a flagrant bit of escapism

So:

  • Socialism maximizes equality of opportunity — but at the expense of incentives to succeed.
  • A capitalist economy without government is a barter economy.
  • Given that government is necessary for capitalism (due to failures of the market economy) the question becomes –> which form is best?
    • –> Capitalism does not imply democracy — nor does democracy imply capitalism.
    • –> Types of government:
      • Democratic*
      • Authoritarian*
      • Totalitarian
      • Fascist
      • Communist
      • Republic*
  • Capitalism creates wealth.
  • Capitalism does not create equality.

Democracy

  1. “The pathetic belief in the collective wisdom of individual ignorance.” – H.L. Mencken
  2. “The worst form of government, except for every other.” – Winston Churchill

Government exists to protect, defend and support the capitalist economy. The capitalist economy / free market–not the government–lifts individuals from poverty. The free market–not the government–produces and provides. The end goal of capitalism is wealth — which I define as a proxy for social welfare.

The properly and only role of government is the regulation of market failures. These include

  • externalities – both positive and negative – and implies taxing some activities and subsidizing others, as well as providing public goods.
  • imperfect information / asymmetric information
  • adverse selection
  • moral hazard
  • monopoly (though this last has not been unequivocally observed in the last century — suggesting that monopoly is merely a particular manifestation of imperfect information)

Any and every government policy (and/or program) must be justified by one of the above.

Paradoxically, this narrow definition of the proper role of government is hugely liberating and empowering.

Questions of “right” and “wrong” are inherently intractable — and therefore useless, aside from their merit as parlor discussion topics or other forms of entertainment (though, really, who has a “parlor” anymore?).

The question of “should gay marriage be allowed” — which can not be universally or satisfactorily answered — becomes “is there a market failure justification for government regulation of marriages between couples of the same sex?”

Though this question is no easier — rather, far more difficult — to answer at a glance, it can be answered (or worked toward) in a scientific and quantitative fashion.

Health care, similarly, can be logically addressed. The question is not “should government be involved in health care” — for which the answer is clearly yes — but rather “to what extent is government intervention in health care justified?”

Nothing could be more useful toward the end of achieving meaningful and effective reform than to rephrase the debate in these terms. Ultiamtely, this is the question — but the debate has centered on questions of “fairness” and depended on anecdotal evidence.

A second question must be identified — and its answer clearly stated as an assumption underlying any intellectual or rational debate involving forms of economic organization, governments, etc. The question is:

Are people inherently

  • autonomous, independent, rational, capable, and masters/creators of their own individual tastes, preferences and (ultimately) destinies?
    –or–
  • weak, impressionable, subject to the whims and caprice of governments, corporations, media, mass culture?

If the latter, government is necessary (and appropriate) to protect people form themselves. This viewpoint presupposed that people, inherently, need protection — and further that government can provide that protection. This further supposes that it is possible for the government to know “what’s good for people” better than the people themselves.

Do people need protection by the government, or is the government best that governs least?

And, perhaps, the truth is somewhere in between. For myself, my friends, and my family, the answer is clearly that we are masters of our own destinies (for better or for worse) — rational decision makers who know our own self-interest better than any governing policy or body.

But the people I encounter on a daily basis — and by whom I judge and calibrate my idea of the “ordinary person” — are, perhaps, less than a representative sample. They all have college degrees, are all willing and cognizant participants in the free market economy.

We sell our ability to think, and buy the product of others! We think critically about the advertisements we encounter, the ideas that are shared with us, and can accurately predict and understand the consequences of our actions.

But are all of these things true of the other 80% of the American population (yes, I know 20% of the American population … don’t quibble!) who do have not not completed advanced education — of that proletariat mass who have only their physical labor to sell?

Perhaps, then, my question is not a valid question. Of course it’s not — any question that asks “are people A or are people B” is tautological and false.

Can the answer be that some people are weak (impressionable, if you prefer) and some people are strong (rational masters of their own destinies, that is)?

( ** And, yes, I too find my use of the terms “weak” and “strong” bothering.)

If so, we must ask an entirely new question — what is the best form of economic organization, given that some people are weak and some people are strong? What is the best form of government, given that some are weak and others are strong?

Is is the government that best defends the weak? Or is it the government that best enables the strong?

Which begs another question — given that there are weak and strong, do the strong inherently or naturally prey upon the weak?

I would answer a screaming “no” — but as a student of history, when have the strong not preyed upon the weak? Perhaps with the advent of modern governments — democracy, socialism, communism.

Buy, Ayn Rand asks, should the weak be allowed to prey upon the strong?

This is communism: all are equal because none are great.

So here is the tension that must be resolved (once and for all!) — the strong preying upon the weak, as in the state of nature or the unfettered capitalist economy — against the weak preying upon the strong, as in the communist economy (where none are permitted to be great), or the socialist economy, where the potentially great must carry the burden of all those who are not given to rise.

This is John’s Gultch: an idealized world where the strong are unfettered, and the weak are not preyed upon. Only — in John’s Gultch — the weak are simply not permitted — are left to their own devices — to anarchy and ruin.

So is Rand’s point that the weak owe the strong a debt — for protecting their world from anarchy and darkness?

Here we’ve come full circle.

Either

  1. people are strong or people are weak
    –or–
  2. some are strong and some are weak

Conclusion number one I’ve rejected as a false.

But conclusion number two implies a tension between classes, implies class struggle, implies Marxism, implies intractable struggle between “those who have, and those who ain’t got” (with apologies to the Dead Prez).

But it’s not a struggle between those who possess or lack material wealth — it’s a struggle between those who have or lack the spark of a creator — between those who make their own destinies and those who are helpless against the tide.

How can we have a world of equality and justice when people are inherently unequal?

Justice is always defined according to whom. Justice is not treating all people the same — if that same treatment favors one class or another.

Given inequality as immutable fact, how can one ever arrive at equality? Given that A does not equal B, what series of filters or functions could ever make A equal B?

Given inequality, equality is unattainable.

Given that equality is unattainable, do we uphold it as a value? Do we strive toward it?

“From each according to his ability — to each according to his need.”

Does this describe America? Does this explain our social welfare programs? When one reaches the threshold of need, the government provides. Is there an economic justification for sparing people from poverty? There is clear justification for providing unemployment insurance .. and the same seems true of many social programs (think: free / reduced lunch).

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On time and under budget

At 7:00 am this morning, the clinic’s billing department will begin work in a new office. I’m excited and proud–from lease revisions to issuing key cards, the new office space has been (more or less) my project. I’m excited about the end product–and I’m thrilled to be on-schedule and under my projected budget.

I should have been a builder. I love tangible things–parts, materials, tools, process, product.

I suppose, in a way, that makes me a materialist. If so, that’s a badge I’ll wear with pride. But I don’t think it’s so much the things themselves that I love. It’s not the car itself that inspires a sense of admiration. It’s not a sense of ownership of homeliness underlying my love of buildings. Rather, I love these as physical manifestations of the human mind, of an indomitable spirit, of enterprise (not mere entrepreneurship), of the audacity to take grasp of the material world and reshape and repurpose it according to one’s own vision. The act of creating something out of nothing–of fashioning precision and function from the coarsest raw materials–with only human ingenuity as catalyst and cement.

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Second thoughts about my Droid

If switching from anything other than an iPhone, I don’t doubt that I would love my Droid: it’s stylish, fast and full-featured.

But given a choice between a great brilliant device (iPhone) on a dodgy network (*ahem*) and a solid device (Droid) on pretty good network (Verizon), I’m a little torn.

Here’s why: Second thoughts about my Droid

Missing Functionality

  1. No multi-touch (pinch/pull to zoom)
    Simply put: navigating maps and the internet is significantly faster with multi-touch than without.
  2. Limited app selection
    No Yelp? No Urbanspoon? I have to pay for Midomi? No Shazzam? I’m sure this will get better as the device catches on, but right now most of my favorite apps aren’t available for Droid.
  3. No (built-in) Visual Voicemail
    Verizon offers its 3rd party Visual VM for $2.99 / month, but not seemless and slick like Apple’s integrated solution. The audio quality is poor. I have to go into options turn on the speakerphone (more annoying that it sounds). I can’t add contacts from the VM screen. Etc.
  4. No notifications on the “lock” screen
    I shouldn’t have to unlock my phone to see who called or the contents of a text message.
  5. No silent mode switch
    Switching to silent mode on my Droid makes the phone truly “silent”. And it’s easy to do accidentally.
  6. No Flash or QuickTime support
    For all of Droid’s marketing about what the iPhone doesn’t do, it’s a little ironic that Droid doesn’t have Flash support. (Flash support being, perhaps, the single biggest feature the iPhone lacks (well, that and a decent network)). Adobe indicates that Flash support for the Droid will be available in the first quarter of 2010.

General Disappointments

  1. Interface
    Not as intuitive as the iPhone … though probably just as functional. I have to figure out how to do things on the Droid. I knew how to use the iPhone before I ever picked it up. It’s just that intuitive.
  2. Coverage
    Coverage and call quality is definitely better than AT&T … but still not that great.
  3. Microphone quality
    Even when I have a good connection, my transmitted voice sounds muted and indistinct. It’s hard for the called party to understand what I’m saying.
  4. The Keyboard
    The physical keyboard is nice–but the reach across the navigation pad is awkward, and I’m not much faster with the physical keyboard than the iPhone on-screen keyboard. Of course, it makes a difference that I seldom text or send e-mail from my phone. I thought this was because of the keyboard–but I’m realizing that it’s simply an aesthetic preference. Written communication via a 4″ wide device just isn’t all that fun.
  5. Color and Polish
    The iPhone is colorful and polished. Droid feels drab–and has hard edges–physically, and figuratively.

Annoyances

  1. Random sounds
    I still haven’t figured out what all the random sounds it makes mean.
  2. Volume
    I still haven’t found a comfortable earpiece volume. It’s either slightly too loud for comfort, or slightly to quiet to hear well.

Things I like about the Droid (versus the iPhone)

  1. Free, built-in turn-by-turn navigation.
    Google’s free, turn by turn navigation works well. I find it more fun more than functional though–I still find it easier to navigate for myself, using Apple’s multi-touch maps interface.

Now, sure sure, I’m sure there are fixes, work-arounds, apps or replacements for all of the above complaints–but that’s the point: I have no desire (see: time) to have to “learn” my phone, to have to “tweak” and “customize” my phone. I just want it to work. And the iPhone does that. Out of the box.

Overall, I think the Droid is a competent and well-designed device–but using it makes me miss my iPhone.

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it took me two tries to remember the password for my own blog

Huh. Long time no blog.

Strange–I was ——— (nicely, of course) for my ——– —- –apparently, ——- — — —– —- —– — ——– —-.

I’m not sure if it’s more strange or flattering to be “found” on the internet. It’s still not something I’m much accustomed to.

In any case. It’s been a few weeks. I’ve been busy. But more–I’ve been in a foul mood. Didn’t realize it until today–but I guess I have. Chris once observed that my mood seems proportional to the mechanical condition of my vehicles. I’m not sure if it was true before–or if it’s merely self-fulfilling by virtue of having once been suggested.

Here’s a thought, as I sit here watching Florence + the Machine videos on YouTube (wishing for a USA tour…): I don’t know that musicians / actors / whoever else are really any more attractive than your average … Jane Doe. Or, that is, inherently attractive. Inevitably, as a female musician gains popularity, she simultaneously becomes something of a sex symbol. A few avoid it–by dressing in a purposefully modest fashion on stage, on album covers, etc. But by-and-large, I think most female actors and musicians also become sex symbols as they gain renown.

I begin to suspect that this has more to do with confidence than innate attractiveness. I think, as much as it’s the female figure, form, motions–it’s the ability to stand in front of a crowd, in front of an audience, with absolute confidence–that’s overwhelmingly attractive.

To say “confidence is sexy” is close–it identifies a correlation. But I suspect there’s causation behind it. I would say sexy follows confidence. Is Bono really that attractive of a guy? Yeah–but no more than the next guy. But when he steps on stage (in front of 80,000 adoring fans)–he’s the embodiment of sex appeal.

It makes sense. You don’t have to be Richard Dawkins to figure out that you want the alpha-male (is there such a think as the alpha-female?) as your mate.

So, perhaps, you can skip the intermediary step. Perhaps confidence, simply, is sexy.

Confidence can be faked. But I suspect that faking confidence is the only way to become confident. You fake it at first. I suspect everyone does. But after you fake it a few times, you don’t have to fake it anymore…

Oh, dear reader, I seem to have found myself on a bit of a tangent. I guess the point is this: I’ve convinced myself that, if I ever want to by “sexy” (which would be nice, of course, but it’s not something high on the priority list), I just need to push myself and fake confidence. The first few times, I probably wouldn’t even succeed. But after faking it a few times, I suspect I would actually start to develop some bona-fide, gonads-verified confidence.

Of course, it would help to make the obligatory stop by “The Buckle” (or whatever the trendy clothier-du-jour is) and pick up some faded blue-jeans, pointy leather shoes, and a few collared shirts.

I guess it’s just nice to know (or think, anyway) that it’s out there. Maybe, it’s just self-delusion to think that being “sexy” is a choice–rather than something you’re born with. Maybe, some day I’ll find out.

In the mean time, I’m in a pleasant mood. Ken Burns awaits.

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My day so far:

1) Breakfast w/ J & J. Coffee, orange juice, eggs, hashbrowns, etc.
2) Walk to AJ’s with J, J, T, M, M & N for second breakfast. Coffee, upside down cake, three-cup Pepsi Challenge (that one study Gladwell cites is right–none of the three of us were able to correctly identify all three cups!).
3) Talk to Chris.
4) Drive Tory’s race car. 425 horsepower. Four-point racing harness. Chrome exhaust pipes bolted on either side. Man, what a ride!
5) Sell my motorcycle for asking price in 10 minutes flat.
6) Go to shooting range (“The Scottsdale Gun Club”) with Tory. We go through 4 cases of 9mm rounds in ~30 minutes. I just saw every gun you can buy in Counter-Strike–and so many more!
7) Day dream about my soon-to-be WRX (I hope!).
8) Arrive at office. Inspect demolition of x-ray room. Neato! I should have been a builder.
9) Reprogram a rouge thermostat (you really have to get EVERY ONE, or you have one hero that tries to cool the entire 13,300 square foot facility).
10) Intentionally set off burglar alarm.
11) Wait to see if anyone notices…

Edit: Someone noticed.

12) Get pulled out of building at gun point. Like six-guns-and-an-assault-rifle gun point. Handcuffs, etc.

I notified the security company that it was a test–but apparently I forgot to notify everyone passing by.

This is good, though. My goal was to test the security of the building–and my test indicates that the building is, in fact, very secure!

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Rockin’ in the Wind Rivers

Little known fact about me: I play a mean air guitar.

My burgeoning talent generally goes unrecognized–I only play for the most choosiest of audiences.

On Thursday, the spirit came upon me. And I played–like a man possessed.

Played with an outpouring of passion, like an avalanche running down a mountain–like an outburst flood, the crashing, pouring, scouring and lifting of a billion pounds of frigid water–an alpine lake descending at 100 mph, it’s rocky levies having given way.

I played Destroyer. I played Blitzen Trapper. I played Deer Tick. I played The Tallest Man on Earth. My chords gave voice to the music, the life, the rich vitality that courses through the veins of every man (and woman!) who stands atop 11,000 feet of bedrock and plays to an audience of precipitous stony escarpments–and sun, and snow, and pikas, damn little else.

Cast myself towards infinity.
Trust me, I had my reasons. …
Blessed doctor, do your worst.
Cut me open, remove this thirst. …
“All good things must come to an end.
The bad ones just go on forever.”
Isn’t that what I just said?
It is Now and it is Never.

It’s not the lyrics that are important–it’s the audience. This audience:

From 2009.07.31 Wind River Pictures

Which is to say, I spent five days in the Winds with my parents, brother, and Chester (my Dad’s English Setter). Fantastic time. Sun, snow, alpine lakes and flowers. View the full album:

2009.07.31 Wind River Pictures
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“Please report all suspicious activity.” Should I tell them about my calendar?

Hrm. I love traveling. Airports are like the twilight zone. There’s a disconnect between the world outside the airport and the world inside. Really, airports are magical. You go inside the airport in one place, you put your self in the trust of strangers and engineers and all the best of American industry, and when you walk out of the airport, you’re in a completely different place. Sometimes, when you’re flying across time zones, it’s nearly the same time when you walk out of the airport as when you walked in. It’s like a magical building of portals–you walk in one side, through a specific gate leading to a specific place, and bam, you’re there.

And airports are timeless. Sure, sure–there are clocks on the wall. But time inside the airport is disconnect from time outside. Because airplanes play tricks with time. Time inside an airport is only pertinent with respect to your departure time. Once inside the airport, it wouldn’t matter if time was measure in minutes or flippids, in 60 second denominations or 100 second denominations. It’s all quite relative. People eat dinner at 9:00 am. They’ve been up all night. People fall asleep at all hours of the day. The bars never close. It’s really a timeless place.

So I’m eating a slice and drinking a beer. It’s 10:00 — in the morning, but it could be 10:00 at night, and it’d be just the same.

On another note–you know what I’ve never understood? People who use napkins to dab the grease off of their pizza. Just doesn’t make one lick of sense to me.

Hrm.

That was weird. I just added something to my Google Calendar, and a context message appeared, and it was this narrative, something about palpable air … and then it was gone. I read the first words of these paragraphs … and then it disappeared. I have no idea where it came from, or where it went. A glitch? I searched the source code, but found nothing…

There’s a ghost in my Google Calendar. That’s OK. It just goes along with the random events that pop up on my calendar. For example, at 11:00 am on August 11th, I’m supposed to “Get Dominated.” At 11:00 am on September 30th, I’m supposed to “Visit Aunt Sally and get some peaches.” Where do these come from? Who is my Aunt Sally? What’s so special about her peaches? More worrying, do I get drunk sometimes and add random events to my calendar?

Hrm.

Mountains. That’ll be nice. It’s been a while. I nearly forgot to pack anything warm. I was doing my last sweep, when I found all my warm stuff. Glad I found it. Haven’t seen it in weeks. Might be cold in the mountains. Who knows.

Did I pack my gaiters? Did I pack my hiking pants? Is that even how you spell gaiters? Who knows. I’ll find out when I unpack in Cheyenne.

Hrm.

That one sales rep seems to think I should write a white paper on the clinic’s EMR search. Maybe he’s right. Instead, I’m writing nonsense and drinking a beer. This is a productive use of my time. Seriously. No, really. Really.

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“Andrew Jackson” Jihad

I put on Andrew Jackson Jihad’s “Can’t Maintain” for the drive to work this morning. And it’s been love at first listen.


Mr. Jackson is a lot of The Mountain Goats–lo-fi, fast guitar, always played slightly out of tune–singing a thousand thousand stories of inner fears and minor incidents–a little of The Extraordinaires–playing upbeat, romping rollicks–and an acerbic dash of Modest Mouse’s lyrical style. Wikipedia notes that “Andrew Jackson Jihad has obtained much coverage for their songs about “serial killers, cigarettes, child abuse, and a vengeful Jesus”

Check him out. And check out his tour schedule. He plays in Denver tonight.

“I don’t have a drinking problem / But I have a drinking solution / I don’t think I ever learned to to think.”

Visit his website: http://andrewjacksonjihad.com
Or, on MySpace.com: http://www.myspace.com/andrewjacksonjihad

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The Tallest Man On Earth

The Tallest Man On Earth is actually not so tall. In fact, at five foot six or so, he’s rather unpreposessing. But just wait until you hear him sing.

If you haven’t listened to The Tallest Man On Earth, you owe it to yourself to find Shallow Graves and give it a listen. It’s one of the best albums of last year, bar none.

As a songwriter, he possesses all of the burgeoning talent of Bob Dylan. But … unlike Dylan, this guy can sing. What a voice. What a voice.

I’ve just returned from seeing him perform. And, my … what a show. John Vanderslice played after, but didn’t play half the show. Check this guy out. Now. Thank me later.

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Volunteering: It Doesn’t Pay!

I suppose one needs to find the correct balance between work and … everything else.

At the moment 60 hours a week seems about right. And, you’d better believe I’m getting paid for every hour I work.

And that makes all the difference in the world.

I ran the student government-operated movie theater at MSU a couple years back. It was a lot of fun–but it paid a fixed (and miserly) stipend. And I did a damn fine job of it.

By the end of my year as director, I more doubled the theater’s revenue, relative to previous years. (The two years prior, the theater made $6000 and $4000, respectively. During my year, the theater made just shy of $12,000.) At the same time, I CUT operating expenses–in both relative and absolute terms. Despite tripling the number of weekly expenses, my operating expenses for the year came in ~$6,000 (20%) under budget.

Toward the end, though, my motivation flagged. After the first 600 hours, I would have earned my total stipend twice over at a dead-end $7/hour job. By the end of the year, my average hourly wage worked out out to something like $2.60 an hour.

And I burned out, hard. My love and excitement fueling the passionate intensity with which I took to the job gradually faded into an oblique sense of begrudging obligation. Which is a miserable thing to feel. My grades faltered. My mood soured. My motivation to do ANYTHING reached an all-time low.

Did I burn out because I worked too hard? Did I burn out after too many late and sleepless nights? Did I just run out of energy? I thought so, at the time.

But now I reject that conclusion. I didn’t burn out because I “worked too hard.” I didn’t overwork myself, and I didn’t “run out of energy.” I reject the idea that my energy is finite–that my productive capacity is limited.

I “burned out” because I gave too much–and received nothing in return.

Simply put, I received no reward for the work I did–aside from some measure of personal satisfaction and acknowledgment from my student government peers.

Maybe, for some people, that might be enough. But try buying a nice meal out with your sense of personal satisfaction. Try paying the bills with acknowledgment from your peers. Frankly, I earned some nice meals out. And I earned relief from the anxiety of making rent. But I didn’t get these things.

Economists are fond of saying that “incentives matter.” I realize, now, this applies to me, too. I’ve discovered that incentives matter–not just with respect to economic performance–but on a personal (maybe even psychological) level as well. Incentives matter–in terms of performance which, perhaps, is more closely linked to personal happiness than Alfred Marshall ever dared suggest.

Never again will I give my time away. Never again will I create value, and get nothing in return. If ever I give again–it will be only for the simple joy of giving. And I’ll only give if I receive joy in equal measure to the expense–be that my time, or my money.

There’s a shirt on Busted Tees that says “Volunteering: It Doesn’t Pay.” And that’s more true than I’ve realized. Volunteering drains you–and gives precious little in return.

(As a side note–the “joy of giving” requires some modicum “bounty”–that is, having more than you need. To volunteer, I need to have extra time–spare time. To enjoy giving gifts, I need to have extra money. I need to have enough money to cover my needs–and enough to buy gifts for myself, if I so choose. I’ve missed birthdays and holidays over the last six months–and unapologetically so. I’ve been borrowing against my future to pay rent and buy groceries. It’s hard to feel much joy in giving, not having money to spend on myself. Fortunately, that’s changing now.)

In short, I’m working 60 hours a week–and I’m thrilled. I’m in the thrall of being able to put my skills to productive use. I’m learning at an incredible pace–I can almost feel myself building human capital. I love it. And I’ll bet my bottom dollar that I never burn out again.

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