Fine Art Tuesday

 

Laszlo Neogrady born 1896 in Budapest, Hungry and died in 1962.

His only weakness as a painter is that this seems like an improbable location for a water fall.

 A tip of the old fedora to the tireless Lucas Machias for suggesting this artist.

Lent

Blogging will be light for the next 6 weeks or so.

Lent lasts for 40 days various commitments Mrs ERJ and I made will absorb our Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays.

Spring planting season keeps whispering seductive promises in my ear.

Hiccups in the flow of government grants introduced air-bubbles into the flow of food and diapers to people in need. We feel called to help as we can. For instance, we will pull our annual giving forward into the next 60 days to breach-the-gap.

Unfortunately, we are now in a highly politicized and divisive environment and some readers will expect me to slam certain politicians.

I really don't want to go there, but is it really any different than a military force launching missiles from the grounds of a hospital or school and the opposing force flattening the launch site? Who owns the blame?

It has long been common legislative practice to "bundle" projects with dubious public support (like chemical castration and genital mutilation of minors) with apple-pie and motherhood projects like feeding the hungry and providing clothing for the poor. How is that NOT the budgetary equivalent of terrorists using school-children as human shields? How can that situation be painlessly unwound when the funding is so tightly coupled?

All of that is above my pay-grade. Mrs ERJ and I will do what we can to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, comfort the afflicted and give hospitality to the weary. We try to be flexible, and one of the things that has to "flex" is the amount of time I spend on the blog.

Karma and Long-Shadows

Late in 1981, I rode the escalator from the second floor to the main floor of the engineering building where I worked. The building was almost deserted as it was late in the afternoon.

At the bottom of the escalator, I hooked to the right to one of the east/west hallways of the building. I saw Art Weideman walking east and he was clearly unaware of my existence.

Art was a middle-managers and managed the "Transmission Engineers" for our product lines. In my mind he was at least seventy-years-old (although, in retrospect he might have only been in his fifties). He was about 5'-7" tall, bald with a few remaining wisps of gray hair, his face was lined with wrinkles and he was portly (by the standards of the day).

Art was wearing a dark-brown suit that looked like a "loaner" from a funeral parlor but had probably been chosen due to the color's ability to absorb random splashes of Dexon and 85-140W lubricating fluids and not show.

I saw Art bend over and pick up a random bit of trash...maybe a gum wrapper or a paperclip...from the industrial-grade carpet. He put it in his pocket and kept walking.

He didn't do it because he thought anybody was watching.

He didn't do it because it was his job or because somebody told him to do it.

As near as I could tell, he did it because he was proud of where he worked and it hurt him to see the place be less that what it could be. The stray trash, even as small as it was, made it seem like people didn't care. Art cared. It was within his power to make it better and so he did.

Clearly, that casual (but not trivial) action by Mr Weideman made an impression on me that was out-of-proportion its physical dimensions.

Men like Art Weideman kept the lamp of Western Civilization lit, doing-the-right-thing without stopping to perform economic calculations.

What is in it for me?

I am old-fashioned. I find that term very offensive.

It reduces human interactions into a single dimension as if it were possible to roll all of the benefits into a single, quantifiable number.

How do you quantify Art's bending over to pick up the gum wrapper? Here it is, almost 45 years later and I still remember it. It still informs my actions.

There is also a laziness to the question "What is in it for me?". Isn't it the job of the person who is asking that question to answer it? How can I possibly know what your internal value system is? Maybe the benefit I consider to be the most trivial is actually the benefit that is the most important to you.

The question has the feel of a demand "You dance until I am happy" when the path to happiness is for the person making the demand to dance. It is not a task that lends itself to out-sourcing.

Hayek

Hayek and the economists of the Austrian School contend that Western Civilization is the distillation of "What is in it for me".

It is paralyzing to attempt to calculate all of the secondary and tertiary effects. They height the farmer mows his alfalfa field impacts the number of grasshoppers which impacts the number of Sandhill Cranes which impacts the avian fecal content of the hay which impacts the likelihood of a milch cow getting avian flu which impacts a community's likelihood of being exposed to a novel strain of the flu which impacts it resilience in the face of threats of invasion by outside forces which....

The wisdom gained through hundreds of billions of lived experiences is passed down to us through the miracle of Survivor Bias. That wisdom is captured like a spider captured in amber.

We implement the wisdom of Western Civilization when we do-the-right-thing, even when there is no visible payoff.

Running notes: Not So Hot

Unlike the typical social-media "influencer", I am going to share times when things did not turn out well.

Frankly, I learn more from my mistakes than from when things go perfectly. Not sharing my mistakes or embarrassments is both a lie-of-omission and it deprives all of my readers of a chance of an inexpensive (for you) lesson.

***

I went in for my treadmill session this morning fully expecting a GREAT "run". Today was the two-week mark and I fully expected to have nearly all of the restart issues worked out.

I was disappointed.

"My" treadmill at the gym already had somebody using it, so I had to use a different piece of equipment. And therein lies the story.

I picked a treadmill that was directly beneath a ceiling fan. Being a fat, old man of Central European and Irish extraction I sweat. Sometimes I sweat a lot! I thought some additional ventilation might be just-compensation for not getting my preferred treadmill.

As noted in an earlier blog-post, I was already feeling kind of beaten up. I have been doing a lot. Nevertheless, I had high hopes.

Right from the beginning I was struggling. My legs had no spring to them. My core had aches-and-pains. I was huffing-and-puffing I was really having to work right from the beginning.

My bpm zoomed up right at the first 6.0 mph interval (it usually takes 3-to-6).

I dropped the incline from 1.0% to 0.5% and I was still struggling.

I bagged it at 30 minutes/2.0 miles.

One the way back to the locker room, your humbled scribe stopped by the desk where the staff sits and I commented that the incline on machine I was using seemed significantly steeper than my normal machine. I asked how often they validate the leveling.

The man at the desk said they did it every night.

And then the woman at the desk added...."Some of our machines don't drop back to zero after a client finishes his session."

"SAY WHAT?" I replied.

"Yeah, I have to go up 5% and then manually run it back down to the percent I really want" she elaborated.

Sounds about like what you have to do with a lathe to deal with "slop" in the bed-screws.

I know it sounds like I am making excuses, but my dismal performance would be understandable if I had hopped on a machine that had been running at 2% grade and did not re-zero. Then I added another 1% and then dropped down 0.5% for a net 2.5% grade.

0.5% grade SHOULD be visibly imperceptible. It is a RCH less than a quarter-inch of vertical in 48" of horizontal (useful info if you are using a 48" long bubble-level). If you can see it then it is more than a 0.5% grade.

Tobacco

A useful exercise for refining one's priorities is to play "What if you only had one..."

• One Watt of power.
• One hank of baling twine.
• One bullet.
• One square-foot of growing space.

How would you use that extremely limited resource? In the case of power, you might decide that an smartphone that combines accurate time, communication, calculator functions and photos is the first, best-use of power. There are hundreds of millions (perhaps billions) of people in India and Africa that would agree with that.

The twine might go to snares.

The bullet for self-defense

The square-foot of growing space would likely go to "medicinal" plants or to "flavoring".

Community Gardens

I started a community garden a couple of decades ago. As is my custom, I over-analyzed the issue.

In inner-cities, a common community garden plot was about 30 square-feet. In cities (but not the most congested regions) it would be three times that size. In the suburbs, maybe 400 square-feet. In places where subsistence gardening is a way of life and not just a passing fad, 2000-to-4000 square-feet.

The 30 square-feet gardens tended to be very heavy on green, leafy flavoring herbs, hot peppers, garlic and green-onions. Likely, there would also be a cherry-tomato plant planted on the north side where it would not shade the shorter plants. Lots of bang-for-the-buck, or vitamins-per-square-foot in this case.

How does tobacco align with "medical" and "flavoring"?

Medicinal

Let us suppose that approximately 10% of the US population is under supervised, medical care for mental/emotional health issues at any given time. Furthermore, let us suppose that 30% of the population has been under supervised, medical care for mental/emotional health issues at some point in their lives.

What happens if the lights go out?

What happens if Seroquel, Abilify, Risperdone, Paxil, Lexipro and Adderal et al become unobtainium?

Tobacco is not a very "good" drug. It has side effects. It is addictive. It has carcinogenic chemicals in it. 

On the plus side, if you can grow tomato plants you can grow tobacco. Patients are very good about "taking it". And it does help people "regulate" and to deal with stress and it is an appetite suppressant.

Little known factoid, "smoking" is a significant "self-medicating" symptom mental health professionals consider when diagnosing. People who are struggling are drawn to tobacco use because it is a comfort.

Insecticide

Nicotine is an insecticide with acceptable mammalian toxicity. If the lights went off, any loss of food production will really hurt. Even if you had the foresight to stockpile Carbaryl, Bifren and Permethrin, you will eventually run out, especially if you share it with your family, friends and neighbors...

How are you going to control head-lice* after you run out? How about potato beetles? Wireworms? 

Tobacco to the rescue! Two tobacco plants can produce more seeds in one season than you and one-hundred of your closest friends will use in a lifetime. But first you have to have the seeds.

There is an astronomical amount of "leverage" in growing a small patch of tobacco.

Snoose

Rustica Limonka is a Nicotiana rustica strain that was bred/selected in Eastern Europe.

Kubota enjoys using "Smokeless tobacco'.

He has given me permission to try to replicate his favorite brand of commercial "dip". 1.2 ounces of "Snoose" costs him $6.

Generic, moist dippin' tobacco has the following ingredients (by weight)

• Water
• Tobacco (not even the first ingredient so less than 50% by weight!!!)
• Salt (hygroscopic, flavor)
• Natural and Artificial Flavors (Peppermint Schnapps, for instance)
  
• Ethyl Alcohol (Peppermint Schnaps)
• Propylene Glycol (slows drying, increases shelf-life. Typically 2%)
• Sodium Carbonate (pH buffer to slow nicotine solubility. Baking soda is an acceptable substitute)

Given a price of $20/pound for cured, Burley tobacco and 27 "cans" of finished snoose per pound, that works out to a retail value of $160 for an 700% mark-up.

If I GREW the tobacco, then it is almost free. Nicotiana rustica tends to run higher in nicotine than  N. tobaccum species and does not require a long growing season. So, N. rustica it is. And if I let the two best growing individual plants go to seed, then I will have plenty to share.

"No Deal" is better than a "Bad Deal"

Zelensky went "weasel" in front of TV cameras while negotiating with Trump. It did not end well for Zelensky.

From Zelensky's standpoint, he is running out of road to kick the can down. He is running out of Ukrainian cannon-fodder (to be expanded upon later) to feed the Russian killing machine. He is living hand-to-mouth on war-time consumables.

The US green-lighted the Russian invasion when Biden told the Russians the US would tolerate minor incursions by Russians on Ukrainian soil. The Russians did not need any encouragement. Then the US media and politicians acted all surprised and horrified as it happened.

Zelensky knows that he will likely have a short lifespan after he gives up the reins-of-power and have his Trotsky moment. At this point, he is a one-trick pony. He bet all of his poker chips on the war and he has to keep the war going. 

Both he and Trump know that if American combat boots hit Ukrainian soil and one soldier or Marine dies, then it will be almost impossible for the US to gracefully extricate itself from the war on the Asian land-mass. That would be very much in Zelensky's favor. It would suck for all Americans.

Committing US troops is a "sticky decision". Once made it is very complicated to reverse.

So, at the last seconds in the Rare-Earths-for-Munitions deal, Zelensky DEMANDED American combat troops.

I am not sure Zelensky had any other viable options. The "demand" was probably floated early in the negotiations for the deal and instantly shot-down. Zelensky NEEDS those troops, so he thought he could bull-through at the last moment, figuring that Trump would cave to save the deal (and face). Zelensky rolled the dice and didn't get lucky, this time.

Regarding running out of cannon-fodder. I was surprised to learn that the Ukrainian military draft applies to men 25 years of age (and older). The idea of lowering the age to fill the manpower gap has been floated but not acted upon. So Zelensky is unwilling to commit HIS country's 18-through-24 year-olds but he has no qualms about demanding that the United States sacrifice OUR 18-through-24 year-olds to save his skin. Pretty bad optics there, Volodymyr.

One a more cheerful note

Nicotiana rustica "Limonka"

 

Mausers

An auction with many "Mausers" for sale. There are many other firearms offered at this auction. I used the search function to show JUST the Mausers.

The "Mauser" rifle is a fine, military rifle with countless models. In very rough terms, any models after 1895 are anywhere from "pretty good" to "very good" as tough, knock-around rifles.

At one time, there was a large cottage industry converting WWII "bring-backs" to sporting rifles. They were often rechambered to cartridges that were in demand.

Nowdays, it is much less expensive to buy an entry-level Savage or Mossberg rifle that is chambered in a commercially available cartridge and already tapped for a scope mount. The commercial rifle will also have a "better" trigger.

That said, those old war-horses can sometimes be had at a discount, especially if they are chambered in something unusual.

You can click on the image to embiggen it

For example, at the time of this writing there is a Mauser model of 1898 with a 16.5" barrel that is chambered in a "wildcat" called 35-06. Normally, I would shy away from "wildcat" chamberings but the 35-06 is now a commercially available and is known as the .35 Whelen. This rifle, which would be a spiffy brush rifle is currently going for $25.

That is a screaming-deal.

For the newbies, I would stay away from the 1891 Mauser, the "parts gun" and the Spandau .43 (unless you collect black powder cartridge rifles). Any 8mm rifles are good-enough (except the "parts gun") to shoot space-aliens, stray water-buffalo and run-away reindeer about to mow down granny.

Some of the bores might be pretty rough, but if you are shooting with the iron sights and the original trigger, even barrels that look like ten miles of rough road will often shoot good-enough, that is, not much worse that a shiny barrel.