Glad I’m Me

Some mornings I wake up simply thrilled to be me, alive and conscious in this time and place. I once had a colleague who described life as “a vacation from eternity”. Today I would agree with him .

Like most of our evaluations, I suppose this attitude is simply an illusion. Nothing rational about it. Logic can always pick out problems – past present and future. But from my current perspective, the illusion is more real and meaningful than logic. I cherish it .

No doubt many others would mock my happiness as simply the advancing incapacity of old age. Our facilities weaken, so we wallow in imaginary nostalgia, thinking our sorry lives were rich and meaningful. Fortunately, I rarely care what others – especially the pessimists and gloomers – think about me. They are free to frolic in their depressing visions – which I tend to believe are also illusions .

Nah, I’m not that far around the bend. I know the world has problems. I’m aware I have my own. But on some days, as the sunshine streams in the window, I can just forget all that and happily play in the enchanting glory of being alive here at this exact moment.

Snowstorm

In this colder than normal winter, another large snowstorm has covered the area. It gives me a chance to reflect on my luck in living when and where I do .

Aboriginal inhabitants of America are often pictured in summer, and described as inhabiting Eden. Early colonists are shown as snug in log cabins. But in fact there was illness and famine, rarely enough heat, and little to do but wait out the season and hope for spring. Even a hundred years or so back there was often no electricity .

I now inhabit paradise. I expect there to be constant warmth, light, entertainment. Too much food, always fresh fruit and vegetables. Medical aid reliably available. People think it’s a great inconvenience to be “stuck at home” for even a day .

Until ten years or so ago I had to shovel a large driveway, but now I just walk behind my machine .

It’s always good to appreciate the best times, the finest weather. But perhaps it is more appropriate to give thanks for our technology and civilization when the natural world is less kindly. This morning I certainly do so .

Ain’t What You Do

As the old song goes “ain’t what you do, it’s the way what you do it.” We have come to recognize the value of those lyrics in these days of a clumsy, brutalist federal government. Maybe what they are doing is not strictly “illegal” – although that is open to question – but the manner in which they carry out activities is simply awful and completely out of step with the traditions of this culture .

The president is a loose cannon. Taking outrageous positions, annoying or horrifying everyone, then forgetting what he was trying to do. His asymptotic hyperbole – anyone who disagrees with his current thinking is foul evil incarnate for a day or so. He must be stroked and praised or he throws a tantrum. We’re not used to that in the US .

And, of course, we have the focal point of ICE, a law enforcement body whose members have no resemblance in appearance nor deed to any police here in the past. To begin with they assume their target is guilty, violent, and vicious (with no evidence whatsoever) and pretend they are engaged in a dangerous heroic act as they haul away frightened men, women, and children whose only fault is to be around when a quota comes due .

There are, and were, civilized and less provocative ways to do this. We used to call it “rule of law” and “due process.” The appropriate terminology now might be “fear and awe”. Or simply “terror” .

Certification

The aristocratic elites always have a reason for their position at the top of society. Once upon a time it was “divine will” or “blue blood”. Now it is “merit” as if each child has an equal chance to become one of the people the elite are looking for in the next generation. What they are looking for mostly is people just like them …

In any system the extremely competent or extremely lucky have a small but finite chance to rise up a class or two. Until recently much of that ladder was financial worth, another favorite tradition of aristocrats .

Meanwhile, the lesser folks also sought some means of security, however humble. Once it was guilds, or the trade your father did. Recently, much was directed at “certification” .

Certification is simply a disguised guild system. In today’s economy and information age it is largely irrelevant. But legal requirements provide a useful barrier to entry to anyone trying to break into the club. Costs and time keep the riffraff at bay almost as well as “merit” insulates the wealthy. Mostly, it services the shrinking “middle class”. Oh, it all works, it seems. Always has. Society needs to use stuff like this to accommodate individuals. But a Martian ethnologist would surely have fun observing and writing its term paper .

Alfred the Great

And now for something completely different ,,,

Periodically I get an urge to read a biography or two. I just finished a long book about William Randolph Hearst, inspired by catching a flash of Citizen Kane on cable. Fortunately, I can borrow all this stuff from the library on my Kindle. Then I had a notion to learn more about Alfred the Great .

I like French history but I have always found the English equivalent to be more disjointed. Celts Saxons Romans Danes French _  cut-offs and new starts. So I searched the library – nothing but romantic novels. Books are available, of course, at a price – an electronic download now costs as much or more as a paper book. Fortunately there is project Gutenberg, which has massive stores of old writing (out of copyright) of just about anything. So I am using a nice nearly Victorian treatment of the subject .

I haven’t learned a lot about Alfred yet. But I have learned an awful lot about disentangling legend from fact. This historian is at great pains to do so. To be fair, so was the Hearst biographer, but he had only the movie to debunk. Alfred tends to be encrusted like Arthur, or – more appropriately – Charlemagne .

Legend has its place – Shakespeare used it to create immortal literature. But sometimes it is refreshing to sift into dry facts with a historian trying to carefully separate fact from fiction. We could use more of that with our current news .

Fragile AI Dreams

The WSJ and other media are filled with stories and predictions about the “AI revolution”. Some are utopian, some dystopian, some just weird and crazy. But all seem to have one glaring flaw .

That is the fact that AI – unlike life – is quite fragile. All the scenarios I have read assume that somehow things go on as now – lots of power, a connected grid, open communication, government power, social order, no electronic catastrophe (EMP blast, malware, whatever).

None of that is guaranteed, nor even likely .

I sense it as a lot like the advent of the internal combustion engine. Most dreamers saw it as a replacement for a horse. Some maybe understood it had advantages over steam. But nobody foresaw the social dynamics that ensued. Few even understood what it might do to transportation itself – for example to the road infrastructure .

Right now AI is free and exciting. But it can be easily wrecked. I’m not saying it will be, I’m not pretending I know what’s coming .

But I am sure it will be a lot different than what is currently predicted by both admirers and those who worry .