So many news items these days are so hurtful and divisive. But today, to brighten your weekend, I thought I’d share a couple of feel-good stories, from the ridiculous to the sublime. The first is from L.A. – see on Instagram, here – where Lady Gaga’s two French bulldogs were returned unharmed after a dog-napping last week in which a dog walker was shot and seriously injured.
Koji & Gustav @ beach. Reward for their return was a cool half-mil.
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The second story comes from half a world away on the border between Kosovo and Serbia. That’s where a man-made lake is being renamed and centuries-old tensions are being eased by a certain former POTUS. I’ll leave the lake’s new name out of it. But you are welcome to get the full story here if you wish. Ya just gotta love it when the flash-point for so much national bitterness becomes a touchstone for international reconciliation.
Today’s Word of the Day is “megillah.” See here from Merriam Webster. Or see below for the complete story, AKA “the whole megillah.”
Though megillah is a slang word in English, it has perfectly respectable Hebrew origins. Megillah derives from the Yiddish megile. This comes from the Hebrew mĕgillāh, meaning “scroll” or “volume.” Mĕgillāh is especially likely to be used in reference to the Book of Esther. This is what’s often read aloud at Purim celebrations. It makes sense, then, that when megillah first appeared in English in the mid-20th century, it referred to a story that was so long and complicated, it reminded people of the length of the mĕgillāh scrolls. The Hebrew word is serious. But the Yiddish megile can be somewhat playful. Our megillah has inherited that lightheartedness.
Used in a sentence
“The only thing that could interest me is if I could win. I’m not talking about the nomination. I’m talking about the whole megillah.”
— Donald Trump
Bonus cartoon content
If you are of a certain age, you may remember a certain Saturday morning Hanna-Barbera cartoon called “Magilla Gorilla.” I didn’t know the meaning of “the whole megillah” at the time. And probably the only reason for the title character’s name is that a writer/producer spoke Yiddish. Plus, it’s a convenient rhyme for “gorilla.” Still, it does take me back to a time when I was 5 years old. Then, I could be entertained by a plot line that included nothing more than a pet-store gorilla who kept getting bought and returned, then resold again in the next episode, after failing miserably at life in the outside world. See here for a memory refresher if you’ve forgotten. Or if you never knew in the first place.
Whenever I see the name “Crispin Sartwell” on the Opinion Pages, my ears always perk up. Not just because he’s a kick-ass philosopher who plies his trade in Carlisle, PA – the town where I was born. And not just because it’s a great name in and of itself. (I mean, c’mon. If he went by “John Smith” do you really think anyone would take note?) But mostly because he’s usually got something interesting to say. And he always says it so well.
For instance, he did a WSJ piece on migrant Adams county apple-pickers a while back that really raised some eyebrows in my natal land. And now comes this, titled “Humans are Animals. Let’s Get Over it.” And the byline to set the hook and draw us in? “It’s astonishing how relentlessly Western philosophy has strained to prove we are not squirrels.” O man. This is gonna be fun.
Is that YOU, Crispin Sartwell?
A sample.
If one were to read through the prefaces and first paragraphs of the canonical works of Western philosophy, one might assume the discipline’s primary question to be this: What makes us humans so much better than all the other animals? Really, it’s astonishing how relentless this theme is in the whole history of philosophy. The separation of people from, and the superiority of people to, members of other species is a good candidate for the originating idea of Western thought. And a good candidate for the worst.
The Great Philosopher will, before addressing himself to the deep ethical and metaphysical questions, pause for the conventional, ground-clearing declaration: “I am definitely not a squirrel.” This is evidently something that needs continual emphasis.
Rationality and self-control, as philosophers underline again and again, give humans a value that squirrels lack, a moral status unique to us. We are conscious, and squirrels, allegedly, are not. Rational, and squirrels are not. Free, and squirrels are not.
We can congratulate ourselves on the threat averted. But if we truly believed we were so much better than squirrels, why have we spent thousands of years driving home the point?
I won’t spoil it for you. Click the link if you’re so inclined.
But to sum up, here’s the ending.
There is no doubt that human beings are distinct from other animals, though not necessarily more distinct than other animals are from one another. But maybe we’ve been too focused on the differences for too long. Maybe we should emphasize what all us animals have in common. Our resemblance to squirrels doesn’t have to be interpreted as a threat to our self-image. Instead, it could be seen as a hopeful sign that we will someday be better at tree leaping.
We saw this stately specimen on our walk along the High Line Canal yesterday. I estimate maybe 80′ tall and 80 years old – just a guess? If you’re up for it, lots of fascinating background on the Plains Cottonwood can be found here, here, and here. Or, much shorter, click the link here for the famous offering from Joyce Kilmer.
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“I think that I shall never see; a poem lovely as a tree…”
There’s an old adage that goes like this. Once is an accident. Twice is a coincidence. But three times? That’s a pattern. See DP story, here. Yesterday I asked my buddy who lives in Broomfield, “Got debris?” He replied with, “You know I lead a charmed life.” Hey, more power to ya, friend. As for me, I fly out of DIA again this Friday. And while I always make it a practice not to sit in the “death seat” like the one that killed Jennifer Riordan three years ago (see that story here), I guess I have to say that eventually there will come a third time. I just hope I’m indoors at home sitting by the fire when it happens.
A United Airlines Boeing 777 UA328 heads back to Denver International Airport for an emergency landing after a right engine failure shortly after takeoff on Saturday, February 20th, 2021. Debris from the engine failure fell into Broomfield, CO neighborhoods. The flight was headed to Honolulu, Hawaii from Denver. Photo Courtesy of Hayden Smith
BROOMFIELD, CO – FEBRUARY 20: A North Metro firefighter walks past a large piece of an airplane engine in a front yard on Elmwood St. near E. 13th Ave February 20, 2021. A United 777 airplane had an engine fail above and scattered parts over the entire nearby neighborhood. (Photo by Andy Cross/The Denver Post)
BROOMFIELD, CO – FEBRUARY 20: Truck seen after airplane engine debris fell from the sky February 20, 2021. (Photo by Kieran Nicholson/The Denver Post)
Seat choice is key.
Remember: Accident Coincidence Pattern. You been warned.
I know, I know: I could be getting all bent out of shape over Ted Cruz’s escape to Cancun during the recent Texas ice storm. Or I could be gloating over Rush Limbaugh’s final demise. But I’m not gonna do it. My heart’s just not in it. Instead, I’m gonna focus on some goofy corporate news you can use. Why? Because that’s just how I roll. Also, it’s my blog, my rules. You got a problem with that? Good. I didn’t think so. Now sit up straight and pay attention.
Click-bait stories like this one I usually skip over. But, I dunno, something about the words “Oreo Doomsday Vault” hooked me and drew me in. Just the thought of Oreos wrapped for posterity in mylar, locked inside a secret safe on a Norwegian island? Well, that appeals to my sweet tooth as well as my cockeyed sense of adventure. Also, it’s a cookie marketing man’s dream come true. So click and read, if you are so inclined. There are multiple stories about Elon Musk, of course: I consider him king of the corporate kooks. Also there is some good dirt on Facebook and Google, as well as Col. Sanders’ secret KFC recipe. But perhaps my favorite is Amazon’s “two-pizza rule,” reprinted below for your enjoyment.
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Pizza played a role in the foundational days of Amazon, when CEO Jeff Bezos was still just an online bookseller with a vision of world domination. Bezos knew smaller teams of people are more productive. The smaller the team, the less time it spends coordinating, and the more time it spends on the task at hand. Any company can scale up and down much much more easily if all that’s required is add or remove small teams from any given effort. Bezos established the two-pizza rule, which would become part of Amazon’s philosophical bedrock: Two pizzas should be enough to feed any team in one sitting. If more pizza is required, or if people are still hungry, the team is too big. Today, Amazon is the world’s biggest online retailer — but it’s actually just a huge collection of tiny teams. With pepperoni.
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All this and Oreos too – who could ask for anything more?
A polar vortex sweeps east across this great land. The weather forecast takes center stage on Presidents Day. And I for one couldn’t be happier as I sit by the fire reading stories like this one. It’s about a guy in Ukraine who staged a fake murder to get First Responders to come plow his driveway. Such creativity, such initiative, such drive. Utterly brilliant!
Best of all, talking heads fade into the background as the recent national unpleasantness gives way to perfect silence. That’s what comes when heated political rhetoric goes into hibernation and is supplanted by the best Mother Nature has to offer this time of year. Well, this time of year in the Northern Hemisphere at least. Now there’s a weather forecast I can get behind. Happy Presidents Day from Abe and George to all y’all – where ever you may be hunkered down.
I also get pictures from my kids showing snowfall across the globe, from the West Coast of the US to the West Midlands, UK – and Colorado in between too.
Meanwhile, back in Ukraine…
The man from the village of Grybova Rudnya now faces a fine of 119 hryvnias (3.50 euros; $4.30) for reporting a false complaint.
What’s WOTD + TDIH + HVD, I hear you ask? Well, it’s not just every day you get a 3-in-1. But today’s your lucky day. Notwithstanding the fact that the mercury outside reads 8 below zero this morning, it is still, after all, St. Valentine’s Day. Thus HVD, or Happy Valentine’s Day, Which brings us to TDIH (This Day in History) – see post from two years ago around this time. That one reminds us that today’s holiday is not a birthday, but rather a day for a beheading, and you can read all about it, here. Last but not least, there’s Word of the Day (WOTD) from Merriam Webster. That one is here and below, and it’s defined as “a song in celebration of a marriage.”
In 1595, the newly-wed Edmund Spenser wrote a poem to his young bride. He gave this poem the title Epithalamion, borrowing a Greek word for a song or poem in honor of a bride and bridegroom. Epithalamion, which eventually became established as an English word, can be traced to Greek words that mean “upon the bridal chamber.” A year later, Spencer was inspired to write another nuptial poem — this time in celebration of the marriages of the Earl of Worcester’s two daughters. But since the ceremonies had not yet taken place, he did not want to call it an epithalamion. After some reflection, Spencer decided to separate epi- from thalamion. He wed the latter with pro- (“before”), inventing a word that would become established in the language with the meaning “a song in celebration of a marriage.”
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So, Happy Prothalamion Day all you married lovebirds out there. And stay indoors, y’all. Because at 8 below, you’re liable to freeze off an essential part or two. Come to think of it, maybe that’s better than getting beheaded – but only by a little. I mean, no sense freezing your roses off if you don’t have to.
You see what happens? It’s a slow news day and the DP puts a story about “Blucifer” on the front page. Who or what is “Blucifer,” I hear you ask? Well, if you’ve ever been through DIA you’ll know it’s the electric-blue Mustang sculpture you pass on your way to Arrivals/Departures. He’s about 2 stories tall, has flaming red eyes, and let me tell you, if you’re not expecting an anatomically correct stallion standing on his hind legs glaring at you like he’s guarding the gates of hell – instead of the gates of Southwest Airlines – well, you may be in for a shock. And then there’s the back-story which – if I may be so bold – is even more bizarre. The DP’s version is here. My summary is below. Hold onto your hats, ladies and gents. The ride’s about to get a bit bumpy.
“Are we creating the world’s greatest airport, or preparing for the end of the world?” – DIA promo.
Blucifer’s sculptor, Luis Jimenez, was killed when a two-ton chunk of it fell on him during construction. Since “Mustang” debuted at DIA exactly 13 years ago today – on 2/11/2008 – the sculptor’s widow has devoted herself to protecting the statue’s image in memory of her late husband. And if all that’s not spooky enough for you, I invite you to DIA to get a load of those burning red eyes right after sunset. I guarantee you’ll understand why he would be called “Blucifer” even if he hadn’t pinned his creator against a pole, severing a major artery.
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Giant art in public places is a staple in many cities. Denver is also home to a big blue bear standing on its hind legs peering into a second story window of the Convention Center downtown. Though that one didn’t kill his creator, the sculptor – Lawrence Argent – has since died. But not before he also made a giant red rabbit leaping from the skylights on SMF’s main concourse.
I pass this guy every time I come to Sacramento and he’s not killed me… yet.
A mini version of the big blue bear adorns my bookshelf. He’s less fearsome under 2-stories tall.
There’s a “sculpture” made of abandoned luggage at SMF, which I find rather clever. Just hope a suitcase never falls on you, because even if it’s empty, it’s gotta leave a mark.
I had such fun with yesterday’s old-man post, it set me to thinking about Satchel Paige. He played pro baseball over 5 decades, mostly in the Negro Leagues. But he’s in the Hall of Fame, and is perhaps best remembered for a scoreless 3-inning stint he pitched for Kansas City at the age of 59. With age comes wisdom, and below is a collection of Satchel Paige’s finest. Enjoy, whether you’re old or not. And always remember: “If a man can beat you, walk him.”
Words to live by, all.
Which is your favorite?
A few bonus Satchel Paige quotes, below...
I never rush myself. See, they can’t start the game without me.
Don’t pray when it rains if you don’t pray when the sun shines.
Never be unfaithful to a lover, except with your wife.
Airplanes may kill you, but they ain’t likely to hurt you.
Don’t look back. Something might be gaining on you.
