A Case Study in Music and Memory

"There are things you can't avoid; You have to face them, when you're not prepared to face them."
-- "Fight Test", by The Flaming Lips

I hear over and over that, of the five senses, smell is most closely linked to memory. I'm sure this is generally true, and there's no doubt I experience this phenomenon often. (For instance, oddly, the scent of a spring dawn always elicits images of Hudson Elementary School from my days as a 2nd grader. I don't know why, but it does.)

You may have noticed I have a strong affinity for music, and I think this influences the fact that sound -- and music, in particular -- randomly forges permanent bonds to certain memories. Some good, some neutral, some not-so-great. An interesting psychological phenomenon, for sure.

Whenever I hear "Glide" by Stone Temple Pilots, I'm immediately transported to nights during fall 2002, when I would drive home from my job as a Tony Roma's busboy at one in the morning in my '89 Jeep Comanche, windows cracked.

Whenever I hear "Merry Christmas From the Family" by Robert Earl Keen, I'm brought to a December concert back in '06, when I was sipping Coronas and hanging with old high school friends at a roadhouse in Tyler, Texas.

Whenever I hear "What Is Love" by Haddaway...

OK, so I'm kidding on that last one, but you get my point.

I don't really love the above songs, but they nevertheless became permanently associated with my past experiences. This is the way it's always worked for me, but recently, the stars aligned in an odd way.

In the last handful of years, my musical tastes have broadened considerably to encompass indie rock (Whatever "indie" is. Tangent: "Is Indie Dead?", a very interesting article by Paste magazine). The Flaming Lips is considered by some to pioneer this genre. A little less than a year ago, I decided I needed to see what all the fuss was about, and I bought their highly acclaimed '02 release, Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots. Then I saw them live.

I was impressed. Very impressed. Yoshimi remained stuck in my car's CD player for several days straight. But interestingly, over time, the album became associated with an experience I didn't like to dwell on. It wasn't a BAD experience per se (the opposite, actually), but it was something from which I needed to move forward. Listening to that album, however, would inevitably conjure images from that period of my life to rush back into my head.

So I avoided it. To hell with my love of the musical qualities of Yoshimi; I just needed to ignore it for a while, letting that memory play out its course and exit my mind, stage left. But months went by, and I remained shy to glance at the CD cover art, much less play it.

Then one day I decided I needed to change things. It may have made sense at the time to avoid the album, but so many months removed, it started to feel silly to go to such lengths. So I put it in my work computer and listened from track 1 to 11, start to finish.

And you know, it was an oddly gratifying experience. The first track spoke directly to me (see the start of the entry), understanding that I felt like I wasn't mentally prepared to clear this psychological hurdle, but reassuring me that I actually was. Afterwards, I got to thinking: Why did I think this would be difficult? And how much did avoiding the album reinforce my overcautiousness?

I'll probably never shake the mental association I have with The Flaming Lips, just like I never will dissociate "Glide" from Tony Roma's. But at least now, as my emotional attachment with it diminishes, I can appreciate Yoshimi for what it is.

A damn good CD.

Delusions of Ungrandeur

WARNING: this entry's Mindless Rambling Index is dangerously high. Proceed with caution.

Ever had an idea, a thought, a philosophy that you wish you could follow and remember each and every day, but that inevitably loses your mind's grip on a regular basis? As hard as we try to keep apathy and a sense of "coasting" through life from creeping into our streams of consciousness, these tend to return on a somewhat regular basis, and it takes something significant to wake us from that stupor.

I had one of those wake-up calls recently.

On Thanksgiving morning, I was busy at a gas station, filling up my car, withstanding the newfound chill in the air. A woman that may or may not have been homeless passed me on a nearby sidewalk, and sunnily said, "Now THAT is one cute car!" As an owner of a Mini Cooper, I'm accustomed to hearing this -- and to the hint of emasculation that comes with it...the word "cute" often does that to a man when referring to one of his possessions. I smiled and thanked her, and she continued, "You have a wonderful Thanksgiving; I know I will!"

I'm not sure what it was. Maybe it was the genuine excitement with which she said it. Her attitude was somewhat unexpected, given her ragged appearance. But her words set off alarms in my head: I'm coasting through life.

Don't get me wrong, it's not like I wasn't looking forward to Thanksgiving with the folks. I really was, but I also was preoccupied with how difficult this, that, or the other will be to overcome tomorrow, next week, next year. Or other times, I was consumed with disappointments past. It wasn't intentional, but the attention I was giving to yesterday AND tomorrow sort of represented a de facto lack of value I was placing on today. The awareness that something really significant was about to happen RIGHT NOW -- Thanksgiving with the folks -- was missing. This lack of focus also implies an illusion that life is just so ordinary: delusions of ungrandeur.

Not to go all self-indulgent on you, but I've been guilty of this a handful of times recently, I think. I'm reminded of a phrase "struggled to see past my nose", from Tom Petty's song, "Square One". If you retreat into this self-imposed shell, it's easy to get so wrapped up in life's challenges that the truly great things in life pass you by, like cars going the other way on the interstate.

I recently watched a movie called "The Dish" -- an adaptation of a true story about the Australian radio telescope that received radio and TV signals from the Apollo 11 moon landing in 1969. One of those uber-charming movies that your outer self will say is cheesy, but that your soul appreciates. The telescope's crew overcomes a series of challenges (accompanied by dry Aussie wit) and ultimately accomplishes its mission. But one character caught my attention.

Cliff Buxton (played by Sam Neill) is the head of the telescope's crew. You get the feeling he used to be a real hard-ass, running the operation with an iron grip, but has obviously loosened up in recent days. As it turns out, his wife had died a year before. It's not clear how, but she had been instrumental in the dish's missions, with more enthusiasm and less gravity than her husband. In one scene, this all comes to light, as Cliff confides to another member of the team:

"She was so excited by all this. It made me realize that I should be excited, too. And I am."

A simple line, but it tells a lot. In months leading up to the mission, Cliff apparently was preoccupied, obsessed with running a tight ship, letting the "amazingness" of the mission (i.e., man about to walk on the friggin' moon) pass him by. Delusions of ungrandeur.

But when his wife passed away, her enthusiasm went with her. Maybe that set off the alarm in Cliff's head. While he continued to lead his underlings strongly, he did so with a more laid-back, appreciative attitude, fully embracing the excitement of his circumstances. And doing so, you could perhaps argue, empowered him to deal with the mission's challenges more capably.

Back to that woman at the gas station, though: it was definitely a wake-up call that I needed to hear. If I could just bottle the lesson she taught me, because I'm sure I'll slip into cruise control again, probably next week.

Coo Coo Ca-choo, Mrs. Robinson...

Ah, the subtle discrepancies between life in reality and life on the big screen...

I watched The Graduate recently, and found it fascinating on a number of levels. Quick background: a recent college grad, Benjamin Braddock (Dustin Hoffman), becomes entangled in a romantic affair with an older woman, Mrs. Robinson (Anne Bancroft). Hence the famous line, "Mrs. Robinson, you're trying to seduce me." Things get complicated, though, as Ben falls in love with Mrs. Robinson's daughter, Elaine (Katharine Ross). Ben becomes so hopelessly obsessed with Elaine that he pretty much goes to the end of the earth and back to win her heart.

First of all, the first third of the movie is absolutely hilarious. Ben embodies an intense awkwardness as he engages in the affair -- it's painfully obvious when meeting her at a hotel one night.

What I found more intriguing was the manner in which Ben chased down the lovely Elaine during the last third of the movie. Herein lies a conflict:

From a cynic's point of view, you'd have to think that, in reality, such extreme measures would at some point have resulted in a restraining order. But from a romantic's point of view, it's a gorgeous fairy tale that teenage girls dream will happen to them one day.

I randomly ran across someone's thoughts on obsession (an emotion which dominates Ben's motives) recently: "Obsession: a persistent, disturbing preoccupation with an often unreasonable idea or feeling; compelling motivation. I like the latter definition personally. I can be compelled, but at what point does persistence become disturbing? Also, don't most good ideas and feelings initially seem unreasonable? Honestly, by definition, if you're not obsessed, I just don't think you're trying... you lazy buggers."

An important detail I've left out until this point is that the feeling between Ben and Elaine was at one point mutual. In other words, it's NOT an unreasonable idea that Ben, given persistence, gets the girl. But if the girl (or guy) just has no interest whatsoever, it matters not how persistent the pursuer is, it just ain't gonna be successful. Here's where the cynic's point of view wins out: persistence isn't romantic; it's just plain creepy and disturbing.


Circling back...to me, the most ingenious part of The Graduate was that it doesn't really resolve this conflict in the final scene, unlike the usual marshmallowy romantic tale. Sure, Ben and Elaine run off together in the end (quite literally), but as the credits begin to roll, it's not 100% clear whether romanticism wins (Ben's obsession is rewarded and he gets the girl) or loses (reality sets in and it doesn't work out).

Which is actually painfully realistic.

Filling Holes

Self-discovery can come slowly. And sometimes, even if it feels like you’re close to a breakthrough, you can be miles away without realizing it. On the other hand, if it feels miles away, you could be knocking on the door.

I experienced an epiphany a few weeks ago. Out of nowhere, a pastor who I know quite well extended an invitation for me to become a youth counselor. The possibility intrigued me, but I hesitated for obvious reasons:

(1) Could I give such a position the time and attention it deserves? (2) Was I ready to bear the responsibility of being a powerful influence over a child or teen? (3) Would I be able to say the right things in any given situation? (4) I do the church thing occasionally but definitely have a long way to go. Did I have the spiritual knowledge, etc., to qualify me for this gig?

All valid concerns, but the pastor gave me an entirely different reason to question myself. After addressing the above points, he cautioned, “If you want to do this in order to fill a hole in your life, then it’s likely that this isn’t right for you.”

Since hearing those words, I’ve pondered them frequently, trying to understand exactly what they meant. Immediately, they made sense in the context of my decision. Still meandering down the path of self-discovery and maturity, it was apparent that one of the reasons I was considering the counselorship was indeed to fill a hole in my life. As such, I would risk becoming overly dependent on the satisfaction I might get from the position (or maybe overly exasperated) to the point where it might adversely affect my ability to carry out my responsibilities. It was quickly obvious to me that I should pass.

Then, I began to generalize this idea. There are probably many serious undertakings in which a similar approach should be made: if you’re doing something simply to fill a void, then you should think twice about going through with it. Relationships come to mind. So do other forms of volunteering and, in certain contexts, career moves. In each of these situations, it’s healthier to develop a stronger foundation first, at which point you’re ready to tackle the implications of filling the “larger” holes.

However, using this philosophy as a universal reason to avoid trying new things in general is an overcautious way to live, to be sure. Besides, if you follow this too strictly, you end up in a catch-22 situation. How can you fill the holes in your life if you need to be “hole-less” before you are qualified to fill them? By that logic, you’re stuck in an unending cycle.

I think you can draw the line here: if an attempt to fill a hole by taking on a new challenge might significantly affect others’ lives, to the point where a sudden change or your overdependence on the presence of that challenge could negatively affect others around you, then you should think more carefully.

So here was my conclusion: say you’re meandering down that path of self-discovery, still working to fill certain holes in your life. First, aim to seal the smaller holes with individual tasks and responsibilities. Eventually, and naturally, you’ll be able to do things like a youth counselorship -- or any of those important things you could use to fill the “larger” holes.

At least now, I’m still early in my journey, and at times the road to self-discovery seems miles, counties, states away. But as far as I know, maybe it’s just around the bend. And while the holes may at times seem as gaping as that sinkhole in Guatemala City a few weeks ago, maybe they’re just a little more manageable.

On Paper

It’s a common expression in sports, but it reaches far beyond mere competition into the deepest crevices of life and philosophy.

"On paper", the New York Yankees should win the World Series every single year. "On paper", the undefeated New England Patriots should have steamrolled the New York Giants in Super Bowl XLIV. "On paper", my Dallas Mavericks, having won at least 50 games each and every season in the last decade, should have won at least ONE championship. (A pain I am way too familiar with.)

What exactly does that mean? An outcome of a given situation is predictable based on the logical assessment of “paper”, a symbolic representation of hard facts, statistics, and data.

Of course, we all know you can’t rely only on paper. There are intangibles involved with EVERYTHING. That’s why each of the three above assertions turns out to be false. I often quote ESPN personality Chris Berman: “THAT'S why they play the game.”

It’s difficult to describe what these “intangibles” are. Randomness. Chance. A “human” element (as in, “humans aren’t perfect”).

Unfortunately for left-brained creatures like me who give enormous weight to fact, reason, and rationality, life in general resembles sports in this respect. Just when you have something completely figured out, to the point where you’re absolutely CERTAIN of the outcome of a given situation, life throws you a curveball. On paper, THIS should happen. But in reality, THAT happens instead.

Example 1: If you saw the season six finale of "House" last week (spoiler alert!), you saw the usually invincible diagnostician do everything right to save the life of a woman whose leg had been crushed when a building collapsed. Yet, as the woman, her husband, and Dr. House hurry in an ambulance to the hospital, her pulse vanishes, and she dies. This turns out to be a culmination of emotion and frustration for Dr. House, much of which involves the remainder of the plot -- I won't get into that. The important part is that he "did everything right", and she still died. As a writer pointed out in an interview: "If you do the right thing in the world, good should come out of it. House is trying to learn that lesson, and it hadn’t worked out so well for him. And here, he does everything right, and she dies anyway." The woman should have lived. But she didn't.

Example 2: Two people meet and are in the midst of establishing a relationship. They share like interests, values, intellect, and personalities: everything that should result in a healthy relationship...on paper. And yet, time passes, and it doesn’t pan out, due to some intangible quality that’s missing on one side or the other. There's no explanation. What makes it so frustrating is not so much that you can't "fix" it, but you can't even begin to explain why it didn't work.

Example 3: On our last chase day during my storm chasing expedition, we patiently waited in western Oklahoma for a tornadic storm to develop. (Almost) every parameter was screaming that a developing storm was on its way to producing a tornado. And then, on the precipice of exploding into a monster, it fell apart in less than a half-hour. There was no reason for this to happen...or at least no reason that we simpleton meteorologists could comprehend.

It sure is frustrating: If X and Y are true when I encounter this situation, then I can expect that Z will most certainly happen. Sometimes, it feels like an invasion of our personal sense of control: if I have control over X and Y in order to make Z happen, and then Z didn't happen, did I really have control over X and Y to begin with?

Then, I realized that this principle hints at one of my most tightly held philosophies. There seem to be two competing forces in life. Logic and reason have important roles, and most of the time -- probably nearly all of the time, in fact -- they will lead you in the right direction and correctly “predict” what will happen. But logic and reason simply cannot explain everything, due to these “intangibles” that lead to unpredictable conclusions. There’s something else out there, something beyond our comprehension, that directly contradicts logic and reason. Or maybe it doesn't contradict logic and reason, but it's so far over our head we just can't understand it. Whatever it is, it sure makes life difficult for hopelessly left-brained people like me.

I’m not sure if any of that makes any sense. Maybe I should just leave philosophy behind and stick to storm chasing.

Realism vs Pessimism

A philosopher I know back home in northeast Texas, who lives amongst the trees at the end of a dirt road 5 miles from the nearest grain of asphalt or slab of concrete, imparted to me (through my dad) a nugget of wisdom which I often ponder but which I almost certainly will butcher:

If you keep your expectations lower than high, then (1) you won’t be disappointed when the best outcomes don’t happen and (2) you’ll be pleasantly surprised when they do.

I struggle with this idea sometimes. I like to consider myself a positive person for the most part, so it’s my tendency to expect good things to happen given the right effort. That's what being an optimist is all about, right? Well, there are times when negative outcomes, due to circumstances out of your control (or often times within your control), happen.

Letdown follows. Because you were expecting something better to happen. That sucks. But follow the above principle, and experiencing that fall off the emotional cliff may be less likely.

Careful application of this adage results in stability and even-headedness, and I would argue that it leads to a pretty healthy way to approach life. Contrary to my natural tendency, it’s actually not pessimistic to predict the worst and “brace yourself”. It’s being REALISTIC.

Notice I said “careful application”. It’s a delicate balance, and I think this approach can be taken too far. If you prepare for the worst to happen ALL the time, that’s approaching cynicism: a quality which neither I nor Conan O’Brien cherishes. Maybe if you rush to prepare for the worst case scenario, you subconsciously will steer the outcome towards the negative (even if not the worst case). This isn’t being realistic; it’s being PESSIMISTIC. And once the stink of pessimism invades your mind, it’s awfully tough to shake it off.

But back to being realistic for a moment. One cool corollary is that you can be realistic while remaining OPTIMISTIC on the whole. True, life doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to all the time. However, when it does happen to work out the way you think it’s supposed to, you appreciate it all the more, simply because you have the presence of mind to realize that something not-so-great COULD have happened, but didn’t. Maybe that positive realization reinforces a positive outlook on life.

Ramblings.

The Credo of Coco

From the mind that brought you (1) a priceless skeleton spraying a priceless work of art with caviar for no good reason, (2) outlandish predictions for the turn of the next millennium, and (3) a large grizzly bear brazenly, but rather enthusiastically, performing a shameful act (which we will leave nameless) in front of live studio audiences...


Unless you’ve been cryogenically frozen over the last three weeks, you have heard Conan’s Tonight Show has been forced off the air in favor of Jay Leno. Following several shows in which Conan expressed his bitterness against his bosses at NBC in various ways, he ended his run nine days ago rather graciously. (A $33 million settlement will do that.) But it wasn’t his gratitude to NBC that caught my attention.

Right before picking up his Les Paul and riding off into the late-night sunset by performing a rendition of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Freebird” -- complete with ZZ Top’s Billy Gibbons (with beard), good buddy Will Ferrell (with cowbell), Ben Harper, and of course, Max Weinberg -- Conan expressed this jewel of wisdom to his viewers that really hit home with me:

“All I ask is one thing, and I’m asking this particularly of young people that watch. Please do not be cynical. I hate cynicism. For the record, it’s my least favorite quality. It doesn’t lead anywhere. Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get, but if you work really hard, and you’re kind, amazing things will happen. I’m telling you, amazing things will happen. I’m telling you. It’s just true.”

He's right. I go through ups and downs like anyone, and it always seems like those downs correlate with cynicism. It’s tough to figure which is the cause and which is the effect (i.e., do my downs cause me to be cynical, or does being cynical cause my downs). But either way, striving to avoid excessive negativity is the way to live.

Conan’s right: that’s when amazing things happen.

Inverse

I’ve decided to break my nearly three-week silence. Aren’t you happy? Well, at least act like it...

As you may have surmised from previous posts (see Pegs and Holes and Pascal’s Triangle), I’ve got a thing for the mathematical sciences, and for letting my brain wander. And oh yeah, I’m one of those computer science majors, with a dash of linguist and philosopher thrown into the mix, too. An odd combination, to be sure, but this only means I’m fun to have beers with.

I got to thinking (that's trouble) about how one concept is applicable to all of these realms. Let's go one at a time:

Mathematics

Even if you haven’t studied it ad nauseum like I was forced to in college, you’re probably familiar with something called the inverse property, or an inverse function. You would agree that 5 + 1 = 6, and 6 – 1 = 5. It’s a simple example: adding a number is the opposite, or inverse, of subtracting it. One step further, if you take a number, do something to it (like add one), then do the opposite to it with the same value (like subtract one), you end up with what you started with.


This idea can be generalized to all sorts of stuff. Muliplication/division, square/square root, any combination of these, yada yada yada. It’s actually a pretty powerful concept once you start studying it closely, but this idea can be applied outside of the mathematical realm.

Linguistics

Suppose you’re translating a phrase from one language to another. For instance, how do you say “I am tired of reading this crap” in Italian? Assuming Google Translate is correct (I’ll get back to this later, by the way), that’s “sono stanco di leggere queste stronzate.”

Language translation ideally should satisfy the inverse property. If I translate the above Italian phrase back into English using the “inverse operation” (Sorry, I’m getting all math-y on you again.), then I should get my original phrase back. But this is not necessarily the case: languages are not as clear cut as logic and math. As any high school foreign language teacher would tell you, there’s more than one way to translate phrases into English, and vice-versa.

Software

But what if you do attempt to treat the translation of languages as an “inversable” operation? TranslationParty.com is a nice little web application that attempts to do just this. Using Google Translate to do the gruntwork, it will translate any phrase you wish into Japanese, and then back to English. Trouble is, you’ll likely end up with something different from what you started with. So for grins, it’ll translate it again into Japanese and back into English, and will keep doing this until it gets two of the same English phrases back-to-back and, as the website calls it, reaches equilibrium.

Example: shoving “The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog” into the translation machine will move back and forth through the language barrier until it reaches this equilibrium, eventually ending up with the English phrase, “The lazy dog jumps to a simple brown fox.” Totally butchered. (For the record, in Japanese, that’s "シンプルな茶色のキツネに怠惰な犬にジャンプします。").

(This write-up on TechCrunch.com has a slightly more hilarious example, but I just couldn’t bring myself to add a Star Wars reference to this article. I’m thinking it’s nerdy enough as it is.)

There's a disconnect here. The laws of logic (and software) don't mesh with the laws of language. If they did, these translations would be seamless and unambiguous. But there's an interpretive side that logic just can't grasp.

I just blew your mind.

The Wisdom of John Wooden

Every morning, while I eat my bowl of Wheaties, I watch "Mike and Mike in the Morning" on ESPN2 (simulcast on ESPN Radio). Normally, I've only been awake for about 30 minutes (75 if you count snooze time), so I'm pretty much staring blankly at the TV as they interview some relevant sports figure or talk about Mike Golic's weight. But on the occasion, I'll wake myself out of my early-morning stupor and actually pay close attention. Anytime Bill Walton appears, I'm sure to open my ears, because his controlled ramblings are simply priceless to listen to.

John Wooden, the greatest basketball coach ever (most would say), turned 99 today. Who better to converse with on the life and personality of Wooden than the legendary Bill Walton, who played for him at UCLA in the early 70's? (Entire interview available here -- at least for now.)

Walton had nothing but the highest praise for the man. One thing he said in particular really struck a chord with me: "He never spoke about basketball; he always talked about life."

To him, teaching basketball took a back seat to teaching about life, but as it turns out, when you learn about life, you're learning about basketball. It seems like this was Wooden's approach. You certainly can't argue with 10 national championships in 12 years, and it seems like his teachings could be applied long after his players cut down the nets.

Some nuggets of wisdom he has imparted:

"Be quick, but don't hurry."

"It's the things you learn after you know it all that count."

"Happiness begins when selfishness ends."

"Be at your best when your best is needed."

And Walton points out, it's so easy to say these things. But consider them for longer than five seconds, and actually think about how to put them into practice, especially when you're at life's extremes (the highest highs, or the lowest lows). It ain't easy. But it's worth it.

I am too young to appreciate what you've done, Mr. Wooden. But I'll do my best to learn someday. Happy 99, sir.

The Ethics of Hiroshima

It’s August 6. Sixty-four years ago today, the U.S. dropped the first of the only two nuclear weapons in the history of Earthly warfare. About 140,000 people in Hiroshima died by the end of 1945; some of them instantaneously, and some of them from radiation sickness, trauma, and burns. It’s hard to argue that the notion of such destruction is unspeakably horrific.

But was it the right thing to do?

First of all, let me make loud and clear that I can’t POSSIBLY fairly evaluate this question, since I wasn’t born until almost 40 years after the fact. I know nothing about what a World War feels like. But, I do find it interesting to think about and to hear others’ opinions on the subject.

Let’s start off with some facts. On July 26, 1945, Harry Truman (US President), Winston Churchill (UK Prime Minister), and Chiang Kai-shek (China President) issued the Potsdam Declaration, stating that either Japan surrenders immediately or face “prompt and utter destruction.” Eleven days later, the U.S. dropped an atomic bomb on Hiroshima. Three days after that, a second bomb was detonated over Nagasaki. Six days after that, Japan surrendered.

Probably the most frequent pro-bomb argument is that it actually saved lives. Either we continue to fight a stubborn Japanese empire that would’ve resulted in hundreds of thousands or millions of Japanese and American casualties as the war dragged on, or we end the war quickly. The atomic bomb demonstrated the power of the U.S. arsenal, and brought the war to a decidedly swift conclusion.

Then there are those that say destroying two cities and killing a huge number of civilians is barbaric, unnecessary, and wrong, no matter what. Some go so far as to characterize the tactic as a war crime.

Interestingly, this issue came up on The Daily Show a few months ago when torture and waterboarding was on everyone’s mind. During a spirited (and very interesting) argument with Cliff May, the President of the Foundation for Defense of Democracies, Jon Stewart said straight up that President Truman committed a crime of war (starting at about the 5:40 mark):

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Cliff May Extended Interview Pt. 2
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Spinal Tap Performance

(The other parts of the interview: Part 1, Part 3)

...To which, two days later, he realized what he said and made the following apology:

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Harry Truman Was Not a War Criminal
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Spinal Tap Performance

I did find Stewart’s suggestion interesting: why didn’t the U.S. just drop a bomb 15 miles offshore, thereby demonstrating the military might of the U.S. and the futility of Japanese resistance without killing a single civilian?

But a counter-argument: there's no guarantee that even that would've ended the war. Additionally, one comment on a blog I read said, “Doesn’t it follow from the logic of his argument that Nagasaki was permissible, since the Japanese hadn’t surrendered after Hiroshima? It’s a bit counter-intuitive that Hiroshima would be wrong, but Nagasaki not wrong.” Difficult to argue with that.

The debate continues. But there is one thing we can all agree on: two nuclear weapons have been detonated in an act of war. In these unsure times, let’s hope and pray and do whatever it takes so that number stays exactly where it is. I wasn’t alive during most of the Cold War, either, and can’t possibly comprehend the tension that was around in those days. I kinda like not knowing what that feels like.

Fire and Motion

I'm pretty sure there's no connection between software development and motivational speaking. But, crazier connections have been made.

I'm usually not one to pay attention to motivational speaking and the like. I do own a copy of the book Aspire Higher -- but only because it's signed by its author, former Dallas Mavericks coach Avery Johnson, whose I hand I got to shake. Maybe I've seen too many of those "demotivational" posters:


But something caught my eye recently, and I had one of those "wow, that's a universal truth" epiphanies.

Occasionally, I'll read Joel On Software, a blog that (surprise!) talks about software development. (Incidentally, if you're a software guy like me, you should read it.) I was flipping through his archives and found an interesting post that has some pretty significant philosophical implications. Odd because this was from a blog whose main focus tends to be on, you know, programming practices like his "Law of Leaky Abstractions" and the need to have thorough understandings of character sets. Read on:

"When I was an Israeli paratrooper a general stopped by to give us a little speech about strategy. In infantry battles, he told us, there is only one strategy: Fire and Motion. You move towards the enemy while firing your weapon. The firing forces him to keep his head down so he can't fire at you. (That's what the soldiers mean when they shout, 'Cover me.' It means, 'Fire at our enemy so he has to duck and can't fire at me while I run across this street, here'" It works.) The motion allows you to conquer territory and get closer to your enemy, where your shots are much more likely to hit their target. If you're not moving, the enemy gets to decide what happens, which is not a good thing. If you're not firing, the enemy will fire at you, pinning you down."

He then proceeds to talk about how this principle applies specifically to us software dorks. But before he does, he makes this point: "It took me fifteen years to realize that the principle of Fire and Motion is how you get things done in life. You have to move forward a little bit, every day. ... Watch out when your competition fires at you. Do they just want to force you to keep busy reacting to their volleys, so you can't move forward?"

Now we all have personal struggles; I know I do. But I think this strategy is a good way to manage those struggles. As long as you can keep those demons at bay by doing something everyday to counteract them, even if it seems minuscule at the moment, you end up making progress in the big scheme of things. Standing idly by will only allow those demons to advance on you, pushing you back each time.

I read that blog last week, and I'm still pondering it.

Adam Smith Was Wrong

I admit I know nothing at all about economic theory, so I'm not going to pretend I know why the Dow Jones is now lower than Kobe Bryant's assist-per-game average. Nor do I have any idea how exactly $780 billion dollars can be used to effectively bail out failed banks and mortgage firms. (And I gather I'm not alone.)

But I am very good at baseless speculation and philosophizing. (Fun!) I hear on the 24-hour news networks about how executives and CEOs haven't really been brought to justice. Instead, many of them are self-rewarded with "golden parachutes" consisting of exorbitant bonuses or pensions or whatever.

I do know that the purest form of capitalism is based upon everyone doing what's best for himself. Greed is good. But laissez-faire capitalism won't work in unideal conditions (like we humans like to create), just like communism only works in theory. All because humans are imperfect.

Which is why the best result, at least in our un-utopian civilization, comes when everyone does what's best for himself and for other people, in sort of an altruistic, we're-in-this-together attitude. I realize that not all big business are so greedy as to give themselves giant monetary pats-on-the-back each year; I'm not that cynical. But imagine if all big business promoted the well-being of everyone else, in addition to their own self-interests. Or at least by avoiding self-promotion at the expense of others.

OK, so I didn't come up with this all by myself. I was thinking about a particular scene from one of the top 10 movies ever, A Beautiful Mind. It explains these ideas in an interesting and easily grasped way:



I'm a dork.

Extinguishing the Flame

'Tis the season to be political. "Look." It's time for at least one more dip into politics, "my friends," because "gosh darn it," even if you "Joe Six-Packs" are as tired of this presidential race as I am, current events dictate that I intervene. (Cheap and unfunny, I know. I need some SNL writers.)

It's inevitable that political campaigns will eventually incite some amount of rancor. They involve issues that all people will get emotional about. Opinions on issues that typically arise in political discussions tend to closely relate to beliefs and feelings rooted deep within our upbringing and life experiences. And if someone comes along and challenges those beliefs, we're quick to get defensive and argumentative. Which can be positive, if kept under control; it's always good to offer alternate perspectives.

But things are clearly getting out of hand, on both sides. It's not about the issues any more, it's about who makes it to the 270-electoral-vote finish line first. And a significant portion of those undecided voters are swayed by sweeping generalizations ("Senator X has voted yes 398 times on bills to dump toxic waste directly into our elementary schools!") and outrageous exaggerations ("Senator Y has a summer home in a cave in Afghanistan!"). The sad fact is, if you want to win, you have to play these games at some point or another.

So that's what we've been constantly hearing, and these lies are causing the emotions of many Americans to boil over. You've heard the insane oversimplification that connects Sen. Obama to terrorism. People hear it over and over again, and with enough repetition, a sketchy claim all of a sudden becomes a tightly clung-to belief. Exclamations of "Terrorist!" and "Kill him!" (referring to Obama) have been heard at McCain/Palin rallies, according to this very well-written column in last Sunday's Dallas Morning News: Frank Schaeffer: John McCain is fueling a dangerous hatred.

And be sure, Sen. Obama's campaign hasn't exactly been daises and butterflies, either.

Fortunately for the well-being of our country, at least one man has (finally) begun to realize this. Take a look at some clips from McCain's campaign trail:



It scares me that, with a rare and sincere sentiment of sanity in this presidential campaign, you hear angry groans. This is a product of the hatred this campaign has generated. And I am grateful that John McCain had the courage to say what he said, because I, and every American, needed to hear it (even if they didn't want to). This dangerous spark, a terrible side effect from overly negative politics, can ignite into a violent firestorm. We have to make sure we put it out.

Man, it sucks that Tony Romo's out for 4 weeks, doesn't it? The world really is in trouble.

It Would Be Way Easier If I Wasn't An Idealist

America is just too good for politically-motivated slander.

It's that time again, when certain political analysts on CNN and Fox News and overzealous supporters from both sides of the political aisle conjure up the gods of meaningless insult, acrid slander, and empty arguments. You've heard me rant on this before, but get ready, 'cause here comes another one.

I'm all for political debate, as long as it's at least loosely concerning issues that Americans will actually be affected by. Part of Mitt Romney's speech at the RNC earlier tonight, when considering that a movement away from recent conservatism sought by the Democratic Party isn't really accurate: "Is it liberal or conservative when the Supreme Court awards constitutional rights to prisoners at Guantanamo Bay? Is it liberal or conservative when Congress listens to the teachers' union instead of being concerned about our children's education?" I heartily disagree with that, but hey, at least he's addressing issues that matter without resorting to petty name-calling, rumor-spreading, or other inappropriate propaganda.

When you start involving a VP candidate's family (i.e., Sarah Palin) or insisting that, dammit, Senator Obama was sworn in on the Quran, then I've got a problem. It's a tactic employed by people who probably don't fully understand an issue, and so desperately scramble for other arguments that miss the point, play on emotion, and support their prior beliefs (or, more accurately, destroy opposing beliefs).

Now, to be fair, I've been watching both conventions on both CNN and Fox, looking for things to get mad about and put in this blog entry. And to their credit, both networks have for the most part refrained from any egregious (in my mind) cases of slander, etc. You kinda have to look for it. Although, once you start reading some far-right or -left blogs, you don't have to look that hard.

But you have to believe that as we get closer and closer to that first Tuesday in November, you'll start seeing negative campaigning, negative mudslinging, and a generally negative attitude towards politics engulf our country. True, we were meant to debate -- it's what we like to do -- but not to the point where it gets needlessly offensive.

Like when religion gets mixed with politics. (And weather...?) The result usually isn't good:

"I was just thinking that [Hurricane] Gustav is proof that there is a God... that it would be on its way to New Orleans on day one of the Republican National Convention."
-- Michael Moore on an interview on CNBC.

"Would it be wrong to ask people to pray for rain of Biblical proportions two minutes before [Barack Obama's] acceptance speech begins?"
-- Focus on the Family spokesman Stuard Shepard as quoted in this article. (And by the way, apparently he wasn't kidding...there was an urging for people to do just that.)

Not dignifying either with a response.

So please, let's not say things that demolish rather than accomplish. And let's try and avoid those "I'm Right, Those Other Guys Are Wrong, End Of Story" television advertisements, chain e-mails, or casual discussions over drinks (alright, those are usually harmless and way entertaining). It's an attitude that will do our country a lot of good. And I think the vast majority of Americans are fed up with it anyway and, no matter who's elected, would love to see Democrats reach out to Republicans (and Joe Liebermann) and Republicans (and Joe Liebermann) reach out to Democrats and actually get some good stuff done.

*Stepping down from soap box, to wild applause*

Not Your Usual Animated Flick

Isn't it nice when a story transcends any sort of political or ideological alignments to send a message that is audible to everyone?

I saw Wall-E for the second time over the weekend. Watching movies twice is something I often do. Since I know how the story itself unfolds the second time, I usually look for some of the more subtle elements of theatrical storytelling: the music, the technical aspects, the cinematography, or even searching for some sort of between-the-lines meaning that floats underneath the plot. Wall-E is most certainly not without deep and meaningful truths.

Caution: If you've haven't seen Wall-E yet, save reading this blog until after you've seen it. You really owe it to yourself to see this movie without any kind of preconceived notions. Really, go see it now.

Now that we got that out of the way, let's first give those geniuses at Pixar their due; it's truly a visually captivating film. There's not one frame in this 132-minute epic that isn't spectacular. I am continually impressed by the imagination of these guys. And might I point out that so many of the names in the end credits got their start on "The Simpsons": Brad Bird and Jim Reardon, to name two. The first half-hour contains no dialogue whatsoever, telling a story in a Charlie Chaplin-esque style to which most modern moviegoers are not accustomed. Allusions to other literary and cinematic works, most notably 2001, are sprinkled throughout.

But the technical brilliance of Wall-E is merely the beginning. The depth of its story and the gravity of some of its implications overwhelm you as you're watching it. It's nearly impossible to sum the premise this film up in five sentences, but in the interest of further analysis, I will try. Earth has been completely trashed by its inhabitants; not by greenhouse gases or nuclear waste, but literally with trash, as fueled by an ultra-consumerist government/corporation hybrid that really depends upon technology for everything. While robots are left behind to clean up the mess (one of which is Wall-E), all of Earth's inhabitants are sent to space on a five year uber-vacation where robots tend to humans' every need. Small problem: Earth actually has become so toxic that it's become uninhabitable, so the vacation turns permanent. Humans don't really seem to mind, as they're perfectly happy in an environment where their needs are always immediately fulfilled and all work (including walking) is eliminated. But, as the story unfolds, humans eventually rebel and prevail over the oppressive (not in the usual sense) regime of the ship's robotic auto pilot, Auto.

And of course, analysts on various 24-hour news networks stooped a little low and stirred up controversy around this movie. (Which shocked me, given the depth of their usual programming. I'm kidding.) Is Wall-E just tree-hugging environmentalist and anti-consumerist propaganda? Is it a criticism of liberalism, saying that big government will eventually choke the individuality out of us?



I believe that if you're making such an argument, you're kind of missing the point, and you're only trying to use the themes presented in this film to discredit those whose opinions don't match you're own. That's not to say that there aren't important lessons here: it's conceivable that we could end up as brainless and over-pampered blobs who must always have our eyes pasted to some sort of computer screen. And that's pretty undesirable.

Wall-E teaches us that humanity is unbelievably important and is something we cannot lose. The irony of Wall-E lies in the fact that the robots are the most human entities in this movie (at least until the end). The love story between robots Wall-E and Eve only can develop when they transcend their internal programming and circuitry that should compel them only to accomplish a certain set of tasks. Also, it seems to me (and some other columnists and bloggers) that Wall-E is easy to connect to because he (or it?) is charged with the relatively menial task of collecting and compacting trash. There's something awfully human about hard work.

I was pleased to read some approving columns from both sides of the political warzone. New York Times columnist Frank Rich wrote some interesting things in his column. To continue my Jon Stewart-esque criticism of 24-hour news, "While the real-life grown-ups on TV were again rebooting Vietnam, the kids at Wall-E were in deep contemplation of a world in peril — and of the future that is theirs to make what they will of it. Compare any 10 minutes of the movie with 10 minutes of any cable-news channel, and you’ll soon be asking: Exactly who are the adults in our country and who are the cartoon characters?"

And conservative columnist Rod Dreher provided some interesting analysis as well: "Wall-E says that humans have within themselves the freedom to rebel, to overthrow that which dominates and alienates us from our true selves, and our own nature. But you have to question the prime directive; that is, you have to become conscious of how the way you're living is destroying your body and killing your soul, and choose to resist. Wall-E contends that real life is hard, real life is struggle, and that we live most meaningfully not by avoiding pain and struggle, but by engaging it creatively, and sharing that struggle in community." (Full column at, yes, beliefnet.com)

The bottom line is that Wall-E is just a great story with lessons that we should all repeat to ourselves occasionally. (And by the way, even if it is "environmentalist propaganda", is that such a terrible thing?) But one thing is for sure: the fact that Wall-E has the depth to allow for such discussions, when compared to the usual fare in the animated film industry, let alone its technical brilliance, is reason enough to convince me that it should at least be in the running for Best Picture at next February's Academy Awards.

Anyone still reading? Didn't think so.