A Good Picture of Charlie and Dee Dee

1
A Good Picture of Charlie and Dee Dee

Charlie is wearing one of my dad's Quality Foods T-shirts. Dad worked for Loblaws, then Quality Foods after Loblaws sold their US operations to Quality.

Dee Dee is a ham in front of the camera.

[2012-07-23]

2
How Our Brains See Men as People and Women as Body Parts: Both Genders Process Images of Men, Women Differently

"...why women are often the targets of sexual objectification." Here's the interesting part (to me): both men and women do this.

Reminds me of something a female colleague told me years ago: Women dress up to impress other women, not men.

Story >

[2012-07-25]

3
Neanderthal 'sister species' interbred with us

“Discovered through a genetic analysis of present-day Africans, the new species appears to have been interbreeding with humans as recently as 20,000 years ago”. Story >

[2012-07-27]

An Excerpt

This is an excerpt from a book I wrote but never published. At the time this take place, Paul is an old patriarch, having been shipwrecked many years before in the South Pacific.

I started the book as a boy, finished it as an adult. When I started, there was still enough undiscovered or poorly mapped areas in the world that one might believe this could happen.

Alas, no more.

A half dozen little children then came running to them, collecting around Paul, producing in the old man an unrestrained grin. Two of the littlest fought for a place on his lap, eventually finding a comfortable seats on each knee. The others stood close, pulling on his cloak and ponytail, mixing their island dialect with pleas of “let me, let me.” ...Paul smiled... drawing the children into a semicircle and putting a finger to his lips.

“Shhhhh…You want to hear a story, don’t you?” They all nodded. “Now, what kind of a story do you want to hear?” he asked hushedly, as if he’d been scolded for talking too loudly, turning his head slowly to meet the eyes of each one in turn.

“A new story!”

“No! An old story!”

“And you, Onoo, what would you like to hear?” asked Paul. Little Onoo, face smudged with mud, knees dark and scraped pink, sat cross-legged and quiet, twisting his mouth below a crinkling nose.

“Do you want to hear a story about a little mouse, Onoo?” Onoo nodded that he did. “Well, it so happens that I know a wise old jungle mouse named Onoo, just like you.”

“You do?” said them all.

“Oh, my, yes. I’ve known old Onoo the mouse for years. He was my first friend. Why, I met old Onoo before I met Hivoa-Hiti. And you know that I’ve known Hivoa-Hiti for a very long time indeed.”

“How long?”

“Oh, a long time, since before any of you were born. Well, you must know that old Onoo had a cousin named Aloysius, who lived right here in your village, and one day he invited Aloysius to his modest home beneath a banana tree in the jungle for a fine feast; why, they had all the fallen breadfruit and bananas that they could eat, those two mice, and they ate and ate and ate until they could eat no more, finally rolling back on a banana leaf and patting their bellies. But Aloysius the village mouse was not happy. `Is this all you have to eat?’ he asked. `In the village we have roasted boar, and fish, and so many nice things that you can’t get in the jungle.’ And so Aloysius invited Onoo over for a feast, and they made plans to meet here, in your village, this very night. Well, they did meet here tonight, and Onoo was just amazed at all the delicious things that Hivoa-Hiti had prepared for you and me. Now just as the two of those mice were about to dine, Mahana chased them into the jungle with a club, old Onoo narrowly avoiding the loss of his tail. Onoo shook Aloysius’ hand and bade goodbye. `You’re leaving so soon?’ asked Aloysius. `Why, we haven’t begun to eat yet.’ `Thank you, cousin,’ said old Onoo, but I much prefer bananas and breadfruit to bludgeons and boar,’ and he left.”

“Really?” asked the children.

Paul swept his arms forward, turning their heads, and pointed to a woman waving a stick at a pair of mice nibbling at her fruits and vegetables; the green switch, usually reserved for the bare bottoms of children, whistled to a silent stop in the sand and sent the mice scampering into the thatch of a nearby hut. The woman called to the children. They said good-bye to Paul and scattered and collected around her like a school of tiny darting fish.

From Straying into Paradise, Charles Cairns

Started: 2012-07-25

Your Baby Can't Read

On July 16, 2012 I watched a segment of the Today Showcalled "Your Baby Can't Read," in which reporter Jeff Rossen confronts the creator of the "Your Baby Can Read" products, Dr Robert Titzer, with expert opinions that his claims are false.[1]

I've raised two children and have a third on the way. I know from my limited exposure to child language acquisition (as part of linguistics, teaching, and watching my own children grow) that babies can't read and are simply not wired that early to do what it seems to adult ears they are doing.

(We do the same thing when we layer human context over animal behavior. Eg, what looks like a response to language must be comprehension: "I asked my dog if she wanted to go outside and she ran to the door, so she must understand English.")

We all badly want to believe some things some times, and we'll appeal to ritual, fortune tellers, or mainstream optimists like Dr Wayne Dyer or Dr Norman Vincent Peale.

You know what you know. Trust your instincts. Wanting something to be so doesn't make it so. But that won't stop you or me from wanting, sometimes so painfully we would rather cease to exist than live without what we most desire.

Most contentment is really acceptance, and most acceptance is resignation painted with a smile. None of that is easy. It's hard work.

Wingdings and silk.[2]

 

[1]
This is Dr Titzer. His company has since gone out of business.

What is the one most important thing you can do to make your baby into a reader? Talk to them from day one and read to them early and often, beyond the time they can read to themselves. I have heard this repeatedly from reputable sources.

The TV won't work, whether it's PBS or snake oil like "Your Baby Can Read." We have to do the talking.

[2]
To devise proverbs requires painful thinking. (Sirach 13:26b)

 

Started: 2012-07-16

Muscular IQ

I frequent a number of sites weekly, including Herculodge (mostly radio and wristwatch discussion, but some interesting asides as well from college professor Jeffrey McMahon), Rethinking Pocket Change (Christopher Jorristma on coin collecting), and succeedbycommunicating.com, maintained by a colleague of mine, Lanny Curtis.

I occasionally comment on Lanny's postings, but one of my most recent was more thought-out than usual. Lanny's article is here: "Communication by Any Other Name...".

My response:

I have heard some philosophers speak of "muscular IQ" in the same way one might refer to mental IQ; ie, that there is an intelligence in physical dexterity that deserves equal credit for excellence as the cognitive variety

A beautiful chair is a good example; an expression like that provides ongoing engagement in a different way than a book or poem or speech (not better, just different).

I wasn't too keen on the muscular intelligence idea when I first heard it, because it was offered in the context of elevating very good athletes to a status we usually reserve for very good scientists, doctors, or artists. (And IMHO athletic ability is already overrated and a distraction to studies that will serve kids better longer.)

But seen in this light, it has an appeal.

The mind and all the language we use to describe it continues to amaze me. There are more euphemisms for mental instability than any other human condition (sex is the 2nd most euphemized). When someone's mind is uniquely sharp, like an Einstein, they are nearly deified, and all sorts of idiosyncrasies are tolerated, even celebrated. But if they are uniquely fractured, no amount of ability in any other way will protect them from ridicule and ostracization.

 

Started: 2012-07-27

Dee Dee Draws Our Family

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Dee Dee Draws Our Family
And adds a friend (Rain) and friend's mom (Christine). I have a beard and moustache because of the way my face scratches when she kisses me after work. Notice the shape of the eyes. Also notice everyone is smiling.

(I had a colleague many years ago who brought in a picture her daughter drew. In the picture, each family member was jumping out of a plane that was on fire. Everyone had a parachute except mommy.)

[2012-07-25]

 

2
New species can evolve in around 6,000 years.

Pentagona [starfish] … float around in the plankton for a few months before settling down and developing into adult sea stars. Hystera [starfish] … give birth to miniature sea stars ready to grow to adulthood. Story

Pentagona and Hystera diverged as early as 6,000 year ago.

[2012-07-25]

3
Story idea: About a man who makes crucifixes and whose job it is to nail little plastic Jesuses to the pieces of wood that make the cross. He goes about town saying “I crucified Jesus today.” Some people think he is mad, others think he is a saint and call him Brother Tappit on account of the sound his little hammer makes as he taps in the nails.

[2012-07-21]

Dee Dee's Toes

1
Dee Dee's toes.
I painted them myself.

.
2
My OED
The Compact Edition of the Oxford English Dictionary is something every lover of language my age wanted at their desk. Four pages are shrunk to fit on one and it comes with a magnifying glass. (A TV remote is shown for scale.) I got this for $29 when signing up for a book club many years ago. I don't believe such things exist anymore, at least not in the same form they once did.

Of course, as new words enter the lexicon, a printed dictionary becomes increasingly dated, but a good etymology is timeless, and there is more language history in these two volumes than I could ever enjoy in ten lifetimes.

For years the OED editors would announce new words being accepted into the dictionary and news outlets would end their broadcasts with them, sometimes with an aw shucks headshake, sometimes with a quizzical smile, as in “my how things have changed.” I haven't seen a story like that for some time.

3
Correction
My son Charlie found the book on Erie I had referred to here (The Closest I'll Ever Get to Immortality in this Lifetime); it's called Erie: Chronicle of a Great Lakes City, and is by Edward Wellejus. I mistakenly said Larry Pintea had collaborated on this book, but I was wrong. Shows what time will do to memory.

This is a very special book, BTW. It's inscribed to me from Mom and Dad, Christmas 1983.

Started: 2012-07-20

James Holmes: Chronology of a Google Image Search on a Trending News Topic

[7:33am - the images aren’t showing up large enough for you to see the detail. I’ll fix today; that’s what you get when you schedule a post and can’t  test it.

8:05am – fixed]

At 8:42am ET on July 20, 2012 I get an MSNBC email news alert: "Breaking news: Colorado shooting suspect ID'd as James Holmes, 24, of Aurora, who is in police custody"

The story is here: 12 shot dead at 'Dark Knight Rises' screening in Aurora, Colorado

I'm curious, of course. What's this James Holmes look like? So I Google him:

8:42am Image Search for 'James Holmes' July 20, 2012 at 8:42am when I got an MSNBC alert identifying the suspect was in custody. James Holmes the actor is the the top ranking James Holmes.
11am Notice a video screen capture of the suspect’s car is appearing.
12:07pm
12:28pm
1:13pm By 1:13pm, James Holmes the actor is displaced by James Holmes the suspect as the first "James Holmes" that appears.
1:30pm By 1:30pm, most of the pictures above the fold are of James Holmes the suspect. Other James Holmeses continue to appear, perhaps because millions of people are clicking on them (like I did) to find out who the other guys named James Holmes are; and of course before James Holmes the suspect showed up, anyone named James Holmes could be mistaken for the suspect and gain SEO value due to click activity.

This is James Holmes the actor. More information about him is here.

 

 

Started: 2012-07-20

Covering the Coverage

Ana Marie Cox, Washington Correspondent for GQ Magazine, said on CNN's Reliable Sources that the media was "finally learning some lessons" in the wake of the Colorado theater shootings. This was after host Howard Kurtz had suggested most (but not all) of the coverage had been responsible, even though the media still hemorrhaged with speculation (my words, not his).

Ms Cox isn't that old, but she isn't young enough to be excused for her Pollyanna optimism. The same cycle is repeated every time this happens: breaking news, frenzied reporting (and speculation), suspect identified, victims and bystanders interviewed, analysis of the events, then analysis of the coverage. Usually it takes longer than 3 days, but this series of events unfolded quickly.[1]

Until there is no more incentive for presenting the news than presenting the news, this will not change. It will only worsen. Events like these affect sponsors, ad revenue, and careers. They are growth opportunities as much as news stories.

And that is the only lesson anyone in the media learned from this event.

Don't believe me? Tune it Nancy Grace on CNN for a week. If you removed the speculation (and requisite indignation), you'd have about 5 minutes of real information, and most of that would be repeated from nights before.

[1]
Of course, once the victims and witnesses and authorities have been mined for all the information they're willing to give out, and the speculation is beginning to repeat itself, there's not much let to talk about.


Started: 2012-07-22

My Blog Schedule

1
Something My Dad Said
"When you start the car with the air conditioning or radio already on, it hurts the points." I don't know what points are, or if modern cars still have them, but I make sure everything is turned off when I start the car.

[July 21, 2012]

2
Something My Grandpa Cairns Said
"The grass will come back, Chuck, but the kids will be gone." He said that to Dad after Dad had told him about the dirt patches in the backyard where us kids played ball; Dad was unable to get grass to grow there.

That was in Erie, PA.

The grass grew back long ago.

[July 21, 2012]

3
My Blog Schedule
I've been publishing my blog manually in the morning before I go to work. I think the email update to subscribers goes out sometime during the day. For consistency, I'm going to schedule everything to go up shortly after midnight; that may or may not affect when updates arrive in your inbox. I'll still be posting to Twitter and Facebook in the mornings.

[July 21, 2012]

Get a Haircut

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Husband: ♫ Hi, honey, I'm home! ♫
Wife: When are you going to get a haircut?
Husband: My day was fine. How was yours?
Wife: When are you going to get a haircut?
Husband: Mmmmm, something sure smells good.
Wife: When are you going to get a haircut?
Husband: You look so beautiful at 6pm.
Wife: When are you going to get a haircut?

(True conversation. Well, that's the way I remember it.)

[July 21, 2012]

2
Got got this nice comment on my post on Charles Manson:

You need to participate in a contest for among the finest blogs on the web. I'll advocate this web site!

(This is the post he was commenting on: Thoughts upon Charles Manson's Parole.)

The comment didn't actually post (even though I got an email notification), and it didn't have a signature, just a link to another blog. I'd like to think it was genuine, but it was probably a case of random spam for backlinking purposes.

Commenter: If you're the real deal, thank you. If not, well, you gave me something to blog about.

3
Fingernails on Whiteboard

As I mentioned to a colleague recently, the sound of fingernails on chalkboard will soon (if it hasn't already) become detached from experience and exist only in the realm of metaphor, as does "cash on the barrel head," for example, and "three sheets to the wind," and other phrases whose meanings have become divorced from their etymology.[1]

You can't replace it with "fingernails on a whiteboard," but you might say something like "that person's voice affects me like the smell of white board cleaner," which all of us who’ve smelled it will agree is repulsive.

[July 18, 2012]

[1]
Cash on the barrel head: cash at the time of purchase
Three sheets to the wind: drunk ; pertains to chains that regulate the angle of sails; if the sheets were loose, the boat would become unstable and tipsy.

But for the Grace of God

One Saturday morning I watched a segment of WWII in HD on the History Channel [July 30] in which the tragic events at Saipan's Marpi Point are recalled in images and soldiers’ letters. One thousand Japanese civilians killed themselves rather than be captured by the advancing American army, which they feared would rape and torture them.

The images were graphic and my throat was thick with suppressed tears. My daughter Dee Dee had made me an "ice cream cone" out of Legos and asked me to pretend to eat it. I looked at her, and looked at the TV.

Back and forth, back and forth.

What confluence of events or forces or minds places our consciences in these bodies at this time, and not those at that time, casting themselves off cliffs?

Started: 2012-06-30

Of Pies and Pipes and Tidal Waves

1
All three of those metaphors came up in a meeting recently[1]. I mentioned to a colleague afterward that they would make a good chapter in a book, of the sort that might be titled "The 3-Minute Manager" or something like that, the type of little book bound in faux leather, with a silk marker, large type and lots of wingdings and language so weighty you can't turn a page without according a moment of reverence.

I always wanted to write a book like that. Most books I treasure could be condensed in just this way. Music for Chameleons comes to mind.

[June 22, 2012]

2
If you live long enough, everyone you know dies before you. The alternative isn't that appealing either.

(Page 1 of my little faux leather book.)

[July 15, 2012]

3
I am in a constant state of sympathy for those that suffer any sort of misfortune, large or small. It's a state of mind little different from persistent anxiety, but much more difficult to cultivate.

[July 17, 2012]

[1]
Pie: as in, the pie is only so big and you can only get so many pieces out of it.
Pipe: as in, the pipe is only so wide and you can only get so much to flow through it.
Tidal wave: as in, the work is backing up because the pie or pipe is too small and will flood us if we don't find a way to increase the pie or pipe.

What Does It Mean to Herripleate?

(A couple 0dds & Ends for Wednesday July 18.)

1
Herrippleate: To read something so beautiful that the only response is to metaphorically shiver. [1]

I was introduced to this wonderful word by Prof. William Vande Kopple in one of my English classes at Calvin College. Prof. Vande Kopple got it from one of his professors, whom I think coined it.

IMHO you will find something to herrippleate over on nearly every page of anything written by Truman Capote (except private letters, which are remarkable only for their schoolgirlish tenor).

[June 20, 2012]

2
Just heard an NPR report [June 27, 2012] that it takes 50 lbs of water to produce one hamburger. The unstated assumption was that the water is wasted. Of course, it's not, it gets recycled like the water you and I drink.

BTW, 50 lbs of water is about 6 gallons.

The rain falls on the just and the unjust alike, and on cows and goats and sheep and horses. Some rain produces hamburgers, some the tomatoes that make our ketchup, some the flour that makes our buns, and still more the pickles, onions and lettuce that don't upset us. Let's be fair before we begin disparaging water use for what accounts for only 50% of what winds up in that wrapper.

[June 27, 2012]

[1]
Perhaps an alteration of "horripilate"?  I'm pretty sure I'm recalling the spelling and meaning of this correctly from Prof Vande Kopple's classroom, but it's been a lot of years and I could be mistaken.