Axiometry, Part V: “If It Seems Too Good to Be True, It Probably Is.”

"If it seems too good to be true, it probably is."

All of this talk about free stuff has got me thinking about another saying that lots of people seem to live by:

“If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.”

Now, in my post as an optimistic cynic, the impulse behind this saying is spot-on. But as with anything we take as a bit of conventional wisdom, it’s worth unpacking this particular maxim to see if it really makes sense as a guide for how to live one’s life.

And so without further review, it’s time for more axiometry!

A refresher for what it is that we are doing:

Axiom: “A rule or principle that many people accept as true.”

-metry: “Art, process, or science of measuring.”

I want to measure these axioms to determine whether we should accept them as true.

Here we go.

Continue reading “Axiometry, Part V: “If It Seems Too Good to Be True, It Probably Is.””

Reset: Chapter 28: Saturday, September 8, 2001 (1)

img_6849-11

What Joe and Nick had come up with, what they had to report to their team, was that their best bet was to board the planes themselves.

It wasn’t an easy decision to make, and Joe, as the de facto leader, didn’t feel good about asking a bunch of young men to risk their lives combating dangerous terrorists. But with so much at stake he had to swallow his misgivings and do what needed to be done. He wasn’t forcing anybody to do this, after all.

“Not like you haven’t faced awful situations before,” Nick had said as they prepared to turn in for the night.

“Like what?”

Through a huge yawn, Nick said: “Your divorce.”

Dealing with an angry woman who had the law on her side wasn’t pleasant, but it didn’t quite approach the level of murderous religious fanatics. And no matter what he thought about Sandra, she was still the mother of his child. Or she will be. He hoped.

Women were on Joe’s mind as his head hit his pillow. He had a few emails from Gwendolyn wondering where he was and whether he was alright, as well as one terse voice message: “Hi Joe. It’s Gwen. Just wondering where you were. I thought we were going to have lunch today. Please call me when you get this. Okay, bye.”

He didn’t know why the message had bothered him; it wasn’t like they were dating, and he owed her nothing. Sure, it was a little clingy, but she seemed more concerned than anything. He probably shouldn’t leave her hanging, but missing opportunities was his thing, after all.

But their predicament was also a huge opportunity. If they could change external events, it stood to reason that Joe could change himself.

Sleep came as he thought about the impossibility of their task. Nick had found over a dozen flight training schools in Florida, but wasn’t able to find out who the students were. Even if he could have, the plan would require that they flag everybody with an Arabic name, something which would narrow down the field but would likely leave them with too many leads and not enough time.

“We’d have no way of knowing which ones were Saudis either,” Joe had said.

“They weren’t all Saudis though, were they?” said Nick, his hands over his face. “The Saudis funded them, right? Isn’t that what they said?”

“Who the hell knows,” said Joe.

“They were from Egypt or Syria or something . . . Lebanon?”

“What’s the difference,” Joe groaned. At least they had figured out where three of the planes had left from, two from Boston and one from Newark, the one that eventually hits the Pentagon eluding them. It wasn’t a perfect plan, but as Zack said, it seemed to be the least-bad. And if successful, they would be heroes, as long as they weren’t “disappeared” for somehow having insider knowledge of the attacks.

Joe stretched his arms over his head, feeling his breastbone pop with satisfaction. Insane. They were flush with the insanity of youth. Perhaps Joe had fallen on the stoop outside of his old house that morning and was lying on the sidewalk with his brains leaking onto the pavement, and this last week and a half was nothing more than the fever dreams of a dying man. Sometimes that made more sense than being thrown back in time with the rest of the silent, unknowing universe.

Chapter 27                                               Table of Contents                                             Chapter 29

Follow me on Twitter @DaytimeRenegade and Gab.ai @DaytimeRenegade

My YouTube channel is here.

And check out my Instagram here.

Don’t Judge Me!

l_138888_051531_updates

Let’s talk about judgment.

It’s a dirty word these days, a dirty idea. To think, someone will dare tell me how I should do this or that, or that something I think is wrong?

Now extrapolate this concept to the idea of God, and people flip out.

But think about this: Society functions only because of judgment. We have laws and rules. We punish offenders who infringe on the law-abidings’ rights as a matter of course. We even have these people in black robes called “judges,” maybe you’ve heard of them?

And yet, the idea of a God that actually judges us is anathema to many. “It’s not fair!” “It’s mean!” and all of that.

I find this so ridiculous it hurts. It seems like the whinings a of an adolescent who doesn’t want to be held responsible for his actions.

dsc01728

A lot might be a fundamental misunderstanding of how judgment and salvation work. It’s not arbitrary, nor is it reliant on performing just the right actions while saying just the right words.

I think it’s also because the idea of forgiveness is so alien to us Moderns. We don’t even forgive each other—why on Earth would we forgive ourselves, or expect forgiveness from anyone else? Continue reading “Don’t Judge Me!”

Free Stuff

logo

A funny thing happened on the way to being a professional: At conferences and lectures and continuing education courses, organizations just give away a ton of free stuff. Some of it is even useful, the pens and pads of paper, maybe. Others . . . not so much.

We’re talking headphones of dubious quality, tote bags that manage to be bulky and at the same time have so little available space, and drink koozies. Like, hundreds of them. You know, those things used to keep your drinks cold.

pl180520-coors_beer_koozies
Behold! The pinnacle of human ingenuity!

Does anyone actually use these? If so, leave a comment because I’m curious. They just never seemed useful to me.

Anyway, I do have a point here, and that it’s this:

Why do we feel compelled to grab something, no matter how chintzy the quality, just because it’s free? Continue reading “Free Stuff”

Book Review: The Witch’s Gift: A Tale of the School of Spells & War, Book 4 by Morgon Newquist

51wdtdru0pl

Yes, I review books by other people who don’t have the last name “Newquist.” It just so happens that I’m a pretty fast reader and I like to pass along the word about good stuff I think readers of this blog might enjoy. Which brings me to the fourth book in Morgon Newquist’s The School of Spells & War series, The Witch’s Gift.

41yyrbvg0sl-_ux250_
Morgon Newquist

The Witch’s Gift is another of those interstitial character pieces like book two that seem to fall between the more weighty adventuresThe Witch’s Gift picks up after the wizard Alis and the warrior Cahan return from successfully ridding the remote village of Ashfern from the spirit of a malovelent witch. Alis is testing her new powers out on the titular school’s ground when–BOOM!–she causes a gigantic explosion.

It turns out that the witch from Ashfern imbued Alis with her power, and the results are hard to control. Not only that, they’ve caught the attention of the school’s headmaster . . . Continue reading “Book Review: The Witch’s Gift: A Tale of the School of Spells & War, Book 4 by Morgon Newquist”

2018 Is Here!

Happy New Year everyone! It’s 2018, and you know what that means:

Retrospectives and lists!

I’ll spare you the worst of it, but suffice it to say 2017 was a year of good and bad for yours’ truly. The family was reunited, but apartment living in a new city continued to be a drag. We’re working on fixing it, though, so hopefully soon we’ll have a home again.

On the blogging front, 2017 marked my first full year, and it showed an increase in posting activity and visitors. Admittedly, 2016 was skewed when Scott Adams linked to a post, but still, an increase is an increase.

Doing the rough math, this blog averaged about 24 visitors a day in 2017 over about 23 in 2016, but almost 400 more total viewers. Remember also that I started this blog in May of 2016. It’s be more accurate to do a retrospective like this on May of this year, but where’s the fun in that?

Yeah, I’m trying to finesse the numbers. But I’m still happy about the growing readership here. It’s been fun connecting with lots of people, sharing and gaining new ideas and perspectives. For all of you who read and comment and get in touch via social media, know that you’re much appreciated! Continue reading “2018 Is Here!”

Reset: Chapter 27: Friday, September 7, 2001 (2)

img_6849-11

They walked back to Paxton in the fading autumn light, Nick with his hands in his pockets and his head held low. Joe felt hopeful for the first time in days. They had allies, confidants, friends. It was exciting to think that something he had planned was actually going to work out. But there was still so much work to be done. Joe was hungry, yes, but more than eating, he needed to think.

“Want to eat something?” said Nick as they approached the student union building, with that psychic power known only to siblings and best friends.

“We don’t have time to eat,” said Joe.

“You can’t think on an empty stomach. At least I can’t.”

Joe looked up at the building on the hill and shook his head. Jonesy and Carlos had said they were going there to eat too, but Joe didn’t feel much like talking to them. “Nah, I’m alright.”

Nick traced Joe’s line of sight. “You can’t avoid them forever.”

“Why would I be avoiding anyone?”

Nick shrugged. “Do you think we can really do this?”

“Just go eat,” said Joe, perhaps snappier than he intended.

“Don’t get all bitchy, man!”

“I’m not getting bitchy!” said Joe. “But if you’re hungry, eat! Don’t starve on account of me.”

Nick hesitated, slowing a half-step behind Joe, wading in thought. “I don’t care if we eat or not. I just want to talk. That’s all.”

Joe nodded, smiling. They walked the rest of the way to Paxton in silent contemplation.

* * *

“Wow, the Internet sucks in the year 2001. I can’t find a goddamn thing.”

aol_image

Continue reading Reset: Chapter 27: Friday, September 7, 2001 (2)”