Bonus! The meaning of March.

April 2

The difference between soap and soup is ‘u.’

Long before the National Weather Service issued its pollen alert, my nose told me. As I sniffled and sniveled, waiting for the antihistamine to kick in, I began to wonder if we as a species have always had this much of a problem.

I’m guessing not. Imagine if you will our stone age ancestors out on the hunt. If one or more members of the party are sneezing up a storm, do you think the prey is going to stick around? How do you line up a spear shot through watering eyes?

And while on the topic, what did our ancient forebears use to wipe their noses, since the trees hadn’t leafed out yet? Or did the development of tissue paper occur much earlier than we originally estimated? I can see it now. The shamans have just finished dedicating Göbekli Tepe (also delivered way ahead of schedule), and one of them sneezes and says, ‘does anybody have something I can use to wipe my nose?’ and two engineers say ‘on it!’ and rush off to invent soft-yet-strong nosewipes.

Reflections on April Fools Day.

Mostly, I’m reflecting on yesterday, during which nothing happened, or at least anything out of the ordinary, at least around here. The few attempts at foolery I heard about were lame. Outside my world, the few attempts fell flat. Even Google gave up on April Fools hijinks.

I’m not sure if that’s a bad thing. Times and needs change. Maybe we don’t need just one day to disrupt the world, when normal operations on all 365 days seem to be doing a pretty good job of mucking things up.

Life lesson.

Alysa Liu retired from competitive figure skating when she was 16. She recently unretired and won the world championship last weekend, the first American woman to do so since 2006.

The difference? Skating had become fun again. Alysa had simply erased the pressure of being ‘the best’ and the weight of expectations. The change in attitude was visible in her skating. She was relaxed, unlike the other skaters, who had let the pressure and the setting get to them.

I think we can see this in other, bigger than big figures. I think of Steph Curry and LeBron James, who are both having fun. They still have goals, I am sure, but approach the game with joy. I have no proof, but I think Warren Buffet is having fun.

I also think of Ben and Erin in Home Town Takeover, in Sebring, Florida, where they helped a young couple open a second, downtown location of their Cuban restaurant. Unlike their usual sunny, pleasant, low key dispositions, they kept hammering away on how important the success of this restaurant was to the future of Sebring’s downtown, if not Sebring itself. No pressure there.

Be interesting to see in a year or so how the restaurant–and the couple–are doing once Ben and Erin have gone home.

Shocked, I say. Shocked!

AI chatbots unable to accurately summarise news, BBC finds.

No! Wait, that title should be ‘No, not really shocked at all.’

Not even surprised.

For another take, see Rosebud Ben-Oni’s Poet wrestling with {Artificial} Intelligence.

From Prester John to Kubla Khan.

There were poets in 19th Century America not named Poe, Whitman, or Dickinson.

I mention this because I just read a poem by one of the ‘other’ 19th Century poets.

I mention this because it’s from this poem that I lifted the title, strictly because it’s fun to say. I know Kubla Khan, but Prester John I ‘know’ only in the sense that I had heard the name at some point. So off to Wikipedia I go. Turns out he was the mythological ruler of a mythological Christian kingdom in the Far East in the middle of the second millennium.

Still, knowing that is some help in decoding the poem. Two notes. One: the poem is depressing. Two: ‘prester’ is not recognized by third millennium spell checkers. Actually, neither is Kubla. I guess it’s no longer among the 100 most popular baby names for 2024.

Freshness guaranteed?

MSN: US to import millions of eggs from Turkey and South Korea to ease prices.

Do these countries have warehouses of eggs just lying around? Or herds of hens just waiting to be put into service? Will there be a tariff?


Today’s earworm.

Paperback Writer

Lennon & McCartney

New thing.

While driving to someplace I don’t normally go, I was stopped at a light. That gave me time to read a sign provided by the City of Norfolk. It read: For safety: Lock car. Take keys. Remove valuables. I’m not going to quibble about the order of the items even though they aren’t in a logical order. But…

I have never seen a sign like this before. There are none in my neighborhood. Are there more car break ins where the sign is? Is the city going to give us signs soon? Or are the people in this area particularly obtuse?

I think something Sheldon Cooper said may apply here: Your telling me to be careful is not going to make me be more careful. Same thing with the sign. Read. Forget. Leave keys and valuables in unlocked car.

Always true.

Robert Sullivan, in the New Yorker: The film [Kneecap] blends fact and fiction, though some of the most unbelievable parts are true.

Bringing to mind Mark Twain, who provides an explanation: Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities. Truth isn’t.

Different times.

Malcolm Gladwell, writing about attitudes towards art in 19th Century Paris: Those [paintings] accepted [for the Salon] would be hung on the walls of the Palais, and over the course of six weeks… as many as a million people would throng the exhibition, jostling for position in front of the biggest and best known artists’ works and jeering at the works they did not like.

I can’t imagine anyone jeering in a contemporary art museum, which sport a quiet matched only in an empty cathedral, a funeral home, or at a poetry reading.

People were strange then. Riots were known to break out at operas, for example. I don’t know what happened to change things, but I suspect it might have something to do with the separation of artistic, creative expression (in all forms) into ‘art’ and ‘entertainment.’ Art gets reverence. Entertainment gets response.

Unpopular opinion.

Whilst cruising through a WSJ magazine, I came to the belief that models are paid to look slightly asthmatic, uncomfortable"and/or kind of stupid. Probably explains why they’re never smiling.


W.o.W.

rambunctious


Headlines we'll never see.

Apple denies next iPhone will be size of helicopter landing pad.

from (Poet)


Saturday Morning Poems

the gentle rain
that falleth upon
the parched blooms,
providing blessed succor 
and needed nourishment
also falleth upon
the morning newspaper,
rendering it unreadable,
a sodden mass
seeking to return
to its wood-pulp roots.


A show from last night,
still rattling around in my brain, 
showed archeologists,
standing among the excavated ruins
of a previously unknown civilization
of unexpected size age sophistication,
sheepishly admit they may have been 
wrong
about the capabilities 
of people 10,000 years ago.
The archeologists don't know how or why
the people built what they did,
but build it they did.
We need more honesty and humility
like this
from our archeologists.


I swear--
someone signed me up
for some cockamamie
'risk of the day' club,
thinking it would amuse me, 
or see it 
as an opportunity
to adventure,
to rush the adrenaline.
Getting up in the morning
is enough risk.
 

Quotation(s)

It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it
and remove all doubt.

-Mark Twain

It’s not that I’m so smart, it’s just that I stay with problems longer.

-Albert Einstein

 

Bonus!!! unscientific research.


The meaning of March.

Way back at the beginning of the month of March, I posted this:

It’s March. Is that supposed to mean something?

It was a good question then, and it’s stayed a good question. So I’ve been checking right along to see if, in fact, it means something.

Some context: I was engaged in a back and forth with my friend Suzanne about how time works, which started with her blog posting. So that’s going to color at least some of this piece. But the question of time is an old brainworm for me, even if mostly benign.

For the transition from February, March decided to use the ‘stalking lion’ approach. The first, was seamless– when the clock and calendar ticked over from February into March, I didn’t even notice. But then, day two roared in regal strength, with bitter winds and freezing temperatures. The rollercoaster weather continues. I seem to have carried all the same emotional baggage over, the same assorted vaguely irritating aches and pains, the same passions and desires, the same habits and activities, and most of the same list of really should do’s.

March is named after the Roman God of War Mars (born Ares). we didn't have any new wars break out, at least on the scale of, oh, say, the Trojan Wars, the Gallic Wars, the Hundred Years War, or World War I. Nowadays we have skirmishes, guerrilla actions, electronic attacks and wars of words and ideas. So business as usual on the war front.

This year, Mardi Gras and Ash Wednesday bumped into March, with no ill effects except to some revelers in party towns.

More damage was caused on March 9 with the start of Daylight Saving Time. where we save an hour that we have to give back in November. Unfortunately, we save it, but it doesn’t generate interest. This is one of the only two times of the year you will hear the phrase ‘circadian rhythm’ used.

Daffodils came and went. Some other brave flowers, like irises, joined them.

As usual, the middle of the month featured the Ides of March, which pretty much everybody ignores, St. Patrick’s Day, which features scary things dressed in green (we’re looking at you, leprechauns and beer), and the start of spring on March 20.

The transition was uneventful.

The end of the month was the same as earlier, on the roller coaster, except the track was slowly raised into the tolerable temperature range. The lamb-lion promise? Well, the 31st was nice enough, but we had a storm at night. So I guess we're 'in like a lion, out like a lion,' except we all know 'the lion sleeps at night,' so maybe we escaped.

All of this has been very nice, but we still haven’t uncovered the true meaning of March. Even though spring starts in March, nobody really believes it. We know what purpose March serves—it keeps April from bumping into February. But meaning?

Devin Kelly notes March [is] a month of attrition and uncertainty. That might get us closer. It’s a time that unbalances us, when we spend our time trying for balance, juggling our roles, striving for happiness but finding little comfort or support in our environment. The best we can do maybe is just remind ourselves that it’s the month for inhaling. Deeply–the kind of breath you take when you’re facing a challenge, need to steady your nerves, need to give yourself. courage.

Maybe it’s just a reminder that not everything has to be filled with activity, has to mean something, be important. Maybe March is just a sign that it’s not only OK to to chill, but sometimes it’s necessary, to have a low pressure place to gently prepare for change.

I’m going to suggest that some things, like March, don’t have to have a meaning. Maybe March is just a place where hope begins its transition to faith, a John the Baptist proclaiming the coming, baseball will be played again, the earth will warm, the sun climb ever higher, flowers will bloom, and people will fall in love.

Or something like that.

 

Last Week

Losing the war against inanimate objects since 1979.

March 26

To be perfectly clear.

National Weather Service style: The quantity of pollen grains in the air for Wednesday will remain relatively stable in the very high range. No change doesn’t mean no pollen, it just means that pollen producing plants are delivering pollen at a steady pace.

So confusing.

There’s a new TV show called Lost Monster Files. Three words, so many questions.

  • How long have monsters been keeping files?
  • Were these card files, paper files, or has everything been moved to the cloud?
  • What kinds of information do monsters have to keep, anyway?
  • How did the monsters lose the files, anyway? Theft? Deterioration? Sloppiness? Fire? All at once, or over a period of time?
  • Or does ‘lost’ modify monster and not files, that is we have the files but no monster?
  • Are these all now cold case files, or are there any ongoing investigations? And who will be responsible for maintaining the files, including storage fees, while the monsters are missing?

O.G. Streaming.

Unless something intrudes, mornings are spent reading and writing, listening to the radio, and making sure Belle the Collaborator Cat has a comfortable lap to nap in.

I mention this because of a post by Jeff Goins about coming off sabbatical (a month-long holiday or break).

At one point, Jeff mentions listening to records as part of his calming routine. Although I generally like the old school nature of things, having to get up and flip a record every twenty minutes or so harshes the mellow.

Instead, we listen to the radio. It plays music of a type that we like (classical), and while there are a suitable number of recognizable songs (5th Symphony or Bolero, anyone?), there are a number of pleasant surprises as well, and of course ‘melodies’ that reinforce our beliefs of what is not good or likable (is it too late to get some professional help for John Cage?).

While listening, I wondered if radio is really the original gangster music streaming service. Are we really ahead of the ‘early adopter’ music scene?

About those radio streams.

or, creepy realizations.

There are just under 90 broadcast radio stations in the Hampton Roads area where I live. talk. hip hop. sports. smooth jazz. rock. country. religious. Even though we only listen to two or three, all those other stations cheerfully continue broadcasting, sending their signals everywhere, including not only into radio receivers but also all through me.

Very unnerving, thinking about all those jazz solos and gospel chairs coursing all through my body. I’m most creeped out by the thought of all those obnoxious, angry talk show hosts and rappers bouncing anger and hate into my systems.

Also John Cage.

Now I have a new worry. What if all those waves are sending tiny tendrils drilling deep into my DNA, the very essence and substance of my being? Something that sets my nerve endings to jangling and my teeth to chattering. I don’t know about the DNA, but definitely collateral damage elsewhere.


Today’s earworm.

(Theme from) The Monkees

So tired and over it.

I am over buying fruits and vegetables that are rotting from the inside. First it was apples; then potatoes, now pears. Not nice, vegetable people.

Two notes on A.I.

I know I promised no more, but…
Note 1:
Recently Chinese software engineers announced they had developed an artificial intelligence engine for less money and with fewer people than their Western ‘competitors like OpenAI.
OpenAI founder Sam Altman declared that the Chinese had built their program on OpenAI, effectively ‘stealing’ it.
Which is rich, considering OpenAI was developed by ‘scraping’ (i.e., stealing) billions of sentences and pictures from the internet and web, much of it copyrighted.
Note 2:
One of the concerns people have is that AI will kill artistic forms of expression. I doubt it. Being creative is built into our systems.
History confirms this. Photography didn’t kill painting. Movies didn’t kill theater. And on and on.

Young felons?

From the MSN: Thousands of baby turtles released in Brazil.

I wonder what they did to be incarcerated at such a young age.

Was that an affirmative ‘moo?’

So much cattle news, coming so fast and furiously. From the BBC: Cow researchers find meanings behind moos.

The scientists are not quite content with this startling revelation, but also, according to The A Register, In a major breakthrough in bovine linguistic research, experts have confirmed that cows moo with accents distinct to their herd.

Frankly, I did not even know of the existence of the field of ‘bovine linguistic research.’ Yeah, I knew that scholars had done some translations of the musings of Elsie, but I was not aware that research had progressed this far (actually, had progressed at all).

I’m sure it’s only a matter of time and additional research before we see classes in beginning and intermediate Cow on forward-looking university course listings.

Welcome back, Popular Mechanics!

It’s been a while since we’ve heard from Popular Mechanics, but it appears the gang of lovable rogues just took a break to readjust their tinfoil hats. It was worth the wait, as they now tell us Aliens Are Breaking the Laws of Physics to Visit Us on Earth, New Theory Claims.

I gotta ask: Aliens, are we really that interesting that we’re worth your getting a ticket or two from the physics police? Those fines are brutal!

Those of you who are old enough to remember when magazines were printed on paper will no doubt remember Popular Mechanics was the mag responsible for stories claiming we were all going to be living in floating cities and owning personal helicopters by now. Maybe those stories were based on the same scientific rigor and peerless prognosticating as their current crop of breathless journalism seems to be.

Although to be fair, the Popular Mechanics stuff is no more banana-wacky than some more mainstream theories like black holes and dark matter.