Earth at Night

Today’s post comes from Captain Billy of the Muskellunge.

Ahoy!

Me an me boys is mighty pleased t’ see that them scientists at NASA is finally startin’ t’ look at th’ planet Earth through pirate eyes! They has just released brand new detailed pictures of our world after dark, wi’ the sparlklin’ lights of th’ cities glowin’ fer all t’ see!

There’s lots of bright spots, an that gives us hope!

Dividin’ th’ light from th’ dark is th’ same method me an’ me boys uses t’ tell the th’ planet’s booty-rich zones from them what don’t have much booty at all. When we’s sailin’ down th’ coast, deliberatin’ about where t’ go scavengin’ next, we always heads t’ th’ light. Just like yer sposed to do in them dreams about dyin’.

An when we arrives at th’ next happy, well-lit place wi’ our daggers drawn, th’ people is always surprised on account of they didn’t notice us comin’ – they was blinded by their own glare. That there’s somethin’ t’ keep in mind on a planet-wide level.

Our Earth is mighty special-lookin’ from afar – quite attractive t’ interstellar swashbucklers.

I ain’t sayin’ there’s space pirates. But I ain’t sayin’ there ain’t. Th’ sort of person what goes into space used t’ be th’ unselfish, disciplined kind. But the standards has been lowered by quite a bit.

That’s all I wanted t’ say. The twinklin’ lights is pretty at night. But if you wants t’ keep th’ peace, best to draw yer blinds an’ sleep wi’ one eye open!

Yer seafarin’ pal,
Capt. Billy

I suppose the Captain has a point – hiding your light under a bushel is sometimes the most prudent thing to do.

Are you an electricity waster?

Dave Brubeck R.I.P.

One year ago today we observed Dave Brubeck’s 91st birthday.

Brubeck died yesterday and has been the subject of many remembrances and tributes. We’re sorry to see him go but there’s no question he used his time well and made a lasting impression. It will never be possible to measure the effect of his work on subsequent generations, but there’s a sense of it in these two videos posted on You Tube by his son, Chris.

The first is a performance recorded in June of 2011 where Dave makes a guest appearance with his son’s band. The Master comes out on stage to an ovation about 3 minutes into the recording.

And here’s a video of Dave and Chris talking about Ansel Adams, the photographer. They put together a symphonic piece for orchestras to play while Adams’ photographs are projected for the audience. Sounds majestic. But I particularly like the story they tell about Dave’s youth in northern California.

Musicians are composers. Photographers are composers. Talking about the similarities between the two art forms, Dave Brubeck said “That’s what you do as a composer – you develop a theme.”

Maybe we’re all composers in one way or another.

What themes have you developed?

Loose Lips Mock Cliffs

At ease, civilians!

But watch your language when it comes to casual talk about “going over the fiscal cliff”. We Public Safety Enthusiasts are alarmed at the decision by those who frame our discussions this way. To call the upcoming budget deadline a “Fiscal Cliff” does not give enough credit to cliffs!

No Cliff Talk!
No Cliff Talk!

A real cliff is a very serious thing indeed. Real cliffs don’t discriminate between the rich and the poor. They are not indexed and there are no exemptions. Think of a cliff as the sudden withdrawal of terrestrial support while gravity remain in place and is as vigorous as ever.

Can we survive without earth under our feet? I say no! This is undeniable. Instead, pundits gab with mock seriousness about “going over”.

This kind of talk creates what is widely known as a reverse visioning hazard. We already understand that visioning is a key principle in leading an organization – helping people “see” their future in order to make it happen. The more we envision a thing, like going over a cliff together, the closer it comes to reality.

And what if we DO go over the “cliff”, and it turns out to be Not That Bad? Suddenly, cliffs become part of the everyday lexicon, and “going over” is just something you do every now and then. No big deal? Wrong! Let’s make sure cliffs remain dreadful. We should speak of them in hushed tones, and stay away from every kind – figurative, fiscal, and physical. That’s my advice!

Yours in groundedness,
B.S.O. Rafferty

Have you ever gotten over a useful, protective fear?

Frack Attack

Today’s post comes from Wally, proprietor of Wally’s Intimida – home of the world’s largest SUV, the Sherpa.

Hello potential Sherpa buyers! I am intensely interested in you as long as you don’t have a Sherpa Sport Utility Vehicle. Because you represent a challenge to me – I simply can’t comprehend why you haven’t bought an Intimida yet!

I see that in the wake of Hurricane Sandy and the 2012 election, east coast people feel empowered to go car buying. Not just shopping – buying! That’s how they do things out east – if the car is busted, they don’t mess around. Fix it or replace it. Boom! And what better vehicle to get as your Hurricane Response Car than a Sherpa from Intimida! The Sherpa is massive and immovable – as stubborn as Republicans when it comes to Taxing the Rich!

For you non-natural-disaster-victims (just wait!), the Sherpa is still a great buy because it can be ordered with the new Curiosity package to mimic all the great options that came factory-installed on NASA’s Mars Curiosity Rover! The Sherpa Curiosity has back up cameras, move forward cameras, coming-down-from-the-sky cameras, and just looking around cameras.

Sherpa_Frack

And it’s got its own Fracking Package, complete with a soil sampling shovel, a collapsible front-mounted drill rig, roof derrick and portable high pressure injection components. Now, when your Sherpa’s gas tank dwindles to “empty” in the forsaken wilderness of western North Dakota, you can roll out the necessary equipment to test, puncture, and fill the Earth with water sand and chemicals to force natural gas and petroleum out of the cracks between the shale.

And with its own onboard refinery, the Sherpa can turn that oil into fuel that will make it possible for you to leave North Dakota under your own power!

Imagine that – you’ll never have to stop at a gas pump again – just use the Sherpa’s hydraulic assist to insert your mechanical straw into the ground like you would push it through a plastic lid. Then simply draw energy out in the same way you might take a drink from a giant Slurpee! A giant Slurpee that happens to be on fire!

Your onboard shovel might also dig up signs of organic material underneath your Sherpa – something the Mars Curiosity Rover has not yet been able to do! And unlike the Rover, the Sherpa has the ability to kill everything it passes over – even stuff that was never alive to begin with, like cold, red Martian sand.

Hurricane Sandy and the Mars Lander make it official – America is car crazy again! Go out and buy one today – immediately! I mean it – don’t think too much. ACT!

I’m waiting to see you in the showroom.

Your friend,
Wally

Describe a memorable impulse buy. One that turned out to be good!

Men in Tights

Today is the anniversary of the debut of the musical Camelot on Broadway in 1960.

There is some comfort in this story for those who fear that if things start off badly, they will end badly too.

In its out-of-town productions, Camelot was a mess, far too long, disorganized and overly wordy. The director had a heart attack and the playwright/lyricist was hospitalized. Scenes were cut and songs were added and removed with little notice. But the music was great and the cast recording became the number one selling album in America for more than a year – a thought that is laughable today. Powerful casting and timely performances on the Ed Sullivan Show helped make it a success.

And no one could sing this song like Robert Goulet.

EPSON MFP image

Goulet exuded so much manliness in the role of Lancelot, he temporarily made it OK for young men to wear tights (as long as it was understood by everyone that there was no enjoyment in it – this was simply part of the job). There were plenty of high school stagings in subsequent years where the Lancelot aura provided some cover for teenage boys, including the Macon High School production of 1973.

You can see by my face that I have momentarily lost my Goulet-inspired confidence, and am looking for an exit.

Years later I met Robert Goulet when he came in for a radio interview. He exuded all the joie du vivre I expected from him, and though he was 70 years old and in his third marriage, he flirted with our young red-haired receptionist and whispered to me as he left, “that’s my kind of woman”!

Of course I told her, and she was delighted to hear it. It’s not every day that a genuine star takes a fancy to you. I wonder if she would have felt the same way, had he been wearing his tights.

Describe a time you’ve felt self-concious about your clothes.

Power Ball Prayer

A strong argument can be made that winning a huge lottery jackpot is much more damaging than not winning one.

If, in fact, that’s true, then the losers are the winners and the poor saps who wound up with the choice tickets in the recent Powerball drawing are mere weeks, or even just hours away from being rewarded with the total destruction of their once-happy lives.

We have already met the earnest unfortunates who bought a winning ticket in Missouri. The soon-to-be tragic sufferer who bought a similar ticket in Arizona is still unknown, but we might have video of him celebrating in Maryland.

There are numerous examples of the sort of mayhem the sudden addition of mega millions can bring to an ordinary family. We already know gambling can become addictive and prolonged losing ruins good people. It appears winning can, too.

And yet folks continue to buy tickets, hoping that they will walk away with the most outrageous possible prize. Perhaps for those compelled to play, a short, expectation adjusting prayer is in order.

Now I buy me one more chance
I pray these numbers make me dance
Though not so much I play the fool
But just enough to keep me cool
With modest winnings I can spend
On things I won’t need to defend
Too small to get me on the news
But just enough for food and shoes
and something special for my spouse
and maybe to fix up the house.
I’ll dream of mega millions, Lord,
Though that’s more than I can afford.

When have you been better off to lose?

A Song That Sums It All Up

Baboons provided an eye-opening discussion yesterday on the topic of whether or not they would want to be immortal. If you haven’t read the comments, take a look.

My assessment – mixed feelings though a clear majority of the group voted “No”!

There were some wafflers, mostly conflicted over the trade-offs and what else might come along as part of the immortality bargain. After all, living forever is a whole lot more attractive if it comes with a guarantee that your eternity will be spent healthy and pain-free.

And then Steve posted this comment …

… which made me think of a song by Harry Nilsson that has been a favorite since I first heard it when I was 18 years old. Nilsson recorded the song with a boisterous chorus of senior citizens singing along with a piano, an accordion and a tuba.

I often wondered as I listened to the song how those old people really felt about the lyrics – after all, “I’d Rather Be Dead (Than Wet My Bed)” is a rather cheeky sentiment to put in the mouths of octogenarians. Then I found this clip from a Nilsson documentary on You Tube and learned the amazing secret of making the session enjoyable for everyone – a new suit for Harry, and lots of sherry for everyone else!

Name a song you would have to be drunk to sing in public.

Immortality or Bust!

News goes in cycles and the nature of the stuff that interests us ebbs and flows, but immortality is always a hot topic especially when it’s presented as something that is almost within reach.

Drat the luck if people figure out how to live forever the day after I fall off a ladder while hanging Christmas lights!

Three years ago, inventor Ray Kurzweil said immortality was 20 years away. That’s a humbling number for anyone over or around 60. Kurzweil is taking no chances with his own bid to live forever. This 2008 article in Wired described his elaborate regimen of clinic visits and supplements intended to bolster his health until “the singularity” arrives, when intelligent machines take over and provide a vital assist to keep their biological buddies (us), perpetually present.

Best of luck, Mr. K.

If you can’t wait for your chance to become a citizen cyborg, there’s always the tantalizing hope offered by an enzyme discovered in an Australian pond by molecular biologist Elizabeth Blackburn. Not only did she get to share a Nobel Prize for her work, she got a nifty 45 minute program on the Smithsonian channel.

But if Blackburn’s enzyme doesn’t spark your dreams of endless longevity, how about jellyfish? This past Sunday, the New York Times Magazine ran an extremely long article that’s getting lots of interest right now, about a creature called Turritopsis dohrnii, also known as the Immortal Jellyfish.

I confess I haven’t read any of Kurzweil’s books, watched the complete Smithsonian program, or done more than skim through the Times article. Anyone who wants to stay up to date on all the different ways we might become immortal will need to have a lot of extra free time to take it all in.

But my favorite thing about the jellyfish story (when it’s too old to live, Turritopsis dohrnii “ages backwards”, returning to it’s polyp stage so it can start over again) is the character who turns out to be one of the world’s leading experts on the creature.

Dr. Shin Kubota of Japan is living this life like he gets only one shot at it. He’s not merely a scientist, he’s a karaoke enthusiast (two hours each day!) and a songwriter. This isn’t a sideline – the music is part of his fascination with immortality. Here’s a quote from the Times article:

“We must love plants — without plants we cannot live. We must love bacteria — without decomposition our bodies can’t go back to the earth. If everyone learns to love living organisms, there will be no crime. No murder. No suicide. Spiritual change is needed. And the most simple way to achieve this is through song.”

Here’s how you know he’s not your typical scientist. He goes on TV, wearing a jellyfish hat, to sing songs he has written about Turritopsis dohrnii.

This is called “Scarlet Medusa Chorus”.

The Times didn’t provide a translation, but Sarah Laskow posted some of the words in Grist.

My name is Scarlet Medusa,
A teeny tiny jellyfish
But I have a special secret
that no others may possess
I can — yes, I can! — rejuvenate

Not the greatest lyrics, but if Kubota’s research pans out, he’ll have forever to do the revisions.

Would you want to live forever?

HB, RN

I’m a Randy Newman fan, and today is his birthday.
It’s a good reason to spend too much time online listening to amazing songs with wonderfully catchy piano riffs, like this one.

Newman writes about religion more than any songwriter I know, and with more nuance than anyone who addresses the topic, period. All in just over three minutes.

But lest you think Randy Newman blames God for all our problems, here’s one where he makes a point of NOT pointing a finger heavenward.

Newman’s song about his upbringing in L.A. And New Orleans is called Dixie Flyer, after a train linking the cities.

What name would you give to a song about your childhood?

Not The Boss of Me!

Today’s post comes from perennial sophomore Bubby Spamden.

Hey, Mr. C.!

I was thinking of you today in homeroom because Mr. Boozenporn forces us to talk about The News of the Day. Once each week every student in the room is supposed to get up and talk for five minutes about something they heard or read or saw in the media, so just like real journalists (you?), we have to put on our Serious Faces and Pretend We’re Interested.

Anyway, there’s this one kid, Ahmad, who always talks about stuff going on in other countries, and today he started going on about what’s happening in Egypt with the president there. I guess the country’s new leader, Mr. Morsi, just got up one day last week and announced that he’d decided something important about his decisions – that from now until sometime in the future nobody can un-decide him, not even the courts. Ahmad called it a power grab, and believe it or not, something about that just kind of clicked with me and I didn’t have to pretend to be interested anymore.

Because I didn’t know you could do that! That’s awesome!

I’ve been kind of pushing back against authority my whole life, but always in subtle, smart-alecky ways. And I think in a bid to turn me around, Ms. Flippen got me appointed a bus cop, so I have some responsibility now on the bus to enforce the rules and watch over the younger kids. And it is kind of cool to have some power and some status, but it bugs me that I’m still not the biggest boss on the bus. I have to obey Mr. Ralphs, the driver, and he’s a control freak. He’s always looking in the mirror! Isn’t he supposed to look forward sometimes?

What I’d really like to do is what Morsi did – just tell everybody how it’s going to be. Mr. Ralphs just drives the bus – I’m the only law that matters from the yellow “Don’t Cross This Line While the Bus Is Moving” line all the way back to the emergency exit. I’ll make all the calls, and I dare them to try to tell me otherwise.

Of course, Morsi’s got thousands of people marching around in the streets of Cairo, doing just that. But I figure if I’m sly about it and don’t come out with it as an announcement but just think the new rules and keep it inside my head, I’ll be able to get away with a total one-man revolution!

What do you think? Should I try it?

Your pal,
Bubby

I told Bubby the more power one grabs, the less easy one rests. Shakespeare wrote about that pretty much nonstop. But if he can keep the political insurrection inside his brain and not go blabbing to everybody about his superior powers, Bubby will probably just come off as smug and self-important, which doesn’t make a guy stand out in a crowd these days. Par for the course, as they say.

Thousands of people are in the streets, chanting that you’re a tyrant. What do you say (or do) to change their minds?