Archive

Archive for June, 2001

Another Archival piece

June 30th, 2001

Thunder and Noise
Sound & Fury

Memories of forgotten souls
Memories of self

The dreams I lived as a youth
All the people as they crashed and collided
The people who became me…
The people who I grok and are me.

Those who I loved
Those who I hated
Those who I felt

The forgotten dreams
The tears
of Fears
Feeling

To be… to live…
To know how others feel
To know how to feel
To be ruled by that that matters

To have it rise and fall
to be part of the living

To see the noise

To understand what they feel
To live the Fury
To live in the noise

To live in Silence
My skull insulates me
It keeps the noise at a distance

I see the shadows of them
I can almost see their aura
I can see who they are

But they are separate
The walls keep them from being part of me

I am alone in a crowd of those I love
I am alone in a crowd of those who love me.

Forgotten dreams in black and white and tears

Alone.

Life

Random

June 30th, 2001

This is transcribed from a random piece of paper found in my room while cleaning. I don’t know when I wrote this or what prompted it. Words in [] are what they paper looks like but I have no idea what I was saying.

——-

I woke this morning. I heard the noise of the sound. I heard where I was a week ago. It didn’t occur to me to shed tears. But at some point it was clear I knew that I would cry. I knew that I would lose. It was a long time before I knew who but it wasn’t long before I saw the walking dead. I tried to cry, I tried to feel. But in reality that wasn’t enough. There was nothing, There was everything. My eyes leaked, I cried, but that didn’t bring my friends back though. They were [fort] even [laf]. I remember the various women who were not there during the night. All who move them. We people who could be dead with the tears and [erultathees]. So many names. So many loves… So many hearts. All I see (by chance) is those who I won’t see tomorrow.

Life

Monument

June 30th, 2001

Thursday I was driving along and came to the intersection of Piccard and W. Gude Rd. While waiting at the light I noticed a monument, consisted of two upright rough stone pillars with something that looked like a log painted green connecting them at the top. Very Stonehenge-esque.

I don’t know what this thing was for or commemorating, but I got to wondering what value archaeologists 2,000 or 10,000 years from now would ascribe to it. Would it be considered a shrine to one of our important road spirits? Perhaps a monument to a battle fought there, or an assassination that happened there?

Difficult to say, which brings up questions about our ability to judge the value and meaning of any particularly shaped piece of rock in Egypt, or the Southwestern United States, or Guatemala..

Culture

Dream

June 27th, 2001

I had a really odd dream last night.

It starts out that I’m in a meeting, it’s sort of like a Friday forum meeting from my days at the Fool, but felt more like the earlier weekly meetings. I don’t really recall what it was about just that is was a meeting with Fools. When it was over everyone started heading back to their desks, which someone involved outside (meeting was in 206 perhaps). But the Fool I went to wasn’t the one I know There was a long outside stairwell leading to the door. I got almost to the top before I realized I wasn’t a Fool anymore and wasn’t allowed in.

I recall not going in, but somehow I got inside anyway. I didn’t know where to go. Eventually Dwight and others asked me to sit in on an interview. I don’t remember much about the interview except that I fell asleep during part of it and being introduced as an ex-Fool.

I don’t remember anything after the interview.

Life

The Charge of the Light Brigade

June 22nd, 2001

by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

1.

Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
“Forward, the Light Brigade!
“Charge for the guns!” he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

2.

“Forward, the Light Brigade!”
Was there a man dismay’d?
Not tho’ the soldier knew
Someone had blunder’d:
Their’s not to make reply,
Their’s not to reason why,
Their’s but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

3.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley’d and thunder’d;
Storm’d at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.

4.

Flash’d all their sabres bare,
Flash’d as they turn’d in air,
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wonder’d:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro’ the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reel’d from the sabre stroke
Shatter’d and sunder’d.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.

5.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley’d and thunder’d;
Storm’d at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro’ the jaws of Death
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.

6.

When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Honor the charge they made,
Honor the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred.

Culture, Media

Celebs & Teachers

June 22nd, 2001

So I recently witnessed an online discussion that badly munged two separate issues. Why do we undervalue teachers (in the sense of a paycheck) and why do we vilify the wealthy and famous for not being teachers.

To start with the wealthy, the vilification exists because we like to think that we exist in a meritocracy.The wealthy invariably don’t make their millions by a process that enriches society. It is done by taking from society. They are an aberration in the illusion of the meritocracy. They are usually seen because they have voice not because they have something to say. Their are many great thinkers, statesmen, and artists who truly have something to say, but since distribution is essentially controlled through advertisement the people with voices are not those great men and women. They are the ones who gained corporate sponsorship, these are the ones who are competent, but more importantly, don’t raise waves. The corporate sponsorship give them voice but not something to say.

One point of view in this argument is that they then ply their money to charitable causes. I have no idea about the validity of this argument, it may be true, it may be a fallacy. But even if I concede the point I’m not sure why we assume their qualified to do so. You’ve just assigned these actors, athletes and musicians the task to taking money from one group and giving it to the other (minus their slice, minus their corporate sponsors slice).

Now if the government did this (more than it already does, because it does a lot of this) various factions would be upset. Yet it seems okay to assume that these celebrities will do this well. There is no oversight or even transparency. I find the argument that the wealthy are sanctioned wealth redistribution center weak. Their materialistic lifestyles no doubt employ a great number of people but we aren’t really talking about trickle down economics.

The wealthy are vilified because they are rewarded incongruously with what they provide to society.

Which leads to the teachers who deemed heroes because their situation is exactly reversed. Their reward is much less than the value the provide society. Education is the leading indicator of wealth. Wealth is in turn an indicator for a wealth of issues (health, criminal behavior, etc.) There are few things that add as much value to our society as education, yet the frontline soldiers are hardly paid above the poverty line.

If you listen to politics you’ll constantly hear demands for accountability for teachers and schools. Probably the only other job that is expected to be as accountable is mutual fund manager. Notice the differences in pay scale between those jobs and I would argue that a skilled teacher generates much greater value for their students than the fund manager does for those that own the fund.

I think we’ve established that the value created by the teacher is great and they aren’t compensated in comparison. And were left with the question of why?

First off and probably most significantly is that the job is considered women’s work. It is a job traditionally held by a woman who’s kids have grown up and started their own household or more recently it is perceived as a job that could be held while your own children are attending school. Jobs that are considered women’s work and as such a supplemental income are always depressed in comparison to the rest of the economy. To be clear this is wrong, but it the origin of the low wages for teachers.

This state of affairs is supported by two factors, first is the cyclical nature of generation sizes since WWII, second is the existence of the idealist.

During the education of the babyboom there was a surplus of women who suddenly had a taste for working outside the house. Teaching was one of the professions that they were easily allowed in to. I’d guess this provided a surplus of teachers which of course kept the price low. The school system coasted until the babyboomers started having kids in the early to mid ’70s.

Luckily idealism was there to pick up the slack. A lot of babyboomers were graduating from college and opting for education as a way to change the world, a continuation of the ’60s revolution. Teaching seemed like an attractive position to these idealists. Summers off and such didn’t hurt. These idealists bolstered the ranks for the kids of the babyboomers.

Fast forward to present and there is no untapped labor pool having trouble getting other jobs, nor is their a large pool of idealists. What there is a 2,000,000 teacher shortfall. This will continue until teachers are paid as other professionals in harmony with their contribution or some other group volunteers to be taken advantage of.

Culture, Media

Job Hunt Pt 1

June 13th, 2001

I’ve started looking for work mostly along the 270 corridor. There’s some stuff at NIH if I can just figure out how to write a cover letter. Haven’t had to do so for the last couple of jobs. I was recruited for those and just showed up at interviews with a resume.

There is a chance of it working that way again. Joanne (Wife of Maki, a former co-worker) called me today about working for her. There a couple of former Fools there and I’ll be able to work on Linux/Python instead of going back to ASP and learning .Net. Big positive.

It’s in Old Towne which has some positives (great area, lot of people around there, lunch with a variety of people) and one negative (I don’t get to give up my commute). I was hoping to give it up.

Anyway I have a phone interview in 45 minutes. We’ll see if anything happens.

<25 minutes later>

Joanne called early. It sounds interesting. I’ll have a proper interview either Thurs or Friday.

Life

Missing words

June 9th, 2001

So I’ve spent the last 24 hours or so trying to come up with the right words to commemorate being laid off, but they just aren’t coming.

I needs words that say thank you for letting me serve you. I need words that say how much I loved working for the Fool. Words that say I found a home.

But they need to also speak to the feelings of loss. They need to talk of the tears that I cried looking out from my desk for the last time. They have to remember the faces that I will no longer see on a daily basis. They need to remember those who went before me, and those who continue to serve without me.

My own words of advice from February, that “we are not going anywhere, we are still friends and we will always be there for you (or something like that)” ring hollow. What I mourn is not the loss of people, friendships can be maintained with people, What hurts is being turned away from a culture and way of life where I felt at home.

There are feelings of betrayal. But then I remember the reason it hurts. It hurts because it meant so much. It hurts because it was important enough to me that it’s absence causes me pain. It hurts because I let it be part of me and it let me part of it. It was the joy of finding a place that is a reflection of who you are.

It’s absence will hurt. It is the pain of being dumped by something that you care about.

Maybe I have some words after all.

–Zafkiel

PS: I want to thank Cindy, Scott, and Susan without whom it is questionable if I would have survived Thursday night. Thanks for listening to me fall into pits of despair, thanks for getting me home alive. Thanks for being friends when I needed friends.

Life

Laid off

June 8th, 2001

If the 2:14 entry doesn’t make it clear I was laid off from the Motley Fool yesterday at around 11:30 am. Though technically I’m paid through today.

I need to go back there and pick up my car.

Life

3am Friday Morning Part 2

June 8th, 2001

It is not 3am
And I am not a survivor.

But I feel I must say something
But I am tired and old and I want to know what to say
I want to know how to feel
Knowing that my friends will never again be part of the Pod

I am alone and will be that way for a long time
I will not forget the people I left behind
For I am more alone than I have been in a long time

My Tears
My Blood

I love but I have lost
I wish they were all still there
But ultimately as is truth, I am alone
and my tears say so in their own way

I am more alone and my tears more true
<unreadable line>

My bloody temple…
Memories of forgotten friends.

============

The above was written on a Murphy’s place mat after drinking 11 hours the day I was laid off. It contains all the familiar imagery (blood, tears, alone).

The unreadable line looks like “The mussing thinp” I don’t know what I was trying to say.

Life