On graduation ’07.

Yesterday was graduation at the Veterans’ Memorial Arena. Some thoughts:

• Our society needs to move towards a more gown-intensive wardrobe. Academic robes are comfortable, easy to throw on, and you can wear whatever you want underneath them. Additionally, they make everyone look like wiser, like judges, religious elders, and samurai. Plenty of room for a katana under there.

• The speeches were… interesting. Those of you who thought you’d wander this Earth without hearing the words “millions of sperm and eggs” in a commencement ceremony, lay rest those fears.

• I think that the more pragmatic the advice, the more effective the advice. The best and most practical advice given at yesterday’s ceremony was, “Don’t get married with the expectation that you’re going to change the other person.” I applauded. More than a few of my co-workers cringed.

• The best advice I can give to any graduate preparing for college and life beyond is, “Don’t pack any hangers. They take up too much space in the car, and you can buy a dozen for a buck when you get to college.”

• I’m fairly certain we screwed up the simple act of passing out the diplomas. Each student’s diploma had been paperclipped (real word?) to a coversheet with the student’s name on it. After handing out five or six of them, I realized that whoever had done the paperclipping had mismatched some of the sheepskins and coversheets. Whoops. My mistake was failing to ensure that each kid was actually getting the right papers. I caught two or three kids who had walked off with the wrong diplomas, got them the right ones, and hoped there weren’t any other mismatches. But if there were…

Attention recipient of somebody else’s diploma: I humbly apologize for my mistake and hope you find the right diploma. Contact the school if necessary and curse my incompetence if desired.

4 Responses to “On graduation ‘07.”

  1. gatorbob Says:
    June 1st, 2007 at 9:01 PM. I’ve got lots of love for the Doc, but I have to agree that that speech was one of the weirder ones I’ve heard at a commencement ceremony – and PJ O’Rourke was the speaker at one of mine!

    He seemed to be channeling some late nights watching old musicals on AMC with references to Doris Day (how many of the ‘07 class have any idea who Doris was?) and “The Sound of Music.” Truly bizarre!

  2. VDV Says:
    June 2nd, 2007 at 12:30 PM. If they don’t remember Doris Day, perhaps they remember the intro to Heathers–which makes the reference even more strange.
  3. HallPassHoarder11 Says:
    June 3rd, 2007 at 12:22 AM. I agree that Dr. Williams speech was a little weird, but the best part for me was when the doc belted “can i get a testimony” and
    select parents got to their feet to cheer. Also i definetly second you on the idea of a more “gown-intensive wardrobe” I had to wear gowns as a former catholic altar boy, and it was quite comfortable.
  4. twink Says:
    June 22nd, 2007 at 8:38 PM. I had Dr. Williams as a principal long before he was at Stanton or Paxon and believe me, he’s calmed down.

Brace.

A long, long time ago, upon not being assigned the jersey number I wanted, a wise man told me, “The number doesn’t make the man, the man makes the number.” It was consolation and inspiration. It’s advice I’ve since passed along to many players on many teams, whenever an argument broke out over who got to wear #10, or #13, or #9.

Well, that advice is a lie. This afternoon, before the first game of the new seven-a-side season, I was assigned #11—my favorite number, my soul-number—and I scored two goals. Even better, my knee felt good enough that I was able to play until running out of breath, rather than play until collapsing from pain.

I used to prefer #7, but in my sophomore year of high school, I suddenly became an 11 guy. It was a much better fit: there are eleven letters in my last name, I was born in the eleventh month, and… somebody else had already claimed number 7. Eleven and I were a perfect match; I wore it whenever possible—though I must confess I had a thing with the number 19 during my senior year.

Last season, I wore number 5 for the first few games, which was excusable because my team didn’t have a #11 jersey—in fact, we didn’t really have a #5 jersey either, they just took a red shirt and screened a 5 on it. That number was acceptable since “V” is the Roman numeral for five—get it? V? Meh.

I did okay, three goals in four games. Then my brother moved, and I started wearing his #9 jersey because it was an actual jersey and not just a red shirt. I don’t normally like wearing #9 or #10; those numbers are reserved for either superstars or pretentious blowhards, and I am no superstar.

Well, I should have stuck with #5, because the rest of the season was a disaster. No more goals. I hurt my knee pretty badly, and my shins were getting worse. We lost four of our last six games, each of the losses by a single goal, and one of them coming because the ref called a penalty on me for a handball in the box—even though I showed him the stinging red mark where the ball had clearly struck my stomach, not my hand.

Anyhow, two goals today: one for each numeral in Most Glorious Number 11. How poetic. I would say that scoring goals is a matter of timing, skill, power, and having the other team kick the ball right to you when you’re standing unguarded right in front of their goalie, but in this case, I know better. It’s because I was reunited with my belov’d number 11.

On Saturday morning, I read an article referring to a book called The Road by Cormac McCarthy. It piqued my interest enough that at lunch I bought the book. I got home, flipped it open, and was consumed by it. I spent—not wasted—my entire Saturday reading that book. It won a Pulitzer Prize and was recommended by Oprah, so I’m not the only one who thinks it’s any good. English teachers of the world, I don’t care about the occasional grammatical errors or the liberties with punctuation. Put The Road on your reading lists and teach it to your students.

I want very badly to write more about it but I won’t. Find this book and read it.

The Straw Man.

Paul Watson of the Sea Shepherd Conservation Society wrote an editorial so ridiculous that I strongly suspect he was secretly hired by an evil cabal of industrialists, developers, meatpacking barons and concrete magnates for the sole purpose of making environmentalism look stupid. Go ahead, read it. I genuinely believe that people like Mr. Watson make reasonable environmentalists look nutty by association.

Before making fun of his sacred beliefs, I’d like to share my core premise regarding the environment. This gets technical, so pay close attention:

Humans are more important than all other living things combined and multiplied by a bazillion. Other living things are only important to the extent that humans need or want them.

Call me speciesist, call me anthropocentric, call me crazy, but people are the most important people on the planet. Of course, there are particular exceptions; there are certain people who, were they stuck in a burning building, I’d ignore in order to save the termites. But generally speaking, nature should be preserved, conserved, protected, whatever, only to the extent that it optimizes human happiness and human survival. That might mean having more environmental concern than we already do, or it might mean retooling environmental policy, or it might mean capitalizing and titling more natural resources to avoid abuse of ownerless resources.

My point: when push comes to shove, the other life forms—which Mr. Watson calls “fellow citizens and also Earthlings”—are on their own. That goes for the Earth, too, whose ecosystem Mr. Watson calls a “collective living organism.”

Anyhow, let’s look at excerpts from his article, twist his words and ideas, take things out of context, and give him no chance to respond:

Primitive hominids were well-organized, efficient, slaughter crews…

Hell yeah.

Irrigation systems began to toxify land.

Never mind the upside of irrigation systems, such as the increase in agricultural production, a.k.a. “food.”

Some fifty millennia ago, the entire ecosystem of Australia was disrupted and transformed by humans… Marsupials the size of grizzly bears were obliterated.

Good. Do we really want grizzly kangaroos hopping all over the place?

By the most conservative measure – based on the last century’s recorded extinctions – the current rate of extinction is 100 times the background rate. Harvard conservation biologist Edward O. Wilson estimates that the true rate is more like 1,000 to 10,000 times the background rate. We are losing about 200 species a day and remember that the norm is one species per year.
Wilson predicts that our present course will lead to the extinction of half of all plant and animal species by 2100.

Fun with numbers: Let’s assume that we really are losing about 200 species a day, with zero replacement (i.e., no new species). Let’s also assume that there are 2 million animal and plant species on Earth (Watson claims 1.5 million, other articles claim 1.8 million). Two million species divided by a net loss of 200 species per day (assuming a constant rate of extinction, which Watson doesn’t; he argues that the rate is escalating) divided by 365.25 days per year equals 27.4 years. That means that in this worst case scenario, all plant and animal species will be gone by the year 2035.

Now let’s be much kinder to Messrs Watson and Wilson, and assume that 100 new plant and animal species are created per day, bringing the net loss down to 100 plant/animal species. That simply delays total plant and animal extinction until 2062. In order for even half of the world’s plant and animal species to survive to the year 2100 while losing 200 species a day, roughly 170 new species must be created every day. Point? Either Wilson’s and Watson’s extinction claims are hogwash, or they need to be a little more precise, accurate, and intellectually honest when trying to scare the hell out of you.

Species work interdependently to develop mutually beneficial strategies that maintain and strengthen ecosystems.

“Mutually beneficial strategies”—remember that next time you see a lion kill a gazelle, or an owl abduct a squirrel, or bees and hornets at war. The circle of life is one thing, mutual benefit is quite another. Of course some species provide benefits to other species, sometimes deliberately and sometimes incidentally, but let’s not pretend that some species don’t seek dominance to whatever extent they can.

A virus kills its host and that is exactly what we are doing with our planet’s life support system. We are killing our host the planet Earth.

Nature may give us many blessings, but nature also has a tendency to try to kill us. Never mind the other species—what about volcanoes, earthquakes, hurricanes, tsunamis, lightning strikes, mudslides, fires, any number of perfectly natural events that threaten human life? I think a little retaliation’s in order.

I [Watson] was once severely criticized for describing human beings as being the “AIDS of the Earth.” I make no apologies for that statement.

He really should apologize. The Earth does not have unprotected sex with other planets, it does not use intravenous drugs with dirty needles, and its parents were not HIV-positive.

We need to re-wild the planet… No human community should be larger than 20,000 people and separated from other communities by wilderness areas. Communication systems can link the communities.

The last time the largest human community was even as small as 30,000 people was in the Early Bronze Age. That community was Memphis, Egypt, in 3100 BC.

In other words, people should be placed in parks within ecosystems instead of parks placed in human communities.

Translation: he wants humans in zoos. Who would the zookeeper be? I’m sure Mr. Watson would volunteer.

We need vast areas of the planet where humans do not live at all and where other species are free to evolve without human interference.
We need to radically and intelligently reduce human populations to fewer than one billion.

Now I know why Mr. Watson sounds like a raving maniac. Reduce the human population by over five billion? Leave behind a specially selected group who would live in harmony with nature? That’s the villain’s plot in at least three Bond movies. We just need to get Watson a grey jumpsuit and some scars.

We need to stop burning fossil fuels and utilize only wind, water, and solar power with all generation of power coming from individual or small community units like windmills, waterwheels, and solar panels.

…until we realize the windmills are killing the birds, the waterwheels are killing the fish, and the solar panels are hogging the sunlight and killing the plants.

Sea transportation should be by sail. The big clippers were the finest ships ever built and sufficient to our needs. Air transportation should be by solar powered blimps when air transportation is necessary.

If clippers were “sufficient to our needs,” why would anyone have thought to develop any further advances in water travel? Those greedy bastards and their steam engines.

All consumption should be local. No food products need to be transported over hundreds of miles to market.

…unless there’s a drought or blight somewhere. Then we can rush food into the famine-stricken areas by solar-powered blimp. Or horseback. Or clipper-ship. Or we can wrap massive rubber bands around the windmills and fling the food to the starving.

All commercial fishing should be abolished. If local communities need to fish the fish should be caught individually by hand.

Which seems to contradict the very next sentence…

Preferably vegan and vegetarian diets can be adopted.

Why? Aren’t vegetables Earthlings too?

We need to eliminate herds of ungulates like cows and sheep and replace them with wild ungulates like bison and caribou and allow those species to fulfill the proper roles in nature.

After all, some ungulates are more equal than others.

We need to remove and destroy all fences and barriers that bar wildlife from moving freely across the land.

…and into your caves, where they can eat you.

We need an economic system that provides all people with educational, medical, security, and support systems without mass production and vast utilization of resources. This will only work within the context of a much smaller global population.

Wrong. Better education, better medical care, and better economic security have accompanied mass production and vast utilization of resources and an increasing population—and the larger the population has gotten, the closer the world has come to ensuring that everyone has access to those systems. To be fair, it’s possible that the relationship is not causal, but the claim that a much smaller global population is necessary to achieve those particular aims is false.

Who should have children? Those who are responsible and completely dedicated to the responsibility which is actually a very small percentage of humans. Being a parent should be a career.
Whereas some people are engineers, musicians, or lawyers, others with the desire and the skills can be fathers and mothers.

Never mind the insult to the vast majority of parents–I wonder whether Mr. Watson has any children of his own, and if so, whether he’s handed them off to an expert. Or is he one of the very few who are responsible? Imagine that, an environmental expert and a parenting expert! What are the odds? Once again, quis custodiet?

This approach to parenting is radical but it is preferable to a system where everyone is expected to have children in order to keep the population of consumers up to keep the wheels of production moving.

The view that “we have children so that we can buy stuff, in order to keep factories in business” is idiotic and backwards. We don’t consume stuff for the sake of production. We produce stuff for the sake of consumption.

Mr. Watson would allow us to “retain technology, but within the context of Henry David Thoreau’s simple message to ‘simplify, simplify, simplify.’” Here’s the Watson view of simplification: reducing the population to pre-1850s levels, in Bronze Age-sized villages, but without the technology to match. We’d fish without poles or nets, observe vegetarian and vegan diets presumably without irrigation (remember, it “toxifies” land) and definitely without fencing to protect our food sources from the increased number of wild predators he wants roaming around. We’d have nothing faster than solar-powered blimps or horses for emergencies. Actually, horses might be off-limits; Watson doesn’t like domestication of animals.

I suppose it’s possible that we could seamlessly integrate advanced technology into the natural environment in Watson’s future, but that itself would probably require a great deal more technological development than we’ve already achieved. Besides, how would we maintain this technology? Everyone’s going to be too busy trying to catch fish by hand, rubbing sticks together for fire, keeping the bears away from our organic produce and the dingoes away from our babies—that’s if Watson will even let us procreate; we’ll see how strict he is about this 20,000 figure. Shall we kill off the elderly? Have childbearing licensure?

By the way, take a minute to look up how Thoreau died.

I almost feel guilty making fun of Mr. Watson, because it’s so easy and because there really are rational proposals out there for improving the environment–but none of them are his. Again, maybe he’s in Big Business’s hip pocket and deliberately sounds this stupid.

After re-reading Mr. Watson’s editorial, I honestly don’t see how his proposals ensure the long-term survival of the human race. His proposals would certainly make our lives more nasty, brutish, and short, but they wouldn’t help us survive something like the “cataclysmic occurrence that exterminated the dinosaurs”—a.k.a. a massive meteor strike.

What if nature dishes up another one of those–something humans couldn’t naturally have avoided, something that humans simply couldn’t be blamed for? If a meteor that big is headed towards Earth, we’re going to want ways to detect and destroy it. If the sun gets too hot or too cold, we’re going to want (A) to keep the heat out, or (B) trap the heat in, or (C) an ark. Would we, in Mr. Watson’s preferred vision of the future, be able to develop the technology necessary to ensure human survival in those situations?

Probably not. Again, we’d be too busy catching fish by hand and fighting with ungulates over berries.

3 Responses to “The Straw Man.”

  1. Que si Says:
    May 16th, 2007 at 4:56 PMI’m interested in hearing your views on global warming theory. Sorry, let me rephrase that: I’m interested in hearing if you CARE about the global warming theory.
  2. VDV Says:
    May 19th, 2007 at 3:51 PMWell of course I care about Global Warming Theory, I’m just not in love with it anymore. We’re just friends now.

    Why? What did it say? Did Global Warming Theory ask about me? I mean, it’s okay if it didn’t, I’m just curious.

  3. The Questioner Says:
    May 20th, 2007 at 10:46 AMAs a friend make sure to have your quota of CFL.

    Keep in mind that these are the same rocket scientists that do not want to build any new oil refineries or nuclear power plants because of environmental risks, not to mention a tidal harnessing station. Remember that these are facilities run by professionals. But it is ok to give approximately 4 – 5 mg of mercury per bulb to a homeowner with [Moderator: Nothing to see here.] for brains.

    I wanna know when I can get a mercury poisoning vaccine. Say that would be some racket…you know put all this stuff out there knowing that people would be breaking them and not disposing of them correctly. Poison everyone. There is your disease and then invent the cure for the poison. But I digress…

    This is the same crowd that said such horrible things about DDT too. They eliminated its use and in the mean time millions died world wide from malaria related complications. Wait…didn’t the WHO just lift the ban on DDT…what is going on here?

    Is this call for a cull coming from the same group of people who want the US government to save the day in Darfur?
    Are these the same people who cried foul for lack of involvement in Rwanda.?

    I’m confused…

    Oh yeah…and will someone please tell me how CO2 from Earth is getting to Mars?

My latest get-rich-quick scheme.

his article about a grade disinflationist (it’s a word now, by gum) in Louisiana was published over a month ago, but I just read it tonight:

A Louisiana school system must pay more than $1.4 million to an English teacher who was suspended and demoted after refusing to change the D’s and F’s she gave to 70 percent of her students, a federal jury has found.

What good fortune to have found this article just two days before senior grades are due! If this lady made $1.4 million by giving D’s and F’s to a mere 70% of her students, then logically, I could get $2 million by giving D’s and F’s to all of my students! Sing it with me, D! D! F! F! D! D! F! F!

Of course, I’ll have to wear my “sincere integrity” expression (#6) for the duration of the court proceedings, but I think I can swing that.

2 Responses to “My latest get-rich-quick scheme.”

  1. Doctor Hmnahmna Says:
    May 10th, 2007 at 6:17 AMDude, fix the link:

    http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/17874261/

  2. VDV Says:
    May 10th, 2007 at 9:59 AMDone and done.

On childhood beliefs.

A friend sent me a link to a website called Iusedtobelieve.com, which features a collection of the amusing things people believed when they were children—e.g., thunder is God bowling, it’s rude to breathe as you pass a cemetery, Bloody Mary can be summoned from a mirror at midnight. My favorite thus far is from a person named “Gen,” who used to believe that “vanilla was the absence of chocolate, not its own flavor.”

Finding the site compelled me to reflect on some of my own childhood bleefs. For instance, I used to believe that the descriptive phrase “many and sundry” was actually “many incendiary.” You can imagine the confusion that minor misunderstanding often caused.

I once thought that a minute was shorter than a second, thinking that the units of time were named in increasing order of length—thus, a “second” would be the second shortest unit of time. Adding to this conviction was the fact that “minute” preceded “second” alphabetically. Then I discovered “hours,” which threw the whole thing off.

To continue the misperception-of-time motif, I remember being severely disappointed with my father’s response when I asked him whether he and Grampa had fought in the Civil War.

I used to think there were machines that could sense spirit-presences. I had seen a small, circular device on a wall with a tiny red light that never went out. I asked Dad what it was, and his response was that when the red light was on, a ghost was in the building.

When we lived near Washington, D.C., I asked Dad what he did for a living. He said, “I earn money”—so I thought that “to earn money” was some fancy way of saying “to mint coins.” I assumed he worked for the Treasury.

Years ago, in my folks’ attic, I found a movie poster that featured an old, Fifties-style painting of a werewolf at night, titled Return of the Monster, starring none other than my dad. When I asked why he stopped acting, he responded that he didn’t like the contract that Hollywood had offered. I spent the next year scouring the TV Guide every Sunday morning to see whether Return of the Monster would be on that week…

It’s good to cherish those beliefs, though it’s important to outgrow them. Eventually, those smoke detectors have to be plugged back in.

2 Responses to “On childhood beliefs.”

  1. As Im A Bassi Says:
    April 27th, 2007 at 10:35 AMHere’s a couple of mine: on the way to school, we used to pass this huge chimney stack that would every now and then belch out black smoke (back before Earth Day actually existed, probably). I used to think that night was caused by this very same black smoke filling up the sky and blotting out the sun. I still sometimes wonder why we don’t start coughing and sputtering when the sun sets.

    And since I never really knew my mom’s father, I just assumed that Gandhi was my grandfather. And that my father knew Michael Jackson personally, especially when he brought home a “signed” copy of Moonwalker on VHS. (Has anyone actually seen that movie?)

    Now, this doesn’t really fit into the I-used-to-believe category but the pediatrician that my mom used to take me to would always give me a Cadbury’s Mars bar whenever the nurse checked my weight. I got so used to it that from then on, whenever I had my weight checked, I would turn around to the person taking the weight and wait, patiently and expectantly. One more for Pavlov.

  2. twink Says:
    May 2nd, 2007 at 9:24 PMI used to believe that if the cat licked the blueberry pie my mother made, I better tell my parents I ate half of it because cat spit was poison. This was after they made us all stick out our tongues and I still denied it.

    I used to believe that “ren” was the world “child” in some other language. As in, “Dear Parent, we are sending this letter to inform you that your child(ren) has done…. blah, blah, blah.”

    A certain family member of mine used to think that our mother was going to have his “burping mechanism” removed if he kept making himself belch. Another certain family member believed that if she buried her dead pet rabbit in Southpoint, his spirit would rise again a la Hazel from “Watership Down”, and run free.