Author: esomogyi

31. HARLOW, SKINNER, AND WATSON:
2-1/2 SONSOFBITCHES

You might remember having studied about Harry Harlow back in college.  Harlow was a Harvard psychologist who experimented with young monkeys.  He subjected them to stresses, and showed that monkeys in their cages would have a preference for a terry-cloth surrogate mother monkey instead of a cold, hard, metal one.  The monkeys obviously felt safer and more nourished by the softer of the two mother-replicas.  This was considered a breakthrough discovery.  

[EDITORIAL NOTE FOR SOME WIDER CONTEXT: I don’t know about other species of monkeys, but chimpanzees spend the first five years of their lives basically clinging to their mothers and subsisting on mother’s milk.  The first five years!!!  That kind of creature comfort is VERY important to the developmental life of chimps.  And people too.]

Harlow was severely criticized a generation late, for brutalizing his test subjects, by people who had sympathy for other-than-human mammalian life forms.  He of course had done exactly that — and in so doing irreparably ruined his young monkeys’ lives.  

But rather few people thought in these modern terms at the time.  In fact, Harlow was specifically attempting to show people that young life forms need love and nurturing connection, at a time when a good portion of the American psychological establishment — and especially followers of the Behaviorist theories of John B. Watson (1878-1958) and B.F. Skinner (1904-1990) — did not possess that concept.  

You may also have read about Mr. Watson; he was chairman of the psychology department at Johns Hopkins University.  Skinner’s own illustrious academic history includes having taught at Minnesota University; after that he was chairman of the psychology department at Indiana University; and after that he joined the teaching staff at Harvard.  

Behaviorism believes in stimuli and observable behaviors — essentially, Pavlov’s classical conditioning — but not in anything else.  Certainly not in attempts to understand thoughts, perceptions, needs, and feelings.  Indeed, it makes no allowance for emotions, introspection, the life of the mind or the soul, or anything that cannot be directly observed and measured.  According to the Behaviorists if it cannot be measured it isn’t “real”; only observable behaviors are considered “real”.  Consequently all the things that make life worth living — the life of the spirit, the mind, the soul, the imagination, sympathy, creativity, empathy, beauty, love, and the intuition — are not real and not worth our serious attention.  Neither are feelings of uncertainty, fear, anger, confusion, inspiration, attraction, revulsion, moral repugnance, admiration, respect, playfulness, and gratitude real.  It’s perfectly all right to ignore these entirely.

It’s like the mindset of the society depicted by George Orwell in 1984, the tale of a dystopian futuristic society in which all but the most basic words necessary for communication had been deleted from the language.  Entire categories of human concepts and possibilities disappeared.  The entirety of moral, ethical, emotional, and both meditative and interpersonal human thought were basically eliminated and replaced with basic pragmatic thought. Everything was reduced to the meager and superficial spectrum of: 

  “double-plus good”, 

    “plus good”, 

      “good”, 

        “ungood”, 

          “plus ungood”, and 

              “double-plus ungood”.   Can you imagine theatre, literature, poetry, fiction, biography, etc. using such words?  Or even any intimate, honest, and intelligent conversation?  Any meaningful sense of emotional thought, ethical thought, critical thought, rational thought, or even just plain old human drama will have ceased to exist.

NOTE: George Orwell was British and evidently prescient.  He also wrote Animal Farm (in 1943-44), which is a tale about a very rigid and authoritarian society in which all animals were equal but some were more equal than others.  He was actually writing about the Soviet Union back in those days; he saw it for the brutal dictatorship, cult of personality, and reign of terror that it was . . . at a time when the British intelligentsia held Stalin in high esteem.  Well, Orwell had the clearer vision.  And his timing was good: this book gained popularity because it was published just as the Cold War began and everyone began to dislike and fear the Russians.

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But we were talking about Behaviorism.  In its heyday (and specifically as regarded the rearing of young people) Behaviorism suggested a casual and businesslike relationship between mother and child that was predicated on “technologies of behavior” — precisely the rewarding of desired behaviors and giving negative reinforcement for undesirable ones — exactly as one does with laboratory rats and monkeys — instead of supporting parental attitudes and behaviors of attachment, warmth, love, kindness, moral sense, and affection.  Watson is known for having promoted the idea that picking up a crying baby and attending to its needs was a bad thing to do; the infant “needed” to be conditioned to behave like a reasonable adult.  

Skinner himself was heavily influenced by Watson, and held attitudes in opposition to those of humanistic psychology during his entire career.  Putting it in a nutshell, Skinner thought of behavior as a function of environmental histories of one’s having had reinforcing consequences (you know, what we’d call programming, conditioning, and reinforcing) and nothing more.  His thinking denied that people possessed freedom and dignity and, like Watson, he instead promoted “behavioral engineering” through which people were — and needed to be — controlled through the systematic allocation of external rewards.  Basically, Skinner didn’t see that people were any different from rats or trained seals.  No, I’m not kidding.  

EDITORIAL NOTE: Can you imagine someone being “trained” to be a cook whose food is worth seeking out?  Or to be an artist whose stuff is worth buying?  Or to think mathematically, like any of the mathematicians who come to mind?  Or to be a writer whose stuff is worth reading?  Or to be a good mother or father?  Or to be a good teacher?  Or to be a good athlete?  Or to have a good sense of humor?  I mean, you can train people to be Republicans, or good consumers of goods,  soldiers, C.E.O.s, etc. . . . but none of these are exactly creative occupations.  They’re managers of sorts, who problem-solve on the level of the things that they have been assigned to manage.  “Operant conditioning” does not recognize the world or imagination, nor the world of authentic feelings.

Both Watson and Skinner were influenced by the “operant conditioning” work of Ivan Pavlov — the man who got dogs to salivate upon hearing the sound of a bell.  More than Pavlov, however, Watson and Skinner influenced a great deal of the psychological thinking of the mid-twentieth century, and particularly as it applied to the rearing of children.  These men did incalculable harm to millions of people . . . many of whom, incidentally, are now running our institutions and our country.

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While Skinner lived out his life as a tenured professor at Harvard, Watson capped his career by taking his expertise at classical conditioning away from the pursuit of trying to control children’s development via a “scientifically approved” system of rewards and punishments, and into the world of manipulating adult behaviors — through advertising.  Watson went to work for the J. Walter Thompson advertising agency, where he eventually became wealthy from persuading (i.e., classically conditioning) consumers to buy Pond’s cold cream, Maxwell House coffee, and other such products.  

As far as marketing coffee is concerned, Watson is credited with having invented the coffee break: our reason for buying and drinking lots of coffee.  Right: you drink as much coffee as you do, and Starbucks is as successful as it is, because of John Watson.  But his legacy — as well Skinner’s — also includes being responsible for untold numbers of mothers of that generation buying into being impersonal toward their infants, under the pernicious fantasy that abandoning their children emotionally is good for them; or, at least, that a child’s feelings about being abandoned are irrelevant to anything and should be dismissed.  As I said, these men did incalculable harm to millions of people.  I hope they’re in a place where they need 2,500-power sunblock.

I’m not making any of this up.  If you think I might be, please read up on Watson, Skinner, and Behaviorism – if only on Wikipedia.  But getting back to Harry Harlow, this is a lot of what he was trying to offset, disprove, and counteract in his work.  Parenthetically, from what I’ve read, both Watson and Skinner had shitty childhoods that featured quite a bit of abandonment.  Neither one of them ever examined their own emotional roots, but instead simply ran with how they themselves had been conditioned . . . aided by the boost that they received from being respected and prominent academicians — and, in Watson’s case, a successful businessman.  Talk about reward and reinforcement!!!  It brings to mind former vice-president Dick Cheney’s habit of ONLY listening to Fox news and forbidding liberal journalists from joining his entourages.  I mean, who needs to listen to both sides of a question, right?  

Finally, Harlow wasn’t exactly a paragon of sensitivity either; from what I’ve read, he was a gruff, abusive, and extraordinarily unpleasant person to be around.  Go figure.  It seems to me that, given the dominant modes of thought about parenting that were universally acted out in those generations, no one was brought up feeling appreciated as though they were valuable by themselves (I know that my own parents weren’t brought up like that . . . and because of that neither was I).  For anyone interested in an account of society’s parenting styles of those generations — and of how Skinner, Watson, and Harlow were undoubtedly parented — sit down and read For Your Own Good,  The Drama of the Gifted Child,  and/or Thou Shalt Not Be Aware  by psychoanalyst Alice Miller.

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More later.

20. LIFE AFTER EPIPHANY

I’d been writing about Martin Luther.  Not Martin Luther King; he was one of the good guys.  I mean the Martin Luther who founded Protestantism and became the father of modern-day Evangelicalism – which is the doctrine of salvation by grace through Faith.  Luther is much revered today . . . but he really wasn’t a very nice person.  And he wasn’t in it to help people, as Mr. King was; he was in it to see that people toed the line and Obeyed The Rules of God and the Church.  The line to be toed was the defense of the absolute authority of the Bible, and against those whom Luther considered enemies of Christ. He was firm about that, to the point of denying people who thought differently the right to live.  Luther was a bright example of the Authoritarian Personality . . . but that’s a topic for a separate conversation.

At one point, Martin Luther had had a transformative experience.  And, according to him, that transformation was like being reborn.  Wow.

I had a similar sort of experience last August after I collapsed with episodes of cardiac syncope.  I was taken to the hospital, and came back home five days later with a pacemaker device installed under my left clavicle.  I came home to a wonderful feeling of peace.  I might have died but I hadn’t.  My worldly worries fell away.  It was as though all the mental noise I’d been surrounded by to such an extent that I had stopped hearing it ceased . . . and I was lost in blissful silence.  I saw the Promised Land.  I felt a wonderful sense of Liberation and Calm.  I lost my desire to eat compulsively.  The only responsibility I really felt was to inhale and exhale.  I even wrote about all that in one of my early newsletters.  I guess it was like feeling reborn.  I say “I guess” because I have no other similar experience of my own to compare this one with.

The thing is . . . my old life came back after a while.  Unsurprisingly, getting back to my work all of a sudden, with its responsibilities and appointments and deadlines . . . You know: the concerns.  The worries. The bills. The people and things depending on me.  ALL of these things had fallen away during my “re-birth”.  But none of that had gone permanently away.  And all my old habits came back.  

Well, the body and the brain want to revert to homeostasis; they always want to go back to the way things were.

I don’t know if it works any differently for anyone else who’s had a born-again experience.  Martin Luther started out as a radical and reformer, but ended up as a reactionary and authoritarian.  In other words, he started out as “reasonable” but turned into someone who in the second phase of his life was known for being combative, opinionated, intransigent, and inflexible.  He had his epiphany right between those phases . . . or so he said.  As far as human beings go, having a major insight and turning point is generally accompanied by feelings of liberation and going easy on one’s self and others.  

Martin Luther did not exhibit those symptoms for very long.  He did NOT remain a tolerant, softer, easier-going man who had a wider appreciation of the complexities of life.  He did NOT love his neighbor; in fact, if Luther’s neighbor disagreed with him, he was all for eradicating him.  Like you-know-who also does.

Speaking of “change”, I have a friend who is a very smart and argumentative Conservative.  He can vigorously defend some intellectual positions that make me cringe.  Years ago, he used to be a passionately argumentative Liberal, and even a Radical.  He told me that he experienced a crisis shortly after he, as a young man, got married: he was now in a position of having to take care of a wife and partner, but certainly not in a position to do so economically.  Arguing in support of Marxism will do that, it seems.  My friend emerged from this crisis — like a caterpillar emerging from a cocoon in the shape of a moth — as a Conservative . . . with greatly expanded economic possibilities.  And he took advantage of them.  Unsurprisingly, he was just as passionate and argumentative as ever.  

It was an interesting insight for me when I first understood that he had been an intellectual gunslinger and . . . he continued to be an intellectual gunslinger.  That didn’t change at all.  He was just wearing a different uniform and gunslinging for a different team.  Well, external changes seem to be easier than internal ones, and his desire to win remained unchanged.

One hears of people who have been in prison and “finding Christ” or something equivalent.  They return to society with a newfound need to be helpful — and not to escalate their previous motivations, fury, intransigence, irresponsibility, and lawlessness.  Of course, such transformations are accomplished slowly, over time. Perhaps years.  Martin Luther’s experience was sudden, and seems to have had a short half-life. After the honeymoon was over, he doubled down.  Fiercely.  And he was both incapable of admitting error and unwilling to apologize for it.  That’s a lot like, well, you-know-who.  Both Luther and Trump seem driven by something that eats them from the inside . . . but that they are in denial about.  And probably without the capacity to be self-aware.   It’s sort of like someone who has leprosy but has no idea that he has it.

I’m wondering about how long a half-life others’ experience of anything “liberating” has lasted.  Did they really become different people because of their re-birth?  Have you ever had such an experience”?  Did it stick?  Was it permanent?  

I don’t know; it might have to do with how “rebirth” is defined.  I know of several men who have had very intense combat experiences who, after they left the military, vowed to live a life that was devoid of ANY further violence or killing; they’d seen and done enough of that.  You might think that qualifies as being “reborn” . . . although while it does leave one with a different attitude and focus it does not alleviate them of any of the problems, burdens, or worries about daily life.  They get on with life, without any spiritual or religious afterglow.  If they have been lucky enough to find God, it’s only after having been unlucky enough to need to do so.  And in none of the cases I know about was the transformation accomplished in a moment.  It took a year or two.

Does finding Christ (or having any other kind of rebirth) put one on a path that is free of burdens?  I ask not to cast aspersions, but because I really don’t know.  If any of you out there have any information about the being reborn thing, I’d like to hear about it.  All I can tell you is that I had what amounts to a heavenly vacation — but, for me, the experience of caroming off a single life event (my cardiac problems) as a changed man did not last automatically.  I’ve had to work hard to reclaim and reimagine it.  After a while I needed to go back to work and pick up my shovel and get my hands dirty and start sweating again, if I can put it like that.  That sort of messes with bliss.

Of course, I’m a Taurus, so maybe being reborn just won’t stick.  

But I do know one thing: if you want to change something, it takes practice and repetition.  One has to practice, and to have a practice.  Unless we’re talking trauma, a one-shot intense experience is like newspaper headlines: possibly exciting, but old news by the next day.

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COMIC RELIEF: here’s a joke that might tickle you:

         THE LAW OF DIMINISHING RETURNS:

  1. The sport of choice for the urban poor is BASKETBALL. 

  2. The sport of choice for maintenance level employees is BOWLING.

  3. The sport of choice for front-line workers is FOOTBALL.

  4. The sport of choice for supervisors is BASEBALL.

  5. The sport of choice for middle management is TENNIS.

And . . .

  6. The sport of choice for corporate executives and officers is   GOLF.   

The amazing fact is that the higher you go in the corporate structure, the smaller your balls become.

There must be a boatload of people in Washington playing marbles.

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More later.

19. ON THE MATTER OF ADVERTISING SLOGANS (2/2)

WE’VE been talking about luthiers’ marketing slogans.  They are – like slogans in general — perhaps partly truthful and often entirely superficial, but also cute while benefitting from a good tweak.  In my previous sending I quoted from the Glossary of Advertising Terms and Their Exact Meanings, and commented that most of the examples in it apply to guitar making.

Well, we need only to open any guitar or music publication these days to see what sloganeering strategies are being used by guitar makers to pull customers through their workshop doors to their sales counters . . . and also perhaps see in what ways these can be improved.

        Here are some real-life examples.

TOM RIBBECKE

Take, for instance, luthier Tom Ribbecke’s slogan “The Tradition Continues”.  When broken down into its constituent components and examined critically it gets points for being (1) concise, (2) pithy.  Also, by way of invoking the power of positive associations, it (3) lays claim to the cachet of Being Part of Something Bigger Than Itself — if only something as quotidian as tradition . . . which, as everyone knows, is simply an upscale way of saying the same old thing everybody and their cousin in the biz have been doing in much the same old way all along.  

Well, that’s a downside for sure.  The focal power of this slogan is blunted by Tom’s stated participation in the rather whimsical continuation of this amorphous tradition.  This is as vague and hard to pin down as the location of a fleeing felon, or a Specific Point on a Line.  Surely you remember that from high school geometry. 

The question is: how to improve this?  It’s far better, we think, to tighten this up by taking a Decisive and Authoritative Tone so no one will think Tom is Fooling Around.  A macho echo of the unforgettable and deeply noble statement of personal responsibility once made by one of our Great Presidents would suggest recasting Tom’s slogan into: “The Tradition Stops Here”.  This has got Vintage written all over it!  It has the advantage of locating Tom’s work more firmly in time and unmistakably fixing its contribution to that tradition, while simultaneously suggesting to the consumer that this is all there is, get ‘em while they’re red hot and available, ‘cause This Is It And There Ain’t No More.  Wow!  This really goes for the maximum jugular.

HENRY GUITARS

Another great guitar advertising slogan is Henry Guitars’ “The Sound of Quality Craftsmanship”.  At first sight this is an A-O.K. sentiment.  But a second look reveals its limitations: this is really frighteningly vague and confusing as to referent.  

After all, what sounds of quality craftsmanship, exactly, will this guitar be replicating?  A saw cutting through expensive rosewood?  The groaning sounds of bending and clamping the laminated elements of a designer chair?  A polishing wheel screechily bringing the final luster to a cut glass decanter?  Or a ball-peen hammer skillfully crafting the tone-sections of a steel drum?  Maybe the evocative sounds of someone making a beautiful clay vase?  Or, perhaps, the sound of a wood sculptor using a chainsaw to carve a replica of Michaelangelo’s “David” out of a tree stump?  You see, “The Sound of Quality Craftsmanship” just won’t do.  

We feel this luthier would do better to make a marketing statement that is (a) sufficiently general to bypass the specific criticisms which the existing slogan’s logic invites, but which (b) also is simultaneously Bull’s-Eye Right-On, No-Nonsense, and Claims Decisive Excellence, and which most importantly (c) does not lose the All-Important Nexus With SOUND, which is at the slogan’s heart.  This caveat leads immediately to an improved formulation of the original statement: “Henry Guitars: Much Better Than They Sound!”  There!  Can you see how much more satisfactory this is?  Only the most obtuse reader would fail to be impressed.

HARRY FLEISHMAN

On the ground-floor front, slogan-wise, it is widely known that luthier Harry Fleishman is seeking to expand his new line of classic dovetail-topped guitars and is at this very moment scratching his head over which one-sentence sentiment most effectively will project Buy Me into the minds of his customer base—a tricky problem for all of us, actually.  We would suggest referring to the previous list of slogan-making principles to come up with something classic (no pun intended).  For instance, if Mr. Fleishman would combine the elements of (1) pithiness, (2) humor, (3) claim of excellence and (4) contrast—which are by themselves always an appealing mix—and add to these the kicker of (5) great personal humility, he might just come up with a winner of a slogan such as: “Fleishman: Great Guitars … from a Substandard Guy”.  We call it to his attention.

DAVE MAIZE

Northwest luthier Dave Maize is our point man on political correctness in lutherie and his slogan announces the use of sustainable yield domestic woods.  While this is laudable, we feel that such a thrust would benefit from a bit more oomph than his bald statement that only by implication distances itself from the killing of endangered woods.  We suggest a reformulation of Mr. Maize’s abortive arboreal conscientiousness into something more decisive, like: “I don’t kill exotic trees like other luthiers do.  My instruments are made from woods harvested from trees felled solely by disease, age, natural disaster, beavers, or P.G.&E. malfeasance.  My trademark Petrified Wood Travel Guitars are stronger than Samsonite luggage and have the ultimate in aged sound.  Oh, and no trees are endangered or killed in the making of them!”.  Putting this much information on a business card wouldn’t leave room for Mr. Maize’s name, address, or other information about how to reach him, but we feel strongly that this message would be so compelling that customers would be moved to track him down and find him even if he were in the Federal Luthier’s Protection Program.

ERVIN SOMOGYI

As we underlined previously, we have read with heady bewilderment the plethora of lutherie slogans in the latest issues of all the trade magazines and tried to imagine the average reader’s experience of wading through all the claims made so as to choose their next dream guitar.  It cannot be done.  There are too many luthiers Clamoring Excellence by one standard or another: best value, best sound, best craftsmanship, and most waterproof.  It’s way too confusing.  We also commented on Ervin Somogyi’s brilliantly efficient cutting-to-the-chase-while-also-cutting-out-the-competition slogan of claiming to produce the best guitars anywhere, anytime, and certainly of all the ones mentioned in this or that magazine.  

Well, Somogyi has improved on that in his current campaign – by enlisting the influence of someone with Official Power and Authority to speak for him!  (That way, he’s not going to be selfishly lying about his own products.)  Accordingly, Somogyi now attaches the following official statement to all his posts:  

SURGEON GENERAL’S WARNING: It has been determined that the sound of Somogyi guitars is so intoxicating that users are warned against playing them while driving or operating heavy machinery.

We think that this will also put in their place the envious wags who, for instance, amend the slogan “NOTHING sounds better than a Somogyi guitar” by bitterly adding the bon mot of: “Much better, in fact”. 

RAINSONG GUITARS

Finally, the previous mention of waterproof brings us to Rainsong Guitars, which are facing tremendous marketing challenges.  The fact that they are made entirely of synthetic and water-repellent materials forms the thrust of much of their advertising, in which water-resistance has been prominently and repeatedly mentioned.  

The manufacturers have clearly decided that their guitars’ relation to WATER is key.  As such, we must recognize that this hasn’t been developed to its full potential.  According to selling rules #5 (hyperbole), #8 (think big), #9 (moral rectitude), and #13 (think even bigger) of the Businessman’s Marketing Guidelines, the advertisers should immediately drop mention of water on the level of mere rain.  Rain is way too humble and ordinary, while this calls for Something Huge and Epic.  Much better to invoke Really Big Important Bodies of Water, and Equally Big Geopolitical Realities Associated With Big Important Bodies of Water — such as the Panama Canal. We modestly suggest: “A Man, A Plan, a Canal, A Guitar . . . Rainsong!!! — and, oh, by the way, we don’t kill trees like those other luthiers do”.  And see those sales lines jump off the charts.

Space and time limitations force us to stop here on this important topic, but you get the idea.  This message has been brought to you courtesy of A.F.C.I. (The American Federation of the Conceptually Impaired) — where friends don’t let friends make guitars. 

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EDITORIAL NOTE: this humorous and totally un-serious article was written several years ago, with the permission of everyone mentioned.  Well, pretty much.  Somogyi objected at first; but we sent Guido and Vinnie, our . . . uh . . . motivational facilitators, to have a talk with him and he quickly changed his mind — and then also generously offered to defray their considerable traveling expenses out of pocket.

18. ADVERTISING SLOGANS FOR GUITAR MAKERS

I’ve been taking a class in marketing and have learned a lot.  Marketing for handmade guitars such as the ones I make has not been well studied.  The luthier’s slogan is the luthier’s initial statement about his work to the yet unseen customer that creates the all-important first impression; and the crucial importance of The Right Slogan is often overlooked.  Slogans are effective insofar as they are concise, immediate, and serve to encapsulate a complex message into an easy to assimilate sound-byte sized phrase or sentence.  It is the way of the new millennium, and everybody knows this.

The raison d’etre of the slogan is to get the client’s attention and invoke a receptive mental state in him.  An effective slogan is formed by strict adherence to principles of marketing long known to professionals in important fields such as advertising and politics.  These are: pithiness, contrast, understatement, humor, hyperbole, mellifluous glibness, humility, claim to excellence, authority of tone, and flat-out lying. There’s also Putting Down The Competition … but we’re honest people and we don’t do that. We leave that to the politicians.

We have received a Glossary of Advertising Terms and Their Exact Meanings from the Sum, Wan, & Orother Advertising Corporation of Compton, California.  It is a primer for education about some basic building blocks to successful sloganeering.  Amazingly, all their examples apply to lutherie. Here is a sampling:

Improved: some of the most obvious faults eliminated

New Improved: we also changed the box

All-purpose: does a mediocre job in several ways

Jumbo: too big to fit in the airplane’s overhead compartment

Compact: understanding or agreement (such as our no refund policy)

Disposable:  can be used only once

Durable: can be used twice

Delicate: breaks easily

Fine:  imposition of a monetary penalty

Subtle: inaudible or invisible

Compensated nuts and saddles: these have been paid for

Fun Stuff #3

SOME (OFF THE) WALL HUMOR

A journalist who works for a newspaper in Jerusalem lives near his office, and he walks to and from work every day.  His walk takes him right past the famous Wailing Wall.  [NOTE: This is the remaining wall of the original Temple of Solomon that was destroyed by the Romans two thousand years ago, but that has become a holy shrine for people to come to and pray.  They pray, write prayers on notes and place them between the cracks in the stones, and so on.  A lot of them cry.]

The journalist walks past this twice a day . . . and twice a day, without fail, for months on end, he sees this old fellow standing at the far end, in a prayerful attitude.  Eventually, curiosity gets the better of him and he decides to approach this prayerful stranger.

He introduces himself, and says that he sees this fellow at prayer all the time . . . and he got curious . . . and wanted to know if he could ask what the fellow is praying for.

The old fellow explains that he’s had a good life, he’s comfortably off, and that he doesn’t need material possessions . . . so he prays for world peace.

“That’s amazing”, the journalist says.  “What dedication and generosity of spirit.  How is it for you, to do that, all this time?”

The old fellow replies, “it’s like talking to a fuckin’ wall!”.

37. ON JEWISH CULTURE . . . AND HUMOR

I’ve been writing about Jews and the Bible, and Jewish culture . . . which brings me to the matters of  jokes and humor and silliness as expressed in different cultures.  As far as jokes go, University of California folklorist Alan Dundes has written some wonderful books about the folklore of humor . . . and humor in folklore . . . across different cultures.  Jewish humor, in particular, comes in various forms: there’s American Jewish humor, which is largely based in stereotypes (focus on merchants and money, marriage, my-son-the-doctor, mothers and mothers-in-law, big noses, Jewish princesses, hypochondria, God in the desert, etc.).  There’s also Eastern European Jewish humor, which is based in irony and a darkish view of the world; but of course that sensibility was fermented in a rather pessimistic and oppressed culture.   ‘Authentic’ Jewish humor is dark dark dark.  And, not surprisingly, Western European Jewish humor is colored by the culture of the specific country in question: Germany, Spain, France, England, etc.  I am having trouble imagining Scandinavian Jewish humor, although I assume that there must be some.  I’ve heard German humor; I honestly don’t understand much of it . . . although Germans laugh a lot at it anyway.

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Anyway, here’s an example of ‘authentic’ Eastern European Jewish humor.  

Two men are talking.

One says: “Life is hard”. 

He pauses thoughtfully, and then he continues.  He says: “Life is so hard . . . that death doesn’t seem like such a bad thing”.

After a bit more thinking he says, with finality: “In fact, life is so hard that it’s better to never have been born”.

His friend listens, and says: “You’re right.  But how many people are so lucky?  Maybe only one in ten thousand!”

See?  It’s pretty dark.

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Here’s another, less dark and more stereotypical, Joke:

A Frenchman, and Englishman, a German, and a Jew are mountain climbing.  [This is how I heard this joke; notice how it’s three Nationalities vs. a Religion?  What, there are no English, German, or French Jews??!?]  About halfway up the mountain they take a lunch break and discover that they’ve forgotten to bring any water along with them.  They’re really parched and thirsty.  And there’s no other water anywhere near.  The climbers begin to imagine their favorite thirst quenchers.

Weak from dehydration, the Frenchman says: “I . . . must . . . 

have . . . wine!”

Panting from thirst, the Englishman can barely croak out: “I . . . must . . . have . . . tea!”

The parched German says: “I . . . must . . . have . . . beer”.

The very thirsty Jew says:  “I . . . must . . . have . . . diabetes!”

Sorry about that.

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And here’s one from Alan Dundes’ book on Eastern European Jewish humor.  It lacks the stereotypical touch but makes up for it by being a bit on the dark side:

A man stands in front of a house in one of the less respectable neighborhoods in Bratislava.  He knocks on the door.  No response.  He knocks again, more loudly.

A second-floor window opens and a man sticks his head out.  “What do you want?”, he asks.

“I’m looking for Goldstein, the baker”, he replies.

“He doesn’t live here”, says the second-story guy.

“What’s your name?”, asks the visitor.

“Goldstein”, replies the man at the window.

“Are you a baker?”, asks the man at the door.

“Yes”, replies the man above.

“Well, how can you tell me that Goldstein the baker doesn’t live here?”, asks the visitor.

Goldstein looks around at the decrepit surrounding neighborhood, and says: “You call this living??”.

Better be careful next time you go to Bratislava.

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Have you noticed that the funniest people, the ones with the most active sense of humor, wit, etc., are the ones who’ve had the worst childhoods and the most difficult life experiences?   If you pay attention, I think you’ll find this to be true.  Who else would have a NEED to see life through that kind of lens?  I believe that the same principle applies in general to the historical difficulties and challenges that have resulted in national, ethnic, etc. humor.

As far as Jewish humor is concerned, I learned about its origin recently from a lecture from one of the faculty in Ethnic Studies at U.C. Berkeley.  It’s an interesting story.

The Jews, as we all know, had been dispersed all over the Western world: all over Europe, and over into Eastern Europe.  That’s known as the Jewish Diaspora.

In the 1500s there were a series of brutal pogroms in Eastern Europe.  (A pogrom is to Jews what race riots and lynchings have been to Southern blacks.)  Those pogroms were a problem for the Jewish community because they couldn’t figure out what they had done to offend God sufficiently that he allowed this to happen.  Seriously.  The Jews thought that if they could stop annoying God he’d stop hitting them over the head with the Cossacks.

They thought and thought and debated . . . through the filter and lens of the Torah, of course . . . and finally decided that they’d offended God by laughing too much.  So they decided to outlaw comedians.  Really.  I am not joking here.  They banned all comedians and revelry makers.  Go figure.  They thought God would like them more if they were serious people.

However, no people can survive without some  form of humor.  So the Jews allowed one category of “humorist” to exist: the bodchan. That’s pronounced bud-Hun, with a guttural “h”.  The bodchan  was the Medieval king’s jester’s evil twin; his job was to make fun of people.  The bodchan  said unkind things, especially at weddings.  He goaded people.  He would insult them.  Think Don Rickles; Don Rickles would have made a superb bodchan.  I’ve seen him in action and he was amazingly quick with his pointed jibes.  Anyway, in the past, at Jewish weddings, the bodchan would, for example, reduce the bride to tears with his descriptions of how she would soon be a wrinkled old hag with grey hair, brought down by disease and illness.  And ditto everybody else.

Well, you get the point.  For a long time, that was the only permitted Jewish humor.  Make people hurt until they laugh.  Or cry.  Well, life was hard, so why not?

From that, there arose an ironic sensibility of the world that mellowed a bit over the centuries . . . and by the time America made a place for such a thing in Vaudeville it had morphed into a very wry and self-effacing form of communication.  It had the bite and irony of containing a bit of truth, but now without sounding so horribly bad.  Think Henny Youngman (“Take my wife . . . . . . . . please”) or Rodney Dangerfield (“My luck is so bad that if I bought a cemetery people would stop dying”.)  That kind of humor worked because those narratives were based in living life, and witnessing its imperfections and disappointments from up close, rather than in the more simple-minded two-dimensional stereotypes, wit and puns, putdowns, or outright insults.  Oscar Wilde exercised tremendous wit and cleverness, but he was merely brilliantly ironic; his material wasn’t dark material.  He hadn’t suffered enough to do that.  As for me, I’m very comfortable with Jewish ironic humor.  My brain comes up with that kind of stuff.  I believe that the fundamental building blocks of the universe are Nitrogen, Hydrogen, Oxygen, and Irony.

Anyway, that’s the history that such a sensibility all came out of.  Isn’t that interesting to know?

Speaking of Rodney Dangerfield, whose self-ironic humor I’ve always liked . . . his spin on humor touches on a form of rhetoric that the Greeks called paraprosdokion (sometimes spelled paraprosdokian).  Paraprosdokion, as I’m certain you all know, is a form of rhetoric in which there are two parts, and in which the second part denies or undercuts the first one.  Or modifies it in a subtly humorous way.  A lot of American humor used to be of this type: comic one-liners or two-liners that had a comically self-contradictory feel.  Like Rodney Dangerfield’s delivery.  Will Rogers and George Allen were pretty good at it too.

Here are some examples of paraprosdokion.  They range from the funny to the not-so-funny:

I asked God for a bike, but I know God doesn’t work that way.
So I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness.

He has hit rock bottom
and has begun to excavate.

I want to die peacefully in my sleep like my grandfather,  
not screaming and yelling like the passengers in his car.

The last thing I want to do is hurt you. 
But it’s still on the list.

Light travels faster than sound. 
This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.

If I agreed with you
we’d both be wrong.

They hired a band that was so lousy
that every time a waiter dropped a tray we all got up and danced.

Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit;
Wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.

I have so much
to be humble about.

I was brought up to respect my elders. 
I’m just having a hard time finding any these days.

Whenever I fill out an application, in the part that says “If an emergency, notify:”
I put “DOCTOR”.

I didn’t say it was your fault,
I said I was blaming you.

I saw a woman wearing a sweatshirt with “Guess” on it…
so I said “Implants?”

I’ve had a wonderful evening. 
Unfortunately, it wasn’t this one.

He took umbrage
when I called him a thief.

Behind every successful man is his woman.
Behind the fall of a successful man is usually another woman.

If at first you don’t succeed . . .
well . . . then maybe sky-diving really isn’t for you.

I want to make you feel at home,
even though I wish you were. 

I discovered I scream the same way whether I’m about to be devoured by a great white shark
or if a piece of seaweed touches my foot.

Some cause happiness wherever they go.
Others whenever they go.

I used to be indecisive.
Now I’m not sure.

I always take life with a grain of salt,
plus a slice of lemon, and a shot of tequila.

When tempted to fight fire with fire,
remember that the Fire Department usually uses water.

He was at his best when the going was good.

Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be.

Some people hear voices.  Some see invisible people.
Others have no imagination whatsoever.

I’m a Scorpio,
so I don’t believe in Horoscopes.  

Where there’s a will,
I want to be in it.

He started out with nothing,
and through sheer hard work and determination made his way to the very highest point on the Bell Curve.

I was approached by a man who told me he hadn’t eaten in three days. 
I said to him, “my dear man, you must force yourself”.

If all the debutantes from Vassar were laid end to end . . .
well, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised.

Nothing is better than having dinner with you. 
Much better, in fact.

I’m glad you’ve rested your case. 
It’s weak.  It needs the rest.

He really turned the situation around
a full 360 degrees.

I think you should put your money where your mouth is,
and ignore the fact that money has a lot of germs.

He started out with nothing,
and has retained most of it.

Never wrestle with a pig. 
You’ll both get filthy, and the pig will enjoy it.

If you have a stack of applications on your desk, throw the first ten of them out.
You don’t want to hire unlucky people.

Sex at age 90 is . . .
like trying to shoot pool with a rope.

He put out a good vibe. 
I mean, he squelched it completely.

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More later.

25. MARTIN LUTHER AND THE LAW [2/2]

and SOME AMERICAN HISTORY,  or “KEEPING PEOPLE IN LINE” vs. “HELPING THEM”

MUSINGS, NO. 25, written in 2022  

Part 2 of  2

I’ve been talking (writing?) about incompatible views of the proper functions of government . . . and the mindsets that support such incompatible opinions.  This is a continuation of that topic.

Those incompatible mindsets are formed early in life, and they are formed entirely unconsciously.  No kid sits down to think about the ethics of abortion, for instance; he/she learns that from how his/her parents feel.  Ditto re: households in which the power structure is patriarchal, or dictatorial, or hierarchical, or egalitarian, or racist, or whatever else.  Those attitudes are installed — and deeply so — by age four or five.  Whatever you may ever go into therapy to deal with, it’ll go back to then.  Everything else is simply a metaphor, or vehicle, for those early-learned attitudes and mindsets.

Here’s something interesting.  It was only relatively recently that, in our own history, anyone in authority thought to make sure that “the people” had enough to eat; up until then it was most certainly every man for himself.  You know, Social Darwinism and all that.  This new idea came to the fore with the Democrats under Franklin Roosevelt — out of the desperate straits of the Depression.  Roosevelt rolled out help and aid programs of all kinds: the New Deal, the Works Progress Administration, social security and health care . . . etc.  The Republicans have been fighting that mindset ever since.  

I think of them as the “Throw People Off The Raft” Party.

Historically, it was the Roman Empire that first had the idea that the government had a responsibility to ensure that the people had enough to eat.  Isn’t that amazing?  They were the first.  

But they had to.  They were, after all, managing a “tribe” in which most members didn’t know the others, and certainly weren’t related to any of them, and would have had no reason to look out for any of them.  Without a “government” to hold things together, all the groups and tribes and factions would be at each other’s throats in no time.  And Rome itself was huge . . . and needed a steady food supply.  It was like the United States is today, actually — with the added bonus that our government is, under Trump, alienating all of our former allies while simultaneously having anal sex with Russia, our former biggest enemy.  Wow.  Even science fiction types couldn’t make this stuff up.

The IDEA that the government should make sure that the people had enough to eat was, in fact, the Communist idea also.  It didn’t turn out to work that way in Russia, as we all know.  Still, the Scandinavian and European countries have “Socialized Medicine”, and that seems to be working better than our own paltry efforts at national “non-Socialized” health care.  As far as the Republicans go, their platform is that people should get the health care that they can afford, and in the last political campaign Mitt Romney actually poo-pooed working people’s idea that they thought they had a right to health care.  

Well, it’s hard to miss the complete absence of any sense that the Republicans, as prosperous citizens, have ANY responsibility for their less prosperous fellow citizens.  They see the government as TAKING THEIR MONEY AWAY FROM THEM in the form of taxes . . . but without wondering what things such as medicine, education, health, and services to the community [that paid the taxes!] the government might use it for.  It’s just too difficult a concept for them.

It makes one ill.  But on the other hand: wow.  Who knew that Franklin Roosevelt was a Communist!?  Well, he was!  He made efforts to distribute to the people what the people needed, both in the second half of the Great Depression and World War II.

And still, all that considered — insofar as it is a good and decent idea for a government to look out for its citizens — our own Republic didn’t lift much of a finger to help with the feeding-everyone effort while the Communists were advertising that that was their ultimate goal.  Our own ruling class saw doom and upper-class bankruptcy in the Communist scenario, and the U.S. fought the Communists and their egalitarian ideas tooth and nail.

Well, we all know that “Communism failed”.  It might have done so anyway, of its own internal complications, and without our help.  But we don’t know that.  We did help.  And our help was MASSIVE: we opposed, fought, resisted, propagandized, disinformed, misinformed, undermined, blackballed, vilified, and attacked Communists and Communism in every way we could, and justified our every move by pointing to their nefariousnesses.  Any government under that kind of assault will not be free to develop in peaceful ways.  

By “our own ruling class”, as I mentioned above, I mean pretty much anyone who made a lot of money by hook or by crook and has become part of “the American way”; that is, after all, the principal social message that any and all schools will have taught.  Or, if they didn’t teach it, they certainly never examined or questioned the principal pillars of American though.  These are the “we’re-the-good-guys” trope, the “right-to-get-ahead” part of the American Dream, and the Sanctity-of-Private-Property promoters.  

That has of course spread far and wide: and the propaganda got so thick that you could be lynched in the South if someone called you a Communist.  Under the highly alcoholic senator Joe McCarthy many people got persecuted, prosecuted, fired, blacklisted, boycotted, injured, etc. for thinking Communism was a good idea.  Yes, we all know that Communism failed. But the idea of it was nonetheless excellent: that everyone chips in and participates in a classless society.

The main idea was that You Should And Will Get Yours (“from everyone according to their ability to everyone according to their needs”) . . . but You Shouldn’t And Will Not Get Anyone Else’s.  Here, if you’ve noticed, the 1% has gotten the 99%’s share.  The financial world certainly stole a bunch of everyone else’s in the 2008 fiasco . . . and no one has rectified any of it.  Nor will they, from what I can see.  Well, neither Hillary Clinton nor Donald Trump hinted that this was going to be a plank of their platform, in the past election.  And I don’t hear whispers about it in the election to come.

Well, the F.B.I. was going to take care of the Communist problem; its mandate was to oversee Domestic law and order.  (The C.I.A., born out of the earlier O.S.S., had the task of overseeing Un-domestic law and order.)  It was, therefore, the F.B.I.’s main job to get rid of all the domestic Communists (well, the ten most wanted criminals too, but mainly the Communists).  

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However, the F.B.I. allowed the Communist party to remain active in this country.  Yes, it did.  

And why did it do so?  Well, mostly because it needed bad guys.  The F.B.I. understood that once the Communists were gone it would have no reason to exist.  It would be out of a job.  There weren’t enough “ten most wanted” people to keep that many F.B.I. people employed.

I was told this many years ago by an old Communist fellow who knew this history.  I’ve never read about this, by the way; and neither have you. Why would we have?  It’s simply the most credible political strategy scenario imaginable.

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How things have changed.  I was saying that individuals will have internalized the imperative to uphold the function of the Government to “keep things in line”, as far as their sociopolitical lives go.  This will have been internalized as a rule for running their own personal and family lives as well.  

THE CURRENT SITUATION:

I’ve created a life for myself via making guitars.  I learned it by exercising hand skills, perceptual skills, analytical skills, and experienced common sense.  I have the sense that I now live in a world in which hand skills and common sense are less and less needed.  Well, electronic devices and computers have taken over.  By the same token, I seem to live in a world in which following one’s conscience and common sense of humanity is less and less the thing to do.  Especially by those who have influence and power they feel the need to defend.  Exercise of conscience and common sense appear to have been replaced by “following policy” or “following the rules”.  This seems to me quite true in the realm of politics — particularly the politics of the Right — as well as the corporate (financial, manufacturing, medical and scientific) sectors.   

You know, “carry out the Policy and don’t complicate things or waste time by being nice, empathetic, helpful, or a bleeding heart to people”.  

I probably sound like I’m overstating this, but that last part is very absent in today’s politics.  All you have to do is listen to any current official’s explanation of how the government has to separate illegals from their children.  And there’s Kelly Ann Conway’s famous “alternate facts” spin.  They mean it.  This is these functionaries’ job description.  It has to be, because of party policy.  And they’re paid to carry it out.

I wrote about this aspect of the plight of “illegals” in my last newsletter.  “It’s Disneyland for the kids”; someone actually said that . . . as the children live in cages without their families nearby, and “supervised” by people assigned to feed them, make sure none of them get too sick or try to escape.  The official line is: “well, we don’t want to do that, but it’s unavoidable; the main thing is that we have to keep the nation safe.”  Basically, it’s “we have no choice”.  I keep on hearing that on news programs.

I got an interesting email in response to my thoughts, from a friend; he wasn’t happy with the separating of families and children but, but he did make a point of letting me know that these people were here illegally and that we were merely sending them back to their own countries.

I don’t wish to start fights with people.  But it seems to me that this little conversation contains two entirely separate issues.  On the one hand, well, yes, they’re not here legally, and something ought to be done about that.  On the other hand — and I seem to be emphasizing this one in my own mind — how does that entitle anyone to mistreat them?  

I don’t need to tell you that the countries that many of the refugees are coming from (Mexico, Honduras, Nicaragua, Syria, Iraq, some African countries, etc.) are DANGEROUS to live in, do I?  I guess that my thinking focuses on how untenable it is to live in those countries, as opposed to the fact that those people were born in those countries and should stay there if they don’t have the papers with which to immigrate here.  Would that life were that easy and hold on as I peel my blood pressure off the ceiling.  

As I’ve written before, my family and I are/were Hungarian immigrants.  We left Europe after the second world war, along with millions of people who had been displaced by that war, whose lives had been destroyed, and who wanted a new beginning.  In our case we left Hungary and went to Austria.  Then we moved to England.  Then we moved to Cuba.  Then we moved to Mexico.  No one wanted us. 

Is this sounding familiar? 

We did arrive here in the U.S. “legally” in 1959, after 14 years of wandering.  World War 2 was over as of 1945.  Plus, I think my parents knew we’d get in if we waited long enough (the U.S. was “the good guys” back in those days, much more than it is now).

I don’t think it works like that for the refugees I just mentioned, though.  Their nations are quite active areas of poverty, disease, and civil war.  And it is largely civil war that is supported by various world powers – us included.  That’s really different than the situation my parents and I faced.

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After World War II Cuba was one of two countries on this side of the Atlantic that accepted refugees without quota limitations.  The other was Ecuador.  So, those who didn’t want to rot away in some European internment camp flocked to Cuba or Ecuador, just to have a place to rest until they could figure out what to do with the rest of their lives.  Those became staging areas.  And from them expatriate Europeans moved on to Canada, the United States, Latin America, Palestine, Australia, back to Europe, or even Africa.  My family and I were part of that flow of humanity.  And we knew what it felt like to be strangers in a strange land, whom no one wanted and who would have been persecuted as “illegals” had we snuck in somewhere.  A lot like today’s Muslims and Mexicans.  These can be considered this administration’s M & Ms.   And they don’t have staging areas like Cuba and Ecuador to escape to.

Eventually, my family and I got green cards.  And here we are.

Here’s a question that I don’t have a good answer for.  An awful lot of Americans are from immigrant stock.  How can they feel this way about the next wave of people who are on that same track?  

What’s that?  What did you say?  Oh, we’re white and they’re not?  They lack the skills and education the U.S. needs?  Yeah, that explains it.  And they hate the U.S.?  What was I thinking?  And of course we did take in the Jews, the Italians, the Irish and the Scots of “the Celtic migration”, and other Europeans; these have been here a while and have by now become “American” – everything that the wanna-bes are not.  Pardon me for saying it but, from what I can see, that includes not being white.  Darker skinned people may or may not hate the U.S. . . . but what they all mainly want is to be able to feed their families and live in peace.  

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Just so.  As I try to put all these pieces together so that they make some sense to me I’m left with the conclusion that beauty, sympathy, charity, and kindness toward others seem to be quite useless in the minds of . . . well . . . Evangelicals, xenophobes, anti-gays, Tea Party people, America Firsters, and such.  They’re certainly useless and pointless in the struggles against the people who are now being labeled as bad and dangerous.  At least, that’s what it seems like from what I’m seeing and hearing.  

I probably sound very facetious in saying this, but I’m being straight.  It really doesn’t matter whether anyone thinks I’m saying that those are bad people or not; that’s beside the point.  I’m saying that the “nationalists” seem to think*** like that.  The qualities I named seem to not be useful to those people.  If they were useful or valued, well, they’d use them.  Would they not?

*** “Think” is such a silly-sounding word.  Try saying it to yourself a few times.  Doesn’t it sound like someone clanking a fork on some plumbing pipes?

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Aldous Huxley, in his book Brave New World, describes a futuristic society in which everyone kowtows to Big Brother; everyone participates in the daily five minutes’ hate that is directed against whoever big brother doesn’t like that week.  Once a week, everything stops for five minutes and people focus their hatred on someone or some group.

Behold Fox news and Rush Limbaugh.

Man, those scare me.  Hatred, hatred, hatred.  It’s like Germany before World War 2.  Can we be reassured by the fact that the current White House’s [Donald Trump’s] staff has already many times the turnover that Adolph Hitler’s staff did?  It’s like a tire that’s had sixty or seventy re-treads.  If anyone has any helpful insights into this, I’d be interested in hearing them.

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HERE’S SOME HUMOR ABOUT SOMETHING USELESS:

Paddy, the Irishman, walks into his favorite pub one afternoon.  Well, he’s not actually walking; he’s limping and dragging his leg.  

He’s covered in scrapes and black-and-blue marks.  His arm’s in a sling and he has a bandage wrapped around his head.

The barman looks at him in shock and says, “Paddy!  What happened to ye?”

Paddy replies, “Tim O’Malley gave me a beatin’ ”.

The barman, still shocked, asks, “what did he beat you with?”

Paddy replies, “he beat me with a shovel”.

“Well”, says the barman, “ ‘tis a fine beatin’ he gave ye, I can see.  But did ye no’ have anything in your hand you could defend yourself with?”

“Aye, I did”, says Paddy.  “Mary O’Malley’s breast.  ‘Twas a thing of rare beauty . . .  but I have to tell ye, honestly, t’was useless in a fight”.

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The Harvard-like Test

This is based upon typical graduation requirements at Harvard.  Try to finish within 5 minutes.  When you are done, count the number correct and see how you compare to others. OK, here we go…

1. Is there a 4th of July in England? Yes or no?

 2. How many birthdays does the average man have?

 3. Some months have 31 days. How many have 28?

 4. How many outs are there in an inning?

 5. Can a man in California marry his widow’s sister?

 6. Take the number 30, divide it by 1/2, and then add 10. What do you get?

 7. There are 3 apples and you take two away. How many apples are you left with?

 8. A doctor gives you three pills and tells you to take one every half an hour.  How long will the pills last?

 9. A farmer has 17 sheep. All but 9 of them die. How many sheep are left?

10. How many animals of each sex did Moses bring with him on the ark?

11. A butcher in the market is 5’10” tall. What does he weigh?

12. How many 2 cent stamps are there in a dozen?

13. What was the President’s name in 1960?

NO CHEATING

So how do you think you did?

(Answers below.)

TEST ANSWERS:

1. Is there a 4th of July in England? Yes or No?

     Yes. It comes right after the 3rd.

2. How many birthdays does the average man have?

     One (1). You can only be born once.  The others are birthday anniversaries.

3. Some months have 31 days. How many have 28?

     Twelve (12). All of them have at least 28 days.

4. How many outs are there in an inning? Six (6).

     Don’t forget there is a top and bottom to every inning.

5. Can a man in California marry his widow’s sister?

     No. He must be dead if it is his widow.

6. Take the number 30, divide it by 1/2, and then add 10. What do you get?

     Seventy (70); thirty (30) when divided by 1/2 is 60.

7. There are 3 apples and you take two away. How many apples are you left with?

     Two (2). YOU take two apples . . . therefore YOU have TWO apples.

8. A doctor gives you three pills and tells you to take one every half an hour.

     How long will the pills last?

     One hour. If you take the first pill at 1:00, the second at 1:30,

     and the third at 2:00, the pills have run out and only one hour has passed.

9. A farmer has 17 sheep. All but 9 of them die.

     How many sheep are left?

     Nine (9). Like I said, all BUT nine die.

10. How many animals of each sex did Moses have on the ark?

     None. Moses never had an ark.

11. A butcher in the market is 5′ 10 tall.  What does he weigh?

     Meat … that is self-explanatory.

12. How many 2 cent stamps are there in a dozen?

     Twelve (12). How many eggs are in a dozen? TWELVE … it’s a dozen.

13. What was the President’s name in 1960?

     George Bush. As far as I know, he hasn’t changed his name.

So, how did you do?

13 correct………GENIUS…you are good.

10-12 correct….ABOVE AVERAGE…but don’t let it go to your head.

7-9 correct……..AVERAGE…but who wants to be average?

4-6 correct……..SLOW…pay attention to the questions!

1-3 correct………IDIOT…what else can be said?

0 correct…………CONGRATULATIONS, you are a certified MORON

    – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – <> – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

HERE’S A RIDDLE FOR YOUR ENJOYMENT.  IF YOU’RE LESS THAN 12 YEARS OLD YOU’LL  HAVE FIGURED  IT OUT EASILY.  IF YOU’RE  30 OR OLDER,  IT MAY WELL STUMP  YOU:

A COWBOY RIDES INTO TOWN AT NOON ON FRIDAY.

TWO DAYS LATER, HE RIDES OUT OF TOWN, AT EXACTLY NOON, ON FRIDAY.

HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?

FRIDAY IS THE NAME OF HIS HORSE.

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21. MARTIN LUTHER & THE LAW [1/2]

(Or: “KEEPING PEOPLE IN LINE” vs. “CATERING TO THEIR NEEDS”)

“Newsletter” No. 21, written in 2020

Part 1 of  2

I’ve been writing on and off about Martin Luther, the mental and spiritual spark plug behind the European Reformation of 500 years ago.  His influence lives on in various versions of social belief and outlook, among American Evangelicals of all stripes, and in the Alt Right, and among Neo-Conservative groups.  Not to mention in newly re-emerging conservative, racist, and nationalist groups all over Europe.

Luther’s most earnestly argued contribution to society appears to have been his championing of the rights and privileges of the Authoritarian Personality.  Luther stood for the position that everyone should be subject to the governing authorities.  Well . . . one would need to understand the historical context within which this idea first lifted its head, in order to more fully understand that dictum better than this single bald sentence can explain anything.  However, I can give you the short version.  

Luther himself left a record that shows him to have been an explosively belligerent, intransigent, and uncompromising defender (propagandist? shill?) for his view of things.  His message was that Faith alone would save one, and that otherwise the proper function of government was to Impose Order.  The proper function of government was NOT to be Helpful, Sympathetic, or Supportive of its citizens’ various human needs.  

In other words, “Governing Authority” was there to keep those in line who had insufficient Faith and/or trust . . . in . . . uh . . . God, and also the government authority.  That’s rather circuitous, but I think Luther’s message really did boil down to this.  And it certainly is more fun for whoever is in power and authority.  Well, Authoritarianism certainly was the European model for civic behavior, as well as for child rearing, all the way through my parents’ generation — particularly in the Germanic countries.  I believe that it still is so in the Germanic countries . . . and no doubt other ones as well.  

My own family is European and my father treated all of us as his personal property.  Well, that’s exactly how and what he’d been taught.  His job was to “impose order” by getting the rest of us to obey him.  It was NOT his job to advise, act as a model, to support us personally or emotionally or sympathetically or morally, nor to philosophize or problem-solve.  He didn’t have much of a clue about any of that that.  But of course, he wouldn’t have: he was brought up in exactly the same way — but with much more physical punishment than he imposed on me.  So kudos for him for acting better in that way.  He merely frightened the shit out of me.

For my father and people who have been brought up as he was, everything is a struggle for power and control . . .  and even survival . . . precisely as even the smallest thing appears to be for Donald Trump.  He has NO sense of scale, perspective, boundaries, or proportion.  He has to be Respected and Obeyed.  For him, being criticized by a nine-year old seems to hold the same charge as being dissed by the leader of another nation.  Never mind that the nine year old is not likely to have nuclear weapons.  

NARCISSISTIC INJURIES

There is the concept of the “narcissistic injury” in contemporary psychology.  This is code for “a psychological injury that is so massive that it makes one feel that one has ceased to exist”.  This probably sounds fanciful, and a mere sentence like what I just wrote doesn’t at all do justice to the reality of the experience.  But I’ve seen such things happen and can vouch for the fact that they really do exist.  

I think it’s likely that most people have seen a bit of this kind of thing but have had no category of experience or knowledge to put it into.  If you’ve ever seen anyone in a mindless rage that they are powerless to stop, or seen someone completely collapse into a helpless puddle, then you’ve seen a narcissistic collapse too . . . perhaps without understanding what you were seeing.

Some people have so little sense of self, and have a personality that is so fragile, that it takes rather little to make them feel that they have ceased to exist.  As I said before, such sentences really don’t convey what that’s like. But, really: one’s sense of self and one’s sense of existing in the world disappears completely.  That is what the psychological literature is actually describing.  One minute one might be cooking dinner and the next thing one finds one’s self in an internal black vacuum of nothingness . . . in some dimension for which there are no words . . . just as infants have no words.  

Or, imagine that you’re in a department store surrounded by hundreds of objects, merchandise, things, colors, sounds, etc.  Then, POW!  It’s all gone and you’re in a large, empty, silent, and dark room . . . or in a room that’s chaotic with too-bright, colors, changing shapes, and loud sounds.  Either way, you have the primitive mental powers of a freaked out five-month old.

The adult person who is caught up in a narcissistic injury may in fact talk or rant, but that’s not the feeling state.  I repeat: the feeling state is that any coherent sense of one’s self will have completely vanished.  It’s just that one can have tantrums in which he can now throw loud words about, and also flail around uncontrollably, and even harm people.  Also, as I said before: this is impossible for someone who is a stranger to such mental states to imagine; but believe me, it happens.

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HERE’S A RIDDLE FOR YOUR ENJOYMENT.  IF YOU’RE LESS THAN 12 YEARS OLD YOU’LL   BE ABLE TO FIGURE IT OUT EASILY.  IF YOU’RE 30 OR OLDER, IT MAY WELL STUMP  YOU:

A COWBOY RIDES INTO TOWN AT NOON ON FRIDAY.

TWO DAYS LATER, HE RIDES OUT OF TOWN, AT EXACTLY NOON, ON FRIDAY.

HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?

     – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – <> – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

More later, along with the answer to the riddle.

Fun Stuff #2

THE BROKEN CLOCK PUZZLE

Michael is a handy guy who makes things.  He makes ukuleles, tooling, jigs, furnishings, displays, takes photos, and so on.  While he is active in many kinds of such projects, the people who use them generally agree that Michael’s stuff is much better than it looks or functions, despite how overpriced it all is.

Michael recently made a wall clock out of scraps, cutoffs, and leftovers of various materials.  It worked fine . . . until a particularly volatile series of anti-government rants by Bob knocked it off the wall.  The clock hit the floor, just missing Denyse and Carol-#1-the-taller, and broke into three pieces.  They, being used to Bob’s rants, continued chatting.

  Sarah A. jumped out of her seat in fright, fearing a ninja assassination attempt in progress.   Sara S. emitted a shriek so high-pitched that only the dogs could hear it; every cup and glass in the room shattered.   Carol-#2-the-shorter, in an unexpected manifestation of fight-or-flight syndrome, was reduced to the only-recently-discovered third reaction: helpless giggles and hiccups.  Jamie clung to both her doggie and Liz with an alacrity heretofore unseen, leaving indentations in them that would last the rest of the day.  Ervin was . . . well, it was hard to tell.  He might have had a hangover or was experiencing flashbacks.  You never know, with him.

Just as Michael and Trini were about to clean the mess up, Barbara walked in.

She took one look at the broken clock and — in a breathless utterance delivered with Laurence-Olivier-like composure and accompanying British accent said: “OH MY GOD, MICHAEL.  LOOK!   THE CLOCK BROKE INTO THREE PIECES IN SUCH A WAY THAT THE NUMBERS ON EACH CHUNK ADD UP TO THE SAME TOTAL!” 

 HOW DID THE CLOCK BREAK?  WHAT NUMBERS FROM ONE TO TWELVE DID EACH PIECE CONTAIN?

 16. A LETTER TO WELLS FARGO BANK [June, ’18]

This was written in June of 2018

I don’t know if I’m just getting grumpy in my old age, or if I just am tired of all the lies that I soak and marinate in every day via all the media. Oh, you know: 

I’m your friend; I’m here to help you. You just have to . . . 
    buy me; 
      eat me; 
         drink me; 
           smoke me; 
             admire me;
               be happy with me;
                 have faith in me; 
                   be beautiful with/for me; 
                     fuck me; 
                      own me; 
                        trust me;
                         use me;
                          wear me; 
                           be loyal to me; 
                             send me a check;
                               have a nicer car; 
                                vote for me;
                                 keep up with me;
                                   be more with it; 
                                   etc. etc. etc.
                                    etc. etc.
                                    etc.
                                    etc.
                                    etc.
                                    etc.
                                    etc.
                                    etc.

Anyway, I went to my bank two weeks ago, to make a bank wire transfer.  As it happened, I was directed to a newbie bank officer with whom to do the necessary paperwork.  Being a newbie, he was accompanied by a (female) supervisor who helped him through the various steps.  I’d never met either of them before, and between the three of us we did this task in about 20 minutes.  The next day I got a follow-up email telling me the status of the wire transfer.  The email said:

“Good Afternoon Ervin,

I just wanted to follow up with you in regards to the wire we processed yesterday at the banking center. As we discussed it will be going out Monday due to it being late in the afternoon. And I wanted also to thank you for your continued business with us.  Your relationship is important to me and I appreciated having the opportunity to assist you. My goal is to help you succeed financially and to provide you with an exceptional level of service, while ensuring your service requests are met. 

If you have questions, or would like assistance or information please call me using the information below.  

Thank you. We appreciate your business.

(The guy’s name appeared here, without a “yours”, “sincerely”, or other sign-off word or phrase)

I sent him the following response:

Hi, Mr. ________;

Thank you for getting back to me, and I appreciate your help in the matter of the international wire transfer.

 You emailed me the standard politenesses about appreciating my business and eagerness to assist me. It’s nice of you to say things like that; but if you’ll forgive me, that is not my experience of Wells Fargo bank. I’ll tell you up front that this is not your fault; it’s just that banking at Wells Fargo is unpleasant for me. 

 Over the years I have seen Wells Far-to-go turn from a reasonably friendly bank full of people whom I’d see every time I went there into a building that is perpetually full of strangers.  I’ve seen tellers, officials, loan officers, managers, personal bankers, credit card staffers, portfolio advisors, etc. come and go countless times. The parking lot attendants have longer tenure.  There’s only one person left that I recognize from long ago: ______; and she’ll be retiring soon.   _____ has been around for a while, and so has that very nice ______ (?) fellow whom I sometimes bring a coffee for.  But everyone else is a stranger to me.  

I met you and Ms. _____ for the first time only last week, over the matter of the bank wire transfer.  You greeted me when I walked through the door.  In the past three months I’ve been greeted at the door by three other people whom I’d never seen before and have not seen again.  As things are going, both you and Ms. _____ will both soon leave and I’ll never see either of you again.  The very nice connection I made with her will disappear forever.  Wells Fargo is not really there to help me, I’m afraid.  If it were, there would be familiar faces for me to feel comfortable with, and to have built up some familiarity with and create some sense of community.  Frankly, I have a more personal relationship with my grocery store checkout person, whom I at least see most times I go there.  But this is not your fault. 

A bit of history: I’ve banked at that branch of Wells Fargo since before you were born.  As I said, you and met for the first time only last week.  I am twice your age and I come from a different generation and culture than you do.  It would be polite for someone in your position to address me as Mr. Somogyi.  You have, as far as I’m concerned, no license to do differently.  

It’s a bit awkward to point this out but, while it is common in this culture to casually call people by their first names, ours is a professional/commercial relationship in which we are not friends or equals.  You don’t know me; I don’t know you; and you are paid to deal with me.  As a matter of fact, Wells Fargo makes the money with which it pays you directly off my patronage, and that of others like me.  I’m fairly responsible about things like how people address one another; I was brought up to call my elders Mr. or Mrs., or even Ms.  You may not have noticed that I am at least three times your age.

Please forgive me for this longish letter; you’ve done almost nothing to deserve it.  You are not responsible for the bulk of my frustrations.  I’m sure you have your own troubles.  But you should have some idea about manners.

Years ago my bank branch was full of visible and audible activity.  Now, when I walk in it’s almost deserted.  There are two (or occasionally three) tellers at ten teller’s windows.  The other seven or eight windows look like cemeteries waiting for a visitor.  That’s probably because everyone is doing electronic banking.  But I’m old-fashioned and I go to the bank.  And these days that feels sort of like sitting next to the girl no one wants to dance with; the effect on me is somewhere between disconcerting and creepy.

Mostly, however, it’s not that the bank is inefficient or thoughtless or greedy; your employer is a criminal.  You work for a criminal organization.  Wells Far-to-go claims to be benevolent and civically responsible, but it famously opened MILLIONS of unauthorized accounts for its customers without their knowing about it.  It didn’t really have to do that, you know; but it did because it could.  It refunded the money, of course (or claimed it did); but it did so unwillingly and under threat once the secret was out.

My honest opinion is that Wells Fargo’s board of vastly overpaid directors should rot in a Nicaraguan prison.  A few people did lose their jobs over that act of out-and-out piracy, but not much more than that happened.  Wells Far-to-go participated in the financial debacle of circa 2008; it also has financed and continues to finance all kinds of corporate projects that devastate the environment and is PRIMARILY focused on making money for its already moneyed customers. Its mortgage track record ranges from unsatisfactory to horrible; I know that from experience and from others who have spoken with me.  I also have a friend who is a financial attorney, who has spoken with me about having had way too much experience with how utterly shabby, shady, and corrupt Wells Far-to-go’s behaviors and policies on the whole have been.  

I’m embarrassed to be one of Wells Fargo’s customers.  Not that most of the other big banks are any different.  But I don’t know of any more benign bank to put my money into. 

You are a youngish man trying to make his way through life and who has found a career with this institution.  And you are simply doing your job. I mean you no ill or disrespect whatsoever.  As far as I know, you are not dishonest and you are not in a position to engage in malfeasance.  You should, though, observe the niceties of acknowledging your elders with some politeness; and in your job most of the elders you meet are not your friends; you’re engaging in monetary transactions.  I’ve met people at that bank over the years that I’ve honestly liked.  However, I’m unable to like Wells Fargo itself. 

Once, a long time ago, the bank had mounted a promotional campaign that advertised business loans to small and struggling community businesses. Being young, and starting a struggling small business, I applied for such a loan.  The bank official I spoke with seemed to be kindly disposed toward the young and naive young person I was at the time, and told me straight out that despite what they say in their advertising the bank has little to no interest in that kind of activity, and wouldn’t loan me anything.  Those weren’t his precise words but that was EXACTLY what he said to me.  Ditto with my mortgage some years later: Wells Far-to-go said yes almost right off the bat, of course; and then it said no.  In the world of sales, this is called bait-and-switch.

Today, a bank wire transfer should go through to any place in the world in microseconds.  I’d give the paperwork, etc., 24 hours, max.  As it is, I was told that it may take five to ten business days . . . during which, in addition to the fee that I was charged, Wells Fargo gets to use my money gratis for that length of time.  As far as service goes, whom exactly is that a service to?  Well, it is business as usual, is it not?

I may or may not see you next time I go to the bank.  If I do, I’ll offer to bring you a cup of coffee.  Ditto Ms. ________.  Nothing of what I’ve been writing is your or her fault . . . although, as I intimated above, I’ve been subject to the bank’s various business practices for as long as you’ve been on this planet (and I think Ms. ________’s lifetime too).  Finally, Wells Fargo has made money off me every month and every year of that time.  Coffee-wise, I usually go to the place up the block; they have decent coffee.

Respectfully (toward you, not the bank), Ervin Somogyi

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