BizNetz

Okay  I was talking with a friend who has a big fancy degree and lots of real world crazy Mergers and Acquisition experience and now he’s making a career change into something else that sounds boring and so we went to Chic Fil A to eat a sandwich.

So he’s going off to do business plan consulting, and what I’m about to explain is not as complicated as Asteroid Mining.

Essentially most people who are going to be all smart and do smart people stuff charge a flat rate to do the smart stuff for you, leaving you, the plebe, on your own, out of pocket with a big fancy piece of paper with scribbles and doodles all over it called a business plan.

The first time I heard about a business model was in a thick Urdu accent during my internship in San Francisco. To give you an idea of what a model is, the easiest to describe is the Razor and Blades strategy of Gillette.  For those uninitiated,, if you turn 18 in the United States you get a letter from the Selective Service Administration and then either before or after this Gillette mails you a razor, for free. Man that is a deal. They give you a razor. For free. All the blades after the first cost money. Kinda how inner city Heroin dealers give you the first hit for free.

So now the Dollar Shave Club has them behind the eight ball with a subscription model, wherein you keep them on subscription, freeing up RAM in the brain to focus on Pokemon and whether or not desalination could prevent or cause more violence in the Middle East.

Back to my bro. I’m telling him to, instead of setting a flat rate to help people develope the kind of complicated charts and graphs fancy shmancy forecast that the WSJ falls over itself for, he should charge to be onsite hanging over their shoulder telling them what to write and how to write it. I’ve seen some smart folks with super cool lines and graphs all over their bidness.

So I suggested to my bro that he need to just sit behind these people and give instruction, and now that I’m sitting here thinking about, it he needs a big propeller beanie on his head and some sort of attention grabby Marquee arrow pointing to them that says, “BUSINESS ADVICE” and he can just sit around like Lucy from Peanuts.
This Chic Fil A is important to me because it is where I heard the best witness to Jesus conversion ever. See, there’s a concept in Evangelism circles called, “the Roman Road” and it centers around 3 verses of scripture that are in Romans. Well, he my buddy starts at Romans 3:23 talking about how ‘all have sinned and fall short of the Glory’ blah blah blah, and then moves to Romans 10:9 where if you confess Christ is savior and believe the resurrection you will be saved, and things are going well at this point so instead of moving to some fancy stay positive message in Romans he goes straight to Revelation 3:20, I stand at the door and knock. For those atheists who don’t know or Baptists who don’t read Romans is a fancy theological legal defense of the Gospels by Paul,  and Revelations is the end times prophesy/poetic predictor of the next political election depending on who you are. Imagine if you took Casper the Friendly Ghost and replaced the last fifteen minutes with the end of Poltergeist 2.

So this Chic Fil A is known to me as the place for chicken sandwiches and tearful conversion with no pressure at all.

Here’s Nancy Kerrigan in 4 minutes making you want to cry.

 

 

Advertisements

Erased Bases

Before I sat down today, actually while I was sitting down, my phone started to slip out of my pocket. The front pocket of my shirt has a button which usually prevents this but today I had no such protection in place. My phone is a regular modest new phone I bought last week and it has a pleather back on it that is soft and supple in my fingers. The screen is not cracked and for a second this was in schroedingers blissful ether as said telecommunications device exceeded the coefficient of friction and began a slow acceleration pulled by a vector of gravity diagonally out of my pocket as I bent over to sit down. Luckily my fingers per chance handling a strap on my backpack were nearby and darted over to snatch the phone out of the air as it began to sail past the lip of my shirt’s aforementioned breastpocket. Phew.

About twenty minutes earlier I had been on the phone with my buddy Nat, his wife has asked me to write a bit about my time in California and I will but today it was about humility and the role humility has in our lives. Humility is a concept that Jesus mentions and it gets a lot of overlooking. In passing I assured him that “don’t worry I have a good memory.” and left it there.

Humility comes from having an accurate assessment of where you stand in life, and then choosing to step about a step down from there. It can be very easy to assume, especially in election season, that we have the right answer and are always correct and everyone else is a big stupid dumb dumb. Jesus never said anything about politics and all we have is Ecclesiastes 10:2. But what can we be confident about? The government in charge at the start of Christ’s reign on earth was equally powerful at his death, and at the death of every one of his o=initial followers who were there when he boldly told them, “I have overcome the world.” (The address, which is a term handed to me by a homeless buddy named Santiago, is John 16:33 )

So in today’s language, there’s only one conclusion. Christ knew that the government in charge would be there when all 12 around him were martyred… And assuming for a moment that he was aware of his coming resurrection, he was telling his disciples something tha they could not comprehend ,before they were ready for it.  Imagine, if you will, if Bernie  Sanders opened his campaign by saying, “we’re going to lose and I’m going to recommend you vote for my primary opponent.”

How far would that go? All the world is a stage so we have to assume that Christ wasn’t talking about anything other than an individual level of overcoming. Overcoming the “self.”

Rather than repeat concepts that other smarter people have made, just think what it would look like if everything that was “you” got out of the way.

If you made it this far, congratulations, here’s a whale they just discovered to prove you don’t know everything.

Makes you think, there’s a 25 foot long whale that we’ve never taxonomy wise found, and some Japanese fishermen have happenstanced them for a bit, only now it’s time to ad crazy latin names and phylum distinctions and whatnot to a whale. But in the trillions of gallons of water, a whale was able to sneak around undiscovered, unnoticed as different, even with a skeleton marked on a museum wall, nobody noticed the difference until today.  Sheesh. Just think what kind of microbes are floating around in us that we’ve missed. Heck there might even be a human being in your life that YOU’VE missed. That’s kinda crazy, I know, but hey, that’s the whale in the living room. Peace.

 

Jury Duty

So I am sitting down at the Frank Crowley  court building. Jury service, I got a letter in the mail for jury service.

So  now I must sit in what feels like  1970s airport. First, I feel like everything government can achieve when functionality, simplicity and the validation of never offending anybody has been reached inside government buildings. Brutalist architecture  reigns supreme.

The well dressed lady at the front has to remind people to stay off the walls. This is either due to the fire Marshall or a ritualistic system of oppression enforcing compliance via inculcated instant obedience to arbitrary tasks.

“We goin to get ready to start a film.” Film time.

After describing the process of voir dire a roll call covering roles in court proceeds. Defendant judge recorder etc. They do not mention interns.

They mention Facebook MySpace and Twitter. Imagine that, 2016 and people are still  mentioning Twitter. Ha!

Okay the video is over and it has dawned on me that the real reason they have these boring videos and announcements is because people tend to forget  to do simple accounting issues like turning in jury badges.

I’m totally trying to get on the grand jury. There is  a 90% chance  that I can’t  but it is also minutely possible that I can, so excelsior. The crowning achievement of the day arrives at 9:44 when the woman at the front says for anyone who needs to go to the bathroom  to run, emphasize run, and hurry back before we begin. This should be one or two people with bladder or prostate problems but around forty people  get up and WALK.  Seriously anyone who has worked as a teacher knows that probably half of all bathroom requests are just to go clear the air mentally. What we need is the sassiest, rudest  person possible standing at the entry way saying “really?” To every  person.

Now they are divvying up the juror pool. Having sworn in I am now ineligible to lie and get out of jury service. But a compulsively dishonest citizen could have the mendacity to pummel through the selection process in order to make an impact.  There’s a guy wearing stunner shades. He must be Methodist.

Since  we’ve all been there it does seem odd that juror pools get progressively larger as they go on. Not BUM, but like, the first jury selection pool is about 136, and the third goes from the 500s to the 800s.

897 to 1263. I am the progressively accurate juror 1984. I hope I get a traffic ticket case. Jury annulment all the way. The next group puts us well into the 1500s. Makes you wonder if the person grouping these gets to go home as soon he/ she is done. Up to 1921. Unless there’s a peak afoot I’m in the next pool. Up to 2913. I m in the 7th  floor. I took the stairs.

Jurors are mean because they have to sit around all day. Frank Crowley was Dallas  county  commissioner  from 1o60 to 1968.

Now I am in a coffee shop the next day. All I am going to say is the case was complicated enough and emotionally charged enough that they had to invite 1,000 people  get 12 people and I’m glad I’m not one of them. It is an incredibly visceral experience when the fate of multiple people hangs in the balance. I don’t want to be on a grand jury now. Everyone owes it to the justice system to show up when invited. Not because it is enjoyable, but because some unpleasant and nasty situations come down to “if you don’t, someone bad will.” Because evil happens in the world.

Whiskery Tango

FeralCats
This will make sense later.

Feral cats in New Zealand have devastated the bird and lizard populations, caused the extinction of at least six bird species and as a, result any cat found in the wild is euthanized. This goes back to one pregnant cat in 1894.

Now ask yourself, in your deepest, green peace-est heart of hippy hearts, right next to the patchouli oil and dredlocks, if you were a phantom floating around back in 1894 and you had the option to either smash that cat’s head in with a rock or stand by and allow wholesale slaughter of native fauna(the same as killing them with a rock yourself), which would you choose? That cat would be dead.

Let’s make it simpler, and keep the rock analogy because it is horrifying. Suppose you take that one momma cat and  kittens on one scale, and every animal they will kill in the next 122 years on the other side.  Weight them. Either put the eight cats in a burlap bag and throw them in the river, or put all the animals that will be killed by them into bags and toss them into the river, which would you do? You have to choose the cats, because no mortal could fit 122 years worth of bugs and birds into bags. Admit it, those cats would be in the river, even if you just humanely use a rock to smash heads in your arm would get tired and fall off before you got even halfway through the birds and lizards. For strict physical exertion, you have to choose cats.

Within the feline’s telos is the thrill of the hunt. To crouch in the underbrush and wiggle its hind two legs as it prepares to spring, retractable claws and cat reflexes that can send even hardened country dogs running for the farmhouse yelping in pain. They can sink into native songbird and dismember native mammalia with ease. Every diverse mammal dies and ironically only common field mice remain. A cat is the equivalent of a madman with chainsaw and hockey mask breaking into the symphony hall and vivisecting the Orchestra as it attempts to perform Prokofiev’s March for the Love of Three Oranges

Now, this strong language may irk people, but:

 

Woodpeckers have feelings too. Of course, after a feral cat murders them they don’t feel anything, but in consideration of suffering, it feels inappropriate to sanitize language when the subject is predation and dismemberment. Even the animals that survive feral cat attacks likely succumb to sepsis due to the oral bouquet of cat based germs. So maybe we could conscript an army of dentists for flossing every single feral cat in America.

For the record, even PETA thinks euthanizing feral cats is humane. To quote Ingrid Kirkman, President of PETA,on the subject of releasing cats back into the non-native wild:
“It’s no kindness; it’s because people feel uncomfortable with euthanasia. That’s understandable, but it’s no excuse.”

The problem with killing kitties, of course, is that they are cute.  But as SMU learned in 2015, cute animals still get fleas. Teas based Suthern Methodist University dealt with a massive backlash when public outcry against the idea of killing the feral cats exploded and the Ponies capitulated due to pressure. They had to termiNIX their work with a comprehensive plan to cleanse the campus and went with a re-homing group that allegedly puts feral cats in other home, but since every expert to the T agrees unless the feral cat is under 5 weeks old rehoming is impossible, they probably died anyway.  Let us save ourselves some trouble and, in a good, manly fashion, ask ourselves: is it time to start murdering kittens?

Hawaii is just now starting to see the kitty problem.

Confession, as one of the angry people who complained to SMU for daring to kill the cats,  an enlightening bit on NPR changed my mind resulting in having to to pull a Trump and pick a polarized hard line on the issue. We have only two choices: Execute Feral Cats for Bird Murder(Burder), or stare at dough eyed kitties while our protected endangered songbirds are destroyed. Even cat spay neuter experts acknowledge that spay and neuter programs do not work beyond a pat on the back feel good in the moment way.

Unfortunately, as I’m finding, it’s not proving to work at that scale. It’s just a really difficult endeavor.

Now right now there are some die hard ant-fact cat lovers who ignore how we treat literally every other invasive species out there who demand that TNR works(TNR is the humane way to say that they catch live cats and cut them up) but to them I ask, does a cat need any reproductive capacity to kill endangered songbirds? No. They need claws, teeth, and that is how I have found a solution.

What we need to do is use the Boy Scouts of America as an army to round up all 80 million feral cats in the United States over the summer and declaw, spay, neuter and remove all of their teeth. Then we release them back into the wild as adorable gummy cats for all the world to appreciate. And how are we gonna pay for this? Cat tooth jewelry. You’re welcome.

 

 

 

Pokinda Eye

Okay, so last night I went out at 1AM to snag some Pokemon and I scared a guy who was, you guessed it, so engrossed in his hunt for Pokemon that he didn’t Poke-notice me poke-cycling up to him and he almost Pokemond himself as he Poke-jumped in Poke-terror.  Then we discussed the evenings hunt, while he schooled me on tactics, I realized here I was, 1:20 AM, standing next to this sketchy guy four inches away and if he had any nefarious intent, my guard was dropped, not looking at him. If he had decided to crack me upside the head that would have been it. Instead I’m here, now, to comment.

3 Sentence Rundown: Yesterday Boeing banned employees from playing on the worksite, Arlington National Cemetery has requested people to stop wandering around the interred veterans.  Then there are Universities welcoming the craze, and doctors being sad sacks warning about injury from ‘going outside’.

I’m one of those losers who runs around outside for exercise and to enjoy the scenery. On recent lap around White Rock Lake, I noticed  a simply enormous surge in people outside walking around. From this single day I have decided that PokemonGo is the best thing ever and I’m for it, it should be allowed everywhere to the extent that if you can sneak into Area51 to catch a Charzard and escape undetected that shouldn’t be a crime and you cannot be prosecuted.

The app makes people walk around outside and look at things. This is unequivocally good. The benefits of exercise alone justifies any and all injuries that happen. This does not extend to people driving around in cars from stop to stop, this is ethically equivalent to drive by shootings and gang violence, a cruel twist on social interaction and misappropriating our collective social experience in a way that degrades society and everything we as Americans stand for. It is very good and joyful thing that the Second World War ended in surrender from the Emperor of Japan otherwise there may not have been a Japan to rebuild, to invent not Toyota or the Prius, but PokemonGO, to take youth out of doors to enjoy green grass, concrete, sunburn, bugbites, snakebites and this Walt Whitman verse with appropriate substitution.

“I like your interest in sports ball, chiefest of all poke-ball particularly: poke-ball is our game: the American game: I connect it with our national character. Sports take people out of doors, get them filled with oxygen generate some of the brutal customs (so-called brutal customs) which, after all, Poketend to habituate people to a necessary physical stoicism. We are some ways a dyspeptic, nervous Poke-set: anything which will repair such losses may be regarded as a blessing to the race. We want to go out and howl, swear, run, jump, wrestle, even fight, if only by so doing we may improve the guts of the Poke-people: the guts, vile as guts are, divine as Poke-guts are!

-Walt ‘Blastoise’ Whitman 1888

This is all. I cannot top that.

 

Walt Whitman

Don’t Play Here

‘Real Doctor’ Trying to Ruin Everyones Fun

Boeing Day at Work

Play Stupid Games, Win Stupid Prizes