Sunday, May 30, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
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.
"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.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
JoshCast #23 - The High Road
I heard "The High Road" for the first time on Radio Austin at work the other day and found it oddly catchy. I didn't particularly LOVE it the first time I heard it, but found myself silently singing the chorus hours later.
"The High Road" is the single off of Broken Bells's self-titled album, released a couple of months ago. And oh, by the way, Broken Bells is yet another "super-collaboration", this time between Danger Mouse and James Mercer (right), lead singer of The Shins. (If they ever make a movie about Mercer, might I suggest that Kevin Spacey play the starring role?)
If only the song ended more strongly! That's my only complaint. Still, the first three minutes are worth your while:
"The High Road" is the single off of Broken Bells's self-titled album, released a couple of months ago. And oh, by the way, Broken Bells is yet another "super-collaboration", this time between Danger Mouse and James Mercer (right), lead singer of The Shins. (If they ever make a movie about Mercer, might I suggest that Kevin Spacey play the starring role?)If only the song ended more strongly! That's my only complaint. Still, the first three minutes are worth your while:
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Now I'm No Hot-Shot Politician...
Let's face it. After two weeks of storm chasing stories, I'm due for a snoozer.
I don't have any facts. All I have to go by is The Daily Show (NOT fact) and a personal account from a lawyer (also, probably NOT fact) familiar with one of the most sweeping pieces of legislation in American history, the The Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act.
I'm not here to debate whether I think health care should be controlled or facilitated by the government (*ahem*, it should), because I don't want to alienate my single-digit audience. But I am here to present an example of why, as constructed, the bill might not work like it's supposed to.
One of the provisions of the health care bill provides for a Qualifying Therapeutic Discovery Project Credit. In shorthand, this is a provision that sets aside $1 billion for tax credits or grants for small biotechnology companies (less than 250 employees). Such credits/grants would reimburse companies for 50% of selected expenses incurred from 2009-2010 associated with projects that develop homegrown technologies that address some kind of healthcare need.
So it's designed to help domestic small business, which is the target of countless legislation over the years.
Sounds great, right?
Well, think about it. You're technically reimbursing companies for work they've ALREADY DONE, not work that they're GOING TO DO. I suppose that helps the pocketbooks of small business that are hurting, but is it the best way to encourage new growth? In fact, according to the lawyer I spoke with, companies that are out of business have every right to apply for this credit. And companies that are out of business tend to not grow.
I have to stress: I don't know all the facts, and I've unfortunately become so disenchanted with such debates that I don't have the desire to learn all of the facts. And problems like this are probably inevitable given the scope of the problem the government is trying to solve, the insane time constraints, and the compromises that are made to appease various political factions. I suppose we can trust that the committees that decide to whom to grant these credits chooses wisely.
But wouldn't it be better to reward future efforts than past efforts while we're on the road to recovery?
Hooray America!
I don't have any facts. All I have to go by is The Daily Show (NOT fact) and a personal account from a lawyer (also, probably NOT fact) familiar with one of the most sweeping pieces of legislation in American history, the The Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act.
I'm not here to debate whether I think health care should be controlled or facilitated by the government (*ahem*, it should), because I don't want to alienate my single-digit audience. But I am here to present an example of why, as constructed, the bill might not work like it's supposed to.
One of the provisions of the health care bill provides for a Qualifying Therapeutic Discovery Project Credit. In shorthand, this is a provision that sets aside $1 billion for tax credits or grants for small biotechnology companies (less than 250 employees). Such credits/grants would reimburse companies for 50% of selected expenses incurred from 2009-2010 associated with projects that develop homegrown technologies that address some kind of healthcare need.
So it's designed to help domestic small business, which is the target of countless legislation over the years.
Sounds great, right?
Well, think about it. You're technically reimbursing companies for work they've ALREADY DONE, not work that they're GOING TO DO. I suppose that helps the pocketbooks of small business that are hurting, but is it the best way to encourage new growth? In fact, according to the lawyer I spoke with, companies that are out of business have every right to apply for this credit. And companies that are out of business tend to not grow.
I have to stress: I don't know all the facts, and I've unfortunately become so disenchanted with such debates that I don't have the desire to learn all of the facts. And problems like this are probably inevitable given the scope of the problem the government is trying to solve, the insane time constraints, and the compromises that are made to appease various political factions. I suppose we can trust that the committees that decide to whom to grant these credits chooses wisely.
But wouldn't it be better to reward future efforts than past efforts while we're on the road to recovery?
Hooray America!
Saturday, May 15, 2010
"It Never Touched The Ground"
You'd think ten lengthy blog posts would be enough to cover my week-long storm-chasing excursion. Not so. I'm about to take this thing "all the way to eleven" (any Spinal Tap fans out there...?). And then, that'll be all...and not a moment too soon, as I'm sure by now you've had just about enough of my twister-related drivel.
As I meandered out of my hotel room into the lobby on Tuesday morning, I crossed paths with none other than Tim Samaras, yet ANOTHER renowed storm chaser. Later that morning in the parking lot, we actually got to shake his hand and shoot the breeze (no pun intended) about the week's action. I'm still trying to comprehend the fact that I've met so many leaders in the field this week.
The day is looking far calmer than Monday, according to forecasts. The only real shot at supercellular activity will be found in west Oklahoma. If anything does fire, it will be a single isolated cell, and enough ingredients will be in place for it to really explode.
But not until late afternoon/evening. In the meantime, we tour the damage caused by the tornadoes that ripped through Norman and Shawnee the day before. Trees down, powerline poles snapped, roofs covered in blue tarp...it's a sad sight to see. A Love's gas station west of Shawnee takes the blue ribbon as the most sobering sight:
Someone later told us that, moments before the tornado hit, around 30 people had been wandering in the store or near the gas pumps. A trucker, aware of the situation, pulled in and urged everyone to take cover. Everyone piled into the store's cooler/freezer, and as a result, all were unharmed.
After lunch at Applebee's (again), we cruise to Elk City in western Oklahoma and wait for the action to begin. A strong cap, or layer of warm, dry air, is hindering convective development. But we're patient: sooner or later, one of these storms is bound to explode. Sure enough, we drive southward and find a supercell in the beginning stages of development:
We spot all of the classic features of a supercell: cloud base, striations, anvil, small hail core. Even mammatus clouds begin to form faintly on the underside of the anvil:
Oddly, this is about as advanced as the storm gets. Just as the storm is severe-warned, it begins to fall apart and is replaced by blue skies in under a half-hour. This confuses all of us, even our meteorologist Dave. Just goes to show we still have a lot to learn.
It's pretty late in the day now, about 7pm, and we're starting to run low on daylight. If we're going to see anything, it had better fire quickly. A cluster of storms begin to form north of us by about 40 miles. Our next target. Luckily, these storms are plodding along at about 20 mph -- a far cry from Monday's storms, which raced at over 70 mph, too fast to catch.
We cross paths with Reed and the Dominator, and follow them into back roads southeast of Woodward. And when I say back roads, I mean BACK roads:
After maybe 15 minutes, we find a clearing at the top of a hill, just southeast of the storm, with no signs of civilization around. The PERFECT vantage point for watching a tornado...if only the darn thing would drop:
Can you imagine? A dark funnel descending from the heavens, backlit by twilight? Alas, it didn't happen, and soon, it's too dark to keep the chase alive. So close.
We're behind Reed and the Dominator still, and we are forced to lag behind as they wrap up shooting with the Discovery Channel. (I observed what happened from afar and am in-the-know on some storylines for the show Storm Chasers. But the Discovery Channel crew are pretty serious, and I rather enjoy living, so I better not divulge the details.) Afterwards, we have just enough energy for one last pose before we make the three-hour drive back to Oklahoma City:
After one last midnight meal at Denny's, Klipsi traces a famous line from the movie Twister in the back window of our dust-covered van (these guys were quoting Twister ALL WEEK LONG):
Fitting, since our last tornado never actually did touch the ground.
This whole expedition has been nothing short of amazing, especially after the action started on Monday. I can now proudly say that I HAVE done something crazy in my life...a dozen years ahead of Ray Kinsella. But this has, predictably, developed a strong hunger in me to keep this insanity going. Returning to normal life has been somewhat of a rude awakening, and not just because I was returning from a vacation.
I HAVE to do this again...and next time I can do so more knowledgeably. Mark my words, one day I will chase on my own.
And if a tornado is barreling towards me, I WON'T have locked my keys in my car.
Image credit: Olivier Staiger, www.klipsi.ch
As I meandered out of my hotel room into the lobby on Tuesday morning, I crossed paths with none other than Tim Samaras, yet ANOTHER renowed storm chaser. Later that morning in the parking lot, we actually got to shake his hand and shoot the breeze (no pun intended) about the week's action. I'm still trying to comprehend the fact that I've met so many leaders in the field this week.
The day is looking far calmer than Monday, according to forecasts. The only real shot at supercellular activity will be found in west Oklahoma. If anything does fire, it will be a single isolated cell, and enough ingredients will be in place for it to really explode.
But not until late afternoon/evening. In the meantime, we tour the damage caused by the tornadoes that ripped through Norman and Shawnee the day before. Trees down, powerline poles snapped, roofs covered in blue tarp...it's a sad sight to see. A Love's gas station west of Shawnee takes the blue ribbon as the most sobering sight:
Someone later told us that, moments before the tornado hit, around 30 people had been wandering in the store or near the gas pumps. A trucker, aware of the situation, pulled in and urged everyone to take cover. Everyone piled into the store's cooler/freezer, and as a result, all were unharmed.
After lunch at Applebee's (again), we cruise to Elk City in western Oklahoma and wait for the action to begin. A strong cap, or layer of warm, dry air, is hindering convective development. But we're patient: sooner or later, one of these storms is bound to explode. Sure enough, we drive southward and find a supercell in the beginning stages of development:
We spot all of the classic features of a supercell: cloud base, striations, anvil, small hail core. Even mammatus clouds begin to form faintly on the underside of the anvil:
Oddly, this is about as advanced as the storm gets. Just as the storm is severe-warned, it begins to fall apart and is replaced by blue skies in under a half-hour. This confuses all of us, even our meteorologist Dave. Just goes to show we still have a lot to learn.
It's pretty late in the day now, about 7pm, and we're starting to run low on daylight. If we're going to see anything, it had better fire quickly. A cluster of storms begin to form north of us by about 40 miles. Our next target. Luckily, these storms are plodding along at about 20 mph -- a far cry from Monday's storms, which raced at over 70 mph, too fast to catch.
We cross paths with Reed and the Dominator, and follow them into back roads southeast of Woodward. And when I say back roads, I mean BACK roads:
After maybe 15 minutes, we find a clearing at the top of a hill, just southeast of the storm, with no signs of civilization around. The PERFECT vantage point for watching a tornado...if only the darn thing would drop:
Can you imagine? A dark funnel descending from the heavens, backlit by twilight? Alas, it didn't happen, and soon, it's too dark to keep the chase alive. So close.
We're behind Reed and the Dominator still, and we are forced to lag behind as they wrap up shooting with the Discovery Channel. (I observed what happened from afar and am in-the-know on some storylines for the show Storm Chasers. But the Discovery Channel crew are pretty serious, and I rather enjoy living, so I better not divulge the details.) Afterwards, we have just enough energy for one last pose before we make the three-hour drive back to Oklahoma City:
After one last midnight meal at Denny's, Klipsi traces a famous line from the movie Twister in the back window of our dust-covered van (these guys were quoting Twister ALL WEEK LONG):
Fitting, since our last tornado never actually did touch the ground.
This whole expedition has been nothing short of amazing, especially after the action started on Monday. I can now proudly say that I HAVE done something crazy in my life...a dozen years ahead of Ray Kinsella. But this has, predictably, developed a strong hunger in me to keep this insanity going. Returning to normal life has been somewhat of a rude awakening, and not just because I was returning from a vacation.
I HAVE to do this again...and next time I can do so more knowledgeably. Mark my words, one day I will chase on my own.
And if a tornado is barreling towards me, I WON'T have locked my keys in my car.
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