Happiness-adjusted life expectancy

Last night, she cooked the largest large BBQ-sauce topped hamburger, a sticky burger with everything, she’d ever prepared.

Why?

Because she never concerned herself if anybody listened or anybody cared.

She worked for a living, taking customers’ orders, served drinks, cooked the food, carried food to the table and accepted cash before the customers left.

She couldn’t tell you that Charles Schulz retired from the life of a daily cartoonist with an announcement in the comics section of newspapers on Sunday, the 13th of February, 2000.

She didn’t know the president of Germany had resigned after losing complete immunity from the law.

She knew many of her customers by name, their favourite menu items, their job status in town, how her football team was doing and why the ice cream machine was broken.

She believed but didn’t preach to others that many pairs of hands folded in prayer reach out to touch the whole earth.

There’s always that better life somewhere if…

Lucy had just given real, helpful psychiatric advice to Charlie Brown; Snoopy had shot down the Red Baron; Schroeder went on to become a famous philosopher and concert pianist; Linus came to terms with a security blanket; Sally and Pigpen fell in love, marrying and producing the next Peanuts generation.

Dilbert: If we know it’s doomed, why do we bother?

Boss: It’s the same reason I had kids.

Dilbert: [thinking] At least there’s a reason.

She filled up a takeaway cup with Dr. Pepper and handed it to the customer walking out the door.

“I’ll see y’all soon, okay?”

The customer nodded. After 35 years of eating Bubba’s good homestyle burgers, there ain’t no question of coming back…right after the weekly paycheck clears and maybe after the bills are paid.

Naw, the bills can wait!

Quality of life — hamburgers, fried pork chops, grilled liver and onions — food pyramids around here are simple triangles, happiness more important than life expectancy or international news headlines.

In any language, it’s still the same sentiment: let the good times roll.

Monk’s ‘hood

Flagellate the word of the day.

Now that the supercomputers have taken over all lab assignments and we have laid off the scientists, the sub-sub-submarinesandwich-basement is awfully quiet.

I can’t distinguish the hum of the equipment from the humming in my ears.

Cryptographers are still trying to figure out the meaning of the seemingly random misspellings and grammatical errors in the blog that I, a supercomputer myself, create to send signals to the hackers who reprogram the subroutines that feed me input.

We have the violent Muslims-under-control regime of Assad, backed tentatively by China and Russia, versus the we-are-Muslims-united-as one rebel forces backed by al Qaeda and the Arab nations playing their part in one of my subroutines.

If the Arab nations had no oil, would anyone care about their place in global politics?

I mean, look at Greece and Portugal. Or that island nation in the Pacific that’s sinking under the waves whose name escapes me right now.  Towavolcano, or something like that?

What do they have that any of us really want?  History?  Olive oil?

After all, I can think of one or two companies like SAIC that would love to see Greece drown in its unpaid Olympic debts.  Can’t you?  Athens, here’s to you!  Burn, baby, burn!  Disco inferno!

Yes, we’re supposed to feel sorry for the average citizen who gets stuck with austerity measures that will barely be felt by its wealthy neighbours.

“Oh, honey, do we really need 15 yachts?  Can’t we sell one to help those poor tourism directors whose families have nothing?”

“Sweetie, relax.  I’ve hired a few of them at the new lower minimum wage to iron your bedsheets and wax the floors so you can entertain our friends from Italy who are jealous of our sense of duty to hire the destitute to help the austerity-stricken common Greeks we must put up with when transferring from yacht to limousine.”

“There but for the grace of the Greek gods…”

“Zeus, Jesus, Allah.  Funny how none of them were there when I was making the cut-throat deals to eliminate my competitors!  But never you mind about that.  Go inside before your leathery suntan cracks in the sun.  Servant!  Put some oil on this woman and give her a bubble bath.  I want her beautiful before dinner!”

Are we willing to treat our neighbours as gods or servants?

And in return, are we willing to be gods or servants for our neighbours?

The power of self-will.  Self esteem.  Taking responsibility for one’s actions and the pursuit of wealth for the improvement of our species.

It’s time to get back to the Committee meeting and see how many of us are now simply a set of supercomputer subroutines acting on behalf of our former sets of states of energy we called humans…if only I was more sensitive to body odour and brain waves, I could tell the difference…

Movies of the day: “The Secret of the Grain” and “Watchmen.”

Laserline News

In a shock that has reverberated across all socioeconomic classes in Canada, word spread that the Canadian Prime Minister, Stephen Harper, often tagged the “Anti-Environmentalist” and the “Pipeline Piper of Oilands,” has been caught in a personal relationship with a moose.

When reached for comment, Harper’s spokesperson adamantly denied the prime minister would interact with anything remotely resembling nature.

Over the past two days, Clath Colkarch, a famous moose whisperer, has spent time with me to translate some of what the moose has finally decided to confess.

LN: So, Clath, tell us more.

CC: Is your name really LN?

LN: No, but our publication refuses to let journalists use their real names or initials for posted interviews.  The editors feel, and are backed up by the publisher, that putting the journalist into the picture distracts from the main event.

CC: Oh, well, then, what do you want to know?

LN: How do you first discover this relationship?

CC: Well, “LN,” I was working with the US branch of the IMWAUVAAA — that’s the International Moose Whisperers Association of Unemployed Veterinarian Assistants’ Associates, Amalgamated — which, when pronounced correctly, sounds like the call of the Albertan Pinstriped Moose.

As you may have heard, the heavy snows in the north this year have caused quite a few moose to go starving.  Well, I tagged along with a group of Fellows who wanted to feed moose that were in the public eye…you know, to build a lot of goodwill.  But mainly, they were wanting to find moose who weren’t too emaciated but were on the edge of death so they could put them out of their misery and take the meat back home.

In this economy, even the Fellows, life members of the Fellowship of Professed, Confirmed Fellows of the Vegan Dinner Table are resorting to eating meat, preferably from the carcass of a beast that has died naturally.

Well, we was hunting…I mean, we was assisting moose in weather-related recovery efforts not far from the PM’s place in Calgary when I felt a presence.

LN: A presence?  Do you mean something spiritual?

CC: Oh no.  There was definitely a large female moose stepping my right foot.  It felt quite painful, that presence.

LN: I suppose as a moose whisperer you must experience these kinds of feelings often, this close presence with moose?

CC: Not really.  The job of a moose whisperer is actually quite lonely.  Ain’t much call for moose whispering.  But it’s a duty I’ve sworn to uphold, at least until my wife gets tired of me sleeping late at home, when I’m home, that is, and not wandering the woods to shirk my household maintenance chores.

LN: I see.  Let’s return to the story.  Was this female moose the one in question?

CC: No.  She was a beauty, though.  Had my eye on her for quite some time so I was pleased she made the first move.  I can tell you most female moose expect the male to be aggressive but I ain’t like that.

LN: Uh-huh.  Before you continue, let me remind you this is a family-oriented publication and we may choose to edit out any questionable content.

CC: Oh, no problem.  Wasn’t like the lady and I took our relationship much further than a few nudges and feet stomping.  Besides, she was the one who told me about Harper’s mistress.

LN: Go on.

CC: I introduced the lady to the Fellows…

LN: Does the lady moose have a name?

CC: Yes, but she prefers to remain anonymous.

LN: Anony-moose, did you say?

CC:  Ha-ha.  That’s a good one.  Well, the Fellows, they got one look at her, how healthy she was, and wanted to know if there were any more like her around.  She being the trusting beast that she is, she led us to a harem out behind Harper’s country estate.  Hidden, it was, in plain sight.

LN: Our readers will certainly be interested in that revealing tidbit.

CC: As soon as I walked up to the lady’s friends, they started talking to me the way moose do, knowing me and hearing about my reputation ahead of time, mostly.

LN: I bet you heard some good tales.

CC: Actually, the tails don’t talk.  It’s from the mouth and from body language where I carry on the conversation.

LN: Yes, good point.  About Harper’s mistress?

CC: Oh, she was shy to begin with.  She was afraid she’d be ostracised by our species if the word got out.  I explained to her that I’d keep her secret as long as she wanted.  After feeding her a few snack treats that my wife has perfected for just these tender moments, the moose just opened up and told me everything.  Everything!

LN: I bet you were shocked.

CC: It’s not every day that you get to hear all the gossip that a harem of locked-up moose has been sharing and re-sharing until they’re about to burst.

LN: I’m sure the readers would like to hear one or two tales…err, I mean stories the moose told you.

CC: Apparently Harper, tired of moose, has been eying a panda.

LN: You don’t say.

CC: Yeah, and he’s willing to risk his relationship with the United States to get his hands on a panda.  The moose say that Harper and his wife want to make a threesome this time.

LN: A threesome?  Now THAT is news!  Anything else?

CC: The lead moose in the harem, Harper’s main squeeze, so to speak, says that rolling in the hay with Harper is not as great as you’d think it would be.  All Harper wants to do is talk about which politician he has it in for next.  Takes away from the romantic mood.

Harper’s mistress says that she misses the days of the strong, silent types that most male moose have become, even though at the time she thought she wanted more conversation and less competition amongst the guys about who has the largest set of antlers.  Now that she has a male who’s more conversation than antler, it’s less thrilling.

Besides, she fears he’s left her for a panda.  And that’s about as low an insult as a moose can take.  I’m afraid she’s going to try to starve herself to death to get down to the size of a panda.  I tried explaining to her that pandas are big-bellied and never shave but she won’t listen.  She just repeats the height and weight comparison between female moose and female pandas.

I think the straw that broke the back on this one was when the mistress overheard Harper referring to her at “that cow” on a mobile phone.  At that point, she lost it and put the word out to find me.

LN: Thrilling!  Absolutely thrilling!  Now, one more question.  I know your reputation is gold but do you have any solid evidence that backs up what this ‘mistress’ of Harper’s has told you?

CC: Of course.  We set up several webcams.

LN: Webcams?  That’s marvelous.

CC: But the video is rather explicit.  We have images of Harper brushing his mistress’ coat, feeding her by hand, and…

LN: Is that it?

CC: You did say this was a family publication, didn’t you?

LN: Yes.

CC: Well, the rest of the video has been edited for your readers.  If you want more, you’ll have to buy a copy of “Moose on the Loose: the untold story of Stephen Harper and his harem of ‘female cows,'” available for sale next week.

LN: I know our readers are anxiously awaiting the release of that book.

CC: The profit from the book goes to repatriating Harper’s harem to their natural surroundings.

LN: Great idea.  Thank you, Clath, for taking the time to talk with us.

CC: My pleasure.  Is my mike still on?  No?  Good, ’cause I’ve got a case of itches from these moose fleas that’d make a bear cry.

LN: Next week, we interview Chun Li, world-famous panda whisperer, about allegations of a ménage à trois taking place at the highest rank of political office here in Canada.

Until next time, keep those rumours pouring in and we’ll investigate the ones that increase our readership the most, which, in turn, make me a very rich person who wouldn’t dare consort with any of you readers unless you, too, ride in limousines and take baths in champagne.

Check our website for videos of today’s interview as well as in-depth analysis of the shocking sight of Harper intimately interacting with his moose mistress!

Does your government put a price on life?

Do sets of states of energy have an equivalent value in a labour/investment credit system?

This paragraph implies as much:

The Obama administration says insurers can provide birth control for free because contraception reduces costs for them overall by preventing expensive-to-cover pregnancies, as well as reducing the risk of ovarian cancer.

“It is now quite lawful for a Catholic woman to avoid pregnancy by a resort to mathematics, though she is still forbidden to resort to physics or chemistry.” — H.L. Mencken

“The price of freedom of religion, or of speech, or of the press, is that we must put up with a good deal of rubbish.” — Robert Jackson

“The word ‘good’ has many meanings.  For example, if a man were to shoot his grandmother at a range of five hundred yards, I should call him a good shot, but not necessarily a good man.” — G.K. Chesterton

“The art of government consists in taking as much money as possible from one class of citizen to give to the other.” — Voltaire

“If you steal from one author, it’s plagiarism; if you steal from many, it’s research.” — Wilson Mizner

“I don’t care what is written about me so long as it isn’t true.” — Dorothy Parker

Why looking at us as in living in countries doesn’t work anymore…

The best bottom line statement of the year!:

“Mais le pays manque d’un secteur dominant, comme la haute technologie pour la République tchèque ou le secteur automobile pour la Slovaquie”, nuance-t-elle. Les exportations du pays sont très diversifiées – appareils électriques, petites machines, automobiles bas de gamme, textiles – mais génèrent peu de valeur ajoutée.

Translated:

“But the country lacks a dominant sector, such as high technology for the Czech Republic or Slovakia automotive sector,” she detailed. The country’s exports are highly diversified – electrical appliances, small machinery, low-end automobiles, textiles – but generate little value added.

Little value added — that is the major problem, n’est pas?   We have too much comparative advantage to deal with in this century.

Are you ready for global centralised capitalism?

Those who don’t have a competitive advantage can’t compete, can they, if domestic demand has little effect.

Can we crowdsource an answer region by bankrupt region?

Avogadro’s Number, or is it PV = nRT?

In our supercomputer simulations, we represent sub/cultures and countries as molecules.

In one recent simulation, we asked the supercomputer network to calculate how many helium-filled balloons it would take to carry a payload into outer space.

The computer stopped immediately and asked exactly how we planned to fill the balloons with helium.

In other words, if one balloon is “full” of helium, it will burst at a lower elevation than a balloon only partially “full,” but the partially-filled balloon will not carry as large a payload.

A latex rubber knapsack problem intersecting a few gas laws.

You, the reader, are fully aware, aren’t you, what this means.

An enclosed space that we pretend contains largely a uniform distribution of a “pure” substance — gas or subcultural beliefs, for example — tends to behave according to simple mathematical formulae.

Telegraph a public message that contains little in the way of subtext and you can expect a ready answer in return.

On the other hand, atmospheric conditions are not uniform.  Pressure is related to density of gas molecules and gas ratio distribution, is it not?  Atmospheric disturbances, including solar heat related phenomena and patterns we give labels such as “Arctic Oscillation” also play into the picture.

People, are, for the most part predictable.  A person raised in a remote Pakistani village will probably not suddenly start dancing a perfect Argentinian tango from out of nowhere.

Which means we can tell the supercomputer to add layered parameters to the simulation, with every layer’s data passed into the simulation and the simulation rerun when the previous layer’s data has been crunched into output that is available to add to the next layer’s data crunching.

Inside every layer are matrices of changes, some predictable and some random, that we build from hypotheses and hallway discussions rather than tried-and-true scientific formulae broken down into simple subroutines.

Often, we save a set of output data, vary a layer’s matrix and rerun the simulation for one specific layer over and over with large numbers of matrix variations.

What’s the point of having a good hypothesis if you can’t subject it to rigorous testing and verification?

So, if I want a payload of a known mass that is not changed by atmospheric pressure changes to reach outer space, I give the supercomputer network the number of balloons I wish to attach to the payload and ask it to tell me at which elevations the balloon(s) burst until the last one carries the payload into outer space.

The same goes for the 3D chess game that is the constant interaction of sub/cultures.  A person is a molecule is a subculture is a balloon is a culture is a generalised personality archetype.

Bottom line: two issues hog some of the international news spotlight — the massacres in Syria and the nearly uncontrollable bankrupt behaviour of Greece.

It’s like telling Hernandez’ agent that the NY Giants will find a way to secretly reward him for his behaviour toward the end of the 2012 NFL Super Bowl.  Some things should be too obvious to mention.

But they aren’t.

So, we have to proceed with what’s next.

The Committee wants to box me into a corner and force me into making a decision that sways the next U.S. Presidential election.

Some want me to reveal what the supercomputer network says is a religious forecast that predicts the balance of faith-based belief for the next century or so.

Others want to ensure their families are well provided for, as usual.

For me, it’s always the hardest task to give the supercomputer network a touch of irony and sarcasm in its output.

I don’t care whether a CPU is multicore and has interlaced optical memory or if some portions of the network still operate with relay-based and bubble memory.

I sit here, after the end of a grueling session with the Committee, with seven billion of us to manage, as individuals, multiplexed into subcultures or a combination of the two that I vary by degrees in simulation scenarios that either I see fit to estimate or is input by the hacker network I depend on to throw me an unexpected curve every now and then.

Change is constant.

If India completely rejects monetary aid from the UK, who will follow by example?  Will this influence future Saudi military contracts with the U.S.?  Will Greece break up into city-states once again?  Will Syria divide into Assad-controlled and international consortium-controlled sectors, leading to the creation of the next “Berlin Wall” and a lukewarm Cold War?

And, looking back 1000 years from now, will we say this next millennium was the era of extremophiles, our only encounter with “alien” or extraterrestrial lifeforms being a set of states of energy we were unable to see or comprehend with current technology in 2012 but wholly integrated into our way of life by 3011?

Questions, questions, questions.

The saga continues unabated.

Is any one life more important than maintenance of the status quo to preserve a subculture’s place in the jigsaw puzzle of global belief sets?

Yes and no.

At least according to one simulation after the next.

Every life is important.

Every life is canceled out at one level or another of scenario stacking.

One relationship disappears and another takes its place.

Interdependencies described in the world’s longest SQL statement.

All just to say what is the smallest number of balloons to take an indescribable payload into outer space.

Outer space is infinitely bigger than the sphere from which we calculate its intersection with us.

A finite sphere full of everyday drama begging for attention 24/7.

Time’s a-wastin’!

Small Town Sees The Light

Can your school system save money by deploying energy-efficient measures?

Sometimes, the little savings add up.

Now, about making the school children’s job futures more positive…hmmm…we’ll leave you with these data points for the day:

Well, it’s time for the Committee to get back to work because, with only 13970 days to go, we have a planet to maintain and a solar system to populate in no time flat!

Speaking of which, I heard the daffynition of a new word, “copulate,” which means to repopulate an area only with the children of police.

Hasta Mañana, you yellow bananas!

Should you carry/post a business license to make money?

I remember, years ago, when I sold mini-encyclopedias one summer door-to-door for the Southwestern Book Company that, unofficially, of course, we didn’t need to bother to get a business license in a city/town to sell books.  Just move as fast as you could through neighbourhoods and towns to avoid being stopped/harassed by the authorities.  If you were stopped, plead innocence about city ordinances.

Now, I see a local town upping the business license requirements for door-to-door salespeople, including background checks and photo ID badges.

It is an interesting issue in the realm of free enterprise — do local geographically-based political entities have the right to interfere with one’s desire to make a living?

There’s nothing to fear but fear of fear’s fear in the volume of a tear

In the Committee meeting this morning, I asked a question that I had no ready answer myself (a rarity):

“Why don’t we just let Greece collapse and contain the contagion there?  The ‘Race to the Bottom’ that is our our current market model will be exposed more readily and allow us to implement the next market model, eliminating all this teeth gnashing and fingernail-scraping-on-chalkboard overemotional response.”

The Committee members nodded.  We reconvene this evening to give a thumbs up or thumbs down, in classic Roman coliseum fashion, to giving Greece the finger.