Planck's Constant

Relocation

I relate to this one. The only thing missing is a guitar case.

US Navy Smokers

Back in the dark ages before everyone flipped out over sex and politics, I served in the US Navy. It was hard but I didn’t know any better and so I prospered once I got to know the ropes, so to speak. Navy bases, ships, and Marine compounds had post exchanges where one could purchase whatever one needed, like gedunk (candy), sodas, uniforms and civilian clothing, stereo gear, laundry services, and even a bus ticket home at Christmas. Bases had gymnasiums, and pool halls, and a football field, and tennis courts too. All sorts of traditions went along with that stuff. One of the lesser known of these were Navy “smokers”.

Smokers were pre-arranged boxing matches that existed from the early 1900s up through the Vietnam War. These athletic competitions were held every other Friday in the evenings and always drew a large crowd. Everybody likes a good fight. Sailors who became crossways with another shipmate could throw down a challenge and the two would meet up and lace up a pair of gloves and then have it out inside a roped ring complete with a referee and a bloodthirsty crowd. It was great fun and a choice way to blow off steam and settle a score.

Teddy Roosevelt was a huge boxing fan and figured the smokers would be a great way to enhance morale and camaraderie during peacetime training. In 1908, he directed naval captains to start incorporating Smokers into the naval routine.

The matches were a hit with the Navy, evolving into formal prizefighting spectacles and even formal boxing tourneys against the Royal Navy.

Boxing is a sport that empowers human ambition and drive unlike any other form of activity. The physical preparation boxers make before a fight is unparalleled and the adrenaline rush after a well-deserved victory is irreplaceable.

By the end of the Spanish-American war, the US Navy occupied the Dominican Republic and sent a heavy naval force along the shores of this small Caribbean island in order to protect the US government’s financial interest.

Everything seemed to be going according to Roosevelt’s plan until one match went too far and turned fatal on July 8, 1908, aboard the USS Yankee. On July 8, 1908, onlookers cheered and mocked the fighters as the contestants took the stage. Raphael Cohen, a Jewish coal shoveler on the USS Yankee, awkwardly took the ring, awaiting the confident Jordan R. Johnson, a black gunners-mate from the USS Olympia, whose experience could be seen in his cold, unbroken deathly glare.

Both men came from humble beginnings, hardened by their fair share of turmoil, which may have been what brought them into the ring – or as the fighters would call it, the circle of truth. Johnson joined the military at age 15 and quickly became a victim of physical abuse by his fellow shipmates. This was easily identifiable by unexplained scars on his ribs, abdomen, and neck. Growing up, Johnson spent nights shackled in irons, which turned him into a hardened fighter and earned him fear and respect on the Olympia. The ship’s decks became his training ground as he fought anyone who would meet him.

Cohen, on the other hand, was a young man looking for his identity, merely trying to to find where he belonged in this testosterone-heavy environment. After marrying at a young age, he believed the Navy would turn him into a man (or at least the man he thought he should be) so he searched to prove to himself that he was tough enough to hang with the other fighters.

Both fighters were eager to get the fight going once the bell rang. The fully-charged Cohen fearlessly ran straight at Johnson, whose patience and experience kept him calm throughout the exchange. They fought hard, throwing caution to the wind, and neither giving in as the rounds continued.

Hundreds of sailors and Marines went wild as the two boxers pummeled one another. As each round continued, the crowd could see Cohen weakening. Even the referee questioned Cohen’s condition before allowing him to remain in what would become Cohen’s last stand.

By the eighth round, Cohen had enough, finally slumping to the ground after a crisp shot to the temple landed by Johnson left him unable to continue. Johnson was victorious. Cohen was raised onto a stool and carried out of the ring. Two hours later, he was pronounced dead in the medical bay.

An autopsy revealed the cause of death as a massive blood clot found inside of Cohen’s brain, attributed to the excessive beating he received. Captain Edward Francis of the USS Yankee later denied all involvement with the organization of the fight and reported Cohen’s death as “not in the line of duty.”

Cohen’s remains were buried in the Dominican Republic but later sent back to his family in New York in 1911. His remains were finally laid to rest in Maimonides Cemetery in Brooklyn. Jordan Johnson was cleared of all wrongdoing and left the Navy a year later. In 1929, Johnson passed away at the young age of 46, leaving the events of that day as a piece of untold military history.

This tragic event did not end Navy Smokers, but it persuaded commanders to insure men were adequately matched and protected by knowledgeable and experienced referees. Yet, the end of Smokers did arrive in the years following the Vietnam war as political correctness and the installation of females aboard Navy warships intervened.

Now, I hear tell of some installations that still employ Smokers, though it’s hard to say exactly where and when. Naturally, I am old school and believe Smokers invoke a warrior spirit and camaraderie. Maybe we should bring ‘em back and let the men be men again. What do you think?

Aristotle vs. Plato

In the Garden of Allah

The Dunning-Kruger Effect

The Dunning-Kruger effect is a cognitive bias where people with low ability in a specific area overestimate their skills, while those with high ability may underestimate theirs. This occurs due to a lack of self-awareness and metacognition, making it difficult for individuals to accurately assess their own competence.

Jerzy Kosinski

Jerzy Kosinski (born June 14, 1933, Łódź, Poland—died May 3, 1991, New York, New York, U.S.) was a Polish-born American writer whose novels were sociological studies of individuals in controlling and bureaucratic societies.

Kosinski (real name Lewinkopf) was born to a Jewish family in Poland. According to him, at the age of six, upon the outbreak of World War II, he was separated from his parents and wandered through Poland and Russia, living by his wits and under threat of being discovered and killed by the Nazis. He became mute and did not regain his speech until 1947. However, it was later revealed that during the war he had remained with his parents. Facing persecution by the Nazis, the family had adopted a new surname (Kosinski) and, at times, been forced into hiding.

From 1950 to 1955 Kosinski studied at the University of Łódź, receiving two M.A. degrees, in history and political science, and from 1955 to 1957 he was professor of sociology at the Polish Academy of Sciences. In 1957 he emigrated to the United States (settling in New York), taught himself English, and published two nonfiction works, The Future Is Ours, Comrade: Conversations with the Russians (1960) and No Third Path (1962), under the pen name Joseph Novak.

Kosinski then took the literary world by storm with The Painted Bird (1965), a graphic account of the horrific experiences of a Jewish child left to fend for himself in World War II; the novel was widely believed to be autobiographical, though Kosinski was vague when asked. This was followed by Steps (1968), which won the National Book Award, and Being There (1971; film 1979), a satiric fable about Chance, a simple-minded gardener whose innocence, shallow platitudes, and total dependence on television for his vision of the world are interpreted as evidence of profound genius by socialites, business leaders, and politicians. Kosinski had less success with his later novels, The Devil Tree (1973; revised 1981), Cockpit (1975), Passion Play (1979), Pinball (1982), and The Hermit of 69th Street (1988).

In later years Kosinski was an active member of several Polish-Jewish foundations and was president (1973–75) of the American branch of the international writers organization PEN. His reputation, however, was badly damaged in 1982, when The Village Voice ran an article that questioned the authorship of his works, notably claiming that others wrote significant portions of his books. Kosinski denied the allegations. Suffering from a deteriorating heart condition, he committed suicide by asphyxiation in 1991.

Cockpit (1971) -- A Review

Kosinski’s protagonist in Cockpit is an honest-to-God sociopath, a conman, a murderer, as well as a man totally devoid of sympathy or remorse. He is a Lothario type of character but because his emotions are never fully revealed, it’s difficult to ascertain his motives for the things that he does. And those things are quite nasty. He takes revenge and destroys people's lives without regard. He is a character without heart or soul who plays with people, creeping into their lives, gaining trust with growing influence until he has full control.

He scams his victims and pretends to be someone he is not by using false identities and always covering his tracks. His antics do not seems to be about gaining wealth; instead, it’s more like some personal vendetta against humanity itself.

As an example: he dresses as a mailman in order to steal bags of letters which he opens and reads. if they interest him, he finds the addressee and finds a way to enter their life. As I said, it’s not necessarily about stealing wealth by gaining confidence, rather he does it because he enjoys the game of it.

There isn't really a distinct plot to Cockpit, at least, in the traditional sense. The book describes events in no seeming order so if you want a straightforward read with a solid beginning, middle, and end, this one is not for you.

The protagonist of Cockpit is basically a sociopath. He creates elaborate schemes that end with a woman of his choice getting sexually involved with him. At times, Cockpit is almost painful to read, but it's also very interesting, because we're seeing into his mind, and even if we can't understand why he's doing what he’s doing, we can see part of his reasoning, and it's really fascinating, like watching a train wreck.

Additionally, it is revealed that our protagonist used to be part of some clandestine government agency, but somehow he managed to break away from that life while still requiring him to constantly relocate, always uprooting his life and creating new identities. He's really good at it. He can walk into a bar with one identity, talk with the bartender, and leave, then come back in a different disguise with another voice and persona and the bartender is none the wiser.

It sounds horrific, I know, but it is well-written and plus, it's highly entertaining. The story is vicious and mean -- I even feel a little ashamed I enjoyed it so much because the protagonist is such a horrible person.

After reading the first three pages, you should know what you're getting into.

Tragedy Set to Music