Laying claim to the land of The Dutch Uncle Game – which just might be everyplace.

Q: How do you tell a good leader from a poor one?A: Practice!Image by: Andrew Kitzmiller

The Dutch Uncle Game is a temporary assertion of dominion over territory, and, hence, it is a game of appropriate authority – affectionately managing inclusion and exclusion to achieve a goal.

The game itself could not be simpler, but the ideas it repeatedly teaches are central to the ThriversEd curriculum.

You play like this:

1. As the self-proclaimed Dutch Uncle, you assert your dominance over a previously unclaimed social space – such as an empty table in a lounge area or a vacant corner of a kitchen counter at a party – by laying down your game token: A small medallion, one side white, one side black. While your token is visible, you have declared that space to be your temporary dominion, with you as its Dutch Uncle.

2. Your objective? A well-managed Sociability. In a lounge or at a party, your goal might simply be chatting – or it might be very serious conversation. In ThriversEd, virtually everything is a Dutch Uncle Game – including the management of the day-to-day thriving. The point is that the social contact will have some agenda, and advancing that goal by the management of the space and the people is the Dutch Uncle’s job.

3. Wide open agenda, just having fun? The white side of the token is up: Come join us! Tightly-focused agenda, aimed at getting something accomplished? The black side of the token is showing to put other people on notice: You can join us if there is space, but if your contributions are not productive, the Dutch Uncle is obliged to insist that you depart – in the nicest possible way.

That’s it. The Dutch Uncle sets the agenda – something specific or just about anything – and he controls the space by his immigration and expulsion policies. Any other rules – including turning the medallion over mid-game – are his to set, with the understanding that his immigrants can emigrate at will. A Dutch Uncle is the boss of that space, yes, but new Dutch Uncles will (more…)

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Cinderella’s memories of the zoo.

A Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Willie story

October 22, 1996

Cinderella was in a snit, and who could blame her? She was an orphan swarmed by a family of strangers, accidental intimates, pushy and intrusive and unwelcome. And the most distant stranger of all was the original Prince Charming, the man she had expected would always be beside her.

Physically distant, too, for he led the little brood, prancing on the balls of his feet, ostentatiously trying too hard, while Cinderella dragged her small feet at the rear, palpably punishing Prince Charming. Once he flounced back and tried to jolly her into joining them, into becoming one with them, but she blew him off with a furious shake of her head, horse-whipping him symbolically with her imperious, impetuous, long brown hair.

And something tells me it’s all happening at the zoo. I was sitting on a bench watching the Galapagos tortoises fornicate, a surprisingly delicate, amazingly time-consuming process. The post-modern delegation from the Brothers Grimm came trundling up the path, and they made a fine exhibit, too.

Only a fool would call them a family. They were a composite, an ungainly grafting of two diseased trees. If you keep your eyes open you can spot them all over, whisper-shouting through clenched teeth at the mall, squabbling over dinner at Denny’s, caucusing in sub-groups at gas stations and national parks. He’s responsible for his kids, if he has any, and she’s responsible for hers, and the children, ultimately, answer to no one. Very sad. Very stupid. Very common.

I didn’t pay them any mind, not then. If you’ve seen one tragedy, you’ve seen one too many. But I caught up with them again on the Zoo Train, a sea serpent’s idea of the ideal golf cart, designed for people who would rather sit than see the animals. And I didn’t go looking for trouble, neither; I was sitting peacefully, placidly, blessedly alone when they invaded me. I was waiting for the train ride to begin, and they tumbled into the row of benches ahead of mine, puncturing the quiet with random and raucous thrusts of sound.

The Wicked Stepmother was not (more…)

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#ThriversEd is (also) a brand new (baby) media empire – and I have a project to commission.

I wrote that caption – and then… I had an idea…

Yesterday in an image caption, I said:

If #BlackLivesMatter, why has no one made an animated TV series out of the life and times of Frederick Douglass? When the #ThriversEd content empire is big enough, we’ll do this – and do it right.

And that, all of it, is exactly right: There should be all kinds of media about Frederick Douglass, where now there is little beyond research tomes, and ThriversEd – me, we, us – is the right way to get that job done. I don’t want to show Douglass to black children, though that is hugely worthwhile, but to all children – and all adults, for that matter. And what I want to show is how a determined oak grows out from under a slab of broken sidewalk.

That’s a whole genre of kid-lit that doesn’t much exist any longer, the inspirational biography. As discussed, I’m not interested in promoting a one-size-fits-none ‘ideal man,’ but I love the idea of regular consistent portrayals of inspirational role models. And I love them every which way – as books, as TV or cinema, as interactive fiction (that’s video games to you) – you name the medium and I want to be there.

This is not work I can do – much too C for a D like me – but it’s work I can manage – arguably better than anyone, taking account that no one is doing anything like this now. And last night, I worked out a praxis to get the best cinematic experience out of the best literary experience, but all that’s just details – the production flow, as it were.

The big news is here: I have a project to commission for a writer-for-hire: A kid-lit biography of Frederick Douglass.

If you can do this, I’ll edit it, publish it and promote it – ultimately, ideally, into a TV series or a film and beyond.

You’re not that writer? I know I’m not, either. But you can still help to make this possible. How? Cultivate thriving.

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If there is only one The One – it ain’t you. The myth – and the menace – of the idea of the ‘ideal man.’

Bad news, kids. If there is only one The One – it ain’t you.Photo by: Tommy Wong

When you search for a new home to live in, you think you’re looking to select The One, the winner, the answer to all your hopes, dreams wishes and prayers.

This is not so. What you’re actually doing is eliminating all the rejects, ultimately selecting the home that is least objectionable to you. You’re questing not for Prince Charming but for Prince Adequate or Prince Acceptable.

Same for an Olympic swim team or a job search: You can only live in one house, hire one CFO or add one anchor leg to your relay team. So you shop, you compare, you filter, you sift, you sort and ultimately you settle, hoping that you have not made a costly error.

If you did that with your dairy farm, in short order your ‘herd’ would consist of one prize heifer and nothing else.

That’s the essence of Flowerboxing – the quest for The One – and it illuminates the error of elitism in education: There are seven billion of us, and we’re ALL perfect. Neglecting the cultivation of the overwhelming majority of children in order to shop obsessively for only the most-thoroughly-indoctrinated specimens is to ladle repeated tragedy upon perpetual catastrophe.

Because the C/I model of education is so thoroughly broken, the ‘elite’ it selects is composed of very broken people – Ci/INTJs who have been worked so brutally hard that they have drastically diminished reserves of human compassion. But any other ‘elite’ model would also fail. Why? Because there is no elite, there are just individual people who are better or worse at particular things – and who step up or run away at unpredictable intervals.

The idea of the ‘ideal man’ – whether that’s Jesus, Mohammed or Howard Roark – frustrates more ideals than it inspires. Whatever their virtues or faults, each of those guys was a rare bird. Holding them up as role models might (or might not) be a good idea. Representing them as perfect-performance models is absurd, insane and enormously destructive.

Why? For the same (more…)

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Big things are made of little things. Sharing big ideas with little people will yield big results.

If #BlackLivesMatter, why has no one made an animated TV series out of the life and times of Frederick Douglass? When the #ThriversEd content empire is big enough, we’ll do this – and do it right.

If you’re looking for a summary the ThriversEd idea, it’s hard to do better than Frederick Douglass:

“It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.”

We talked about why this is so yesterday.

Today, I launched a Patreon campaign in support of the ThriversEd idea.

What am I up to? I’m redeeming Western Civilization, just like I’ve said all along.

In the past days(, weeks(, months(, years(, decades)))), I finally worked out how to do it – The Frederick Douglass way: Start strong, stay strong.

Why a Patreon campaign? Time and efficiency. I’m working out how to build an infinitely-scalable Dutch Uncle – and I want to make him scale.

You do, too, though you may not know that yet. So far as I know, there are zero other ideas out there for turning our ship-of-fools around. Easy to see why everything else fails: We’ve all been talking to the wrong people – grown-ups.

But where adults rarely change their habits, Toddlers soak up what you teach them. Strong Toddlers will become strong children, strong tweens, teens and adults.

Broken people breed broken people. To stop this cycle of pain, we have to stop breaking children. That’s what ThriversEd aims to do – to give each child we embrace a better shot at growing up whole and happy by teaching him how thrive for himself.

Do you want to make a difference? Support ThriversEd – and get your friends to pitch in, too.

Big things are made of little things. Sharing big ideas with little people will yield big results in time.

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My dawning mind: Polyglots, Marxist mirth and further thoughts on satire.

Jokes can be made out of love or malice, but every joke is a weapon – even a love-tap. Who is satire’s victim? At whom is the weapon aimed?

Photo by: Mike Mozart

I’ve been chatting on Facebook this early morning with Sindre Paulsen, a young man in Norway who inspires me simply by breathing: I love knowing that he’s there, steadfastly chipping his way out of Plato’s Cave. And if you want to meet exclusively brilliant people, filter for folks doing philosophy in a tongue learned in school, not at home.

As part of our conversation, I ended up writing three raucous jokes about Marxism, and I’ll share them with you here, by way of Twitter:

I’ve known for years that satire is evil, but I only this week figured out why:

1. Everything that is decried as being “as addictive as cocaine!!!” is actually an habituated evasion.

2. Satire is the habituated evasion of the biological (and, hence, moral) imperative either to fight or to flee existential peril.

3. Ergo, satire amounts to dancing with the devil: Quarrying your own eventual homicidal extermination for your immediate, temporary amusement.

Jokes can be made out of love or malice, but every joke is a weapon – even a love-tap. Who is satire’s victim? At whom is the weapon aimed?

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You say: “Everything is new to a child!” #ThriversEd says: “First impressions are lasting.”

Everything is new to a child? You bet. Better still, first impressions are lasting. It’s daft to teach bad habits-of-mind to kids by negligent default, but it is very wise to teach them how to thrive instead.Photo by: Chad Hutto

“Everything is new to a child!” That’s something people say all the time, but I’m not sure they really think about what it means.

Here is what I hear in those words: To an Infant/Baby/Toddler/Child, every new thing is all-the-way new – and, accordingly, all-the-way everything. For a while, at least, the new person/place/thing/event/experience has no companions with which to compare it. It is sui generis, ne plus ultra – unique, irreducible and plausibly mesmerizing.

That matters to me, because stuff like that sticks with you. Call it imprinting, call it influence or simply call it a big show on a small stage, first impressions are lasting – and aboriginal impressions can last a lifetime.

Accordingly: If Toddlers and Children learn to go at things the ThriversEd way, they’ll never approach anything any other way, for the rest of their lives.

Simply getting there first does most of the heavy lifting, but we’re getting there first with a strategy, a plan and an ever-growing sheaf of tactics – all aimed at getting children to lead themselves along the D/S DISC axis, instead of being led, with catastrophically-diminishing success over time, toward the C/I alignment.

The “why” of C/I? Was Marx that prescient, that obstinate or did he just get lucky? That’s a question for another day. It remains that C/I education is exactly ass-backwards – completely opposed to everything that has worked in the past and that should work now – but it is remarkably successful at producing lifelong human misery for everyone afflicted by it.

ThriversEd comes at everything the other way – starting simply by impressing the verb “to thrive” on young minds again and again. A mastery of that one idea might be enough for a child to be able to undertake his own upbringing, but there is lots more we can do.

I talked about The Marshmallow Challenge last night, and (more…)

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Can’t wait to find out about The Marshmallow Challenge? Hang in there. It’s worth it.

What do you plan to do when you win The Marshmallow Challenge?Photo by: Jim, the Photographer

The Marshmallow Challenge is a very simple ThriversEd game, the classic psychological experiment turned into a group self-improvement praxis:

Two or more kids compete, head-to-head, sitting across a table from each other, each being stared down by his own treat, to see who can delay gratification for fifteen minutes.

This is a public and sporting-event-like contest, and every Challenger plus the game’s Dutch Uncle can be PEAKed. Fifteen minutes is a long time, so younger kids might play for shorter durations, and other activities can be going on to keep things from getting boring.

I like very small cookies as the treat, rather than marshmallows, but miniatures can work, too. In any case, a little sugar in a Toddler goes a long way.

The game scores like this:

If there are zero successful Challengers, each gets his own treat, by default, at the time of his opting out of the game.

If there are one or more successful Challengers, those who succeed get a second treat as their reward for delaying their gratification.

If all Challengers are successful, each gets the second treat, and each of the PEAK evaluators gets a treat, too, for being a part of such an awesome experience. Why? Say this as a chant: “When everyone wins – EVERYONE wins!”

A note about orientation: C/I education makes rivals, D/S education makes friends.

What the original marshmallow experiment actually measures is the quality of a child’s upbringing – the consistent, habituated expectations his parents have for him from birth. Highly Cautious and Driven parents raise children who are well-practiced in delay-gratification. Incandescent and Sociable parents less so. The Marshmallow Challenge evens up the odds by giving all children regular practice weighing the costs and benefits of delaying rewards.

The kids who are already Driven or Cautious probably won’t improve much – although they will love playing – but the Sociables, in particular, will show huge gains in very short order.

Endurance, patience, tolerance, forbearance – these are not innate qualities but learned virtues. The Marshmallow Challenge – either this formal (more…)

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Wanna make it big as a Hollywood screenwriter? Just take a weed-whacker to every testicle you see.

“Hey, hey, hey! Who’s your daddy?”Photo by: Mike Mozart

Hollywood hates fathers. Who knew?

Just kidding. It’s an evergreen story, one that comes up every 18 months or so: ‘TV dads are dopes, dupes and dumb-asses.’ This trenchant essay is based on eight whole hours of intense TV-watching research, so strap yourself in tight before you click the link.

Meanwhile, for the benefit of anyone who wants to break into show-biz on the ugly-peoples’ side of the table, here are the rules for writing a Hollywood father:

1. A Hollywood dad can be absent, awful, inept or unrelated. Inept is the one that’s decried all the time, but actual screen-time for father-figures is almost always unrelated men – step-dads, boyfriends and especially mom’s own father – who, amazingly enough, is present, conscientious, competent and family-by-blood.

2. A man raising children in film or on TV cannot be a father: Masculine, firm, sure-footed, resolute, courtly, wise, fore-sighted, patient, tolerant, wry.

3. In his choices and behaviors, a present-and-ongoing Hollywood dad must simulate either an hysterical woman or a helpless child – or ideally both.

What’s the agenda?

• Much writing, like all Marxism, is patricide-by-proxy, so the kid going one-up one his dumb-ass dad again and again could just be more of the incessant puerile rebellion that makes the “entertainment” “business” possible.

• Arguably, Disney and others are grooming children wholesale for future exploitation. By undermining fatherhood, they weaken moral standards even as they displace morality’s real-world avenger.

• Everything of Marxism requires the elimination of the Hoplite father from the homestead, so continuously undermining fatherhood greases the works of the soul-shredding machinery.

• Best bet: The sleazy selling crazy to the lazy. “Entertainment” media is an habituated evasion – all of which are ‘as addictive as cocaine!!!’ What is being evaded by the “entertainment”? Self-responsible adulthood, including thoroughgoing parenthood. By what means? By ridiculing thoughtful maturity, especially masculine maturity.

There definitely IS a nefarious motive behind that: Rent-seeking. A world of adult-babies promises only catastrophe tomorrow – but look at all the corn chips and beer they’re buying today!

So: Whatever the agenda, it’s working. And the opportunity is ripe: It’s (more…)

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Education can deliver Splendor for all kids, not just a prosperous misery for the “lucky” few.

Life’s a dance. Who knew?

Photo by: PICS by MARTY

Only two percent of American children, at best, actually benefit from all the education we throw at them. The rest are flowerboxed, in one way or another, somewhere along the gauntlet we run them though.

Most are left in the state of Squalor they were born into: Illiterate in any way that could make a difference and qualified for zero tasks that require qualifications. Most of the rest are given what amounts to Occupational Therapy: They are taught just enough to be stood in a corner and forgotten for life.

Here’s what’s worse: Even the “lucky” few who are actually allowed to cultivate the mind to some degree are still miserable for life. Having communed with the great minds who came before us, they know that educated people dance in the gardens of reason – but they also know they ain’t dancing.

It’s easy to see why: The values hierarchy of the entire educational establishment is upside down. Instead of praising and rewarding all students for expressing their humanity, we focus only on the very most reptilian strengths of the very most reptilian children, pushing them into high-paying jobs as the next generation of mammal-herders.

Most children are never permitted to grow much beyond the charming mammals they are born as. The “lucky” few are warped into gruesome reptiles – with long-tailed resumés to whip the mammals into line. And everyone is miserable…

This is easy to fix. DISC – human character and personality – is cultivated. Right now, we are bending over backwards to cultivate a very few Ci/INTJ nerds to be our ruling class – and throwing all the other children away. If instead we refocus education to cultivate Ds/Sd virtues and values in all children, then all children will be educated so well that they all will dance in Splendor.

Now: Education for almost none, with lifelong misery for all.

My way: Education for all, misery for none.

And all we have to do is turn around.

This is news. Everything else is noise. Get caught up.

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Why would anyone play volleyball without a net? How PEAK performance leads to peak humanity.

Q: What do you get when you play volleyball without a net?A: Better.Photo by: Hanna Norlin

I wrote the other day about ThriversEd as “a wide-open volleyball-without-a-net experience.” If you can imagine playing volleyball without a net, what would be the challenge for the players? Not ending the volley, to score a point, but keeping it alive, to score a victory for everyone involved.

Children are cultivated, to the extent they are, in Cautious and Driven displays, especially Ci catalogings of facts: “What does the cow say?” “What does the owl say?” This serves over time to make them competitive and cruel, and it erects the cautious tyranny by which the promise of education is revoked for 98% of everyone. The PEAK scoring matrix leads kids the other way, over time, toward cooperation and kindness – toward peak humanity, for life, for everyone involved.

First the bad news, me from Shyly’s delight:

So: Why did your daughter tell you every week how much she hated piano lessons until she finally dug in her heels and quit, never playing again? It’s because you and her piano teacher entered into an unwitting conspiracy to penalize her incessantly for failing to produce faithful note-for-note mimicry of desiccated sheet music, instead of helping her learn to love music as Shyly would have, if she could have, by living it from the inside out. Technical mastery requires immense motivation, the motivation you killed before it could even take root by insisting that a tiny green shoot is less than nothing if it cannot instantly tower among ancient oaks. If we trained our dogs like this, their spirits – and their tails – would be down all the time, too.

Find the love for life your dog never lives a day without at Amazon.com:Shyly’s delight: Work, play and love like a Labrador.

And this is all of education, of course. The Cautious students excel academically. Why wouldn’t they? They read all the material, do all the assignments and follow all the rules. They are the perfect pets for a Cautious tyranny. And the Incandescents shine (more…)

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A big-picture picture of ThriversEd: A talk-show for toddlers, stone soup with marshmallows.

What is ThriversEd? It’s a new way to play. Toddlers who master it will play better at everything – for life.Photo by: yorkd

I wrote this morning about the PEAK scoring matrix, which is a critical piece of the ThriversEd idea. In that post, I discussed but did not name the game Stone Soup, for which PEAK evaluations are to be deployed. All of that amounts to describing the components of the transmission with no clear picture of the car, so please permit me to amend that deficit.

So: What is ThriversEd?

It’s a way of playing with Toddlers that might look an awful lot like a talk show to an afternoon TV watcher: Lots of music and dancing, recurring structured activities (including Stone Soup), regular audience interaction.

At its most basic, ThriversEd is an activities program for a playground or day-care center: Busking with busy-ness. Picture a doofus who looks a lot like me with an acoustic guitar and a quick wit. Rock ’n’ Roll to induce dancing to a temporary torpor, Stone Soup, The Marshmallow Challenge or some other game, chat, rinse and repeat.

That is the indispensable essence of ThriversEd, beyond which everything else is a frill: A cyclic structured EduPlay by way of BuskerTainment. As a curriculum, it is actively and overtly didactic, but it is ecumenical except for the explicit doctrinal strategy: Cultivating Ds/Sd habits of mind in Toddlers, all as the means of teaching them to thrive by habituated thriving. And every bit of this will look like very fun play to kids.

Accordingly, ThriversEd is broadly horizontal: Appropriate authority is earned and fungible (as with The Dutch Uncle Game), and evaluations can move in all directions, regardless of age or status. Meanwhile, the content is understood to be emergent, organic and crowd-sourced: Except for the guitar and the quick wit, most of the fun will be created by the kids themselves, in the moment. That is: Not a top-down, artist/teacher-aims-at-audience structure, but rather a wide-open volleyball-without-a-net experience, where many people contribute to make a satisfying whole.

Note that I consistently refer to Toddlers as people. That matters (more…)

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Habituating peak performance: A quick peek at the PEAK scoring matrix.

How do you learn how to thrive?Photo by: Anne Berit Heggem

I’m juggling a whole bunch of ideas I call ThriversEd, a sort of pre-pre-school curriculum for very young children – say 18 through 72 months, with the sweet spot being the Toddler years, ages 2 to 5.

How can anyone do a curriculum for people who can’t talk yet? Hide and watch.

Here’s a piece of it, a scoring matrix, and this can apply to any sort of evaluation, not just kid stuff.

I call it PEAK, which is acronymic for Proficient, Efficient, Appealing and Kind.

In ThriversEd, anyone can do a PEAK scoring of any work of the mind, with the goal being to provide feedback, thus to goad improvement over time.

Hence, each evaluation matters, as does the aggregate of all of the evaluations, but the score that will matter most, over time, will be the relative change in evaluations. By doing many presentations, over time, each Thriver will be able to coach his own growth.

The PEAK score is broken down in these proportions:

Proficient = 10% of the final score
Efficient = 20% of the final score
Appealing = 30% of the final score
Kind = 40% of the final score

The DISC strategy behind that could not be more bald: We are scoring, every time, for Doing, Showing, Sharing and Scrupling. The fact of getting the whole job done will promote Driven and Cautious virtues, but working hard for the Incandescent and Sociable values will repay effort. Each individual is induced, over time, to work harder where he is weakest, with everyone being gently and gradually moved toward the Ds/Sd DISC alignment.

Here’s a way of evaluating the evaluation categories:

A work is proficient when it does what it sets about to do. It is efficient when it does that job in a way that seems most logical and direct – maximal payoff with minimal waste. It is appealing when it delights the senses and the mind. And it is kind when it deepens human connections.

I anticipate kids doing presentations and demonstrations – like Toastmasters For Toddlers, one minute per each year of age – (more…)

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Prufrock’s honor…

Diner Mood
There is worthiness, which is difficult; it can never be supplied by another, and it can never be faked. And there is worship, which is demanding; you can fake the virtues the worshipper worships, but you dare not falter. And then there is adulation, which is very, very easy; it is wholly faked, and the price is never higher than quid pro quo.

Chris JL / Foter.com / CC BY-NC-ND

A Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Willie story

June 21, 1996

In the end the men and women come and go, betraying everyone they know…

Prufrock stood and bowed slightly, holding out his arm like the maître d’ at Aldo’s Pasta Bar. In a vague and broken voice, he sang, “Isn’t it romantic?”

Surely as romantic as any strip mall diner during the lunch rush.

Madame Bovary gave the smallest nod, a niggardly morsel of attention. She slid her considerable self into the booth and picked up the menu, leaving Prufrock to clean up his own grand gesture.

“How’s your day going?” Madame Bovary asked without looking up from the menu.

“Not too good. Mitch called me into his office just as I was leaving.”

“Oh?”

Prufrock rubbed absently at his sparse moustache. He’s a vague man altogether, not quite anything at all. His hair is not quite red and not quite orange and not quite pink. It might have been clean, but it didn’t look it; it fell off his head in greasy strands. He’s bald in the most depressing way, the infinite forehead, and, perhaps to compensate, he wears a pony-tail. Not one of those silly braided yuppie pony-tails, but a full shock of hair tied up with a rubber band — uncut, unstyled, unkempt. And his hair, seemingly, is the metaphor of his life. His face is ugly, which is nobody’s fault, but it is also painted with vague reminders of his unkempt emotional life — covetousness, petulance and a boundless resentment. His clothes were of good quality but a little rumpled, a little crumpled; I thought I caught a whiff of the hamper, but I could be mistaken.

“He actually accused me of having a drug problem,” Prufrock said. “Can you believe (more…)

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Bidding farewell to Shale with a bid for her immortality.

By yearning so relentlessly, Shale showed us all of life.

Shale, léminence grise you see to the right, is dying as I write this. She’s been with us for 19 years, and in that time she taught me more than I ever hoped to know about human (actually all animal) motivation.

I gave her name to the verb I coined to denote the kind of behavior she taught me to watch for: Shaling. From the Willie story Emily Brownbangs at the conception of guile, here is an extended definition of shaling:

Shaling is a word I made up. I named it after a cat of ours – Shale – who turned a commode into her actual throne, the seat of her elaborate cargo cult in and of our guest bathroom.

Looked at as behavior subject to observation, to shale is to window-shop obsessively, and the most aggressive shaling of the train consists of fondling it when it’s parked back at the station. Toddlers will toddle over to inspect and then touch the train. Tentatively and fearfully at first. It’s a benevolent dragon, but it’s still a dragon, after all. But, then, in time, they will caress the lacquered coaches with a loving devotion, the way dad might lovingly caress a sports car – or lovingly caress mom, for that matter!

Shaling is yearning, a wanting that doesn’t stop, but shaling is a way of working to satisfy or at least palliate that desire, too. In the imagination of the kid – or of anyone – the shaling behavior will somehow result in the realization of the dream.

And: Bingo, bango, bongo: The cargo cults I promised you emerge, each one unique to the cultist.

I’m talking about the kids at the mall, but I’m talking about their parents, too. I’m talking about you and me and everyone: We all do this – whether it’s shiny ladies hob-nobbing over snobby baubles or their lonely husbands lingering over the catalogs of virtual companionship online.

Whatever it is, cats or cameras or bison or boats, if you want it badly enough, you’ll work to get it – ideally in a way that can (more…)

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