Odds & Ends
The South lost almost every battle in the Civil War. Even those they won tactically, they lost strategically. They were pyric victories.
This may sound odd, but it's all in how you look at it. In a war of attrition, the side losing the most troops will lose the war. Since the North started out with three or four times the available manpower, the South couldn't afford to lose nearly as many men before it lost the ability to fight. So every battle they won in the field where they didn't inflict three to four times the number of casualties on the North was ultimately a strategic loss.
Now, I admit this is a highly simplified way to view it. You can also destroy the enemy's morale and political will as well as their infrastructure needed to support the war. The South couldn't really do much to the latter, though there were times the North's political will was in doubt.
In the end, the South could have won every battle and lost the war simply by bleeding themselves dry. They could only have won if the North gave up. That's the way it can be in war, it's decided behind the lines rather than on the field of battle.
As Napoleon said, "God is on the side of the big battalions." This means one thing tactically, another strategically.
How did cooking ever start? It's not like it's an obvious thing to do, dashing perfectly good food in a roaring fire then dragging it out and eating it. How did cavemen come up with it? I'm also curious how they figured out some things which are deadly when raw are safe when cooked. Serendipity? Trial and error? I wouldn't want to belong to that test kitchen.
Then again, they figured out if you lobbed a virgin in a volcano you'd get good weather, avoid plague and pestilence, and win the lottery. Caveman science worked in mysterious ways.
Many euphemisms puzzle me. Not what they mean, but how changing the name of something is supposed to improve it's image. Isn't something's reputation or stigma or whatever not in the term, but in what the term defines? This doesn't change no matter what you call it. You might prefer custodian to janitor, but it still involves cleaning toilets.
Often the new term is less accurate and just a bigger mouthful which can be awkward. I don't see what was wrong with the terms midget or dwarf where little person is better. Besides, there's a difference between a midget and a dwarf which little person misses. Then again, children are little people, too. I never thought the word dwarf was an insult any more than the word giant was derogatory.
But then, I'm an averaged sized person so maybe I wouldn't understand.
Most pets, and farm animals generally, sleep a good deal of the time. Dogs lay around all day and night and cats are constantly napping. They're not very active at all. Gerbils, hamsters, cows, pigs, you name it they pretty much spend their days not doing much of anything other than eating and sleeping.
People on the other hand are awake 2/3rds of the time, which is a lot more by contrast. I wonder how this compares to wild animals. Humans are up and at it more than most it seems. Rather flies in the face the whole notion that people aren't active enough now-a-days. Compared to other domesticated animals we're busy as beavers. I mean, if you're exercising to the point it hurts, might that be a sign you're overdoing it?
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.
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.
"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.
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.
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?