s n a p p e r h e a d

Winterfall

Find
Where you best - are comfortable at rest
Near the space where the muscles under your face
Unwind, then
Seek the spot when
Your attentive mind - feels evermost kind
Unfocused on the locus while at the same time
Reach, for a
Resolve to abhor
Never to soar - or - teach yourself to become more
Cognizant of whatever you're always most-never
Aware, yet
Don't devolve
Or forget - that every contestant we've never once met
Dies before they consider themselves wise
Careful, there
It's slippery
(You have time - I know, you know there's no finish line.)

- Winterfall by Veach Glines

Thanks Fellow Veteran

Instead of the bland, ubiquitous, cringe-inducing 'thank you for your service' - try asking a question. And, because I think humorous questions are better than serious ones, try these:

Was it an adventure or was it just a job?
What was it like to be more than you could be?
Was it fun doing more before 9 am than others do all day?
Do people expect a you're welcome when they thank you for your service?

Before Looking for an Apartment in Vermont

Thinking about moving to Vermont?

Almost all landlords are members of the Vermont Landlords Association (VLA), which behaves like a guild/insurance company.
The VLA has a policy-guideline: no more than 30% of a renter's income should be spent on housing (rent combined with all utilities and 'housing fees').
Member-landlords treat this as law and ask all prospective tenants to provide proof of income.
Acceptable documents include recent pay-stub or employer-letter.
Landlords will refuse to lease to tenants who's income would cause the tenant to pay more than 30% on housing.
The VLA supports its member-landlords with legal assistance and can provide monetary assistance if any tenant behavior results in a financial loss to a member-landlord.
The VLA may refuse to assist a member-landlord if employment documents were not obtained or if those documents reflect insufficient income.

Important statistics:

Vermont Minimum wage (as of 1 Jan 2020) is $10.96, which computes (for a full-time employee) to about $1,900 a month before taxes.
Assume double-occupancy (every minimum-wage worker must have a roommate in Vermont) and 1,900 x 2 = $3,800.
30% of $3,800 is $1,140.
$250 monthly utilities (1 BR Apt) $60 electricity; $150 (average) heat; $40 garbage.
$1,140 minus $250 is $890.
$890 is the maximum rent a landlord can expect two minimum wage workers to afford.
In and around the metro-Burlington area (where more than 50% of the state population resides), average 1BR rents are $1,300 (+/- $300) albeit many complexes offer units with all or most utilities included in the rent.
To be permitted to afford $1,300 a month, in rent and utilities, the household must be able to prove they have an annual income of $52,000.

None of this is a government regulation/law; merely a guideline, informally enforced by VLA member-landlords. The results:

Throughout the state, housing turn-over (across all levels and types) is extremely low (and not just in the winter). The reason? The minimum wage increased 18 cents per hour from last year; which is $30 a month. Nobody can move if their rent has increased more than their wages.

There is a constant need for temporary, seasonal, minimum-wage workers (50-60% of businesses have help wanted signs). The reason? Nobody can move to a state with almost the highest rates of taxation in the country and middling wages, if there is an unregulated "informal gatekeeper" dictating: every household must have over $50K to move here.

The fix is simple:

Vermont legislature: Make it illegal for businesses and landlords to request a person's income.

other very-vermont things worth noting:

Lazy Witch Coffin Windows

Good Day to Be a Crow (hunting regulation)

Before Driving Your Smart Car to Vermont

          A few days ago, I decided to go trail walking among the falling and yet-to-fall autumn leaves. At the trailhead, I noticed a list of Vermont's Hunting and Trapping Dates. Although I hadn't heard any gunshots, I realized that was probably the last thought JFK, MLK, and Theo Van Gogh all had (although Theo had enough time for a follow-up think: "nobody kills the village idiot," since his assassin only shot him off his bicycle and, then, dispatched him with a knife).

As I got out my reading glasses, I looked down at myself (wearing exclusively subdued colors except for a splash of color on my hat) and read that bow season was already open for deer, and black bear season had been open for more than six weeks. Which caused me to feel both stupid-lucky and stupid-foolish at the same time – I'd walked in different wooded areas every one of those past weeks not wearing bright colors but with bear spray on my hip.

          Driving away, I considered what the odds were of being killed by a human compared to being killed by a black bear (and decided it was statistically more probable to be murdered, by at-least a factor of 100). Then I wondered at the increased odds of being "accidentally shot" by a drunk, stoned, Vermont hunter, during bear hunting season, while wearing a black sweater (and decided it was smart I chose not hiking to Preston Lake that day).

One line on the list of hunting season dates stuck and wouldn't let go of my shadow:

          Crow   JAN 18 thru APR 8 and AUG 19 thru DEC 16: Open FRI – MON Only; Closed TUE – THR

          It seems that it is illegal to hunt crows mid-week in this state. What logic-based data (presumably, closed hunting dates are decided on nesting dates) would support only hunting four days a week?

Crows – which the government stupidly uses as a category-name for all Corvids – learn from past experiences, pass information along to their young, and (reportedly) are scared away from an area by shooting at them or by using a crow-based scarecrow.

The federal government regulates an annual maximum number of days in which every state is permitted to allow the hunting of migratory birds. Vermont Dept of Fish and Wildlife disagrees with the categorization of crows as migratory (considers them a nuisance) and closes "crow season" every mid-week so as to appear to adhere to the letter of the federal regulation.

other Vermont to-see's:

Preston Pond, Bolton

Swanton

Westford

East Middlebury

Waterbury

St Albans City, Town, Bay

Lyndon Center

An Amazon God Has Spoken

As someone who owns TACKLIFE Propane Fire Pit... can you help this fellow customer?

Q: What is the difference between bo7lg5kdnk for 179 and the bo7lg5q78q for 189?

A: Ahhh young padawan, it is illogical to ask the amazon gods about the algorithm which determines why one ASIN costs ten dollars more than another. That is a question better answered by camelcamelcamel. (An Amazon God Has Spoken)

Q: After watching the installation video, i realized that i did not plug in the wire to the auto starter. once i plug in the wire, it worked.

A: How did you find out how to make it turn on without using any of your own brain cells? For 200. (An Amazon God Has Spoken)

Q: Can we put this on the outskirts of our garage so we can have some cover?

A: Based on your vague description (the word "outskirts" and "some cover" are not helpful in specifically knowing your plans, but are helpful in that I think you already know the idea is wrong-headed). I picture you and your elderly husband placing this large propane fire just inside your open garage door and saying that 'the amazon gods said it would be ok'. If you do this, you could fail to get sufficient ventilation from the open door that the carbon monoxide kills you before you get a chance to see the plastic portions of your siding melt and the paint catch on fire from the heat. I put this in the middle of my back yard and could see the heat moving leaves on a branch twenty-five feet above - I recommend you watch the video 'dumb ways to die' for more things you should not do. You are welcome (An Amazon God Has Spoken).

Don't Act Like a Nail and Complain About Hammers

When caring and cognizant parents recognize a dysfunction in their child, they seek advice from a health care professional. No matter how immature it is, that child’s mind already began to form a coping mechanism, projecting: ‘this is how you-I-we function, you are normal, I am right, we aren’t impaired, they are all wrong’.

Children become adults. The coping mechanisms (of those without caring and cognizant parents) have denied their dysfunction for so long that—in most cases—the dysfunctional adult is no longer able to recognize when they are “unable to get out of their own way.” And, when others point out their disordered thoughts or actions, their coping mechanism takes over: better to change jobs, break-up with partners, cut off family members, and then blame them for the change/break-up/cut off.

Narcissists, sociopaths, and psychopaths are rarely clinically diagnosed; most never have significant enough life-impairment to admit they need assistance from a mental health professional. People with un-diagnosed NPD appear to act like people with no mental disorders, unless one observes their behavior from a close perspective. (Because lying and manipulation as well as having no empathy and no remorse are behaviors only noticeable by people who are close to them. In simple terms: Friends and family are the only ones who care when friends and family are callous and/or uncaring.)

Almost every female in my family is/was a narcissist (it only seemed to skip-over Great Aunt Betty). Research has identified that female narcissists tend to raise female narcissists. Point out their lies, manipulations, lack of empathy, or refusal to apologize and they all—bar none—cut off communication for years or…for decades.

Or… for what is left of our respective time alive—(as I reaffirmed when I wrote to my sister to see if she was still a narcissist).

She referred to suing our step-father’s estate in the 90’s this way: “…I broke with the hypocritical narcissist and her progeny and have nothing to apologize for in my behavior.” Although an ironically contorted way to refer to our mother, half-sister and myself, she eventually re-re-re-terminated all our future communications using all the aplomb of a highly-practiced coping mechanism: “I do respect that you reached out, and these emails show how we both tried … I found this worthwhile, too, but I am not interested in taking this any further.”

After my friend died in 2018, my half-sister showed all four traits in quick sequence. I wrote her a detailed letter (mailed in an envelope) and explained how her detrimental narcissistic actions on the phone, in texts, and in emails were affecting me. I said I’d remain open to future communications regarding her un-diagnosed NPD in the form of envelope-letters, because they require (and show) time and effort. She replied in an email: “…I will send via email, since I truly send so few things via post” and—after nothing but (unopened) links and curt texts for about ten months—sent this text: “thinking you’ve made it to Vermont … a new address to send letters?”

Narcissists. Do. Not. Give. One. Shit. About. Anyone. But. Themselves. They also do not keep track of the lies or excuses they use to manipulate (but will quickly claim you're attempting to manipulate them if you quote them). Their coping mechanism will not permit them to be open and honest with themselves, most of the time, so forget about open-honest words coming out of their mouth. They also choose not to see their own behavior thru the eyes of other people—and choose not to picture themselves in other people’s shoes.

My half-sister was unaware of the irony in sending: ‘I will send via email’ in an email; unable to imagine her words ‘to send letters’ would remind me of her excuse: ‘I truly send so few things via post’; and—when forwarding memes (like this)—she is oblivious it shows her coping mechanism at work: using Hallmark-words is efficient, sufficient, and hides that you/I/we are deficient (when we use our own words).

related essay-articles:

empathy and conscientiousness in-detail

this title's origin and other Maslow ideas

Stories of My Demise - Amor Fati and Memento Mori

Recent essays about Bret and Carol reminded me of a couple of my favorite philosophical theories: Amor Fati (love fate) and Memento Mori (remember death). Both Latin phrases are related to the philosophy of The Stoics.

Memento Mori is something I incorporated into my thoughts long before learning that these unique ideas about death had been codified and given a name over two thousand years ago.

Although I understand the useful mental benefits that Amor Fati are supposed to provide, I find myself struggling with the practice of incorporating it into daily life.

In his last book, Ecco Homo, Nietzsche (considered an Existentialist by many - albeit, a label he would have shunned) coined the phrase Amor Fati, which I’ve paraphrased:

The formula for human greatness is to love fate — to want nothing (which has-happened in the past or will-happen in the future) to be any different than it was or will be. Do not just ‘bear with’ the necessary hardships in life, much less conceal them, but—instead—love them!

I can quasi-successfully get my brain around Nietzsche’s advice: belaboring our regrets is a dark hole we should be wary of; ‘lucky’ coins provide a single benefit (melt-value exceeds face-value); and, fearing what tomorrow has in store imbues worry but does not alter events. Therefore (sayeth Fred) ‘flaunt the hardships of life and cherish them, for they are necessary.’ But I say: The hard-knocks which fate has already dealt—or has yet to deliver—haven’t all been (and won’t all be) valuable teaching tools. I regret stepping in dogshit yesterday, dislike whomever chose not to bag it after their pet shit in my yard, and didn’t enjoy cleaning my shoe. But, I will remain open to suggestions on how Amor Fati is successfully practiced.

Pertaining to Memento Mori, the stoic philosopher, Aurelius wrote,

“Don't look down on death, but welcome it. It, too, is one of the things required by nature; like youth and old age, like growth and maturity, like a new set of teeth, a beard, the first gray hair, like sex and pregnancy and childbirth—this is how a thoughtful person should await death—not with indifference, not with impatience, not with disdain, but simply viewing it as one of the things that happens to us.”

After attending my maternal-grandfather’s funeral, I learned that Papa (1915-1977) had been planning on retiring, and collecting social security later that same year—only an unforeseen heart attack derailed his plans while he was sleeping. At his funeral, I re-heard the story of his father’s demise at the age of 57 (also, of an unforeseen heart attack) although Great-Papa was rowing a boat at the time of his death.

When I first began to talk about those two ancestors (Papa and Great-Papa) I’d synopsize their lives to underscore how they might have enjoyed the relaxation of a few “golden years” if they hadn’t chosen to blindly focus on, and plan for, the end of their employment years based on the one-size-fits-all, government retirement template.

In the middle of my 17^th year of military service—1999—I was (not partying like it was almost Y2K but, rather, was seriously) second-guessing my oft-stated plan to retire in three years. Fate reminded me. My father, Leverett, died of an unexpected heart attack. He was 60 and driving down a sunny mid-afternoon road. Needless to say, I stuck to my plan.

Bring up the subject death and I, invariably, get massive push-back. Everyone I’ve ever attempted to talk with—about death (theirs, mine, anyone’s) is really invested in the specious idea that it is unpredictable and mysterious and (most important) never imminent. I’m routinely scoffed at when I explain the primary reason I remained in the military for twenty years (and not 30) was because I did not want to follow in my ancestor’s footsteps (that of working up to the day of demise). “Oh Veach, you aren’t going to die anytime soon!” I constantly hear from naysayers, all-in-a-rush to change the subject.

My form of Memento Mori is slightly different from that of the Stoics. I agree that death is a normal part of life, but I also think it should be a topic of normal conversation. Bring it up with the kids. Talk about it over beers with a neighbor. It needs to be discussed because it needs to be de-fanged.

Americans avoid the subject of death and dying slightly more-often than they avoid talking about how much money they have (promulgated by a foolish, 1950-era, white, male, corporate-mindset based in privilege, greed, inequality and an unspoken ‘I got mine – you get yours’ doctrine) and ever-so-slightly less-often than they talk about what flavor of sex they enjoy (promulgated by a foolish, 450s-era, white, male, religious-mindset based in close-minded hypocrisy, fear, and an unspoken ‘I hide mine – you better hide yours’ doctrine).

To treat death as a taboo subject, imbues it with the power of mystery. It isn't mysterious. It may not be as predictable as the weather (remember when the weather was never predicted with any measurable accuracy?) but definite patterns can be identified. Actions can be taken to mitigate impending death. And, when the visage with the scythe does, eventually, come knocking (as it has for every living thing, ever) if you are someone who practiced Memento Mori and Amor Fati you will not be taken by surprise in your sleep, or in your car, or in your rowboat. You will be mentally prepared for the end of your life - as any rational person should be.

The First Rule of Philosophy Club is Don't Talk About . . .

I'm reticent to tell people, in normal conversation, that I've been studying and currently study philosophy. Even after years of researching different philosophical areas, I don't bring it up unless directly asked. When I consider talking spontaneously about what I've learned, I feel a pressure-twinge in the proximity of my brain near my conscience, which urges me toward an act of inaction, which — when translated into words — looks like something firmly wedged between modesty and humility.

Initiation into philosophy club began with reading some books written by some very-long-dead old wise men that had been translated, re-translated, and interpreted (and—surprisingly often—re-re-interpreted) by less-long-dead (or, occasionally, living) wise people. The translators and interpreters labeled themselves: Author — and labeled the men they translated and interpreted: Philosopher.

For me, one book led to another. One video to another. Repetition was important. Re-reading or re-listening became valuable. Reading a different author/interpreter discuss the same very-long-dead philosopher became most important. In the long run, all that really happened was I, eventually, gleaned a few insights about the universe; human life and death; society; politics; religions; the brain, consciousness, and the importance of human reasoning; time; logic; as well as how best to cope and how to decide how best to cope (which — simply put — is how to think about thinking and use that self-awareness to best advantage).

Realization that I was a member of philosophy club occurred when I recognized my ability to become self-aware had increased (I haven't become fully self aware, but, knowing what that means is a valuable step). Membership brought with it the knowledge that all of these insights were available to everyone who can read.

Knowledge about knowledge can be meta-knowledge, but it also can be an awareness that everything labeled "philosophical theory or concept" (which I might/might not be able to understand in whole or part) is no different than a single informative sentence. Because we all know a paragraph will provide more information. Which leads us to realize that an entire book would be much more informative. Then we see an entire shelf of books and wonder about the quantity and quality of all that additional information. Stepping back, we are now far enough away to observe the entire library and realize there are (and were) more library's nearby. (Library's which are filled with information, library's which were burned to the ground a while ago, as well as library's which were burned to the ground before any author/translator was able to read what all those very-long-dead old men had thought about long and hard enough to write it all down.)

There will never be completion when it comes to knowledge. Every theory and concept and idea comes from reading about theories and concepts and ideas. The result of my studying various types of philosophy is — it transformed me from a person of average intelligence into a wise person.

A wise person once said, "referring to oneself as an artist requires a punishable amount of hubris."

What an astute phrase within an ironic sentence (since I just made it up). More accurately, I assume I just compiled the above seventeen words and four punctuation marks into an order, which no person compiled them into before. I'm not saying the concept is novel. Certainly, some hundreds or thousands (millions?) of people have already said, or written, about the terms wise and artist in conjunction with hubris. I may even have heard or read them. However — like George Harrison writing My Sweet Lord — I have no awareness of He's So Fine in my consciousness, as I type.

The building blocks of my sentence are both words and ideas.

I learned, at UW-Milwaukee, that most creative people did not refer to themselves using the term Artist. Yes, we had gallery showings. Yes, some of us profited from selling what we created. But, artist was a compliment-label we reserved for others to use about us.

Accordingly, when studying philosophical concepts, I learned that most extremely intelligent people did not refer to themselves using the term Wise. Yes, they were successful authors. Yes, they may be professors and may possess Doctorates in Philosophy. But, wise was a compliment-label they reserved for others to use about them.

I met—recently—a person who creates art and sells it in a gallery she owns and operates. She constantly refers to herself as an artist. She also insists, with the bulldozing personality of a stage performer, that other creatives must self-anoint, proclaim, and metaphorically tattoo the word ARTIST somewhere prominent for the world to always read.

Although I consider her artistic, and can see passion in her work, she is not wise. She is neither humble nor modest, nor does she possess the inaction firmly wedged between humility and modestly. Instead, she suffers from an inability to get out of her own way. She is a business-woman. She is an activist. She is not an artist.