In America anyone can grow up to become president, or so they say. Perhaps in theory, but in practice presidents come basically in two types, career politician/lawyer/bureaucrats and generals. Which I suppose makes some sense. Since the president has to work with a sprawling, impenetrable, bureaucratic organization it might serve them well that they've already paid their dues in some other sprawling, impenetrable, bureaucratic organization.
It doesn't hurt to be a glutton for punishment, either. Actually punishment would hurt, wouldn't it? Better they should be impenetrable to the slings and arrows of outrageous media and constituents. We don't particularly desire our presidents to be sprawling, though I'm not sure how that even applies.
"Beautiful people behaving stupidly" is how someone described the TV sitcom. These characters say and do things no sensible person would do in real life. If they did, I doubt the reaction from the rest of us would be laughter, but annoyance.
Back in the day, sitcom characters were basically nice folks with minor flaws in odd situations. Think of Rob and Laura Petry. Nowadays the lead characters are often selfish, sneaky, dishonest, stupid and lazy. Think of Kramer and George Costanza. Current sitcoms seem to revolve around people having sex, trying to have sex, talking about sex, talking about trying to have sex, or talking about not having sex.
Maybe I'm just an old curmudgeon, but I don't care about these character's sex lives. I don't even like these characters. Then again, if they were real people they probably wouldn't much care for me in return.
Ever see NUMB3RS? I rather like it, though I'm somewhat dubious about some of the math. Not that it's phony, but how does professor Epps come up with the formulas and logarithms so fast? Though mostly I wonder, where does he get the values to plug in?
It reminds me of the Drake equation that was supposed to calculate the likelihood of extraterrestrial life communicating with Earth:
N x fp x ne x fl x fi x fc x fL = ?
N is the number of stars in the Milky Way galaxy; fp is the fraction with planets; ne is the number of planets per star capable of supporting life; fl is the fraction of planets where life evolves; fi is the fraction where intelligent life evolves; fc is the fraction that communicates; and fL is the fraction of the planet's life during which the communicating civilizations live.
The problem is there is only one value that is even close to being know, the number of stars in the galaxy. The rest is pure guesswork. So, without good information to put in the equation, it's worthless. All we know for sure is there's at least one chance of it, Earth.
This reminds me of something I read years ago about some guy trying to calculate the probability of the universe working. The very narrow range of values for the strong force, the weak force, electro-magnetism, gravity, the speed of light and a bunch of things that had to line up for the universe to work out.
All I could think was, why bother? We know there is some probability because here we are. For all I know there might have been a thousand previous Big Bangs that got it wrong and those universes collapsed into nothingness.
Can somebody explain the letter 'G' to me? Not what the letter is, but why the various forms. I mean, a cursive capital 'G' doesn't look much like the formal version. How did it get that way? And what's with the two different lower case versions? Where did that second really odd-looking one come from?
To go off on a needless tangent, why two different sounds? Like the hard 'G' in 'go' and the soft 'G' in 'tangent' for instance. Wouldn't the letter 'J' work just as well in the second case? Now, it's not a bad as the letter 'C' which doesn't even have a sound of its own. It sounds like a 'K' or an 'S'. Its only distinct sound is in combination with an 'H', as in 'church'. At least it always looks like a 'C', so I'll give it that.
How many times have you heard Santayana's famous quote about those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it? Maybe as many times as Andy Warhol's quip about 15 minutes of fame. I have my own favorite quote which comes from comedian Ed Bluestone:
"History helps us better understand the past."
Strained relations between the military and the press are nothing new. Just consider this quote from General William Tecumseh Sherman during the Civil War:
"I hate newspapermen. They come into camp and pick up their camp rumors and print them as facts. I regard them as spies, which, in truth, they are. If I killed them all there would be news from Hell before breakfast."
Another quote from playwright Tom Stoppard:
"I'm a man of no convictions. At least I think I am."
Do I show an undecided voter or an indifferent one? Politicians vie for the uncommitted voter, but not the noncommittal one. This makes me think of the old joke/riddle: Why are there so many ignorant, indifferent people? I don't know and I don't care.
Entertaining an idea. Some joke, huh? I could have done holding an opinion or harboring a belief, but this is enough silliness for now. More than enough really. Besides, I'm basically just ripping off the old Mad magazine bit called "Horrifying Cliches." Are you horrified?
"Happy Birthday to You", the ubiquitous song, was written by sisters Mildred and Patty Hill and published in 1935. It was originally "Good Morning to You" but they adapted it for birthdays. It's been written the royalties amount to $2 million annually.
Color me skeptical, but I have a hard time buying that last part. I mean, who's paying these royalties? I can't imagine any of the millions of folks who sing this at birthday celebrations send one penny to ASCAP or BMI or whoever is in charge of distributing royalties for published songs. I know I never have. I don't recall a hit recording of the song going platinum either. So, how would the sisters get paid for "Happy Birthday to You"?
How many ______ does it take to change a light bulb?
Light bulb jokes are a dime a dozen. Which is much cheaper than light bulbs in fact. I wonder when and where they started, and at what point did it become a genre, like a knock-knock joke? If genre is the term I want.
It would seem riddle type jokes are easier to adapt and turn into a genre. Like the "what do you get when you cross a _____ with a _____?" Change what fills the blanks and you get a new set-up. But you still need a good punch-line.
Riddles are the simplest formula humor there is. Unlike a math formula the answer can't simply be worked out, nor should it be obvious if it's to work well. With all this in mind I'll take stab at writing a light bulb joke:
How many psychiatrists does it take to change a light bulb?
One. But does the light bulb ever really change?
Is it me or are more and more people pronouncing the word "often" with a hard "T"? I remember being taught as a schoolboy the "T" was silent. Perhaps my dictionary is out of date, but it confirms it:
often (AW fen, OFF en)
You don't pronounce the "T" in listen, do you? How about the "L" in half? Who pronounces the first "R" in February? What on earth would I do with a word like "knight"?
I suspect the folks who pronounce the "T" in often are the type who say either as "eye-thur". I understand this originated with King George of England, who being German could never come to grips with the idea English "ei" is not like German "ei", the latter of which is pronounced "eye". Like Einstein, for instance. Toadying English courtiers adopted this mispronunciation and it became an affectation of being higher class.
English is full of elision and contractions that make it easier for speech to flow. The hard consonant sounds in conjunction with each other have the effect of a stop. How many of us actually pronounce the hard "g" on words ending in "ing"? Not that we should start slurring everything together and start talking like Mumbles, or Prince Charles after a drinking jag.
But this is a matter of no great importance or weight (pronounced "wait" not "white" or "wheat." Go figure).
For no good reason I'll add that Germans pronounce "ee" as a long A sound. Think of Beethoven (BAYtoven), or the painter Paul Klee (clay).