House of Eratosthenes

You think your new car looks nice. I say it’s ugly. In your mind, I don’t know what I’m talking about. You know what else? I could say another car looks nice…and had you never met me, you would also think the other car is nice…but now, since I think your car is ugly, and this other car is nice, you’ll go so far as to decide the other car is ugly just because I said the opposite.

That’s a little bit screwy. But there’s more.

You can now follow me around all week long while I announce my opinions about things that have nothing to do with cars. I like latex better than oil-based. I like stripes better than plaid. I like to dunk chocolate cake in my milk. Coffee black. Local channels. Toilet paper over the roll. And you’ll experience a strong emotional inclination toward the polar opposite of everything I say, even if some of it may be specialized, technical and alien your own preferences or experiences.

Now, behold. This is where things really go over the edge.

Mister X comes along. Who is Mister X? You don’t know. Mister X comes up with a piece of paper…and he signs it. The piece of paper has my name on it, and says a bunch of other stuff, something about fulfilling requirements, certified for something-or-other. What exactly does the piece of paper say? You don’t know. What does it even look like? You don’t know. All you are told, is that the piece of paper exists, and that it is signed. And it’s mine.

Now your car is ugly! You won’t dare to argue otherwise. Morgan, the certified assessor of ugly cars, has said so.

The process of trying to stay honest, while at the same time forming an opinion people will respect, will drive you insane. You will question every little notion you ever had, about what makes a car ugly, versus what makes a car not. But you know nothing. Morgan has an opinion about your car, and X has an opinion about Morgan. That is all you know. Two opinions. You know very little about my background, notwithstanding the piece of paper. And you know absolutely nothing about X.

Ah, but what if it’s Morgan’s job to make determinations upon which important things depend? Morgan’s going into the business of figuring out if a bridge can be walked on. Morgan says the bridge is good…some guy walks on it, falls, cracks his head open.

Why, then Mister X is placed in a position of real responsibility.

Assuming that he is. Assuming he can be prevailed upon to financially cover this colossal blunder made by Morgan.

But let’s face facts…you don’t even need to know if X will return your phone calls before you surrender all your cognitive and cogitative processes to Morgan, the guy with the piece of paper signed by X.

And you know what else? The bridge analogy doesn’t even hold…not where the Nobel committee is concerned. By the way, who is on that committee? Do you know? Do you know who sat on it thirty years ago, when they gave the Peace Prize to Betty Williams? Neither do I. For all practical purposes, nobody knows. Nobody will bother to find out. Nobody cares.

Well, guess what Betty Williams is spouting off about. Remember: I don’t have a Nobel Peace Prize; you probably don’t either; if you or I said this, we might be expecting a visitor soon.

NOBEL peace laureate Betty Williams displayed a flash of her feisty Irish spirit yesterday, lashing out at US President George W.Bush during a speech to hundreds of schoolchildren.

Campaigning on the rights of young people at the Earth Dialogues forum, being held in Brisbane, Ms Williams spoke passionately about the deaths of innocent children during wartime, particularly in the Middle East, and lambasted Mr Bush.

“I have a very hard time with this word ‘non-violence’, because I don’t believe that I am non-violent,” said Ms Williams, 64.

“Right now, I would love to kill George Bush.” Her young audience at the Brisbane City Hall clapped and cheered.

“I don’t know how I ever got a Nobel Peace Prize, because when I see children die the anger in me is just beyond belief. It’s our duty as human beings, whatever age we are, to become the protectors of human life.”

Ms Williams was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize 30 years ago, when she circulated a petition to end violence in Northern Ireland after witnessing British soldiers shoot dead an IRA member who was driving a car. He veered on to the footpath, killing two children from one family instantly and fatally injuring a third. [emphasis mine]

What is it about Peace-People? It seems nobody anywhere says anything scarier, than what comes shooting out of the mouths of people who are supposed to be all about “peace.”

And what is the deal with awards? I say I know something, people will argue with me about it all day long just to be seen arguing with me. Someone else says I know something, and everybody’ll go along to get along — while knowing butkus about me, and even less about the guy who said I know something.

Thing I Know #17. A man may not kill a fly for a cause he believes is right; but he might do terrible things for a cause he believes is righteous.

Update: Neal Boortz has a novel idea for the Nobel Prize Committee: Just make “Hating the United States” a category. Hmmm. Doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, but I like the truth-in-marketing angle.

Update 7/26/06: Michelle proves how smart she is once again, by saying the same things I said. Good going.

MS. X is a member of the liberal, Hate George Bush crowd. What they do not acknowledge is that a majority of the citizens of America voted and support him. She is therefore anti-democratic or Communist.
- Chief RZ | 07/25/2006 @ 10:01

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Scary Peace-People IITuesday, July 25th, 2006

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Tuesday, July 25th, 2006