Apollo 11: Cold War Victory

Personalism: The Politics of the Internet

An open letter to the Prime Minister of Canada and the President of the United States.

You came into power by having a platform the public could relate to.

You can win by having a new platform the public can relate to.

Forget about attacking the opposition directly. It is a waste of time and resources.

It was Eisenhower who said, “The plan is useless, the planning essential.”

Planning is about knowing yourself and your competitor. The actual battle is about adaptation and destruction of the competitor’s tools. WE MUST DOCUMENT THE COMPETITION TO GUIDE OUR ATTACK STRATEGY.

Napoleon’s first strike was at night and in the rain.

Martin Luther’s attack was with German and Satirical Cartoons instead of Latin and Religious Debate.

Canada conquered Vimy Ridge, by knowing how to hunt game in Canadian forests.

Germany invaded France by taking a country road around the Maginot Line.

D-Day was preceded by a massive night attack on front line communication, infrastructure and airborne troop drops behind enemy lines.

The Iraq invasion was founded on destroying the enemies’ will to fight.

We have no intent of ever executing a frontal assault against the enemy.  It is romantic incompetence.

Our competitive strategey: “Don’t fight like a Gentleman, fight like a Noble Savage.”

We are not seeking the approval of the professionals.

We are developing a language and tools to make the ordinary person extraordinary.

It is called the RECOVERY PLATFORM.

Create a phenomena called the “Personal Corporation.”

Make every Canadian capable of governing every aspect of their own life via the internet.

Abandon Marxism, Communism, Socialism, Capitalism, Liberalism, Conservatism, Racism, Fascism, Nazism.

Create the Manifesto of “PERSONALISM” the politics of the internet.

Sincerely,

Grant Czerepak

Flags: Oh, East is East and West is West and North is North and South is South

nato

“Honest and upright people are rare.”

Chanakya 350 – 275 B.C.

Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet,
Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God’s great Judgment Seat;
But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth,
When two strong men stand face to face,
tho’ they come from the ends of the earth!

Kamal is out with twenty men to raise the Border-side,
And he has lifted the Colonel’s mare that is the Colonel’s pride:
He has lifted her out of the stable-door between the dawn and the day,
And turned the calkins upon her feet, and ridden her far away.

Then up and spoke the Colonel’s son that led a troop of the Guides:
“Is there never a man of all my men can say where Kamal hides?”

Then up and spoke Mahommed Khan, the son of the Ressaldar:
“If ye know the track of the morning-mist, ye know where his pickets are.

At dusk he harries the Abazai — at dawn he is into Bonair,
But he must go by Fort Bukloh to his own place to fare,
So if ye gallop to Fort Bukloh as fast as a bird can fly,
By the favour of God ye may cut him off ere he win to the Tongue of Jagai.

But if he be past the Tongue of Jagai, right swiftly turn ye then,
For the length and the breadth of that grisly plain is sown with Kamal’s men.

There is rock to the left, and rock to the right, and low lean thorn between,
And ye may hear a breech-bolt snick where never a man is seen.”

The Colonel’s son has taken a horse, and a raw rough dun was he,
With the mouth of a bell and the heart of Hell
and the head of the gallows-tree.

The Colonel’s son to the Fort has won, they bid him stay to eat —
Who rides at the tail of a Border thief, he sits not long at his meat.

He’s up and away from Fort Bukloh as fast as he can fly,
Till he was aware of his father’s mare in the gut of the Tongue of Jagai,
Till he was aware of his father’s mare with Kamal upon her back,
And when he could spy the white of her eye, he made the pistol crack.

He has fired once, he has fired twice, but the whistling ball went wide.
“Ye shoot like a soldier,” Kamal said. “Show now if ye can ride.”

It’s up and over the Tongue of Jagai, as blown dustdevils go,
The dun he fled like a stag of ten, but the mare like a barren doe.

The dun he leaned against the bit and slugged his head above,
But the red mare played with the snaffle-bars, as a maiden plays with a glove.

There was rock to the left and rock to the right, and low lean thorn between,
And thrice he heard a breech-bolt snick tho’ never a man was seen.

They have ridden the low moon out of the sky, their hoofs drum up the dawn,
The dun he went like a wounded bull, but the mare like a new-roused fawn.

The dun he fell at a water-course — in a woful heap fell he,
And Kamal has turned the red mare back, and pulled the rider free.

He has knocked the pistol out of his hand — small room was there to strive,
“‘Twas only by favour of mine,” quoth he, “ye rode so long alive:
There was not a rock for twenty mile, there was not a clump of tree,
But covered a man of my own men with his rifle cocked on his knee.

If I had raised my bridle-hand, as I have held it low,
The little jackals that flee so fast were feasting all in a row:
If I had bowed my head on my breast, as I have held it high,
The kite that whistles above us now were gorged till she could not fly.”

Lightly answered the Colonel’s son: “Do good to bird and beast,
But count who come for the broken meats before thou makest a feast.

If there should follow a thousand swords to carry my bones away,
Belike the price of a jackal’s meal were more than a thief could pay.

They will feed their horse on the standing crop,
their men on the garnered grain,
The thatch of the byres will serve their fires when all the cattle are slain.

But if thou thinkest the price be fair, — thy brethren wait to sup,
The hound is kin to the jackal-spawn, — howl, dog, and call them up!

And if thou thinkest the price be high, in steer and gear and stack,
Give me my father’s mare again, and I’ll fight my own way back!”

Kamal has gripped him by the hand and set him upon his feet.
“No talk shall be of dogs,” said he, “when wolf and gray wolf meet.

May I eat dirt if thou hast hurt of me in deed or breath;
What dam of lances brought thee forth to jest at the dawn with Death?”

Lightly answered the Colonel’s son: “I hold by the blood of my clan:
Take up the mare for my father’s gift — by God, she has carried a man!”

The red mare ran to the Colonel’s son, and nuzzled against his breast;
“We be two strong men,” said Kamal then, “but she loveth the younger best.

So she shall go with a lifter’s dower, my turquoise-studded rein,
My broidered saddle and saddle-cloth, and silver stirrups twain.”

The Colonel’s son a pistol drew and held it muzzle-end,
“Ye have taken the one from a foe,” said he;
“will ye take the mate from a friend?”

“A gift for a gift,” said Kamal straight; “a limb for the risk of a limb.

Thy father has sent his son to me, I’ll send my son to him!”

With that he whistled his only son, that dropped from a mountain-crest —
He trod the ling like a buck in spring, and he looked like a lance in rest.

“Now here is thy master,” Kamal said, “who leads a troop of the Guides,
And thou must ride at his left side as shield on shoulder rides.

Till Death or I cut loose the tie, at camp and board and bed,
Thy life is his — thy fate it is to guard him with thy head.

So, thou must eat the White Queen’s meat, and all her foes are thine,
And thou must harry thy father’s hold for the peace of the Border-line,
And thou must make a trooper tough and hack thy way to power —
Belike they will raise thee to Ressaldar when I am hanged in Peshawur.”

They have looked each other between the eyes, and there they found no fault,
They have taken the Oath of the Brother-in-Blood on leavened bread and salt:
They have taken the Oath of the Brother-in-Blood on fire and fresh-cut sod,
On the hilt and the haft of the Khyber knife, and the Wondrous Names of God.

The Colonel’s son he rides the mare and Kamal’s boy the dun,
And two have come back to Fort Bukloh where there went forth but one.

And when they drew to the Quarter-Guard, full twenty swords flew clear —
There was not a man but carried his feud with the blood of the mountaineer.

“Ha’ done! ha’ done!” said the Colonel’s son.
“Put up the steel at your sides!

Last night ye had struck at a Border thief —
to-night ’tis a man of the Guides!”

Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet,
Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God’s great Judgment Seat;
But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth,
When two strong men stand face to face,
tho’ they come from the ends of the earth!

— Rudyard Kipling

In my last post I was taking Latin and and translating it into the monosyllabic brevity and clarity of the Anglo-Saxon tongue.

Just as an aside, it turns out Anglo-Saxon is very much like the Japanese in this respect.  No wonder they got along so well in the mid-century last.

Apparently, they even had some sleep overs and made their sheets look alike:

axis

Talk about “Tao and Te”.

Then in the sixties, Canada decides it needs a new flag, with the Atlantic on one coast and the Pacific on the other coast and they come up with this:

canada_flag1

“Zen, you ‘ave Kanata caught in the mittle.”

Talk about cognitive dissonance or what?  But what do you expect?  That was East and West and Canada’s assurance of economic independence.  Not to mention all the guilt over the Japanese-Canadian internment camps and German-Canadian internment camps during WWII.

We were also caught in the middle of something much bigger.  We had the Russian Bear to the North and the American Eagle to the South, and if they ever met we would have all the radioactive fallout dropping down on our Nobel Peace Prize winning heads.

northsouth2

And the DEW Line, maintained by our allies to the south was on the northern edge of our terrain and our best general is underground at NORAD an still is permanently second in command protecting the North American continent. (He was the one who got fighters in the air in minutes during 9/11, by the way.)

russian_air_forces_flag

Then there was the Russian bomber approaching Canadian Airspace on the eve of President Barack Obama’s visit to Ottawa, Canada.

canadianaircommand

Oh, East is East  and West is West

and North is North and South is South

And never the quain shall meet

We’re the coldest country in the world

in midst of all the heat.

caf_flag1

The Suns, The Stars and The Leaves

But what is it really about?  It’s about what we aspire to.

The German and Japanese Empires wanted to “rule the Sunrise and Sunset” a term with its roots in safe  Days or “Hours” or Times and Properties.

The Soviet and American Empires wanted to “rule the Sun and the Stars” a term with its roots in safe Heavens or “Havens” or Skies and Ways.

The Canadians Empire wants to “rule the Deciduous Trees” a term with its roots in safe Arbors or “Harbors” or Lands and Seas.

Kipling, you are are such an f’ing twit.  We’re still in Afghanistan.  May all of NATO’s men and women in the deserts keep their butts warm and their heads low.

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“It has been a difficult journey to get here.  But the view to the south is pretty sunny.”

relationary

P.S.  You might be wondering about the “Kim Tzu” moniker in my previous post.  Well, I was telling a friend in China about the Country of Canada, the Province of Manitoba and the City of Winnipeg.  One of the things I  told about was the statue that stands atop of the Manitoba Provincial Legislative Building:

winnipeg2

He is called “The Golden Boy” and he stands five metres tall plated in gold holding a torch and a sheaf of wheat running toward Canada’s Northwest.

When I told my friend the name she said “Kim Tzu” which means “Golden Boy”.  Upon hearing this I told her we have a whole province of Golden Boys and Golden Girls.  Even if it’s just a twenty-four karat gold tan.

“Where the Yellow are Mellow”

Reverend Joseph Lowery

relationary.

Links:

Lyrics: Where Have All The Dollars Gone

dollars

based on words and music by Pete Seeger

Where have all the dollars gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the dollars gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the dollars gone?
Gone for spending every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?

Where has all the spending gone?
Long time passing
Where has all the spending gone?
Long time ago
Where has all the spending gone?
Gone to yuan every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?

Where have all the yuan gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the yuan gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the yuan gone?
Gone for savings every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?

Where have all the savings gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the savings gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the savings gone?
Gone to treasuries every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?

Where have all the treasuries gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the treasuries gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the treasuries gone?
Gone for dollars every one
When will we ever learn?
When will we ever learn?

The World Doesn’t Need The United States

divorce

Canadians are the United States closest bad weather friend.  When Pearl Harbor was attacked Canada declared war on Japan before the United States did.  Right now it is time for a bad weather friend to give some harsh advice.

I have been talking with Americans for years.  I have worked in the United States for five years.  And I am certain of one thing.  The Amercian people have taken advantage of the entire world taking every resource there is and giving back next to nothing and now that they are in trouble they are declaring that the world needs them.  They are so afraid to face that fact that the world doesn’t need them, they are willing to make threats of violence even nuclear attack.  I am not talking about Barack Obama.  I am talking about the American on the street.  And that is the true American mentality.

Everywhere I went in the United States and dealt with Americans there was one predominant way of thought.  They did not consider themselves important for helping the world, they considered themselves important because they felt they had the biggest stick.  I never went anywhere in the world where a people were so arrogant as to talk lightly about attacking any nation that did not please them.  Americans have told me they could invade Canada or nuke other countries if they were allowed to suffer hardship.  That is state to state terrorism and you would never win the ground war my American friends.

The United States is like a fat unemployed husband whose wife works and cares for the home and when she attempts to stand up for her rights he beats her.  Now the husband has pissed away all their money on entertainment and when the wife declares she wants a divorce he beats her or threatens to beat her.  The Obama presidency is like the abusive husband’s attempt to be nice until he is able to return to his old ways.  Barack Obama is what little remains of the American conscience and he has only eight years endurance.

If the United States fails economically the world will go through the throws of having left an abusive marriage.  We will have to seek a new home.  We will have to get a new job.  We may even have to evade the abusive ex-husband’s attempts to find us.  But perhaps for ourselves and our children the hardship will be worth it.

Think about it America, we don’t need you.  And you can go down alone.  That is the worst case scenario and it can happen.

Perhaps the United States has to hit bottom before it will reform.

Bureaucracy: Legalism versus Integrity

canadapassport

I discovered a great deal about identity today.

I went to the passport office to renew my Canadian passport.

I was treated very politely and given the necessary form.

I filled it out accurately and completely. Went to the passport officer and presented form, new photos and current passport. She opens the passport and looks at the photo page and says, “This passport is invalid.”

I reply, “I worked in the United States for one year using that passport, the TN1 visa is still inside.”

She says, “You didn’t sign the passport. It’s invalid.”

I think to myself, “I could take the passport outside, sign it and come back in.  In fact, I could take the passport and sign it right in front of her.  There was never a requirement for a witness; it could have been signed by anyone. This policy is retarded.”

She asks me for additional identification. I don’t have a driver’s license because I sold my car and decided I would use public transit. I offer my Social Insurance Card, but the signature has been rubbed off. I offer my birth certificate, but it has no signature. I offer my provincial health card, but it has no signature. I offer my credit card, my debit card and my library card.  I consider my Movie Village card because the signature is laminated.

She takes everything to her manager. She comes back and gives me a slip of paper. “This is the address of the Manitoba Liquor Control Commission. They are on the far side of the city. Have them provide you with a photo ID with your signature and fax me a copy.”

I tell her, “I don’t drink.”

She replies, “You don’t have to.”

I jump on a bus and I go across town. I give the MLCC all the same ID that I gave the passport officer. They have me sign a form and in five minutes I have a photo ID with my signature.  Because the signature pad is electronic and does not provide visual feedback as I am writing I find the first name and last name of my signature overlap.  Maybe it is designed to emulate your signature when you are blind drunk.  I’m over 40 and for the first time I have a card that explicitly states I can legally drink alcohol.

I travel all the way back across town to the passport office. I explain that the passport officer required me to provide another piece of identification. I am directed to a special officer. She makes a photocopy of the MLCC photo ID with signature and says, “Thank you, that’s it.”

Can you explain to me what was achieved by my going to the MLCC which cost me an additional $25 when you include bus fare, which couldn’t have been achieved by me simply signing my passport?

I protected one bureaucrat’s legalism by exploiting another bureaucrat’s legalism.  And the bureaucracy doubled its money.

I will have a renewed passport in two weeks.

They call themselves “public servants”, so why is the public required to jump through mindless hoops to make them appear vigilant?

We do these unnecessary and costly things bureaucrats tell us because we are not willing to sacrifice the greater cost of preserving our integrity and the integrity of policy.

Consequently, the bureaucrat keeps her job, politicians maintain the illusion of governance and we all lose.  Time, money, value.

Will my passport protect me and the global community?  Yes.

Did I also perform a mindless ritual?  Yes.

I believe that a healthy society is regulated by public servants.  However mindless observance of regulations by public servants fails both the public and the policy makers.

Anyone who tells you to violate your integrity to preserve theirs has none.  All they are doing is seeking a bigger piece of the pie at your expense.  It’s a measure of bargaining not morality.

Malcolm Gladwell: The True Meaning of “Gifted”

outliers

Outliers is definitely Malcolm Gladwell’s finest book to date.  And I am going to keep this review really simple, because the simplicity of Malcolm’s book has earned it.  I read the book in one sitting and found myself welcoming the morining sun as I read the last sentences.  I simply could not put the book down.

According to Malcolm, there are two things that make you gifted.  First, why, how, when, who, where, what and how much you were born into and lived in, the gift of your environment.  Second, how many hours you practiced, the gift of hard work.  And the two were interdependent.  There were no born prodigies or self-made successes in this world.  There were instead many world-made, effort-made successes, and repeating world-made, effort-made success was not that difficult.  The world could be tailored to gift most children by grouping them by narrower margins of maturity, going over the material slowly to develop comprehension and then practice, practice, practice at school and at home.  And if the children need a summer break, a change is better than a rest.  Give them two months of educational field trips or meaningful apprenticeships.

There is even a good argument that we should adopt the Cantonese verbal language for our number system.  It would be the greatest leap forward since we adopted Arabic numerals.

I think Outliers is not only recognition that individuals are gifted by the world and practice, it is also a recognition that we are now in a world of competing agri-cultural philosophies.  The West is accustomed to one planting, a unhurried summer, one harvest and a winter’s hibernation.  The East is accustomed to two to three intense plantings, two to three intense cultivations, two to three intense harvests and an intense preparation over a dry season for the next first planting.  Where the West may only have worked 1000 hours annually the East worked 3000 hours annually.  The gap between Western and Eastern philosophies regarding work are just as profound.

Eastern agricultural philosophy makes the Western agricultural philosophy leisurely and statistics make the self-made man delusional.

The one thing left out is which offers the greater quantity and quality of life?  How much time is spent in the play state as opposed to the work state?  Which gifts us a better world?