Comments for MORNING BUZZ

Comment on Post-Retirement Growth? by Heisenberg's Eyes

Heisenberg's Eyes — Sun, 05 Sep 2010 22:12:39 +0000

There was an aphorism, or maybe it was only a quip which found its way into the annals of popular culture: gettin’ old ain’t for sissies. Yes, this is true, when one takes into account aches, pains and infirmities—I expect that this was the original focus of the quip. But, I have added my own slant to the original: gettin’ old ain’t for sissies and neither is retirement. As Lee has pointed out, retirement is another career—whether we want it or not. Now mind you, I am not interested in sitting down and waiting for the specter with the scythe to mow me down. There are better things to do with one’s time and energies and seniors are slowly learning this. However, knowledge is a dangerous commodity—particularly so to actuaries whose task it is to predict when “los viejos” will ‘fold’; cash in their chips; take an extended powder; or snooze the ‘big dirt nap.’ (To me the period should go outside the single quotes—but, hey, logic does not work well in the English language.)—er, language).—oh fudge, I don’t know.

Where was I? Ah, well—we are supposed to die. Before it costs too much to keep us alive. Before our retirement fund awards exceed that point at which the actuaries have determined that we should have moved on to, well, you know. It is an aspect of the science of diminishing returns. There are, of course, parameters. The most important of those is whether or not we are still making money for someone. Allowances are made, actuarily, for those whose worth remains in the assets column. This is not rocket science. It is accounting. Note the operative word above: allowances.

You can figure all this out for yourself(ves) and you probably already have done so. Retirement is another word for saying no and going about one’s business. But it will get tougher. Because as you age, more excuses for ignoring you will be forthcoming. And if you cannot remember things; mispell words; misplace punctuations and leave participles dangling; you are certainly doomed to obsolescence. It took me many years to understand that death is a science. Most of us never figure that out. Which is exactly the point.

Good luck. You are going to need it.

Comment on Liars by 008

008 — Sun, 05 Sep 2010 09:27:27 +0000

Along the thread that Lee was knitting, your mention of the garage door is a manifestation of someone who is a ‘character’.

HM Secret Service retiree,

008

Comment on Liars by Dave

Dave — Sun, 05 Sep 2010 00:01:53 +0000

I doubt he played rugby. If his book is truthful, he was too busy dodging bullets in Lebanon. I do not think his truth is the only one, nor is it even the best one. I do think he saw something in Jung’s assessment of synchronicity, which may have led him to his own postulation of black swans. Just a hunch, of course–an operational examination of opinion. But, hey, I have never spoken with Mr. T. God does not play dice? Or does he? He is not talking to me. Old Albert isn’t either. And if they would or could, what would they tell me? Precious little, I suspect. Certainly, nothing I could do anything about.

Yeah, reality is all relative. We are here—then, not. We leave our genes (or are supposed to); then we die. YAWN. Maybe I’ll work on the garage door tomorrow. Al doesn’t care. NNT has his own album to do—he wants to be a philosopher. Imagine that. Maybe he should talk to some one or more of the moderns. Or not.

Comment on Crowds by Heisenberg's Eyes

Heisenberg's Eyes — Sat, 04 Sep 2010 22:44:04 +0000

The camel rests. Children are a bore. Animals are dependent, until they have been abandoned, then look out—they are better in the dark than we are. As you probably know, I finally got more than twenty words out of a mutual blogger. Wondered when/if that might happen. Thought that person might not be real at all, inasmuch as he/she failed to weigh in on his/her own questions and/or other things. But, you’ll have that. And yes, we do. Quibble me this; quibble me that…

Good writing with you. I like cats. They do not make me happy. They simply remind me that there are intelligences, beyond my own. Intelligences which were here before homo sapiens. Intelligences which may outlive homo sapiens. And why not? There is something assuring about a purring cat—a resonance, maybe. Something…

good night.

Comment on Liars by Lee

Lee — Sat, 04 Sep 2010 12:09:04 +0000

Somehow I doubt that the writer of those tales would ever read The Black Swan by N.N. Talib. However---in my book---Taleb and Watson are 'characters'. Watson says,

The thought of rugby in Stratford caused me to remark to my wife that the game was a great character builder. “And I assume you are one of the characters it built,” she said, handing me my lunchtime pills and a glass of water.

And Taleb says,

My major hobby is teasing people who take themselves & the quality of their knowledge too seriously & those who don’t have the courage to sometimes say: I don’t know...." (You may not be able to change the world but can at least get some entertainment & make a living out of the epistemic arrogance of the human race).

What I do: I am interested in a systematic program of how to live in a world we don’t understand very well –in other words, while most human thought (particularly since the enlightenment) has focused us on how to turn knowledge into decisions, I focus on how to turn lack of information, lack of understanding, and lack of “knowledge” into decisions –how not to be a “turkey”.

My last book The Black Swan (and the 4th Quadrant papers) drew a map of what we don’t understand (the ONLY attempt in the history of thought to set a clear and systematic limit to what we don't know); my current work focuses on how to domesticate the unknown "what to do in a world we don't understand. N.N. Taleb Link

I think these two quotes are the words of 'characters'. I wonder if Taleb ever played rugby.

Comment on Crowds by The Quibbler

The Quibbler — Sat, 04 Sep 2010 11:48:32 +0000

Actors are fake people. Animals are fake kids. I don’t like fakes and they don’t like me.

Having perfected this attitude, my world is more manageable now than ever.

My motto is the KISS method. “Keep it simple, stupid!”

My favorite comedy skit is the one where the Queen has so many corgi dogs that they are squished under foot by palace visitors.

The Q strikes again.

Comment on Crowds by Dave

Dave — Fri, 03 Sep 2010 22:55:41 +0000

There is no scientific proof (quote, end of quote) for it. But there is something about having/keeping pets which appears to allow people to live longer. Cats, dogs, gerbils, iguanas and/or whatever we may fancy, there is something about them and how we feel about them which helps us cope with our lives. And that would seem to be the answer: HOW WE FEEL ABOUT THEM. The feeling thing is what keeps us going. It does not appear to matter exactly how well we are physiologically, when we are better off psychologically. Doctors cannot explain this—and it bothers them a lot. It should not, but, we know how science is: empirical and all.

By the time this is on Lee’s blog; Zsa Zsa Gabor may have expired. Everyone dies. I think she loved dogs. Little feisty ones. If she goes out at 93+, well, hey, good for her! Green Acres is the place to be…we should all be so, uh, lucky(?)

Comment on Liars by Dave

Dave — Fri, 03 Sep 2010 22:19:12 +0000

Ian: I wonder if you have thought about reading The Black Swan, by N.N. Talib. Different from your experiences, perhaps, but if you read it, maybe not so much.

Much love and respect,…best to Tina as well.

Comment on Post-Retirement Growth? by Dave

Dave — Tue, 31 Aug 2010 22:42:28 +0000

And it is just so, isn’t it? After we have reached an end (“productive employment”), we are expected to simply get old and die. No other aspirations; no thoughts outside the box; not much of anything really. I presaged this about seven years ago when writing my thoughts about where we were, are and might be. No one ever takes us seriously—unless of course, we write something which ‘fires a neuron’, ‘strikes a chord’, or whatever it was I wrote those few years ago (might have been: nudges a ventricle)—see, it was fresh and clever then—now, there is nothing to it because someone else has come up with words such as awesome (to describe a particularly successful bowel movement); viral( describing what we might have thought of as disease-causing life forms). And, of course, there is Um—which arises in the most quasi-intellectual places. Or not. Well,well,well…, or not so much. Of course, Um spelled backwards is Mu. Now we have a different tale. How quaint.

Comment on Post-Retirement Growth? by Lee

Lee — Tue, 31 Aug 2010 10:22:14 +0000

I have a theory that basic properties of humanness include having theories and noticing things. The noticing leads to the evolution and elaboration of yet more theories. Unless. Unless we are so *#! busy that we have to put off the exercise of our normal powers, while we grudgingly bore ourselves to death.

Then something comes along to disrupt the drudgery. My current favorite disruption is retirement. I have waited so long. Finally I can resume my humanness again.

Decades ago, well into my 2nd or 3rd career, I was chatting with some other professionals at cocktails—after some conference or other. One of my associates noticed my habit of thinking and talking “outside of the box”. I disclosed one of my standard idealistic mindsets to her, as in: I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours.

“How did you manage to remain like that?” she asked—implying that we adults haven’t got time for such nonsense. You see I hadn’t forgotten my humanity. I had filed the most of it away on a back burner—not quite gone, definitely not forgotten. Bits were bound to seep out on occasion. And now… retirement has opened flood gates. Once again I am become, me—noticing, thinking and solving to beat the band.

When I hear about how society is becoming too flush with longer living retirees, my immediate thought is:

“We’ve come a long way baby, and you ain’t seen nothing yet!”

I am reminded of that tiny poem attributed to Mohamed Ali. “Me. Whee!” Even Ali is a retiree. Whee!