Coming Out -- Again
Thursday, November 6, 2008

This is an eleven-year old post.  Are you sure you want to live in the past?

Yes.                     No.

Posted byPortlyDyke at 3:30 PM  

I will KICK YOUR ASS with my pumpkins
Friday, October 31, 2008

Of course, nothing is sadder than what happens to perfectly good pumpkins later.

Posted byPortlyDyke at 11:49 PM 4 comments  

Why Money Sucks - and Why It Doesn't
Friday, October 10, 2008

Since a lot of people seem to be very focused on the subject of "money" lately, I thought I'd take this opportunity to present a little Portly Lecture.

*clearing throat*

The first form of inter-tribal "commodity" money (approx. 9000 -1 bc) was probably livestock/cattle, and some archaeologists/anthropologists suspect that the first form of "representative" money (something that was not the Valuable Thing itself, but rather, an acceptable stand-in for the Valuable Thing) might have been a scrap of hide that represented one cow or one sheep, etc. -- so that you didn't have to actually move the cattle around in order to make the deal -- because moving cattle costs them energy and requires feeding them along the way, and risks them being attacked by predators, etc..

Cowrie shells later had a good go as "money" in a number of cultures (one of the Chinese characters for money is actually based on the shape of a cowrie shell). Cowries and other shells were used as currency in parts of Africa, Asia, and North America. Cowrie shells and later coined money are sometimes referred to as "commodity" money, but I actually think that they were "representational" money as well, for reasons I'll go into below.

Some other forms of "commodity money" (think of this as "stuff that everybody will probably need/use at some point, or which they can trade to someone else who will probably need it) that humans have tried on during the last 11,000 years or so are: amber, drums, eggs, feathers, gongs, ivory, jade, leather, mats, nails, oxen, pigs, quartz, rice, salt, shovel-heads, hoes, various metal ingots, and thimbles.

Why the history lesson? Well, to make one point very clear: Money is nothing more than agreement.

The proof of this is that, even though Cowrie shells were considered perfectly good as legal tender in a wide range of ancient cultures, I'm guessing that you would not be willing to let me purchase your house with them today. (If you would be willing to do so, please email me -- I happen to have some very lovely cowrie shells.)

I find myself particularly bemused when thinking about Cowries as currency, because, although they are pretty and shiny and all, they really have no intrinsic "survival" value aside from any agreement the ancients might have had that they were recognized currency (unlike, say, eggs, salt, or shovel-heads).

You can't eat a cowrie shell. You can't turn a cowrie shell into a tool. Unless you have someone else who agrees with you that they are "money", they are exclusively ornamental.

Which is why I laugh when I hear people rant about the importance of the "gold standard".

Archaeological finds suggest that gold has been used as a form of currency since the 7th century BCE.

My chuckles about the gold standard stem from the fact that gold is so closely parallel to cowrie shells in many respects: Pretty. Shiny. Can't eat it. Lousy for making tools.

In fact, gold's widespread usefulness as a Valuable Thing in its own right (rather than its value as ornament, or any agreements about gold as a currency) is fairly recent -- arriving with the advent of industrial, electronic, and medical uses for gold.

So in the sense of gold's pre-industrial-age value as currency, I actually think gold kind of sucks when compared to cowries as a form of currency -- because gold is heavy -- really heavy -- and the whole idea of agreed-upon currency is to create a portable symbol of agreement so that the underlying barter of goods (which is the true purpose of any representational economic system) is more efficient.

The transport inefficiencies with gold and other metal coinage (why risk a dozen perfectly good oxen dragging some heavy-ass gold around with you as you vacationed in Capri? -- not to mention the danger of robbers) was probably what gave rise to paper money -- and we've been moving toward ever more efficient and portable agreements about money since paper money was first printed in China in the 5th century CE -- we've moved from printed currency to "checks" to paper credit cards and accounts to plastic with numbers to magnetic strips.

But again -- this is all just an agreement -- a rather fragile agreement, as we have been witnessing in recent weeks.

At the end of the US Civil War, Confederate paper money (which started out with a high value at the start of Secession) was valueless -- after the War, these tokens of previous agreement were used to insulate clothing and as litter for hen-houses.

Nowadays, you can buy a set of 13 Confederate banknotes on ebay for around $8 -- but it still isn't valued as currency -- it's been relegated to the pretty/shiny/unusual classification that an ancient trade-bead or cowrie shell has -- because it lacks this one thing:

Agreement.

When I send you a check or a paypal transfer or whatever for xx.xx$USD, it's because we agree that xx.xx$USD=xx.xx$USD or xx.xx₤ or xx.xx$Canadian or xx.xxPesos or xx.xxYen or whatever.

That agreement changes day to day, and here's the first reason that Money Sucks:


We don't. We really don't. Not in this culture, anyway. We go online and look at the rate for today that someone else (not us) agrees that our "money" is worth as compared to other types of "money", or as compared to what "our money" was worth yesterday, and then we either groan or cheer.

And when we try to find out who that "someone else" might be? It's this mysterious something called "The Market". It's no one that we can talk to or negotiate with -- it's this huge, weird system that most of us feel baffled and confused by.

Truth is, though, that "The Market" is nothing but a network of human beings and their agreements, and believe me -- somewhere, there is someone (or a collection of someones) who types in numbers and makes decisions and today, I know that that someone is not me, and that collection of someones is not me and my friends/allies/acquaintances (and if some of you friends/allies/acquaintances out there are in this group of someones, and you're holding out on me here, I am letting you know right now that I am not getting you a birthday present this year!).


The second way that money sucks is this: The vast majority of people on this planet live in societies in which money is pretty much necessary for basic survival. This, in itself, is not a problem, as agreement on a portable method of exchange is handy and efficient and facilitates a wider range of exchanges.

The problem arises because of this: The vast majority of that vast majority exchange hours of their time, and the use of their energy (in varying forms of muscle-power, brain-power, etc.) in order to "earn" money.

As Joe says at 5:00 of this clip: ".... my life. I sold it to you for $300 freakin' dollars a week!"



Again, even this "sale of life" is not, in itself, a problem -- but here's the rub for me:

Let's take two jobs:

Person A is a 22-year-old delivery-driver, making $10/hour.

Person B is a 48-year-old retail salesperson, making minimum wage ($6.55/hour).

(And yes, these are real-life examples based on people that I actually know.)

Each of them are selling hours of their life, with comparable energy-outputs in terms of physical demands.

Where do I find the arrogance to say that an hour of one of these individual's lives is worth more or less than an hour of the other's?

Think of someone you love for a moment. Let's say that they are about to die, and you have the power to ransom them -- for a price. How much would you pay for another hour of their existence? How much for another day? Another year?

This is where the concept of money gets really difficult for me. I simply have a hard time getting behind any system which arbitrarily "agrees" that an hour of one human being's existence can be worth, say, $120/hour (or more), while an hour of another human being's existence can be worth 50 cents (or less).

I've struggled with this concept for a long, long time, and have not yet resolved it for myself to any degree of real satisfaction.

I suppose that makes me a socialist.

When I add the reality that the valuation of what an hour of my life is worth according to "The Market" may change at any moment, with or without my agreement, or the agreement of the person making $120/hr or certainly, the person making 50 cents/hr . . . . . well . . . . . . why do so many people seem shocked that the system is disintegrating? I believe that we all knew that it wasn't fair, or balanced, or even realistic over the long term -- I believe that we all knew this -- for a very long time.

So, now that I've talked about how much money sucks, let me tell you why I think it doesn't suck:

Money, as a pure concept of a mutually-agreed-upon form of efficient exchange, definitely does not suck. If you and I and a whole bunch of other people can agree that cowrie shells can stand in for a number of other things that we might want to exchange easily and portably, I think that's great.

However, I think that there are some things that are currently not agreed-upon in global human society that we should settle -- before we get on with this whole "money" thing:

1) Everyone who wants it gets a place to live that is safe and hygienic.
2) Everyone who wants it gets enough to eat.
3) Everyone who wants it gets serviceable clothing that will protect them from the elements.
4) Everyone who wants it gets medical care and treatment.

Once that's all taken care of, anyone who wants to develop a trade or service for which they charge 200 cowries per hour is free to do so (as long as it doesn't impact the basic right of any other human to enjoy basic shelter, food, clothing, and medical care). I can agree with them (or not) that I will turn over my cowrie shells at their hourly rate for whatever trinket or service they are selling.

I mean -- if we're going to play a gigantic shell-game -- then let's play it with gusto, and consciousness, and mutual agreement.

Posted byPortlyDyke at 1:05 AM 8 comments  

SNTDBIDW -- Worry
Tuesday, October 7, 2008

(Installment #3 in a series)

When I was a kid, I was a bona-fide worry-wart.

Add to this the fact that I was a budding professional insomniac by age 7, and this guaranteed that the night before a big test, or an important school project, I would be laying in bed for hours and hours and hours with eyes so sanpaku that I could have auditioned for the part of mass-murderer in the 2nd grade pageant (of course, if I'd gotten the part, I would have laid awake for hours and hours and hours the night before the pageant, worrying about it).

On one such night, I wandered downstairs while my parents were watching Johnny Carson and announced that, since there was no way I was going to get to sleep ever, I should be allowed to stay up and watch the Tonight Show with them.

At which point, my dad gave me a piece of advice that, if advice could be worn out, would be nothing but bare shreds of advice by now (or perhaps, simply trace advice-residue), so often and so thoroughly have I applied it.

"If you're worried about something and it's keeping you awake, and there's something you can do about right now, then get up right now and do that something. If not, then remember that you've done all you can right now, and get a good night's sleep."

If I recall correctly, in that particular instance, the awful, haunting, worrisome thing was a Social Studies test, for which I had done all the studying I could have possibly done, so I went back upstairs and fell fast asleep.

Now, as regards Worrying being Shit Not To Do Because It Doesn't Work, I'm not going to hand you some simplistic "Don't Worry, Be Happy" shit.

I'm going to talk about the merits of refraining from -- or transforming -- Worry based on the original premise of this series -- that the best reason not to worry is that worry doesn't work -- it doesn't actually do anything.

Personally, I think that worry and guilt are two of the most useless pastimes in the world. (Sadly, this doesn't mean I don't engage in these useless pastimes.)

I do not even deign to call them "emotions", because I don't think that they are emotions. I think that they are mental exercises.

Worry is, essentially, a form of fear -- (for what's it's worth, I don't think that Fear is actually an emotion, either, but seriously, if this post is not going to be a nonillion characters long, we're just going to have to save Portly's Definitions of Real, True Emotions for another time, so bear with me for this one, 'K?)

My problem with worry is that, unless you actually harness it as a motivating force (which few people seem to do) I don't see what usefulness it has.

In fact, worry tends to be counterproductive for many (if not most) of us -- giving rise to a certain paralyzed, lethargic state in which the bulk of our energy is channeled into the worrying --and leaving very little energy left over for taking action.

I could go on and on about how this energy-misdirection results in the Worrier taking no action on the thing that's worrying them, thus deepening the cause for worry, but I won't.

Instead, I'm going to move directly into some suggestions about how to stop/refrain from/transform Worrying.

1) Part one of dad's advice has been very effective for me. If I'm laying awake at night worrying, and I can do something that would move the worrisome situation forward for me, I get up right then, and I do that something.

Sometimes, if this is in the middle of the night, this is drafting or even sending an email, sitting down to pay the bills (even if I don't have the money in the bank right at that moment, I actually write the checks out and show any negative balance to myself, so that I have an idea about the actuality of the problem, and have a goal to work toward), or typing out an imagined conversation that I can't actually have right at that moment (because that person would probably be pissed as hell if I called them at 3 am), but that I'm worried about having (this exercise often shows me what anticipated responses from the other person I'm worried about in the conversation).

2) If you're worried about something that you cannot do anything about right now, get that shit out of your head. Stop offering it massive real-estate in your brain. Easier said than done, you say? Well, of course -- but here are some tricks I use:

• Make the "Oh-Shit-Oh-Fuck" list. When I'm truly worrying away about something over which I have absolutely no power (not that anyone might be having that problem right about now, I'm sure *ahem*), I actually follow my worry out on paper. I write down what I'm worried might happen -- I might write: "I'll lose my job". Then I ask the question: "Yeah, and then what?" -- which generally leads to something like: "Then I won't be able to pay my bills", or yours might be: "I'll lose my health benefits, and won't be able to pay for the medication I need". I ask again: "Yeah, and then what?" I follow those worries/fears down to the ultimate conclusion (which is usually something like "And then I'll die") to the greatest extent that I can. I put them on paper. If I discover some part of it that I can actually do something about, I write that on a to-do list. If not, I set the OSOF list aside, and if I come up with something else I'm worrying about, I add it to the list. Then, when the worries arise and seem about to eat me, I glance over at the list and think: "Yeah, I've heard that before" or "Oh -- hey! That's a new one! My! Aren't we creative!" *scribble, scribble scribble*. Sometimes, when I go to bed, I'll actually say: "Goodnight, list -- I know you'll probably still be here in the morning, but if not, sweet dreams!"
  
• Talk to someone else about my worries (even small, seemingly ridiculous worries). Preferably someone who isn't likely to commiserate with me in the direction of more worrying.
• Make a description of what's actually happening now in my life, and compare it to my worries list. Not as a way of negating the real concerns, or even the ridiculous worries, but as a way of balancing my perspective -- a way of saying: "Yes, I have this worry, and here's what's happening now".
  

These tricks seem to help me manage my worrying (and get some sleep). When I'm keeping my worries cooped up inside my brain, they tend to bounce off the walls with increasing speed and fury. Getting them metaphorically outside of my brain, while still acknowledging them, seems to be important for me.

For those of you who follow the idea that thought creates reality, and worry (oh no!) that these strategies will simply resonate the thing that you are worried about, well, this is how I look at it: The worry is already in my head. I can deny that and simply try to "think good thoughts", but I've found that that doesn't really work for me.

When I'm feeling worried, and I try to "talk myself down" with positive affirmations, it doesn't seem to work. I think that it's a way of "shushing" the worries, which just makes the worries more worried, because after all, if they were actually invalid, why would I shush them instead of simply hearing them out and saying "That's not a realistic concern" or "That's a completely valid concern and I'll do everything I can to address it"?

In my recent contemplations of the current economic situation (my own and the nation's/world's), I have come to the conclusion that, should it really all go to the worst kind of shit imaginable in a catastrophic, melt-downish manner that I have no control over, I would rather have spent this time feeling alive and engaged, rather than worried and paralyzed.

I'm not saying that you "shouldn't" worry, or that the worries people are entertaining are invalid or unreasonable -- I'm just questioning the effectiveness of turning a large amount of the rather formidable brain-power that exists amongst my friends and acquaintances to that activity.

I'm attempting to practice something other than worry because I've tried it before, and that shit does not work.

Your mileage may vary.

Posted byPortlyDyke at 9:45 AM 3 comments  

Gratitude
Thursday, October 2, 2008

Yesterday, I got an alert from Amazon Honor-Pay System that $81 had been transferred from my donation bucket to my bank account.

Seems three of you donated anonymously (I had been alerted about one of the four donations I received that wasn't anonymous), and I want to say -- Thank You, from the bottom of my heart.

The last six months have been a bit dicey for us financially, as I'm sure they have been for many of you. I do a lot of the work that I do in the meat-world free of charge as a minister, and rely on my small business to pay my daily bills -- that's my choice and my desire, but my personal business service is of the type that people generally purchase only after the rent is paid and the groceries are secured (as it should be!), so cash has been pretty thin for us.

The fact that folks left donations during this time when I know that many are worried about finances warmed my heart even more, and that $81 brightened my day considerably. That amount is more than double the total amount that I've received in donations in the entire time I've had the donation-box up -- it was a wonderful surprise -- a little miracle on the 1st of a month when I needed a little miracle.

My Beloved said: "Hey! You got paid for writing!" -- I guess that makes me an "author" now. ;)

On the "more good news" side of the equation, we just found out yesterday that it looks as if we've found someone to share our current space with us, so we'll probably be able to remain where we are for the Winter. We were ready to give notice for the end of November (kind of a lousy time to move in the Northwest).

So -- Thank You -- to those of you who donated, and to those of you who read and comment. Your support means a lot to me, and helps me keep on keepin' on.

Posted byPortlyDyke at 8:55 AM 6 comments  

SNTDBIDW - The Same Damn Thing You Did Last Time
Sunday, September 28, 2008

OK -- here's installment two in SNTDBIDW:

How To Break Patterns

I do not personally know a single adult human being who hasn't danced out at least one horrifically dysfunctional (at worst) or annoyingly ineffective (at best) pattern in their life.

Granted, I do not personally know the Dalai Lama, and I acknowledge that there may be a plethora of exceptional human beings who do not run up against this challenge -- but if they exist, I have not met them yet.

If you are one of these exceptional human beings -- someone who has never once had the thought: "Uh-oh, here we go again!", or "Oh shit, I've had this exact same argument before, with this exact same person", or "Crappity-crap-crap! I KNEW I shouldn't have done this!!!!!!" -- please introduce yourself -- I will consider you the exception that proves the rule.

I will leave aside, for the moment, the multitudinous psychological and metaphysical discussions that we might have about why otherwise bright people sometimes engage in patterns of behavior that are self- or other-destructive, counter-productive, or just plain stupid.

I will instead, attempt to describe the "Because It Doesn't Work" aspect of dysfunctional patterns, and offer some suggestions.

I will start with an example, by way of personal anecdote, about one of the "patterns" that plagued me for many years.

For many, many, many years -- (like 46 years) -- it seemed to me that the only type of person that I could possibly be attracted to as an intimate partner was a "withdrawer".

Which was problematic for me.

You see, I am not a "withdrawer". I am an "advancer".

If a conflict arises, I am the type of person who wants to confront it immediately, and talk it out until it is resolved, no matter how tired, hungry, angry, or cold I am at the time (and therefore, often, how fairly in-equipped I am to find resolution at the time) .

However -- I have, with atomic-clock-like precision, paired with partners who were my polar opposite in this respect -- human beings who tended to want to take time away from the issue until they were not so tired/hungry/angry/cold before they attempted resolution -- or who wanted to take time away from the issue altogether -- forever -- and seemed to actually prefer entertaining the subtle, toxic undertone of unresolved shit, as if it were some kind of exotic spice for Relationship Stew (pun intended).

For many years, I approached this dilemma with a single strategy: I would simply batter away until I got them to "deal with it".

Ask me how that worked out.

Over time, I began to realize that I was approaching these situations in a most unscientific, illogical, and irrational manner -- I, who prided myself on my rationality, and my logic.

Here's the metaphor: If you were a scientist, and you went into the laboratory and mixed two chemicals in a beaker, and the reaction of the two chemicals was such that it blew the laboratory sky high, and burned the fuck out of you -- would you rebuild the same exact laboratory, and mix those exact two chemicals in precisely the same kind of beaker again?

OK -- maybe you would -- one more time. Tops.

On this second attempt, though, if you blew the lab to smithereens and burned the fuck out of yourself again -- well, chances are that you would . . . . . . Try Something Different.

Strangely, I didn't do that for many years. Instead, I kept applying the same disastrous formula to my experiments -- over, and over, and over, and over.

It went like this:
a) Problem arose in relationship (usually in the form of conflict or disagreement).
b) Argument ensued . . . . or Discussion ensued -- and quickly devolved into Argument.
c) Partner who had low-tolerance for conflict or ongoing process demonstrated fatigue, or expressed desire to go away and process internally before continuing to talk. (I tend to process "on-the-fly", as I talk.)
d) I would press partner further, often pulling out the "Never go to bed angry" card, or claiming that their need for a break was simply avoidance (which observation may have actually been correct, in some cases).
e) My pressing would simply add to low-conflict-tolerance partner's overload, and render them even less likely to want to engage.
f) At that point, I would generally push harder and thus, exponentially grow the conflict.

(Lab Note, circa 2002: After several dozen disastrous explosions in the period between 1974 and 1983, I undertook a slightly different approach for the next eight years in which I chose to give the subject "space", while fastidiously resenting the fuck out of them. This procedure ultimately resulted in a somewhat delayed, but much larger, explosion. During the period from 1991 to 2002, I alternated between the "press on" and "back off and simmer" procedures, with consistent results. [see attached slides of rubble and broken glass].)

I'm not 100% sure why I persisted in applying just these two strategies for so many years, but I have a partial hypothesis, and some strong hunches. The hypothesis is the result of years of in-depth therapy, wherein I figured out that I was in reaction to my mother's tendency to withdraw in the face of any conflict. The hunches are along the lines of: I suspect that I held in my mind some notion that if my partner got what they wanted, it meant that I couldn't get what I wanted (because that was the way it had worked in my FOO).

I'm not fond of the concept of "compromise". I don't think it's bad as a theory, but I've rarely seen it work in practice.

The Merriam-Webster definition of compromise demonstrates why that may be so, I think:

Compromise:
1 a: settlement of differences by arbitration or by consent reached by mutual concessions b: something intermediate between or blending qualities of two different things
2: a concession to something derogatory or prejudicial compromise of principles

I think that, all too often, while meaning #1 is usually the intended theory, meaning #2 more often represents the actuality.

What's interesting to me is that, even though I had self-awareness about my dynamic with my mom and my family-of-origin, and insights about my own judgments concerning the concept of compromise, this didn't magically get me to stop blowing up the laboratory (I'll speak more below on what did end my lab-annihilation streak).

Before I do that, however, I want to note that these were my particular chemicals and beakers -- yours may be different.

You may be the person at the other end of the spectrum -- the person who overloads easily in conflict, and needs space to process internally before having the energetic resources to resolve things with others (and isn't it remarkable how often we pair in just this manner -- Withdrawer with Advancer, Introvert with Extrovert, etc.?)
OR
Your particular pattern may have nothing whatsoever to do with personal relationships, but rather, it may a pattern that you have repeated ad nauseum in your work life, or your spiritual path, or in some other arena of your life.

Here's what I did to change the withdrawer/advancer dynamic in my intimate relationship:

I did something different.

About six months into my current relationship -- the relationship in which I found the love of my life -- the apple of my eye -- the floatage for my boatage -- the frosting for my flakes -- I noticed that "that thing" was starting to show up. That oh-no!-so-familiar thing: My partner withdrawing, and me pressing on.

Prior to meeting my Beloved, I had assumed, from the frequency of my patterned behavior in intimate relationships, that I just had what I called a "broken picker". I assumed that I had simply made poor choices in pairing -- by choosing partners who happened to demonstrate traits that were like my mother, and which, consequently, triggered the living hell out of me.

However, with the Beloved, I felt quite clear that I had made the correct "pick". I was madly, frothingly, in love with her, and she was madly, frothingly in love with me back. This was not at question for either of us in any way.

So, when the dreaded pattern started showing up, I had two epiphanies: 1) Maybe I was picking people "like that" for a reason -- that reason being that I actually needed to clear up this pattern, and 2) Maybe my past approaches had simply been ineffective -- not "wrong" -- not "bad" -- simply inefficient.

During our third big repetitive fight (in the car -- bad place to fight, btw), as I found myself thinking: "Here I/we go again!", I did something I had never done before -- I pulled the car over to the side of the road, and I said exactly what I was thinking:

"Sugar, I adore you. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you. And. . . . . .what we're doing now? -- Where you withdraw and I press on? I've done that before, and I don't want to do it any more. So, if this is what we're going to do in the future, I think we should just break up right now, even though I'm madly, frothingly in love with you, and I know you're in love with me, too. Because I already know where this goes, and I just don't want to go there any more."

My Beloved stopped, looked thoughtful for a minute, and said: "Yeah, I've gone here before, too, and this isn't how I want to do it, either . . . . . let's do something different."

Since that day, six years ago, we've been doing it differently.

Our particular form of doing it differently means that we don't compromise -- but rather that we work collectively to make sure that each of our needs gets met in our interactions. This means that I sometimes give her space to think and process at her own pace, but that she also recognizes my "need for speed", and that when she does take space to process, she makes a concerted effort to actually process, rather than simply escape (which she admitted was one of her patterns). It means that I acknowledge that my "need for speed" can be just as much a tactic for escape from discomfort as I used to think her need for process-time was. It means that when we come into conflict with each other (which is remarkably rare these days), we often end up choosing to do things that are not necessarily as immediately "comfortable" as our old patterned choices were -- but since we've tried those patterns out pretty thoroughly, and discovered that they just don't work, we're each willing to go through that discomfort.

So, if you hear yourself saying or thinking things like: "Here we/I go again!", or "Damn! I thought I had figured this out, and here it is once more!" -- or even "See! I told you this would happen!", I'd suggest to you that you have just admitted that you are dealing with a pattern -- something with which you have enough experience that you can recognize it when it comes around again, and dread the results as predictable.

I would posit that it is at this precise moment of recognition that you have the opportunity to Do Something Different.

That "Something Different" will probably feel (at least initially) uncomfortable and unfamiliar -- which is usually a very good sign that it is actually Something Different.

And if you blow up the lab again?

Well, at least you will have new data about what works and what doesn't work.

Posted byPortlyDyke at 5:55 PM 5 comments  

I Have a Better Idea
Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Since we're looking at a $700 Billion Bailout, I thought I'd be helpful and offer some suggestions.

I think that I have a better idea than handing one man $700 billion dollars, while agreeing that "Decisions by the Secretary pursuant to the authority of this Act are non-reviewable and committed to agency discretion, and may not be reviewed by any court of law or any administrative agency."

Actually, I think I have THREE better ideas.

Better Idea #1: The Keep It Simple Stupid Idea

Since we're talking 700 Billion dollars, and there are nearly 7 billion people on the planet, how about we just go Absolute Deregulation on their asses? -- Give every single human on the planet 100 dollars and let them do whatever the fuck they want with it.

Now, the current estimated world population is only 6.725 billion as of this month, so, rather than fight over that remaining $27.50, maybe we could do something else with that -- let me think . . . . oh . . . . like, having a huge fuck-off party!

OK, now I realize that this KISS approach may be too "Act Globally, Think Universally" for some of you, so I have a couple of other ideas -- especially if you think that it would be unfair for US taxpayers to have to foot the bill for the whole world's sudden multi-billionaire status. I have to say that some part of me agrees that, even though we will all be multi-billionaires, too, each of us USofA tax-payin' citizens would have to part with $2,324.50 of our new-found wealth to pay for this approach, and that would just not be fair.

If you want to "keep US wealth in the US", my other two Better Ideas might be more palatable for you -- and they're both actually based in another KISS principle -- How about we just obey United States law?

Since legal precedent generally treats a corporation like an individual, and some corporations are teetering on the edge of financial ruin, why don't we just treat them like individuals?

We happen to have a couple of ways of dealing with some of the individuals who are in financial distress in our country.

For those in debt who want a "new start", we have Bankruptcy. For those who can't seem to make it on their own at the moment, we have Welfare.

So, for those who worry that Better Idea #1 smacks too strongly of Oh-Noes!-Teh-Socialism!!, I invite you to consider:

Better Idea #2 -- Bankruptcy:

This'll be easy! We even have a handy-dandy new bankruptcy law -- barely three years old! It's designed to help those in financial distress become more Responsible[tm] about how they handle their $$, and stop misusing the bankruptcy process! Doesn't that sound all warm and friendly and fiscally responsible and shit?

If we simply follow the 2005 law --

First, the troubled individual corporation will have to pass a means test, to be certain that they can qualify for a straight Chapter 7 bankruptcy. They will have to prove that they don't make more than the median income in their state.

What's that? You say that some of these corporations are incorporated in many (if not all) states? Oopsy! Well, let's just say that we take the average of all the corporations in all the states that they're incorporated in. That seems fair.

If they pass the median income test, they have to go to mandatory credit counseling, and then file Chapter 7, but any tax-debt, student-loan debt, fines incurred for violating the law, or debts incurred through fraud will have to be paid back. Properties that secured debts will have to be returned to the creditors.

If they don't pass the means test, they will have to file Chapter 13, and make monthly payments over a five-year period to repay their debt.

What's that? You say that the corporation itself doesn't have any money, because the CEOs and consultants and other high-level folks took all the money and are personally indemnified against the corporation's debt or mismanagement? Oopsy!

Whatever will we do with these naughty, naughty corporations? They can't pay a thing, poor dears, and they're penniless! Penniless, I tell you!

Well, I suppose that leaves us only:

Better Idea #3: Welfare

OK -- fine -- everybody makes mistakes. But don't worry, we're here to help -- of course, you'll need to do what everyone else who wants welfare has to do:

Depending on what state you're in, you can only have $1000-3000 worth of assets (including cash, checking/savings, stocks, bonds, IRAs, and 401ks). Since the corporation may be in many states, let's split the diff and say $2000 as an assets-cap. The corp can keep: (one) house, (one) car, a burial plot and up to $1500 in pre-paid funeral home accounts, and any assets that cannot be turned into cash. Maybe the CEOs can move in togther in the one house -- and they can car-pool.

Oops -- I forgot -- the CEOs are not the corporation, and they get to keep their houses, and cars, and yachts, and planes. And cash. And stocks. And bonds and IRAs and 401ks.

But on with this welfare thingy -- First, Mr. Corporation has to fill out an application, and wait. And wait. And wait.

What's that, Mr. Corporation? You're in trouble right now? Bummer. The wheels of bureaucracy turn slowly!

Well, now that I'm looking over your case-file, you might qualify for emergency food-stamps. (maximum benefit $155/month -- average $86/month). Maybe that'll help.

What's that? You're not feeling well, Mr. Corporation? Well, here's an application for medicaid. I'll warn you though -- it takes about 3 years for the approval. What? You're dying now? Bummer. The wheels of bureaucracy turn slowly!

Oh -- and just a reminder, Mr. Corporation -- *stern tone* --you have to report any change in your income to us immediately -- and if you don't, you may have to pay back any benefits that you may eventually qualify for. We may also schedule periodic home visits to check up on you.

What's that?

No, you don't get a five-year advance on your welfare checks . . . .
No, not even a three-month advance . . . . .
Well, Mr. Corporation, I hear that things are looking very grim for you right now, but . . . . yes, I understand that sir, and I've done all that I can do for you right now . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
lookit, Mr. Corporation!, nothing is going to be helped by you yelling at me! If you're approved, you'll get your check when everyone else gets their check, and I'll advise you to just go home now and I will get back to you if there's any change in your case!!!!!

(This dramatization brought to you by someone who has sat on both sides of the desk at the welfare office.)

So, I guess we're probably back to Better Idea #1, huh? Sounds more fun to me, anyway.
==========
(Note for the hard-of-humor: Although I actually think that all of the ideas listed above would probably be better than those currently being considered by our government, I have no illusion that my suggestions will ever be taken seriously, and so, have not bothered to work out the actual practical details. If you try to take me to task for this in comments, I will laugh derisively at you as a humorless twit.)

(Note for the hard-of-math - ME: My original version was screwed -- it's $100/person, not $100 billion -- I suck at math, which is maybe why that $100 is looking really good to me right now.)

Posted byPortlyDyke at 2:45 AM 7 comments  

Check Your Perspective
Sunday, September 21, 2008

Recently, I've read a lot of posts from people who are very angry about the unregulated fat-cats who have been profiting obscenely from our financial system, and whose obscene profits have led to the current financial crisis in the USA.

They are pissed that rich people are whining because they might have to take their kids out of private school, or give up their private jet, or sell one of their eight or ten or twelve houses. They are rightly pissed, I think, when many of them are struggling to keep their only house, or their job, or the pension they worked 40+ years for.

I know that I feel mad when I think about massive corporate bail-outs. Someone suggested that all the CEOs of these "rescued" companies should have to go through the same legally-mandated credit-counseling that any individual considering Chapter 7 Bankruptcy must undergo -- I'd take this a step further, and require that any counseling sessions they attend be televised on C-Span (since it's taxpayer dollars which will cover their debt).

But . . . . . and . . . . .

It's kind of surprising to me sometimes that, when people who have been in the "have-more" class suddenly get to experience what it's like to be in the "have-less" class, they don't take a moment to consider . . . . .

There are people in the world -- many, many, many people in the world -- for whom the thought of even having a house, owned or not -- with actual walls and a roof that keeps the wind or rain out -- is a dream that seems so far away and distant that they may have never even considered it as a possibility -- people for whom the question is not "Will I need to adjust the way that I eat? Will I be able to afford healthful food for my family?", but rather "Will there be anything to eat at all?"

I have a friend who works as a personal assistant to someone whose net worth is over 10 million. My friend works for this person (by choice) on a contract basis -- my friend has no employer-paid health insurance, no other benefits at all -- just her hourly rate -- and she's carrying significant debt. She chooses to work for this person as she does for her own reasons, and recognizes this clearly as her own choice. However, she admits that it was sometimes difficult for her to deal with her employers complaints when said employer lost a million dollars last year (when my friend's net worth is hovering somewhere between minus-significant-something and her cash worth is a couple hundred bucks).

It's amazing to me, though, that even when this is difficult for her, she can say to me: "You know, it's all a matter of perspective. If I lost 10% of what I had, I'd probably be freaked out too -- but I try to always remember that I'm well-fed and well-housed and well-clothed. I'm rich."

As pissed as you might be at people who have more than you do when they may be whining about having to part with something you can barely imagine having, think for a moment how someone in the third-world might consider the fear that a lot of Americans are having about the possible loss of their home or their job (or even just necessary adjustments to their "lifestyle", like no more dinners out or a couple less lattes a week or maybe cutting cable-service from premium to standard) -- think about that for a minute.

Think about it and realize that, in some sense, for someone in this world -- you are the fat-cat.

Now, don't get all guilty about it -- just consider it for a minute, and look around at what you have.

If you're reading this, you have internet access -- and even if you went to the library to get internet access because you can't afford a computer at home -- you have a library to go to. Consider that the very fact that you can have the fear that you will lose something means that you have something to lose.

It's my personal belief that our entire "financial crisis" is a product of fear.

For the greedy, who may have clawed their way up the ladder of "success", perhaps it is the fear that they can never have enough which has driven them to lose all perspective about how their own welfare is tied up with the welfare of millions of other people -- people who make up the rungs of that ladder, and without whom, their wealth cannot exist.

For the working stiff, perhaps it is the fear that the rug can be pulled out from under them at any moment, or their rank fatigue at being stepped on by others as they ascend ever upward, which has led them to a place where they have hocked everything -- their ethics, values, and concern for their own real fulfillment -- in an attempt to climb up that ladder toward the greedy ones -- the greedy ones who they simultaneously despise, and aspire to emulate.

For the desperately poor, perhaps it is the simple, unadorned, and reasonable fear that, when the ladder collapses under the weight of all that fear, it will land squarely and most damagingly on them -- and there will be no food, no water, and no shelter for them.

Bank-runs and stock-market crashes are made of 100% pure, unadulterated, FEAR. Economic advisors may speak delicately about a lack of "confidence", but you and I both know that they're lying.

What they are talking about is a surfeit of fear.

Nearly everyone in this country has something to lose. Which means that we have something. Which means that somewhere, someone out there in the world could quite justifiably look at us (regardless of our relative station of power or status in this country) and think: "What the hell are they complaining about?"

Take that perspective with you, if you like, and if you want to do something -- if you want to stop being afraid -- look around you right now, and find something that you currently have that you aren't afraid of losing (even better -- something that you're completely and totally ready to have move along -- something that has stopped being a treasure to you and has simply become something that you have to "keep track of"), and give. it. the. fuck. away.

Preferrably to someone who would think of you as a fat-cat.

Because, after all, isn't that what you wish the fat-cats would do?

=========================
*h/t to WomanistMusings, whose heads-up about Haitian people eating mudcakes laced with shortening and salt gave me a much-needed perspective check today.

Posted byPortlyDyke at 4:00 PM 12 comments  

SNTDBIDW -- Shit Not To Do Because It Doesn't Work
Saturday, September 20, 2008

So, I've been thinking recently -- many bloggers have some kind of daily or weekly video theme, or various "watches" that they do, and I thought to myself: "You know, Portly, you could do that. You could have some kind of theme -- a trademark kind of a thingy."

Then I answered a QOD at Shakesville (Question of the Day -- see? that's one of those trademark kind of thingys) -- a QOD about what single sentence summed up your personal political philosophy. I answered with this: "See what is, and do what works" -- and Voila! I knew exactly what I wanted to adopt as a ongoing series/trademark:

SNTDBIDW (pronounced Snot-od-bidow) -- Shit Not To Do Because It Doesn't Work.

I thought about calling the theme: "Pet Peeves", but I realized that this simply did not cut the mustard for me -- I didn't just want to talk about shit that pisses me off -- I wanted to get to the bottom of why it pissed me off, and why I don't want to do it, and why I don't want anyone else to do it.

I already had a list of SNTDBIDW that I had adopted for myself, and in examining that list, I realized that nearly all of them were either a) things that I had tried repeatedly with ineffective or disastrous results, or b) things that I had seen being tried repeatedly by others with ineffective or disastrous results.

When I was younger, I tried out many different forms and systems of "self-discipline", "morality", "philosophy", and "ethics". I always wanted to be a "good" person, but found that the definition of what it means to be a "good" person was so completely fluid from culture to culture, group to group, etc., that this was actually a very crappy guide as an approach to a consistent and effective system of personal ethics or pinciples.

So, I began to approach my personal ethics/principles much more from this basis:

"Does this choice/thought/speech/action actually produce the result that I say I want to produce?"

In other words: Does it work?

I decided to leave good/bad/right/wrong out of it -- and frankly, it's been a huge relief.

Hence, I will be offering my new "theme" (SNTDBIDW) from that standpoint. I will actually name the Shit Not To Do, but I will also offer my insights on why the SNTD doesn't "work" (doesn't produce the result it claims-to/wants-to produce).

Here's my starting example in Shit Not To Do Because It Doesn't Work:

Talking About People Behind Their Backs
OR
Complaining to General Mills When You Have a Problem With General Motors

We all "know" that we "shouldn't" talk about other people behind their backs. Taken from a purely culturally "moral" perspective, we all "know" that doing this means that we're back-bitey, and two-faced, and gossipy, and "bad".

Taken from a purely internal experiential perspective, I think it also probably scares us a bit (or maybe even scares us a lot), because there's always the possibility that our back-bitey, two-faced, gossipy-ness might actually "get back" to the person that we've talked about -- and if we have any sort of relationship to the person we're back-biting, that shit is probably going to result in either a) an uncomfortable confrontation with that person, or b) a slow icing-over of said relationship.

In fact, I believe that the closer the relationship you might have with the person that you are talking about (but not to), the more scared you'll probably feel, because there is more at stake for you when the inevitable shit hits the inescapable fan.

But I'd like to offer you a better reason for not talking about people (rather than to them), when you have a complaint or a bitch or a problem with them -- and that reason is:

Because It Doesn't Work.

If I have a problem with my car, and I write a letter to my cereal manufacturer, chances are very good that said letter will be so much wasted time, energy, paper, and ink.

Cereal-Manufacturer might even write me a letter back, saying how right I am about how crappy Car-Maker is, and how my outrage is completely justified, and what a dip-shit Car-Maker has been, and always will be.

Then, maybe I'll write a letter back to Cereal-Manufacturer, and say: "Yeah, and you know what ELSE Car-Maker has done to me? Blah, blah, blah de blah-blah!!!!!!" And we might carry this correspondance on for days or weeks or months or years.

But my car will still be broken.

And Car-Maker will never know I have a problem with them.

Let's compound this a bit, now, and say that Car-Maker is my neighbor, and not only am I not writing them my letter of complaint or talking to them about my broken car, but every morning, I walk out of my house and greet them with a cheery "Good Morning! And in case I don't see you, good afternoon, good evening, and good night!" -- and then we smile and wave to each other.

Now let's say that Cereal-Manufacturer and I get each other all worked up with our letters, and start blogging about how crappy Car-Maker is, and enlisting others into the CarMakerSucks.com website, so that they, too, can contribute their stories of how completely Car-Maker sucks.

Then let's imagine that Car-Maker is doing what we all do at some point or another -- Googling "Car-Maker", just to have that internet affirmation of their own virtual existence (admit it -- you do it, too), and they stumble upon CarMakerSucks.com, and start reading the blog-posts and the comments where we and our enlisted others ream Car-Maker a new one, and all sorts of thoughts cascade through Car-Maker's mind:

"WTF?"
"They never told me they had a problem."
"If they didn't tell me this, what else haven't they told me?"
"That person can't be trusted."
"That person is a fuckhead."
"That person isn't really interested in getting their car fixed -- they're just trying to ruin my reputation"

However colored with cultural/moral judgments some of Car-Maker's thoughts may be, some actual "That doesn't work" facts remain:

1. My car is still broken.
2. The likelihood that Car-Maker would ever want to fix my car is probably greatly reduced at this point.
3. The likelihood that Car-Maker will ever believe another fucking thing I say to them is probably also greatly reduced at this point.

So, if my real intention was to get my car fixed, I have done something that is actually completely counter-productive to furthering that intention.

I have adopted a personal precept in the past ten years -- a precept which I do not practice perfectly by any means, but which I strive to adhere to and improve with every day -- and here it is:

If I am involved in any relationship in which I claim that I want to experience connection, I will refrain from saying anything about that person that I would not also speak willingly and forthrightly to their face.

I chose this precept because I've found that it works (when I adhere to it) -- it works to create and expand the sense of connectedness that I say I want to experience in my life, and in my relationships.

I also chose it because I'm a big promoter of the Golden Rule, and I hate it when people talk about me rather than to me, so I figure that I have to refrain from doing things to others that I don't like being done to me.

I fuck up with this precept often, but when I do, I come back to adherance by remembering how to fuck up.

Now, there is the possibility that you might actually have written to Car-Maker in the first place, and they didn't fix your car, and you're pissed -- but in that case, tell them that you're putting up CarMakerSucks.com ---------- and stop fucking waving to them in the morning.

Here's the thing: When we bitch about someone else, it's usually because we want them to change something -- but if we never tell them what we want them to change, or we only talk about it behind closed doors with people who are not them -- then it's just energy and time and focus and talking and paper and ink and bandwidth that we're wasting when we think/talk/write about them -- and, quite likely, simply another example of SNTDBIDW.

Posted byPortlyDyke at 11:15 PM 2 comments  

Everything I Have to Say About Sarah Palin
Wednesday, September 17, 2008

(In response to a suggestion/request from a reader in comments.)

She was chosen as a ploy. Period. Nothing more. In my humble opinion, there is no need to discredit her, disparage her, or dissect her.

She'll do that on her own.

Posted byPortlyDyke at 9:42 PM 3 comments