Judge Actions, Not People

People are people, with all that entails. They are amazing, and beautiful, and flawed. They are capable of astounding achievements and unspeakable evils.

It isn’t helpful to say that “he is a racist.” It can advance the conversation to note that “that comment was racist.” It obscures the truth to say “she was a great woman.” It is inspirational to say that “she performed a great deed.”

I understand that the difference is largely just a matter of tone, and that there may be ample (and more than ample) justification to put this label or that on one person or another. But, to what end? To me, the only end is to improve - for us all to be better. We cannot learn or move forward if we are just calling each other names. No matter how well-earned, that leads to defensiveness and digging in and no movement. If we can focus on the actions, we may be able to teach and learn and get better.

And maybe we can get past the idea that someone is a “great person” or an “evil person.” We just might be able to get to the truth that everyone is great; everyone is evil; everyone is everyone. A person is much too complex to boil down into one word, unless that word is human.

Sad Statement About Society + 140 Characters = Mea Culpa

I kind of accidentally insulted one of my favorite websites on Twitter yesterday.

Yesterday afternoon, Hillary Clinton announced her campaign for the Presidency online.

Phil Plait (a very good @BadAstronomer) retweeted @EverydaySexism's Everyday Sexism Bingo Card for it.

 I saved it, and replied: "@EverydaySexism @BadAstronomer Saved that image. I read @fark, so I'll likely fill it in the next 20 minutes or so."

About 5 hours later @Fark replied with "@beaver1224 @EverydaySexism @BadAstronomer :("

When I saw the frowny face, I realized that I had not quite conveyed my meaning. D'oh! There is no color for stupid.

What I MEANT to say was this:

However you feel about Hillary Clinton, you cannot deny that there will be tons of these will be lobbed about. Were they arrows, we would be able to eat in the shade for the next year and a half. The "safest" place to fire the arrows of everyday sexism from is the anonymity of the internet. But there are all too many people - some of them policy-makers, some of them people that influence policy-makers - that will fire away without even that anonymity.

I like to describe Fark as "a news aggregator site with attitude." If something interesting, stupid, funny, cool, unlikely, scary, or just Florida happens, it's almost certain to be on Fark. I am there every day. I am, in fact, a TotalFarker, paying for the privilege of seeing (and commenting) on these stories before they go before the public, so to speak. Fark has a very diverse community, even among its pay subscribers. There are a lot of very cool people there; there are a lot of complete idiots there; there are a lot of trolls there. Some of those groups overlap.

So here's the thing. I am fairly certain that hate will be spewed at Mrs. Clinton. I am fairly certain that some of that will hit the news. I am fairly certain that some of it will be reflected in the comment threads of most or all of those articles. I am also fairly certain that those hateful comments will be called out, ridiculed, and lambasted in those threads.

Fark is not a bad place, it's a great place, but it is an internet place. Hateful things unfortunately happen on the internet, but positive things often follow.

@Fark, I'm very sorry I didn't think to find a way to stuff that into 140 characters. I'm sorry I didn't think to just shut up. I'm sorry that I didn't think much at all, really.

I still love you. Can we be friends?

Weather

So, we just had a bout of Apocalyptic Rain. For a moment I thought, maybe the rapture did come and we just didn't notice 'cause no one qualified.

Thoughts

Earlier this week, I saw this posted:

"1. what other people think of me is none of my business 2. worry is misplaced imagination and 3. if you don't want to be happy, you'll find reasons not and the other way around."

I thought that they were all such perfect sentiments, I had to spread them around a bit. Number one is counterintuitive. "Of course it's my business," you think. "They're thinking about me." But really, it's not. You are who you are. People's thoughts about you will always be colored by their own experiences, biases, and beliefs. But what it really comes down to is be you. Do what you feel is right, not what you think will make others think well of you.

Number two is just remarkably phrased. One of those sentences I wish I could etch on my wife's brain.

Number three is a truism and a more general statement of the golden rule of military assignments: "Every assignment is what you make it." Everyone who's ever been in the military has heard this. Almost everyone in the military has said it. The general is something I grabbed and ran with when I found out that my follow-on for Korea was not Denver, but right back here at Langley. I decided it was either be miserable for a year, or be happy - assignment be damned. So, I was (and am) the guy who always has a smile on his lips; who answers the casual "how's it goin'?" with "it's a great day!" And it has made all the difference.

This week, I'm thankful for the food that keeps my family nourished. I am all too aware that there are lots of people all around the world who don't get enough to eat. I am grateful that when I'm forced to throw away some food that one of my sons has dropped on the floor or some such, that it's an annoyance, rather than a tragedy.

Yay Vets!

This was an interesting, short week. Thursday was Veteran's Day, so Ryan's school had a teacher day on Friday. I had to take a day of leave to stay home with him, so a 3-day work week and 4-day weekend. Not bad.

I was pleased to see on my social media lots of acknowledgment of why we were off on Thursday. I have avoided crowing about how much we owe to our veterans since I am one. I'm not really comfortable with the "Go me!" that would amount to, but there are a lot of things that we have that are attributable to the fact that many people have sworn to do whatever needs be done. I would like to thank all former, present, and future servicemembers - and their families for that sacrifice.

Somewhat related to that, my "what I'm thankful for" this week is my job. Though there are many things I don't like about it; though it often makes my life much harder than I'd prefer it to be; it is still mentally fulfilling. It is also one of the more secure jobs in the country right now. That is no small relief.

Cast Call

The last six weeks have been frustrating. There have been some upsides: everyone is very helpful, I've had Colonels and Chief Master Sergeants hold doors for me, I didn't have to drive to Baltimore. But, overall, it's just aggravating to wear a cast. The most mundane tasks become trials. Just walking upstairs is almost exhausting. Grabbing a Pepsi and taking it to the couch or my desk was a testimony to my ingenuity.

It's not over, but I'm in a new phase of recovery. No more cast (yay!), but still using crutches because my ankle is too weak (boo!). My foot has more freedom, but it has more pain (because of the ankle, not the break).

I learned a few things over the past week. If anyone gets a foot cast in the future, heed these warnings!

1. Always wear a sock or other protective garment on your other foot - at least with the fiberglass-bandage style cast. You will continually bump your good ankle with the cast. If you don't protect it, it will break the skin eventually.

2. Even though they'll suggest putting a bag over it when you shower, just take a bath with it propped up on the edge. The cast is abrasive enough to put little bitty holes in the bag while resting on the bottom of the shower. Then, you get a little water in the cast and it adheres to your foot for the next 4 weeks.

3. Wear clothes with big pockets whenever possible. You'd be surprised how much stuff you carry around without thinking about it...until you don't have the hands free to carry it (like the aforementioned Pepsi).

4. Wear a sock over the tip of your cast. It not only hides the toes (that may not be at their most photogenic) and mutes the funk, it also provides a little traction for that foot when you're standing on a non-carpeted surface.

5. Watch out for wet surfaces - like the kitchen and bathroom floors with a little bit of water. Crutches lose ALL traction on a wet kitchen floor. That leads to smacking your foot down to catch your balance. That tends to hurt a little.

I hope you never have need of these tips, but if you do, I hope you find them useful.

Touch Someone

An extremely dear friend of mine - sister of my soul and brother by water - wrote recently about struggling to find an audience. Writing is what she does, and as with any artist, there is a sadness attached to shouting into the void. Playing upon the stage in an empty auditorium is merely rehearsal. I often joke about my dearth of readers (and many thanks to both of you), and truthfully the fact doesn't particularly bother me. But I am not a writer.

It caused me to reflect on how hard I sometimes try to get someone to go to karaoke with me. To find someone I can amuse with silly one-liners. To scrape up someone I can educate on some facet of knowledge I've gleaned over the years. Whatever your art, there is a joy in sharing that with someone. In having your efforts acknowledged by somebody other than yourself and the howling nothingness.

Please, any of you who read this: share with someone you care about something that they love to do. We can make each other a little less lonely today.

I <3 the Olympics

The Olympics have begun, and we do get some of the coverage here in Korea. I'm watching the Parade of Nations (after watching that amazing Opening Ceremony).

I love the Olympics. It is inspiring to watch the best athletes in the world do the things that they are best at. The competition is supremely engaging. But watching the Parade of Nations strikes me with two other thoughts that inspire me even more.

As the countries' delegations come in and do their walk, they end in the center of the stadium, divided in their little spaces. But if you look closely (and NBC's coverage moves in a few times to show), there is quite a bit of mingling going on. The athletes from one country go to visit, take pictures with, and shake hands with, the athletes from other (sometimes "opposing") countries. The Olympic ideal never seems so true and clear as it does when you see that.

The other thing that strikes me is looking at the delegations from countries around the world, I can't help but notice the beautiful women. I don't understand how you can have racists in this world. I mean, look at the women from Namibia, and Senegal, and India, and Liechtenstein, and Australia, and Bermuda, and Iraq, and Argentina, and everywhere! How can anyone look on these people and even comprehend the word "inferior" without applying it to himself/herself. I can't.

I love these moments!

I just had a wonderful idea.

I was watching a show called Nova ScienceNOW that dealt with (among other things) the theory of emergence. Basically, emergence is the way complex systems and patterns arise out of a bunch of relatively simple interactions; essentially self-organization.

Now those of you with a science bent are probably thinking: "Wait, doesn't entropy say that can't happen?" It does seem to be contrary to what we know of organization. Order marches toward Chaos. That's entropy. What's up?

It occurs to me that just as we have conservation of energy and conservation of matter, we may have conservation of organization. When you see examples of entropy: as things decay, energy slowly transfers to create equilibrium; when you see examples of emergence: as computers teach themselves, molecules rebond in different configurations; what you see is not two different, opposite phenomena, but conversion of organization. Like the rock converts potential energy to kinetic when it rolls down the hill. Like the acid and base convert to water and salt when combined.

It may not be true. But it's certainly elegant.

Welcome to my brain

Two items today:

First is The Gazebo Story. If you've ever played D & D, this will be hillarious. If you've never played, but understand the basic concepts, it will be hillarious. If you've no idea, well, you may still find it hillarious (but probably to a lesser extent). The Gazebo Story is the first on the page, but the others are quite good, too.

Second is a stray thought I had today. I never hear about biker gangs anymore. When I was growing up, one of the most fearful things in the real world was a "Hell's Angel." Now it occurs to me that I haven't even heard the term in 20 years. Could it be they've all just "grown out of it?" It's fun to imagine a pack of 70 year-old dudes in leather on Harleys cruising down the interstate at 35 miles an hour. Every single one with their left blinker on.

No Color for Stupid

I realized this just today on the drive home from work. There is no color for stupid. Colors represent all sorts of other things. You can be green with envy, yellow-bellied, red with anger, yell until you're blue in the face, be in a black mood, have the blues, or even be so full of sh*t your eyes are brown (guilty). But there's no color for stupid.

I'd like to think that it's because stupid skips past all boundaries. It cannot be contained in a single color. It will not stay with a single race, or creed, or religion, or sex, or nationality; not even income levels, or careers can claim immunity. There are stupid people in the intelligence community for crying out loud!

Even within a given person, there is no refuge. Everyone has stupid moments. I'm sure Stephen Hawking has had an incident or two. Albert Einstein had problems with basic math, or so they say. I've often said that Homer Simpson is the modern-day Everyman: everyone has been Homer at one time or another. And if there's a more compelling example of stupid, I'd like to see it (on second thought, I probably wouldn't).

So I guess I'm glad there's no color for stupid. That way I can have any color I want.

Another Saturday Night...

Saturday night, I helped out at a bingo parlor to raise money for my office. Let me just say that I have, in the past, thought that I might possibly have some small gambling issues.

Nope.

I saw some gambling folks on Saturday night. Along with the normal paper cards, there are computers that keep track of 54 cards at a time. I saw people there with 6 computers that were constantly running through the instant cards (like scratch-offs) that we were selling. There were people already there when we showed up. One of the more regular volunteers told me that those people had been there since 8:00 that morning. (Bingo apparently runs every 5-6 hours.)

And if you thought poker players and sailors were superstitious, you should come check this out. I was pegged as lucky by a couple of ladies; the color of the tickets were lucky or unlucky depending on the person and color; the position of the cards in my bucket was important for some reason...it was wild.

--Beav (That's a lovely perfume, must you marinate in it?)

Shorts (As in Eat My)

Guess this means I'm a guy: My wife bought a dozen outfits for the baby on Friday. As she was getting them ready to put in the wash, she got a Sharpie and numbered them all so I could match numbers like some Geek Garanimals.

Please don't throw things: Last week, some friends at work and I went to a Vietnamese restaurant for lunch. Their main category is the soup, or Pho (It's quite yummy). This, of course, led some of us calling the others "No Phos" because they got rice dishes instead. It occured to me as I ate that I could probably find a recipe online to make it for myself. Though, it probably wouldn't be authentic, and likely my first outing wouldn't be of top-notch quality. It would be So-so faux Pho.

Is there a hurricane coming?: I went shopping today. Did you realize today's the 1st? I didn't. It was an absolute madhouse. In several aisles, I would be willing to swear people were looting.

--Beav

Trip Report

I had a fun trip. On the flight down, I saw clouds so thick and fluffy that it felt like I could hop out and bounce on them. Beautiful. When I got to the base and found billeting, the woman working the counter noticed my knee brace and gave me a ground floor room 2 doors down from the desk. Thanks, Rewa! Then, of course, it was time to visit friends. On Tuesday, they managed to find a bar doing karaoke (they're so awesome!), and so we went and had some fun. Though the barmaid insisted that the two of them drink alcohol (I was DD and don't drink, besides), we had the mic almost to ourselves and were able to sing all sorts of things. They even had Hear Me In the Harmony, which I've wanted to sing since approximately 3 seconds after the first time I heard it start in my CD player. I didn't do too badly, I think.

The training wasn't too bad; fairly boring, actually. I got to show a new kid the beautiful beaches of the Gulf Coast. The flight back was interesting, too. On the first leg, the entire complement of flight attendants were attractive, which was novel. And the second leg had one attendant who poured drinks as if she were on speed, epileptic, had Parkinson's Disease, or all three; and another who wore what can only be described as the official Delta Airlines pajama and bathrobe set. Both crews were quite efficient and did their jobs well, my shallow observations notwithstanding.

Then came the best part of the trip: getting home. Ahhh...

--Beav

I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing

The other day, I was having dinner with some of my classmates. As the 1/2 dozen of us ate, someone at another table kept eying Chris, one of my comrades. When he finally came over and it turned out to be an old friend, he mentioned noticing one black guy (Chris) with 5 whites. Faith, who had previously remarked at being the only woman at the table, looked up at me for a second almost stunned. "You know, I didn't even notice that!"

I wish the world was like that.

Adult Attention Defic...ooh look!

I love white boards. They are so infinitely handy to scribble notes to yourself, lists of things you need to do, or a quick outline to organize your thought processes. I realized today that what I need, here and now, is whiteboard material that you can tack to the wall (or the bulletin board that I have in my room). Unfortunately, the Publix I was shopping in when that revelation hit me had nothing that would meet that need. I suspect that no one can meet that need as of yet.

On the other hand, they did have a sushi counter. After finding that every choice had avocado in it, the man behind the counter asked me if he could make something for me. I said "I'd like a spicy roll, but I don't like avocado." "Tuna, Salmon, or Shrimp?" was his reply. I asked if I could have some of each, and he assured me that was no problem, though it would fill two packages instead of one. Not a problem for this guy. He urged me to finish shopping and come back, so I continued on my way. As I walk through an aisle on the other end of the store looking for tissues, I hear a voice call for me. I look up, and here comes the sushi guy bearing my two packages of spicy roll, no avocado. Just brought them out and found me. Now that's what I call service.

And lastly, I think that 5 washers is too few for a building with 90 rooms. Particularly when all or most of the occupants are on the same schedule, so everyone wants to wash their clothes either Saturday or Sunday morning. Problematic at best. At least I'm not a woman, having to worry about who may be pawing through my things if I leave the tiny laundry room. Guys rarely have to worry about that.

--Beav (Boing!)

Stereotypeses, Bah!

I am so lucky. Last weekend, my wife replaced the battery in my car. She was barefoot and pregnant and in the garage! How awesome! (Not that that's how she should be, but as a caricature of the old sexist stereotype.) The thing that was so fantastic about it, besides the humor, was that she is so comfortable with all the handyman type tasks that are so stereotypically male. I love the way we defy stereotypes without even trying. Sweet.

Something occurred to me this morning: one of the many phrases used to describe something as extremely easy is "Cheesecake," and yet cheesecake is notoriously difficult to make properly. So now, I'm puzzled. If anyone can come up with a "phrase etymology," please let me know.

And finally, another quiz result. My temperament:

You Have a Phlegmatic Temperament

Mild mannered and laid back, you take life at a slow pace. You are very consistent - both in emotions and actions. You tend to absorb set backs easily. You are cool and collected. It is difficult to offend you. You can remain composed and unemotional. You are a great friend and lover. You don't demand much of others. While you are quiet, you have a subtle wit that your friends know well. At your worst, you are lazy and unwilling to work at anything. You often get stuck in a rut, without aspirations or dreams. You can get too dependent on others, setting yourself up for abandonment.

What Temperment Are You?

--Beav

Off Madison

You'd have to live under a rock or be Amish to not hear/see commercials, almost on a continual basis. I find them interesting on many levels, particularly in what they say about us, the audience (or perhaps what the writers think of us). I am often irritated by commercials that so obviously expect me (or the audience) to be an idiot. "Look how crappily this works! (When I use it crappily) See how much better our product works! (when I use it much better)" I mean, really.

And then there's a commercial that runs here that has the idiocy in the wrong place. A local eye doctor does "intralase" laser eye surgery. The cool thing about it is that they don't cut a flap in your cornea before carving it with the laser. The particular spot that creeps me out is narrated by nurse that works for the good doctor "...it's not as scary and I think it's perfectly safe." Huh?!?! She states her opinion as fact and what should be fact as her opinion. Is it perfectly safe? Or has her boss just convinced her that it is?

But not all commercials suck. I heard one this morning in which a young woman relates that both her parents love Country Music, so "it was only natural when I got a guitar, I would go into Country Music...or not." The commercial goes on to say that every girl should find her own voice. I can't agree more, though I wouldn't restrict that comment to girls. Everyone should find their own voice, particularly when it comes to creating something. Any creation should really come from the soul (or the heart, if you like) of the creator. Very cool. And the new VW ad campaign with the German urban dude just rocks!

And what do I have from the quiz front today? The Open-mindedness quiz:

You Are 72% Open Minded

You are a very open minded person, but you're also well grounded.Tolerant and flexible, you appreciate most lifestyles and viewpoints.But you also know where you stand firm, and you can draw that line.You're open to considering every possibility - but in the end, you stand true to yourself.

How Open Minded Are You?

(Robot Roll Call)

--Beav

It's Christmas Eve! Happy Anniversary!

As I said, it's Christmas Eve. That makes it my anniversary. (Hence the 1224 on my name.)

This morning at midnight, Saundra and I exchanged gifts. I was able (finally) to find something to give her that fits the "Willow" tradition for a 9th anniversary. She happens to love weeping willows, so I got her a willow bonsai tree. She got me Dancing Barefoot by Wil Wheaton. I was totally stoked, and finished it by noon (though, to be fair, it only has 110 pages).

Saundra made a very astute observation this evening. When you're a child, and all you have to do is wait, Dec 24th dra-a-a-ags! But, as a parent, when I've (you've, we've, whatever) got to set out all the Santa presents and get everything as you need it for tomorrow morning, do last minute Christmas Dinner shopping, etc, it flies like an SST.

Happy Christmachannukwanzica!

--Beav

More Stuff

Last night, my wife made bulgogi. It's a Korean spicy barbecuish meat dish, usually served with/over rice. I think it needed a bit more oil, but it was incredibly tasty and the heat was kickin'! That was pretty amazing. I mean, just a few years ago, neither of us would have considered making something like that. And now, as we discussed the apparent lack of oil, she suggested we find some red pepper oil, I half-snorted and said "we'll just make some." Dude. When did that happen?

We finally put our Christmas tree up last night, and this year, Ryan got to help. Holy mackerel! He was so-o-o-o excited. (I know, "no duh!") He'd put a little ball on the tree, come running back, "give me another one!" and start spinning. I'd have to stop him, let the dizzy pass before I could give one to him. And this was for every ball! He was a little scared to put the star up, but then again, I was holding him up and out toward the tree, while standing on a chair, with Saundra steadying me. I think it was a little too precarious for him. So, I got it up there for him.

And today, at work. I was told that I remind a few of my coworkers of Burt Reynolds. I had to ask: "Smokey and the Bandit Burt, or Boogie Nights Burt?" Much to my relief, they were thinking of old-school, Smokey and the Bandit/Cannonball Run Burt. So now I have to find a fat guy to hang around with me. Think Dom's available?

--Beav