Another entry into my list of “The Unstoppable”. The title pretty much says everything you need to know.
(HT to John McCoy.)
Another entry into my list of “The Unstoppable”. The title pretty much says everything you need to know.
(HT to John McCoy.)
I’m not sure which one of you pissed off Zeus but would you buy him flowers or something? It’s been a hell of a storm for two days and I’d like to go outside without getting blown to the next time zone.

The wind at Curmudgeon Compound has damaged a few shingles.
(Source of photo is here.)
If you’re like me you view the world of work as a wholly inexplicable separate dimension where reality, cause and effect, and all laws of logic are twisted and reversed. I work hard. I do my best every day and get better as I gain more experience. This, of course, is counterproductive and causes me no end of hassles. If you work hard like me you have my sympathies and condolences. We’re both in for a long hard career of swimming upstream.
Between the two of us (assuming you’re not a lazy bastard) we make up 0.001% of the workforce. As for the rest? In my experience they don’t give a shit. Frankly that’s the wiser path. Those who don’t give a shit get along fine with each other and seem to get paid about the same. The only one who rocks the boat is the hard worker and the damned customer. Customers can eventually be dissuaded from bothering lazy employees. (GM has tried this approach with great success.) With the ever larger gulf between serving the customer and keeping a job there’s no downside to that. (Did I use the word “gulf”…how about “gaping uncrossable chasm”.)
Am I too cynical? Try this experiment. Call any company’s service center with a legitimate question. Perhaps you can call with money in hand to buy an upgrade or additional object. You’ll be forced to press 8 for English, be put on hold, ignored, corrected, and generally shit upon by each of the six employees you’ll encounter. The conclusion is inescapable; the company sincerely believes they’d be better off without paying customers.
Like paying customers, the employee who’s always striving is considered an organizational hassle. That’s why folks above, below, and at the same level in the food chain prefer a time serving drone. If you’re fossilized in place it helps. Zombies and the walking dead are ideal.
I will not go quietly into that dark night. I cling to an objective reality where I provide a product or service and my pay reflects the value of that product or service. Reality is lonely. Luckily my own homestead is a fountain of it. I raise chickens and sell eggs. It’s not rocket science. Chickens cost money by eating feed and general maintenance. They earn money by making eggs. If egg sales don’t cover feed costs I have the ultimate recourse. The stew pot. Chicken soup cures any particularly annoying chickens and maintains an efficient and motivated flock.
Now that fall is here I’ve got two cohorts of chickens. One pen is filled with bright shining new critters. Literally they’re “spring chickens”. They’ve just started laying eggs and biology dictates that they’ll lay faster than their older counterparts. Their older counterparts are in another pen. They’re incrementally laying fewer and fewer eggs. These older chickens are clueless about concept of “return on investment”. I am not. The least productive chickens are destined to be served with gravy this winter. Lucky for the older chickens, I did not raise enough young ones to replace them all. Some must go but some will stay. How to choose?
Here’s where homestead reality outshines the wishy-washy workplace; they’ve selected themselves. The older chickens have some measure of free will. I open the door every day so they can venture forth. Some actively roam far and wide seeking choice edibles like dandelions and worms. Others sit fat and pathetic in the barn waiting for the daily handout I always provide.
Today, butchering day, I’ve opened the doors as always. The active chickens are out and about flipping over leaves and scratching. The lazy ones are indoors doing nothing but eating expensive food and shitting all over the water can. At a glance I know which chickens cost more to maintain and which gather some of their sustenance on their own and save me a few bucks. The bums are just waiting in the pen for me to pick them up. The active ones would require I chase them all over the lawn. Simple!
Indeed the flock will be thinned a bit today and the fat lazy slobs wind up in the freezer and the active productive ones will have a longer life. I sincerely wish the world of work were so darned clear with incentives. This is why folks with farms look at various deadbeats with a cynical eye…we know a simple and easy solution that works every time. It’s a tough world on the farm but it sure makes sense.
Go here and watch Buster Keaton. Now. That’s an order.
It’s the best thing you’ll do all day.
(Ht: Small Dead Animals)
One of my multitudinous five readers commented on Lets Hunt Dinosaurs with lyrics so perfectly matched to the topic that I had to add a follow up video. It’s my first embedded video link and a departure of my unwritten Curmudgeonly policy of being too lazy to refraining from embedded videos. Luckily I’m an Adaptive Curmudgeon so I can happily suspend arbitrary informal rules for the very important reason that Jerry Reed is cool and I’m a sucker for black and white video. (Younger readers may wish to consult Wikipedia on this Stone Aged Technology they’ve never witnessed. If the idea is too shocking just unplug the iPod and lay down until the feeling goes away.)
Here’s to you…swamp prowling rednecks chasing giant carnivorous lizards. We truly are a blessed nation to have you!
Being a Curmudgeon sounds like a glass is half full endeavor but it doesn’t have to be. It’s true that the limp flaccid weak pathetic whining of society’s misfits (and increasingly it’s majority) annoys and depresses me but today’s abundance of hyperdependent adult children is just half of the equation. Humans aren’t inherently helpless sheep and the other half of the equation is just how awesome we can (and should!) be. When I stumble across news of impressive people excelling at whatever they freely choose to do it’s a moment worth sharing.
The picture above (click photo for link) is an example. Why? Because I hate alligators? Of course not. It’s because the three young men there did something a lot of us wouldn’t be able to accomplish. It wasn’t without risk. They needed skill, knowledge of the environment, perseverance, and balls of steel. (In references to “balls of steel” I encourage you to read the story. Being a northerner I’ve never gone alligator hunting but it sounds a lot more up close and personal than shooting a deer with a scoped rifle.) They did it of their own volition. They did it with their own resources. They did it on their own time. And most importantly they did it for fun. These three did not sit around waiting for their high school guidance counselor to give them a pat on the back and the usual bullshit story that all kids are above average just for showing up. These three got in their boat and went hunting for the biggest carnivore they could find. How tough were you when you were 19? How tough are you now?
I like the romantic idea that there are people still reasserting our species rightful role as the toughest sons a bitches on planet Earth. Well done men.
And yeah, it’s an alligator and not a dinosaur but they’re pretty close. I’m pretty sure if there were T-Rexes running around a jungle somewhere the Sierra Club elite would be putting them on colorful posters hung on city cubicle walls while these three would be out there trying to hunt one down and BBQ it!
My next entry into the list of “The Unstoppable” is these three young men who could have been sitting on their ass playing Nintendo and instead went hunting for dinosaurs. Excellent work.
Tip O’Neil once said that all politics is local. He had a point. Local politics dimly makes sense while the National election has become so profoundly radioactive that Newt Gingrich is considered a reasonable man. Thus I’ve refrained from commenting on Federal races. On the other hand, I find myself fascinated by a local race for State Representative in my utterly unimportant district of a forgettable state. This is partly because the low population density where I live means I statistically matter locally even through most Federal politicians would rather dine with Satan than listen to my opinions.
As I’ve written before, a very nice person came to my little farm to personally request my vote. Rather than associate her campaign with me (which few candidates would want!) I called her “Candidate X”. I gave her a good-natured lecture about reducing government size and then sent her and her Prius on their way. Good for her for trying to win an election by honest door to door campaigning but I wasn’t her target audience and she didn’t close the deal.
Then the Republicans started doing everything they could to get Candidate X (Democrat naturally) elected. I got two successive Republican sponsored mass mailings that claimed that Candidate X was more or less the antichrist. No mention of their guy. This prompted me to opine that Republicans were really good at snatching defeat from the hands of victory and didn’t seem to be qualified to be Wal-Mart greeters, much less political party operatives.
Then I got two more mailings. Both identical. Both mailed and recieved on the same day. This time from a no-party group that existed only to sink Candidate X. Both mailings claimed Candidate X was going to cause the planet’s orbit to decay until we spiral into the sun in a fiery Armageddon. My only reaction was disgust that they were dumb enough to send the same leaflet twice to the same mailbox. Searching for duplicates in their mailing list is too advanced? As a Curmudgeon I’m revolted by waste. The party of “small government” can’t even be frugal with THEIR OWN money? Forget difficult policy choices, they can’t even be efficient with attack ads. How do these people get dressed in the morning without hurting themselves?
At this point I wouldn’t vote for their guy if he personally came over to my house and cooked dinner. (Well maybe if it was bacon. I really like bacon.)
A few days later I got a nice little leaflet from Candidate X. It was sweet and utterly positive. Good! It also mentioned all the shiny toys she was going to give me. All the great “services” I was going to get for free using the magic tax dollars that apparently materialize from the sky just like rainbows. It was positive stuff but I don’t want any part of it. If I want stuff I’ll earn money and buy it. If I can’t afford it I can’t have it. Free shit from the government is brutally expensive and I refuse to play that game. If I’d gotten a pamphlet that said “I’ll plow the roads minimally and do just enough to keep basic civilization on the rails and then shut the hell up”…I’d be her full time volunteer campaigner.
So now I veered back toward the Republican. Perhaps the guy behind the bile spewing party that represents him is ok? A little reading on the Internet and I’m unimpressed. He looks like a clueless placeholder propped up by a party that wants to disembowel Candidate X. He doesn’t have much to say and unless I’m misreading things he gets as much credit for his campaign as my hammer does for the last structure I built. He’s there but he doesn’t look like he’s really doing much. Is Karl Rove lurking in the bushes somewhere?
What do I do? Vote for a genuine human being who wants the opposite of me? Or vote for a clueless placeholder shoved in my face by a vile, negative, content free, disgusting, wasteful, dare I say it…evil…campaign? Local politics are a shadow of national politics and this isn’t looking like leadership on either side.
Luckily for my mental attitude there is a sunny side. Yesterday I stopped in the small coffee shop in my town (population about 150). When I walked in the door all five customers looked up, recognized a stranger (I don’t hang out in my own town much…I don’t actually live in the village proper and I’m anti-social), and stopped talking. One had a cowboy hat the size of Texas and was a bit younger than the rest. (Though they were all old enough to remember one channel black and white TV. Actually I’m old enough to remember that and they’d beat me in years. I suppose our society of underfed vegan youth roaming city malls with iPods has taught us to expect younger groups.) I smiled to put them at ease and got to work on a monster breakfast. They soon went back to bitching about the weather and hunting regulations. (Around here hunting regulations are a good reason to loathe far off bureaucrats. The pause was because folks here are reticent to show any opinion about anything amid outsiders. It’s a different world from cities where people will scream their opinion at you with a megaphone.)
Eventually someone mentioned he had to get back home and fix his busted truck and the gabfest broke up. As they all stood up and shuffled to the door, the fellow with the monster cowboy hat handed me a business card and shyly asked that I write him in for some small County level position I would hardly recognize. Big smile, friendly attitude, and he apologized for imposing on me in case I wasn’t a voter in the county. (I’m new to this area. It wouldn’t be uncommon for a fellow with a good memory to recognize many of the residents and a sizeable portion of the voters.) I assured him that I was a voter and thanked him for his card. He strode out and was gone.
After breakfast (which was excellent!) I saw most of the guys (including the guy with the hat) peering under the hood of a trashed old Ford Ranger and discussing which parts store was the nearest. Indeed a government of our peers is within our reach. I didn’t see Karl Rove anywhere in sight. The guy with the big hat was the closest thing to “government of our peers…of the people” I’ve seen in a long time. There’s hope if you go far enough down the food chain.
Unless you live under a rock in a monastery in Calcutta you know that the 33 trapped Chilean Miners (which I’ve mentioned before) are now safe. Good job everyone!
I’m shocked and delighted. It’s heartening that such a great opportunity to screw up has passed without mishap. As far as I can tell everybody has acted with class and responsibility. A tip of the hat to Chilean miners!
Since I live in America I can only comment through the filter of American recent history. Thus I’d like to point out a few special lights of nobility which we Americans should emulate.
It’s boring to simply say “man that was a great performance” but that’s all I can say. Chile and the miners have done well. I hope they keep up the good work as they face the next ordeal. Book deals and Oprah spots will arrive en masse. Despite the good fortune (or at least money) that this might bring it’s not without risks of it’s own.
Stay cool gentlemen. The world needs more class acts like you!
I hereby remove them from my list of “The Shafted” and put this entry in “The Unstoppable”.
One of my favorite coffee shops is hosting an art show. They do this regularly and usually I like it. Anything that pretties up the walls is a good thing.
However this particular show apparently has a “purpose”. I know this because it’s plastered all over the write-ups next to every piece of work and all over the works themselves. It’s nearly as subtle as a mallet to the head. The “purpose” is to “raise awareness” that “domestic violence is wrong”.
I’m pretty sure most folks capable of getting to the coffee shop without adult supervision know the score. If you don’t know that domestic violence is wrong then what are you doing walking around zombie-like amid regular human beings? Furthermore we have a whole cadre of people who will help you out with the concept. We call them police. You see it’s not only wrong but it’s a crime.
So, if anyone more evolved than the blue green algae on a wet rock knows that it’s “wrong” and also “a crime”, who is left on earth that is “unaware”? Why is this cretin in my coffee shop? Also is there some law against art which is simply uplifting or beautiful? Is it not art unless it annoys?