Any ol’ country guy or gal knows we are what we experience. Don’t need no fancy edumacashunal degrees of false wisdom to see the truth.
But what do we really experience? The MYND wants to know.
Tag Archives: business
Two overworked data points
In a recent test, my programmers created an American English speaking character on a Chinese social media site. The character commented on world news and talked about a personal life gleaned from averaging profiles of Chinese social media participants, in order to attract a certain following and sway opinions in favour of a future business deal that didn’t really exist, to see if the Chinese “friends” would suggest the business deal on their own and/or invest in the companies (the real ones) or increase searches for the companies (including fake ones mentioned by the NAmE character).
In the world of unexpected consequences, the real companies’ stock values increased significantly enough to create some relatively wealthy people in other parts of the world, thus reinforcing the valued opinions of the fake NAmE character who, in turn, said the business deal that the Chinese “friends” eventually suggested had been discovered to be a rumour the NAmE character forwarded on purpose.
The Chinese “friends” were at first offended.
However, several of them decided to play the game themselves, enlisting the fake NAmE character to create more innuendos that induce stock-price building rumours.
The groupthink intelligence spread into other social networks, so that a bunch of social friends got rich by feeding rumours for stocks that had little or no value but increased enough for the investors to use exponential investment schemes to get rich slowly enough across several stock exchanges to not attract attention.
A social science professor figured out what my programmers had done and created a superset modeling program that spread multiple versions of our fake NAmE character into social networks around the world.
Now, I’m getting rich and building an offshore bank account the old-fashioned way.
I no longer have to worry that my retirement plan will reveal the underground/illegal market slush funds I created to eventually live the life I wanted as a financially-independent, aesthetically ascetic guru.
Time to break free?
We’ll see.
While I lay dying…to tell a joke
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Flyfishing lures, too.
And gumbo soup mix with freeze-dried okra.
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@33mfl4n. NEACA craft show.
Time to find my favourite fishing spot on the shores of the Itchnbiteme River and cast my new handtied lures as an excuse to drink beer, of course.
A nod to redbox and Walmart. ATH20, aussi. Gigi’s. Jeanne and my godfather, Jim.
Marsha and Linda and their stampinup booth. Hosner Sharpening Service. My wife’s stampinup demonstrator work, without a doubt.
Lady Vols.
The Busch (not beer) brothers.
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//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//
How do you say it in this species, again?
Do you grant amnesty if a leader abdicates? Do the sins of the father (including siring children out of wedlock) pass down to the children or just the grandchildren?
How does the chain of command work?
How do you maintain a level of military-industrial complex expenditures without going broke? Where is the real profit, excluding the first profit off the R&D and the second profit off the deployment, which are essentially the hidden costs of running a dominant society?
How do I translate the exclusive love and trust of/for/by my wife into universal signals?
Life is full of missed opportunities – which ones are tests and which ones are classes you tested out of taking?
Somewhere, probably long gone, my written memories up to 1985 rotted or are rotting in a landfill.
Denise Robinson had many of the logical arguments I made in building a personal philosophy. Brenda Craig may have others.
I have most of the letters I wrote to my wife through the years (hers to me are with the writings that entered a landfill 26 years ago).
I embrace my imperfections in 2011. What else shall I do in unravelling the personal from the universal?
All seven billion of our lives are important because we are serving as nodes in a network that is calculating how to save itself from self-destruction.
I am just one of the nodes acting in my best behaviour for our sake.
My self-importance is a hindrance but every day I remove my own emperor’s new clothes to expose my inner workings and nonexceptional states of energy.
We are made of the same substances, you know.
You can be whomever you please, if you’re willing to shed the old masks and charades and start anew.
It’s only as easy or hard as you want it to be.
NAmE = North American English?
I don’t want to be extinct.
Is your family line secure?
Does clothes dryer exhaust reveal the detergent you use?
By assuming the background of this canvas is the subculture in which I live/work, I present to readers, through their interpretive experiences or experiential interpretations, the idea that this background is an acceptable form of living.
Indeed, it is.
I can get in my car, waste petrol to drive 1 mile, walk into the big box store to buy replacement halogen T-bulbs so my wife can continue her scrapbooking after I return home and replace the burned out lightbulb in the back bedroom/scrapbooking supply room, grab a George Killian’s Irish Red beer, go back to typing and keep track of Bristol racing and NCAA hooping at the same time.
If I want.
When was the last time you played cricket?
Do you have the power to create thunderstorms and waves of lightning where it is seemingly impossible?
Do you keep a salt lick in the backyard in case your freezer supply is running short and you need some more wild game meat?
Have you ever wrestled and killed a whitetail deer with your bare hands?
As a vegetarian, do you know how many animals you’ve killed with your vehicle or by vehicles driven by people who support your lifestyle? What did you and/or them do with the animals/meat?
Trying to get outside this set of states of energy to create originality is going to keep me fully occupied the rest of my life.
A nod to the guy with the Lockheed-Martin hat – I read your thoughts and they were very interesting. I assume your poker playing days are over and the mask has been put away.
My roving eyes are on the move.
Time to figure out which set of emperour’s clothes to write about.
When you know the plans you’re developing/implementing involve something vaster than and outside the realm of influence of your solar system, what does any one of us matter anymore?
I recommend you no longer read this blog, if you exist at all.
What I’m going to type about next might make your ordinary plans far less interesting than they might have been had you given them any thought.
As far as the reason for enforcing the no-fly zone? Well, the atrocities committed by Qaddafi’s family in the name of their personal megalomaniacal entertainment will be sufficiently documented in their spectacular trials before the court of the people by the people and for the people.
That’s the way it’s been and going to be.
Somebody’s always finding a way to revive the Spanish Inquisition.
Morality plays draw the biggest audiences, especially when we find ways to make them personal for everyone. Were you associated with the Qaddafi family and if so, how much?
Do they still tie handkerchiefs over faces facing firing squads?
Cue the dramatic music and teaser trailer for the upcoming persecution of corrupt members of the old Libyan regime.
I’ve ordered my front-row seat. Better hurry, executioners are promising a lot of screams and pleas for mercy.
Aah, repetition. Pro-government forces out of favour once again.
Is a rope too good for Qaddafi? I don’t see him (or his body double) hiding in an underground bunker.
You know that Hillary doesn’t negotiate, don’t you?
I hear they’re creating a new torture chamber – keel-hauling over razorbacks, it’s called.
Women in power – I told you 2010 was a good year for them. Now they’re exercising their right to excise.
And you thought your government’s debt was going to be the death of you!
Merkel, you get a back row seat this time. You had your chance and you blew it with Olde World diplomacy.
Humbled by Community after Pi Day
Another Post-Aggression Depression Post
Today, many people on this planet celebrate St. Patrick’s Day which, oddly enough, is day when drunk revellers imbibe in the name of a Catholic saint.
Are you willing to share your traditions with others who’ll shape the traditions to their whims, desires and traditions?
Hard to believe only 14,295 days are left and I want to spend this day in a cloud of oblivion, not eating, drinking or consuming more than moist air for my lungs.
Smelling the wind. Feeling vibrations in my feet.
Looking at sweetgum tree buds.
Thinking about no time in particular.
Almost not caring about the arrangements of these words sdfps8′ 3ehp4nh’N#g;p3.
What do you do with yourself in a closed-loop system?
There is a stinkbug caught between the window screen and the window, finding a crack somewhere to get in but unable to find its way back out.
There are an unnumbered number of dead insects at the bottom of the window.
Some days I feel like the stinkbug, unaware that my time spent crawling on the screen, my antennae fully aware of familiar smells/vibrations but unable to get to them, is time spent not knowing I’m not going to get out alive. Perhaps a spider hidden in a corner will find me and make use of me.
Otherwise…
Perfectly, happily, soberly aware I really know nothing.
My brain an Intel Celeron M running Microsoft Windows Vista Basic on a Compaq Presario C501NR Notebook PC, generations and magnitudes less complicated than the world’s fastest human-made supercomputer.
More than sitting on a horse and buggy counting on my fingers, in comparison, but comparison to what?
Who am I to deny any one of the seven billion of us the right to procreate?
Who am I to say billions of us will die for my benefit?
I’m not presumptuous. I’m not the wealthiest or the poorest.
A racetrack or sports arena is more familiar to me as a place of worship than a place of worship.
If more people in the U.S. watch films and shows on the tellie than go to sporting events or participate in formal religious service, what does that say about what we call religion? That is, how are we defining our definitions of morals and ethics for normal social interaction?
How does a child know the difference between fantasy and reality?
When did we start believing food comes in brightly-coloured bags and boxes, not out of farms and ranches?
When did we convince ourselves it’s all right to turn homes into chemical experiments on humans, plants, animals, insects and other living things?
What does it profit me to profit if I’m going to contract cancer from unintentional concoctions?
I’m going to die anyway, right?
Who or what entity is going to test whether the aerosols of chemical lawn fertilisers will mix with aerosols of underarm deodourant, hairspray, furniture deodouriser, kitchen surface disinfectant and cologne/perfume to create a force more invisibly deadly than anything dreamed up by military chemical warfare departments, because no one took into account the change to the microorganisms inhabiting our bodies and the poisons they’ve been, through no fault of any one person or entity, chemically genetically-modified to cover us and fill our pores with?
The Law of Unintended Consequences.
I didn’t get drunk today but, because I mentioned the phrase “St. Patrick’s Day,” someone reads these words and decides it’s okay to have one or two extra litres of beer to show he’s more manly than anyone in the room, stumbles out of the pub, trips on the curb and bangs his head, ending up in a hospital emergency room where he meets a nice nurse he decides to introduce to his forlorn son, their love convincing the father to give up drinking heavily because he can finally forgive himself for not taking good care of his wife while she was dying of cancer she got while visiting her sister’s family near a chemical waste dump they didn’t know existed behind their house that was built in the shape of a stinkbug on an idea an architect got from reading random blog entries one day.
We are an ignorant species so let’s keep looking for ways to increase our wisdom and not just our collections of esoteric information that we cleverly yell out while watching television trivia game shows.
If you knew exactly where a large chunk of galactic material was going to hit Earth’s atmosphere thousands or millions of years from now, would you figure out how to change Earth’s rotation ever so slightly to keep the resulting sonic boom and burning debris from hitting major centres of your species’ population, knowing the destruction of trillions of other microorganisms would have a small but not detrimental effect on your species thousands of years later?
How big a picture can you work with without resorting to using literary devices like magic, superpowers or time travel?
When the timescales of your species have little effect on galactic timescales at which you operate, what does one life matter?
Finding the humour in that scenario is the challenge of my lifetime.
14,295 days, as we call them, to get it right.
Two Points
- Our Body the Ecosystem: Understanding the Interplay Between Man and Microbe
- Is This a “Killer Spray” for Kitchen Microbes?
From Wikipedia:
A microbiome is the totality of microbes, their genetic elements (genomes), and environmental interactions in a defined environment. A defined environment could, for example, be the gut of a human being or a soil sample. Thus, microbiome usually includes microbiota and their complete genetic elements. The human microbiome contains over 10 times more microbes than genetically human cells.[1]
The expression “microbiome” was coined by Joshua Lederberg. In his opinion, the microorganisms should be included as part of the human genome, because of their influence on human physiology.
[1] Zimmer, Carl (13 July 2010). “How Microbes Defend and Define Us”. New York Times. http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/13/science/13micro.html?_r=2&pagewanted=all. Retrieved 17 July 2010.
Survivor: Real-Life Classroom
From my folks, both educators:
Have you heard about the next planned “Survivor” show?
Three businessmen and three businesswomen will be dropped in an elementary school classroom for 1 school year.
Every business person will be provided with a copy of his/her school district’s curriculum, and a class of 20-25 students.
Every class will have a minimum of five learning-disabled children, three with A.D.H.D., one gifted child, and two who speak limited English. Three students will be labeled with severe behavior problems.
Every business person must complete lesson plans at least 3 days in advance, with annotations for curriculum objectives and modify, organize, or create their materials accordingly. They will be required to teach students, handle misconduct, implement technology, document attendance, write referrals, correct homework, make bulletin boards, compute grades, complete report cards, document benchmarks, communicate with parents, and arrange parent conferences. They must also stand in their doorway between class changes to monitor the hallways.
In addition, they will complete fire drills, tornado drills, and [Code Red] drills for shooting attacks each month.
They must attend workshops, faculty meetings, and attend curriculum development meetings. They must also tutor students who are behind and strive to get their 2 non-English speaking children proficient enough to take the State Mandated Tests. If they are sick or having a bad day they must not let it show.
Every day they must incorporate reading, writing, math, science, and social studies into the program. They must maintain discipline and provide an educationally stimulating environment to motivate students at all times. If all students do not wish to cooperate, work, or learn, the teacher will be held responsible.
If not involved in extracurricular activities with the students (out-of-town sporting events, math tournaments, spelling bees, etc.), the business people will only have access to the public golf course on the weekends, but with their new salary, they will not be able to afford it. There will be no access to vendors who want to take them out to lunch, and lunch will be limited to thirty minutes, which is not counted as part of their work day. The business people will be permitted to use a student restroom, as long as another survival candidate can supervise their class.
If the copier is operable, they may make copies of necessary materials before, or after, school. However, they cannot surpass their monthly limit of copies. The business people must continually advance their education, at their expense, and on their own time.
The winner of this Season of Survivor will be allowed to return to his/her job.
FINIS
Ear Mail :)
Happy 2nd Anniversary, The Melting Pot of Huntsville!
A nod to Stephen Wysock at Aviagen – may you have another 10 great years with the company. Happy Birthday to your better half today.
Tonight, while enjoying the company of our server, Malarie (no, not malady or malaria, but named after the character on “Family Ties“), my wife and I observed the goings-on at the Melting Pot.
Friendly workers, seemingly happy.
The owner, Steve Hagins, and his son David in MBWA mode.
Steve’s proud (but not biased, of course) about his son’s second sense when it comes to customer service, able to detect a problem before it’s a problem and find a solution before his father knows there’s a problem.
Steve is well on his way toward handing the business over to his son in the next few years, allowing himself to take a long-term break, if not retire completely.
We remember the opening two years ago.
So does Steve.
After 19 months in preparation, working something like 125 days in a row, Steve was in automatic mode as the Melting Pot was set to open.
Realising his father was near a breaking point, David recommended he take a couple of days off.
And collapse he did.
We’ve all been there, Steve. We rarely know when we need rejuvenation until someone near and dear points it out.
We’ll be back at the Melting Pot because you put customer Numero Uno.
Speaking of customer service, I am focusing on helping another friend, Gary Shelton, and the product invention he shares with Joe McGinty over at Invetex. If you’re in the computer rack business and want a little extra security and peace of mind for your customers, give Invetex a look-see. An ounce of prevention is worth more than a pound of gold where data and cash flow is concerned.
It’s time for our annual support of UCP during An Irish Evening, hosted at the new Jackson Center. We’ll bid on some Irish gifts to share with our nephew, Jonathan, and his lovely new fiancée, Tammy, who’re planning an Irish-themed wedding soon.
‘Twill be a chilly evening tonight and I ran out of birdseed earlier this week, a mass of sparrows taking over the birdfeeders and cleaning me out. Maybe the raccoon in the attic won’t wake me up in the wee hours of the morning.
But Merlin will be at home tomorrow and the missus and I will have our two feline frolickers back under one roof again.
While the French (the French?) want to bomb Libya and the Germans (the Germans?) want to wait, there’ll peace in this household on the weekend.
Somebody tell that loudmouth at the New York Times to shut his trap so we can spread the love of franchising all over the world.
The new liberal way is to make everyone rich enough we can afford to fund our own social services or cause célèbre – no more depending on government assistance for the underprivileged, only for the companies in power, of course.
Obama tricked everyone (or was he tricked?) – now that he’s a millionaire, he’s a Republican wolf in Democratic sheep’s clothing like all the others on the list of “I’m wealthy and I’m not giving up my hard-earned cash” adherents to Reaganite Randianism – the whole healthcare/welfare thing was a typical politician’s ruse until the purse was full.
And I wonder why my presidential vote is counted but never counts…
Someone suggested we bomb an airliner over Libya and call it Lockerbie’s Revenge – be careful what you wish for ’cause I guarantee your wish will be what you want and not what you need.
If only I could tell you what you don’t really know…
The usual suspects in the lineup.
But we can still break free.
Wild beyond our wealthiest dreams!
Послушайте, пожалуйста. Вы говорите по-русски?
I was researching the construction of suspect-looking houses in my area of the country and found out that many of the building contractor names were stolen from dead people’s Social Security numbers freely available on the Internet.
Вы понимаете по-английски?
By no means does this blog entry imply who may be putting dead people’s good names to use, dubious or otherwise.
Что значит по-английски identity borrowing?
However, it is a two-way street, is it not?
До свидания.
treetrunkdings 