This is your very first post. Click the Edit link to modify or delete it, or start a new post. If you like, use this post to tell readers why you started this blog and what you plan to do with it.
First blog post
This is the post excerpt.
This is the post excerpt.
This is your very first post. Click the Edit link to modify or delete it, or start a new post. If you like, use this post to tell readers why you started this blog and what you plan to do with it.
Out for a few jogs recently, I’ve observed massive amounts of manual labor in pursuit of beautiful lawns. Pausing to take note of the machinery, fuel consumption, man hours, and monetary considerations, I’ve become increasingly curious for the following reasons:
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These policies are often enforced by snipers |
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Built in the early 1500s, Chateau de Chambord (roughly 200km south of Paris), is credited with originating the lawn as we know it. |
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King Francis I? Nope. Kenny Powers. |
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Hanford Rd., Canton, Michigan |
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Gyde Rd., Canton, Michigan |
Behold! Marcel Duchamp’s 1917 work of art, Fountain:
Here’s the backstory, 100 years ago (almost to the day), my man Duchamp purchased this mass-produced urinal, signed it with a pseudonym (R. Mutt?), and popped it into a museum. Initially, the Society of Independent Artists rejected Fountain and refused to display it at an exhibit. 87 years later (2004), a group of 500 selected British art world professionals named Fountain the most influential art work of the 20th century–ahead of works by guys like Picasso and Matisse.
Is it art? As it turns out, Fountain simply exists as an objective thing and it’s up to us as individuals to determine its meaning–if there is one at all.
Art and urinals aside, what about the rest of our world and all of our opinions about it? Which foods we prefer, whether or not today’s weather is convenient, whether or not we are successful, our emotions, on and on. Who decides what we call “good” and “bad”?
For example, Simon Sinek (so hot right now in the intellectual community) used to be nervous before speaking in front of large groups. Then he realized that the symptoms that accompany nervousness—increase in heart rate, perspiration, anticipation of what’s coming, etc.–are the exact same as those that come along with excitement. In short, nervousness and excitement biochemically identical, and the difference is in how we choose to interpret these sensations.
Nervousness and excitement aren’t the only emotions we make mistakes about, countless psychological studies have revealed that perceived “good” and “bad” emotions are so similar to one another that we often can’t tell the difference. People mistake fear for romantic arousal, and often find jokes to be hilarious even though they can’t understand what’s so funny.
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Is this love or am I terrified? |
We often talk of weather as pleasant or unpleasant, but how can this be? Isn’t weather just an objective reality? Can we choose to enjoy a cloudy day and call it good?
Defining Success
In addition to our difficulty in defining art and determining how we feel, we also seem to drive ourselves nuts trying to figure out if we are successful or not. Evolution has hard-wired us to want to fit in with the tribe, to compare ourselves to others, and to define our worldly success accordingly.
Now that we no longer live in tribes, any success we achieve is usually followed by meeting other people who are more successful and who make us feel insignificant. Then, we subconsciously define them as successful and we are (by default) striving for success again.
Up to Us
At the end of the day, it’s up to us. There’s the objective world–weather, the opinions of other people, and urinals–that is not our to change, and there’s our opinion of that world which is entirely up to us. When defining success, are we using an inner or outer scorecard? As billionaire investor Warren Buffet explains, if we place our self worth on what we perceive the outside world thinks of us, we’re setting ourselves up for disaster.
By directing attention inward, however, we take control and decide what everything means. We decide if life is a urinal or a work of art.
You probably haven’t recently thought to yourself, “I wonder what, if any, is the overlap between Stalin’s tyrannical rule of the 20th century Soviet Union and the sugar industry’s relationship to the current obesity epidemic?” Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered. I’ll even weave in some March Madness for entertainment purposes.
Here we go:
If there were a March Madness-style office pool for “worst human ever,” the most popular pick is probably Hitler. Hitler’s atrocities are well known, he had a trademark look (swastika and ridiculous mustache), much like North Carolina’s basketball pedigree is well-documented. UNC frequently plays on primetime against Duke and other longtime rivals, and celebrated alums such as Michael Jordan and Rasheed Wallace are often in attendance.
Stalin, who I’ve lampooned before, is more of a Gonzaga. Yes, he’s a #1 seed and not exactly on a surprise run, but there is less certainty around Joe Joe. The scale of his atrocities (such as how many Ukrainians he starved) are still debated, and the facts that do exist came to light long after his death. Similarly, even long-time college basketball enthusiasts such as myself couldn’t tell you what conference Gonzaga plays in or who their arch rival is. Stalin’s atrocities (much like sugar’s) live in a Gonzaga-like uncertainty.
By the way, if such a bracket pool were to come up, I’m going with Uday Hussein as a sleepy five-seed to take the crown.
OK enough hoops. Let’s get down to it.
Stalin ruled the then-Soviet Union from 1922 – 1953 (before just kinda mysteriously dying) and was pretty much a cheat and a liar the whole time. A few highlights:
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Oh but he seems so grandfatherly! |
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This is called ‘Pullin’ a Stalin’! |
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These are real |
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Whatever it takes |
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The 1980 Championship led to the Disease of More |
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Wait, what am I doing here? |
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Photo from a recent trip to Del Norte campground at Channel Islands National Park (that’s my shadow). Unlike Vegas and Disney, National Parks do not advertise. |
If one thing is clear about Daylight Saving Time (DST), it’s that it is unclear.
A recent informal survey of some of the smartest people I know regarding the reasoning behind this biannual jet lag infusion produced the following hypotheses:
Uh, I think it’s the farmers. Isn’t it?
I heard it’s for school buses and, like, kids.
Isn’t it for, uh, like TV?
These absurd answers, combined with my own lack of knowledge on the issue, have prompted this blog post. What are the origins of DST, and why do we still do it? Here’s what I found out:
First let’s dispel a few myths:
1. Daylight Saving Time has absolutely nothing to do with farmers. In fact, considering the rise-with-rooster lifestyle, farmers were probably among the last Homo Sapiens to own clocks.
2. Ben Franklin didn’t seriously want to do it. Although he was the first to bring it up, he was certainly joking. During his time as French ambassador, Franklin wrote a letter to spoof the lazy French and make them aware of how much daylight they slept through.
The Real History
While the idea had been attempted in a few local communities, credit for implementation at the national level goes to none other than the bold, innovative, and sometimes genocidal early 20th century Germans! This is what most of them looked like:
Here’s how it went down: shortly after making the bold (and unprecedented) decision to fight a war against THE WORLD, Kaiser Wilhelm, Paul von Hindenburg (of blimp disaster fame), and other jerks in spiked helmets realized they had no plan for any sort of wartime economy, and that they would have to improvise. Here’s what they came up with:
1915: Start rationing bread and hope that does the trick. This was a short-term success.
1916: Slaughter millions of pigs, eat them, free up whatever grains the pigs were gonna eat…eat those too. While another short-term success, this had obvious consequences after they ate everything and the war continued. The threat of civilian starvation became constant from this point forward.
1916: Ok let’s have everyone eat turnips for a while. As widespread malnutrition set in, there was virtually only one food left and it was ordinarily used as animal feed. Turnip Winter is well-known in German culture today, and is almost certainly invoked by scores of contemporary German parents as part of vain efforts to get kids to eat unsavory vegetables and such.
1916: Maybe we can conserve kerosene if we get everyone to move their clocks ahead an hour? This kinda makes sense if you think about it. The world was lit by kerosene lamps and candles at the time, and if people utilized natural light for an “extra” hour each evening, it could add up to something over time. So the Germans implemented it and sparked a wartime fashion trend. Like early 90s suburban middle schoolers and Girbauds, soon all of Europe wanted to be down with DST (yeah you know me!).
Was it effective? According to Michael Dowling’s Spring Forward: The Annual Madness of Daylight Saving Time, it’s impossible to know. Energy consumption varies widely with the weather from year to year, and that’s under ordinary circumstances. 100 years ago with the world at war, I’m assuming a mass data project of such little consequence was not a high priority. The world pressed on with DST based on a hunch.
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1918 DST Promotional Material |
American Response
By the time the United States jumped into WWI in the spring of 1917, the DST domino effect had run its course in Europe. Some dude named William Willett proposed American DST, threw out a baseless prediction of $25 million in annual savings, and proceeded to confuse a relatively simple-minded nation with an unprecedented concept.
Those in favor of DST believed working parents would be able to play with their kids for another hour, working women could walk home safely during daylight, and that DST would lead to an increase in social welfare (somehow).
Those opposed employed similar irrationality, arguing DST would prevent people from leisurely mornings and would directly cause overcrowding of transit lines (somehow). Ultimately, in 1918, America decided to give it a shot. And then? A comedy of errors!
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C’mon Man! |
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Minnesota Newspaper – 1965 |
If we were to get rid of Daylight Saving Time, what goes in its place? Nothing? Do we leave the clocks sprung forward or fallen back? Meet halfway? Are we ready to have this debate? When the US toppled Saddam Hussein in 2003, they knew they were getting rid of a dickhead. What they did not prepare for, however, were the unintended consequences of overthrowing an iron-fisted dictator who was able to maintain order by way of assholery…and now we have ISIS.
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The similarities between Saddam Hussein and Daylight Savings Time are uncanny |
In my recently-informed opinion, Daylight Saving Time–much like Saddam Hussein–is bad for the world. But the alternative–lengthy debates based on personal preferences while we certainly have bigger fish to fry–could be worse. So we’re stuck with it.
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DST across the globe today. 1/4 of the world population is affected by DST. |
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The “Wicked Bible” 1631 |
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Our primitive brains may not be ready for this |
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U can’t touch me.
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Peter appears to be in the groove |
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The Resistance is a total a-hole |
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Willpower |
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Playing the Long Game
There’s that saying – Life is short – well, I disagree. Life is long. And our habits, which develop over extended periods of time, can make life pretty miserable if we passively allow bad ones to develop. No one starts off by saying, “you know what? I’m gonna make a point to slam KFC twice per week, and be sure to wash it down with a jumbo Mountain Dew.” No, your KFC/Do the Dew habit is the negative version of the habit loop.
There’s the cue (driving past KFC or seeing that guy at work who looks like Colonel Sanders), the routine (hitting the drive thru), and the reward (that sweet taste bud sensation of fried-chickeny-fructose corn syrup on your tongue). It’s cheap, it’s easy, and the next thing you know, your Pavlovian brain has you craving fake mashed potatoes every time you see Phil Jackson on TV.
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You’re craving a famous bowl right now, aren’t you? |