photography – Life on the Wicked Stage: Act 3

Warming Up a Bit

Watching and learning

Starting to warm up a bit. We might have touched 40 degrees Fahrenheit today on our journey back from a short weekend visit with the grandkids. Hope the trend continues, so we can all head outdoors again.

Two young children stand indoors at a sliding glass door, seen from behind, pressing their hands to the glass as they look out at a sunlit wooden deck and snow-covered backyard.

It’s such a joy to watch these two, two years apart, come into their own, watch them learn, watch them learn how to learn, watch them fail, watch them succeed. We only get brief periods of time with them to see that unfold, but we’ve enjoyed three successive trips merely a few weeks apart and seen such growth in each 3-week separation.

Given all the talk of a world of AI that supposedly will set us free (don’t think of that necessarily being in a good context), from having to think, learn, and discover on our own, when, or at what age would that kick in?

Admittedly an unfair example, here, But, after watching these two (spurred on by the older brother) beg to go outside, go through the rigamarole of getting bundled up, only to get outside and discover that it was indeed too cold to have any fun, I’m not sure we want to shortcut any human learning process. For any group at any age.

You can also find more of my writings on a variety of topics on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. I can also be found on social media under my name as above.

Tim Cook Captured, Trapped, and Caged

Tough to be a performing monkey in a cage

Om Malik has a great piece about Tim Cook and Apple’s current fail mode when it comes to dealing with the Trump administration called A CEO, Captured. M.G. Siegler sees Cook as trapped in his post Aside From That Mr. Cook, What Did You Think of the Movie?

Artem bryzgalov DaC_1AZEscY unsplash.

If you haven’t been paying attention, Cook has indeed seemingly been captured by his efforts to hang onto Apple’s success in the face of the Trump administration’s intent to drag everyone into his ever increasing cesspool view of the world. Attending the premiere of the Amazon produced film Melania on the night that Alex Pretti was murdered in Minneapolis is just the latest in a series of what can politely be called missteps by Cook, but in my view more appropriately called sucking up out of naked and unabashed fear.

Cook, hearing the large number of complaints about his latest knee bending issued a memo to Apple employees expressing his heartbreak over the events in Minneapolis and notes that he had a good conversation with the president about trying to deescalate the situation. From the reactions I’ve seen nobody is buying it. Issuing memos designed to be leaked is another cowardly PR move, certainly from a company once admired for its supposed civic conscience.

Sure, corporations are corporations and do what they need to do to protect their market share and shareholders. You can make that argument with assurance until the MBAs are all penned up in the same pasture. But when you’ve built much of your success by heavily marketing civic engagement, and I dare say a civic conscience, it becomes not just a dent in that hard earned reputation, but a tougher row to hoe going forward. But we are living in the age of melting myths and laughing at legends.

Malik posits:

When your company is worth more than most nations, you cannot afford principles that inconvenience presidents. The moral equation changes. What once seemed unthinkable becomes necessary. Cook learned this the hard way after he skipped a presidential photo op and was thrown back under the tariff bus. So now he shows up. He sits in the front row. He claps when expected. This is what happens when valuation becomes destiny.

Siegler says Cook should have pulled out of the event and “has lost his way,” and probably should wait out Trump or the GOPs defeats before passing on his dimmed torch.

I don’t disagree with Malik or Siegler. But if you carry the captured analogy further it makes one wonder if reaching the top doesn’t just turn you into just another zoo animal behind bars.

I wonder if they teach that in business school.Photo by Artem Bryzgalov on Unsplash

Light In The Dark

In The Bleak Midwinter

The unceasing tumult of insane happenings continue rolling in, like a relentless pounding of waves threatening to drown us all. It’s enough to make you look for even the slightest glimmer of light in the darkness.

I’m not sure such a glimmer exists. To my way of thinking what’s happening can only continue to get worse until something, anything breaks in a way that no one is going to be able to control. It’s wretched enough that I find myself hoping that happens each morning.

The history of humankind proves that however this reaches a conclusion, that climax and its denouement will make its crescendo seem almost palpably tame by comparison. And, as we’ve proven and continue to prove, we’re certainly no smarter and no better than those who’ve screwed things up in the past.

Sorry for the bleakness. But it’s how I’m feeling things in the middle of this cold, darkening winter. These days remind me of the first stanza of Christina Rossetti’s poem, originally published in 1872 under the title A Christmas Carol.

In the bleak midwinter
frosty wind made moan,
earth stood hard as iron,
water like a stone:
snow had fallen,
snow on snow, snow on snow,
in the bleak midwinter,
long ago.

Although today does not feel so long ago.

(image taken by the author)

Sunday Morning Reading

Inquire and think for yourself

Whew. Regular readers here will know that since the middle of December we’ve been spending time helping my daughter and her family move into a new house, with an interim stop to an Airbnb over the holidays until the new place was ready. It’s been as chaotic as any move could be, multiplied by the antics of our two grandchildren who had their small worlds turned upside down. The chaos didn’t allow for much Sunday Morning Reading, but here we are again, playing a little catch up as well as looking ahead. As much as anybody can look ahead these days.

What Just Happened? That title for Andrea Pitzer’s piece sort of explains the look I see on most people’s faces during the events of this January. If it seems like too much to think about. That’s because it is. Think on it.

Brian Merchant’s Abolish The Senses plays on the same themes and the dismay we’re all feeling.

“Do math. Check your facts.” That’s the message from Neil Steinberg in Wrapping Our Heads Around A Trillion, Now That The Alphabet is Worth $4,000,000,000,000. Don’t let others think for you.

Dealing with much smaller numbers, NatashaMH’s Five Dollars For Catastrophe explains how a $5 book about genocide can offer much more value, should you actually inquire and think for yourself. Words have meaning folks.

And while I’m linking to posts on the numbers, let’s talk gambling. Apparently it’s reaching epidemic proportions and you can bet on when the USA is going to invade other countries, among other catastrophic outcomes these days. Especially if you’re in the know. Saahil Desai says America Is Slow-Walking Into A Polymarket Disaster. I’m not so sure about the slow-walking part.

If gambling is betting on predictions, Artificial Intelligence, with its ability to predict the next word ought to be able to figure out most outcomes ahead of time. It’s all math, right? Remember that earlier admonition to think for yourself? While doing so, check out Steven Adler’s AI Isn’t “Just Predicting The Next Word” Anymore.

Are Tech Companies Allies Or A Threat To Press Freedom? I’m not spoiling Emily Bell’s conclusions with the obvious answer, because the piece is about more than that.

Jill Lepore explores How Originalism Killed The Constitution. It’s an earlier piece that contains context that most have no idea about. I’d suggest finding out.

Speaking of killing things, Russel Berman and Elaine Godfrey ask the simple question, Does Congress Even Exist Anymore? Applying the Ian Betteridge law of headlines, that any headline that ends in a question mark can be answered by the word no, you don’t have to guess at my answer. Berman and Godrey call it a fast fade. I call it a slow self-suicide.

Closing out this week, I’m pointing to a venture from a raconteur I feature here often, David Todd McCarty. He’s gathering up his words and images from over the years on a new website. David is quite a storyteller. If you think for yourself, I suggest you pay attention. For a taste check out David Dreams Of Everything.

Go Bears!

(Image from Rey Seven on Unsplash)

If you’re interested in just what the heck Sunday Morning Reading is all about you can read more about the origins of Sunday Morning Reading here. If you’d like more click on the Sunday Morning Reading link in the category column to check out what’s been shared on Sunday’s past. You can also find more of my writings on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome.

The Grandkids Fill The New Digs With Laughter

When you move into a new place one of the things you notice is how sound echoes around an empty house. Especially when there are little ones who love to run at what seems the speed of light, laughing at levels that set off Apple Watch loud enviornment warnings.

Today the movers arrive at my daughter and her famiiy’s new digs. As the place fills up with furniture and the stuff of living, the echoes will diminish, but the volume won’t as the new digs will still be overflowing with the sounds of laughter and life. We’re still mostly on babysitting duty, thus the grandkids first coloring session with Grandma waiting for the movers to do their thing.