Adaptive Curmudgeon

It was a day and a half before the inside cat detected a perimeter breach. The inside cat, being useless like all cats, spent sixteen hours sleeping while it pondered this new information. Then, after another nap, it decided to go see if chipmunks were fun to play with.

It dimly understood that it was an inside cat and had not yet been demoted to outside cat for reasons specifically related to the inside rodent population. Or something. Humans were boring and their goals never made sense. They used lots of words to explain stuff that was irrelevant. Also, they never fed cats as quickly as they should. Plus the humans had a stupid dog. The cat had no idea why she let the pathetic humans keep a dog in her house. She’d look into this oversight sometime and have the dog shot. Maybe it was also time to get new humans to replace the losers currently on staff? As soon as the cat had this thought it forgot about it and went to sleep. Then it was lunchtime. Or maybe it was dinner?

Eventually the cat remembered it’s goal of seeking the chipmunk but then it decided to lick it’s own ass instead. After that it took another nap. Later that weekend, after the cat had taken six more naps and sharpened it’s claws on the couch, it got to work.

It found the chipmunk in the basement and attacked. Except the cat lacked the one thing a cat really needs, a killer instinct. The chipmunk scooted up the wall and into the sub-basement. The cat lost interest.

Later the cat remembered something furry and went into the sub-basement to investigate. The chipmunk exploded over the ductwork. The cat thought running over the ductwork seemed like a fun thing to do. It followed noisily. The human upstairs heard the racket and arrived with a flashlight. Humans suck.

The battle raged on while the human cheered. “Get it, get it, get it. Kill the stupid chipmunk you dummy!” The cat, being useless, liked to chase critters but had no stomach for killing. The chipmunk flitted into the crawlspace and disappeared. The cat lost interest again. The human began cursing. That guy sure had an elaborate vocabulary. The cat immediately went to her box to take a big smelly dump which the human would eventually have to clean up. Being a cat rocks.

I’m not the only one who felt that ominous breeze. Nearby a chipmunk was sitting on a tree branch. From his lofty perch he eyed me and my decrepit tractor with disdain. He felt the same breeze. He sniffed the same wind. He knew too.

It had been a good year for critters. The oaks had produced stupendous amounts of acorns. Most of the seed bearing plants had done a good job too. The mower had actually run all summer long (an unprecedented event) and the grass had been kept manageably low. Thus the cats hadn’t had their usual cover from which they like to jump on God’s furry cleanup crew. In short there had been ample opportunity for an enterprising chipmunk to top off his nut based 401(k).

One chipmunk was different. He was a coddled beast. He had too much self esteem. He’d been given thirty seven consecutive blue ribbons for “most improved” in chipmunk school. He was confident in his belief that he was the best, most excellent, of all chipmunks ever. He desperately wanted an iPhone 5 so he could communicate this fact to the universe.

He perched on a tree branch and looked enviously at the house. “Why should I be outside when that two legged wanker has a whole house?” His furry brain reasoned. “I’ve got acorns but I know the humans have lots of dog food.” His brain seethed. “I could steal it from that lumbering wookie they keep in the house with them.”

Thinking of the dog, he chattered angrily. The clueless dog wandering around the yard heard the racket. The dog, being clueless, decided the best response was to bark at the clueless turkeys, which were the only thing more clueless than the dog. (This is what the dog did whenever it couldn’t think of anything else to do.)

Meanwhile the cats laid on the grass like beatniks and stoners. Actually they laid on the grass like beatniks that were stoned… or possibly beatniks that were dead. No, that’s not an adequate description. They laid around like cats; for nothing on God’s green earth is more indolent and lazy than a cat. The chickens, as always, pecked industriously amid the fallen leaves. The chipmunk hated them all.

“Fortunately,” thought the chipmunk, “I hate them all equally, which shows that I am without bias.” Though upon reflection the chipmunk had to admit to himself that he hated the cats just a little bit more than the others. He sighed; it was hard letting go of prejudices. He’d have to work on that.

Turning his attention away from the menagerie in the yard, he thought again of the human. He watched him crawl under the tractor for no apparent reason. Then the man banged his head on it’s iron belly. The man let fly with curses that practically melted the last bits of remaining paint on the machine. Was that why he crawled under there? Who would crawl under something simply for the purpose of hitting his head on it? Was it more fun to bash your head underneath the tractor? Was the top too soft? The chipmunk pondered this while the man crawled under the tractor again.

The man twisted a shiny metallic object until black liquid suddenly poured from the machine. This was interesting! The chipmunk had no idea the tractor had a chocolate center. The flow of liquid narrowly missed an old bucket and instead covered the man’s face. This caused another round of cursing. “What a moron!” thought the chipmunk, “nothing he does makes sense.” Finally the chipmunk had made his decision.

“He’s an idiot!” Declared the chipmunk. “Furthermore he doesn’t need that much stuff.” The chipmunk continued. “I need a warm house. I need food.” The chipmunk could scarcely contain himself. “Who are they to deny my rights!” The chipmunk was in a froth! “They are the 1%. Too rich. They have exploited us chipmunks for too long! We chipmunks are the 99%.” He stammered angrily. “In the name of justice and equality I shall take from that undeserving rich bastard what is rightfully mine!”

Full of righteous indignation, the chipmunk zoomed down the oak’s trunk, past the woodpile where he’d been loafing all summer, and under the porch. The cats in the yard neither moved nor considered the possibility of moving. The drafty old farmhouse posed no challenge to the clever creature. Within minutes he was in the basement. “This winter”, thought the chipmunk, “is going to be excellent!”

If you live where the iced tea has sugar you may not understand what is happening at Curmudgeon Compound. Up here, “the change” is coming. It will arrive with or without an invite and there’s nothing we can do to avoid it. The Mongol Horde called “winter” is camped on the plains just beyond the horizon. It is preparing to do us in. Soon it’ll charge into our region and the war will begin. Nobody will be spared. Cars will rust, batteries will freeze, and checking accounts will be depleted. Only the strong will survive.

All the signs are clear. Geese are flying south. Old people and RVs have preceded them. Tourists are a distant memory. Marketers are shoving Christmas stuff up our asses. Bass boats, which were the most coveted of possessions in August, are suddenly expensive and frivolous. Snowmobiles, which spent all summer collecting dust and getting gummed up carburetors, have become desirable. Lusting after ice shacks will begin shortly. Hunters are about to go into rut. Bucks are getting nervous. Somewhere a redneck is looking forward to driving his truck on the ice.

You never know exactly when the change will happen. Sometimes it’s subtle. Sometimes it arrives with fury. Only one thing is sure; when it comes you will know.

I was frittering away the afternoon tweaking my tractor’s back blade (one of my three snow moving implements… one needs backups!). I sniffed the air. Winter was coming. No! So soon? I felt it on the breeze too. There could be no doubt. Winter would wait no more. Shit just got real.

In October Curmudgeon Compound was attacked by zombies critters.  I wrote a story describing my brave fight against the forces of darkness furry invaders and my massive victory minor success in defending the homeland.

Then, because I was busy doing particle physics research in the barn I was lazy, I failed to post it.  Today, while cutting firewood meditating[1], a woodland creature perched on my woodpile and started bitching me out.  Vocally expressed his distaste for me, my saw, my wood splitter, my truck, my hat, my dog, and my very existence.  This reminded me of the epic battle of autumn.  Stay tuned for the details…

A.C.

[1]  Cutting firewood IS meditation dammit.  Loud macho dangerous exhausting meditation!  You expect me to sit on a rug smelling candles?

True story:

Several moons ago I bought a used truck. It is diesel because I’m an adherent to the church of diesel. Diesel is a PITA but it’s also vastly superior to the more common gasoline engines. Analogous to how my computer runs Linux. It seems to suck until I compare it to Windblows (which is so appalling I can’t believe people still use it) or a Mac (which is as far as I can tell are sold through Stockholm syndrome).  In my eyes I’ve got the best type engine and the handiest OS in the county. (Admittedly there are very few people in my county and probably none of them use Linux but all farmer and loggers prefers diesel so score one out of two.) The key point is that it is a diesel truck.

I bought the truck a couple thousand miles away and it didn’t come with an oil pan heater. Research indicated that all engines of my type have a heater but some were shipped without the cord.  WTF?  At any rate it was a serious issue for me.  Folks who live in a “normal” climate have no idea how much engineering is required to survive up here… much less coax a diesel to life in the cold.  Clearly I’d need to install that cord before it got cold.

So of course I ignored the issue through many warm pleasant months until it was Christmas Eve and 0 degrees out.  Yeah, I’m that smart.  (I’d been carrying the cord, ready for installation, for several weeks.)

I’d been hauling firewood and doing farm chores in the bone chilling cold for several hours when I decided I’d better face the cord install.  It should be stupid simple.  Wrong!  Nothing, even taking a leak, is stupid simple when it’s well below freezing!  Also the daylight was waining.  I’d have to hurry.

I crawled under the truck and started poking around.  I had no clue where the cord should be installed but I had a basic idea of how to look.  Because physics is physics it should be on the bottom and not the top.  Because oil is oil it should be on the oil pan (which is like ten acres of surface area on this truck!).  There should be a simple receptacle which would receive the cord.  No tools needed (probably).

I experienced (not for the first time) awe.  A modern diesel engine is a technological marvel with complexity far surpassing anything an ape like me should ever touch.  Plus everything is huge.  This engine is like a Formula 1 race car had sex with a steamshovel.  I was lost.

Meanwhile the cold ground conducted temperatures into my spine which are banned by Geneva convention.  I think there was a serious wind chill too.  I couldn’t actually tell over the sound of my teeth chattering.

Finally I found a receptacle which looked right.  Except some chowderhead had already plugged a sensor or something into it.  A suspicious looking cable left the receptacle and dove into the depths of the engine where a mouse wouldn’t fit.  Who knows what it did or why?  The light was fading and I couldn’t feel…  well anything.  It would take a miracle  to get this handled before sunset and another -10 degree evening.  I was well and truly screwed.

As a last ditch effort I tried tracing the cable.  After a couple twists and turns it wound up at the front of the truck, tucked behind the bumper like it had never been used.  It was the AC plug end to  my already installed block heater!

Merry Christmas to me!

I decided that Saint Nick dropped off mechanically inclined elves which fixed my truck for me.  (I have been good all year!)  It’s as good an explanation as any.  Also it’s uncanny how perfect it is.  I can’t imagine a better Christmas present (except maybe a cannon or a submarine).  Within the realm of reasonable this is pretty much the greatest Christmas surprise ever.

A.C.

P.S.  I tested it and it works.  Which is a good thing because I haven’t seen the positive side of the Fahrenheit scale for a few days now.

Once I had everything lined out I was shocked at what I saw. It seems like you can’t turn over a rock without the Government forming a rock relocation committee. I assumed the workforce has been growing like a waistline at Thanksgiving.

I was wrong!

In the last 49 years (roughly) the government averaged about 5,000,000 employees with a big spike in the late 1960’s (Vietnam?). There has been fluctuation in between but compared to 1962 and the 2010 Fed is just under a million employees smaller. How is it that us “small government” fans aren’t aware of this? You’d think we’d be pleased with the overall trend. (Yes, yes… Some of you are attempting to hammer the word “contractor” into the nearest keyboard as fast as possible. That’s a topic for another time.)

I shall repeat this because it impressed me; the number of employees in Federal government in 2010 is smaller than in 1962. Who knew?

Another interesting thought, the US population increased in that time. Thus the relative size of the Fed diminished from 29 to 16 Feds per million Americans. Huzzah!

Now was the time to see if I would eat crow or not. This all started when I claimed that Reagan increased the size of government. Specifically he hired more Federal employees. I’d skated on thin ice. To some folks, bitching about Reagan increasing the size of government is like complaining that the Pope’s keg parties are too wild. Was I wrong?

(Warning: Math/) Any spreadsheet can fit a linear regression. I made one for each president. My crude regressions have a slope and an intercept. Forget the intercept and look at the slope. The slope is the average change per year exhibited by that president. If the slope is positive, then the president increased the number of people working for the government. If it’s negative he decreased it. The size of the number is how aggressively this happened. A small slope means virtually no change. A big number means a big change.(/Math)

Ronald Reagan added just under 54,000 Feds a year. Overall he accumulated about 307,000 additional employees total in 8 years as head poombah. Based on America’s population in 1985, Reagan added a total of about 0.129% or more than 1/1000 of the citizenry to the already existing Federal force.

Delightfully, the numbers had backed up my statements! Almost a third of a million additions in eight years means the hero of small government somehow managed to hire another person every 10 minutes, day and night, weekends included, the entire time he was in power. I laughed hard enough to annoy my dog.

What about my boast that the two parties are pretty similar? I’d stated my theory that Republicans (which talk a big game about small government) had not behaved much better than the Democrats (which have never met anything that isn’t, in their eyes, under the purview of the Federal government). Was I correct?

On my chart there has been a Republican in charge 28 years and a Democrat for 21 years. Nice bi-partisan sample. All I needed was a weighted average of presidential “slopes” by party. Republicans cut 71,000 Fed jobs a year on average. Democrats add just under 50,000 employees a year. Ironically, Democrats rack up new hires roughly as quickly as Reagan did.

So I learned something new. With the exception of Reagan, the “small government party” does indeed reduce employees more than their counterpart. Fair ’nuff.

What else is there to learn? It looked like the Democrat’s record of adding Feds is almost entirely due to a spike that happened on Johnson’s watch. Every other Democrat (except Obama) shed jobs. What if I took out the spike?

As an experiment I zeroed out the temporary spike that is probably Vietnam. It started more or less in 1965 and it was more or less erased by 1972 (every job added on the way up was cut on the way down). Retaining the spike meant that Dems got the blame for the build up and Repubs got the credit for the reduction. (“Credit” and “blame” being dependent on your point of view.)

Removing the seven year spike didn’t change much. Johnson and Reagan remain the big expanders. Clinton and Nixon remain the big reducers. In keeping with the overall trend, Republicans reduce -42,000 Feds a year while Democrats shave only about -10,000. No matter how you slice it, (ditching Johnson’s buildup and keeping Reagan’s expansion) Republicans still generally cut the number of Feds 400% faster than Democrats.

You can split hairs further. For example I didn’t pro-rate changes between presidents. My chart implies that the day after Bush Jr. left office, a quarter million more Feds simply materialized out of thin air and neither Bush nor Obama had the slightest influence on that. Of course it could be examined, but doing so is a political hassle I don’t need. Nor does it matter. I wasn’t interested in what a specific pinhead politician did. My question was what the herd of pinheads have done en masse. Well, that and having fun taunting a friend over Reagan.

I sense commentary arguing either for or against a particular president or party. One could write books about how such and such unfortunate growth in the size of Government was totally necessary at the time because the Lemur harvest in Indonesia affected Boris Yeltzin’s left nut… Not interested. I’ve seen everything under the sun justified by very earnest people and it gets weird fast. All I care is what presidents of both parties did; what actually happened on their watch. In fact I pretty much don’t care what any of them said or intended. Presidents shouldn’t get a pass for having good intentions.

P.S. I used the following rough numbers for USA population in 1962 = 186,000,000, in 2010 = 281,000,000, and in 1985 = 238,000,000.)

In case you’ve been battered by markteters or hammered by travel I give you the words of Linus.

Merry Christmas from the Curmudgeon.

The Internet is my friend. Data can hammer beautiful fictions into dust faster than you can say “bullshit detection” and the Internet is awash with data. It took no time at all to find a chart with the number of employees in the Federal government from 1962 to 2010. The source, the OPM, is reasonably sound. The OPM isn’t known to cook numbers particularly outrageously. Also, the chart included uniformed military as well as executive/legislative/judicial branches. Good.

I’ve no idea why the chart began in 1962 but it was ideal; enough to cover a long span without not stretching so far back that I’d have to grapple with the great depression and WWII. I wished it went to 2012 but at least it covered a smidge of the current rainbow in chief. I was more interested in what I’d said about Reagan anyway. (I had declared that there were more Federal employees when Reagan was done than when he started. Had I skated on thin ice? If I was wrong I was due for a verbal thrashing and the forced shameful admission that I was completely incorrect. I might be flogged.)

What fun to look at actual numbers. Facts are a meat cleaver against talking points. (That’s why we’ve had an election season largely devoid of them.) I dumped the table into a spreadsheet and spent a whopping 2 minutes assigning each year to a president. As with all number crunching, there were details. New president take over in late January. We do this because… well I’ve got no idea but I wish it was January 1st. Plus Kennedy got shot on a day that’s not December 31st. Nixon was also rude enough to resign in the middle of the damn year. Oh well, neither event changed the party of the sitting president. I simply made units of a year and rolled with it. In the long term, a month or two is irrelevant.

Then, because I’m a stud, I made a chart. Because I’m lazy, I didn’t make a pretty chart. Because I’m evil (and also it’s Christmas dammit), I’ll wait a few days to post the results.

Ring ring…

Me: “Hello”

Dr. Mingo: “We’re fucked!”

Me: “That’s a new discovery? By the way, I like the way you start conversations.”

Dr. Mingo: “The fiscal cliff; we’re going over and I’m displeased.”

Me: “When I paraphrase this for my blog I’m going to substitute ‘displeased’ for what you just said.”

Dr. Mingo: “Who cares! That moron Obama is going to tax us back to the stone age. We’re going over the cliff!”

Me: “First of all we already went over the cliff.  In early 2011 Congress took a good look at the bigget debt in the history of mankind and wet themselves.  Ballsy lot eh?  By August they pooled all their leadership skills and decided to punt until 2013.  Now, 16 months later, I’m supposed to be surprised? D.C. has been running in the red most of my adult life and December 31, 2012 is when I’m officially scheduled to hyperventilate? Even my dog knew this was coming.”

Dr. Mingo: “Well this wouldn’t turn out so bad if Romney had won. He’d actually cut spending…”

Me: “Ha ha ha, and I fart rainbows. Whomever won the election was pre-ordained to look the dragon in the face and then bravely keep doing the same stupid shit.”

Dr. Mingo: “Compared to Obama…”

Me: “It’s better to die from Tuberculosis than Cancer? Both parties are spineless. Romney would have caved like a house of cards…”

Dr. Mingo: “But…”

Me: “…a house of cards dumped into a wood chipper…”

Dr. Mingo: “But…”

Me: “…a woodchipper that’s been set on fire.”

Dr. Mingo: “But…”

Me: “…and dropped in a tar pit.”

Dr. Mingo: “Um… that’s a pretty complete level of ‘collapse’. I disagree with you. A Republicans core belief is smaller government…”

Me: “Ha ha ha. Fart. Rainbows. Nyuk nyuk nyuk.”

Dr. Mingo: “I sense disagreement.”

Me: “Regardless of what they say, neither party is in favor of smaller government. Forget their words, look at their deeds.”

Dr. Mingo: “I’m incredulous!”

Me: “I’m going to paraphrase that as…”

Dr. Mingo: “Shut up! Are you saying the party of Reagan expands government? Are you high?”

Me: “I’ll admit Reagan rocked a cowboy hat but he spent money like an actor from California.”

Dr. Mingo: “You have insulted Reagan! I’m going to have to beat your ass for that.”

Me: “He expanded government.”

Dr. Mingo: “You’re full of baloney.”

Me: “I’m going to paraphrase that as…”

Dr. Mingo: “Shut up! I think you’re wrong. How sure are you of your facts?”

Me: “Um… We’ll I’ve been wrong before. There was this incident with my tractor’s crankshaft…”

Dr. Mingo: “So you’re backing down?”

Me: “No, but one of us is wrong. Being that we’re evolved beings let’s examine actual facts…”

Dr. Mingo: “You going to do that before or after you fart rainbows?”

Me: “I deserve that. However I have a plan.”

Dr. Mingo: (Cautiously) “Um… I’m not sure where this is going.”

Me: “I will research the matter.”

Dr. Mingo: “Whew…”

Me: “If there are more Federal Employees after a president leaves than when he takes office he’s expanded government. Is that a clear definition?”

Dr. Mingo: “Yes, well given extenuating circumstances…”

Me: “No extenuating circumstances. If you start as boss with 100 employees and quit four years later with 101 then you’ve ‘expanded’ the company. There might be very good reasons to expand; I’m sure Obama could list them…”

Dr. Mingo: “Aak!”

Me: “…but regardless of the cause, reasoning, logic, or explanation I’m going to find a number and write it on a piece of paper. More people on the payroll equals bigger government. No whining. No Mulligans.”

Dr. Mingo: “Agreed. More employees equals expanded. Simple.”

Me: “Fine. Then I will state my hypothesis.”

Dr. Mingo: “You want a lab coat and chalk board Dr. Spock?”

Me: “Hypothesis one: Reagan left office with more people in Federal employment than when he started.”

Dr. Mingo: “I think you’re wrong. I look forward to watching you eat crow.”

Me: “Hypothesis two: if I look long term, presidents of both parties have increased the number of Federal employees more or less equally. I won’t see a big difference between the two.”

Dr. Mingo: “Oh man. I’m going to be depressed if you’re right.”

Me: “Welcome to my world.”

Dr. Mingo: “So call me when you know.”

Me: “Remember my blog?”

Dr. Mingo: “You’re going to string everyone along with a cliffhanger aren’t you.”

Me: “Of course!”

Earlier this year I made several predictions (some funny, others in earnest).  My track record appears to be dismal.  However there was one that I nailed!

38. The world will not end. It’s a calendar carved on a rock by people who didn’t have enough technology to make an electric toaster…get real.

Just in case the world ended and I didn’t notice (it has been busy on the homestead lately) I referenced the mainstream press which, like me, was actually correct for once.  Check out the greatest headline of the quarter: Mayan calendar ends; world doesn’t.