I last saw it *heh*), but this ranks up there with, “Never get involved in a land war in Asia,”* as timeless wisdom:

“A human without at least one sharp pointy thing and the ability to start a fire is just whining hairless ape in most survival situations.”

Yeh, I feel naked without at least two or three “sharp pointy things” on my person at all times, and since I can start a fire with my burning gaze of scorn… *heh*

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