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Monday, December 16, 2019



THE COMPULSIONS TO CHASE RAINBOWS

OR

THE MIKADO EFFECT OF TODAY AND BEYOND


James R. Fisher, Jr., Ph.D.
© December 16, 2019




HENRY WRITES

Maybe you’ll like this. Maybe not at all. At any rate, here it is.

Best,

Henry

P.S. Yes, cleaning shelves and memories ...




With malice toward none  

      ....  





Pick-up sticks, randomly heaped. (Source)



Pick-up sticks are dropped on a table or floor to form a loose pile. Players take turns trying to remove one without disturbing others. A stick's color code indicates its value. The most valuable stick is often called "Mikado" (Emperor of Japan).  

In real life there are many issues that concern us. Some now, others then. Circumstances change, priorities change. Years ago, I took some notes about various issues. Topping the list:

      pollution killing off our food chain,
      climate change,
      large-scale burning of our forests,
      nuclear warfare.

to be followed by:

      artificial intelligence and robotics,
      armed conflict and terrorism,
      mass migrations of people,
      fear and hatred among population groups,
      poor judgement by people and governments,
      poor appreciation of good citizenship.  

Many sticks and others still—long sticks, short sticks, fat stick, thin sticks, straight sticks, crooked sticks. And yet to be mentioned: inadequate education and corrupted media. How, in real life, do we decide in wfleabyte.orghat order problems need to be tackled so as not to critically disturb the others. All the while keeping an eye on happenings elsewhere.  

Mikado has its rules. Real-world Mikado vastly more. It also has cheaters. Every rule challenged by cheaters. "Money is the root of all evil," an old adage goes. Close, but no cigar; people are.  

There was once an emperor who loved new, ever more beautiful attire, which he would show off to one and all. Hans Christian Andersen wrote about him—back in 1837, if you want to know.  

Sorry, I am an old fogey and often get mixed up a bit. Andersen wrote many children's stories, mirrors for all to reflect in. From the downtrodden to the very fittest, who are not to be toyed with. Excellency’s, Honorable’s, you know, and mere multibillionaires of course.  

"The Emperor's new clothes" is also about two weavers who claimed to make clothes from the finest silk from China. And not only that. Their clothes would be invisible to anyone incompetent for the job he or she is supposed to do. Of course, when the Emperor heard about this he hired them instantly and gave them room to work and vast sums of money to buy those silks. Did he ever look forward to find those incompetent for their job!  

Word got around about those magic clothes. When finally the day came for the Emperor to put on his new clothes, lighter even than a feather, the Emperor was shocked to not be able to see them. So were all his ministers, his cooks, and his generals. But, of course, they all kept quiet about that. Everybody praised the Emperor's new clothes, the beautiful colors, the patterns, and the cut. Everybody agreed that the weavers deserved the highest order of the land and to be named Honorable Weavers of State.  

Time came for the Emperor to put in a public appearance. Parading for his subjects in the Imperial Plaza, no one dared to say that the Emperor walked about in his underwear. Nobody wanted to be found unfit for the job they were supposed to do. Absolutely nobody; not until a school-aged girl shouted "But he isn't wearing anything at all!" Then others followed her lead, "The Emperor isn't wearing anything at all!  

Loudest were the Emperor's Weftist minsters. His Warpists, however, denounced the Weftists' obvious incompetence. And the rest of the story has been going on till this very day and will go on in the time yet to come. Which leaves untouched our Mikado sticks.  
I'm Hans Christian Andersen,
            I've many a tale to tell.
      And though I'm a cobbler,
            I'd say I tell them rather well ....

      
I write myself a note each day,
            and I place it in my hat.
      The wind comes by, the hat blows high,
            but that not the end of that.
      For 'round and 'round the world it goes,
            it lands here right behind myself,
      I pick it up, and I read the note,
            which is merely to remind myself:
     
I'm Hans Christian Andersen,
            Andersen, that's me!

      
I'm Hans Christian Andersen,
            my pen's like a babbling brook
      Permit me to show you, Dear Sir,
            my very latest book.
      Now here's a tale of a simple fool;
            just glance at a page or two.
      You laugh "Ha Ha" but you blush a bit
            for you realize while you're reading it
            that it's also reading you.
      I'm Hans Christian Andersen,
            Andersen, that's who!


Danny Kaye
,


"Hans Christian Andersen" (movie, 1952)  






© Henry K van Eyken <vaneyken@sympatico.ca>http://fleabyte.org/My-2-cents/Myworld/blog-18.html



MY RESPONSE


Henry,

As usual, this is precious. Hans Christian Andersen touched a common cord to us all.

Only this past week, with our daughter and her husband visiting us from New Jersey, where she is a project manager of an interior design company and he an electronic engineer for Siemens, originally from Turkey, and curious about such things as this story reveals, asked me, “Jim, why are so many people two faced or three faced?”

Well, Hans Christian Andersen knew why. I explained to him that people forget that they are born with their essence, their DNA, which they cannot change, but they have an acquired self, their personality, which they cannot only change, but do so constantly throughout life.

They have a personality for work, when with family and friends, when around strangers, in a crowd, and when alone. To make the matter more complicated, even these dispositions change radically, or subtly over time, often, without our being aware of the changes.

Personality is like your Emperor and his clothes faddish. What my son-in-law was asking by implication rather than so stated, was why do so many people worry more about what other people think of them than what they think of themselves?

“Everyone has talent,” he says. “Take me. I came to this country as a young man, didn’t speak the language, and have never been afraid of failure, taking on one challenge after another …”

I added, “Building the successful life that you now enjoy.


“You have followed your talent which was spurred on by your interests, and a lot of people, I’ve come to believe, never experience this joy.”



Hans Christian Andersen’s “Emperor without clothes” being greeted by his subjects.



“Why?” he asked.

“They are chasing rainbows: that is, money, prestige, recognition, and acceptance by others, accolades, belonging, fitting in and so forth. It becomes kind of an insane prison, like an Emperor cavorting on horseback through the streets naked while only a child who has not yet been corrupted with personality rainbows, blurts out the obvious, “The Emperor has no clothes on.”

This little gem you shared with me along with your potpourri of societal dysfunctions points to another issue that comes to mind.

We have confused strategy and tactics with each other, and so collectively, we have generated the world civilization that may doom Homo sapiens survival on this planet.

Strategy is knowing where you are, where you have been, where you would like to go, and how you might best get there.

Tactics relate to the steps taken in pursuit of a strategy.  But, as I’ve attempted to show in my many books, tactics absent a strategy produce the society, indeed, the civilization that we now have and obviously aspire to continue. 

I am currently reading Kia Bird and Martin Sherwin’s AMERICAN PROMETHEUS: The Triumph and Tragedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer (2005).  This is the story of scores of Nobel Laureates of Physics, who have unwittingly created the world we now call our own.  The emotional intelligence of these brilliant men (and women) of science leave much to be desired, fulfilling the outlines of our desires while seemingly unconcerned with the consequences of their discoveries.  Sad.

Be safe,

Jim

PS I’m now typing with both hands if not well.



























































































































































































































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