The Law of Diminishing Return

I've been thinking a lot lately about the Law of Diminishing Return. Not in the economical sense. For those who need a refresher in the law, Jack Aaronson on clickz.com gives this definition, which of all the definitions, I think he hit it head on best: "The Law of Diminishing Returns (anticipated by Anne Robert Jacques Turgot and implied by Thomas Malthus in 1798) states that increasing one variable of an equation while keeping the rest of the variables constant will eventually yield a result opposite the intended purpose of the variable change. In plain English, it simply means sometimes, you can push an idea too far."

I am quite experienced in the practice of pushing an idea too far. Overstaying my welcome is another skill I have, right up there with not knowing when to shut-up. In their way, they are all examples of the Law of Diminishing Returns outside the scope of economics.

The US involvement in Iraq is a political example of the Law. At first, many people were more or less happy we were there. Then after it just wouldn't end and kept getting worse, nearly everybody has grown unhappy. You could say that the 2006 elections were the Law of Diminishing Return in action: people voted their dismay over Iraq. For that mattter, they voted their irritation with the Evenagelicals' influence during the last six years of W's presidency; the Law of Diminishing Return can bite you in the ass if you push your idea too far. Remember Terry Schiavo? The voters did.

On a personal level, here’s how the Law of Diminishing Return works in my social life: I go to a party. I have a drink. My tongue is loosened just enough. I strike up a conversation. The person I’m talking to is laughing. Maybe S/he think that I’m actually charming. I have another drink. “Oh dear, she’s not so charming, after all,” the other person thinks. The wine has loosed up my tongue, my brain, and my ego. Maybe I’m bragging about something useless. Maybe I am hogging the conversation. S/he is bored. S/he see a wadded up napkin on the floor across the room. “Excuse me,” S/he says. “I need to do something.” S/he leaves me for the wadded up napkin, throwing it in the trash. S/he would rather do house work (and it’s not their house) than talk to me. Hence, Law of Diminishing Return.

As I reflect back on my Thanksgiving Holiday, I naturally recite the things I’m grateful for. Toes. Fingers. Breath. Moderately good health. Gilmore Girls. 2005 Acacia Chardonnay. Aspirin. Finally, though, I am grateful for those who stick around even when the Law of Diminishing Return on knowing me kicks in.

Say Hi to a New Member of Team La Blogda

My pal F______ is cantankerous, opinionated, acerbic, and can make your toes curl with his commentary on politics and society. So naturally, I invited him to be a member of Team La Blogda. He accepted, asking if I would mind if he stirred the pot up. I said not at all, as long as you don't comment on any of my "cat has herpes" posts. That's the only sacred thing to me, everything else if fair game.

Oh, and I forgot to add that if I lean to the left a bit, he leans to the right a tad. So we'll probably never completely agree on squat, but we may come close.

Welcome to the neighborhood old pal.

Stupid Guy Rocks Literary World

There's a story floating around the blogosphere about exiled Kenyan Novelist Ngugi wa Thiong'o, who was in San Francisco promoting his novel, "Wizard of the Crow". The author was staying at the Hotel Vitale, which, as a former San Franciscan, is a place I'd consider staying due to its great location. Anyway, a Kenyon paper reported that the author was sitting in a common area of the hotel and was confronted by a hotel employee who said, "This place is for guests of the hotel. You must leave."

It's been reported that the author asked, "what makes you think I'm not a guest." I can't find an answer to the employee's answer. The incident has been described as racist, and the hotel is under fire from critics who want an apology in a local paper.

The management responded by apologizing to the author, and by promising to review its diversity policy.

I don't mean to be insensitive, and I am aware of Nguigu wa Thiong'o literary contributions and the fact that he's fought racism all his life, but this seems to be quit an over-reaction to the acts of one individual. Everyone has stupid employees. My company, which has about 50 employees, has about 45 that are really stupid, and on any given day, they screw things up but good. However, I live in Vegas so the per capita ratio of stupid people is unfair comparison to a town like San Francisco - we clearly win.

Comparisons aside, I have trouble with the criticism's against the hotel. They've distanced themselves from the act of this employee, but they need to take in one step further and fire him (and they may already have, I don't know, I can't find anything on the Internet). If they have not, then that is what they should be criticized for. Not just because he went up to an African gentlemen and told him to leave. The employee should be fired for being stupid. For jumping the gun. The first question or comment should have been something to ascertain if the gentlemen was indeed a guest, if there was any doubt.

So once again, someone does not do his or her job right and all hell breaks loose. Next thing you know, I'm blogging about it.

Um, Is It April 1?

Are ya'll pulling my leg? The news today is too good to be true. I was a happy camper when I found out the Dems took over the House and was content to leave things there, but . . .

The Dems take control of the Senate?

Rumsfeld steps down?

W admits he lied about Iraq and then takes a swipe at Rove?

Come on. I am not a strong person. I could stroke out any minute.

If this were a musical, I'd break into song. Oh happy day . . . .

I Could Cry I'm So Happy

Thank you you wonderful voters.

I admit, I did not follow the election results past about 5:00 last night as I had one horrible headache. I was asleep from about 6-7, woke up, forgot there was an election, watched my usual reruns of Gilmore Girls (an addiction worse than dope) then went back to bed and started reading. I completely forget it was election night at that point.

So I woke this morning, remembered, went online and saw the glorious headlines about the Dems taking the House. Maybe there is a God. Maybe Jesus does love us. As for Justice, I'm becoming a true believer.

Wow.

It's a good day.

Hussein Gets Death

After all that has happened in Iraq, today's news that Saddam is to be hanged is definitely a bright spot for a lot of people, Shiites and Americans, and most everyone except for his nutty supporters. Normally, you would never hear me say that someone being sentenced to death is a good thing, but come on, it's Saddam Hussein for crying out loud. Even the most ardent opponent of the death penalty has to be okay with this.

An article in the NYT describes the elation the Shiites are experiencing: "Spontaneous celebrations broke out across Iraq in spite of an around-the-clock curfew imposed on the capital and other regions. People fired pistols and assault rifles into the air in a common gesture of jubilation. Residents of Sadr City, a Shiite bastion in northeastern Baghdad, flooded the streets in defiance of a curfew, whooping and dancing and sounding car horns. Even some Shiite police officers joined in the revelry, firing their weapons in the air."

It's a good day to be alive. Unless you are a crazed maniac like Saddam.

Stuck in the Middle with You

I have been thinking a lot lately about that song, "Stuck in the Middle with You." I didn't like it 100 years ago, and I can't say I like it now.

It does, however, seem to sum up the feeling of many tried and true Republicans these days. With the upcoming elections, they will vote Republican, again, because this is all they know. Forget Iraq, forget that their leaders are being proven hypocrites caught in silly gay sex scandals, forget Terry Shiavo and all the false morality that in its darkest hour is never as satisfying as an old episode of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer."

I've voted Republican. I was embarrassed, but I've done it. Never in a presidential election, but in Senate races.

I've voted Democrat.

There is something about voting Democrat that makes me proud, even amidst chubby intern sex scandals and whatever wimpy half-hearted policy they are promoting.

It says I'm an idealist. It says I have hope. Sometimes, it says, I'm stupid.

Voting Republican says you are angry. You have a lot of hate issues. You don't like change, you want the status quo. You want your gay sex in the closet, and you wear your Jesus on your sleeve.

I read a good line recently in a book of short stories, "The Littlest Hitler," by Ryan Boudinot. I can't remember word for word, but it was something to the effect of "I knew then what if felt like to be Bruce Springsteen."

As a serious music lover, voting Republican is a little like voting for Jessica Simpson. Good package, bad music.

When I cast my ballot for a Democrat, usually (not always - it depends on the person) I feel like Bruce at his best - in Badlands. "I don't give a damn, for the same old played out scenes, baby I don't give a damn for anything. I want the heart I want the soul I want control right now."

Now that's passion. Okay, no Democrat is that good to inspire such great lyrics, except Carter and in glimpses, Clinton, but it's the feeling I get voting for those other lovable losers. That sense of hope, that sense that everything will be okay, and that life won't beat you down, and that the fat chick who heads up operations in my office will get fired, along with her fake laugh, her delusions, her numerous and cheap diamond chips and her in-your-face Republican attitude of "I'm rich, spoiled and entitled."

Voting Democrat is not about voting for the Democrats. It's about voting against the Republican. It's that feeling that the bad guys will go down and you, my friend, will be skimming down Thunder Road like a Spirit in the Night.

We'll see what the upcoming election brings. My guess? More bad music. Stuck in the Middle with Voters Making Bad Choices.

Haggard Prefers Meth to Gays

What a statement Ted Haggard has made. He would rather confess to doing meth than to doing men. Now, maybe he is telling the truth, but wow, if I were him I'd say, yep, I like guys. Beats admitting that you do Meth - truly, only the lowest of life forms do meth, that and college kids out for a little experimentation. I can't even think of a funny angle on this, so I'm just going to have to play it straight. Oh, pardon the pun.

I Hate the Chinese Government

Can someone tell me what China is good for? They have a superior race complex, their government is greedy, corrupt and frankly, their attitude towards women is third-world. And pork knuckles and jellyfish may be a delicacy to them, but my Southern grandma would have called is slop and fed it to the yard dogs.

I have to work with the Beijing government on a trade show that we want to do in a week, and in the last five days, our packages for the show can't clear customs. We were asked to fill out forms, massive forms, which was done promptly. Then tonight at 8:00 (Friday!) I get a call at home from one of the contacts over there saying there is an error in the form, they won't tell me what, and that we have to resubmit them. And by the way, we also have to pay 3K to get the boxes released because of all these last minutes "fees" they have, which amount to nothing more than blackmail.

When I think of Beijing, I think of tanks running over students. I think of grime and graft. I think of men with small penises and women who are either submissive or dragon ladies - both reactions to the men with small penises. I think of bok choy, the only vegetable that smells worse than cabbage. Now, add to that, I think of the most inefficient, bumbling yet some however evil government officials -- Barney Fife meets Damien -- I have ever had the displeasure of knowing. Thank you, China, for making me proud to be an American. Get Toby Keith on the phone, we are going to sing a duet.

I have suggested to my boss that we not pay the fees and walk away from the show, not paying them another dime. Asia is huge, and it is a great market to explore if you have the stomach. Me, I'm still on antacid from my last show in Asia 6 weeks ago.

Bible Thumper Thumps Guys

What is it with evengelicals and sex? They really, really, really like to get their groove on, especially if it is with a hooker, or if it gay sex.

Have any studies been done to show that there is a link between a Jones for Jesus and well, a Jones?

Ted Haggart, paster of New Life Church, has allegedly paid for sex 3 times over the past three years with a guy.

Haggart, a married pop of five is one of the evangelicals' top dog bible thumpers. He also has been an opponent of same sex marriages.

I think the media is being too hard on him personally. Come on, maybe he's just a player - loves to play but doesn't want a commitment. Except for that wife thing with the five kids.

Post-Halloween Confession

If you've read this blog, you know I'm not a fan of kids. Babies, toddlers, children, teens -- they bug me. Yeah I know, I was once a kid. I'm sure I had horrible self-loathing issues, but I don't remember because it was 100 years ago.

Last night, I did not want trick or treaters at my door, so I kept all the lights off in the house, and watched reruns of Gilmore Girls (Rory annoys me, but I watch it anyway. Like any addiction, it hurts).

Today, I find out that in Vegas -- and maybe this is everywhere -- sex offenders cannot turn on their lights in their house on Halloween or answer their door. So I'm wondering, of all the misperceptions and bad impressions I've given my neighbors, do the now think I'm a sex offender? Or just that grouchy witch at the end of the street?