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TORTU 821x513

 

Drawing by Carolyn Milliken

 

For the past several weeks my master here at The Tortoise Factor has undergone successful hip surgery.  I’ve had to secretly fill in for him.  The operation went as well as the dual knee replacement of several years ago. The hip joint like the buns that surround it, unlike the leaner neighborhood of the the knees, is harder to access and less painful in the end because of all the muscle in those climes.  So, according to Master, the knee trip was briefer but a little more  painful. The hip job just takes longer.  He took very few pain pills and Tylenol did the job.  Three days max in the hospital.

Although the tortoise has a hip, it has to have industrial strength due the long life of tortoises — sometimes over 100 years.  Then, too, I don’t suppose we tortoises subject our bodies to the risks of strenuous, unnatural feats of athletic prowess.  We sleep a lot in winter, too.  We don’t mow the lawn and experience a lot of rotation at the end of each cut.  We don’t bowl and crouch either. I can’t ride a bicycle as Master does.  I don’t know whether pumping uphill does good or bad for the hips.  Mostly I think Master just sat on his can too much and didn’t work out the arthritis, but I’m only a tortoise not a doctor.  Master is a bookworm.  He told me he’s going to look into one of those new desks with the elevator(crank or electric) that enables a sedentary man to at least stand at his computer.

Master didn’t want to write this article, because “There’s nothing more boring than an old fart rambling about aches, pains and travails of infirmity and inconvenience.”  Master was lucky to have those cheerful nurses and a long suffering wife stepping and fetching for him now for weeks.  By the way he says that tool called a reacher was a blessing as a man isn’t able to bend or allowed to bend more than 90 degrees).  It’s a wonderful tool.  Unlike the plastic urinal and the horrible surgical stockings, Master will keep the reacher  — but I wish he’d quit teasing me and the dogs with it.  Well, he feels good anyway, snapping away at all of us with his reacher.

While he was pretty diligent about his therapy, he groused a lot, especially at the leg lifts,  bridges and crotch crunchers.  He was great at wiggling his toes.  The walker made him feel really elderly and just as clanky as the device itself.  When cane time came, he was surprised at the challenging art of using a cane.  If you ever have to use one, remember to put it on the side opposite the injury  — seems strange but it works.  Master has trouble remembering this.  Truly he found caning as troubling  as walking and chewing gum at the same time.  Regardless of using a cane or  walker, a man has to look out for sleeping dogs and cats.  After surgery it’s all about balance and minute caution.  Oh, and Miller High Life. That rule he broke.

With the blessings of God, medical technology, a great wife, Medicare, books and the company of terriers and Toby. Master is very happy and thankful.  Oh, one last caveat, if you buy ankle weights add them VERY slowly.  A success with an effective half pound weight is no invitation to add five too soon. Easy does it. This is tortoise wisdom at its best: incremental, careful exertions.  Let the hare get the shin splints.

Steadfast and cautious,

C. Tobin Tortoise

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Corn_TheresaLWysocki-600x415

 

A Missouri cornfield. Photo credit: Theresa L. Wysocki

“While not every American feels the direct effects of the drought, we will all eventually feel it in our pocketbooks when food prices rise.  As much of the U.S. faces a future of perpetual drought, we all need to understand the true value of water and conserve it. Here are 100 ways.For more information about the drought, including up-to-date conditions, forecasting and how to prepare for drought, visit the U.S. Drought Portal  . . . ”    More

via Preparing for a Future of Perpetual Drought – State of the Planet.

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When I think of gun culture in America, I spin off to the Wild West and that makes me think of the book(1949) and movie called “Shane”(1953). Book and film merge in my mind.  Shane can only look like Alan Ladd.  Shane is the laconic, reluctant gunfighter,  a man with shadows living in the shadows of silence.  In the book he doesn’t even tote a gun until after the real danger has arrived. One feels this kind, dangerous man wants to retreat from some earlier, deep melancholy of his own. He’s trapped in his past.  ”A man is what he is,”  Shane says to Joey(the little boy played by Brandon DeWilde), ” and there’s no breaking the mold.  I tried that and I’ve lost.” *

 

And in the uncivilized West, Wyoming Territory in particular, self and home defense were absolute necessities.  The Joe Starrett (Van Heflin) family, homesteaders, live out on the plains, a hundred miles from a sheriff.  And while the Indian threat doesn’t seem to be serious in this story, a farmer still needs firearms for hunting, varmint control and self-preservation in an essentially lawless land.  The looming threat here is Ryker and his hired cowboys.  Ryker is acattleman who wants to rid the range of sod busters so he can create his cattle empire.  Sooner or later fear will becomes palpablel in the person of the gunfighter, Jack Wilson. No one could play stark evil better than Jack Palance.

 

In the book the first suggestion of guns appears when Joey Starrett starts to help Shane stow his gear.  Shane quickly relieves the boy of his saddle roll in which  Shane’s grand, single action Colt is wrapped. And later when Joey is playing with an old broken down Colt, Shane says, “Listen, Joey, a gun is just a tool.  No better and no worse than any other tool, a shovel — or an axe or a saddle or a stove or anything. Think of it always that way.  A man is as good and as bad as the man who carries it.”  Of course, Shane has become an awesome model for Joey.

 

Shane the reluctant, anti-hero boasts only once when he wants to dissuade Joe Starrett from taking on the gunfighter Wilson.  Shane’s gun is a fact of life and an icon of Shane’s very being — but nothing to be worshiped.  In the end after Shane triumphs  he refers to the gun he has just used as a “good tool.” Here is the epitome of a good man with a gun.  He is not a paranoid or a romantic avenger.  Good Shane’s gun is a good tool — like the axes he and Joe Starrett use to passionately remove an old tree stump and like the stove Marian Starret(Jean Arthur) uses to bake her apple pie — especially after the failure of her first effort. In some ways the stove is a very effective weapon against rampant testosterone in the Starrett home.  We all have good tools.

 

Having viewed the film many times, I’ve finally read the book. Until recently I did not  know the film was based on Jack Shaefer’s novel.  Anyone who enjoys the film, should read the novel. Neither is better than the other.   They are different and both are superb, simple, classical works.  If I needed a good man with a gun, it would be Shane.  I would want him to come back and ride by my side.  Violence in “Shane” amounts to verbal bullying, fist fighting and one final gun duel.  Good wins. Bad loses. Bullying gets its comeuppance.  And yet, Shane, expert gunfighter himself, projects a grim outlook on violence.  The justness of his cause cannot be denied. Rancher and gunfighter deserved their fates.

 
But this is art and a far cry from some stupid, raging domestic shooting in a kitchen between feuding spouses. It has nothing to do with a gun left carelessly within reach of a child.  I can’t imagine Shane using his gun under the influence of anything but his skill, principle and will. Shane’s gun is not an indispensable extension of his ego. In fact Shane would forsake gun fighting if he could. A gun in “Shane” has noble use.  At the same time there’s reality in the despicable meanness, ambition and greed that threatens a prairie village.  Only a gun can clean it up.
* I refer to the book and use quotations  from it.

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One of us fled. The rest of us hung around hoping the screamer would just leave.  He scared us all.  And the front desk attendant came around quickly and said we might consider sending a complaint to the gym director.

I’d heard about the guy who wasn’t quite right, but until yesterday I had not experienced him. He’s short, stocky and wiry — a veteran of the gym.  You could tell it. He was silent, a man of cynical grin. Yesterday before he mounted the tread mill, he sauntered around coughing and hacking.  Once on the mill the coughing and hacking grew worse.  He never covered his mouth. I wanted to present his macho with a paper towel but was apprehensive about such a confrontation — such was my fear. Because he was downwind in the draft of the big circulation fan, I tolerated his respiratory eruptions, but contamination and contagion did occur to me at the same time  I wanted my own workout.  The coughing and hacking grew worse, more violent, and then they subsided, became intermittent and eventually paused.  But then it all resumed.  Still no sign of a courteous hankie.

Finally, the man switched from treadmill to the leg extension machine.  He  carefully folded and placed his sweaty towel on the back of the seat.  The coughing and hacking returned.  I swapped the bicycle for another machine.  I was working on arm muscles when the primal, piercing scream permeating the entire room squelched the sounds of television, fans and other   machines. It sounded like a sustained karate yell only prolonged, anguished, ferocious.  The scream stopped, started and returned again.  One woman left the gym and did not return.  Just as I was about to flee myself  the screamer left, went into another room, uttered his barbaric, clarion banshee call and left.

Someone, an  amateur psychologist among us who had heard it all before said, “He has issues.”

“He’s a nut case,” I said, “like the guy who blew away 26 people in Connecticut.”

“That guy was paranoid and schizophrenic.”

“Oh, that really makes me feel better. Issues do become problems.  He’s still a nut case.”

The three of us remaining in the gym finished our routines as quickly as possible.  I wondered why I hadn’t fled with the first woman.  I half-expected The Screamer to return with an assault rifle.

Being the last one to leave the gym, as I departed it was the first time in my life that the conceal carry law appealed to me, but I won’t tote a six shooter and yes, I’ll go back to the gym, counting on the odds.

 

David Milliken

 

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In a genuine effort to be more objective I actually viewed a Glenn Beck(GB) piece on Edward Bernays(The Engineereing of Consent).  As a sometime student of Bernays,  Beck, aroused my curiosity.  I found his factual discussion of Bernays, the reputed father of PR, quite accurate.  Whether or not  Bernays was the sole cause of female smoking, I do not know.  I am a little skeptical, too, that Bernays invented bacon and eggs for breakfast as the result of his PR campaign for a bacon company. I think the English have been eating meat for breakfast for quite awhile.

The tenuous use of analogy as logical argument is again proved when GB claims that Obamacare  amounts to a grand, Bernaysian conspiracy to engineer consent of the public.  Certainly the human desire for “security” which GB points out is one of the passionate drivers of human behavior — like sex and aggression.  I assume that the same drive also sends people to Blue Cross, Blue Shield and United Health Care. And, if Romney wins, to Vouchercare.

The choice of health insurance has everything to do with necessity and cost and therefore falls in the area of neoclassic economics of good old profit and loss which I assume GB feels is under attack by the behaviorists, paternalists and keepers of the nanny state. Most of us try to be logical about the purchase of coverage.  We do not buy an insurance policy because some bikini-clad babe or muscle-bound hunk turns us on.  Sex doesn’t sell health care; Cialis sure, but health care,  no.

Isn’t it possible that the behaviorist school of economists at the University of Chicago simply evolved from the death of Milton Friedman’s supply side school.  Time to move on and find out what truly lies behind our new structural economic problems — because a lot of old times ain’t comin’ back.  Truth is, no one knows what the next  economy is — for sure.

Steadfast and cautious,

David Milliken, thetortoisefactor.com

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A blog viewer has asked about the narrative effect of this story.   In this fable the narrator lets behavior speak for itself as in most fables.  Of course, the fabulist has picked the matter, action and consequences. He obviously knows his human nature.  Human beings will say and do what is necessary to survive as do animals ; but  natural reactions, especially perverse ones, often turn against us (fate?). The tortoise’s anger at the jeering crowd trumps the better nature of enduring patience and keeping one’s mouth shut.  Who knows whether the tortoise had a better nature which he ignored or was she totally incapable of keeping her mouth shut.  As a result he failed to live another day. He had to yell at the mocking crowd.

The effect for me is a sense of  tragedy.  The fabulist manages to create much sadness and empathy for the flawed  tortoise.  If we do not do what we would and should do, we suffer consequences.  Death makes the effect intensely powerful. There is also a clear statement that help in this world is available if we want to commit to it (the geese).  A child, of course, will feel sorry for the tortoise, perhaps hear a truth about living and perseverance, but most likely will only be lucky if he or she carries the lesson into adulthood.

Steadfast and cautious,

David Milliken

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Tortoise in this election year has been thinking about free enterprise, socialism and benevolence. Benevolence means the wish as a human being to act with good will. In boning up on Adam Smith, D. Taylor Tortoise has concluded that the economist, though religious, did not particularly see human beings as benevolent. Laissez-faire or “let alone” describes his economic attitude far more accurately than “do good” in matters of livelihood and survival. For example, Adam Smith said, “I have never known much good done by those who affected to trade for the public good. It is an affectation, indeed, not very common among merchants, and very few words need be employed in dissuading them from it.”

Men and women perform their best by simply satisfying their self-interest by making a profit. In the end personal gain benefits the common wealth. To make a bundle brings money to a whole chain of beneficiaries, do with it what they will. “So, Government, leave the job creators alone!”

And yet, even Smith believed that there must be some order to transactions. For example, contracts must be honored and the buyer has a right to accurate information about the proposed purchase. There must be rule of law on these matters. The fact that the wealthy may spend their money on mansions, yachts and other fancy stuff is irrelevant. For the benevolent who would do the public good, they must seek investment by appealing to the moneyed in the capitalist’s self-interest; hence, naming rights for the new stadium, etc.

Civil society requires for the public good, the necessary rule of law. Deciding the public good becomes the bugaboo for entrepreneurs in a putative, free market. You cannot just do whatever you want to make a profit, e.g. steal things, sell bogus mortgages and unsafe drugs. And even Adam Smith did not condone monopoly. He said, People of the same trade seldom meet together even for merriment and diversion, but the conversation ends in a conspiracy against the public or some contrivance to raise prices.” Because of the threat of contrivance, we have set up public utilities to ensure that the optimum, fair market can exist for gas, electrical and communication services. Can you imagine what nightmare a competitive, profit-based army and navy might cause? The interminable debate about the public good goes on.

Which brings Taylor Tortoise to his favorite issues — health care and insurance. Are either of these any less in the public good than electricity or gas?  In the modern age of medical science they are commodities whose consumption in the 21st Century has become totally necessary to survival and the pursuit of happiness. Why? Because miraculous cures and therapies are available, that’s why. Of course, I should add higher education since a college diploma, if not a master’s degree, has surpassed a high school diploma as an absolute necessity. And the so-called free market is failing in both areas. We live in a time when young people are likely to start their careers bankrupt or virtually so under the weight of student loans. Obviously there are no jobs paying enough to make a fair, let alone, free market for either health care or higher education.  The free market demands pricing that works.  Otherwise, subsidy for essential necessities is inevitable; or health care prices itself out of the market consumers cannot afford — a clear failure of competition.

I move very slowly,” says Taylor Tortoise, but even I know change is over due. At the very minimum the public option — once upon a time even supported by Republicans — has become a necessity. And it need not be any more ‘socialistic’ than the power and light company.”

So here we are in 2012, nine months away from Election Day, throwing around epithets about free speech, Euro-socialism, social Darwinism and religious freedom. In the meantime the technocrat Barack Obama, runs the government by executive order. Congress is in permanent recess and vacant mood, it seems. Before John Boehner could stir up his House, the President had already compromised. Thus, there’s little left to do but wait for the next crisis — so much for benevolence. Adam Smith was right. It’s all about self-interest and greed. Democracy is messy.

[Permit me a sidebar before I end. There has been confusion in the past here at The Tortoise Factor. I need to tell you that The Tortoise's full name is D. Taylor Tortoise. The D stands for Dening, a pleasant enough name, but Taylor Tortoise prefers to be called Taylor. He has also gone by the simple, Tortoise or The Tortoise. He is a benevolent character.]

Steadfast and cautious,

David Milliken

 

 

 

 

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I must say that the best name for me is “Republicrat.”  At least we’re not likely to see Tweedle Dee versus Tweedle Dum this election, and as always I will vote.  Frankly I don’t know what I am any more.  The right war before Iraq was in Afghanistan.  I hope to God we don’t have to bomb, bomb, bomb Iran.  If we do, it must be an allied effort; though we and NATO can’t afford it.  Too bad we blew all those resources, human and financial, in Iraq.  An expensive war in Iran will destroy what’s left of the West, I fear.  We’re tired of war; well, some of us are.

Obama dropped the ball and a lot of statesmanship when he didn’t take up the Simpson-Bowles report.  I haven’t the faintest idea where Romney lives, really; but his Freudian slips tell me what he’s missing.  You know, he’s been unemployed, too.  His income from speeches c9uld have been better. Tch, tch.

But it’s Newt I’m after today.  He sent me into  a little research on Saul Alinsky.  Alinsky was a devout Jew until he became an atheist. Alinsky was a radical like Thomas Paine with a difference.  And both men had their right and freedom to be radical. My reading finds Alinsky associated with the likes of Jane Addams of Hull House and something called “sympathetic knowledge.”  Yes, they were community organizers.  I recall her from sixth grade history.  She was much revered and actually so was Alinsky.  True, he was called a Marxist and a Communist, but then so was Martin Luther King.  Alinsky came from the era of Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle.  It was the Chicago of child labor, slums and general working class poverty — a brutal age.  Both Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton were students of Alinsky.  I do not believe Hillary or Barack are socialists, communists or anything else subversive.

When Newt says Obama wants to re-shape the nation in a way the Framers had never conceived of, I think its more a matter of being aware that the Framers did not know the Great Depression, the Robber Barons, nuclear warfare and catastrophic health care costs. Nothing to be afraid of Newt, it’s just a different world that we in our time must deal with using “sympathetic knowledge” of  the countless ones without a lobby.  We don’t need to forsake the Constitution, but it must work in our world.

I know what Newt is up to — distorting history, implying this and that kind of bogey man.  As an historian, he knows better, but because he is an historian that also makes him effective and guilty of  malpractice.  It’s the old, predictable Newt.

What I wouldn’t give for honesty in Election 2012.

Steadfast and cautious,

David Milliken

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I really enjoy blogging, but because I am a writer, not a techy.  After a relatively easy start  with WordPress and GoDaddy, for a long time I was unsure of what “self-hosting” means.  My software lies off in Tempe, Arizona (I think) while I reside  in Kansas with Toto. I was also confused whether to use the support base on WordPress.org or on WordPress.com.  Even the support volunteers get confused.  One person told me I was a “dotcom WordPresser” and not a “dotorg” kind of guy.  (I had specifically avoided the dotorg status, because I was scared of it.)  Surprise, surprise, I had stumbled into Dotorg World without knowing it. I discovered that I did not have the limitations of a WordPress. com blogger.  All kinds of self-inflicted mischief lay at my call. So I dived into Part III of WordPress for Dummies.  I bought WordPress Bible which is still well beyond me.  I am “in the cloud” in more than one way.

I’ve learned that I will go broke, if I keep saying yes to “Oh, it’s only forty-five bucks a year for this widget and that widget.  So, at the moment my best backups are my blog copy.  If the thing goes kerplop, I’m up Digital Creek.  I’ve been to a WordPress Meet Up, but those folks intimidate the hell out of me.  In the meantime I read as much as I can, but the jargon often defies understanding.  The techy types never quite understand how little I know, so they talk above me without knowing it.  There’s something to be said for good pedagogy. The nice man at GoDaddy spoke English.  God loves an empathetic support person.

As for the vaunted virtues of open source software, God, there aren’t enough dummy books to help this guy — at least quickly.  As I discovered with Sun’s abandoned version of MS Office, called Open Office, Open Source Land is a lonely, lonely place.  However, I am making progress. I haven’t used MS Office for months.  Now you see why my blog is so appropriately named the tortoisefactor.com.

Luckily I started plummeting cyberspace with my own mental droppings very quickly. There have been a few book reviews, personal reflections (especially about career) and other topics on which I have a modicum of knowledge.  Political blogs receive the least interest, perhaps because of the plethora elsewhere.

As for you, my sometime readers, I don’t know who you are, but I  know your statistical behavior.  I know your state or country and am intrigued by the hits from the UK, Ghana and the Philippines. I have respectable numbers of new visitors, but the “bounce rate” could be better. (The bounce rate in most endeavors could be better, too. ) That particular statistic tells me the percentage of folks who drop by my site and then bounce off, probably to a sexier, site.  But I do think there are signs of some loyalty to www.thetortoisefactor.com.

Too many comments wind up in SPAM, though.  They are usually very polite, ungrammatical robotic (if not illiterate), messages that sell something.  Some would like to give a cookie to my machine.

As for blogging — sheer fun, addictive like Facebook.  Finding an audience here in cyperspace has proved as challenging as the same effort in the analog world of literary agents and publishers.  It’s a jungle.

Comments from humans are not only sought, but fervently sought. We’re all open source here.

Steadfast and cautious,

David Milliken

 

 

I started plummeting cyberspace with my wisdom and insights very quickly.

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