The Cult

My laptop's hinge came undone (again), so two days ago I bought a MacBook Pro. Most people seem to love theirs; I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

My first impression upon walking into the Apple store was of how many salespeople there were. There seemed to be a mildly festive air there, at least compared to most retail stores.

I was helped by a pleasant young man named Romar. I asked him a few questions, undoubtedly betraying my ignorance of Apple computers.  He actually started one of his answers by saying, "Well, since you're new to the ecosystem....."

Ecosystem? That's a somewhat pretentious -- if not entirely inaccurate -- word to describe Apple computers.  It's also an indication of the way the company -- and its employees -- think of themselves as a world apart. (As in, sniff, we don't sell cars, we sell Rolls Royces.)

When I bought the MacBook, I made a point of using Romar, since he was the one who helped me initially.  But it was apparent that they weren't on a commission system; that would evidently have detracted from their communal spirit.

I'm certainly not the first to point out the cult-like nature of the company, but it was the first time I'd experienced it firsthand. It does seem at times as if Apple is roughly halfway from Dell to Scientology.

Apple stock has always attracted its share of near-religious devotion from adherents who seem to just want to own a piece of the magic. And people line up early in the morning for the launch of a new product like the iPad the way the Star Wars geeks used to camp out to get tickets to the opening of a new episode.

Certainly the company had its own cult of personality, as all proper cults should. In retrospect it's almost surprising that unlike, say, Kim Jong Il, Steve Jobs didn't just appoint one of his own children as his successor.

Walter Isaacson's recent book makes Jobs sound like a sociopath. Evidently Saint Steve never invented a thing himself, he just cracked the whip until others did for him. He was extraordinarily harsh with those around him; as a result, a lot of his employees, at least the ones who had extended contact with him, disliked him intensely.

But that seems only appropriate as well. What kid of self-respecting cult would worship a well-adjusted nice guy?

Nice guys, average guys, and sociopaths XIII

Situation: A 22-year-old guy cuts an accidental, audible fart while on a date with a new girl. How does he react?

Nice guy: Turns beet red, figures he's entirely ruined his chances with the girl, and will never live this down. Apologizes profusely. For several minutes he is so mortified he has a hard time making conversation.

Average guy: Mumbles, "Oh Jesus, that was embarrassing. Sorry." Feels awkward for the next minute or so.

Sociopath: Says, "Whoops" in an almost exaggerated tone to disguise fact that he doesn't feel embarrassment. Knowing how annoyed he is when others fart, he winks and says, "That wasn't the slickest move I've ever pulled." Ten seconds later he's forgotten about it.

Situation: Same one; what is the woman's initial reaction? 

Nice girl: Pretends she didn't hear.

Average girl: Pretends she didn't hear, but moves away slightly.

Sociopath: Grimaces and rolls her eyes, as if this is the very last straw. Opens her mouth as if about to say something, but then ostentatiously shakes her head and says nothing, as a demonstration of her superhuman patience.

Situation: Two guys are talking; one of them mournfully says, "Girls never give me a second look." How does the other one respond?

Nice guy: "You're better-looking than me. I'm sure girls notice you, you just don't realize it." It occurs to him to tell his friend that Mandy said he was cute the other day, but he refrains, realizing that Mandy might not want this passed along.

Average guy: "You're not that bad-looking. You just need to lose a little weight, that's all." Thinks to himself, he'll never do it.

Sociopath: (with annoyance in his voice) "That's cause you're so fucking fat." Sees the the other guy's expression, and backtracks with, "You oughta to hit the gym, lose some weight. You gotta show a little discipline though. No more thirds on the chocolate cake." Feels gratified that he was able to work these digs in under the guise of concern.

Situation: Three guys are walking down a country road when a 450 pound black bear emerges from the woods to cross the road about thirty yards in front of them. When it reaches the middle of the road, it turns to give them a look, then, after a few seconds, ambles on.

Nice guy: His heart starts pounding wildly; he is terrified that all three of them could be mauled. Is slightly relieved not to see any cubs nearby. Knows he is supposed to yell in order to scare the bear away, but when he tries to, all that comes out is a strangled squeak.

Average guy: His heart skips a beat, and he feels a jolt of adrenalin. Thinks, shit, I wish I'd brought my pepper spray. It occurs to him that he has some measure of safety because he knows he can outrun his two friends. Yells at it loudly.

Sociopath: As the bear looks at them, he puts his finger to his mouth and says in a tone of exaggerated innocence, "Oh I didn't eat your porridge." Then he laughs at his own joke. Wishes he had his rifle with him because it would have been so gratifying to see its brains splattered all over. Later on his two buddies marvel at his nerves of steel. He makes fun of the nice guy's squeak, imitating it for them, as well as for many others later on. Finds this a source of never-ending mirth.

College websites

My daughter is in the process of applying to colleges. I've seen a few of the essay questions that she's had to respond to. They are often thinly disguised, self-congratulatory advertisements for the colleges themselves. For example:

"Bowdoin students and alumni often cite world class faculty and opportunities for intellectual engagement. The college's commitment to the Common Good, and the special quality of life on the coast of Maine as important aspects of the Bowdoin experience. Reflecting on your own interests and experiences, please comment on one of the following:
1. Intellectual engagement
2. The Common Good
3. Connection to place"

(Why is "Common Good" capitalized? Is it a proper name? Does that world class faculty not know how to spell? Or are they just Incredibly Pretentious?)

Many colleges require a supplemental essay explaining why you want to go there. (I suggested my daughter respond, "I'm only applying here because I needed a safety.")

One wonders how much pleasure the admissions officers take in reading those responses. Do they actually allow themselves to believe the applicants mean what they say?

Seeing the questions spurred me to look at various other college websites, and what I saw reinforced my feeling about higher education: it's all about brainwashing, rather than learning how to think clearly.

Many colleges feature a Latin motto stating something like "Honesty, curiosity, truth." (Why is English not good enough for academics?) A more accurate motto might be the Latin for, "Getting shit-faced every Friday and Saturday night." Nah -- that would actually show too much honesty and truthfulness.

Many colleges claim to foster "leadership." No college admits to producing "followers," although by definition any student who swallows the pretentious pap most colleges spew has to be a mindless acolyte.

And how exactly do most colleges teach charisma, that elusive quality needed for real leadership? (Silly me -- I always thought that was a quality that couldn't be taught, least of all by some scruffy charm-free prof.)

All of the colleges seem to value diversity. Not diversity of thought, of course -- just of ethnicity.

They all claim to seek students of high integrity. (I'd love to see what would happen to overall college enrollment if every student who had his parent help him with his essays were expelled.)

They all seem to advertise themselves as "highly selective." (I'll die happy if I see just one which bills itself as "not particularly selective.")

The Colby website -- which is fairly typical -- states that their school is "challenging and uplifting, enlightening and provocative, dynamic and focused." It evidently "fosters intellectual and personal growth, with graduates emerging as conscientious, committed leaders ready to make a profound impact on their world. A Colby education is distinctly inspired."

(Warning: do not go to a college website after just having eaten.)

I found myself a little confused by their last sentence: how can an education be inspired? An education is basically inanimate -- it can't be made to laugh, or brought to tears, any more than it can be inspired. Now a student might be inspired by a school, or by his courses, or by his professors. But his education simply cannot be thusly moved. And what exactly does it mean to be distinctly inspired, as opposed to, say, vaguely inspired? I don't get it. Then again, that's how academics write: unclearly, in ways that don't quite make sense.

Oh, and by the way -- the above paragraph hopes it amused you.

At Brown University, "the Brown community creates a dynamic living and learning environment on a picturesque urban campus in historic Providence, Rhode Island.....Visit us to find out why Brown students are said to be among the happiest in America."

Wow! Welcome to Eden! Who wouldn't want to go to a college where you're practically guaranteed happiness?!

But as wonderful as they all sounded, I couldn't help but feel a little dismayed that all these august institutions felt obliged to advertise themselves this way. It seemed just a trifle..... undignified.

I hoped that at least Harvard, of all places, wouldn't advertise itself the same way. After all, its very name is synonymous with prestige! They don't need to boast! But this is what they said on their admissions page:

"There has never been a more exciting time to be at Harvard. Founded in 1636, America's first college has been transformed in recent years by new initiatives that have greatly enhanced the undergraduate experience. Today's students come from all over the nation and the world to attend an extraordinary institution that combines many aspects of a small residential college with the resources of an unparalleled research university."

Oh well. 

Another common theme is that practically every college feels obliged to point out how its students come from all over the map. I thought, well, at least state schools must be immune from this. This is what the University of Maryland said:

"It's time to think outside the shell. March to your own drum. And grab hold of your destiny. It's time to discover the University of Maryland."

At first I was confused -- the second and third sentences are cliches, so why not say "think outside the box" and make it three for three? Then I got it -- think outside the shell -- the Maryland athletic teams are the Terrapins! The website's breathless tone sounds a bit more appropriate for an advertisement for a vacation getaway -- it's time you discovered the wonders of Chesapeake Bay! But at least they didn't feel obliged to point out that their students come from all over the world.

They did, however, feature the following photograph on their admissions page: 

  
Note the white girl, Chinese boy, and black boy all climbing together. This was another frequent feature of the college website photographs: many look as if they could have been used for a United Colors of Benetton ad.

It's a little unrealistic. When I was in college, there was a black table in the main dining hall at which white students never sat. I've been told that students still practice such self-segregation at virtually every college. Heck, even our own First Lady said that in her four years at Princeton she never made a single white friend. But to look at those college ads you'd think we're all just one big happy family.

Not one college has the honesty to show a photograph of its dining halls, with most of the black students sitting at one table and all of the whites sitting at others. How droll it would be to have such a photograph juxtaposed with some platitude about the value of diversity.

I thought there must be at least one college which doesn't advertise itself as a bastion of diversity. How about one of those historically black universities, where white students are too scared to go?

But the very first paragraph of North Carolina Central's admissions page reads, "North Carolina Central University is committed to equality of educational opportunity and does not discriminate against applicants, students, or employees based on race, color, national origin, religion, sex, age, or handicap. Moreover, NCCU is open to people of all races and actively seeks to promote racial integration by recruiting and enrolling a culturally and racially diverse student population."

Doth those gentlemen protest too loudly? Repeating something does not make it so.

Many of the pictures you see on the college websites are reminiscent of the photographs on the society page of the Sunday NY Times: an intimate group of people look as if they have just shared a particularly good joke, and are all simply delighted to be at that gathering, at which they're having the time of their lives.

I didn't see a picture of one student who looked bleary-eyed after an Adderall-fueled all-nighter. Not one who looked hungover. Not even one student who looked mildly depressed after perhaps having suffered romantic rejection. They just all looked blissful, as if being at their wonderful school were an unmitigated 24/7 delight.

We've all heard of Stepford Wives; I found myself wondering if there weren't such a thing as Stepford Students.

I also noticed that no college advertised itself as "a great place to spend four years getting drunk on your father's dime." So I checked out a few places with reputations as party schools, to see if there was any hint of that.

The University of California at San Diego features a picture of a big computer with the caption, "SDSC welcomes 'Gordon' computer as research powerhouse." But nothing about keggers or toga night or how you can skip class to spend the day at the beach.

The front page of the University of Alabama website features ways in which Alabama students "touch lives." But no mention of those great tailgate wingdings at the Georgia game.

The home page of the University of Indiana shows a revolving montage of photographs: the Indiana Chief Justice addressing winter commencement, the school's involvement with a supercollider, and their great faculty. Not a word about the legendarily luscious Bloomington coeds.

Disappointing. I guess there are no schools that are actually fun anymore.

Either that, or honesty in academia is dead.

Judging from these websites, I'd have to say the latter. (But I think we already knew that.)

Happy New Year!

Every year, for the first two weeks of January, my YMCA is packed. And the same thought always occurs:

New Year's resolutions are for those with no discipline the rest of the year.

Do sociopaths love their children?

This seems to get asked a lot on Google, and it's a good question.

Sociopaths usually stick up for their children, sometimes to a crazy extent (think Texas Cheerleader Mom). But mother crocodiles do likewise: they give rides to their young, put them in their mouths without swallowing them, and kill those who would prey on their young.

Yet it seems doubtful that crocodiles have quite the same tender feelings and sense of attachment that mammals do. I can't say for sure, but my guess is that reptiles, as protective as they can be, just don't seem to have the same depth of feeling.

Maybe sociopaths -- reptilian creatures that they are -- actually feel somewhat positively toward their young. They certainly know they are supposed to feel that way. But do they actually feel the same deep-seated warmth and affection that nonsociopaths do? I don't think so; they're simply not constructed that way.

Some sociopaths abuse and even kill their young. Diane Downs shot all three other children in the back seat of her car in 1983, killing one, and leaving one a paraplegic, and the third partially paralyzed in the face. When the Oregon police arrived, she blamed it on a bushy-haired stranger. But instead of being hysterical, she calmly asked the police was if the damage to the car's rear seat was irreparable.

Charlie Manson's mother, presumably as sociopathic as he, once tried to sell him for a pitcher of beer.

In 1995, Susan Smith drove her small children into a lake in South Carolina and let them drown so that they would no longer stymie her romance with a wealthy local man.

Most sociopaths, of course, do not murder their own children. But do they feel the same devotion, the same maternal or paternal protectiveness? Do they take the same playful delight in their company? It seems unlikely.

I've seen sociopaths who are proud of their children, who view them as little trophies. I've also noticed that the extent to which they want to be seen with their children depends on the child's attractiveness. But pride is an altogether different emotion than love.

So the answer to the question posed in the title of this post seems to be: not to the same extent, if at all.

This doesn't mean, however, that they are not more likely to slash you if you cross their child's path.

College athletics

I was at my daughter's track meet the other evening and saw two kids, a boy and a girl, former teammates of my daughter. Both had quit their college track and cross country teams after having been extremely dedicated -- almost obsessive -- runners in high school. The girl quit because of injuries, the boy because he didn't want to make the year-round time commitment to the sport.

Track and swimming -- and many other Olympic sports -- can be extremely limiting. If you're constantly concerned with getting enough sleep so you'll be fresh for the next morning's workout, if you have to constantly monitor your diet, if you have to shy away from drinking and partying (every college student's minor), you're going to miss out on a lot. Especially at a time when you should be trying new things.

And if you try to party as well as be an athlete, chances are you're not going to be a successful athlete.

Every student has to make choices. If you get heavily involved in drama, or the college newspaper, or the chess club, it means you have less time for other activities. But serious athletics require a time commitment and use of energy that dwarfs those of other activities. You're going to have to choose a career after college: why not be a dilettante while you can?

This logic of course doesn't apply to athletes who might effectively go on to professional sports careers. For them, an entirely different set of incentives applies. But for the rest of us -- and I'm speaking from experience -- extreme dedication just means putting on the blinders for limited rewards.

I congratulated both of those kids on their newfound freedom.

A departure

This blog specializes in exposing sociopaths, analyzing hypocrisy, political analysis, wry reveries, and humor. In other words, sarcasm and snark. It generally stays away from heartfelt sentiment. 

But I happened to stumble across this poem yesterday. I found it moving, so want to pass it along. There are two versions of the poem. The first is a 1932 version, the second is the original Pagan version:

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow;
I am the diamond glints on snow;
I am the sunlight on ripened grain;
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning hush
I am the quick uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft star that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die.

      -- Mary Frye 1932

---

Do not weep for me for I have not gone.
I am the wind that shakes the mighty Oak.
I am the gentle rain that falls upon your face.
I am the spring flower that pushes through the dark earth.
I am the chuckling laughter of the mountain stream.
Do not weep for me for I have not gone.

I am the memory that dwells in the heart of those that knew me.
I am the shadow that dances on the edge of your vision.
I am the wild goose that flies south at Autumns call and I shall return at Summer rising.
I am the stag on the wild hills way.
I am just around the corner.

Therefore, the wise weep not.
But rejoice at the transformation of my Being.

   --Author unknown

Addendum, same day:  I'm told that this poem is a popular choice at funerals. I haven't been to many funerals, and hadn't realized that.

Mid-life crisis

You don't hear that expression as much these days. It used to refer to a man hitting his 40's and then doing something silly to prove to himself that he was still young, like buying a sports car or getting a young girlfriend. And it wasn't every man who succumbed to this condition, only the particularly foolish ones.

Even if "mid-life crisis" never quite made it into the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, it was still considered an identifiable, distinct malady, not too dissimilar in nature to a "nervous breakdown" (whatever that meant).

This dread disease would almost always have its onset in a man's 40's (there was none of that foolish talk about how "50 is the new 35" back then). And it was assumed that the man would recover as soon as his sanity was restored, sort of like a patient being woken from hypnosis.

These days, you hear the phrase "mid life crisis" much less frequently, as people seem to have caught onto its real definition: being a guy -- of any age.

Most guys act in ways which would formerly have invoked the diagnosis "mid-life crisis" as soon as they can -- perhaps in their twenties. And even at the other end, age is less an impediment than it used to be. You might say that Viagra has encouraged "old age crises."

Exhibit A: Hugh Hefner.

Exhibit B: Silvio Berlusconi.

Do these guys look silly? Of course. Nonetheless, they look less so than their counterparts on the shuffleboard court at the retirement home.

The real crisis --no matter what your age is -- is not being able to act like Hefner and Berlusconi.

Our knowledge of psychology is dynamic and ever-changing. And we are far wiser than we were thirty years ago. We now know that to say that a male is having a mid-life crisis is somewhat redundant.

Maturity

Was chatting with a couple guys yesterday about how we still participate in sports at an age when our fathers were more sedentary, when one of them said, "Growing old is mandatory. Growing up is optional."

It's a great line; when I Googled it later, it was attributed to both Chili Davis and Bob Monkhouse. I also stumbled across a Wikiquotes site which featured observations on aging. A few of the more clever ones:

"On being old -- it's not nice but take comfort that you won't stay that way for ever." -- J.P. Donleavy

"We don't stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing."  -- Joseph Lee

"Inside every older person is a younger person wondering what happened." -- Jennifer Yane

"Wisdom doesn't necessarily come with age. Sometimes age just shows up all by itself." -- Tom Wilson

"It's never too late to be what you might have been." -- George Eliot

"First you forget names; then you forget faces; then you forget to zip up your fly; and then you forget to unzip your fly." -- Branch Rickey

Confessions of a beta male XIII: Fighting

There used to be an expression that men would use upon being insulted: "Them's fighting words." Speaking as a beta male, there have been very few such words in my lexicon. As a matter of fact, I can't think of any.

Push an alpha and he'll push back. Push me and I'll fall back. 

Alphas start a fight if you look at their girlfriend the wrong way. When I was young, I would just hope you wouldn't take her away.

Alphas are ready to fight if you insult their masculinity. My masculinity is, well, much more even-keeled.

To an alpha, the pleasure of delivering a punch to your face is worth the pain of receiving one to his. To me, a ten to one ratio wouldn't make it worthwhile.

You'll occasionally hear someone say of an alpha, "He's the kind of guy you want on your side in a bar fight." Ever since I first heard that fights occasionally break out in bars, I've avoided them. 

If an alpha takes martial arts lessons, and begins to feel proficient, he looks for an opportunity to use his new skills. To me, "self defense" means exactly that. In the twenty years since I got my black belt in karate, the only thing I've kicked are doors which are stuck. (And yes, the UFC did prove how useless karate by itself is; I might as well have gotten my black belt from the Arthur Murray School of Dance.)

I just don't seem to get that angry. I just can't think of anything other than going after my children that would rouse me to action. You can feel free to say what you want about me, my school, my hobbies, my hometown, or my country, completely secure in the knowledge that there will be absolutely no physical repercussions.

It's too easy for me to imagine what it would be like to have to put in false teeth every day for the rest of my life. Or lose an eye. Or even get a bloody nose. And I value my brain, so don't want it jarred.

Yeah -- that's why I'm a coward: I'm just way too intelligent!

In fact, I'll use any of the lame excuses that betas use to avoid a fight: Why would I want to fight him? That guy is crazy.... He's not worth arguing with. A guy like that isn't going to listen to reason....I'm the better man for having walked away.

I'm not too proud to resurrect that old standby from first grade: sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me.

A beta's life is nothing more than a series of justifications.

Rest in Peace

It's sometimes surprising to find out that movie stars you might have assumed were dead are in fact still alive. For instance, did you know that Ernest Borgnine, who played the cruel sergeant in From Here to Eternity, was still alive at age 94? Or Joan Fontaine, 94, who was nominated for an Academy Award for her role in Rebecca in 1940? Or Celeste  Holm, nominated for an Oscar for All About Eve in 1950? Or Eli Wallach, 96, the ugly one in The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly?

I had no idea that Cheetah, who achieved fame in the Tarzan films of the 1930's, was still alive, until this morning, when I read the following AP article stating that he had just died at the age of 80: 

http://news.yahoo.com/chimp-1930s-us-tarzan-films-dead-80-093119035.html

Cheetah never got any more acting jobs after Tarzan. He was essentially a child star who, once he lost his youthful cuteness, never got any more roles.  

One has to wonder if Cheetah was aware of his fame. If he was, was he resentful that he was typecast? He never even got a single speaking part. But perhaps becoming a crossover star wasn't really his ambition.

What would he have thought if he had seen the Planet of the Apes series? Would he have exulted in the ape's triumph over humans? Or would he have objected to the way they were portrayed: every bit as venal, selfish, prideful, and vicious as humans.

Wild chimpanzees evidently have an average lifespan of 45 years, so it's not entirely certain that this was actually the original Cheetah, and not just an impostor.

If it was him, even if he never really escaped the chimpanzee ghetto, at least he had the satisfaction of outliving costars Johnny Weissmuller and Maureen O'Sulllivan.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

Saw the remake last night. I had raved about the original movie nine months ago.

From the previews of the new version, it had looked as if Hollywood just wanted an English language version featuring actors with better cheekbones. Here are the stars of the two versions:

I found it hard to judge the new version, having just seen the other movie (and read the book). Whatever dramatic tension existed, I was somewhat numb to, since I already knew what was going to happen. And every time there was a departure from the original, instead of thinking, wow, that's ingenious, I'd think, wait a sec, that's not how it's supposed to happen.

It was a little as if I was reading two books side by side, and constantly going back and forth: it made it hard to lose myself in the fantasy.

Daniel Craig deglamorized himself well enough to be believable as a journalist. He laid off the steroids, usually had a couple days growth of white beard, and wore glasses. For half the movie he looked as if he had just gotten out of bed, the mark of an actor who can shed his vanity -- and act.

Not even heavy Goth make up and piercings could disguise Rooney Mara's good looks. She didn't give quite as hard-edged or feral a performance as Noomi Rapace, the half-Gypsy Swedish actress. But you couldn't really expect that from the granddaughter of Wellington Mara, owner of the NY Giants.

So, the new version has my recommendation. I think. But maybe not so much if you've already seen the Swedish version.

MIssion Accomplished

Yesterday 16 bombs exploded in Baghdad in a coordinated attack led by al Qaeda-connected Sunnis. At last count, 67 people were dead and 169 injured.

What happened in Iraq yesterday was a foretaste of what will happen in Afghanistan when we leave there. It will explode into sectarian violence, and the wrong side will triumph.

In Iraq it's going to be either the al Qaeda-aided Sunnis or the majority Shiites. Or maybe they carve the country up. And whatever leadership emerges will almost certainly eventually establish a theocracy which can't be voted out.

Obama's pronouncement three days ago that Iraq was now "sovereign, stable, and self-reliant" was, well, pure Obama. (True, Obama didn't get us into the war; he just put a false ending on it.)

After Saddam was overthrown we wasted a lot of time there ensuring.....what, exactly? In the end, what will we have accomplished? Did we actually build a stable and self-reliant government? We stood as good a chance of converting the Iraqis to Christianity.

The same will happen in Afghanistan. We got our man (and Osama wasn't even in that country). So what are we fighting for now? The Taliban may wait a week, rather than just a day, but their ultimate triumph is just as inevitable. The best we can do while we're there is merely repress them.

What are we waiting for?

Oh, that's right, the Presidential election.

.17956

A friend recently got to chat for an hour with the leader of the mission which went in to get Osama bin Laden. I'm not allowed to describe the circumstances, but this is a true story.

Of all the elite branches of the military, the Navy Seals are generally considered to have the toughest physical requirements; less than one in five of those who try out make it. A select few Seals are selected to try out for Seal Team Six. And it's probably a safe assumption that the thirty best members of that group went after Osama.

So the guy who was chosen to head that mission was the elite of the elite of the elite.

I asked my friend, so what was this guy like? What was he built like, how smart did he seem?

My friend said that he was polite, and came across soft spoken but confident. He was in his thirties, good-looking, six feet tall, and weighed maybe 210, none of which seemed to be fat. He added, "He wasn't, you know, New York smart, like some of these guys who just have to prove to you how smart they are within the first five minutes of meeting you. But everything he said made sense and fit together, and after a while it just sort of gradually dawned on you that you were talking to a very smart guy."

My friend said that one of the more interesting things that came out of the conversation was that the military brass aren't necessarily fond of Special Operations personnel. Admirals and the like are used to having lower-ranking personnel toadying up to them, and Navy Seals, who are elite in a different kind of way, usually aren't quite as effusive in their obsequiousness. So there's sometimes a little tension.

This Seal had been on 85 combat missions before the Osama raid. That is a mind-boggling number. Let's say the odds of surviving any given mission are 98%. (I have no idea what they actually are, but that seems a reasonable estimate, and it's quite possible the odds on some missions are less.) But using that 98% estimate means that the odds of surviving all 85 missions are .98 to the 85th power, or .17956.

In other words, a less than one in five chance.

People who value their own lives less, or are at least willing to risk them in a good cause, actually lead lives more valuable than those of us who value our lives more highly.

If only all crime were like this....

The following AP article appeared this morning:

http://news.yahoo.com/12-indicted-beard-cutting-attacks-ohio-amish-212632091.html

Evidently 12 members of a renegade Amish sect were charged with federal hate crimes for cutting off the beards and hair of another group of Amish:

"The five attacks between September and November involved cutting women's hair and men's beards and hair. That's considered deeply offensive in Amish culture."

(The ringleader of the breakaway group was named Mullet, appropriately enough.)

There's something almost nostalgia-inducing about such a crime. Yes, it's disrespectful. And it did involve physical restraint. But in the end, it still seems more mischevious than truly destructive. What harm was done? Hair does grow back.

If only crime in the inner city were as harmless. Imagine the news reports:

"Darnell Pinckney, 19, of Detroit, was arrested on Thursday and charged with a federal hate crime for short sheeting the bed of Jermaine Watkins, 20. Pinckney was reportedly angered that Watkins had disrespected him by making a snowman and placing Pinckney's hat on top of it."

"The LAPD has reported that for the past week the Crips and the Bloods have been engaged in an all out turf war in Compton. To date 47 gang members have been arrested for crimes ranging from squirting each other with plastic ketchup bottles to drive-by water balloonings. In one particularly brutal attack, Bloods member Javon Jackson, 18, was reportedly accosted by three Crips and given a wedgie."

"Demetrius Williams, 22, was arrested in East St. Louis on Wednesday for having placed Defario Smith's hand into a bowl of warm water while Smith was sleeping, causing Smith to urinate in his pants. Williams is being held held without bond and will be arraigned in U.S. district court on Monday. Witnesses claimed that Williams was motivated by a desire for revenge after Smith allegedly put shaving cream on the earpiece of his home phone."

"Adante Brown was arrested at the Marcy Houses in the Bedford Stuyvesant section of Brooklyn yesterday on a charge of sexual assault. 'It was absolutely horrifying,' said victim Sheniece Jones. 'We were standing on the rooftop having a perfectly pleasant conversation when all of a sudden he tried to kiss me. If I hadn't pulled away in time he would have planted a big one right on my lips.' The FBI is looking into whether Ms. Jones' civil rights were violated."

If only...

The Duel in the Pool

An article about a recent swim meet, for swim fans only:

http://www.swimmingworldmagazine.com/lane9/news/Commentary/29085.asp?q=The-%22Duel%22

Martha Nicholas, Part II

A commenter linked this video clip about Martha Nicholas, the sociopath who scammed people into believing that she had cancer, in response to my recent post:

http://www.wric.com/global/Category.asp?c=190525&autoStart=true&topVideoCatNo=default&clipId=6552713&flvUri=&partnerclipid=

Observe the way Martha's voice almost breaks as she says she may not see her son again. Look at her sincere expression as she speaks about her terminal diagnosis. Admire Martha's bravery as she announces that she is a three time cancer survivor and a current cancer fighter.

These whoppers are delivered with none of the hesitation that a normal person would have when lying.

If you were unfamiliar with sociopaths you'd have had absolutely no reason to doubt her.

The fourth Kardashian sister

When I saw this picture of Jersey Shore's Nicole "Snooki" Polizzi in the New York Post this morning, it hit me who she really is.

If she actually were part of that family, her sisters would  probably look down on her for being shorter, less intelligent, and so on. But really, the similarities -- especially of character and talent -- are far greater than the differences.

Don't worry, I won't make any portentous comments about how their television shows herald the end of civilization or some such. I actually think it's a positive comment on our society that it can provide such worthless people such a splendid living.

And yes, I am completely ashamed of myself for even knowing who any of them they are.

Presidential campaign

Six weeks ago I announced that I was running for President, and outlined my platform. I listed additional planks here and here.

I must now admit that I am the first candidate in history to announce his candidacy and then just sort of forget about it.

(Ross Perot came close in '92, but, unlike me, he never entirely forgot.)

It's not senility that caused me to forget. It's simply that I've had more important topics to discuss -- like who the prettiest actresses are.

In any case, I am proud to announce that my candidacy has thus far has been untarnished by scandal.

Well, not that proud. It's mainly because my life is so incredibly boring. (If anybody wants to help me get into trouble, I'm open to suggestions.)

I am proud to announce that unlike Michelle Bachmann, Rick Perry, and Herman Cain, my support hasn't gone down one whit from my peak. I have as many people planning to vote for me as I did a month ago.

But, alas, my support has not been growing. So the next step will probably be to decide whom to throw my support to.

I'd be tempted to say Ron Paul because he seems the purest of the bunch; he certainly has the right attitude about downsizing government. But I saw him on Leno Friday night and he was a complete turkey. He kept making lame comments and then smiling goofily as if he thought he was being witty. Leno's audience had been salted with Paul supporters, so they roared with approval no matter what he said. But it was painful to watch.

At one point Leno asked him what he thought about gay marriage, and Paul answered, "Well, I think the government should stop arguing about it." An evasion worthy of Hillary Clinton.

It's hard to get behind Gingrich given his character issues. If Herman Cain seemed to be using his campaign as a way to get laid more, Newt seems to be using his as a way to make more money. Gingrich reportedly tried to turn a recent top level meeting of Republicans in New York City into a book signing.

I've heard any number of people say that it's very important to Newt that he always be the smartest guy in the room; if any of those people liked him, they'd simply have complimented his intelligence. And when the people who dislike you most are the ones who know you best, that's never an encouraging sign. 

Jon Hunstman is a little like the class valedictorian -- oops, make that salutorian (sorry, Newt) -- whom nobody notices. He may be the most decent, most diplomatic, most experienced, and most well-versed in foreign affairs. But nobody seems to care; there's just nothing dramatic about him. If he were 6' 3", more masculine-looking, a little less polite, and a little funnier, his candidacy would probably be doing a lot better.

Michelle Bachmann's husband evidently runs a Christian counseling clinic which tries to convert homosexuals into heterosexuals. Perhaps while he's at it he can perform another miracle and raise his wife's IQ.

Rick Perry is no better. At the last debate he was said to have done well just because he didn't stumble again, but the kudos he got sounded a little like the kind of approval that accrues to a Downs Syndrome child who has just learned to tie his shoelaces.

Mitt Romney seems like one of those guys from the rich boys' fraternity in Revenge of the Nerds who was always picking on the nerds. His father was a governor, so Mitt deserves the best -- the Presidency!

Still, he's competent, and he'll probably be the last pol standing come spring; in fact, I'd be willing to bet ten thousand dollars on that.

Any of these candidates -- as dumb or sociopathic as they might be -- would make a better President than the current one.

I'll let you know which one I'm backing after he wins the nomination.

Christopher Hitchens, RIP

http://www.nypost.com./p/news/national/author_christopher_hitchens_dead_I2CJFjBRTGQGhDkbeKPSSL/0

Christopher Hitchens died last night at age 62. He was ferociously intelligent, and a real free thinker. The NY Post obituary, above, gives a sense of him.

You can't possibly be any more iconoclastic than to write an expose on Mother Teresa and call it The Missionary Position.

Addendum, next day: Just read Steve Sailer's dissenting obituary;  he does make some telling points about Hitchens' conversion to neocon.