Carefree Conversations

Of late, I and my pub mates have grown tired of all the consistent doom and gloom so prevalent in today's media reports. So at last Thursday's get together at The Three Q's we all decided to explore the lighter side of things, and forbade any mention of ebola, ISIS, the wonder of Zimbabwean democracy or, closer to home, gas plants and the valiant and increasingly successful attempt of Ontario to emulate the financial position of Greece.

Present were John Digg, who farms the property next to my own, Alice Deptford, a truly adept economist, and Dr. Phillip Pratt, Head of the Philosophy Department at the University of Toronto, and simply a gem when it comes to an interesting conversation.

And an interesting conversation  was the aim of this evening's outing, along with the proviso that the topics should be of the light-hearted, even fluffy variety.

Once we were ensconced at our table, with pints ordered and fetched by Professor Pratt, Alice began by suggesting that some of the most interesting discussions she had ever had centered around those  things that had one meaning, but could be reached by any number of approaches, whether mathematical, metaphorical, logical or historical.

This seemed to be heading directly into obscurantism, so I asked Alice, "I think some examples might help."

"Second that," said John. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I think," replied Alice, "that I may have described the matter in overly complicated terms. All I meant was that a given topic always has many sides to it, all of them valid, and none of which takes away from its central meaning. So if we have an equation that states that ten plus three is equal to five plus eight, or nine plus four equals six plus seven, it doesn't matter to the end result, that is, thirteen.

"So what you're saying, Alice, is that regardless of the roads taken, providing that individual numbers one to twelve are used, the answer, thirteen, will always be correct."

"You have it. Now if you apply that thinking to the making of, say fettuccini alfredo, you will --- yes, Phillip?"

Dr. Pratt had been unusually quiet through all this, and one wondered just why. Or at least I did.

"There is," Pratt said, "one other aspect to your example. A rather interesting one, if I may be so bold. I note that one equation has not been brought forward for use as an example, to wit, "eleven plus two" is equal to "twelve plus one." Any reason for this, Alice?"

"Yeah. I didn't think of it. Why is this so of interest?"

"Look at the two sides of the equation. Note anything odd?"

Silence around the table until John Digg piped up, "Anagrams. 'Eleven plus two' is an anagram of 'twelve plus one.'" He sat back, took a good draught from his pint, and looked mighty pleased with himself.

"Puts the icing on your cake, Alice, does it not?" I put in.

"That it does. Now take fettuccini alfredo, forget about anagrams and pretend that ......."

And this is why I treasure these little get-togethers.




  

She: A Progress Report

This year marks a significant historical event -- the signing of the document of Magna Carta at Runnymede in 1215 by King John of England. The document promised the protection of Church rights, promised protection for barons from illegal imprisonment, promised access to swift justice and -- very important this -- promised limitations to feudal payments to the Crown.

Not referred to at all were the common people, children, and not a word about women. Mind you. some two years later King John reneged on the whole thing, so even its partial acknowledgement of certain rights still had to await more enlightened ages.

In the twenty-first century, all too many women are still awaiting for their rights to be acknowledged. To put a thirteenth century view of women into the vernacular of the twenty-first century, I turn to congresswoman Bella Abzug of New York, who, channelling Theodore Roosevelt, once stated, "Women have been trained to speak softly and carry a lipstick."

Now if any woman broke such a mold, to was Ms Abzug, but she has not been alone. Admittedly, the pace of change borders on the glacial, but the following could never have occurred in the thirteenth century:

1) A woman in Gary, Indiana swallows a pill, and terrifies the Pope.

2) A woman becomes a tech "baron' -- Marissa Mayer is now the Chief Executive Officer of Yahoo.

3)A woman wins the Nobel prize -- congratulations to Marie Curie.

4) Women run for high office, get elected to that office, and do very well in running entire countries. Step forward Golda Meir, Margaret Thatcher and Angela Merkel.

There is, of course, some distance to go. Women and girls, trapped in cultural and religious backwaters, are still treated as chattel by insecure males, subject to genital mutilation, "arranged" marriages and, if they stray, are killed for "honourable" reasons. But day after day attempts continue to be made by a variety of good people and organizations to shine light into these dark corners and argue that the best way forward for the male leaders is to cease and desist being sadistic idiots.

Let us so hope, although I did feel a tad discouraged when I ran across this comment from filmmaker and playwright David Mamet, who wrote, "The perfect girlfriend: one who makes love until two in the morning, and then turns into a pizza."

So female advancement will, I'm afraid, have to follow a prescription offered by "Grook" author Piet Hein: "T.T.T."*

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*Things take time. -- Ed.

The God Of The Mountain

Fredrich Nietzsche once wrote, "2000 years, and no new God!"

Sorry, Freddy, not entirely true. It has come to my attention that one god, hitherto unknown to me and I suspect a great many others, is certainly active. He/she/it apparently lives in the bowels of Mount Kinabalu in Malaysia, and is very powerful.

The following incident makes my point. A number of tourists were clambering around  the mountain in question, having a great time. Perhaps too good a time. Four Westerners, two Canadians, a Brit and a Netherlander, for whatever reason, thought it cool to exhibit a bit of nudity. I mean, why not?

Around this time a severe earthquake occurred.

Shortly after this, Malaysian police obtained a court order to hold the offenders for four days, to allow for an investigation into their indecent behaviour.

In many Malaysian minds, however, the earthquake itself had been precipitated by the nude cavorting that had occurred on Kinabalu's slopes. This view was echoed by a Malaysian official who suggested that the quake was a signal that the mountain god was angry at such behaviour. In the words of Deputy Chief Minister Joseph Pairin Kitingan, they had shown "disrespect to the sacred mountain." A special ritual, he added, will be conducted "to appease the mountain spirit."*

I hasten to add that at no point was any mention made of tectonic plates.

Now what we had in actuality was an act of youthful stupidity, but really no more than that, a point that various consular officials will be making with the Malaysian government. Yet where a strong faith in a disturbed god is concerned, all bets are off. In past ages, the offending four almost certainly been sacrificed to the god in an act of hopeful appeasement and the prevention of future upheavals of the earth. Let us hope that a more sane approach is adopted.

There is, however, no guarantee. As Benjamin Franklin has written, "The way to see by faith is to shut the eye of reason."

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*If left to the actions of the most committed and ardent believers, that "special ritual" could prove to be harrowing indeed for the offenders. -- L.S.S.

A Blatter Is Relieved

Occasionally you win one.

In my last report, I had written that the President of the Federation Internationale de Football Association, (FIFA) Sepp Blatter, would be likely to remain in his recently elected position of President. This in spite of growing concern regarding various forms of bribery and corruption that had  plagued this organization for years.

I am delighted to report that I was wrong.

The Americans, assisted by the Swiss, swooped down and arrested seven of the worst offenders, armed with charges of criminal activity that were likely to stick. The investigation, involving the American Department of Justice, had been going on for some time, so it was not just a case of rumours and further rumours. Suddenly, there were photographs.

Mr. Blatter, perhaps uneasy for the first time, suggested that he had been aware of the investigation, and implied that was one of the instigators of the process. (This would be akin to General Custer, after assessing a certain situation at Little Big Horn, fleeing to the side of Sitting Bull and saying, "let's have at 'em!" Unlikely to have worked then, and certainly wasn't going to work now.) 

Mr. Blatter, in attempting this strategy, was I believe remembering Juan Samaranch, who had successfully fought off similar charges while head of the International Olympic Committee (IOC). But Samaranch, or his preferred title "His Excellency", had served with Generalissimo Franco of Spain, and that tutelage had paid off big time.

Mr. Blatter had no such tutor, and when certain pressure was brought to bear, finally agreed to step down,* although he would continue in his position until a new election could be held.
Mind you, there can be many a slip between the cup and the lip, but for now, those who have witnessed the Beautiful Game being dragged through the mud too many times can now take heart.

So it's bye bye Mr. Blatter, and I conclude with the following words from the American writer and poet, Catherynne M. Valente, who might well be speaking not just on the fate of Mr. Blatter, but on the electoral situation in the Province of Ontario: "Never out your faith in a Prince. When you require a miracle, trust in a Witch."

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* The likes of Olympic sponsors such as Nike, McDonalds et al were not going to put up with the type of invective that would have been directed at Mr. Blatter by Europe and North America, and by association at them. These firms marketing and product sales would have taken a hit that was a bridge too far. At this point I suspect an offer was made to Mr. Blatter that he could not refuse. -- L.S.S.

Step By Step We Advance

Sometimes it is difficult to raise one's head above the continual media stress on gloom and doom. I understand this -- the negative focus allows for the money-making "positive" ads to shine more brightly -- but occasionally one must reach for examples that point the way to a saner future. 

Here are two examples.

The growth in transparency of things previously kept from sight is heartwarming. Where government is concerned, the role of an independent auditor has increased in power, something that in the public's opinion is a very Good Thing. Such reports from an auditor do much to dispel the darkness cast by kickbacks, deceit, and outright fraud.*

Buttressing an auditor's exposure of financial actions that at time border on idiocy are the actions of the public itself, via that invention that would have been stopped in its tracks had government any sort of strategic planning initiative. I speak, of course, of the smart phone, where countless examples indicate that it is becoming more and more difficult for wrongdoing (often by police forces themselves) to be kept from the public eye. In such cases, the words of Justice William O. Douglas of the U.S. Supreme Court ring true: "Sunlight is the best disinfectant."

To be sure, there exist "Peoples' Paradises" where possession of such a device causes you to literally lose your head, or send you off to a lovely camp in the country to re-learn the joys of serving some glorious president. Yet I believe in time that this will change. The sun is not going to stop shining anytime soon.

Goodness, even that bastion of bribery, the Evil Empire of FIFA, has now come under attack.** Such courageous action recalls those brave prelates that undertook to reform the powerful Catholic Church during the Renaissance, and it is the Church that gives me my second example.

Ireland, ever since a certain saint, without the help of pesticides from Monsanto, drove out the reptiles from the Emerald Isle, has given unwavering support to the Church and all its teachings. Even today, abortions are non-starter.

Yet two days ago, in a binding referendum, the Irish populace voted to allow and sanction same-sex marriage. Two hundred years ago, had such a policy ever been put forward, the perpetrators would have undergone torture eagerly undertaken by the Holy Inquisition and then the convicted sent merrily to a fiery stake. Not so today, and the reaction of the Church was not proclaim a violent response, but to begin a massive sulk.

And the assault on the Church does not stop there. As a recent recipient of the Man Booker prize wrote, "Show me where it says in the Bible 'Purgatory'. Shows me where it says relics, monks, nuns. Show me where it says, 'Pope'"***

Woody Allen, as might be expected, goes further: "Not only is there no God, but try getting a plumber on weekends."

Step by step we advance.

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* At least one auditor, Andre Marin of Ontario, has been so effective that the public in a recent poll gave him massive support. This prompted the Premier, Kathleen Wynne, to indicate to the press that his contract would not be renewed.

** This action actually irritated the Godfather of FIFA, Sepp Blatter, a real first. (Previously, it was anathema to even link his name with the tawdry bribes occurring under his "reign".) Countries in Europe and North America won't be supporting him in his bid for re-election. Won't matter -- Russia, China and most countries in Africa give him their full (and paid for) support. A sad aspect of The Beautiful Game.

***Hilary Mantel in her novel Wolf Hall.

Only In Canada

Canada is truly blessed. At a time when all sorts of mayhem are breaking out here there and everywhere (as the Lennon/McCartney song goes) this lovely country decides not to fall into the pit of acrimony and despair, but rather embrace the inane.

Allow me to elaborate.

In the seas of the Orient, various grumbles and snarls can be heard as countries quarrel over several rock piles deemed "strategic", with the concomitant mobilization of navies (in some cases only a shrimp boat and a dinghy, but still....) and missile launchers pointed every which way.

The border between Ukraine and Russia continues to be a festering mess, with strange soldiers resembling Russians turning up here and there. "Certainly not ours" states Vladimir Putin fervently.

In the Middle East, the sub-humans that comprise the Islamic State continue their savage march through Syria and Iraq destroying priceless historical artefacts, killing all "infidels" and substituting the word 'woman' with the more Islamic designation, 'chattel'. Only the Kurdish Peshmerga cause the sub-humans to retreat -- real soldiers will have that effect.

Those masters of capitalism, the drug cartels in South America and Mexico, continue to flourish, and never mind the ghastly 'collateral damage' wrought on civilians. It is, after all, simply the cost of doing business in order that the United States be well served with the necessary 'uppers' and 'downers'.

As for our American neighbours, the worship of the god named "Gun" continues, sanctioned by a total mis-reading of the Second Amendment of their Constitution and illustrated by a murder rate that is appalling. Add in a black/white divide, and you have an ironic take on that wonderful song from the musical Hairspray, "Good morning, Baltimore!"

And now we come to Canada, which is currently in a state of upheaval.

The issue?

The hiring of a new coach, Mike Babcock, for that paragon of hockey ineptitude, the Toronto Maple Leafs. Now I hasten to stress that it wasn't the hiring itself that caused the uproar,* but rather Mr. Babcock's statement that the Leafs were "Canada's team." This is something that every Canadian knows deep in his or her heart, but something you never ever state publicly.

The uproar went coast to coast immediately, and the air was filled with invective and retorts, including dire threats.** Even in Ontario, the continuing horror story of the Wynne government was put on hold. At least for a day.

My point, of course, is that no one is likely to get killed, violence will be kept in a verbal arena, missiles will be kept in their silos*** and life in Canada will continue to flourish.

As stated at the beginning, we are truly blessed.

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* With the possible exception of Buffalo, who thought they had a lock on Mr. Babcock.

** Schwartz's Deli In Montreal has indicated that Mr. Babcock will not get to enjoy smoked meat in that hallowed venue.

*** Canadian silos only contain wheat, not missiles.

Mind The Gap

The title of this week's missive may mislead. I am not arguing for a studied gaze upon a certain clothing store on a High Street or a mall, but rather something quite different, and much, much more important.

The 'gap' to which I refer is the distance between two sides, a distance that should not be there at all. Let me explain.

In a true labour negotiation, two sides are prominent -- union members and management. No gap can be seen between the two, and if the negotiation fails, one or the other succumbs. At its worst, the union is so successful that management folds, recalling a statement by General Wally Westmoreland on a Vietnam triumph, "We had to destroy that village to save it." If management is similarly victorious, workers will do the bare minimum of work, making life exceedingly difficult for management to the detriment of everyone.

It is for these reasons that negotiations are taken very seriously for both sides, and in most cases a successful compromise is reached. Most importantly of all, no third party gets hammered by being an innocent victim.

If, however, an entity should find itself, through no part of its own, caught in the gap, then that entity suffers dearly.

In certain cases, the government steps in and removes the innocent party from the gap by naming that party an 'essential service'. Fire fighters and police officers are good examples here. There is one other party that should be in this category, one more essential than any other, our children.

It is incredible that a teacher strike can, in the 21st century, still be allowed to occur with schoolchildren caught in the gap. As one noted educator has written, "Never lose sight of the fact that the child as learner is not only the centre of the educational system, but the very reason for its existence." *

Not the teacher, nor the school board nor even the government, but the child as learner. And if H.G.Wells was right when he wrote that "Human history becomes more and more a race between education and catastrophe" ** then it becomes truly imperative that teaching be designated an essential service as soon as possible.

Q.E.D.

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* Dr. R.W. Jackson, former Director of the Ontario Institute of Education, in Issues and Directions, Ontario Ministry of Education, 1980, p.1 -- Ed.

** H.G. Wells, The Outline of History, Ch. 40 of the 1951 edition. --Ed.

The Dead Go To Court

The dead can go to court and launch a lawsuit?

Well, apparently.

I have just learned that Manitoba's highest court ruled that the family of one Robert Sinclair could sue the Manitoba health authority for a breach of charter rights and privacy rights.

The specific incident? Mr. Sinclair died after a 34 hour wait in the Winnipeg Health Sciences Centre, where his medical stress was not attended to. Rights related to "prior care", the responsibility of the Winnipeg Regional Health Authority, were  stated to be ignored.

Before this ruling, lower courts had maintained that such rights died with Mr. Sinclair in 2008. After eight months of deliberations, however, the Manitoba Court of Appeals allowed the lawsuit to proceed. This decision raises some fascinating issues, not the least of which might be the following cases. The initials D.O. stand for "descendants of".

1) D.O. Anne Boleyn and Catharine Howard vs. Tudor Inc.

This suit claims damages, financial and punitive, for wrongful persecution and subsequent beheading. Written testimony from Henry VIII and Thomas Cromwell will be prominent in defense of the charge.

2) D.O. Joan of Arc vs. The House of Valois

The descendants want redress and financial compensation for cruel and unlawful use of arson against Jeanne d'Arc, with a focus upon the betrayal of Charles VII by illegally turning the prosecution of the Maid of Orleans over to the English.

3) D.O. Louis Riel vs. The Queen in Right of Canada.

The descendants in this case are any Metis currently existing. Extensive financial damages are sought, along with a heartfelt apology from the Queen, and the sanctioning of a charge of racism against any descendants of John A. MacDonald.

Thus Manitoba appears to have opened an interesting door, and any further action the initial case will bear close attention. Certainly I suspect that there will be any number of people "courting the dead". So to speak.

An Unholy Sandwich

Normally, our little outings at The Three Q's pub are characterized by pints of Best Boddingtons and quiet and considered discussion, along with the occasional verbal jab or witty rejoinder. Not so last evening.

Now I had not sought to write on this topic again -- my thought are well known -- but one of our group, a dedicated schoolteacher, was obviously distraught and at one point came close to tears. The issue? A looming teacher's strike.

She introduced the topic by indicating her support for unions, ignoring my shudder. However, she went on to say that in a strike situation, this support was conditional upon there being only two actors: the union and a firm's management. Negotiations between these two would either result in a compromise that worked for the two parties, or led to the firm going out of business. This result would mean, of course, that the union would be out of business as well.

A tough situation, to be sure, but one that has been with us for some time.

Then my teacher friend made a telling point.

The union / management negotiation, she suggested, breaks down when the two sides involved trap an innocent third entity between them. In a municipal strike, that third entity is the public; in the case of a teacher strike, it is schoolchildren.

"The whole mess," she stated, "resembles a sandwich with the innocent party caught between two slices of bread. Something has gone very wrong here. Why should the public or children be cast as victims in a struggle they had nothing to do with?"

I added that this struggle could continue for some time. After all, the entity termed 'management' in this case was a combination of elected politicians and civil servant managers, and would be unlikely to state that they were folding the enterprise the way a private sector company might.

After a rather protracted and heated discussion involving several more pints, we reached a sort of agreement on the issue, at least one worthy of further exploration. This would involve binding arbitration, with three players: a negotiator selected by the union, one selected by management, and a third agreed to by both. Non-financial matters would be up for decision, and the budget for the settlement drawn from public treasury would be capped and be approved by a respected auditor prior to the negotiation.

We all deemed the process worth a try, and the approach might even work. Certainly students, parents and taxpayers would be grateful. The problem would be that to bring this about would take a degree of courage on the part of politicians.

As Charlie Brown might say, "Rats."

A Tale Of Two Budgets.

The title of this particular missive is, as astute readers (as which of you are not) will immediately recognize, honours Charles Dickens A Tale of Two Cities. The 'two' mentioned here, however, involve the recent budgetary announcements on the part of the Canadian Federal government and the Province of Ontario.

(An aside. In this discussion, I have avoided the use of specific figures and their justifications. Were I to do so, this would turn this weekly report into an extensive tome which would take an inordinate time on my part to write, and inordinate time on your part to read. Given newspapers and the Internet, all such information is readily available.)

Now I turn to Dickens again, who is proving to be a rather sturdy prop in these writings. This from his novel, David Copperfield, the speaker being the economically sound Wilkins Micawber:

"Annual income, twenty pounds; annual expenditure, nineteen pounds and six, result happiness. Annual income, twenty pounds; annual expenditure, twenty pounds nought and six, result misery."

The Federal government appears to have recognized this principle, and have put forward a balanced budget. It must be admitted that this took time, given the fiscal hole that opened up when the 'too big to fail' institutions fell apart, sending governments worldwide into a tailspin. But achieve balance they did, and no doubt Mr. Micawber would roundly approve.

Moreover, the Federal budget seeks to return to taxpayers excess monies it does not need, in terms of higher TFSA* contributions and a relaxation of RIF* rules with respect to withdrawal amounts. It is almost as if the Feds recognize that it is not "their" money, but ours.

There is no such recognition of this in the just tabled provincial budget. Indeed, the announcement makes it all too clear that Ontario will continue for some time to live beyond its means and spend beyond its capacity. A balanced budget is a thing of the future.

And keeping Mr. Micawber's words in mind, I find that the past and present initiatives of the current Liberal government do not exactly lend confidence to the proposed balanced budget in 2017-18. Think of such wonders as the e-health fiasco, the purchase of too small Medevac helicopters, the sleazy gas plant issue, the horror story that is Ontario Hydro, well, you get the picture, along with the loss some 2.3 billion taxpayer dollars.

As another Dickensian character might put it: "Bah. Humbug."

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* These explanations are given just in case a reader has been out of the country for a goodly time, or away from the planet on the good ship Oxycontin. TFSA is a tax free savings account and a RIF is a guaranteed registered income fund. A phone call to the Canadian Revenue Agency can explain their use, as can any reasonably educated banker. -- Ed.

Tripping Over The Light Fantastic

It was, I believe, the poet Robert Frost who once wrote, "Isn't it funny how the Supreme Court is always right?"

Now while I would normally support Frost in his poetic endeavours, in terms of prose he is somewhat wide of the mark. There are, in fact, a number of decisions of the Supreme Court in the U.S. that stand out as being simply wrong.

The best example would be the Dred Scott decision of 1857. Mr. Scott, a black man, had sued for his freedom. After some support for this view from lower courts, the Supreme Court, under a Chief Justice known as a strong supporter of slavery, wrote a majority opinion rejecting Mr. Scott's claim.* Not the Court's finest hour.

In the modern era, the  U.S.Supreme Court proceeded to make another serious error: the Citizens United decision in 2010 that opened the floodgates for the corporations to give massive financial support to Political Action Committees to ensure a candidate's electability, whether to the Senate, the House of Representatives, or, indeed, the Presidency itself. The principle of government of the people, by the people, for the people somehow got lost in this particular shuffle.

Well, you say, that's just in the United States. Canada's Supreme Court avoids such nonsensical rulings.

Not so fast -- a recent decision trips right into the magical and fantastic. To wit, the recent decision to strike down the mandatory minimum sentence law for illegal gun possession. And it is important to note that the mandatory three and five year sentences handed down to the two individuals in the case under appeal were acknowledged by the justices to be appropriate.

Then six of the nine justices went further, and tripped right into the land of make believe by suggesting that there could be some future case where the law would constitute "cruel and unusual punishment". And since the majority couldn't find one single case to make this argument, the Chief Justice, Beverley McLachlan, entered the world of the fantastic and MADE ONE UP!

She put forward the hypothetical situation of a licenced and responsible gun owner who stores his unloaded firearm safely with ammunition nearby and then makes a mistake as to where it can be stored. She then added, "similar examples can be envisaged."

Envisaged.

Chief Justice, I would humbly suggest that "envisaging" is one thing, interpreting the law another. Ponder this.

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* Chief Justice Roger Taney, rarely cited as a beacon of  wise jurisprudence. -- Ed.

When An App Is Not Apt

I am harbouring a fugitive.

While I have in the past from time to time skipped rather lightly through the stern and forbidding halls of jurisprudence, such action was always in a Good Cause.* The present situation falls into a somewhat different category.

It involves Hester (not her real name, but a kind of homage to a certain lass who once wore a certain letter) who, aside from being a great elementary teacher, is absolutely brilliant in the field of electronics. particularly where small devices are concerned.

Indeed, while active in The Trade, there was many a time when I was grateful to possess some of Hester's devices, not the least of which was a tiny buzzy thing that, when primed and released, would fly around a room making an infernal noise and causing panic among any others in the room. Since these personages were often the Ungodly, the distraction was always enough to allow one to escape what would otherwise be a dire situation.

Something akin to that device was at the heart of Hester's current flight from justice.

Apparently she had developed an app for a smart phone that allowed the smart phone owner to do something rather weird. This is difficult to believe, but since I later determined that what Hester said happened really did happen, well...judge for yourself.

Hester's app was designed to detect voice modulation that indicated whenever a person was skirting the truth, or actually lying. When this occurred, the device would begin a low level whine that, if the lying continued, would gradually rise in volume to a powerful and extremely harsh screech that quickly proved unbearable to the human ear. (Hester informed me that dogs and cats simply passed out).

We explored this app one night at the Three Q's pub, and had a great time. Shortly after, however, Hester made a big mistake.

While chaperoning a school trip to the provincial legislature, she forgot to leave the device at home. Worse, while fetching a tissue for one of her charges, she inadvertently turned the phone on. Given the words being uttered at the legislature, it was not long before that soft whine had reached ear-piercing volume. Pandemonium reigned, all members were convinced terrorism was rampant, and a lock up was urged for the legislature.

Hester, being in charge of a now very unruly elementary class, was given a very cursory once-over, and then allowed to leave. However, there was a very good chance that when the politicians had finished solving the issue, electronic engineers  could begin to really determine what had occurred. Hester knew this, and therefore thought it best to lay low for a while. The school was informed that Hester had developed a very sore scarlet rash, having come into too close contact with a hawthorn bush and needed to use up some of her sick days. (Being a union member, she had 3672 stashed).

And as far as that device is concerned. I gave Hester an "A" for effort.

A Surfeit of Slogans

Of late, I have become interested in slogans, and their effect upon policies and programs beloved of politicians. Not so much in Canada, a country which tends to stick to the issues, but in the United States, where slogans achieve real importance.

This American trait has being going on for some time. Some of the more memorable slogans are as follows. And I have avoided giving much of the "surround" to these statements. To do so would turn this missive into an overlong exposition of arcane facts, a process much better left to the reader and Google.

"Tippecanoe and Tyler too." This slogan, embedded in a song,  commemorated a military victory at Tippecanoe of William Henry Harrison, and led to Harrison becoming the ninth president of the U.S. in1840. (The Tyler reference was to John Tyler, a Whig supporter of Harrison).

"We are being crucified on a cross of gold!" This rhetorical scream was made by William Jennings Bryan in support of maintaining the gold standard in terms of currency foundation. Often quoted by any number of commentators, vast numbers of Americans nevertheless never reacted one way or the other, not really understanding what Bryan was talking about.

"Remember the Maine!" This was a heading in all Hearst newspapers and described the (very odd) sinking of a U.S. cruiser in Havana harbour in 1898. This led to war between Spain and America, and included a very special charge up San Juan hill by a certain 'roughrider' who later became president.

And slogans still matter. In 2008, Barack Obama ran a successful campaign using the phrase "Yes, we can!" Unfortunately, the Tea Party bloc of the Republican Party countered with "No, you can't!" resulting in the current trials and tribulations affecting America. 

My favourite slogan, however, was John Kennedy's cry of support in the city of Berlin during the Cold War, "Ich bin ein Berliner!" This was wonderful to behold, even if his New England accent caused the phrase to alter somewhat in meaning to give "I am a doughnut!"

But as far as Berliners were concerned, this mattered not a whit, ensuring as well that the phrase would linger long in memory.

As well it should.

This Just In

This week, three items startled, along with one truly tragic, the Alpine crash. I restrict my comments to the three that startled, rather than the fourth, an item that is beyond comprehension. At least mine -- I have been depressed as well, but felt no need to fly an airplane into a mountain.

1) This Just In --- Yemen. What startles here is not more violence in the Middle East, something all too common as various sects and tribes battle it out to promote their version of an imaginary entity, but rather doing so without really involving The Great Satan, the United States of America. Saudi Arabia (Sunni) is now openly confronting Iran (Shia) in Yemen, and neither country, aside from the odd Iranian snarl, is blaming the U.S.A. 

Food for thought.

2) This Just In --- The Wynne Government in Ontario continues to act like a deer caught in the headlights. In the Auditor General\'s 2014 Report it notes that more than 21,000 patients were supposedly given the same flu shot vaccination by both a physician and a pharmacist, with the Ministry of Health billed twice.

Then the problem was compounded by the establishment of a registry to  address the overbilling problem, but the registry itself went $85 million over budget, and the mismanagement continues to this day. (Ms Wynne is preoccupied with sexual education in schools). Ain't life under the Liberals grand?

3) This Just In --- I note that the English King, Richard III (a man in my opinion more sinned against than sinning) has finally received a proper burial. Thus his battlefield wish has now been fulfilled: "A hearse! A hearse! My kingdom for a hearse!"*

And on that note, I depart. See you next week.

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* That one slipped by me. The item should never have seen daylight, but I was distracted at the time, being involved in a Twitter exchange with Amal Clooney regarding Value At Risk as it applies to international law and arms trafficking. My apologies. --Ed.

Aboriginal Advance: A Two-Act Play

What follows is not my usual somewhat satirical approach to life in the 21st century, but rather an issue that has bothered me for some time.

I have written before on the sorry state of First Nations peoples in Canada, with the leitmotif in such annals being that most of the tragedies seen on reserves are self-inflicted. I am now prepared to alter that opinion.

Somewhat.

I say somewhat in that the legislation governing the reserves where most treaty Aboriginals live, The Indian Act, sets out the parameters that tend to force certain aspects of Aboriginal life. These parameters govern the location of the reserve, the federal monies sent to the chiefs  to allow for food and clothing purchases for the members of the band and the dispersal of funds for education, housing and infrastructure purposes.

It is immediately apparent, or should be, that under the leadership of a wise and accomplished chief, this system works rather well. Unfortunately, that is all too often not the case. Of late, the well-publicized behaviour of certain chiefs illustrate case after case of aggrandizement, well-looked after cronies, and in some instances, outright theft. Such behaviour, of course, violates the intent and spirit of The Indian Act, BUT NOT ITS LEGALITY.

Hence the need for change, and I am glad to report that it is coming in the form of two legislative Acts, to wit:

Bill C-428, The Indian Act Amendment and Replacement Act, legislation that received royal assent on December 17, 2014. This law does not repeal The Indian Act (unfortunate) but it does call for its eventual replacement. Moreover, it removes provisions regarding residential schools and necessitates the publication of all band bylaws, a major advance in terms of transparency.

A second step was the passage of the First Nations Financial Transparency Act. It received royal assent in March, 2013, and requires band governments to post audited financial statements and salaries of chief and councillors on a public website. This, needless to say, caused howls of outrage from a few chiefs, happily ignored by the Canadian taxpayer.

I am first to admit these are but initial steps in which will be a long journey, but in terms of the terrible conditions on some reserves, these are steps worth taking.

I close with the latest example of why repealing The Indian Act must continue to be a priority. Dean Martin of the Shuswap First Nations BC averaged $536.000 per year over the last four years, all of it tax free, to conduct band business affairs for members, all 87 of them. When questioned about this, Martin replied that he was the leader of a nation of 87 people, and therefore the salary was justified. In comparison, Stephen Harper, who leads a nation of 35 million people, earned $327,000.

So Cicero: O tempora! O mores!*

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* The times! The customs! -- Ed.

Different Strokes For Different Folks --- NOT!

It is usually a Good Thing to honour and support differences. Such behaviour allows for experiencing something beyond one's usual routine, and as is well known, new experiences broaden the mind. Or so it was made clear to me at last Thursday's get-together at our pub, The Three Q's.*

Not so fast, I claimed, and went on to make a slightly different case, as follows.

I first admitted that Canada was perhaps ranked up near the top (if not at the very top) where our policy of multiculturalism allows for honouring a variety of differences in terms of religion, clothing and cultural practices. Indeed, there is wide acceptance of Sikh turbans, Jewish kippahs or Muslim hijabs. Such a policy, however was not a carte blanche to EXCEED Canada's constitution, particularly when that constitution affirms that everyone is equal before the law.

This last statement appears from time to time to be ignored by some, or possibly not understood. How else can you comprehend the actions of those who refuse to swear an oath of allegiance to the Queen as Canada's Head of State, or demand to cover their face under a niquab or even a burka while making a court appearance?

These are actions that can only be termed egregious, in that they flout the principle of being equal before the law. I say egregious, in that in all other instances such as attending a cultural event or participating in religious observance in church, mosque, synagogue or temple, such actions are not only acceptable, but actually encouraged.

Not the behaviour of too many other countries, I might add.

My answer to this issue? Indicate to the person or persons objecting to Canada's expectations in this regard that if they cannot accept Canada's law in this respect, then perhaps it would be best to seek residence in a country that does not have the Queen as the Head of State or would welcome the wearing of a niquab or a burka whenever one is in a public place.

In the former instance, North Korea is one country that lacks a constitutional monarch; in the latter instance, Saudi Arabia and Afghanistan come to mind.

In both cases, bye bye.

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* There were a number of requests on the Q's. These have been used in prior missives: Quips, Quibbles and Quaffs. My advice --- FOCUS! -- Ed.

Gotta Use Words When I Talk To You

Until we master telepathy, we are stuck with words as the main means of communication. Yes, a fist in the face says one thing, a pat on the back another, but such actions lack nuance, in that these actions restrict themselves to a limited meaning -- I really don't care for your behaviour in the first case, and (unless dealing with cystic fibrosis) a commendation in the second case.

Words can have a variety of meanings, and can operate in a variety of situations. In the examples that follow, I should like to illustrate just how multi-faceted words are.

First, words can be dangerous. In the case of the 'fist in the face' scenario quoted above, this action was almost certainly preceded by words that got out of hand. Thus the Irish adage, "Many a man's tongue broke his nose" although I prefer a similar insight provided by Dennis Thatcher: "Whales get killed only when they spout." Then there is Neal Stephenson's observation somewhere in his Baroque Trilogy that no man is precisely safe when talking to a woman. That particular observation, however, leads to a discussion that would stray a good distance from our purpose today. Another time, perhaps.....

Secondly, precision in the use of words is a necessity. Diplomats excepted, why use them at all if your meaning is not clear and helpful to your listener or reader? Otherwise, you land up with things such as the following:

"My mother always made it clear to my sister and me that women and men were equal --- if not more so."  This from Al Gore.

"It has never been like this and now is exactly the same again." The speaker? One Viktor Chernomyrdin, former ambassador to Ukraine. (Make of that what you will.) I could also cite numerous examples from George Bush the Younger, but have not. I don't shoot fish in a barrel.

Thirdly, it is unwise to mix metaphors. All this does is confuse the reader or listener, and unless that is your intent, don't do it. As examples, I turn to the master, the eighteenth century parliamentarian Sir Boyle Roche: "While I write this letter, I have a pistol in one hand and a sword in another." And then Sir Boyle outdoes himself: "Along the untrodden paths of the future, I can see the footprints of an unseen hand."

I am in awe.

Of course, there is a need for vocabulary to help things along. Or not, as we see in this example taken from a court record:

Q. "Were you present at the inception of the altercation?"

A. "No. But I was there when the fight started."

Finally, as I leave this field and missive, I leave you with this shining example of what government can do with words. Or, in this case, a word. Thus in Germany comes the name of a law to speed up approval for building roads. A noble aim. to be sure, and we get
Verkehrswegeplanungsbeschleunigungsgesetz.

Auf wiedersehen, alles!

Rules Rule

I am sure that everyone has tucked away somewhere in their psyche a set of rules to live by, or, if not, they should. In any event, and for no reason in particular, these are mine.

1)  Do No Harm

Now for a person who has been in what I term "The Trade", this may seem a bit odd, given the occasional need to employ the phrase 'terminate with extreme prejudice' every now and then. For justification, I turn to that symbol of sound medicine, Hippocrates, and his famous oath that he must not do harm.*

Yet Hippocrates himself felt no remorse in attacking disease, and neither do I. In this context, I consider members of such groups as Islamic State, Al Qaeda, Boko Haram and the like to be cancers on the body politic, particularly in the form of those most vulnerable, women and children. The removal of a cancerous tumour can save a life; the removal of a group of addled killers in the thrall of an imaginary figure leading them on can save an entire village. If I can play a small part in such elimination, I will.

2) Do Not Whine

Whining and bemoaning and bemoaning and...er....bemoaning is behaviour to be avoided whenever the urge strikes. It accomplishes nothing, puts you in the dumps, and irritates the hell out of those in your company. Stop it.

3) Stay Away From Grudges

Somewhat linked to #3, this is also pointless activity, and can wreak havoc on the psyche. Avoid at all costs, and keep in mind these words from comedian Buddy Hackett (whom I have drawn on before) "Never carry a grudge. While you're carrying a grudge, the other guy is out dancing."

4) Rely On Laughter

This is the balm of my entire existence. As Victor Borge well knew, "laughter is the shortest distance between two people." And there is an added bonus to this rule: you can never go wrong when you laugh at yourself.

5) Get As Much Happiness As You Can

No explanation necessary

And a final rule, learned from bitter experience: when travelling in the American south, never ever crush the mint in a julep.

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* The relevant portion of the Hippocratic oath that the good Lady is referring to is as follows, keeping in mind that my knowledge of ancient Greek is not all it should be: "As to the elimination of diseases, make a habit of two things --- to help, or at least, do no harm." -- Ed.

Irony Lives!

My little thesis for this week is that irony is getting a new life. To buttress this opinion, I offer the following examples.

1) Global Warming

The fact that the media is still using this term surprises. Few dispute the concept of climate change (climate is always changing) but if global warming is still occurring, it is news to anyone living in the Northern hemisphere. The Arctic climate, the polar vortex, the Siberian air mass, or whatever, WON'T GO AWAY.

Those that rejoice in this: Ski hill operators and polar bears.

Those unhappy with this turn of events: Al Gore and David Suzuki.

2) Better Living Through Technology

The irony here begins with the first workable version of an item of technology (a home computer, a mobile phone) that creates a great deal of satisfaction (and a great deal of money). Then the "better living" aspect all goes to ratshit. Future versions of the item become so intricate, so complicated, that if this is "better living", irony truly lives. Bah, humbug.

3) The Arab Spring

Little Tunisia excepted, this entire initiative has sprung back to the winter of the Islamic 9th century, now complete with modern and murderous weaponry. And the "spring" is spreading through such lovely groups as the Islamic State. Al Qaeda, Boko Haram, and a gazillion little off shoots, all bent on sharing the wonder of a kind and merciful imaginary friend. I can only trust that the hope-filled word "spring" has not been forever doomed to irony.

And would that the master of irony, O. Henry, agree? I suspect so. Wholeheartedly.

The Serengeti Analogy

First, a definition of 'analogy'. This is necessary or else the argument which follows will founder.

The O.E.D. defines the term thusly: "A resemblance of relations or attributes as a ground for reasoning." The term "resemblance" is key; we are not talking in terms of direct copies or clones, but rather are in the world of the "akin" -- something close to the original whose use is to better illustrate a point.

Given this, I should like for a moment to dip a toe into the crystal clear waters of algebra,* to wit: "an analogy to x would be y." Expanding this analogy, I would see x as the world of crazed Islamic jihadists, and y as the world viewed as the Serengeti National Park in Tanzania.

In these two worlds, dangers lurk. In terms of x, if one is careless, or gets too close to a jihadist herd, one is all too likely to meet a nasty fate involving being shot, hanged or (a favourite) beheaded. Oh, and if a woman, the possibility of being stoned to death becomes a grim reality.

In the world of y, Tennyson's line of nature being "red in tooth and claw" is first and foremost, particularly if you are a wildebeest.** The big cats -- the lion, the leopard, the cheetah -- are some distance from cute little Muffin who contentedly curls up on your sofa. Moreover, getting too close to a water buffalo or rhino is strongly not advised.

And there is the nub of the analogy in the phrase "getting too close." In the Serengeti, this makes perfect sense, and most everyone complies, realizing that you are not looked upon as a benefactor or well-wisher, but as something to be gored or trampled or, dare I say, lunch.***

In the world of x, this oddly does not appear to make the sense it does in the world of y. In both worlds, animals attack, with the clarification that in the Serengeti the animals are really animals while the jihadists are somewhat lower on the evolutionary scale, and should be classified as sub-human.

Yet far too many people, often with a willingness to help and bring relief to those suffering in the world of x, fall into the hands of the jihadists and come to ghastly ends. This would never happen in the world of y. One can but hope, however, that once x is viewed as being akin to y, people will stop "getting too close."

Unless, of course, you are in a capable army unit and armed to the teeth.

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*Algebra -- a term developed by Arabs before all too many of their "leaders" decided that education was a Western Satanic practice.

**Alfred Lord Tennyson, "In Memoriam".

*** Not all comply, given poachers profiting from the horrible trade in elephant ivory and rhino horn. China really has to get serious about moving into the twentieth century.

A Male / Female Unscientific Survey

The other day, on TV, I stumbled into a rather weird little survey on the just how powerful was a woman's prettiness on a man's attraction to her.  The survey was a segment on one of those shows featuring the glories of home decoration, the wonders of modern cookware, and how best to improve familial relations.

Now normally I would have fled the channel. I thought the survey question bordered on the ludicrous, but lingered to hear the result. The program I was much more interested in, a documentary on Bell's Theorem and quantum entanglement,* had a few minutes to go before being aired, and I already knew the result of the survey.

Or thought I did. Men fall for the pretty every time. This view was supported heavily by the (almost all female) audience.

Not so, came the answer.

The survey done by some Bureau of Statistics somewhere -- the show's host was a tad vague at this point -- indicated that some 70% of men looked for other attributes in women before  beauty.

When I thought about it, I realized that the discrepancy between the audience's results and those of the actual survey was not surprising. On these types of talk shows, men are often written off without any regard for their ability to suss out the qualities mentioned in the survey: intelligence, kindness, wit, and a good sense of humour.

Given the above, a woman with these qualities would be highly successful in the partnership milieu. Being pretty would help, but it wouldn't be the be all and end all. (Unless she were ten feet tall, came with two club feet, and possessed facial features equivalent to a relief map of Montenegro. Then, yes, perhaps all bets would be off.)

And if the survey's designer was not named in the TV show, I can give a sturdier prop to the survey's findings. Here I turn to Marcel Proust, who in one of his letters wrote, "Let us leave pretty women to men without imagination."

It is for insights like these that the good Marcel and his A La Recherche De Temps Perdu will remain a classic for a very, very long time.

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* Don't ask. Suffice it to say that Bell's Theorem was cited by Einstein as "Spooky action at a distance." If feeling brave, turn to Google. -- Ed.

It's Not Always Doom And Gloom

Looking over my last few posts, I was struck by a concentration on the negative. I then thought, well, enough of that, let's explore something more on the positive side, something that has nothing to do with crazed jihadists, tumbling economies, or the Wynne Government in Ontario. (The last two are not mutually exclusive).*

To serve as a foundation for what is to follow, I give you the following, taken from Niccolo Machiavelli's text, The Prince:

    "There is nothing more difficult to take in hand, more perilous
     to conduct, or more uncertain of success, than to take the lead
     in the introduction of a new order of things."

Using this statement as a rubric, I then researched a number of polls where Canadians had cited their two most esteemed and memorable figures. Many votes were given to Pierre Trudeau, Wilfred Laurier, Lester Pearson and of course, given the national sport, Bobby Orr and Wayne Gretzky. All fine and dandy, but these names didn't come close to the two top citations.

To wit: Tommy Douglas and Sir John A. Macdonald.

Sir John came in second, and was commended for his desire to found a country from coast to coast, using his steel will to cajole and persuade doubters and using steel rails to bring the new country together via the Canadian Pacific Railway. I also believe his rating was this high because of an awareness, however dimly felt, that without Macdonald's perseverance, there would not have been a Canada.**

In first place, and justifiably so, was Tommy Douglas, who fought for a government run, single-payer health plan in his province of Saskatchewan. He succeeded against tremendous opposition from Saskatchewan doctors, but our Tommy was well used to heavy opposition fire, being a committed socialist surrounded by a slew of laissez-faire political rivals.

He succeeded, and not long afterwards, the Prime Minister of Canada at that time*** created legislation that made Douglas' plan a national reality. Canadians have been grateful ever since and, it must be said, are the envy of their cousins south of the border.

There. I feel much better now.

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* The Ontario Liberal government continues to create shock and awe. As her entire financial edifice continues to crash and burn, Kathleen Wynne suddenly takes up the cause of sex education in elementary schools, up to and including definitions of when sexual activity is "consensual". I despair. -- L.S.S.

** Many commentated that it was a pity that Macdonald drank too much. My answer to that: so did everyone else. At that time, to drink the water could (and at times did) prove deadly. - L.S.S.

*** John Diefenbaker, in 1962. Diefenbaker was always conscious of what the electorate wanted, at least until the AVRO Arrow fiasco. -- Ed.

A Most Effective Weapon

Where tyranny is involved, the news these days is not great. Indeed, |thinking of this I can remember Lord Strunsky, my late husband's father, citing a rather dark time at the start of the Second World War. He would then imitate a famed BBC announcer's voice by stating "This is Alvar Liddell, bringing you news of fresh disasters."

And so it is today, what with the atrocities being committed by such as ISIS, Al-Qaeda, Boko Haram and the like, all in the name of a religion founded on mercy and compassion. Not only do these creatures border on the sub-human, they cannot even read the dictates prominent in their prime text, the Qur'an. All very sad.

The "warriors" of these sects want to be seen as invincible martyrs for the cause, and boast of their total fearlessness. This almost holds true, save for one thing that they really do fear.

The best example of that thing in my opinion can be seen in the policies of that paragon of Nazism, Adolph Hitler. One policy was a "hit list" of those he most wanted exterminated. If you expected expect that at the top of such a list would be Churchill and Roosevelt, along with Stalin (a late entry) you would be right.

But not at the very top.

There you would find the comedic pianist Victor Borge, who always referred to Hitler as "Herr Schickelburger, the inept house painter," and portrayed the great leader as a total clown, and not a very good one at that. 

Hitler, whose ego was way too large for his demented psyche, was enraged. He was also, retaining a tiny bit of sanity, conscious that if Borge's work ever became widespread, there was a serious danger that his insane approach to governance would be exposed, and he would lose most of his followers (save for the truly warped, such as Himmler, Goering et al.) Hundreds were given the task of rooting out Borge, and the man had to flee from Denmark to England for safety.

So it is with the Islamic jihadists. They were truly disturbed when the Paris satirical magazine Charlie Hebdo published a cartoon featuring Mohammed, and immediately attacked, killing as many employees as possible.

Then the whole thing blew up in their face, with millions around the world marching in protest of the killing and suddenly far more aware of the danger of giving any credence to such "warriors". Now they could be seen for what they were -- murderers in total fear of being mocked.

Unfortunately, this sad tale is likely to continue. It will be, I fear, some time before a host of mullahs and imams, joined by priests and rabbis, (and yes, the Pope) join with Voltaire and state "I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it."

Good To Be Back, And An Update.

I must confess that the "hiatus" referred to in my last post went on considerably longer than I expected. I had hoped my vorpel sword would be going snicker-snack* around the first or second of January. Events, however, intervened.

I think my sojourn in Tahiti with the Comte De Rienville was to blame. It was there I came down with what I suspect was beri-beri (otherwise known as the undertaker's disease)* although the physicians I consulted, both in Tahiti and France, thought otherwise. I heard, for instance, mumbles about such afflictions as dengue fever, bronchitis or even, hard to believe, mumps.

The latter I deem ridiculous. My cheeks did not swell, and I am as about as far from playing in the National Hockey League as you can get.

Whatever. The upshot of all this was that it became impossible to write coherent stuff. Verbs wanted to hurl themselves into the passive periphrastic when it wasn't called for, adjectives wanted to become adverbs, and the pluperfect tense was nowhere to be found.

Moreover, the desire to plunge a satiric knife into the minds of those who follow the orders of imaginary "friends" such as Allah or Mohammed to kill all those who disagree with their zeitgeist, well, this desire waned. If I didn't know before that I was ill, I did now.

Gradually, however, things began to right themselves, and I tentatively write this, hoping all remains in order. I think it does, and in future missives will try to adhere to a schedule of writing these posts on the Thursday or Friday of the week, so that it becomes a means of welcoming Saturday morning. 

That's the plan, anyway, and I haven't been completely out of it. I know this because je suis Charlie.

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*cf, Lewis Carroll's Alice In Wonderland. But you knew that already --- L.S.S.

** The use of that unfortunate phrase would appear to indicate that that The Lady is definitely on the mend. --- Ed

A Brief Hiatus

That time of year has arrived where I take a short Christmas break, but will return in early January. The Comte de Rienville has once again invited me and some of my progeny to his estate in Tahiti, and who could refuse such an offer?

There will , however, be a short side trip, in order to bring out of captivity a number of girls and women that were taken by the sub-humans known as the Islamic State.(IS) I have reviewed the plan, and believe it will succeed. My heart will be in the endeavour.
Females in such an IS environment do not stand a chance, and their situation is well described in a verse from the Talmud:

     "If a rock falls upon a jug, woe to the jug. If a jug falls
      upon a rock, woe to the jug."

Says it all, and I will report on this foray as well as other things of pitch and moment when I return in early January.

Keep on trucking, and may all readers enjoy a superb Christmas.
     

Generational Difference

"Come live with me, and be my love." So begins a short poem by Christopher Marlowe, and when I read this line, I immediately thought of its 21st century counterpoint: "Come live with me, and pay my rent."

I write this because it is becoming crystal clear that the generation following me will not be enjoying the opportunities and largesse that I did. Oh, there will always be a segment of society that does well, either through already being safely ensconced in the "haves", or equipped with the skills that society now demands (technological wizardry) or sheer blind luck vis-à-vis a lottery or an incredible day at the casino or the track.

For the rest, things will be tough. After all, according to a variety of economic studies, the coming generation will not match their parents in terms of wealth accrual. This has not happened for some time, hence the Marlowe update.

We must, however, take heart. Such generational disparity has occurred before, when society undergoes a massive economic shift. Think of the machines of the Industrial Revolution and the number of workers, particularly in agriculture, that they displaced. But eventually many of those workers discovered that they could run those machines, and (with some help from their friendly union) earn a living wage while doing so.

But what happens when machines run themselves, and continually improve their performance?

This is an area that a number of sound thinkers -- including Stephen Hawking --  are worried about: the idea that artificial intelligence will supersede our own, and we will then lose control over the whole shebang. Not so much a generational difference as a generational shutdown.

I am a bit more optimistic. I can envisage a world where machines look after providing the necessities of life, with no one required to do a stitch of work. To be sure, education would be a paramount priority, but such a world makes possible an hypothesis once put forward by Buckminster Fuller, upon which I conclude:

"The human race has to get back to what it was doing before some clown came along and said you have to work for a living."*

Food for thought.

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* Written in his short text, I Seem To Be A Verb. ---Ed.

Whither The Weather

I am somewhat behind my times, as Bob Cratchit once said, in that I spent the previous day with the Little Sisters Of Poverty And Pain, a group of nuns that I support in their charitable activities. I mean, there is faith, hope, and charity, and the greatest of these is charity.* In any event, I missed my writing time. These things happen, but I will stick to my John Wayne dictum: "Never apologize, pilgrim."

Now the good sisters take in a number of female refugees and women escaping from abusive situations, and I teach an English as a Second Language course to assist those who are having difficulty speaking the language. Things go very well at first, then the going gets rougher. As is known, English is an easy language to speak badly; it is an extremely difficult language to speak well.

A number of queries from my "students" focussed upon what to talk about that would be acceptable when they were part of a new group. I suggested they stay away from religion or politics, the two bugbears that have wrecked havoc upon society now and in the past. Rather, I recommended that they initially stick to that safest of all topics, the weather.

"Why?" asked one class member.

"Because," I replied, "no one really knows what weather is, and when precisely it will snow, rain, or whatever. Even meteorologists stumble all the time when predicting a weather event, and hence this topic presents a wonderful opportunity to say almost anything and never annoy the person or persons you are talking to. Which, when just getting to know people, is a very Good Thing."

"One could," ventured a class member, "talk of astronomy." (I recalled that one of the group was a physicist in her native country, but was now pushing a cash register at Costco.)

"One could," I replied, "but this can get a bit awkward if the person you are discussing parsecs with believes that the world is only 6000 years old, and that people were consorting with dinosaurs. Right away you would have made an enemy. For the time being, best to stick with the weather."

At this point the astronomer slipped into her native Italian, knowing I was fluent in what was my mother tongue. "Well," she said, "You are probably right. My professor at Turin once stated, I use her words, 'that it was never wise to provoke a person not ready to be provoked.' As a topic, then, the weather will be just fine."

I commended her professor, and concluded with my own astronomical observation:

"I exist!" the man cried to the Universe.

And the Universe replied, "Well, I'm sorry, but I don't feel any sense of obligation."

Enough. Or too much.

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* First Corinthians, 13:13. More recent readings of this verse have altered "charity" to "love", mis-translating "caritas". I suspect that the focus was shifted to being charitable to Holy Mother Church, not the other way round. -- L.S.S.