Thursday, June 17, 2010

You are not great just because your country is rich and powerful


I just finished reading Ron Paul's excellent book The Revolution - A Manifesto.

Seriously, a must read for anyone, especially Americans.

Ron Paul is truly a well educated, intelligent and no nonsense type of guy.

I couldn't resist sharing this small excerpt:

“In other words, the problem of empire-building is essentially mystical.

It must somehow foster the impression that a man is great in the degree that his nation is great; that a German as such is superior to a Belgian as such; an Englishman, to an Irishman; an American, to a Mexican: merely because the first-named countries are in each case more powerful than their comparatives.

And people who have no individual stature whatsoever are willing to accept this poisonous nonsense because it gives them a sense of importance without the trouble of any personal effort.”

Felix Morley (1957), in an essay explaining Hitler’s approach

Sunday, June 13, 2010

2 theories of effort

Indeed, the two self-theories take very different views of effort. To incremental theorists, exertion is positive. Since incremental theorists believe that ability is malleable, they see working harder as a way to get better. By contrast, says Dweck, "the entity theory is a system that requires a diet of easy successes." In this schema, if you have to work hard, it means you're not very good.

People therefore choose easy targets that, when hit, affirm their existing abilities but do little to expand them. In a sense, entity theorists want to look like masters without expending the effort to attain mastery. – Daniel Pink, Drive

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Why do old people drive so goddam slow?



Why do old people drive so goddam slow? You have had the experience – stuck in a fort-mile-per-hour speed zone in a one-lane road behind some brittle, ancient creature who’s barely going thirty as he daydreams about LBJ. Meanwhile, YER in a rush but the old asshole’s driving as if he’s got all the time in the world. Hey – I got news for ya shithead. Yer eighty-seven years old. Death is not only right around the corner – he might be riding shotgun. If I were eighty-seven years old – full well knowing I might have a heart attack or an aneurysm or if I cut a hard fart the wrong way it might actually blow an internal gasket and make my entire insides explode all over my leather 1994 Cadillac Seville seats – I would drive so fucking fast you would barely be able to identify my car if I ran you over. And what if I did run you over – what’re they gonna do, give me life in jail? I’m eighty-goddam-seven! I think old people should be forced to actually drive the same speed as their age. Eighty-seven is your age AND your speed limit. You better hope I don’t hit my late eighties or early nineties because I will guarantee everyone right now – you better get the fuck out of my way. I’ll kill young people just for spite. And when I say young I mean anyone under seventy-five.

- Dr Dennis Leary, Why We Suck

Why shouldn't I work for the N.S.A.?



Such a great monologue by Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting.

Why shouldn't I work for the N.S.A.? That's a tough one, but I'll take a shot. Say I'm working at N.S.A. Somebody puts a code on my desk, something nobody else can break. Maybe I take a shot at it and maybe I break it. And I'm real happy with myself, 'cause I did my job well. But maybe that code was the location of some rebel army in North Africa or the Middle East. Once they have that location, they bomb the village where the rebels were hiding and fifteen hundred people I never met, never had no problem with, get killed. Now the politicians are sayin', "Oh, send in the Marines to secure the area" 'cause they don't give a shit. It won't be their kid over there, gettin' shot. Just like it wasn't them when their number got called, 'cause they were pullin' a tour in the National Guard. It'll be some kid from Southie takin' shrapnel in the ass. And he comes back to find that the plant he used to work at got exported to the country he just got back from. And the guy who put the shrapnel in his ass got his old job, 'cause he'll work for fifteen cents a day and no bathroom breaks. Meanwhile, he realizes the only reason he was over there in the first place was so we could install a government that would sell us oil at a good price. And, of course, the oil companies used the skirmish over there to scare up domestic oil prices. A cute little ancillary benefit for them, but it ain't helping my buddy at two-fifty a gallon. And they're takin' their sweet time bringin' the oil back, of course, and maybe even took the liberty of hiring an alcoholic skipper who likes to drink martinis and fuckin' play slalom with the icebergs, and it ain't too long 'til he hits one, spills the oil and kills all the sea life in the North Atlantic. So now my buddy's out of work and he can't afford to drive, so he's got to walk to the fuckin' job interviews, which sucks 'cause the shrapnel in his ass is givin' him chronic hemorrhoids. And meanwhile he's starvin', 'cause every time he tries to get a bite to eat, the only blue plate special they're servin' is North Atlantic scrod with Quaker State. So what did I think? I'm holdin' out for somethin' better. I figure fuck it, while I'm at it why not just shoot my buddy, take his job, give it to his sworn enemy, hike up gas prices, bomb a village, club a baby seal, hit the hash pipe and join the National Guard? I could be elected president.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Mt Washington Weather



On the afternoon of April 12, 1934, Salvatore Pagliuca, a meteorologist at the summit weather observatory on Mount Washington, had an experience no one else has had before or since.

Mount Washington sometimes gets a little gusty, to put it mildly, and this was a particularly breezy day. In the previous twenty-four hours, the wind speed had not Fallen below 107 miles an hour, and often gusted much higher. When it came time for Pagliuca to take the afternoon readings, the wind was so strong that he tied a rope around his waist and had two colleagues take hold of the other end. As it was, the men had difficulty just getting the weather station door open and needed all their strength to keep Pagliuca from becoming a kind of human kite. How he managed to reach his weather instruments and take readings is not known, nor are his words when he finally tumbled back in, though « Jeeeeeeeesus! » would seem an apt possibility.

What is certain is that Pagliuca had just experienced a surface wind speed of 231 miles an hour. Nothing approaching that velocity has ever been recorded elsewhere.

In The Worst Weather on Earth : A History of the Mt. Washington Observatory, William Lowell Putnam drily notes : « There may be worse weather from time to time, at some forbidding place on Planet Earth, but it has yet to be reliably recorded. » Among the Mount Washington weather station’s many other records are : most weather instruments destroyed, most wind in twenty-four hours (nearly 3,100 miles of it), and lowest windchill (a combination of 100-mph winds and a temperature of -47°F, a severity unmatched even in Antartica).

Washington owes its curiously extreme weather not so much to height or latitude, though both are a factor, as to its position at the precise point High altitude weather systems from Canada and the Great Lakes pile into moist, comparatively warm air from the Atlantic and southern United States. In consequence, it receives 246 inches of snow a year and snowpacks of twenty feet. In one memorable Storm in 1969, 98 inches of snow (that’s eight feet) fell on the summit in three days, Wind is a particular feature; on average it blows at hurricane force (over 75 mph) on two winter days in three and on 40 percent of days overall. Because of the length and bitterness of its winters, the average mean annual temperature at the summit is a meager 52°F – a good 25 degrees lower than at its base. It is a brutal mountain, and yet people go up there – or at least try to – even in winter.

– Bill Bryson, A Walk in the Woods


A fun experiment at the summit!

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

When Playing Safe Becomes Dangerous


In the Mid '70s, when I was still a kid, my parents took me to the zoo. We lived in Abidjan, Ivory Coast (West Africa) and the thing I remember the most about that visit is the baby lion that roamed freely in the zoo restaurant and elected residence under our table to nibble at my father's leather boots.

I am not talking about a robot, a stuffed animal, a 3D image or even a leashed animal. I am talking about a living and totally free baby lion.

Imagine the same thing today, in North America. So un-Disney-esque! I mean, what about the risks, the insurances, ... What if a customer was to step on a baby lion poop with Prada shoes or if that wild animal was to attack and maim a small child. Oh my God! Lawsuits forever. Bankrupcy, prison and a life of misery.

Yet, it's funny how back in the days, nothing terrible happened. It was a time of biking without helmets, riding in the cabs of pickup trucks and children sleeping on the back seat of the car without seatbelts or padded toddler seats. And yet, we're here fine and healthy.

By wanting desperately to play safe, we delude ourselves. The only security comes from within. From our alertness and skillset. By leveling downwards to make the World a safer place for all the idiots and Darwin-Award candidates, we both fail at the task (If you make something idiot-proof, they will come up with better idiots.), but we also help creating a very dull and boring world.

Our lives have become so safe and boring that some of us need to test themselves in extreme sports, exotic travels or drug and alcohol abuse. The rest are becoming duller every day.

Personnaly, I prefer baby lions.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

The Rest is Icing on Your Cake


I've learned early on in life that the 2 most important skills you need are:

1. The ability to evaluate people accurately (as fast as possible)

2. The ability to influence them (using what you learned with skill No 1)

The reason is simple: 95% of your success - and problems - in life are directly linked to the people you surround yourself with. In fact, you need only one really negative person (what Mike Lipkin calls a "one person recession") around to ruin your life.

Learn to identify and flush all the downers and losers as fast as possible.

Refuse to spend valuable time with average people.

Look out for brilliant, fun and inspiring people. And be sure to add value to their life.

Moreover, no matter what you need, want or can dream of, someone else already has. It is simply a matter of bringing them to give it to you (with money, charm, wit, friendship, etc.).

You can be the greatest genius of all time, if you can't get along with other people, you are doomed to fail.

However, if you can only master these 2 skills, the rest is icing on your cake.