Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Season’s Greetings



In Lieu of a Greetings Card*


Often the truth we sadly miss
As we see only what we know.
Nor each occasion could reveal
The gravity of what we feel,
On things we dare and dare not do.
Yet, though in vain, let me express
One simple thought, one sincere wish:
That may with love and peaceful bliss
Replete you find the Holidays!

And may the seasons thereafter
Be seasoned with mirth and laughter.
The rare occasioned somber sky
May not but serve to amplify
The happiness of days gone by,
And glories of unyielding prime,
And promises of days that lie
Uncharted in the blue abyss
And daunting vagaries of Time!

May each grief find sweet redress;
Alien to fears, much less to tears,
May triumphs and exploits increase
All through the fast succeeding years!

H A P P Y   H O L I D A Y S !!!
Merry Christmas & A Most Prosperous New Year to All
=<+>=
*I have circulated this piece every year from way back when I first wrote it in 1980.  This year, though I’m slowing down in the uptick, I don’t find sufficient reason to forbear.  So wherever you are and whatever you are into, may all your endeavors be rewarded with the bounty you so richly deserve, both materially and spiritually.

Considering that my days seem to be loaded with unpredicted (mostly close to emergency) frustrating doctors’ appointments, I deem it prudent to post it earlier than I did in previous years.  These days I never can tell where I might be during the week of Christmas Day to New Year’s Eve.

Incidentally, this piece is also on page 170 of my book released by FriesenPress, Sep-2011.  {Cf. also, http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/flirting-with-misadventures-constancio-sulapas-asumen/1105736537}

Friday, November 22, 2013

JFK Legacy Redux~~It’s Rommel’s Birthday

JFK Legacy Redux~~It’s Rommel’s Birthday

Could not find much else to do, that would not exhaust my reserved energy.   I therefore stayed with TCM (Turner Classic Movies) which, to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the JFK assassination, showed the below selections all of which I saw for the first time.  Ergo it afforded me some entertainment value.  I therefore almost enjoyed the series.  In fact I’d recommend to it to everybody so inclined to watch commercial-free TV.  So check them out when you can.

I threw in the “almost” qualifier because all the while I was thinking it was Rommel’s birthday.  He happens to be my oldest nephew.  He was most instrumental in getting me reconnected to the clan when I needed it most, i.e., in a timely fashion; and at a time when I did not know how.

The information in and of itself is nothing remarkable.  All of us happen to have been born not of our choosing where or when.  We are all historical incidentals unless of course we’re lucky enough to leverage the unfolding and recording of history.

I found it ironical that when your birthday, which by all reckoning has to be one of the most significant events in your life, happens to be coeval with a world historical event, e.g., the assassination of a U.S. President (only twice last century),  it becomes rather difficult to hide your true age.

You might say, whatever for?  Believe me, if you are resourceful and live long enough you’d find instances when the leverage of falsifying your age, in numerical terms, has some advantages.  At least one of my younger brothers can attest to it ~~ good, bad, indifferent or otherwise.


So to Rommel let me say: Happy Half A Century.  May you enjoy as much the second and third halves of a century that’s yet to come.

JFK Legacy Redux~~It’s Rommel’s Birthday

JFK Legacy Redux~~It’s Rommel’s Birthday

Could not find much else to do, that would not exhaust my reserved energy.   I therefore stayed with TCM (Turner Classic Movies) which, to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the JFK assassination, showed the below selections all of which I saw for the first time.  Ergo it afforded me some entertainment value.  I therefore almost enjoyed the series.  In fact I’d recommend to it to everybody so inclined to watch commercial-free TV.  So check them out when you can.

I threw in the “almost” qualifier because all the while I was thinking it was Rommel’s birthday.  He happens to be my oldest nephew.  He was most instrumental in getting me reconnected to the clan when I needed it most, i.e., in a timely fashion; and at a time when I did not know how.

The information in and of itself is nothing remarkable.  All of us happen to have been born not of our choosing where or when.  We are all historical incidentals unless of course we’re lucky enough to leverage the unfolding and recording of history.

I found it ironical that when your birthday, which by all reckoning has to be one of the most significant events in your life, happens to be coeval with a world historical event, e.g., the assassination of a U.S. President (only twice last century),  it becomes rather difficult to hide your true age.

You might say, whatever for?  Believe me, if you are resourceful and live long enough you’d find instances when the leverage of falsifying your age, in numerical terms, has some advantages.  At least one of my younger brothers can attest to it ~~ good, bad, indifferent or otherwise.


So to Rommel let me say: Happy Half A Century.  May you enjoy as much the second and third halves of a century that’s yet to come.

Thursday, November 7, 2013

Decoding the Rollout Debacle

Decoding the Rollout Debacle
XXI
When countless colleagues have besieged your doors
And left wild traces of some User's rage,
Take heed to not translate them to remorse
Nor head off to some sorry escapades.
The force with which most often users plead
Or emphasize the justice of their cause,
Its source, most oft', of good intentions made,
Undoing which cause justice to your use.
Most chances as begot of discontent
Of others, prove best opportunities
To probe the limits of your worth; else, vent
Your umbrage at some worthless legacies:
Such are the monuments of gross incompetence,
Much shame well-hid in codes for else ill-hidden sins!
-- In Search for Reason” {Cf. p. 140 at Flirting with Misadventures}

The histrionics ubiquitous throughout the national landscape over the so-called ObamaCare rollout debacle has been, more than anything else, clinically symptomatic of a national polity who has lost its bearings.  With the notable exception of Pat Buchanan who exhibited an exceptional semblance of equanimity amidst frenzied hysterical call for Secretary Sebelius’ head to roll as just wages for the ObamaCare logistical fiasco, Pat counseled to let her be.  I whole-heartedly concur.

Getting rid of Sec. Sebelius would only allow the administration to replace her with somebody equally as incompetent if not more so.  It would be a worse exercise in futility than re-arranging the chairs on the deck of the Titanic as a countermeasure to the impending plunge into the depths.  It would not cut our (the taxpayers’) loses to a minimum because we the taxpayers still have to pay her for a pension of sorts and pay somebody else to do the job as incompetently.

As it turned out, the main contractor for the ObamaCare rollout had a long-documented history of budget overruns on under-delivered systems, as most recently documented by Mark Styne:

Their most famous government project was for the Canadian Firearms Registry. The registry was estimated to cost in total $119 million, which would be offset by $117 million in fees. That’s a net cost of $2 million. Instead, by 2004 the CBC (Canada’s PBS) was reporting costs of some $2 billion — or a thousand times more expensive.

It takes unmitigated temerity, if not utter stupidity, deemed normal for any regime of bureaucrats and government functionaries to entrust the implementation of its signature Legislative policy achievement to a company of kindred sterling reputation.  Huckleberry Finn would not entrust the repairs of his slingshot to an outfit with such a track record.  But then again, Huck Finn was not an Obama Regime apparatchik.  Rather, he was the epitome of American pragmatism. 

He was the prototypical American with skills, who “You send them into the wilderness with a pocket knife and a Q-tip and they build you a shopping mall.”  Obamism has no room for the Americanism which has served as the foundation of global American hegemony, which candidate Obama vowed to cut down to size, and Pres. Obama profusely apologized for in public, every time he found a convenient platform.

Lest we get sidetracked, it behooves to emphasize that in the canonical annals of the Systems Development Life Cycle (SDLC), the product owner is always the stake holder who oversees and underwrites the development.  Who ultimately ends up doing the dirty deed is a personnel decision, a matter of resource deployment and allocation.  The Department of Health and Human Services (DHHS) was the system owner of record at every stage of SDLC.  The choice of personnel to delegate mission critical projects to is reflective of executive managerial acumen which the Obama Regime time and again had proved to be in woeful deficit.

The fact that all levels of testing including unit, integration, regression, performance and UAT (user acceptance testing) have been established gospel in SDLC seemed to have been swept under the rugs, in an attempt to provide excuses for the rollout fiasco.  Of the above testing modalities, UAT is the most crucial.  Without it, there is no justification for any systems rollout.  Conversely, if you attempt a systems rollout, it is prima facie evidence that adequate UAT was passed with flying colors.

GIGO, an axiomatic acronym in the province of systems development, was always taken to mean, “garbage in, garbage out,” or “gospel in, gospel out,” but never “garbage in, gospel out.”  An algorithm that would effectively cleanse or purify the content from whatever inherent conceptual sins is yet to be invented.  This was largely the reason that the acolytes of Global Warming miserably failed in their attempt to fudge the data to prove that the paradigm of anthropogenic global warming was an accepted settled science. {Cf. e.g., “Consensus Does Not a Science Make,” Ch 20 pp. 263ff at Flirting with Misadventures also see, http://www.newmediajournal.us/staff/asumen/2009/11272009.htm }.

The redistributionist mechanism that is embedded in ObamaCare is precisely the kind of content garbage, the “ill-hidden sins,” that the system attempts to bury so that it is implemented unbeknownst to the user, i.e. the insurance consumers or policy holders.  In the succinct formulation of Charles Krauthammer, “. . . [The] three pillars of Obamacare: (a) mendacity, (b) paternalism and (c) subterfuge” were the sins that the insurance policy cancellations laid bare.  And, as I emphasized earlier elsewhere {Cf. p. 211 at Flirting with Misadventures}, ‘. . . President Obama is the Zen Master of “the nexus of political subterfuge so effectively employed by both Lenin and Stalin against their rivals to pull off the Bolshevik revolution.”’

In order to fix the logistics woes of the ObamaCare rollout, this nation has to fix the ideological underpinnings of the Statist Regime which mandate that the health of the citizenry should be managed by the government.  This requires cleansing the national psyche of the culture of dependency and parasitic opportunism that Obamism has perpetrated on the national polity.

This should start with garnering a veto-proof majority in the House and getting a GOP majority in the Senate.  Otherwise, it might be far easier or more politically convenient to succumb to the fatalistic resignation and comfort of surrender:
One might argue: Why get so annoyed?
Tough work to pursue, tougher still unemployed
What with inflation going up by the hour
'Tis no simple mission to get worth for your dollar.

Well, then, it is obvious, there isn't any choice;
Methinks it takes genius, takes cunning otherwise;
Some take the drudgery, all day, nine to five,
Mischief and trickery, nay, sin to survive!

-- “Worker’s Lament” {Cf. p. 171 at Flirting with Misadventures}

Thursday, October 24, 2013

Bluff & Bluster over the Broken Pottery Rule

Bluff & Bluster over the Broken Pottery Rule
Beyond reform is your predicament,
It's time you venture forth a better way!
Nor tears of bitterness, nor mute lament
Can free you from your own captivity!
That captors are your very native sons
Is but insult added to injury
And no excuse for patient tolerance
Nor cause to languish in your misery.
With debtors' need false leaders agonize,
For credits, they may make your people bleed;
Bleeding, you may yet seek to galvanize
To life true leaders of a bolder breed:
By visionary men are nations built
Thy lack of vision is this nation's guilt!!

When the Costa Concordia ran aground off the coast of Tuscany, properly constituted authorities sought to indict neither the navigator nor the purser for the tragedy.  Nor was the incident explained away by any distractive activities on board the vessel or the nefarious alignment of the stars that imposed the Friday-the-13th date and all the evil influences attributed thereto from superstitious antiquity.

Despite well documented attempts to pass the blame to the helmsman, Capt. Francesco Schettino, was held accountable both by the state authorities and the established media, traditionally the advocate for and custodian of the truth in chronicling momentous events, especially ones with tragic consequences.
The Pottery Barn Rule is as old, if not older, an Americanism as the Declaration of Independence itself.  It was most recently notably popularized by then State Secretary Colin Powell in the run up to the Iraqi War.  But if Juan Williams and his usual-suspects cohorts of self-anointed Obama Acolyte Apologists have their way, that Americanism too soon shall be vanished from the National Lexicon, along with any notion of accountability.

Short of appointing a Scapegoat-in-chief as a cabinet post, the Obama Regime has done every conceivable thing in the sun to buttress the firewall insulating his Regime from any and all untoward unintended consequences that could possibly tarnish his Regime’s legacy.   A prominent aspect of that legacy is the successful damning down and draining out of traditional sensibilities from the long-chronically dyslexic American soul.

When the national landscape is finally drained off of the quagmire that is the Obama Legacy, only the fatalism of Omar Khayyam would be appropriate to pay tribute to the national folly of installing twice, by Affirmative Action, a blatant incompetent as President:

LXVIII 
We are no other than a moving row 
Of Magic Shadow-shapes that come and go 
Round with the Sun-illumined Lantern held 
In Midnight by the
Master of the Show.

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Calibrating Entitlement Expectations

I believe that much of my socioeconomic station in life was not realized by my own doing, but was accidental or due to my being in the right place at the right time.
--Namit Arora, What Do We Deserve?

And who will join this standing up
and the ones who stood without sweet company
will sing and sing
back into the mountains and
if necessary
even under the sea
We are the ones we have been waiting for

Growing up in a farming/fishing village, where the nearest neighbor was three bends of the meandering creek away, or three hilltops on the mountain path away, or a decent downwind blow of the conch horn on a fair and sunny day, your first lessons on the wherefores of it all inevitably came from your parents.  By “all” I mean the incessant beginning and ending of life all around you, if you happen to be in a flourishing farm environment.
This would put you at a distinct disadvantage.  As a sentient and observant being, you knew that you as a child had been under the protective custody of your parents.  Your needs were being provided for by them.  You were sheltered from potential harm and the pain it usually entailed.  You were being taken care of by them.  Providing for your well-being was, prima facie, their utmost concern in life.
It however, begs one important question: what if you were not particularly thrilled at being alive?  What if you don’t particularly enjoy your lot in life?
I assert, contend and maintain that every person in this God’s Great Creation is legitimately entitled to only one thing, namely, why without being first consulted, you were brought into being?  Every parent owes it to his/her child at least an attempt at a coherent explanation.  Or, in the more esoteric formulation of Omar Khayyam,
XXIX 
Into this Universe, and Why not knowing 
Nor Whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing; 
And out of it, as Wind along the Waste, 
I know not Whither, willy-nilly blowing. 


XXX 
What, without asking, hither hurried Whence? 
And, without asking, Whither hurried hence! 
Oh, many a Cup of this forbidden Wine 
Must drown the memory of that insolence! 

Above and beyond that one question, everything else is governed by societal mores, more subject to generational nuance than being cast in marble.  Admittedly, if we as a generation had created entitlement expectations much more than what we can reasonably deliver upon, then we as a generation had failed in our duty to hand down a world much better than we found and inherited from our parents.

Monday, September 23, 2013

A Light at the End of the Tunnel



It was such a relief to confirm that the proverbial Light at the End of the Tunnel” was not an oncoming train.  It simply is the difference between what the letters “R” and “S” signify in the acronyms MRSA and MSSA.  The former stands for “Resistant.”  The latter stands for “Susceptible.”  They are in fact exact opposites as far as bacterial behavioral patterns go.

The error was not borne of panic at what I earlier characterized to be a near-doomsday scenario.   Rather, it was simply forgetting to apply the most popular of Reaganisms in Foreign Policy, namely, “Trust but Verify.”  It all started with the tiny print in the thirteen-page “Clinical Report” from the hospital.  When the home health care nurse read the diagnosis allowed as “high grade MRSA,” it sounded very similar to what I heard discussed about when I was in the Critical Care Unit ward at Stony Brook University Hospital.

Thanks to the feisty reaction by my wife, Krystyna, at the full implications of having to live with somebody infected with MRSA in the same household.  It meant she had to maintain two sets of dishes and utensils, two sets of laundry, and to disinfect my footsteps with Clorox or Lysol anywhere I’d venture within the house.  She adamantly felt that the health care system had no business sending me home if I had MRSA.  I should have been institutionalized so that I did not become a threat to family and friends and the community-at-large.

She was prepared to do battle with anyone who disagreed with her when she telephoned my Infectious Diseases physician.  The good doctor promptly assured her that somebody made a mistake somewhere because he was the one who wrote the “Clinical Report” and there was no mention of MRSA in it.

Independently, I started examining the fine print that I heretofore entrusted to the nurse.  I was relieved to find no mention of MRSA therein but only MSSA.  While this allows me to approach my 69th year in the sun on somewhat a different light, I’m getting more curious to hear from Rommel about his conversation with the attending physician at Stony Brook.

Someone somewhere in this entire episode failed to communicate accurately.  No wonder my daughter, Renata, is sporting for a fight and busily looking for a medical malpractice lawyer she could rely on.  Volunteers, or referrals anyone?