If I have any readers (perhaps I should end the sentence right there) with medical training, perhaps they could explain something about the Body Mass Index to me.
My first love was engineering, before I betrayed the true faith and went into sales. As an engineering student, I was taught that because there are three dimensions, mass is a cubic function, written as (weight / length^3) = k. If you increase or reduce the size of an object while maintaining the same proportions, just blowing up the blueprint, its weight varies as the cube of the change- for example, if you double the length of an object, you also double its height and depth, so its weight is (2^3), or eight times as much. This applies to everything, even complicated devices, because each part follows the same law. It even applies to animals- the way scientists can estimate the weight of a dinosaur is to have a veterinarian examine the bones and tell a sculptor the kind of musculature it must have had, and between them they make a model of the dinosaur… knowing that flesh has about the density of water, they then dunk the model in a tank to get its water weight, and use the formula above to size it up correctly.
Now we come to the Body Mass Index. The formula for that, gotten off the CDC website, is (weight / height^2)(703) = BMI. Notice that this is a squared function, not a cubic! This formula would have the weight of two near-twins, identical in every possible way except height, vary by the square of their height, rather than the cube, as all other masses in the universe do. I can’t figure out what there is about the human body that would have it obey separate physical laws. I even tried charting the weights and BMI of famous people to try and understand.
Knowing that whichever function was correct, the cube or the square, inherent in the math is the fact that they will be closest to true in the smaller numbers, so I started charting at only five feet tall. Using the BMI formula, “normal” for 60” tall is from 94 ¾ lbs to 127 ½- that seemed reasonable to me, so I used that as the set point for the cubic formula as well. I then ran both formulae to 72” tall. The BMI formula gives the low end of normal for six feet tall as 136 ½ lbs… that’s what the late Don Knotts weighed at 5’6”- would Barney Fife have looked normal stretched out to six foot tall?? The "cube of the difference" formula makes the lighter side of normal at six foot tall to be 163 ¾ instead. I started looking for even taller famous people. Two-time MVP of the NFL, Indianapolis’ own Peyton Manning, at 6’5” and 230 lbs, has a BMI of 27.27- well into the “fat” category! But if you use the “cube of the difference” formula, “normal” for that height would be from 200 to 269 lbs. Shaquille O’Neal, at 7’2” and 325 lbs. has a BMI of 30.89- morbidly obese! But the cubic formula would have him right in the center of the normal range of 278 – 375 lbs… which is where most of the 7-footers in the NBA fall.
My conclusion: both theory and observed anecdotal evidence tell me that the BMI formula is fatally flawed, and that the taller you are above five foot, the greater the error will be. If there is a doctor reading this, would you please explain where the flaw in my thinking is?
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query foot. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query foot. Sort by date Show all posts
Friday, April 07, 2006
Monday, October 23, 2006
I wonder
Our oldest cat, Laurie, has entered her winter depressive phase. She is the feral who chose to be a housecat when the universe betrayed her by turning cold and nasty . Every year, when the climate turns cold 24/7 instead of just the momentary burst of weather, she gets depressed and needy. She only goes out to potty, then dashes back in as if afraid she’ll be caught out there. She starts becoming very clingy, needing reassurance that we really love her, that we didn’t allow the weather to become nasty as a punishment.
It can get very trying being loved so intensely. She starts sleeping in the bed with us- not at the foot, but worming her way up to the pillows and trying to get full-body contact across my head, or climbing onto my chest. As she’s a two foot long kitty, 18 lbs., this means that I lose a lot of sleep during this period. I tell her, “Can’t you see what this is doing to me? I’m a zombie all day from lack of sleep. Yes, yes, I love you, but this is very annoying!”
Then suddenly I wonder if God ever feels that way.
It can get very trying being loved so intensely. She starts sleeping in the bed with us- not at the foot, but worming her way up to the pillows and trying to get full-body contact across my head, or climbing onto my chest. As she’s a two foot long kitty, 18 lbs., this means that I lose a lot of sleep during this period. I tell her, “Can’t you see what this is doing to me? I’m a zombie all day from lack of sleep. Yes, yes, I love you, but this is very annoying!”
Then suddenly I wonder if God ever feels that way.
Friday, January 01, 2010
2009 in science
A lot of discoveries were made in 2009. Here's a list of important discoveries that may seem counterintuitive, even wild or controversial, but I assure you that each was the result of diligent- often expensive- research by respected colleges and institutes, published in prestigious journals and peer reviewed:
1. High Heels Lead to Foot Pain
2. Men Much More Interested Than Women in Casual Sex
3. Children Are Affected When a Parent Suffers From Depression
4. Coed Dorms Fuel Sex and Drinking
5. Sweets Taste Better When You're High
6. G-Rated Children’s Films Are Very Straight
7. Eating Lots of Red Meat and Processed Meat Is Bad for You
8. Kids' TV Is Full of Ads for High-Fat and High-Sugar Foods
I find it gratifying that there are still scientists willing to tackle such hot potato issues, and more importantly, get the funding to do so. More details here
1. High Heels Lead to Foot Pain
2. Men Much More Interested Than Women in Casual Sex
3. Children Are Affected When a Parent Suffers From Depression
4. Coed Dorms Fuel Sex and Drinking
5. Sweets Taste Better When You're High
6. G-Rated Children’s Films Are Very Straight
7. Eating Lots of Red Meat and Processed Meat Is Bad for You
8. Kids' TV Is Full of Ads for High-Fat and High-Sugar Foods
I find it gratifying that there are still scientists willing to tackle such hot potato issues, and more importantly, get the funding to do so. More details here
Thursday, January 22, 2009
If you put your right foot in, you'll step in it
Who knew the Hokey Pokey had "malevolent meaning" in the British isles? "Michael Matheson, a Nationalist member of the Scottish Parliament, also issued a warning about The Hokey Cokey (as it's called in England) in December: "It is important that the police and football clubs are aware of the sinister background to this song..." Read more in the Canada.com article,
Canada’s Hokey Pokey cause of England dust up .
Canada’s Hokey Pokey cause of England dust up .
Monday, September 22, 2008
Simple answers to global warming
One of the biggest problems in dealing with any complex question is that many simple, common sense measures are dismissed because they are not a complex, comprehensive solution- a corollary of the axiom "the perfect is the enemy of the good enough". There are always people who, when your house is on fire, want to debate the root causes of house fires, and create blue ribbon panels to draft legislation about home building codes and materials- putting the fire out would be "too simplistic".
I have written here before about one such simple partial solution: giving tax breaks to encourage people to replace their black or dark colored roofs with white or light colored roofs. I have been talking about this program (and many other similar ones) since the days of the first gas crisis thirty years ago, when the issue was just saving energy. I've even put it on the internet before- when I was a guest on a radio show to discuss school vouchers , the host suggested before the show that I ought to put it on a website, and he would give out the address on the show; to flesh out the site, I included many of my other proposals, including some on passive solar energy .
Back then, when people wrote my proposals off as "too simplistic to have any real effect", I didn't have the resources to put numbers to it. But now some researchers have, and the numbers are even bigger than I had guessed. According to these stories from Science Magazine and The LA Times , replacing black roofs with white ones and replacing black asphalt roads with white concrete would offset 44 metric gigatons of greenhouse gases!
One of the best things about this proposal is that it can be done immediately, and we don't have to wait until it's finished to reap some benefits- even the smallest beginning will yield big results right away. "According to Hashem Akbari, a physicist with the Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory, a 1,000-square-foot roof -- the average size on an American home -- offsets 10 metric tons of planet-heating carbon dioxide emissions in the atmosphere if dark-colored shingles or coatings are replaced with white material."
Is this a solution in itself? No. But this, (any many other similar, easy programs) can have a huge effect, can be done immediately, and require no new scientific breakthroughs, no new research programs- it's all off the shelf stuff, using materials already in mass production. But will any of our politicians adopt them? No, they're too simplistic. They don't buy votes in wavering congressional districts. They don't result in new government plum jobs to hand out to supporters. They won't get your name put on a new government office building in your home district. Better to just keep debating Kyoto.
I have written here before about one such simple partial solution: giving tax breaks to encourage people to replace their black or dark colored roofs with white or light colored roofs. I have been talking about this program (and many other similar ones) since the days of the first gas crisis thirty years ago, when the issue was just saving energy. I've even put it on the internet before- when I was a guest on a radio show to discuss school vouchers , the host suggested before the show that I ought to put it on a website, and he would give out the address on the show; to flesh out the site, I included many of my other proposals, including some on passive solar energy .
Back then, when people wrote my proposals off as "too simplistic to have any real effect", I didn't have the resources to put numbers to it. But now some researchers have, and the numbers are even bigger than I had guessed. According to these stories from Science Magazine and The LA Times , replacing black roofs with white ones and replacing black asphalt roads with white concrete would offset 44 metric gigatons of greenhouse gases!
One of the best things about this proposal is that it can be done immediately, and we don't have to wait until it's finished to reap some benefits- even the smallest beginning will yield big results right away. "According to Hashem Akbari, a physicist with the Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory, a 1,000-square-foot roof -- the average size on an American home -- offsets 10 metric tons of planet-heating carbon dioxide emissions in the atmosphere if dark-colored shingles or coatings are replaced with white material."
Is this a solution in itself? No. But this, (any many other similar, easy programs) can have a huge effect, can be done immediately, and require no new scientific breakthroughs, no new research programs- it's all off the shelf stuff, using materials already in mass production. But will any of our politicians adopt them? No, they're too simplistic. They don't buy votes in wavering congressional districts. They don't result in new government plum jobs to hand out to supporters. They won't get your name put on a new government office building in your home district. Better to just keep debating Kyoto.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Perhaps these should be included in the Holiday displays
Babbo Natale, Italy has its own Father Christmas. But it's La Befana, the ugly, broom-flying and present-wielding witch who keeps children on their toes in many parts of the country...
Few European Christmas traditions elicit as many diverse and divergent opinions as Black Pete of the Netherlands. Santa's former slave may have been whitewashed in recent years, but many still view him as a racist caricature from the country's colonial past...
In Austria, Santa keeps track of who's been naughty and nice -- and unleases a 7-foot-tall horned devil on the naughty. He's called the Krampus, and he's unlike any Christmas tradition you've ever seen...
Some of the world's most curious Christmas traditions can be found in Catalonia, where the idea of holiday cheer seems to involve some of life's more basic bodily functions...
Read about these, and many more at Europe's weird ways
Few European Christmas traditions elicit as many diverse and divergent opinions as Black Pete of the Netherlands. Santa's former slave may have been whitewashed in recent years, but many still view him as a racist caricature from the country's colonial past...
In Austria, Santa keeps track of who's been naughty and nice -- and unleases a 7-foot-tall horned devil on the naughty. He's called the Krampus, and he's unlike any Christmas tradition you've ever seen...
Some of the world's most curious Christmas traditions can be found in Catalonia, where the idea of holiday cheer seems to involve some of life's more basic bodily functions...
Read about these, and many more at Europe's weird ways
Thursday, November 13, 2008
A curious incident on the stoop
This morning I opened the back door to get a breath of air, and to feel the temperature and sniff the air to check the likelihood of rain. (Yes, I have the weather gadget on my desktop, but it connects to the weather service and I don't trust meteorologists) I looked down and saw a robin standing there on the stoop not a foot in front of me, unmoving. I thought it must have died on its feet, but then I saw it blink- but it still didn't move, much less fly away.
Just then, our three younger cats rushed through my legs onto the stoop. I quickly said "Play nice!" (code language in our household to stop rumbles- they know the next step is the Dreaded Squirt Gun) They froze, in an interesting tableau- unmoving robin, seemingly oblivious to being surrounded by 40 lbs. of savage carnivores. I thought surely it must be paralyzed, but when Monica leaned in to sniff at it, it turned its head to face her. I quickly shooed the cats off the stoop, and the robin remained unmoved by my voice or their movements, like a feathered Bartleby who would prefer not to notice them.
"Great", I thought to myself with just a twinge of self pity, "It's dying on its feet, and I have to do something about it to prevent the kitties from playing badminton with it." I wrapped a plastic bag around my hand and bent over to pick it up- but when I touched it, it leaped through to railings and flew off, strong and fast, over the neighbor's house and out of sight.
Why didn't it move earlier, when it clearly was strong and coordinated enough to do so? Maybe it had no reason to fear me, but why didn't it show any fear of a clowder that had slaughtered so many of its peers? I don't know. Hell, I don't even know why my own species does the things it does.
Just then, our three younger cats rushed through my legs onto the stoop. I quickly said "Play nice!" (code language in our household to stop rumbles- they know the next step is the Dreaded Squirt Gun) They froze, in an interesting tableau- unmoving robin, seemingly oblivious to being surrounded by 40 lbs. of savage carnivores. I thought surely it must be paralyzed, but when Monica leaned in to sniff at it, it turned its head to face her. I quickly shooed the cats off the stoop, and the robin remained unmoved by my voice or their movements, like a feathered Bartleby who would prefer not to notice them.
"Great", I thought to myself with just a twinge of self pity, "It's dying on its feet, and I have to do something about it to prevent the kitties from playing badminton with it." I wrapped a plastic bag around my hand and bent over to pick it up- but when I touched it, it leaped through to railings and flew off, strong and fast, over the neighbor's house and out of sight.
Why didn't it move earlier, when it clearly was strong and coordinated enough to do so? Maybe it had no reason to fear me, but why didn't it show any fear of a clowder that had slaughtered so many of its peers? I don't know. Hell, I don't even know why my own species does the things it does.
Monday, March 08, 2010
Impeach Obama!
That was the centerpiece of the campaign K. Rogers ran in the Texas primary elections for the 22nd Congressional district. It was shouted from a sound truck, and posted on an 18 foot banner. During the campaign, Rogers denounced warnings of global warming as imperialist genocide, proclaimed that London banking interests are bent on ruining America's economy and accused Obama of “pissing on the legacy of President John F. Kennedy”
So what, you say? The Republican party is chockablock full of right wingnuts, especially in the south; what's one more racist teabagger? Well, there's more:
Rogers won the primary, and is now the party's candidate for Congress from the 22nd district.
Again, so what? As Peter Jennings famously said after Reagan's reelection, "The angry white male has had his little tantrum"- let the Republicans keep marginalizing themselves. Well, there's still more:
Kesha Rogers is an African American woman, and she won the Democratic party's nomination for Congress. Here is a news story about the election, and Ms. Roger's website. Note the campaign broadcasts on her website, with their cute "Down with the traitors" theme song.
My point? One more bit of evidence that it's time to stop blaming Republicans for the lack of progress. When you own the Presidency, both houses of Congress, a majority of Governorships, a majority of state congresses, a majority of big city mayors, and a majority of those city councils, it starts getting really old really fast when you keep blaming the other party for an inability to pass legislation or implement policies.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Why we love children...
I rarely post things that have been emailed to me, but these anecdotes are rather cute.
Why we love children...
1) NUDITY I was driving with my three young children one warm summer evening when a woman in the convertible ahead of us stood up and waved. She was stark naked! As I was reeling from the shock, I heard my 5-year-old shout from the back seat, 'Mom, that lady isn't wearing a seat belt!'
2) OPINIONS On the first day of school, a first-grader handed his teacher a note from his mother. The note read, 'The opinions expressed by this child are not necessarily those of his parents.'
3) KETCHUP A woman was trying hard to get the ketchup out of the jar. During her struggle the phone rang so she asked her 4-year-old daughter to answer the phone. 'Mommy can't come to the phone to talk to you right now. She's hitting the bottle.'
4) MORE NUDITY A little boy got lost at the YMCA and found himself in the women's locker room. When he was spotted, the room burst into shrieks, with ladies grabbing towels and running for cover. The little boy watched in amazement and then asked, 'What's the matter, haven't you ever seen a little boy before?'
5) POLICE # 1 While taking a routine vandalism report at an elementary school, I was interrupted by a little girl about 6 years old. Looking up and down at my uniform, she asked, 'Are you a cop? 'Yes,' I answered and continued writing the report. 'My mother said if I ever needed help I should ask the police. Is that right?' 'Yes, that's right,' I told her. 'Well, then,' she said as she extended her foot toward me, 'would you please tie my shoe?'
6) POLICE # 2 It was the end of the day when I parked my police van in front of the station. As I gathered my equipment, my K-9 partner, Jake, was barking, and I saw a little boy staring in at me. 'Is that a dog you got back there?' he asked. 'It sure is,' I replied puzzled. The boy looked at me and then towards the back of the van. Finally he said, 'What'd he do?'
7) ELDERLY While working for an organization that delivers lunches to elderly shut-ins, I used to take my 4-year-old daughter on my afternoon rounds. She was unfailingly intrigued by the various appliances of old age, particularly the canes, walkers and wheelchairs. One day I found her staring at a pair of false teeth soaking in a glass. As I braced myself for the inevitable barrage of questions, she merely turned and whispered, 'The tooth fairy will never believe this!'
8) DEATH While walking along the sidewalk in front of his church, our minister heard the intoning of a prayer that nearly made his collar wilt. Apparently, his 5-year-old son and his playmates had found a dead robin. Feeling that proper burial should be performed, they had secured a small box and cotton batting, then dug a hole and made ready for the disposal of the deceased. The minister's son was chosen to say the appropriate prayers and with sonorous dignity intoned his version of what he thought his father always said: 'Glory be unto the Faaather, and unto the Sonnn, and into the hole he goooes.' (I want this line used at my funeral!)
9) SCHOOL A little girl had just finished her first week of school. 'I'm just wasting my time,' she said to her mother. 'I can't read, I can't write, and they won't let me talk!'
10) BIBLE A little boy opened the big family Bible. He was fascinated as he fingered through the old pages. Suddenly, something fell out of the Bible. He picked up the object and looked at it. What he saw was an old leaf that had been pressed in between the pages. 'Mama, look what I found,' the boy called out. 'What have you got there, dear?' With astonishment in the young boy's voice, he answered, 'I think it's Adam's underwear!'
Why we love children...
1) NUDITY I was driving with my three young children one warm summer evening when a woman in the convertible ahead of us stood up and waved. She was stark naked! As I was reeling from the shock, I heard my 5-year-old shout from the back seat, 'Mom, that lady isn't wearing a seat belt!'
2) OPINIONS On the first day of school, a first-grader handed his teacher a note from his mother. The note read, 'The opinions expressed by this child are not necessarily those of his parents.'
3) KETCHUP A woman was trying hard to get the ketchup out of the jar. During her struggle the phone rang so she asked her 4-year-old daughter to answer the phone. 'Mommy can't come to the phone to talk to you right now. She's hitting the bottle.'
4) MORE NUDITY A little boy got lost at the YMCA and found himself in the women's locker room. When he was spotted, the room burst into shrieks, with ladies grabbing towels and running for cover. The little boy watched in amazement and then asked, 'What's the matter, haven't you ever seen a little boy before?'
5) POLICE # 1 While taking a routine vandalism report at an elementary school, I was interrupted by a little girl about 6 years old. Looking up and down at my uniform, she asked, 'Are you a cop? 'Yes,' I answered and continued writing the report. 'My mother said if I ever needed help I should ask the police. Is that right?' 'Yes, that's right,' I told her. 'Well, then,' she said as she extended her foot toward me, 'would you please tie my shoe?'
6) POLICE # 2 It was the end of the day when I parked my police van in front of the station. As I gathered my equipment, my K-9 partner, Jake, was barking, and I saw a little boy staring in at me. 'Is that a dog you got back there?' he asked. 'It sure is,' I replied puzzled. The boy looked at me and then towards the back of the van. Finally he said, 'What'd he do?'
7) ELDERLY While working for an organization that delivers lunches to elderly shut-ins, I used to take my 4-year-old daughter on my afternoon rounds. She was unfailingly intrigued by the various appliances of old age, particularly the canes, walkers and wheelchairs. One day I found her staring at a pair of false teeth soaking in a glass. As I braced myself for the inevitable barrage of questions, she merely turned and whispered, 'The tooth fairy will never believe this!'
8) DEATH While walking along the sidewalk in front of his church, our minister heard the intoning of a prayer that nearly made his collar wilt. Apparently, his 5-year-old son and his playmates had found a dead robin. Feeling that proper burial should be performed, they had secured a small box and cotton batting, then dug a hole and made ready for the disposal of the deceased. The minister's son was chosen to say the appropriate prayers and with sonorous dignity intoned his version of what he thought his father always said: 'Glory be unto the Faaather, and unto the Sonnn, and into the hole he goooes.' (I want this line used at my funeral!)
9) SCHOOL A little girl had just finished her first week of school. 'I'm just wasting my time,' she said to her mother. 'I can't read, I can't write, and they won't let me talk!'
10) BIBLE A little boy opened the big family Bible. He was fascinated as he fingered through the old pages. Suddenly, something fell out of the Bible. He picked up the object and looked at it. What he saw was an old leaf that had been pressed in between the pages. 'Mama, look what I found,' the boy called out. 'What have you got there, dear?' With astonishment in the young boy's voice, he answered, 'I think it's Adam's underwear!'
Saturday, March 05, 2011
UU, Alzheimer's, and politics
"Plaidshoes" really struck a chord with me with her Tuesday post, Tired of Defense. If you haven't read it, you must- and read the comments also. I was caught from the beginning, "I had a bit of a disturbing parking lot conversation today. I mentioned to a friend that I had seen her friend at my UU church. I thought of it as a positive. Another way that the world is so small that we all seem to run into each other. Well, my friend stated that she was not happy about this. It caught me completely by surprise. She flat out said it like that. I asked her why, and she stated that it would mean her friend was no longer a Christian." It reminded me of my wedding- and my mother.
That may sound strange to you- if it does, the explanation will be stranger still, but it's true. You see, in the months before my wedding there had been disagreement among we four brothers about our mother. She had been deteriorating of recent months, and several doctors had said she had Alzheimer's. We were split, 2-2, on whether she really had Alzheimer's, or whether this was one of her manipulative schemes. (Fred Sanford was a rank amateur in the manipulation business) The question was settled when she came to my wedding- at All Souls Unitarian Universalist Church. Everyone agreed that she had to be genuinely out of it to set foot inside the temple of the Antichrist.
So I understand plaidshoes' irritation at her friend's comment, and why she feels tired of being on the defense. In fact, I have an extra layer she does not- a political one. When I joined All Souls, a friend of mine had said, "I thought you were a Republican." I said yes, I was. His puzzled reply: "But you know they're a communist front organization, don't you?" Mind you, he wasn't trying to be derogatory or insulting; he was simply stating common knowledge- just as plaidshoes' friend had.
Both of these misunderstandings raise a question that plaidshoes does not address in her post: Why did her friend think that UU was not a religion? It would be easy enough to blame Mad Magazine, The Simpsons, Garrison Keillor, but none of their jibes would have stuck had there not been a kernel of truth in them. That's why stereotypes stick- Scandinavians really are often blonde; they really do eat lutefisk. If you tried to create a new stereotype that didn't reflect what people see in their daily lives- oh, like all Scandinavians eat grits and collard greens- it wouldn't stick, and people wouldn't repeat it. So clearly, the general public doesn't see us doing the things that a religion does; the question is, are we just poorly communicating what we do, or is their perception better than ours?
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
8 random things meme
I was tagged by Earthbound Spirit for the “8 random facts about myself” meme- so here goes. Those tagged are supposed to post this first:
1. We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.
2. Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.
I’m going to violate rules 4 & 5; most of those I’d have tagged have already posted, and if we go by powers of eight, we’ll have tagged the known universe by Thursday. So anyway...
1. I have no talent for languages whatsoever. I had a year of Spanish in grade school, and never learned more than how to say “My name is...”- and have forgotten even that. I had three years of French, actually visited France several times, brushing up before each visit, and attend my wife’s Alliance Francaise club meetings, and still can do little more than order dinner or follow French television news. Oh, and I was also able to follow French coverage of a Colts game, (they were playing “les tetes de fromage”) and “Pimp My Ride” in French, but that’s about it.
2. Possibly related to the above, I have never been able to master a musical instrument, nor read music, despite my love of music. (There was a time when I would have sold my soul to be able to sing like Chuck Negron or Harry Nilson) In grade school I was able to memorize the finger positions on the recorder corresponding to written notes, but was never able to read music and hum the tune- I just seem to have some kind of mental block in those arenas. Does anyone know if music and language skills are related?
3. I was born in the same year that “Rock Around The Clock”- the beginning of rock and Roll, according to historians- was released; Rock and I have grown up together.
4. I have the unusual artistic talent of being able to convert photographs into line drawings for easy reproduction using just a ballpoint pen. I used to pick up cigarette and beer money doing that for newsletters, etc., before computers and improved photocopiers rendered that skill obsolete.
5. Because I’m fat, I have very few lines and wrinkles; I fear that as I lose weight, I’ll appear to age suddenly. Which is kind of funny, as I’d never considered myself vain before.
6. Despite being a six-foot male natural born Hoosier, I’ve never really liked basketball, watching or playing. If you know anything about Indiana, you’ll know how suspect- possibly even treasonous- that is.
7. I continually surprise myself discovering how much my tastes- in food, art, everything- have changed over the years. Yes, that’s a standard observation- I remember a comedian talking about this, saying, “...for example, when I was a kid, I hated being spanked.” I guess the real surprise is finding out that cliches apply to me, too- i used to think myself unique. Which is probably another cliche.
8. One cliche that doesn’t apply- I love my in-laws, including (especially) my mother in law, whom I don’t see as often as I’d like because she lives on the other side of the continent. I also love my in-laws who live only half a continent away, in various parts of the west, which realistically is no easier to get to despite technically being closer. An extended family reunion would rack up enough frequent-flier miles to earn a trip into space on Virgin Galactic.
Tag: Anyone who has never participated in a meme before!
1. We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.
2. Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.
I’m going to violate rules 4 & 5; most of those I’d have tagged have already posted, and if we go by powers of eight, we’ll have tagged the known universe by Thursday. So anyway...
1. I have no talent for languages whatsoever. I had a year of Spanish in grade school, and never learned more than how to say “My name is...”- and have forgotten even that. I had three years of French, actually visited France several times, brushing up before each visit, and attend my wife’s Alliance Francaise club meetings, and still can do little more than order dinner or follow French television news. Oh, and I was also able to follow French coverage of a Colts game, (they were playing “les tetes de fromage”) and “Pimp My Ride” in French, but that’s about it.
2. Possibly related to the above, I have never been able to master a musical instrument, nor read music, despite my love of music. (There was a time when I would have sold my soul to be able to sing like Chuck Negron or Harry Nilson) In grade school I was able to memorize the finger positions on the recorder corresponding to written notes, but was never able to read music and hum the tune- I just seem to have some kind of mental block in those arenas. Does anyone know if music and language skills are related?
3. I was born in the same year that “Rock Around The Clock”- the beginning of rock and Roll, according to historians- was released; Rock and I have grown up together.
4. I have the unusual artistic talent of being able to convert photographs into line drawings for easy reproduction using just a ballpoint pen. I used to pick up cigarette and beer money doing that for newsletters, etc., before computers and improved photocopiers rendered that skill obsolete.
5. Because I’m fat, I have very few lines and wrinkles; I fear that as I lose weight, I’ll appear to age suddenly. Which is kind of funny, as I’d never considered myself vain before.
6. Despite being a six-foot male natural born Hoosier, I’ve never really liked basketball, watching or playing. If you know anything about Indiana, you’ll know how suspect- possibly even treasonous- that is.
7. I continually surprise myself discovering how much my tastes- in food, art, everything- have changed over the years. Yes, that’s a standard observation- I remember a comedian talking about this, saying, “...for example, when I was a kid, I hated being spanked.” I guess the real surprise is finding out that cliches apply to me, too- i used to think myself unique. Which is probably another cliche.
8. One cliche that doesn’t apply- I love my in-laws, including (especially) my mother in law, whom I don’t see as often as I’d like because she lives on the other side of the continent. I also love my in-laws who live only half a continent away, in various parts of the west, which realistically is no easier to get to despite technically being closer. An extended family reunion would rack up enough frequent-flier miles to earn a trip into space on Virgin Galactic.
Tag: Anyone who has never participated in a meme before!
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Reconcile yourself to these truths about healthcare
(part two of two about the healthcare debate)
A great deal of the heat in the healthcare debate could be avoided if both sides would accept some simple truths, and talk about how to deal with them instead of denying them.
1. Some sort of healthcare reform bill will pass. Too many political egos and reputations are at stake, and too many voters feel it has been promised to them for it to fail. Opponents see themselves as Gandalf, saying "You shall not pass!"- but a more realistic image is that of King Canute. Spend your energies trying to get a compromise on an acceptable bill instead.
2. Stop railing against "public option" or government healthcare; we already have it- and no, I don't mean Medicaid, Medicare, etc. As was mentioned in part one , indigents receive free care from hospitals that accept government money (which is virtually all of them), and the hospitals add the cost to everybody else's bill. I suppose in some semantic sense you can claim this isn't government healthcare because your check didn't go to the IRS; but still, he got the care by government fiat, and you paid for it. In any real sense, the only difference between that and the British NHS is that they are more intellectually honest about it.
3. Stop claiming that real healthcare reform can be budget-neutral. There's not enough slop in the system that any real, improve-quality-of-life type improvements can be made by just tweaking here and there. Real programs will have to be created, real checks cut, and it will cost real money. Everybody on both sides knows this, you're not fooling anyone. Oh, you're going to claim it can be done with savings? Well...
4. Preventative care does not save money; it costs money. Preventative care is all about increasing both lifespan and quality of life for the individual, but it costs society more than merely reactive care. This is counterintuitive- we can see that it's much cheaper to catch a disease before it develops than to treat it afterwards... but what you're not seeing is that for it to work, you have to test/treat everybody- most of whom would never have caught the disease in the first place. From an article by Charles Krauthammer "Think of it this way. Assume that a screening test for disease X costs $500 and finding it early averts $10,000 of costly treatment at a later stage. Are you saving money? Well, if one in 10 of those who are screened tests positive, society is saving $5,000. But if only one in 100 would get that disease, society is shelling out $40,000 more than it would without the preventive care.
That's a hypothetical case. What's the real-life actuality in the United States today? A study in the journal Circulation found that for cardiovascular diseases and diabetes, "if all the recommended prevention activities were applied with 100 percent success," the prevention would cost almost 10 times as much as the savings, increasing the country's total medical bill by 162 percent. Elmendorf additionally cites a definitive assessment in the New England Journal of Medicine that reviewed hundreds of studies on preventive care and found that more than 80 percent of preventive measures added to medical costs."
5. We're not going to see significant savings through reduced overhead by government offices over private ones. If you're thinking of eliminating profits, you should realize that the profit margins are quite low- sure, a few CEO become gazillionaires off it, but compared to the total costs of doing business with 300,000,000 Americans it's insignificant. Those costs of business include tons of paperwork, which must be filled out no matter who is paying for it... and have you ever known the government to reduce the amount of paperwork required?
6. Tort reform must be part of the final package. Malpractice insurance is a big part of the cost of medicine today- for some disciplines, the cost is so high that doctors are leaving those specialties in droves. This would be of benefit to all of society, not merely medicine. We all have our favorite gawdawful lawsuit story; mine is a local one, a local manufacturer of riding mowers that was sued by a man who lost his foot to one. The facts were not in dispute; the mower did have built in interlocks that stopped the mower when the rider left the seat, but this guy bypassed the safety by carrying a cinderblock in his lap- when he saw a can or bottle in the grass, he would stand up, putting the cinderblock in the seat to fool the mower, and jump off to kick the can out of the way, jumping back on with no time lost to stopping. One day he slipped while kicking. His claim was that the manufacturer was liable, because that was a foreseeable event, and they should have figured out a more sophisticated safety he couldn't bypass. In any rational society, the judge wouldn't even use the gavel as he dismissed the case; he'd lean over and bitch-slap him.
A great deal of the heat in the healthcare debate could be avoided if both sides would accept some simple truths, and talk about how to deal with them instead of denying them.
1. Some sort of healthcare reform bill will pass. Too many political egos and reputations are at stake, and too many voters feel it has been promised to them for it to fail. Opponents see themselves as Gandalf, saying "You shall not pass!"- but a more realistic image is that of King Canute. Spend your energies trying to get a compromise on an acceptable bill instead.
2. Stop railing against "public option" or government healthcare; we already have it- and no, I don't mean Medicaid, Medicare, etc. As was mentioned in part one , indigents receive free care from hospitals that accept government money (which is virtually all of them), and the hospitals add the cost to everybody else's bill. I suppose in some semantic sense you can claim this isn't government healthcare because your check didn't go to the IRS; but still, he got the care by government fiat, and you paid for it. In any real sense, the only difference between that and the British NHS is that they are more intellectually honest about it.
3. Stop claiming that real healthcare reform can be budget-neutral. There's not enough slop in the system that any real, improve-quality-of-life type improvements can be made by just tweaking here and there. Real programs will have to be created, real checks cut, and it will cost real money. Everybody on both sides knows this, you're not fooling anyone. Oh, you're going to claim it can be done with savings? Well...
4. Preventative care does not save money; it costs money. Preventative care is all about increasing both lifespan and quality of life for the individual, but it costs society more than merely reactive care. This is counterintuitive- we can see that it's much cheaper to catch a disease before it develops than to treat it afterwards... but what you're not seeing is that for it to work, you have to test/treat everybody- most of whom would never have caught the disease in the first place. From an article by Charles Krauthammer "Think of it this way. Assume that a screening test for disease X costs $500 and finding it early averts $10,000 of costly treatment at a later stage. Are you saving money? Well, if one in 10 of those who are screened tests positive, society is saving $5,000. But if only one in 100 would get that disease, society is shelling out $40,000 more than it would without the preventive care.
That's a hypothetical case. What's the real-life actuality in the United States today? A study in the journal Circulation found that for cardiovascular diseases and diabetes, "if all the recommended prevention activities were applied with 100 percent success," the prevention would cost almost 10 times as much as the savings, increasing the country's total medical bill by 162 percent. Elmendorf additionally cites a definitive assessment in the New England Journal of Medicine that reviewed hundreds of studies on preventive care and found that more than 80 percent of preventive measures added to medical costs."
5. We're not going to see significant savings through reduced overhead by government offices over private ones. If you're thinking of eliminating profits, you should realize that the profit margins are quite low- sure, a few CEO become gazillionaires off it, but compared to the total costs of doing business with 300,000,000 Americans it's insignificant. Those costs of business include tons of paperwork, which must be filled out no matter who is paying for it... and have you ever known the government to reduce the amount of paperwork required?
6. Tort reform must be part of the final package. Malpractice insurance is a big part of the cost of medicine today- for some disciplines, the cost is so high that doctors are leaving those specialties in droves. This would be of benefit to all of society, not merely medicine. We all have our favorite gawdawful lawsuit story; mine is a local one, a local manufacturer of riding mowers that was sued by a man who lost his foot to one. The facts were not in dispute; the mower did have built in interlocks that stopped the mower when the rider left the seat, but this guy bypassed the safety by carrying a cinderblock in his lap- when he saw a can or bottle in the grass, he would stand up, putting the cinderblock in the seat to fool the mower, and jump off to kick the can out of the way, jumping back on with no time lost to stopping. One day he slipped while kicking. His claim was that the manufacturer was liable, because that was a foreseeable event, and they should have figured out a more sophisticated safety he couldn't bypass. In any rational society, the judge wouldn't even use the gavel as he dismissed the case; he'd lean over and bitch-slap him.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Facing my demons
I haven't made an entry in a while because I've been rather busy- traveling in Italy! We've found a lot of fascinating things traveling together- me, my wife, Ginger, and her mother (who I love), Marcia- but it was on a solo side trip that I found the most fascinating and terrifying experience of the trip so far.
We were in Florence, and a must-see on my list (but nobody else's) was the interior details of Dell Duomo. It's not that I'm a major fan of cathedrals, but this one has a very famous dome- huge, masterpiece painted on the inside, and the world's first example of the "dome within a dome" construction technique later used on our own capitol. Most important of all, you're allowed to climb to the top, within the walls, between the domes, to see the construction techniques all the way to the cupola on top, from where you can see nearly all of Tuscany.
I was slightly apprehensive about the climb, 463 vertical steps, but finally told myself, "So what if you're slow- let 'em go around!" As it happened, the kids did squeeze around me, at first, (at the landings, the stairs themselves were far too narrow for passing- in many places my shoulders touched on either side) After a few hundred steps, however, I was no longer being overtaken, my endurance had outlasted their youthful speed.
When we got up to the base of the dome, the path turned from inside the walls to inside the base of the dome itself- you could look up and see the magnificent paintings overhead, look down and see the marble floors hundreds of feet below. At this point I should mention that I have what other people call a fear of heights, and what I call a fear of falling. The distinction is not a silly one; if I feel secure, I can easily look into the abyss, height makes no difference. I can look out the window of an airplane without fear... but a five foot precepice with no railing can make me nervous. It's purely a question of how secure I feel, not how secure I really am.
This walkway, while high enough to thoroughly squick me out, was solid stone, part of the church; I was able to work my way around to the far side of the dome where it re-entered the wall. From there one climbs another seemingly endless spiral of stairs until one reaches a T intersection: straight to the cupola and observation deck, turn to exit.
Suddenly, I was afraid... I had a good idea why one had to turn to exit. I put it off for a while, but eventually one must exit. There was no question of going back the way I came, even if it were permitted, the tightness of the fit would have meant forcing everyone back down with me. Telling myself, "How bad could it possibly be?", I stepped through the archway labeled "Exit" that I knew would lead me back inside the dome.
It could be bad indeed. This time, the walkway was near the very top of the dome, even with the paintings, this time, the walkway was so narrow that not only did I have to turn sideways to fit, but suck it in, too- my butt pressed against the wall and my lower belly against the railing. A few steps, and some projection on the wall popped a suspender buckle off my pants in back; another step and something in front caught the top button of my pants. I slid my hand down between pants and railing and looked down to see what had caught me.
Here's a funny thing I didn't know about domes: when you're inside one like I was, not on the bottom looking up, it's very disorienting- there's nothing to differentiate "Wall" from "Ceiling"... and when I looked down, my perspective shifted and I was suddenly on the ceiling, looking straight down at the floor 463 steps below, with nothing but a stuck waist button to keep me from falling.
My eyes snapped shut, my head snapped back. I chewed on my tongue to prevent the scream that I knew would never stop if I permitted it to start. Tasting blood, I turned my head left (the direction I had to go) and opened my eyes, hoping to find a focal point to prevent me from looking in other directions. I found my self looking at the portion of the painting that depicts Hell. Well, more specifically at a sinner some demon had speared in the back, the poor guy's arms and legs splayed in agony. OK, to be more precise, I was staring at what this poor sinner, were he a Chuck Berry fan, would call "My Ding-a-ling". As stupid and childish as it sounds, I was able to get control of myself by focusing on a 600 year old painting of a wang.
I was able to start moving again. As I did, my eyes slid to the next figure in Hell- a woman this time. And I noticed something. (I had been anxious to notive something, to occupy my mind) The thing I noticed was that the agonies of Hell had caused her legs to come together, rather than splaying apart as the male sinner's had. This observation created a game to occupy my mind, to keep me from thinking of you know what. As my eyes slid from scene to scene, I noted how male nudity was handled differently from female nudity, and kept a running total of wangs / to whats (say it quickly). When I reached the safety of the stairs down, the count was 11-0.
When I rejoined Ginj and Marcia at the Galleria Dell Accademia, I resumed the count; by the time we left for dinner it was 73-2. Contemplating that count prevented me from having any nightmares.
Now you know how twisted I really am.
We were in Florence, and a must-see on my list (but nobody else's) was the interior details of Dell Duomo. It's not that I'm a major fan of cathedrals, but this one has a very famous dome- huge, masterpiece painted on the inside, and the world's first example of the "dome within a dome" construction technique later used on our own capitol. Most important of all, you're allowed to climb to the top, within the walls, between the domes, to see the construction techniques all the way to the cupola on top, from where you can see nearly all of Tuscany.
I was slightly apprehensive about the climb, 463 vertical steps, but finally told myself, "So what if you're slow- let 'em go around!" As it happened, the kids did squeeze around me, at first, (at the landings, the stairs themselves were far too narrow for passing- in many places my shoulders touched on either side) After a few hundred steps, however, I was no longer being overtaken, my endurance had outlasted their youthful speed.
When we got up to the base of the dome, the path turned from inside the walls to inside the base of the dome itself- you could look up and see the magnificent paintings overhead, look down and see the marble floors hundreds of feet below. At this point I should mention that I have what other people call a fear of heights, and what I call a fear of falling. The distinction is not a silly one; if I feel secure, I can easily look into the abyss, height makes no difference. I can look out the window of an airplane without fear... but a five foot precepice with no railing can make me nervous. It's purely a question of how secure I feel, not how secure I really am.
This walkway, while high enough to thoroughly squick me out, was solid stone, part of the church; I was able to work my way around to the far side of the dome where it re-entered the wall. From there one climbs another seemingly endless spiral of stairs until one reaches a T intersection: straight to the cupola and observation deck, turn to exit.
Suddenly, I was afraid... I had a good idea why one had to turn to exit. I put it off for a while, but eventually one must exit. There was no question of going back the way I came, even if it were permitted, the tightness of the fit would have meant forcing everyone back down with me. Telling myself, "How bad could it possibly be?", I stepped through the archway labeled "Exit" that I knew would lead me back inside the dome.
It could be bad indeed. This time, the walkway was near the very top of the dome, even with the paintings, this time, the walkway was so narrow that not only did I have to turn sideways to fit, but suck it in, too- my butt pressed against the wall and my lower belly against the railing. A few steps, and some projection on the wall popped a suspender buckle off my pants in back; another step and something in front caught the top button of my pants. I slid my hand down between pants and railing and looked down to see what had caught me.
Here's a funny thing I didn't know about domes: when you're inside one like I was, not on the bottom looking up, it's very disorienting- there's nothing to differentiate "Wall" from "Ceiling"... and when I looked down, my perspective shifted and I was suddenly on the ceiling, looking straight down at the floor 463 steps below, with nothing but a stuck waist button to keep me from falling.
My eyes snapped shut, my head snapped back. I chewed on my tongue to prevent the scream that I knew would never stop if I permitted it to start. Tasting blood, I turned my head left (the direction I had to go) and opened my eyes, hoping to find a focal point to prevent me from looking in other directions. I found my self looking at the portion of the painting that depicts Hell. Well, more specifically at a sinner some demon had speared in the back, the poor guy's arms and legs splayed in agony. OK, to be more precise, I was staring at what this poor sinner, were he a Chuck Berry fan, would call "My Ding-a-ling". As stupid and childish as it sounds, I was able to get control of myself by focusing on a 600 year old painting of a wang.
I was able to start moving again. As I did, my eyes slid to the next figure in Hell- a woman this time. And I noticed something. (I had been anxious to notive something, to occupy my mind) The thing I noticed was that the agonies of Hell had caused her legs to come together, rather than splaying apart as the male sinner's had. This observation created a game to occupy my mind, to keep me from thinking of you know what. As my eyes slid from scene to scene, I noted how male nudity was handled differently from female nudity, and kept a running total of wangs / to whats (say it quickly). When I reached the safety of the stairs down, the count was 11-0.
When I rejoined Ginj and Marcia at the Galleria Dell Accademia, I resumed the count; by the time we left for dinner it was 73-2. Contemplating that count prevented me from having any nightmares.
Now you know how twisted I really am.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Glad for a name change
Years ago when Indianapolis formally changed the name of our World‘s largest Christmas tree to “The Circle of Lights”, ( another view ), many were upset. But after seeing what SeaTac airport has just gone through, I’m glad we acted early to “secularize” the event... could you imagine trying to put up a 284 foot tall, 4,784 light Menorah along side the “Circle of Lights”? Of course, as a Pagan, I’m perfectly happy with a tree...
P.S. the pressures of family events may prevent me from posting again until after Christmas- but this is a good thing. Merry Christmas!
P.P.S. As “Christmas” is a Federal holiday, that was a secular salutation. :)
P.S. the pressures of family events may prevent me from posting again until after Christmas- but this is a good thing. Merry Christmas!
P.P.S. As “Christmas” is a Federal holiday, that was a secular salutation. :)
Monday, September 11, 2006
Update to 9/11 conspiracies
On this fifth anniversary of the World Trade Center attack, the talk shows are still full of the conspiracy theorists. Although I have tackled the subject before, CUUMBAYA: 9/11 Conspiracies I thought I would take one more stab at getting those who still believe in those conspiracies to see reason.
The central issue is “Would the buildings really have collapsed in the manner we all witnessed?” All else hinges on this; if the buildings really were brought down by the aircraft that hit them rather than by demolition charges, all the other silly claims fall like the buildings themselves did. As all the explanations as to why they couldn’t have been brought down in the manner explained by the 9/11 commission are based on misunderstandings of physics and construction techniques, I thought I’d try to explain it in lay terms. Disclaimer: I am not a working engineer, but I did start in engineering at Purdue before changing to another trade- I feel that may be an advantage as unlike a graduate engineer, I still speak English rather than technobabble.
Most materials are much stronger under tension (pulling on it, like a rope) or compression (just what it sounds like) than any other type of stress. For example, an arrow is strong enough under compression to punch all the way through a large animal like a deer- but has so little strength under a bending load that you can easily bend and break it with your bare hands. In fact, the impact energy that arrow shaft withstands is probably greater than your weight, unless you’re as fat as I am. So could we use an arrow as the shaft of a bar stool?
No- because that arrow is only so strong when all the forces acting on it are perfectly aligned along the shaft, as in flight. In fact, even then if it doesn’t hit straight, it will shatter- ask any bow hunter. There is no possibility that you could sit on it without causing it to bend, which will cause it to shatter. Suppose we were to use a dozen arrow shafts, spaced evenly, so that the stool resembles a bird cage, making it twelve times as strong- would that work? No- strength wasn’t the issue in the first place; bending was. Each of those twelve shafts would be just as likely to bend and break as a single shaft would; there is nothing to prevent this flexing. Now suppose we put several shelves inside the birdcage, rigidly attached to the arrow shafts- they are no longer permitted to flex or bend, and we now have an enormously strong, lightweight stool. This is how the Trade Center towers were built.
Suppose while you’re sitting on the stool somebody kicks it and breaks some of those shafts- does your stool break in half and fall over to the broken side? No- because those rigid shelves prevent the shafts from bending, so the force is distributed to the remaining shafts... but the stress on them is enormous. Now break one of those shelves- what happens? The remaining shafts will instantly shatter at the point where they are now allowed to flex- it will happen so fast that your butt will still be centered over the base. There is simply no time for the weight to fall over sideways; the shafts will go with explosive force and you’ll fall vertically.
There is actually an experiment you can do at home to demonstrate this phenomenon; it requires an empty beer can and two pencils. Stand the can up on end, kneel down, and place one foot on the can. You can put quite a bit of weight on it- in fact, if you use two people (one to steady the other) the can will support the weight of a small adult... as long as that weight is PERFECTLY centered. Now reach down with the pencils and poke both sides of the can. (we poke both sides so that the metal will bend rather than pushing the can sideways) The can will instantly collapse, completely vertically, leaving a flat disk! This is also, by the way, what happened to the plane that struck the Pentagon, and why there is such a small hole- an airplane is a nearly empty hollow aluminum tube, just like that beer can, 99% air.
But back to the building. I can hear the conspiracy nuts now- “Yes, yes, I get it- the floors of the Tower were like the shelves in your bar stool; once one or two went, the structural members shattered and the towers dropped vertically... but it’s a scientific fact that jet fuel does not burn hot enough to have melted those floors! get around that one, smart guy!” Never- with the possible exception of Paris Hilton’s attempt to prove herself an actress- has so much bandwidth been spent trying to prove a non-issue. Nobody ever claimed the floors melted! Metal begins to loose strength at temperatures far below their melting point; jet fuel burns at a temperature high enough to weaken structural steel by nearly half- but the real damage was done by temperatures even lower than that. Hot metal expands- look at any steel highway bridge and you’ll find it sits on rollers or pivots, to allow for several inches of expansion; you’ll also find expansion joints where the steel meets the road, and in-between two steel sections... and that’s just for a hot summer day! At hundreds of degrees, those floors would have expanded a couple feet or more, and probably twisted and bowed as well- instead of preventing the structural shafts from flexing, they were introducing flex where none had been before, while simultaneously those structural members were carrying a greater load than they had been designed for. Of course they went bang- the forces concentrated on those points were greater than the energy contained in the demolition charges normally used to raze a building.
“But look at the cleanup,” the conspiracy nuts say, “weeks later, girders pulled from the hole were still cherry-red and dripping! Jet fuel couldn’t have burned hot enough for them to still be cherry weeks later; it must have been thermite charges used to melt the floors!” As I said before, the jet fuel didn’t melt the floors; in fact, it would have burned itself out within minutes- the fuel merely served as lighter fluid. And yes, thermite could have melted the girders- but a thermite charge burns out in seconds, perhaps minutes if it were a really big one. For the steel to still be hot weeks later merely proves that the fire was still raging under the rubble! Those building were filled with things that are not normally particularly flammable, but if adequately fueled would have burned long and hot- and adequate fuel there was in abundance. The many lower levels of the building contained many machines with flammable fuels and greases; large gas and diesel tanks for emergency generators; natural gas lines- and, of course, a hundred stories of carpets, paneling, and furniture. There are coal-mine fires that burned for decades underground, and a used tire fire burned for nine months - these fires are nothing in comparison.
So come on, people, do a little research before you call the talk shows or write your chicken-little blogs or- God save the mark!- teach a college class . The Dixie Chicks are embarrassed that Bush is from Texas? I’m embarrassed that a third of my countrymen can swallow a camel of a conspiracy theory and strain at a gnat of logic.
The central issue is “Would the buildings really have collapsed in the manner we all witnessed?” All else hinges on this; if the buildings really were brought down by the aircraft that hit them rather than by demolition charges, all the other silly claims fall like the buildings themselves did. As all the explanations as to why they couldn’t have been brought down in the manner explained by the 9/11 commission are based on misunderstandings of physics and construction techniques, I thought I’d try to explain it in lay terms. Disclaimer: I am not a working engineer, but I did start in engineering at Purdue before changing to another trade- I feel that may be an advantage as unlike a graduate engineer, I still speak English rather than technobabble.
Most materials are much stronger under tension (pulling on it, like a rope) or compression (just what it sounds like) than any other type of stress. For example, an arrow is strong enough under compression to punch all the way through a large animal like a deer- but has so little strength under a bending load that you can easily bend and break it with your bare hands. In fact, the impact energy that arrow shaft withstands is probably greater than your weight, unless you’re as fat as I am. So could we use an arrow as the shaft of a bar stool?
No- because that arrow is only so strong when all the forces acting on it are perfectly aligned along the shaft, as in flight. In fact, even then if it doesn’t hit straight, it will shatter- ask any bow hunter. There is no possibility that you could sit on it without causing it to bend, which will cause it to shatter. Suppose we were to use a dozen arrow shafts, spaced evenly, so that the stool resembles a bird cage, making it twelve times as strong- would that work? No- strength wasn’t the issue in the first place; bending was. Each of those twelve shafts would be just as likely to bend and break as a single shaft would; there is nothing to prevent this flexing. Now suppose we put several shelves inside the birdcage, rigidly attached to the arrow shafts- they are no longer permitted to flex or bend, and we now have an enormously strong, lightweight stool. This is how the Trade Center towers were built.
Suppose while you’re sitting on the stool somebody kicks it and breaks some of those shafts- does your stool break in half and fall over to the broken side? No- because those rigid shelves prevent the shafts from bending, so the force is distributed to the remaining shafts... but the stress on them is enormous. Now break one of those shelves- what happens? The remaining shafts will instantly shatter at the point where they are now allowed to flex- it will happen so fast that your butt will still be centered over the base. There is simply no time for the weight to fall over sideways; the shafts will go with explosive force and you’ll fall vertically.
There is actually an experiment you can do at home to demonstrate this phenomenon; it requires an empty beer can and two pencils. Stand the can up on end, kneel down, and place one foot on the can. You can put quite a bit of weight on it- in fact, if you use two people (one to steady the other) the can will support the weight of a small adult... as long as that weight is PERFECTLY centered. Now reach down with the pencils and poke both sides of the can. (we poke both sides so that the metal will bend rather than pushing the can sideways) The can will instantly collapse, completely vertically, leaving a flat disk! This is also, by the way, what happened to the plane that struck the Pentagon, and why there is such a small hole- an airplane is a nearly empty hollow aluminum tube, just like that beer can, 99% air.
But back to the building. I can hear the conspiracy nuts now- “Yes, yes, I get it- the floors of the Tower were like the shelves in your bar stool; once one or two went, the structural members shattered and the towers dropped vertically... but it’s a scientific fact that jet fuel does not burn hot enough to have melted those floors! get around that one, smart guy!” Never- with the possible exception of Paris Hilton’s attempt to prove herself an actress- has so much bandwidth been spent trying to prove a non-issue. Nobody ever claimed the floors melted! Metal begins to loose strength at temperatures far below their melting point; jet fuel burns at a temperature high enough to weaken structural steel by nearly half- but the real damage was done by temperatures even lower than that. Hot metal expands- look at any steel highway bridge and you’ll find it sits on rollers or pivots, to allow for several inches of expansion; you’ll also find expansion joints where the steel meets the road, and in-between two steel sections... and that’s just for a hot summer day! At hundreds of degrees, those floors would have expanded a couple feet or more, and probably twisted and bowed as well- instead of preventing the structural shafts from flexing, they were introducing flex where none had been before, while simultaneously those structural members were carrying a greater load than they had been designed for. Of course they went bang- the forces concentrated on those points were greater than the energy contained in the demolition charges normally used to raze a building.
“But look at the cleanup,” the conspiracy nuts say, “weeks later, girders pulled from the hole were still cherry-red and dripping! Jet fuel couldn’t have burned hot enough for them to still be cherry weeks later; it must have been thermite charges used to melt the floors!” As I said before, the jet fuel didn’t melt the floors; in fact, it would have burned itself out within minutes- the fuel merely served as lighter fluid. And yes, thermite could have melted the girders- but a thermite charge burns out in seconds, perhaps minutes if it were a really big one. For the steel to still be hot weeks later merely proves that the fire was still raging under the rubble! Those building were filled with things that are not normally particularly flammable, but if adequately fueled would have burned long and hot- and adequate fuel there was in abundance. The many lower levels of the building contained many machines with flammable fuels and greases; large gas and diesel tanks for emergency generators; natural gas lines- and, of course, a hundred stories of carpets, paneling, and furniture. There are coal-mine fires that burned for decades underground, and a used tire fire burned for nine months - these fires are nothing in comparison.
So come on, people, do a little research before you call the talk shows or write your chicken-little blogs or- God save the mark!- teach a college class . The Dixie Chicks are embarrassed that Bush is from Texas? I’m embarrassed that a third of my countrymen can swallow a camel of a conspiracy theory and strain at a gnat of logic.
Sunday, February 12, 2006
Why I love UU
Those who remember my many forum posts and debates may well have gotten the impression that I have problems with UU. Well, it’s way past time to correct that impression. Fact is I do have problems with the UUA- but I love UU. To explain why, I must discuss what a religion is.
A religion is not what is stated in the dictionary: a set of beliefs. That is a creed; indeed, in some dictionaries the first definition of both words is identical... which would render one of them superfluous. A religion is also a way of life, a culture, a set of standards to live up to. Religion is the counselor of first choice, the arbiter between your mind and soul, your ego and id. A religion is what you live by. “The show must go on”- that is a religious statement. There was a beer commercial in which an instrument maker is lavishing attention on the inside of a guitar he’s building. His friend asks why he’s bothering- no one would ever know. The craftsman takes a swig of his beer and answers, “I will know.” That’s a religious statement. If you can’t prove it, but you know in your heart that it’s true, and are willing to change the way you live your life because of that knowledge, it is your religion.
Most religions come as a complete kit. There may be some work involved reading the texts, coming to understand your chosen religion, but it’s all there, in a neat package, ready to use. And in fact if your choice is one of the half dozen main stream religions, you don’t even have to do that much- merely growing up in the Western Hemisphere gives you a functional understanding purely by osmosis. If you need help, a near infinite amount is available instantly; if you can afford to wait, just sit there and help will literally knock on your door. But what happens if you can’t accept the whole set? What happens if you know, with an internal conviction that transcends rational argument, that parts of that kit are missing, or wrong?
Some leave the church. Some stay in their church for the camaraderie, while denying the basic precepts their comrades believe. Others will strike out on their own, trying to figure out what their religion, their creed, their code truly is- that was my path. I spent 20 years conducting my search alone, until I was invited to services at All Souls, Indianapolis. Just being inside a church again reminded me of what I had given up to be true to my internal vision- the fellowship that I had tried to fill my need for with social organizations. I braced myself for the parts of the creed and practices I couldn’t swallow, the ones that would drive me out of yet another church.
And I didn’t find them. I found a church with a covenant right there on the wall in foot-high letters that promised to assist me in my personal search for truth. I found a minister and DRE who lived up to the promise, with fascinating sermons (selling printed copies is a standard fundraiser) and intriguing extracurricular programs. I found printed materials and a long history of reference works as well. Yes, I also found old-line humanists with spittle-flying fulminations against “God-talk”... but I also found other members who would bring things in to church that they thought might interest me. I have since been to enough other congregations to know how lucky I was to find just what I needed at my first visit... but I also know that although many UU congregations would not have suited me, there is no possibility that any other denomination could have. And in the end, that is what I love about UU: whether it be despite or because of the abysmal leadership, it has enough looseness around the edges to allow a bunch of contrarian Hoosiers to create exactly the congregation I needed, the congregation no other denomination would tolerate. That alone is enough for me to love UU.
A religion is not what is stated in the dictionary: a set of beliefs. That is a creed; indeed, in some dictionaries the first definition of both words is identical... which would render one of them superfluous. A religion is also a way of life, a culture, a set of standards to live up to. Religion is the counselor of first choice, the arbiter between your mind and soul, your ego and id. A religion is what you live by. “The show must go on”- that is a religious statement. There was a beer commercial in which an instrument maker is lavishing attention on the inside of a guitar he’s building. His friend asks why he’s bothering- no one would ever know. The craftsman takes a swig of his beer and answers, “I will know.” That’s a religious statement. If you can’t prove it, but you know in your heart that it’s true, and are willing to change the way you live your life because of that knowledge, it is your religion.
Most religions come as a complete kit. There may be some work involved reading the texts, coming to understand your chosen religion, but it’s all there, in a neat package, ready to use. And in fact if your choice is one of the half dozen main stream religions, you don’t even have to do that much- merely growing up in the Western Hemisphere gives you a functional understanding purely by osmosis. If you need help, a near infinite amount is available instantly; if you can afford to wait, just sit there and help will literally knock on your door. But what happens if you can’t accept the whole set? What happens if you know, with an internal conviction that transcends rational argument, that parts of that kit are missing, or wrong?
Some leave the church. Some stay in their church for the camaraderie, while denying the basic precepts their comrades believe. Others will strike out on their own, trying to figure out what their religion, their creed, their code truly is- that was my path. I spent 20 years conducting my search alone, until I was invited to services at All Souls, Indianapolis. Just being inside a church again reminded me of what I had given up to be true to my internal vision- the fellowship that I had tried to fill my need for with social organizations. I braced myself for the parts of the creed and practices I couldn’t swallow, the ones that would drive me out of yet another church.
And I didn’t find them. I found a church with a covenant right there on the wall in foot-high letters that promised to assist me in my personal search for truth. I found a minister and DRE who lived up to the promise, with fascinating sermons (selling printed copies is a standard fundraiser) and intriguing extracurricular programs. I found printed materials and a long history of reference works as well. Yes, I also found old-line humanists with spittle-flying fulminations against “God-talk”... but I also found other members who would bring things in to church that they thought might interest me. I have since been to enough other congregations to know how lucky I was to find just what I needed at my first visit... but I also know that although many UU congregations would not have suited me, there is no possibility that any other denomination could have. And in the end, that is what I love about UU: whether it be despite or because of the abysmal leadership, it has enough looseness around the edges to allow a bunch of contrarian Hoosiers to create exactly the congregation I needed, the congregation no other denomination would tolerate. That alone is enough for me to love UU.
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Instant empathy
One of the strange things about my childhood is that I did not grow and mature proportionately- my feet in particular. By the time I was twelve, I was still only 5'2", but I had size 14EEE feet. My dad, who nearly had to take a second job just to buy me shoes, used to say I'd be seven foot tall if they hadn't turned so much under to walk on, and I learned about Hobbits at an earlier age than usual. That being the case, I felt an instant surge of empathy when I saw this picture .
P.S. Before you ask, big feet only indicate a good sense of balance.
P.S. Before you ask, big feet only indicate a good sense of balance.
Tuesday, November 01, 2011
Captive Samhain
I apologise to those readers I still have for neglecting my blog, but I've been in prison the last few months. Several prisons, in fact, including the Womans prison... as a member of the Indianapolis Pagan Prison Ministry, created by the inimitable Colleen Kelly I lead a Wiccan group at the Indianapolis ReEntry Education Facility, and both a Wiccan group and an Asatru group at New Castle Correctional, an hour's drive away.
It's a fascinating and rewarding experience... and humbling, to learn how little I truly know. Luckily for me, they're usually happy with the answer, "I don't know- but I'll find out!" And it's equally fascinating to learn about them... on one hand, it's often easy to see why they're there, even though I don't know a thing about the particulars. ("What did you do" is a verboten question, by both rule and custom) Nonetheless, you can often see things; the poor reading skills of some, the impulse control of some, the attitudes of some- as one told me, "I used to be epically selfish." But for many, you won't have a clue how they wound up there- a momentary lapse of judgement, perhaps.
But they know. And that's why they called for us. They're trying to put their lives back together, trying to learn how to fit into society again- and for some reason, the church of the childhood has failed them. Or they might have deliberately chosen a Pagan path for another reason- as one told me, "I finally figured out that I was the reason I'm here. Not my parents, or society, or ony of those other things. Me. My choices. And suddenly, Christianity didn't fit any more. This is my responsibility; I can't pass it off on someone else, not even on Jesus Christ." And so he chose a religion that reflected his sense of responsibility.
But I've learned a lot about bureaucracy, too. Even when the chaplains are sympathetic- and at New castle, they called us- there is still a lot of hoops to jump through, Tees to dot and I's to cross. And then there's the guards and administration, who naturally have different concerns than the chaplains do, and may or may not be communicating all that well. The Samhain feasts Monday were an excellent example.
Their rule require them to provide a feast for the Pagans on certain holidays, Samhain being chief among them for the Wiccans- and while the Blot is a lesser one for the Asatru, well, it's still a feast, isn't it?- you take em when you can. But... we have the biggest Pagan groups in the state at New Castle; it's difficult logistically to accomodate sometimes, with a hundred Wiccans and around thirty Asatru. So three cornered talks involving chaplains, caterers, and guards became quite a dance.
First there was the issue of Samhain being on a Monday, not my normally scheduled days. I assured them that I was willing to show up on a non-scheduled day for the Samhain ritual. Then I guess there was concern about enough physical space for the two groups, so they then made it two different days for the two groups- I agreed again, and they were appreciative of my being willing to make the hour's drive three times in one week. And then the administration and the caterer wanted them to do them both on the same day after all, that day being Monday the 31st. The Asatru would be at 11:30-1:00; the Wiccans from 12:30-2:00. Some overlap, but fine. That was the state of things as of last regular service the week before.
So Monday, when I arrived at 11:00, (always early, after the debacle of my first visit when they couldn't find the gate release), I found no preparations had yet been made. I inquired, and they called for some trustees to come and set everything up. While this is happening, I notice the appt board has both groups listed for 11:30-1:00! I ask if that's correct, and am told yes, it is- is that a problem? Well, of course it is, as I hate being cut in and out of a sacred circle, but I say, "We'll cope." Then it's 11:30, and no prisoners. 11:35. 11:40. I ask where the prisoners are, and am told they can't be called out until the morning count is over. "We've been meeting at 11:30 for months, with no count issues- is today different for some reason?" "I'll check" I'm told.
About 12:00, prisoners start arriving, and we're able to start formalities by about 12:10- but not the ritual feast, which hasn't arrived yet. Then another hang up- one of the leaders of the Wiccans was in lock up and we're told that all the ritual materials are listed as his, and cannot be released even to me. So the prisoner group leaders say, "Listen up! We need ritual materials- I know you guys must have some bits and pieces, let's see what we have!" I volunteer my cane for a ritual staff; one of the trustee types runs out and returns a moment later with a Styrofoam "chalice". Somebody's needle point becomes an altar cloth, and someone else's fancy painted pentacle becomes an altar tile... a combination pen/ letter-opener becomes an Athame, etc... within just a couple minutes, we had a complete improv ritual set going.
By this time, about 12:20, the feast arrives, and the Styrofoam trays are stacked in back while ritual is opening. I leave the circle and go through the partition door to check out the Asatru... The Asatru had all arrived by then, and were ready to start- perfect timing. They opened their ritual circle, and started the remembrances ritual. I ask to go first, as I had to check on the Wiccans, and they agree with good humor. I say my remembrance for my father in law, Phil, who I had been missing recently. "Hail Phil!" They shout, and I slip out, kinda fogged up, and slip back into the Wiccan circle- they, too, are doing memorials at this point, and the raw emotion displayed by hulking, tatooed monsters is very touching. By now I'm feeling like I have a foot in three worlds; to paraphrase Jim Morrison, there are the sacred Wiccan circles, the sacred Asatru circle, and between them are the Doors- and me! I tell them that I may say this only once a year, or maybe never say the words aloud again... but there's nowhere on Earth I'd rather have feasted than here. And I meant it.
At about 12:55 several of the prisoners asked if I could ask that a restroom be opened for them. I go ask the chaplain. He says, "That's not really necessary, is it? It's supposed to be over at 1:00." "Even though the prisoners didn't get here until after 12:00, and the food, 12:30, instead of the scheduled 11:30?" "What?!?" (he hadn't been told of the hold ups) He starts talking scheduling with a trustee; after a few minutes of debate he agrees to ask a guard to open a restroom, and will allow the feast to continue for a few more minutes.
Quite a day. Despite fate's attempts to monkey wrench it, services continue to improve, and yesterday's Samhain was the most touching I have seen in a long time. Thank you, Colleen, for getting me involved.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
One last time...
I had intended to let this matter drop, but since I have been addressed directly by Rev. Sean , I'll take one more stab at what I meant.
There's an old joke that rewritten for this situation might help explain how I see it. There's a long line at the Bureau of Motor Vehicles, and people are starting to grumble. A conservative says, "Typical government inefficiency- they should contract this out to private enterprise." A liberal says, "Typical of this miserly administration- they should raise taxes on the rich and hire more clerks." A Unitarian Universalist says, "They're just stalling to avoid waiting on the black man in line- typical of our oppressive society."
Any of their theories might be true. Or maybe the Bureau is having computer problems. Maybe someone is sick, and they're shorthanded. Maybe it isn't the clerk's fault at all- the people in line don't have their paperwork in order. It doesn't really matter what the truth is. All three of the complainers, with no objective basis for their opinion, using only their predisposition to believe certain things, have constructed a scenario that "obviously must be true". This is what the author of "This is your nation on white privilege" did.
He took ordinary political hypocrisies, (some of which weren't even true, but that's beside the point), rewrote them as racial hypocrisies, then criticized the nation for what were, after all, his own assumptions. Example: "White privilege is when you can claim that being mayor of a town smaller than most medium-sized colleges, and then Governor of a state with about the same number of people as the lower fifth of the island of Manhattan, makes you ready to potentially be president, and people don’t all piss on themselves with laughter,..." Four years ago, Howard Dean ran as Governor of Vermont- a state with a smaller population than Alaska, much smaller in fact than the city of Indianapolis- and a much smaller Gross State Product than Alaska. He had no political experience prior to his election as Lt. Governor, (He became Governor when Richard Snelling died in office); not even as Mayor of a small town- not even as community organizer. Not only did people not piss themselves laughing, he was the early front-runner. There is no objective basis for the charge of "white privilege".
The Eclectic Cleric did much the same thing. He set up a series of hypothetical situations, presumed to know what our reactions to them would be, then presumed to know the motivation for those presumed reactions, then said "This is what racism does." Doesn't anyone see anything wrong with that?
Of course, all the hypotheticals of both authors exist only to set up their basic assumption: the only reason that Senator Obama isn't 20 points ahead is racism. That's possible, of course- but what is the objective reason for believing so? As I pointed out in my previous post , Senator Obama is polling as well as or better than every other Presidential candidate has in the last twenty years at this point in the cycle. There's simply no discrepancy to explain away.
Rev. Sean doesn't accept that answer. "And sorry Joel, “Other elections were close too” is NOT a logical argument. It’s possible that if Obama were a white man the polls would be showing a landslide in his favor. We’ll never know." He's right- we'll never know. But since we don't know, why are you assuming that an unknowable possibility is more logical than a known history? It's also possible that if Senator Obama were a white man, he'd have lost the primaries in a landslide and Senator Clinton would be the nominee. We'll never know.
Rev. Sean also said, "See, there is one huge fallacy in Joel’s response: He argues that pointing out systemic racism is itself an act of hatred. He thinks uncovering and talking about racism is the same as “an ugly desire to see the worst in the other side.”" He has two fallacies of his own there. The first is that his "quote" is not my words. But more importantly, he has the concept wrong. I applaud pointing out systemic racism. What I object to is inventing systemic racism when there's no objective reason to believe that it's an important factor in a given situation. I object to assuming that a given situation must exist, and then when it doesn't, assuming without evidence that the reason for the discrepancy is not a flaw in your own logic, but rather a flaw in other people's character. I do believe that you must have a deep contempt for your fellow man to believe that the reason half of them disagree with you is racism.
Rev. Sean also says, "Neither of the essays accused people of racism. They did, however, look at some of the ways systemic racism (the preference for white folks over black that is built into our culture and systems) may be affecting the election." That is sheer sophistry. This whole discussion is about why Senator Obama isn't as far ahead as his supporters think he should be. Well, cultures and systems don't answer pollsters. Cultures and systems don't vote. Oppressive laws and corporate practices don't vote. People do. It's not possible to blame racism for poll results without accusing the people who answered those pollsters of racism.
Nobody is arguing that racism isn't a pervasive problem. Although they do argue about whether it's "white privilege" or "class privilege", no one is arguing that unearned privilege isn't an obstacle to raising people out of poverty. Racism is a factor. But it is A factor, not THE factor. I believe that today- not in the days of slavery, not in the days of lynching and Jim crow, but in 2008- there are other "isms" of equal and even greater importance.
Sexism: Does anyone seriously doubt that sexism- and the cover-up of the Edwards affair- is the reason Senator Clinton isn't the nominee? Polls showed that even in the deep south, men preferred a black man to a white woman in the White House- and an amazing number of women agreed. Women have always ridden in the caboose of the civil rights train. I remember hearing Gene Roddenberry, creator of Star Trek, say at a convention that he got more complaints over Lt. Uhura, a woman, giving orders to men than he got over having Capt. Kirk being court-martialed by a black admiral.
Lookism: I could never be elected to a position much higher than City Council because I'm fat. Despite being an overweight nation, it's been nearly a century since we've had a portly President. Even Governors have to be slim- you can count on one hand the number of overweight governors there've been since the invention of television. People simply won't vote for a fat person unless they know them personally. You have to be tall, too- there have only been a couple Presidents under six foot tall in the history of the United states, and none in the last hundred years. President Bush stands unique in the modern era for having defeated a taller man. And these qualities are very nearly as important in the corporate world as the political. People who go above and beyond in the recruiting of minorities still have no problem with telling fat jokes, and hiring, firing, and promoting by weight.
Able-ism: there has never been a candidate from either party with a widely known handicap (Roosevelt and Kennedy concealed their infirmities) except for John McCain and Bob Dole- and they're special cases in that their ailments were received in the process of becoming war heroes. Even so, they can still get around on their own in public. I don't believe we'll ever see a wheelchair in the oval office, because medical science will develop cures and life-like powered exoskeletons faster than the public will get over this prejudice.
CORRECTION: The Eclectic Cleric is not the author of the quotes I mistakenly attributed to him; they were emailed to him, and he just posted it. The authors:
Mary M. Gaylord
Sosland Family Professor of Romance Languages andLiteratures
Director of Undergraduate Studies
Undergraduate Adviser for Romance Studies
424 Boylston Hall, Harvard YardCambridge MA 02138
Jane R. Dickie
Professor of Psychology and Women's Studies.
Hope College.
Holland, MI 49423
There's an old joke that rewritten for this situation might help explain how I see it. There's a long line at the Bureau of Motor Vehicles, and people are starting to grumble. A conservative says, "Typical government inefficiency- they should contract this out to private enterprise." A liberal says, "Typical of this miserly administration- they should raise taxes on the rich and hire more clerks." A Unitarian Universalist says, "They're just stalling to avoid waiting on the black man in line- typical of our oppressive society."
Any of their theories might be true. Or maybe the Bureau is having computer problems. Maybe someone is sick, and they're shorthanded. Maybe it isn't the clerk's fault at all- the people in line don't have their paperwork in order. It doesn't really matter what the truth is. All three of the complainers, with no objective basis for their opinion, using only their predisposition to believe certain things, have constructed a scenario that "obviously must be true". This is what the author of "This is your nation on white privilege" did.
He took ordinary political hypocrisies, (some of which weren't even true, but that's beside the point), rewrote them as racial hypocrisies, then criticized the nation for what were, after all, his own assumptions. Example: "White privilege is when you can claim that being mayor of a town smaller than most medium-sized colleges, and then Governor of a state with about the same number of people as the lower fifth of the island of Manhattan, makes you ready to potentially be president, and people don’t all piss on themselves with laughter,..." Four years ago, Howard Dean ran as Governor of Vermont- a state with a smaller population than Alaska, much smaller in fact than the city of Indianapolis- and a much smaller Gross State Product than Alaska. He had no political experience prior to his election as Lt. Governor, (He became Governor when Richard Snelling died in office); not even as Mayor of a small town- not even as community organizer. Not only did people not piss themselves laughing, he was the early front-runner. There is no objective basis for the charge of "white privilege".
The Eclectic Cleric did much the same thing. He set up a series of hypothetical situations, presumed to know what our reactions to them would be, then presumed to know the motivation for those presumed reactions, then said "This is what racism does." Doesn't anyone see anything wrong with that?
Of course, all the hypotheticals of both authors exist only to set up their basic assumption: the only reason that Senator Obama isn't 20 points ahead is racism. That's possible, of course- but what is the objective reason for believing so? As I pointed out in my previous post , Senator Obama is polling as well as or better than every other Presidential candidate has in the last twenty years at this point in the cycle. There's simply no discrepancy to explain away.
Rev. Sean doesn't accept that answer. "And sorry Joel, “Other elections were close too” is NOT a logical argument. It’s possible that if Obama were a white man the polls would be showing a landslide in his favor. We’ll never know." He's right- we'll never know. But since we don't know, why are you assuming that an unknowable possibility is more logical than a known history? It's also possible that if Senator Obama were a white man, he'd have lost the primaries in a landslide and Senator Clinton would be the nominee. We'll never know.
Rev. Sean also said, "See, there is one huge fallacy in Joel’s response: He argues that pointing out systemic racism is itself an act of hatred. He thinks uncovering and talking about racism is the same as “an ugly desire to see the worst in the other side.”" He has two fallacies of his own there. The first is that his "quote" is not my words. But more importantly, he has the concept wrong. I applaud pointing out systemic racism. What I object to is inventing systemic racism when there's no objective reason to believe that it's an important factor in a given situation. I object to assuming that a given situation must exist, and then when it doesn't, assuming without evidence that the reason for the discrepancy is not a flaw in your own logic, but rather a flaw in other people's character. I do believe that you must have a deep contempt for your fellow man to believe that the reason half of them disagree with you is racism.
Rev. Sean also says, "Neither of the essays accused people of racism. They did, however, look at some of the ways systemic racism (the preference for white folks over black that is built into our culture and systems) may be affecting the election." That is sheer sophistry. This whole discussion is about why Senator Obama isn't as far ahead as his supporters think he should be. Well, cultures and systems don't answer pollsters. Cultures and systems don't vote. Oppressive laws and corporate practices don't vote. People do. It's not possible to blame racism for poll results without accusing the people who answered those pollsters of racism.
Nobody is arguing that racism isn't a pervasive problem. Although they do argue about whether it's "white privilege" or "class privilege", no one is arguing that unearned privilege isn't an obstacle to raising people out of poverty. Racism is a factor. But it is A factor, not THE factor. I believe that today- not in the days of slavery, not in the days of lynching and Jim crow, but in 2008- there are other "isms" of equal and even greater importance.
Sexism: Does anyone seriously doubt that sexism- and the cover-up of the Edwards affair- is the reason Senator Clinton isn't the nominee? Polls showed that even in the deep south, men preferred a black man to a white woman in the White House- and an amazing number of women agreed. Women have always ridden in the caboose of the civil rights train. I remember hearing Gene Roddenberry, creator of Star Trek, say at a convention that he got more complaints over Lt. Uhura, a woman, giving orders to men than he got over having Capt. Kirk being court-martialed by a black admiral.
Lookism: I could never be elected to a position much higher than City Council because I'm fat. Despite being an overweight nation, it's been nearly a century since we've had a portly President. Even Governors have to be slim- you can count on one hand the number of overweight governors there've been since the invention of television. People simply won't vote for a fat person unless they know them personally. You have to be tall, too- there have only been a couple Presidents under six foot tall in the history of the United states, and none in the last hundred years. President Bush stands unique in the modern era for having defeated a taller man. And these qualities are very nearly as important in the corporate world as the political. People who go above and beyond in the recruiting of minorities still have no problem with telling fat jokes, and hiring, firing, and promoting by weight.
Able-ism: there has never been a candidate from either party with a widely known handicap (Roosevelt and Kennedy concealed their infirmities) except for John McCain and Bob Dole- and they're special cases in that their ailments were received in the process of becoming war heroes. Even so, they can still get around on their own in public. I don't believe we'll ever see a wheelchair in the oval office, because medical science will develop cures and life-like powered exoskeletons faster than the public will get over this prejudice.
CORRECTION: The Eclectic Cleric is not the author of the quotes I mistakenly attributed to him; they were emailed to him, and he just posted it. The authors:
Mary M. Gaylord
Sosland Family Professor of Romance Languages andLiteratures
Director of Undergraduate Studies
Undergraduate Adviser for Romance Studies
424 Boylston Hall, Harvard YardCambridge MA 02138
Jane R. Dickie
Professor of Psychology and Women's Studies.
Hope College.
Holland, MI 49423
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