Mount Ultralympus

The Greeks imagined a pantheon of superheroes who had enormous power, but were fairly dumb. Those gods fought each other over petty annoyances, and let their anger spill onto mortal reality. They were, in fact, a pretty good explanation of how fate works .

Mount Olympus failed to hold up to a vision of heaven ruled by a just Middle Eastern absolute monarch. Everything then could be explained as ineffable divine will, with rewards for the just in the eternity beyond death .

Now we have come full circle. The ultrawealthy are just as powerful a clique as the Olympian gods ever were. Also just as stupid and petty, bickering amongst themselves, scattering mortals into misery as they work out their indulgent irritations. Some are more powerful than others, some true colossi, some mere half breed god/mortals .

To understand the ultrawealthy it is simply necessary to be fluent in ancient Greek mythology. The parallels are quite amazing, and would be amusing if they did not terrify us quite so much. But abuse of power comes with the territory .

Like those Greeks, we know we cannot control the gods. We can only try to placate them. In the good old days it was by offering sacrifices like oxen, today it is an equivalent cutting of taxes .

Like the Olympic gods, the ultra wealthier are having their moment. We shall see if anything arises to replace them .

Bartleby

Melville’s office clerk began to increasingly tell his employer “I would prefer not to”. Eventually he became unemployable. I find myself in a similar frame of mind. Although the “employer” side of my brain is equally horrified .

There are an awful lot of “terrible things” trying to gain our attention each moment. As massive as a dinosaur asteroid, as ultimate as a bioengineered plague. As tiny as residue cellular pesticides. As improbable as effects by electromagnetic environments. Partisans keep screaming I must know about these things! “We must do something !”

“I would prefer not to”. I don’t mind so much learning of people’s fears. They can be entertaining. Perhaps some are true, perhaps fewer have any importance. But I am convinced there is little I can affect. So I let them slide by without impact on my emotions or daily happiness .

It’s an old philosophy, encountered at all times and everywhere. Stoic acceptance and withdrawal. Religious mystics from ancient India to Catholic monks. Sit quietly as the world turns and burns.

And yet – life is magnificent and precious, and what we do can matter locally. Each moment counts in our universe. Not caring or moving at all is death, and early rejection of the gift of life.

That’s my employer mind talking, of course. It is right.

Sometimes.

Global Crossing Redux

Around 2000, I was working in a relatively high-tech company. All my colleagues were poised to get rich. They’d invested in all the upcoming technology stocks. The future would be golden .

Most were internet related. For the cautious, Microsoft was solid but turning into a has-been. Apple was there for the daring. But most dreams centered on the magic rockets like AOL or Yahoo. Speculative dreams pursued the “name territory” like Pets.com (nobody was using search engines so easily remembered names were the wave of the future). Beanie Babies were the bitcoin of those times. So many folks told me they knew their retirement and children’s college were set .

Of course they were partisans of their picks. They did not understand the venture capitalist truth that one must invest in a lot of losers to hope for one massive hit. They knew that they knew .

A lot of IPO issuances were springing up all the time. Ultimately buzz centered on ” Global Crossing” – a fiber optic company. Whispers in the hallway. Clandestine peeks at moments on the company terminals. Advice. Certainty of payoff. How could they miss?

Of course – well – the “dot.com crash”. Most startups vanished as most startups do, carrying their stocks to the bottom like the Titanic. Twenty years later GlobalCcrossing was an okay investment. But most speculators had gone down with the ships .

Oh, I forgot, the past does not predict the future ,,,

Bugs and Features

When I was writing software and something unexpected would result, we’d laughingly claim “it’s not a bug, it’s a feature!” I’ve often applied the same logic to my own life, rather than complaining about things that usually cannot be fixed.

For example, I’ve always been nearsighted. I actually enjoy taking my glasses off to view the world in a different way. Lines and shapes may be blurred, but other things such as colors are richer and I often notice different focal points .

Being short is hardly fun in this culture, but it did keep me out of trouble since I knew I would lose any fight I was in. My genes fit my size well to keep me mostly healthy, and lately it’s been a blessing to be small in cramped spaces like airplane seats. And, often, it is useful to be unnoticed and non-threatening .

The various degradations and pains of advancing age are never any fun, but if they are minor and temporary they do remind me to appreciate whatever remains. Nothing makes one appreciate normal teeth more than a toothache .

Admittedly it is a shallow, pollyannish or Panglossian view of “the best of all possible worlds” But like many philosophies, when it fits it works very well. Why waste time cursing fate, or gnawing outlook with envy? Some ambition is useful, some anger cathartic, some pain unbearable. But for the rest – well I prefer to try to change perspective .

Features, not bugs!

Tick Terror

Lately a litany of ills has people around here huddling inside in fear. Deadly fevers from mosquitoes, flesh eating bacteria in the water, invisible plagues in the air. Ticks with strange and horrible diseases .

The common denominator is that the culprits are tiny or invisible. Also ubiquitous if you are in the wrong area. It’s quite difficult to avoid water at the beach, air on the patio, or grass in the park.

Ticks are my favorite public overreaction. Mosquitoes invisibly come from anywhere and bite you right away, germs are generally thinly dispersed, flesh eating is quite rare. Ticks cannot run, jump, nor fly. They’re quite slow and deliberate, and take a pretty long time to climb to wherever they want, dig in, and begin to feed. Lots of opportunity to find and get rid of them if you look.

But folks imagine them as some miniscule land variant of the great white shark. Stalking the grasslands ready to pounce. Dropping from the sky on the unwary. Cleverly racing up legs to hide under socks or shorts. Evolving to be impervious to insect repellent .

The good news for me is that most park visitors remain on paved road. To them, grass is toxic, woodland trails forbidden. I ignore the signs and check now and then, always when I have finished my hike. No problem. But – well – the trails are lovely and empty for us adventurous types, apparently courting death or worse . I often receive incredulous stares from the crowds on the macadam.

As I often tell my 10-year-old grandson, the great thing to be really truly afraid of here on Long Island is not ticks, mosquitoes, bacteria, or sharks, but cars and the impatient maniacs who drive them.

Equilibrium

Balance and equilibrium are often regarded as synonymous, but I regard balance as more static, equilibrium as dynamic. A rock perched on a pinnacle is balanced. A healthy pond is in equilibrium.

That boulder will not move until something disturbs it. A tightrope walker, on the other hand, maintains equilibrium with constant adjustments or plummets off the wire.

So when we are told to balance our lives, it’s not very useful. Maintaining dynamic social and personal equilibrium is what’s essential. Work, friends, wealth, health, and so – all the usual suspects in constant movement, tension, countertension, and adjustment .

I realize that I’ve exaggerated somewhat. But my point is that whatever one labels it, the condition is fragile and when lost hard to regain. Once that boulder rolls into the valley it would take stupendous and often impossible effort to put it back. As far as a tightrope walker …

We live in a crowded world of homeostasis where we usually take equilibrium for granted. Sometimes that causes us to do rash things with consequences far beyond what we intend with one relatively minor effort. Once equilibrium is destroyed it may never return in the same form. Just review any ongoing ecological or social disaster .

I’m grateful for the massive, seemingly effortless, equilibriums in my own life, and try to be conscious of how fragile they are .

Certainly Flexible

In our teenage years, we become convinced we know everything and are consequently certain we are always right. We may learn more as time goes on, we may change our minds, but we remain just as certain all the time.

Science constantly tries to break this tendency. The worst scientist is one who knows what, how, and why. In many other careers, it is equally important to acquire knowledge, apply it, think out of the box, and flexibly move on to better understanding .

On the other hand, in society and politics, changing one’s mind is a “flip-flop” and a sign of horrible dishonesty. “How can you have deceived me so?” Friends, families, elected representatives are supposed to remain frozen in attitude and belief, as we once thought we knew them .

It’s understandable. After all, the core of a society must be relatively conservative to function at all. We need to believe that lives have fundamental organization. Total chaos is unsustainable .

The only thing worse than an ongoing movement in what we are certain of, is to be frozen at one point until a sudden internal revelation forces us to reject all that we know, start over, and be absolutely certain, once again, that we are right in whatever new belief.

Like most of our leaders .

Aging Sitcom

One of my semi-schizophrenic personalities has always enjoyed viewing my life as an ongoing situational comedy. Sometimes an office nerd, sometimes a “father knows best”, sometimes a secret Van Gogh. Currently, I play the star role as a bumbling senior gradually losing his edge .

Surely it’s helpful to laugh at the minor problems that come with age, rather than raging against the inevitable. Not finding the right word is common with anyone, but frequent as I near eighty. I walk in a room and wonder why I am there. I miss the usual moves in the kitchen. I stumble when I stop paying attention. And I often sit, doing little, not even wanting to do more. All that can only make me smile. Another cute episode .

Fortunately, I’ve been spared real tragedy so far. That will require a different viewpoint, I suppose. Although media long ago learned to twist horror into entertainment . Perhaps my secret selves will be able to do the same .

In the meantime, the laugh track adds spice and softens fear. I regard it as part of the glorious ability to enjoy a constantly changing existence . So I am more forgetful, clumsier, or less ambitious. Hopefully not too dull. Each day, hopefully, to be continued. Not at all ready for the grand finale yet .

Now, exactly where was I? And what was I trying to say?

No matter, chuckle and move along .

Life Luck

Obviously people are born into different situations, endowed with certain traits. Equally obviously, they are buffeted throughout life by good and bad events. Religions may variously assign this to a karma of rebirth, God, universal plan, or other mysticism, but even the most fanatic admit that it is unknowable and hence as irrelevant as its apparent randomness.

Most folks have some control over their own lives. But a brilliant beautiful wellborn woman has different options than a stupid ugly diseased man. Anyone born wealthy in a stable rich society will face different choices than another born into war-torn misery .

That is the luck of human life. Many of us believe that it is the role of society to aid the disadvantaged and to harness the skills and resources of the well-off to do so. We have taken to calling such ambition “civilization”, whatever that term may have meant in the past .

I do accept that people should be rewarded for good actions, especially those that make life better. There are a great variety of ways to do so, and generally reward should flow to the most innovative, ambitious, and hardworking. With two caveats .

First, always recognizing the role of luck, constantly compensate by leveling outcomes from the fortunate to the unfortunate .

Second, never mistake the fortunate few for the purpose of the universe .

Life is universally a gift, but not equally supported, nor equally the result of individual actions .

Babies and Puppies

Advertisers know that big eyes sell. Slap a picture of a baby or a puppy on a product and more people will buy it. Most of us can scarcely resist those cute expressions, and we get a rush of endorphins just looking at them .

Nature probably evolved this in certain mammalian species (especially primates) which have young who require extended care. Humans then tended to breed dogs whose puppies were more appealing. In both cases, the cutest survived.

Social causes have now become deeply entangled with standard advertising. In particular, anti-abortion groups always picture helpless human infants as those being “murdered”. In truth of course most modern abortion involves discarding a lump of mostly formless tissue .

Ah, but the potential… Unsurprisingly anti-abortion never mentions surly teenagers nor terrifying criminals who may result from the rescue.

After babies grow up to be surly teenagers, hardened criminals, nasty insane terrorists, or just people we dislike, we have little trouble handling them roughly. “Pro-life” can be code for a social movement to preserve the “right people”.

Of course the crusaders are sincere. After all, they’ve seen the cuddly pictures on the propaganda media.