Speculative Fictions

     There are a couple of comments sitting in the "to be screened" stack that I'm probably not going to publish.  Not because they're insulting or threatening; not because I disagree with their content, which I mostly don't.

     Nope.  The problem is that they indulge in a mental game that I think is pointless, one that I speak out against: they're trying to project the future.  They're trying to play serious chess with politics.

     I'm a lousy chess player, but even I know those sixty-four squares and thirty-two* pieces add up quickly to a staggering number of possibilities, and the more moves ahead you're looking, the more there are. And that's with only a limited number of motions available.  Politics is played on a much bigger board with many more pieces, and every one of them, even the pawns, decides its own moves.

     The next move, maybe -- rarely -- even the next two, might be obvious.  Try to predict too much further and you're unlikely to be right.  And it's rarely necessary; you can find out by waiting and watching.  Things that are genuinely unworkable aren't going to work; policies and actions that prompt widespread protests are worth investigating: why are they being promoted?  Why is there protest against or (also rarely) for them?  Who likes the notion?  Who hates it?  Find out as the thing moves.

     And learn the lesson of Cassandra: There's rarely any award for being right.  Work on being nimble instead.  Saying "I told you so" as the boulder crashes down is a distant second to dodging the damned thing before it hits you.
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* Or, if you're on my side of the board, sixteen, fifteen, fourteen, more...checkmate....

Keyboard In The Gutter

     Was it only yesterday that a big tranche -- or perhaps a splatter -- of Jeffrey Epstein's emails were made public?  Politicians are circling the fetid mess; most Republican politicians say the contents contain nothing significant, showing only that President Trump and the late sex offender moved in the same elite circles, while their Democrat counterparts are highlighting passages and conversations that put Mr. Trump in a bad light.

     Absolute smoking-gun evidence or sweeping exoneration has yet to be unearthed and I doubt it will.  The emails do show Epstein and most of his correspondents were shockingly shallow, banal and unconcerned with the fiddling details of spelling, grammar or even coherence, reveling in sleazy innuendo and treating women as property: America's financial and social elite is riddled with mentally-lazy creeps.

     What the President knew and when did he first learn of it?  I don't know.  I doubt these emails will reveal it.  What they do show is a bunch of emotionally stunted, manipulative men whose lives are lubricated by gobs of money, sliming their way through life along and over the edges of moral behavior with no regard for boundaries, scorning probity as a scam for chumps.

     A few online commenters have cautioned, "What if there are Democrats among Epstein's circle?"  I'm sure there were; I'm sure many of them are still in public life and they deserve to be removed from office just as much as any Republican running with that crowd.  Turf 'em all out.  Primary them.  Get some new crooks in there, people with fewer connections.  They may still be terrible people, but it'll take them awhile to pick up the game, and if we keep voting the old ones out and new ones in, they'll have less time to wallow in the ooze.

     Another question the emails don't answer is how Jeffrey Epstein funded his decadent lifestyle; at times, they imply something on the very edge of blackmail or extortion, but -- yet again -- hard evidence isn't there.  Just a lot of skin-crawling stuff, hints and nudges.  He's clearly trading in influence and access.

     If you're happy making excuses for gazillionaires with stomach-churning private lives, nothing in the emails will change your mind.  If you were looking sidelong at this sort of thing already, here are steaming piles of the same ick.

     This isn't the big chunk of files that Congress may yet release, but those are probably going to be pulled from the same cesspool.

     F. Scott Fitzgerald's, "The very rich are different from you and me," wasn't written in admiration (or even in quite that way) but in disappointment; and Hemingway's rejoinder, "Yes, they have more money," is far too glib.  An excess of money lets people people be even more who they already were.  Freed from the necessity of earning a living by the sweat of their brow, lot of people turn out to be self-indulgent moral cripples for whom other individuals aren't quite real -- especially those who work for wages.  We live in a representative democracy; why are we letting these wretches run our government?

Word To The Wise

    A reminder for anyone who needs it: having voted for a politician does not make you complicit in his (or her) crimes and missteps. You're not stuck with them to the bitter end. You can always say, "Hell, no," and walk away at any time.

      Today would be a great day for that.

     Repudiating one politician and their circle over horrific behavior doesn't require you to abandon your political ideals, either.  You can keep right on favoring small government or large, being a hawk or a dove, a rugged individualist or a deep believer in community.  None of those notions is attached to any one politician.

Veteran's Day

     Today marks the end of fighting in the first really big mechanized war, one that left scars twisting across the face of Europe still visible today.  Today, the guns fell silent -- and today is the day we chose to honor all who serve in uniform.  Not the date of a tremendous battle, or of an occasion of valiant heroism.  No invasion hit a beach or border on this date.  This isn't even the date the treaty that officially ended that war was signed; that wouldn't come for months later.

     No, today is the day the warriors laid down their weapons, and began the long road home to try to rebuild the peace.  That peace barely held for a generation, and they were back fighting again; but that war came to an end, too.

     All wars come to an end, but the men and women who fight them, who train for them, who hold the line in peace and in war, go on and on, overworked, underpaid and often underappreciated.  Think of them on this day, not as the pawns of generals and admirals or arrows on a map, but as people, doing a difficult job, often under terrible conditions, persisting.  Don't take them for granted.

Let's Make An (Or)Deal!

     The Federal government is on track to re-open, possibly as soon as late Wednesday afternoon.  Senate Democrats made a deal with the GOP, in which the Dems get...  Well, let's see...  Oh, here it is, a vague promise of a vote on extending COVID-years ACA subsidies that will almost certainly be DOA in the House.

     What went on behind the scenes is unclear.  The eight Democrats who voted with Republicans were headed for retirement, or won't be on the ballet until 2028, and/or from states where they can't possibly lose an election, and there's a message in that.  In my opinion, neither party has been covering themselves in special glory in this fight -- but we're not paying them to go roll in glory like a dog wallowing in a festering deer carcass anyway; we're paying them to not make too big a mess of things, and...yeah, they're not great at that.  From the outside, they were stuck unless somebody blinked, and with House members mostly out of town and needing to fly back, and the FAA starting the throttle back on air travel, blinking was certainly on the menu.

     Now we're back to the original mess, with the added fillup of screwed-up SNAP payments and overtaxed food pantries, and Thanksgiving is just over two weeks away.  Don't look for anyone affected by that to be adding their Senators and Representative to the prayer before the holiday meal.  Primary season starts in March, only four months away: voters will remember, and primaries keep on cranking through until well into August, by which time Fall election campaigns will already be underway.  Could be kinda ouchy; the only question is if elephants or donkeys get the biggest pinch.

Souped Up

     We've had over an inch of snow in Indianapolis and it's been cold, with overnight lows in the twenties and highs barely breaking freezing.  So I wanted something warm for supper.

     I work later than most people and I'd just as soon get to bed early, so anything fancy was off.  A bottle of almost-homemade vegetable soup, a half-pound of ground beef and a sausage squeezed from its casing made a good start.  Preparation is easy, just brown and drain the meat, add the soup and a bay leaf and let it simmer for five minutes or more.

     The soup is tomato-based, with okra, corn, onion, lima beans (trust me, you'll hardly notice) and I don't know what all else.  The sausage was andouille, and it was a little strong for the mild vegetable soup.  Not unpleasant, but I wanted something to pair with it -- and remembered the Chicago-style giardiniera in the fridge.  That turned out to be just the thing; a few forkfuls stirred into a bowl of the thick soup added a nicely savory flavor.  (It's not the spicy-hot version of pickled vegetables -- YMMV and if you like heat, that's an option.)

     Next time, I'm going with mild Italian sausage, or even a genuine "banger," but I'll keep the pickled vegetables in mind.

Well, That Was Fun....

     Except it wasn't fun.  I was watching the Sunday morning political shows, mostly, and dozing, a little, and eventually decided to make some brunch.

     It was going to be pretty good brunch, too -- roast beef hash with canned mild chilies, a little onion, a dab or more of Chicago-style Giardiniera, a bread-crumb crust and eggs cooked on top, served with cheese.  But it wasn't to be.  I turned on the kitchen TV and the channel I wanted wasn't there.  It was one of the ones I'm responsible for, though not one of the big ones.

     So much for breakfast!  After a little more checking, I fired up my computer and started troubleshooting remotely, texting my boss at the same time.  He was aware of the problem, but busy with other things.

     I didn't find anything easy, so I brushed my teeth, got dressed, packed some snacks and went to the transmitter.  A redundant communications link had half-failed, which should be a minor problem, something that makes no impact and you solve during regular business hours.

     Yes, it's no problem -- unless the automatic switch that makes it redundant happens to have been hooked up backwards.  I looked and looked, and it didn't occur to me for a long time, until I was peering at the back of the conglomeration, seeing green lights where there should have been red lights, and red lights where they should have been green!

     You see, if you have two identical widgets, call them A and B, and a smart switch that selects between them, it's all well and good; if A is running and it conks out, the switch goes to B, and vice versa.  But if it was connected backwards?  A keels over, and the switch, automatically, selects what it thinks is B -- but is in fact A, and A, being dead, does nothing.  And the switch, while it is pretty smart as such things go but not quite as smart as one might hope, assumes it is not being lied to, and B must be as defunct as A.  So it does nothing.

     We have backups on our backups, and that kicked in -- losing a few minor channels in the process.

    I moved the connections to where they should have been all along, the two ends did a complicated handshake, and hey, presto! Everything was working, with the failed part safely sidelined for later.  And it only took three hours.  Well, four.

Oyster Stew

     I haven't lost the knack of making oyster stew.  There's not much to it, and the big brand name in condensed soups has their own mild version, though I haven't found it in stores around here for some time.  But there's a knack to it, and multiple places to go wrong.

     Canned oysters were scarce for a long while, too.  They're back now, at least some of the time (months with R in them?)  So I was determined to give it a try.

     You start by making a thickener of flour, water, a little salt,* a dash of hot sauce or Worcestershire sauce and a glob of butter.  Stir that up to a smooth paste and add it to the contents of a couple of 8-ounce cans of oysters, liquid and all.  Simmer over low heat until the oysters start to curl and set aside.  Scald four cups of milk and a little butter, or three cups of milk and one of cream, then add the oysters and let it sit a spell, over very low heat if you like (but keep an eye on it!).

     Serve with a dash of paprika, parsley or chives, hot sauce and pepper on the table, and crusty bread or crackers.

     Variations: add cooked potato and/or sauteed onion and/or celery, cut small.

     It's warm and filling on a chilly evening.  Oysters aren't for everyone; if you're curious but unsure, look for a ready-made version and give it a try.  The scratch version is strong and has more zing, with big, meaty oysters.

     The gotchas: blend the thickener smooth, not lumpy.  That means cold, cold water and plenty of stirring before you add it to the oysters and their liquid (and then turn on the heat).  Don't overcook the oysters -- and really, really don't overcook the milk.  It's done when it's bubbly around the edges and steam is rising from it.  You can cook both at the same time, and old recipes assume you will, but that means dividing your attention.

     Depression-era bread and milk can be this recipe without the oysters -- and you can still find people who were happy to get even that much.
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* One and a half tablespoons of flour, two tablespoons of cold water, a teaspoon or so of salt -- old recipes have even more salt, but even a teaspoon was plenty for me.  It does need a little, but you can always add more to your bowl.

Oh, Noooooes!

     I'm still hearing a little freakout over New York City's Mayor-elect.  Thing is, he's not the first socialist to get himself elected mayor of an American city; he's not even the first one to win in NYC, and the city's still there.  Wikipedia's got a list, starting with John C. Chase in 1898.  There's a whole clutch of them in the early decades of the 20th Century, food for thought if you're pining for "the good old days."*

     Milwaukee had a nearly unbroken fifty-year run of them, from 1910 through 1960: that's two World Wars and a Great Depression.  I'm sure they all said and did things that I'd disagree with (not an unusual distinction among politicians) but the city survived and even thrived.  (It took heavy lifting to interrupt the string: a Democrat-Republican fusion candidate won and served from 1912 to 1916.)

     U. S. mayors do not serve in a vacuum.  They're working in concert with a legislative body and a court system; everybody in town knows where their office is and can look up their number, and all it takes is a faltering trash-collection system, faulty sewers or a botched response to a bad snowstorm to get them tossed out on their ear in the next election.  We vote mayors in, we vote mayors out, and when they lose, they hand over the keys and combination for the safe to the next officeholder in due order. 

     Mayors from one of the major parties are closely watched by their political opposition; Mayors who have expressed leanings towards the edges of one or the other big parties get even more scrutiny (this is where most of the recent socialists fall, being both Democrats and DSA members) and mayors affiliated only with a third party (or none at all) can expect to get it from both sides.

     So I'm not worried.  There are plenty of people and groups to do the watching and start yelling if he goes off the rails, and they're already on the job.
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* They weren't quite as halcyon as some people like to claim, and you can chop your own wood or shovel your own coal for a winter if you'd like to find out for yourself.  My parents grew up on the trailing edge of that technology, and even through the rosy-hued spectacles of childhood, it didn't look that great to them.  Even spending time in the disused attic of a house that had been heated by coal is a marked education -- pun intentional.  Coal soot takes considerable scrubbing!

They Won

     Democrats won resoundingly yesterday, from Democratic Socialist Zohran Mamdani in New York to centrist Dems in New Jersey and Virginia. Down-ballot races also went Democrat; school board elections, largely nonpartisan, rejected book-banners and candidates endorsed by "Moms for Liberty," the conservative group that made headlines when their Noblesville, Indiana chapter approvingly quoted Hitler's opinions on education in their newsletter.

     Politicians (and pundits) tend to over-read election results and this will be no exception.  The common threads of the last two elections are the cost of living (rent, groceries, utilities) and the general unwillingness of  Americans to be bossed around; go too much deeper than that and you're on thin ice.

     Mamdani, for all that he's made out to be a boogeyman,* has more in common with Indiana's Eugene V. Debs than Karl Marx.  He has been sharply critical of the governments of Venezuela and Cuba, especially their dictatorial leaders.  As Mayor of New York City, he'll be working with a 51-member City Council.  Unsurprisingly, the Council membership is overwhelmingly, though not exclusively, Democrat.  But New York City being as assorted as it is, they're an unusually wide range of Democrats, so don't expect the new Mayor to make a bunch of drastic changes.  (At least one prominent online opinionator lamented that in NYC, "women will be forced to cover themselves from head to toe...and hot dogs will be replaced by goat meat."  I can only conclude he's never seen Mrs. Mamdani, and doesn't grasp that goat meat would be a significant -- and not inexpensive -- upgrade from the mysterious contents of lower-grade frankfurters.  And all that along with not understanding that the City Council makes NYC's laws, not the Mayor.)

     All of these newly elected officials will be operating in the same old framework, in which (despite what certain politicians appear to believe) we don't elect Czars or dictators who rule by fiat (or even Chevy), but politicians who must negotiate and compromise with their peers and whatever other branches or units of government their own interacts with, politicians who must answer to their constituents via direct contact, the press, and eventually the ballot box.  The truly awful ones will reveal themselves in due course, either by trying to enact lousy notions into law or via an inability to work and play well with others, and some of those will discover they are "one-term wonders" or laughingstocks consigned to the sidelines.  This is entirely normal, and the system has survived all manner of wild and crazy ideas and people.

     Truly transgressive behavior in American politics consists of trying to unduly expand the powers of an office, of ruling unilaterally, of not understanding that Americans are at heart a mob, and a mob with a very wide range of ideas and beliefs.  We can all agree that we don't agree on much, and we should all agree that we ought to give one another as much latitude as we can manage.  Our worst failings begin when we forget or ignore that.
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* He is, as has been pointed out by more insightful people, exactly what President Obama was accused of being: a socialist Muslim born in Africa.  I guess we'll all get to see how that goes.  Maybe he'll even read the newspaper funny pages on the radio!

"Running Board"

     I used a slang term the other day, one that might not be entirely clear outside of my line of work, "running board."  No, not those things along the bottom sides of an old car that make it easier to get in and out, where Doc Savage rides when he and his intrepid crew speed to the scene of another exotic crime in Depression-era NYC.

     "Running" as in "operating," and "board" as in "audio board," which is to say an audio mixer or audio console.  Nowadays, most people have seen a sound-mixing board, the kind of thing used at a concert or in a recording studio, often a vast and confusing array of controls, knobs and lights.  It's literally the heart of the effort, where all the microphones and other sound pick-ups connect, their levels are adjusted and mixed, and the end result goes out to the amplifiers, recorder, streaming box and/or broadcast transmitter.

     The technology grew up slowly, from a rack filled with amplifiers, volume controls, switches and maybe a jackfield like an old-time telephone operator's panel.  Eventually, the control arrangements became more or less standardized, first in homebuilt systems (some of which might be mounted through a single slab of wood or Bakelite, a "board," or built into a freestanding desk, a "console").  Those early efforts still had most of the electronics mounted in a row of tall equipment racks, with only the controls in front of the operator.  Western Electric and RCA, along with a little company in Quincy IL called Gates, were among the first to put the whole works into a large, desktop enclosure with a row of knobs along the front.

     Those early audio boards were the center of small radio stations: every audio signal that came and went would flow through it, and mastering the controls, in all their arcane variations, was an essential skill for the technicians -- "engineers" by convention if not degree -- and eventually the disc jockeys who replaced them and the studio announcers they'd worked with.  (Big stations and networks would have a "master control" setup, an audio switching system that selected among multiple studios and mixing consoles, but that was big-time stuff indeed.)

     As time went on and electronics got cheaper, stations might have a multitude of audio consoles -- one for the newsroom, one for recording commercials and local programs, one for on-air operations -- along with their associated equipment.

     And then a funny thing happened: audio went digital.  Digital audio works like any other big computer network: there are central computers that do the work, mixing, recording and playing back, and screen/keyboard/mouse or specialized hardware "control surfaces" where humans work the controls.  The big or small "audio board" of today still looks a lot like the old 1940s ones, if you'll allow for slide faders instead of rotary controls and push buttons instead of a fancy lever switches, but not a single note of audio passes through it.  Nope, that all happens in equipment mounted in tall racks down the hall; only the controls are in front of the operator.  Just like it was when the idea was first starting out.

Maybe People Elect Who They Want

     There will be fuming over the results of today's elections.  There always is.  National elections can be confounding -- the popular vote is often close, the Electoral College tends to amplify the margin of victory, and some bickering is inevitable.

     But regional elections, even statewide elections?  Look, the people of AOC and MTG's House districts knew what they were getting when they voted.  In New York City, the three frontrunners in the Mayor''s race had clear platforms and didn't do much hedging.  Nobody walked into a voting booth and rolled a three-sided dice.  Gubernatorial candidates in Virginia and New Jersey were similarly forthright, and here's the thing: if the individual states are indeed "50 experiments in democracy," if the people of cities get to pick their own Mayors and so on, you're going to get an assorted collection.  Virginia isn't Ohio.  NYC isn't Dallas.  Get 'em into office and see what they do.

     Indiana's Micah Beckwith certainly lost no time showing who he is after Election Day.  Cruising into office on Governor Mike Braun's coattails, I think Hoosiers hoped for a safe, pro-business Republican* in the hot seat and didn't pay much attention to the malicious imp riding shotgun alongside him.  Said imp's latest has been to chortle that the interruption in SNAP benefits is "a great opportunity for the church."  --Most candidates come with a pretty clear label, but you can't be sure until you uncork 'em and get a good whiff.

     If people elected skunks or roses Tuesday, it'll be obvious soon enough.  Let's see how the latest crop does before freaking out.
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* Oh, well.  Like a lot of GOP Governors, he's trying to be a mini-Trump.  And like most of them, the act's not ready for Broadway.