Burton salts post kegging

Brewers note: You can boil up Burton salts and add them to the keg. I just did it, and although palette fatigue set in a couple beers ago, I can certainly vouch for its effectiveness. As a matter of fact, the beer will probably taste awfully hard and mineraly over corn flakes tomorrow morning. I boiled up 5 gallons worth and added half to the gallon of Winter Ale that is left in the fridge. (mmm if i do say so myself)

On a more whimsical note, remember the demons are after you as always. They hunt you down and will stop at nothing. Their goal: To crush your dreams. And, they are succeeding. They hold their pinky finger high and casually twirl it in a circle, winding up the strands of your soul in an ever greater ball of yarn before setting it aflame and hurling it onto the blazing pile. The inferno rages as they dance, each contributing their spoils as the perimeter expands to escape the overpowering but irresistible heat. The comets are ever streaming to the center.

You stand at a distance in the last whispers of the heat, close enough for a hint of warmth, far enough to shiver slightly. You hold much fuel for their celebration, but burn it with care. The more you sell, the closer you must approach to their tempting riot. If your ashes rise high enough they will find you. Your weapon is your stash, your humble assembly, and the sovereign power you wield over it. Your shiver is accompanied with purpose and grace while the flames reach ever higher in the distance.

A stray comet bounces to your feet and you throw your shirt over it to smother the flames. You hold it up and hand it to its grateful owner who approaches in distress and gratitude. Once you hadn't thought to charge for the service. Now it is accompanied with thoughts of charity, a disturbing notion. You feel the warmth approach and again reposition your sphere. You know they will one day overpower you and wonder what fate you will choose.

Technical Writing

Writing is so much more fun when it isn't encumbered by those awful constraints of reality, technical accuracy, and market demand. It's kind of depressing how so much mental energy is expended writing stuff that people only want to read when they are already pissed-off because they couldn't figure it out themselves. Then, when they can't find an answer right away they scream bloody murder that the writing is bad (when if they had done a little reading earlier they would have discovered they were asking the wrong question anyway).

Maybe that's why I prefer to write fantasy and distribute it for free; it's such a stark contrast. It can't be wrong and if it sucks you don't lose your job.

But, every so often I'm reminded that writing about music technology can be pretty fun. Right now I am trying to demonstrate how Bach or Beethoven would have used Finale to compose, say, Ouverture No. 2 in B minor, BWV 1067 or the good old Adagio sostenuto (mvmt 1) from Piano Sonata no. 14 in C-sharp minor "Quasi una fantasia", Op. 27, No. 2 (you think he could have thought of a shorter name).

But, I just end up listening to the music and never get around to the writing. And then I decide to write a blog about it.

Igor and Wolf Man

Igor was a mad scientist. One day at the lab he overheard some coworkers talk about how mad he was. They all came down with a nasty case of Tourettes a few weeks later. They learned not to mess with a reclusive geneticist.

He was certifiably nutz. He engineered a banana that doubled human strength and decided to distribute them to the local high school baseball team for fun. That night Timmy hit a 560 foot home run into a backyard swimming pool. Igor's hyena-like chuckle repulsed the proud mother who sat next to him.

His basement was rife with the glitter of blinking lights and monitors. It opened to a 12,000 square foot biotech cavern with petaflops of processing power on quantum machines he invented himself. The walls were encased with specimens of human organs, tissues, fetuses. A holographic human body hovered in the middle of the room.

Igor plugged an IV into his arm and began typing furiously in front of his twelve foot plasma monitor while chain smoking. In front of him rotated a giant double-helix, a strand of DNA. His complex series of applications displayed a graphic representation of genes being exchanged and re-coded as the hologram grew horns, then wings, then flippers. He turned to observe his creation and chuckled, then plugged one nostril to take a long snort off a mirror in front of him before shivering and convulsing violently. The cavern roared with the racket of his chair bouncing against the concrete floor in uncontrollable tremors.

A relaxed figure sat across the room, carefully typing into another giant monitor. He was casually grasping slices of pizza and lifting them to his canine snout before devouring them whole. He wiped his hybrid paw on his pants and while continuing to type with the other, coughing and throwing pieces of pepperoni at Igor while cursing the wafts of smoke circulating among the cavern.

"Can't you find some other hobby, I seriously can't handle the stench."

"Not one I can do while splicing genes, get back to work."

"Wolf Man" was a creation of Igor's. Half man, half golden retriever with synapses three-hundred times faster than the average human's. Igor didn't trust other humans, so when he needed help, he decided to genetically modify his fuzzy best friend. His unconventional gene therapy gradually introduced human characteristics: opposable thumbs, longevity, bipedal posture, and, with some crafty nanobots, superhuman/superdog intelligence. Wolf Man did most of the grunt work, and was half-done reverse engineering human metabolism.

Whenever Wolf Man finished an organ, Igor gave him an aggressive scratch behind the ear...which he loathed with uncontrollable tolerance. It was that god-awful laugh.

Quote of the day

There are two things which cannot be attacked in front: ignorance and narrow-mindedness. They can only be shaken by the simple development of the contrary qualities. They will not bear discussion. -Lord Acton

Golf Clap

The thunder of the human spirit evokes tectonic tremors every so often. You notice these things if you monitor ground-penetrating radar like I do. No Country for Old Men acquired four Academy Awards. It was a fantastic achievement for the Coen brothers and the whole cast/crew. Oh, and the author was mentioned too. There he was, blip, a one-second clip of him among the nobodies. No, I'm not going to mention his name, per his request.

How is it so seemly for him to be sitting in the audience in relative obscurity? Maybe it's the pleasant, subtle possibility that someone can triumph for the sake of their creation itself without being the least bit motivated by the scourges of fame. As if the writing is actually worth something incalculable in currency. I can't prove that is the case, of course. Maybe it's just me, but I imagined him attending the ceremony in protest of the whole circus going on despite him and his writing...as if he lent a portion of his mind to Hollywood as a charity at great expense to himself, and in mild disdain for the inevitable hysteria.

Don't get me wrong...he's not that incredible. To giantize these individuals is an equal crime. These are regular humans and I believe they truly desire to be acknowledged as such. What would Hollywood be if not inversely proportional to these wonderful stoic figures. They don't desire to be on the cover of Slutbag Journal, Modern God, or Skanx Weekly. And, a part of them died when they saw "mental flo.." (I can't do it) on the front page of CNN. I am not ashamed to admit some are heroes of mine even if they would scoff at me for saying so. (They wouldn't be if they didn't).

So, when I saw the unspectacular figure among the sea of heads I did detect a bit of a shock wave rattle the bedrock. I might have golf clapped a bit if I had been there.

Thirsty Gnome

Last night was extremely enjoyable. Met a bunch of cool people, ate delicious grub, and served several gallons of beer to appreciative party guests. What more can a brewer ask for? Well, besides a truckload of stainless steel and a welder. Or, maybe to discover an abandoned subterranean brew pub in their back yard or something. Anyway, the gnome was thirsty and had a few pints, and tells me it's time to start thinking about my next batch. Triple Nut Oatmeal Flanders Red anyone? Suggestions welcome. (Speaking of thirst...)

Descent

ok, one more, then I'm done :)

Fluffy looks up from her mail
Then disappears into the fog
To forge a way, to take the helm
The choices tend to overwhelm.
A tipsy leprechaun appears
Stumbling on the holes and ruts
Lifts his leg high as his belt
Splash, he faceplants into mud
The local terradactyl looms
So into fog the beaten way
I blaze my new trail into gray

Descent

White hot paranormal activity does wonderful things for consciousness...and, unfortunately, psychosis. But, maybe the paranormal isn't even necessary...

I rewrote the final stanza of Descent with this in mind (added links between the stanzas). I think it's done now. But I don't know if we can ever escape from the ridge in real life. I think it tears many of us both directions all the way down into the endless valley as the sides gradually blend together in this soup of uncertainty, where normality loses all meaning...especially these days when what was impossible yesterday is part of everyday life the next.

The possible is no longer plausible.

Inspiration

in·spi·ra·tion n. sudden creativity in artistic production

When at last you don't succeed, appeal to the source of your frustrations. Look it right in the face and laugh heartily. It is not your nemesis, it is your dominion. You are its ruler, and you can take it or leave it, or crush it's tiny head with your thumb and index finger. It is a word. Once it stops working for you it is no longer important. Think about something else. Like rhubarb. Then drink a glass of tomato juice with some vodka, blow a spitball through your twisty straw, and remember who works for you. The "I word."

Don't follow these steps. Make your own steps. But originality is not your goal, just a starting point. Make them good steps. Really, really good. And don't let the fact that a twisty straw worked for me prevent you from using it differently, or even the same way if that's what floats your boat. It's all part of your own world and you couldn't use a twisty straw the exact same way as me anyway, even if you wanted to. Make an excellent twisty straw method of your own and I guarantee it will suck less than mine, unless sucking more was what you were after. It is a straw. This is starting to suck.

Never lower your expectations, expect the world to lower them to yours. No, don't do that. But recognize that some might see it that way. Like the time you requested to sing the national anthem at the conclusion of a business meeting...then actually did it...because it was worth five points. That was brilliant. Complete unnecessary randomness, it's what's for dinner.

Word to the Wise

Stay drunk throughout February. Nothing in this God forsaken month is worth being sober for, except maybe Groundhog Day. February 3rd to the 28 are the most miserable days of year aside from April 15, Christmas, and Valentines Day, which happens to be in murky depths of February's darkest hours. Holy crap that's today. Hm.

Anyway, that said, it is still not OK to do meth...even on Valentines Day. Please, if not for your own sake, for your mother's sake, for all our sake's do not ever do meth. EVEN IN FEBRUARY. Have some other kind of fun. If you are really bored, Here are some things to do as an alternative to meth.

• Have a few beers and drive down a rural country road with a shotgun blowing the hell out of road signs.
• Streak a church service. If it is Saturday night, hit a synagogue.
  
• Break into a public outdoor pool with a 5 gallon jug of gasoline. Call 911 and report an oil spill at the pool address. Wait 5 minutes, pour it in, and set it aflame. (Use a bottle rocket to ignite from a safe distance.)
  
• Eat bud brownies. Lots of them.
  
• Rob a liquor store. Use the cash to buy a hot air balloon. Sail into the unknown as far as you can.
• Grab some paint ball guns, find a friend with a boat, and hijack a cruise ship. Assemble the passengers and crew on the main deck, smash a bottle of Jack Daniels in front of them and christen it "The Bluto Boat." Pass out shot glasses and protective goggles. Fill glasses with booze. When someone refuses to drink, pelt them with a spattering barrage until they do.
• Go to White Castle.
• Dress up in suits and go to the fanciest restaurant in town. When they refuse to seat you, ask for the maitre d', have your buddies pin him to the largest, most crowded table, drop trow, and lay a Cleveland steamer on his penguin chest.
• Bring an elastic water balloon launcher to the opera. Sit in the balcony. Aim for the vocalists (not the pit).
  
• If you get arrested for any of the above, and are tempted to do meth before your court date, appear in a giant Big Bird suit instead.

The moral is...do not ever, under any circumstances, even while risking life and limb, even think about trying meth. Not in a boat, not in a moat, not ever, ever, ever. If you decide there is a chance you might try meth, please seriously consider doing any of the above as an alternative. If any of these prevent you from doing meth, it will have been well worth it and yes, less risky.

I will now step down from my soap box and continue loathing this depraved, brutal month.

Militant Atheism

Interesting stuff

I do recognize that one risks an immediate loss of credibility by defending any attribute of religion. If this is you, I suggest you turn your head or bury it in the sand if possible.

Here's my Lutheran upbringing coming through... I really don't get the conflict between intelligent design and science. If something can be proven to exist through science, isn't that part of God's creation? (Forgive my use of "God" - it's not accurate given today's general definition, but necessary to demonstrate my point). If we were created in God's image, with a capable intellect, isn't it our responsibility to use our brains to interpret ancient text appropriately with consideration for what we know of the properties of our universe? Doesn't science give us a more accurate picture of age old truths and allow us to re-consider those that have been perhaps interpreted incorrectly? Seems pretty easy to resolve the contradictions - always in the favor of both scripture and science, and never at the expense of either.

Of course, this is really all about the bible thumpers who insist the earth was created 6000 years ago. I propose it is this stubborn approach to scripture, and not science, that is most effectively destroying religion.

Through refusing to remove their heads from their asses, such individuals are discrediting the legitimate religious institutions and belief systems that fully recognize and encourage all scientific understanding. Who are we to judge whether the big bang was part of God's design? All we know is...it happened, and those people who have staked their lives and reputations on the conviction that it didn't are preserving their own necks at the expense of not only their own credibility, but the credibility of associated spiritual institutions; nowadays all religion.

In other words, there can be no contradiction, only a fuller understanding of both as they are necessarily dependent on one another regardless of career-saving rhetoric.

Now, to turn the coin. With all due respect for the brilliant Mr. Dawkins, I insist there are several practical and logical reasons to resist an all out assault on religion.

As tempting as it sounds given the militant droves of "God doesn't want me to think," "I've never picked up a Bible and read it" church goers, "attacking religion as a whole" requires attacking the basic philosophical understanding integral to western civilized society. So, if religion is absolutely dependent on science/facts, how is science dependent on religion? As odd as it sounds today, civilized conditions permitted through the advance of religion have been critical to the advance of science.

Take the principles of individual liberty for example (Adam Smith, Lord Acton, Thomas Jefferson). It only requires the fact that individual liberty was accepted by the extremely Christian colonies in 1789 to demonstrate the compatibility of the two. But, more to the point, there would be no civil liberty if there were no Christ or Christianity - not because the ideas didn't exist among the literate - but because the majority of people would never have understood them properly otherwise (ironically, a situation similar to today, and the cause of our problems).

I expect most of the scientists at the TED conference are fluent in the rational justification for civilized behavior - or submit to living that way simply to accomplish their goals. Either way, such individuals will themselves benefit less from religion. What is important is that Christian scripture demonstrates very complex ideas in a way accessible to people without twelve degrees. It is a powerful force for civilization that anyone with life experience can identify with the value of graceful interpersonal behavior so eloquently stated in a book several thousand years old that appeals not only to reason, but also to human emotion.

But, just like a scientific thesis, no one can comprehend the value of a text they have never read. And today, I propose the rampant misunderstanding of Christianity is dangerous to science, and therefore civilization. On the other hand, I wonder how easily most atheists have dismissed Christianity based on its unsavory public appearance rather than its philosophies. I would subscribe to a militant educational approach to restore the proper understanding of Christianity, and refute its internal enemies, but it would involve massive upheavals of ideas now ingrained in thumper thought. I consider myself a Christian, but not the type you're familiar with, and would be intimidated by the thought of dealing with the completely unreasonable (more so than dealing with most Atheists).

Most crucially, I don't believe one ought to assume any sort of higher power without considering the justification and reviewing the materials carefully. Christians should know this. Assuming that one can coerce rather than persuade another to adopt the same conclusions is itself contradictory to Christian principles.

At any rate, a discussion about religion is so mired in false perceptions and assumptions on both sides any point is diluted by its mention. Sad.

Regret

Mistakes are unfortunate things. They come in all shapes, sizes, and orientations. Their cause can be almost anything; misunderstanding, anger, despair, stupidity, pride, love, hate, inexperience, unpreparedness, laziness, zealousness, self-consciousness, over-confidence, self-loathing, greed, delusion, small-mindedness, big-thinking, medium-thinking, thinking out of context, being reasonable, being unreasonable, not paying attention, paying too much attention, talking, not talking, blogging, not blogging, being alive, being dead, riding the elephant, not riding the elephant, curling, inclusion, omission, breathing, and, yes, intoxication.

With so many possible causes, it seems like mistakes would be impossible to avoid. But, that is not an excuse to accept them or trivialize them, but a reason to be all the more cautious of them.

Here's a breakdown as I understand it:

• A mistake is a failure of intention, regardless of the consequence. Hindsight does nothing to change one's intentions, only the desirability of the consequence. If the desired consequence is itself a mistake, many non-mistakes might have been accomplished in its achievement. Alternatively, many mistakes can still result in a desirable consequence.
  
• Mistakes are either despite one's character or evidence of one's character. Either way they are to be ashamed of. But, however erroneous in appearance, the individual responsible for perpetuating a mistake is the only one capable of positively identifying it (as they are the only one's fully cognoscente of their own intentions).
  
• Because of the previous rule, there are two possible outcomes for every mistake: 1) The perpetrator acknowledges the mistake - often required (and if reasonable, adjusts future behavior accordingly), or 2) The perpetrator subsequently adjusts their intentions to align with the mistake, resolving it completely - at this point it may be a veiled mistake known only to the perpetrator - whether the consequence is something negative, neutral, brilliant, whatever.
  

If we were only so fortunate to know the nature and consequences of our actions in real-time. Like if only last night when I said something inappropriate to Penny, a huge paw could drop down from the sky (or bar ceiling) and smash me across the face. Or, if only Penny would have used her powerful jaws to inflict a swift nurple I would have been immediately cognoscente of the mistake and adjusted accordingly with perhaps a leaf of catnip.

Now I question whether it was evidence of my character or despite it. I have my own interpretation, but I acknowledge the reasonable possibility that Penny might think differently. More to the point, my closest feline companion might falsely assume I have satisfied some intention - implying that my very character is at fault rather than my judgment (or lack thereof). Such an indictment, even by a poofy-tailed mongrel, fails to recognize the important latter possibility thereby perpetuating a longer series of unnecessary negative consequences for me while satisfying her fluffy desire to degrade my happiness to a level proportional to hers (pending some degree of understanding and forgiveness). But Penny knows that acknowledgment or satisfaction of these negative appeals to mutual despair can only be destructive to both parties involved, especially considering that requirement asks me to confirm that my character is fundamentally flawed and is undeserving of forgiveness. Penny knows that I would have no problem with this if the behavior was indeed a result of my (otherwise infinitely flawed) character, but since I do not believe it is in this particular case, lying to myself and others for the sake of peace is a solution more incorrect than the original crime.

I believe that treating others as you wish to be treated also applies to intra-species relationships. We can always learn from our mistakes, and fortunately I have made many billions of them. Forgive and forget, but never sacrifice dignity for something as superficial as comfort. In cases of obvious poor judgment, justice requires permission to swiftly smack the rat bastard in the face if he deserves it. You're doing him a favor...really.

Halisaurs: Are they Magical?

The legend states that halisaurs are basically immortal. At least no dwarf has ever seen one dead. They can be captured, imprisoned, or tethered, but they are virtually impervious to physical injury, a trait loathed by the Drabens, who find them perpetually unruly.

They are incapable of inflicting harm on other halisaurs or dwarves themselves. In fact, very few cases of exceptionally bad luck have ever been reported so long as the halisaur is accompanied by its dwarf. Distancing one's self from their halisaur or otherwise compelling them to congregate are really the only factors that contribute to any harm associated with them. Furthermore, it is specifically the incidental misfortune associated with the conditions of abandoned halisaurs, and not the halisaurs or dwarves themselves, that is said to cause the undefinable mystical curse. Still, some dwarves choose to take that risk and sell them for profit. The halisaur has no choice in the matter.

Perhaps it is the mysterious and unpredictable behavior of the halisaur that compels many dwarves to discount their magical properties and dismiss their importance. After all, such things would be very difficult to prove to a dwarf who hasn't experienced the evidence first-hand.

Dwarvia - Sari and the Rogue Halisaur

Sometime after the Drabens occupied most halisaurs but before the darkness.

Sari was a young dwarf who lived on the outskirts of town with her three younger sisters, Sali, Sadi, and Sami; triplets only two years old. The four of them and their four halisaurs lived rather happily in their small dirt hut. The three small halisaurs would sleep most of the time as Sari's great uncle Fred, who was pushing 150, would help take care of the toddlers. During the day Sari worked the fields, and each day there was just enough cereal to go with their milk.

Then one day as Sari rested in one of her fields she noticed some rustling among the stalks of wheat. She stood to watch as the agitated kernels approach from the distance. Was it a rabbit, snake, dunder dog? Whatever it was it seemed to be headed directly towards her. She grasped her hoe ready to defend herself as it drew near. Then, a tiny creature jumped out of the wall of stalks and onto the grass in front of her. It was a tiny halisaur.

She had never seen one so small. It scurried over to Sari's halisaur, who was always by her side, and jumped on its back. So, there they were. Sari's full grown reptilian companion with the minuscule creature on its back. And there it stayed the rest of the day as Sari worked the field. This was rather unexpected.

That evening she walked into the tiny hut and sat in her chair adjacent to Fred's. They both looked at Sari's halisaurs, the tiny one clung inseparably to the larger one, who sat on the floor casually and obliviously in front of them. Fred lit his pipe and reclined. They both knew the tiny halisaur would not be able to live with them. As much as she desired to keep it the consequences would be disastrous. No tiny halisaur arrived without the inevitable consequences, and in this case there simply weren't resources to accommodate them. She knew it was her decision alone. She knew she must resolve this.

Of course, in all the rest of Dwarvia a rogue halisaur was an unheard of fortune. Seldom if ever did one arrive without the availability of a larger one. The small ones are apparently drawn to the bright green anterior scales common to the halisaurs who happen to be owned by female dwarves. Anyway, this thought made her decision very, very difficult, as a luck dragon of any size is a precious commodity and not to be dismissed lightly.

Sari knew that sometimes rogue halisaurs would simply vanish, wanted or not. Well, not really vanish, but go away nonetheless. Well, not really just go away either. A peculiar and well-known trait of the halisaur is its capacity to cannibalize smaller ones. Yes, in a flash they will suddenly turn their heads, snap at the poor critter, swallow them whole, lick their chops, and continue with their daily business. No one knows why this is, but sometimes it happens, and without apparent reason.

In any case, all halisaurs are identical with one exception. Each has a special reflex that can only be triggered by the halisaur's owner, and only if she is female. If, for whatever reason, a rogue halisaur appears, its owner can find the pressure point beneath the tail to trigger this reflex. The halisaur will immediately turn its head and devour the little one, swallowing it whole. No one knows why this reflex exists, but since it does, Dunder Village has no choice but to allow its female dwarves to use it as they see fit. Of course, the village depends on the restraint of this practice, as there can be no new dwarves without new halisaurs, but that has never been an issue - and nothing could be done about it anyway short of complete authoritarian control of all female dwarves.

Of course, there are no halisaurs in Dwarvia outside Dunder Village, so this technique is not available generally. The Draben ranch always encourages their arrival and requires maturation of rogue halisaurs for their valuable milk regardless of the circumstances. But, since the owner of each halisaur at the Draben ranch isn't even on the same continent, the reflex method isn't an option anyway. So, the Drabens are thankful for the vast separation of the two entities.

Incidentally, when a dwarf is killed, its corresponding halisaur also perishes, so it is always in the best interest of the Drabens to encourage at least the bare survival of every halisaour's corresponding dwarf. But unfortunate is the dwarf who has neither met his own halisaur nor even had the option to voluntarily sell it. Certainly such a terrifying condition is unheard of in Dundar Village. However, in greater Dwarvia, this is standard as parents usually sell any halisaur as soon as it arrives. The Draben's pay twice as much for the tiny rogue halisaurs who haven't met their dwarf - they tend to cause less trouble among the giant herds.

So anyway, when she had garnered enough will, Sari approached her halisaur, found the pressure point, and the critter was instantly devoured. Fred, Sari, and the triplets ate their meager dinner in somber silence. Such was the nature of her hut in Dunder Village those days.

Flop Flip

In any war, the first casualty is common sense, and the second is free and open discussion. -James Reston

Perhaps common sense first depends on contempt for the influences that attempt to silence it. More specifically, virtually all earthly experiences. But once we identify the things that drive people into canyons of self-reciprocating dedication to error we can at least attempt to avoid them ourselves. It pretty much goes without saying that folks regularly make up for ignorance with ego, pride, flamboyance, consistency, or some cocktail thereof. Then, we perpetuate such barriers to thought by calling someone who changes their mind a "flip-flopper." As if one's worth is permanently tied to their dedication to the incorrect until their death. On the other hand, we associate the acceptability of our own thoughts to their popular appeal rather than their integrity. We do this to protect our pride and ego because we know that essentially we are ignorant - perhaps not of the principles of an issue, but certainly the minutia. Or, maybe we are familiar with the minutia and ignorant of the principles. They are interdependent, and one is meaningless without the other, but everyone leans one way or the other.

On a political level, it is always easier to be perceived as intelligent and viable if you are familiar with the properties of the minutia - it fosters the assumption that you identify with one or even several different or even contrasting principles. More importantly, the details that are popular and simple to understand can be cherry picked to appease the largest constituency even if the actual effect is contrary to the detail's associated principle(s). Alternatively, a candidate dependent on principle is restricted to the details that fall in line precisely with those principles without any contradiction. With an electorate interested in viability over principal, the most accurate candidate who chooses the most popular facts and presents them in the most attractive way will win. With an electorate interested in principal over viability, the most viable/minutia-oriented candidate will still win because the electorate underestimates each other's ability to identify the subtle contradictions. So, yes, we are all guilty. Might as well just admit it. Words will move around ideas by the very nature of the beast. We are just as much flip-floppers for maintaining our association to one migrating group or another as we are to changing our own positions.

The bottom line is...when a system becomes too complicated for anyone with the standard measure of common sense to adequately align principle to the matrix of interdependent contingencies (clusterfuck), we are left with the potential for mass-abuse of those sound principles. It's low hanging fruit for the least savory of people, and anyone who recognizes this should be tempted to join them. Who among us will stop grinding puppies alive and feeding them to the animal rights activists? And who will be so bold as to take the precious meat grinder away?

Hello (hello, hello) is there anybody in there

I have often questioned the seemingly short-sighted, altruistic, and naive attitude of my liberal tree-hugging friends; often strict Democrats or even all out socialists. They sometimes have simplistic conclusions, and an inability to identify the manipulative demagogues who swindle their votes with ruthless deception. Yes Shawn (other Shawn), they do ask you to help save the puppies, slaughter them, and secretly feed them to you. And yes, you think the puppies are tasty. And yes, you continue to vote for more slaughtered puppies. I know you're not a willing participant in the carnage...you just overestimate the candidates and elected officials. But you are open minded in values and spirit, even if the real meat isn't getting through.

I have seen there is something much worse than the above. Ever walk back into your elementary school in amazement..like everything is a miniature model of what you remember? That is how I felt tonight - like looking at the giant bubble in which I have always lived. I had always assumed the bubble was much larger than it is. I maybe never realized the degree someone can depend on tradition, consistency, and public opinion rather than thought. As if the word "conservative" or "Republican" is the constant, its ideas are permanently sound, and one can bury his head in the sand and permanently trust those words and all that is associated with them with little subsequent concern for thought or reason. As if the Democrats are evil and must be beaten no matter what, regardless of the candidate, the method. That all they need to do is find the one most "popular" and promote him regardless of record, ideas, or mental stability. And that it is appropriate to apply means contrary to your principles in order to perpetuate them. As a newly discovered independent I had the opportunity to observe something once familiar from the outside and now realize with greater precision the difficulty of the true battle that must be fought.

Although it is not true that all conservatives are stupid people, it is true that most stupid people are conservative. -John Stuart Mill

I think John may be right, but I think his particular environment shielded him from many ugly realities of life. He was home schooled and had hardly any experience with the exclusive and brutal nature of the popularity contest. Being correct is very often a disadvantage to free thought, especially in an environment of insecurity, fear, and unfamiliarity (elementary school). In many of these these cases, being nonthreatening and blindly cooperative is advantageous. And then when a group develops you have the choice to join them or be mocked by them. This persists pretty much throughout life. It is a strong incentive to keep your mouth shut - behavior practiced by plenty of individuals who are far from stupid.

I guess that is why I decided to ditch the Republican Party and the Libertarian Party and become an Independent. If I believe such organizations are perpetuating the type of behavior that violates the thought incentive, I am part of the problem by identifying with them. Should such superficial tags continue to be depended upon after their core principles have changed or become a retrograde of their origins? Is it possible that when this happens people don't notice because they have come to trust and become very attached to their particular group? Is it possible some didn't really understand the principles in the first place...benefited from the party's platform regardless of the principles? Had to choose between supporting a self-benefiting part of the platform while violating one of its principles?

Two scenarios - pick only 1

Scenario #1: Human nature tends toward the barbaric and destructive.

If this is the case, are those in government immune to these tendencies? I would think on the contrary...if this is the case the success of anyone would be dependent on crushing others for personal advancement using deception, manipulation, and any effective tactic. If this is the case, those who have risen to the top of the political ladder have been most effective, the most manipulative and deceptive of all. Furthermore, they are congregated together to collaborate with similar characters - a seething pool of power-hungry would-be rulers if not for pesky laws and checks and balances. If this is the case, is it not our responsibility to hold them accountable to the rule of law? Should such a group be allowed to start wars or to act according to their own unsavory personal interests at the expense of others? If this is the case, it seems to me humanity must be restrained from the tendency to consolidate power into the hands of the few - the power must be distributed as evenly as possible to withhold the destructive beast in all of us.

Scenario #2: Human nature tends toward the civilized and constructive.

If this is the case, the success of individuals depends on their ability to cooperate through voluntary contract in a mutually beneficial way. If this is the case, even the most brainwashed terrorist is in some way cognizant of the ingredients necessary for civilization - loyalty, virtue, love, honor, compassion. If this is the case, humanity doesn't need a powerful group of even the most bright and high-minded people to govern us...we simply need them to get out of the way so we can continue our virtuous work. They are only required to legitimize contracts, and keep us safe enough to mind our own business. If this is the case, all we need is the ability to exercise our rights to engage in mutually beneficial behavior to the greatest degree possible.

Unifying principle.

In the worst case, a powerful government seizes control of our liberty for its own destructive self preservation. In the best case, it is hardly necessary at all.

It is impossible to tag any political party to either of these as both are represented in virtually any organization. People's intentions are irrelevant and so is their zealousness so much as:

• The power they are given comes from others. And:
  
• None has authority to prevent another from engaging in legal self-beneficial behavior.
  

To whatever degree either of these tendencies exist in our society, the tendency to limit government to its smallest practical size is beneficial to any degree of both.

Conclusion

If we believe the second scenario happens to be true, as civilized individuals we are required to act accordingly, depending on the intellect of others to identify our ideals, validate them by evaluating our behavior compared to them, and emulate them accordingly. The minority of ruthless barbarians will drift away, becoming increasingly unpopular. This scenario requires more bravery than the former. But we should recognize that if the first is true we are doomed already.

Last Call

I admit that I participated in a frenzy of self-indulgent behavior tonight - visiting Northrop Auditorium to listen to the Honorable Dr. Ron Paul. He said a few things differently, but most of all, he was very engaging and exiting to watch live. For some things he is talking way over a lot of people's heads, including mine at times, but he dumbs it down as much as he can. He's still asking more of his listeners' brains than any other candidate (no wonder he's less popular). To folks with their parachute closed he sounds disjunct and all over the map, but he knows he won't be able to reach those people anyway - among them are the folks who don't make up their minds until they're catching up with the herd.

Try explaining your job to someone in a few minutes. Now, pretend your job is 10 times more complicated and your audience doesn't really want to listen. I suggest people investigate Ron Paul's message thoroughly before discounting it. I'm getting tired of hearing things like he's "funding his campaign with corporate donations" and "he only appeals to the over 80 crowd" oh, and "he's a nut case." It's like trying to argue with someone who believes water isn't wet. When the satirists are coming up with stuff like this, believe me, you risk looking like a tard if you outright dismiss him for superficial reasons. His stuff is steeped in philosophy. Consider Ron Paul's stance on a foreign policy of non-intervention and then chew on this.

Men regard it as their right to return evil for evil - and if they cannot, feel they have lost their liberty. -Aristotle

Any society that would give up a little liberty to gain a little security will deserve neither and lose both. -Benjamin Franklin

Liberty without learning is always in peril and learning without liberty is always in vain. -John F. Kennedy

Okay, so that last one is a bit more general, but we need to learn why they hate us or we can't solve the problem. They hate us because we are there, and we know it. It's in the 911 report and spoken from Bin Laden's own lips (terrorist does not = liar). I suspect RP wants you to research his positions/underpinnings more than any other candidate wants you to investigate theirs. I think I've mentioned this quote before, but it's appropriate here:

You can fool some of the people all the time, and those are the ones you want to concentrate on. -George W. Bush

Does a candidate who is a fool have a chance if he concentrates on anyone else? If so, is the opposite true. Does the most intelligent candidate concentrate his/her efforts on the ones who are seldom fooled? I think so (even though there is little incentive for doing so these days - which is why politics is full of unseemly frantic fark wits). If politics is all about smoke and mirrors the guy who reveals the tricks does seem crazy at first. But, everyone really wants to know, and when they find out (whenever that is) the people will throw their collective flag. This is all about brush fires - right now we've got a torch and a large field of dry weeds.

So, on the eve of Super Tuesday I will make an official appeal to join me in caucusing for Ron Paul. I pledge any honor I have on the principles he represents despite the few unsavory dunderheads who have associated themselves with him. Here's my case:

Long before there was a United States, there was the natural human right to life, liberty, and the will to follow our dreams as we see fit so long as they do not harm others. Then, governments were instituted to protect those rights - governments who's powers were derived by the consent of the governed. Now, we stand on the precipice of an economic collapse due to well-intentioned but destructive policies of a central bank. Our homes can be searched without warrant, and even the act of reporting the incident is a federal crime. Habeas Corpus has been suspended, and as of May 1st we will need to carry a National ID card to travel by plane or enter a federal building. Our government has indeed become destructive towards the very things it was instituted to protect. I did not consent to such actions, and I suspect many of you did not either.

If the principles of individual liberty are responsible for our greatness, I ask how can we expect to persevere as a great society when we disobey these principles? Once we have lost respect for the rule of law contained in our Constitution, what precise traditions are we deciding to choose instead? And, what are the consequences? How do they hold up to historical scrutiny? Most importantly, how can we justify spreading these ideals when we cannot stand as an example ourselves? What message are we sending the citizens of the world when we suspend the foundations of the very system we are encouraging? Our strength is in our principles, and their universal appeal to all civilized individuals.

Do the terrorists hate us because we are rich and free? How can we make such a claim? Would we be capable of murder suicide if another country were richer and freer than us? It's as ridiculous as assuming we can forcefully prevent a suicidal barbarian from harming others. Our principles require us to fight with weapons of the mind and appeal to the best in people. The terrorists appeal to the worst. We depend on individuals taking responsibility for themselves, and our power of influence is only as great as our power to lead by example.

I urge you to consider the consequences of continuing the interventionist foreign policy; the consequences of perpetuating the destructive policies of our monetary system; a nation that requires an ID card; a nation that starts wars. It is not our generation, but the generations of our children and grandchildren that will bear the burden of these policies. They were perhaps not started by us, but here, in 2008, we have one moment when we can make a genuine difference. Let us not say no one tried to reverse the trend of poor policy when we were handed the opportunity.

Pro Choice

Malinda walked into the poll booth and cast her ballot. She voted as she always did - along party lines - all Democrat. Malinda was not only pro choice, the right to choose was really the only political issue that mattered to her. She didn't have much time to research the other candidates anyway. She had a very busy life.

She walked out of the community center, got in her 1983 Ford Escort, and drove to the Krow Bar where she worked as a waiter. She had worked the same job for five years and was a pro. The regulars all tipped her well, and even came to the Krow Bar instead of a neighboring restaurant because she was there. At the end of her shift she pulled off some of her tips to share with her busser, then drove to the grocery store.

Every week it was the same, Barney the cashier had assembled her bag for her already. It was always the same stuff too - ramen, flour, sugar, diapers, baby food...all generic. This week she pulled two packages of ramen noodles out of the bag and placed them on the counter. She counted out the exact change, a little less than usual, and handed it to Barney.

She stopped at the gas station and filled her car with 4.7 gallons. Then it was over to Fran's house to pick up the kids. Jack and Jan ran out to the car and jumped into the back seat as Malinda pulled off a couple twenties from her roll of cash.

The next morning she drove the kids to school on her way back to the Krow Bar. Malinda enrolled them in the public school across town rather than the one a block away. The drive was in the same direction as the Krow Bar, and after school the kids would be able to walk to Fran's house. It was a routine that worked well.

One cold February day she asked if she could leave early. It was a slow afternoon, so the bar owner said it was alright. Malinda picked up a folder full of papers and walked across the street to the library. She approached the front desk, talked to the librarian, and then sat down at one of the computers that sat in a long row against the back wall. After a few minutes she opened her folder and began entering the information into the fields on her screen. Mortgage interest, expenses, dependents, wages, tips. She noticed she was being taxed on her income from tips, and consequently her return was going to be smaller than she expected. It didn't seem that the government had a right to take extra money she had been given for her good service. She completed the forms, sent them to the Internal Revenue Service, walked out of the library, and drove to Fran's house.

That night she opened a package of ramen noodles, broke it in half, and put it in the bowl of water and placed it in the microwave. She could have chosen to eat the whole thing like she usually did, but tonight she chose not to.

ramen