Christmas Reading

It has nothing to do with Christmas, but I enjoyed reading In the Beginning Was the Command Line, by Neal Stephanson. I was sent to it by Alan Jacobs on one of his blogs. It's a great combination of history (of technology), polemic, and literature (it definitely expanded my vocabulary). It's also somewhat of a time capsule, as a technology book published in 1999.

One of my favorite parts is his allegory of operating systems as vehicles. Windows sells clunky station wagons, Apple sells sleek, expensive Euro-style sedans, and a motley group of hackers (Linux) offers free tanks by the side of the road . . .

The group giving away the free tanks only stays alive because it is staffed by volunteers, who are lined up at the edge of the street with bullhorns, trying to draw customers' attention to this incredible situation. A typical conversation goes something like this:

Hacker with bullhorn: "Save your money! Accept one of our free tanks! It is invulnerable, and can drive across rocks and swamps at ninety miles an hour while getting a hundred miles to the gallon!"

Prospective station wagon buyer: "I know what you say is true...but...er...I don't know how to maintain a tank!"

Bullhorn: "You don't know how to maintain a station wagon either!"

Buyer: "But this dealership has mechanics on staff. If something goes wrong with my station wagon, I can take a day off work, bring it here, and pay them to work on it while I sit in the waiting room for hours, listening to elevator music."

Bullhorn: "But if you accept one of our free tanks we will send volunteers to your house to fix it for free while you sleep!"

Buyer: "Stay away from my house, you freak!"

That accurately captures my feelings about Linux, although I've started to use a few free/GNU programs like the GIMP (which I used to create the effect on our Christmas card photo) and Notepad++.

Old School Web-log Post

Got up early today (for a Saturday) to go to what was probably the most important meeting of my short life. We may have made the right decision, but I don't think any of us feel good about it.

When we got back, I was keen to take advantage of 75-cent laundry day. It's a Christmas present from the apartment management. They've been putting out little gestures of kindness for the last several months, probably to soften the blow of impending measures to squeeze more money out of us. The latest plan is to start charging us for utilities, but according to the letter the management sent, it's to help the environment. So I guess that makes it all right.

Mrs. Chaka had to go to a cookie-decorating party, so she left the laundry in my hands. Regular readers will remember that these hands have been shown to be less than capable, so it was a risk on her part. I made it through without disaster, though, possibly because our only remaining expensive electronic items are too large to fit in pants pockets. Between trips to the laundry room, I got a recipe for pie crust, tracked down some more addresses for the Christmas card mailing, and did some German flashcards on my Palm.

Mrs. Chaka had told me last week that all she wanted for Christmas was for me to clean the bathtub, so I knocked that out; now I don't have to buy her anything. That's a relief, since I had no idea what to buy her.

I kid, I kid.

I've discovered that Sound Opinions makes an excellent companion to Saturday afternoon chores and errands. I also listened to an episode of Fibber McGee and Molly from Dec. 19, 1941. (on the Those Were the Days radio program). There was a little topical humor:

A: You know why Hitler gives all his addresses in Beer Gardens?
B: No why?
A: So that when he starts foaming at the mouth, nobody can tell!

Not a great joke, but it got the biggest laugh of the show.

What's odd about those radio shows is how stationary they are. The whole show takes place in one scene, in one room. Characters walk on, tell exactly five jokes, and walk off. Half of the jokes are in stories that people are telling about things that happened offstage.

Mrs. Chaka returned in the afternoon, concealing my Christmas present and nursing an upset stomach. She's been out of commission for the rest of the day. We concluded that the anxiety of the morning meeting may have done it to her. At least, we're hoping it's that and not some virus that will now be spread throughout the Western suburbs via a vector of Christmas cookies.

I catalogued some books for the library that a friend is planning to found in Liberia. We passed the 1,000-volume mark with a commentary on Revelation from Inter-Varsity Press (this volume was published by the British version, which uses the hyphen, unlike its CamelCased American cousin).

Then it was dinner, a comfort movie for my ailing wife (which featured Ann Paul Veal!), and writing this.

A new Il-LOW-nois

At least the last one wasn't arrested in office. But that probably just means the prosecutors weren't on the ball as fast. I know I shouldn't trust Wikipedia's entry on a controversial public figure, but I couldn't resist reading Milorad's. It was a trip down inbred-scandal-ridden-Illinois-politics lane.

Mrs. Chaka reports: "We had a little discussion in our office in which N____ and I assured D___ and L___ (both Illinois natives) that other states aren't like this."

Just so you know, she wasn't cursing. I redacted the names (a la a Victorian novelist) to protect the innocent.

I just have one question: Can we take his name off the Open Road Tolling arches now?



No? How about the children's healthcare plan logo?

The Paradox of Christian Ethics

Jon has posted an excellent, lengthy quote from Chesterton, in which he speaks of the paradoxes inherent in the Christian virtues: faith, hope, and charity. It reminds me of a question I wanted to pose to my ethics professor. (Unfortunately, the class was not question-friendly. Maybe D. C. Cramer can shed light on the question.)

The ethics class introduced me to the categories of moral erogation and moral super-erogation. Erogation is doing what is ethically required of you, like not shooting your enemy in the back. Super-erogation is going beyond what is ethically required, like jumping in front of a bullet to save your enemy. You could see these categories in terms of Chesterton's pagan virtue of justice: erogation is giving a man what he deserves, super-erogation is giving him better than what he deserves.

The ethics course also taught that the foundation of ethics was divine command. That is, we don't first determine what is ethical based on the consequences of our action. The ethical mandate isn't some consequentialist goal such as "Maximize happiness," or "Acheive equality for all persons." Your first call is to do what God has commanded.

But here's the wrinkle: Hasn't God in Christ commanded us to do super-erogation? Hasn't he said that we are obligated to "go the extra mile," love our enemies, and treat the undeserving with charity? If so, then based on divine command theory, just about anything you can think of to call super-erogation is just plain old erogation. What I wanted to ask my professor is how these can be useful categories in divine command theory.

I think that Christ likes to play havoc with our categories. He takes the common idea of justice--giving a man what he's due--and inverts it. Justice isn't a matter of giving someone what they've earned; it's a matter of giving someone what you haven't earned, but have gotten anyway. You must forgive, because you have been forgiven. God's grace to you obligates you to be gracious.

The Gobbler

I've been meaning to post this link since Thanksgiving Day. You must check out Lileks's Gobbler site. This will make your day, friend.

Old Message, New Vid

This is really well produced:



Thanks to Pirate Jimmy for accepting the movie challenge. PJ, you know Alan Tudyk's name but not his character's name? That's weird. Also, you should have known #8 from the beginning.

Then again, I'm sure I won't be able to rattle off half of your list when you make it.

Our first award

More regional bigotry

Lingamish sums up the experience of every rural American:

"In the small town where I grew up we absorbed from infancy a loathing of the citizens of the nearly identical town down the road."

The rivalry I grew up in was between Worthington and Adrian. It goes back to battles over which town would become county seat, with some Protestant vs. Catholic animosity thrown in. Adrian's Wikipedia page actually talks about it.

A professor in college once told a story about the Masons duking it out with the Knights of Columbus in her rural Nebraska town. And by duking it out, I mean fisticuffs and destruction of property. I wonder if any of that went down in Nobles County.

Movie Quote Challenge

Jon's posted quotes from his 30 favorite movies. I don't know that many of his, so I decided to post my own. Make your guesses in the comments!

1. A: I adore anyone who adores Emerson. B: And I adore anyone who adores anyone who adores Emerson, your turn!

2. Alright, yer 'fugees now. Show Syd the 'fugee face. Sad face.

3. A and B: What book? C: You have the diary in your pocket.

4. Ride now!... Ride now!... Ride! Ride to ruin and the world's ending! Death!

5. Now it isn't that I don't like you, Susan, because, after all, in moments of quiet, I'm strangely drawn toward you, but - well, there haven't been any quiet moments.

6. I am shocked, shocked to find that gambling is going on in here!

7. Life is pain, highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something.

8. Only don't tell me you're innocent. Because it insults my intelligence and makes me very angry.

9. You mean you were diagnosed with something called a brain cloud and didn't ask for a second opinion?

10. Also, Dude, chinaman is not the preferred nomenclature. Asian-American, please.

11. Hi, Peter. What's happening? We need to talk about your TPS reports.

12. I am not wasting one more minute of my life on prayer. Not one more minute. Understood?

13. And then they decide I'm supposed to get a smaller share, like I'm someone extra special stupid. Even if it is a democracy, in a democracy it don't matter how stupid you are, you still get an equal share.

14. Years ago my mother used to say to me, she'd say, "In this world, Elwood, you must be" - she always called me Elwood - "In this world, Elwood, you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant." Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant.

15. I know, I know. We are Your chosen people. But, once in a while, can't You choose someone else?

16. A: She seems to have such nicely rounded diphthongs. B: That's what got her into this jam.

17. This crown gives me a feeling of power! Power! Forgive me a cruel chuckle. Heh-heh-heh. Power . . .

18. The heads. You're looking at the heads. Sometimes he goes too far. He's the first one to admit it.

19. The line must be drawn here! This far, no further! And I will make them pay for what they've done.

20. Well, I don't want Fop, goddamn it! I'm a Dapper Dan man!

21. Now listen to me, all of you. You are all condemned men. We keep you alive to serve this ship. So row well, and live.

22. I haven't lost my temper in forty years, but pilgrim, you caused a lot of trouble this morning, might have got somebody killed. Somebody oughta belt you in the mouth. But I won't, I won't. . . The hell I won't.

23. Listen, we're a small business but we're expanding. Expanding! Just like you frogs expand. Don't you frogs expand?

24. A: Oh, no... it's just I thought you had hidden depths. B: No, no, you've always had that wrong about me. I really am this shallow.

25. His name is Robert Paulson.

26. I didn't do anything. I'm a nice man. I mind my own business. So you tell me 'that's that' before I beat the hell from you. I have so much strength in me you have no idea. I have a love in my life. It makes me stronger than anything you can imagine. I would say 'that's that', Mattress Man.

27. I am the creator . . . of a television show that gives hope and joy and inspiration to millions.

28. Look I probably should have told you this before but you see... well... insanity runs in my family... It practically gallops.

29. I'm a leaf on the wind . . .

30. I can tell you the license plate numbers of all six cars outside. I can tell you that our waitress is left-handed and the guy sitting up at the counter weighs two hundred fifteen pounds and knows how to handle himself. I know the best place to look for a gun is the cab of the gray truck outside, and at this altitude, I can run flat out for a half mile before my hands start shaking. Now why would I know that? How can I know that and not know who I am?

Ah, Wisconsin!

You may have retained Paul Bunyan's axe, but you're drinking yourself into an early grave.

So there.

Beer and Skittles

My new favorite entry in Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary. Not to be confused with skittles and combos.

I know what you're thinking.

+

???

Doesn't sound all that appealing. Beer and peanuts, definitely. Beer and peanut m&ms, ok. Beer and plain m&ms . . . well, ok, but it's a stretch. But beer and skittles?

Ah, but look at the date in Webster's: 1857. That's a good hundred-plus years before the invention of Skittles bite-sized candies. So this is what you should picture:



Now, beer definitely goes with that kind of skittles. My favorite thing about that picture is that I have partaken of both beer and skittles in that very room, at The Sheep Heid in Edinburgh. Yes, it was while I lived in studied abroad in Scotland. Yes, I am white. Why do you ask?

Your Lileks for the Day

The day was yesterday.

The evening: watched “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull,” which I’d been led to believe was disappointing. It wasn’t. I liked it just fine, even though the long chase sequence through the jungle was a bit ridiculous; the old straddling-two-fast-moving-vehicles-while-underbrush-strikes-you-in-the-goolies is a bit old, and the bit with the waterfalls patently unbelievable. They might as well have sprouted wings and flown down to the next scene.

I apologize for using HTML's blockquote there. It's ugly, but my usual trick of bumping the quote over by putting it in a table isn't working for some reason. Man, do I hate blockquote, though.

And as long as I'm kvetching, I'd like to ask the gods of the world wide web why I can't find a way to apply an XSL template to an element based on whether it has a certain attribute. It's like having a natural language where there's no combination of words that allows you to address your wife on days beginning with "T". Said the guy who's been using XML for all of three days.

Maybe Pirate Jimmy can help, and we'll rename the blog "Ask a Pirate."

Bigotry

Spent the weekend in Worthington, my hometown in southwest Minnesota. It reminded me how hilarious regional stereotypes are. Wherever you grew up, you were probably indoctrinated with the local stereotypes. There was some class of "others" who were clueless, obtuse, the butt of your jokes. It could have been the people from the next town or from across the state line. You knew it was an exaggeration, the kind of stereotype that your sixth grade teacher taught you to recognize as the root of prejudice; but everyone seemed to acknowledge the same set of stereotypes.

If you moved away from home, you discovered that in your new location, they told the same jokes, but with different people as the punchline. Thus it was that I discovered that people in the Twin Cities didn't think Iowans were stupid.

They thought Wisconsinites were stupid.

A sample of the regional bigotry I heard over the weekend:

Upon hearing that a new roundabout was planned for the junction of US-59 and MN-60, a family member remarked, "That's a horrible idea. That intersection is already clogged up with people from Iowa trying to figure out where to turn. There's no way they'll be able to figure out a roundabout."

There was no hint of irony in his assessment.

So who did people make fun of where you grew up?

(By the way, the realization hit me a few years ago that the widespread negative opinion of New Jersey probably has little to do with what it's like to actually live in New Jersey and more to do with New Yorkers broadcasting their own local bigotry from their positions of media influence.)