Avocado's seven pleasures

I prepare our dinner salads virtually 365 evenings a year. I use avocado often and its many pleasures haven't diminished. Its taste isn't even necessarily the chief pleasure.
    The first pleasure, for me, is the heft of the uncut avocado. For its size, it's a bit heavier than the eye assumes. The fruit's flesh is dense, its seed large.
    Second is the delicate but unmistakable yielding of a ripe avocado to some small pressure applied with the fingertips. I like to use all five fingers—just their tips. It's a bit of a disappointment if none of my store of avocados yields and we have to forgo avocado for the evening. Once or twice I've gone ahead in impatience to use an unripe avocado, but its remaining pleasures are diminished, not least the gustatory.
    Third is the toughness of the skin. The avocado pictured (from this evening) was a bit overripe, so that even the lesser pressure of a sharp knife ruffled somewhat the flesh adjacent to the cut. Let's call the pleasure of a sharp knife's quick, clean cut part of the third pleasure.
    Fourth is the visual beauty of the inner flesh, its spectrum of yellow-greens, its moistness, its smooth texture perceived visually.
    I was actually using the second half of the avocado from last night, and I had already removed the half's skin, halved and quartered it, and chunked two eighths before I felt the irresistible urge to get out a camera—the nearest to hand being that of my Droid. I should have futzed over the initial shot, to get the two remaining two eighths closer together and show less cutting board. Or better yet, I should have thought of a photo sooner—when I still had all four eighths. (Have you ever reflected that "should" doesn't work with respect to the past, and very often not with respect to the future either?)
    Fifth is the kinetic pleasure of slicing very thin, lengthwise slices and laying them atop the bed of lettuce, cucumber slices, cauliflower florets...

    Sixth is the visual pleasure of seeing the array of slices. Or chunks. Tonight, as I've already indicated, I chunked eighths. The reasons for this was that my wife had actually already prepared everything else, and did so in a big bowl for tossing. Dropping on the chunks was the last addition before salad dressing.
    Seventh, gustation. I don't believe I've ever used that noun before, but it's perfect. The act of tasting. And half that act for avocado is the tongue's feel of what may well be ultimate smoothness.
    The seven enlivening pleasures?

No salad dressing has yet been poured. Tossing has not begun.
In fact, tossing repositioned most of the chunks beneath the other ingredients.

Them's the breaks

Bryan Cranston stars
as Walter White

Episode 5 in Season 1 of Breaking Bad ("Gray Matter," which aired on February 24, 2008) features a speech by high school chemistry teacher Walter White that could have informed Sam Harris's thinking about free will.
    In the first episode, Walter was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer and resorted to selling crystal methamphetamine to provide for his family when he is dead. But he didn't let his wife (Skyler) know he was sick until the fourth episode.
    Having learned the news, Skyler becomes determined that Walter will undertake chemotherapy, and she doesn't hesitate to let Walter's wealthy former graduate school research partner know or to urge Walter to accept his old colleague's offer to pay for everything.
    But Walter resists.
    In an emotional power play, Skyler engineers an intervention to show Walter how much his family loves him and needs for him to do the therapy. Her sister and brother-in-law don't behave as she expects, they think it should be Walter's decision.

But can it be Walter's decision? That's the question Sam Harris raises.
    Walter responds in as affecting a speech as you can hear in television drama (or in feature film):

Sometimes I feel like I never actually make any of my own choices. My entire life, it just seems I never had a real say about any of it. With this last one—cancer—all I have left is how I choose to approach this...What good is it to just survive, if I am too sick to work...?I choose not to do it.

    [I didn't think I could quote that verbatim, given the difficulty of writing down dialogue from a Netflix download, but then I thought of YouTube, where you can actually see the scene:]



    So, Walter refuses...until, as usually happens with all of us, the balance of forces shifts in favor of the stronger ones' tending toward our compliance. "I'll do the therapy."

Friday I asked what if Judeo-Christian ethics had been all-life affirming (rather than in-group-affirming)?
    A friend commented simply that not enough people think and feel the way I do.
    And probably no one in ancient times thought or felt that way. The forces that produced the Judeo-Christian ethic could have produced no other ethic than the one it did produce. And the forces working now can but have us slaughtering and eating animals, fighting to control oil, tearing down mountains to mine coal, driving just the fuel-inefficient automobiles we do, building pipelines across tracts of wilderness, decimating rain forests, continuing to overpopulate the planet.
    Like Walter, we might individually resist—or become conscious that something in us seems to want to resist—but happenings both within us and around us continue to roll on just the way they individually and collectively always have done and always will do. According to the laws of nature.
_______________
Wiktionary on "Them's the breaks"
[follow-up]

Give me a tweet

I'm trying to decide whether or not to join Twitter, and I could use some testimonials from people who use it or have tried tweeting.
    All I really know so far is what Motomynd told me:

The bright point about twitter is that if someone has nothing important to say you spend less time figuring that out.

    I'm not sure whether that's a full-fledged endorsement or not.
    Of course, I am aware that "tweets" are limited to 140 characters. The Twitter website claims that

You can discover a lot in a little space. You can see photos, videos and conversations directly in Tweets to get the whole story at a glance, and all in one place.

    Well, if the 140 characters can accommodate a photo, that's an extra 1,000 whole words right there.
    I don't know how many words a video is reputed to be worth—but probably not as many as 1,000 times the number of still images comprising it...I suppose, though, that it could actually be worth more than that many words, on the principle that the whole is greater than the sum of the parts?
    Plus, videos can include voice and music....It's actually starting to sound as though a tweet might be like what Elton John said about sad songs.



What do you think about Twitter? Especially if you actually use it or have tried it.
    You may, as usual, record your tweets in a comment below.
    Or your sad songs (especially if you sing them yourself and upload them to YouTube)^*.
    I appreciate it.
_______________
* You can't include images or sounds in a Blogger comment, but you can include a link to them. The code for making a word or phrase a hyperlink is as follows:

<a href="url">word or phrase</a>

What if Judeo-Christian ethics had been all-life affirming?

Photo taken a year ago by holding
a Nikon D60 by hand to the narrow
eyepiece of a Nikon ED-50 fieldscope
[It's not the moon as I thought
when I found the photo, but the
vignetting of the image, which is
the daytime sky behind a dead tree.]

Apparently scholars agree that the Israelites only meant the Sixth Commandment to restrain their members from killing other Israelites. The Old Testament is chock full of incidents of murder, rape, and enslavement of other people, most of the mayhem being portrayed as not only condoned but as explicitly commanded by their deity.
    I don't know what I'd eaten, but the other day I found myself wondering whether, if the Judeo-Christian ethic could have grown up protecting not only one's own group but all mankind—and not only just all mankind, but even all mammalian life on Earth—and not only just all mammalian life on Earth, but even all animal life on our planet—and not only all animal life, but even our living, breathing Earth...what a different world this might be.

We might not put other animals in confined, dark spaces and shoot them full of growth hormones to speed their fattening to slaughter.
    We might not slaughter animals at all, we might not eat them.
    We might not invade countries to control the oil beneath their ground.
    We might not tear down mountains to extricate coal.
    We might not use fuel-inefficient means of transportation.
    We might not waste wildernesses to build pipelines.
    We might not level rain forests to raise beef.
    We might not have overpopulated the planet.
    ...

If we stepped abruptly from the world we know into that might-have-been world, we would not recognize it.
    I stepped abruptly into wondering, and I can hardly think coherently of the things we might not do if the Judeo-Christian ethic hadn't been geared to protecting the in-group but to protecting life collectively, and its mother, Earth.
    I was just wondering.
    Maybe tomorrow I'll come back to reality.
_______________
[follow-up]

Not yet1

I'm old, or anyway old enough.
I fall asleep at eight watching TV
    And feel no loss at going on to bed
    My mind can hardly think or body move
    It's not really that early, it's time to sleep.
Dying can't be that difficult either.

What is this poem, then? Mind could think?
    Fingers could move to find the keys?
    Not quite time to sleep after all?
And what about next time, and the next,
And the final time—maybe then, too,
Enough mind to want to put death off a bit?
_______________

1. Thanks to Ken Marks for suggesting the alternate title, which I prefer.
   
2. Original version:
   

   Easy?
   
   I'm old, or anyway old enough.
   I fall asleep at eight watching TV
       And feel no loss at going on to bed
       My mind can hardly think or body move
       It's not really that early, it's time to sleep.
   Dying can't be that difficult either.
   
   What is this poem, then? Mind can't think?
       Fingers can't move to find the keys?
       It wasn't quite time to sleep this time?
   And what about next time, and the next,
   And the final time—maybe then, too,
   Enough mind to make dying not so easy?

Alert: Eagle on nest at Jordan Lake!

[This is just an image; there is no
link to the webcam here.]

I just clicked on Moristotle's 10th most popular post all-time and was delighted to see that the nest is currently being sat on:

"Eagle webcam at Jordan Lake"
Many thanks to our former next-door neighbor in Chapel Hill for sending me the link to a webcam posted near an eagle 's nest at Lake Jordan...

Enjoy!
_______________
Moristotle's 10 most popular posts of the last 30 days are listed in the sidebar (not far down).

Thanks, everyone!

   
   
   
   
   
 
Hmmm, those graphs look canned, don't they?
    Going directly to "stats," I found the following graph of pageviews over the last 7 days, which seems to plot by the hour. I could find no graph going further back.

The date labeling is odd; "6/23/12" seems to correspond to that day's
first hour, and "6/24/12" to that day's last hour (for example)
[I suspect that "6/24/12" is an error and should read "6/25/12"]

Join me?

[Click to enlarge]

Sometimes I need to just stop and wait for Daylilies.
    You, too, sometimes?

Join Moristotle too, while you're at it, so you can receive automatic notifications of new postings. See place to join a little ways down in the sidebar (to the right). Glad to have you following Moristotle!

Stop procrastinating (now, not later)

Click to see original article^*

I'm sure that no one reading this has a problem with procrastination. You're probably not among the estimated 97 percent of people who put off things they need (or even want) to do but aren't doing.
    Surely, though, you have a friend who could use what I'm about to tell you. And if your friend tries it, they'll love you for telling them. (Year, I know that "they" and "them" have always been only plural, but I've finally stopped procrastinating and joined the forces for language transformation.)
    When you—I mean your friend—decides to stop procrastinating, I recommend a short procedure (less than five minutes) to motivate themself to take action. ("Themself" is my own contribution to the language transformation movement. There'll be no stopping your friend either, once they learn to stop procrastinating.)
    I'll describe the procedure by way of an example. In 1997, before starting to work at UNC General Administration, I worked for a funeral home that specialized in cremation. I called people to try to set up an appointment for one of my colleagues to visit them to talk about prefunding their cremation arrangements. Once, after a particularly unproductive day (not many people seemed to be home), I left the office early and took my leads home to call that evening. But when I arrived home, I was tired and after dinner I felt more like doing any number of things than calling people to talk about their cremation. I started to procrastinate—and I knew it.
    It is essential that your friend know they're procrastinating—they must catch themself doing it in order to correct it.

Here's what I did, and it illustrates what your friend can do whenever they catch themself procrastinating:
    I asked myself, "Is it important to make the calls?" If not, then obviously I might as well find something else to procrastinate about. But I knew that it was important to make the calls, and continuing to procrastinate was not a good choice. However, it looked as though I would continue if I didn't take the next step.

    There's always a logic to procrastination, reasons why you—I mean your friend—is putting something off. They're either getting some reward from not doing it, or avoiding a penalty they'd incur if they did do it, or both.
    I analyzed why I wasn't making the calls. The reward I was getting out of not making the calls was a chance to rest or do something recreational, something more fun than calling prospects to discuss prepaying to have their bodies incinerated after they died.
    The penalty I was avoiding was the feeling of being a hypocrite if I did make the calls, because I myself hated to receive telemarketing calls in the evening, and there I was contemplating making telemarketing calls in the evening.
    Both the reward and the penalty got me to not make the calls. The trick would have to be to apply a stronger reward and a stronger penalty to get me to make the calls.

I identified several rewards if I did make the calls: I would get a clear desk. (I had been procrastinating about clearing off the papers piled on it.) If I made the calls, I would probably reach a few people who weren't home during the day, and if I reached them, I might make an appointment or two (for which I would receive a commission).
    On the other hand, if I didn't make the calls, the penalties would be that I probably wouldn't reach any of these people all week, and I would have no chance to set up an appointment with them. I wouldn't make any commissions on them, and more important, I would have to answer to my disappointed colleagues.
    I now had stronger rewards for calling, and stronger penalties for not calling. I made the calls.

I felt quite pleased with myself. I received a burst of energy and was no longer tired. My desk became clear. And I even set a couple of appointments. How stupid it had been to procrastinate!
    And your friend can stop procrastinating too. Here's what to tell them:

1. Catch yourself procrastinating.
2. Decide whether it's important for them to stop procrastinating. If so,
3. Identify the rewards and the penalties that are keeping them from acting.
4. Find stronger rewards and penalties to get them to act. These will motivate your friend to
5. Do what they have been putting off.

* Afterword. I'd been procrastinating for years to mine the trove of my past writings for use on Moristotle.
    So I'm extremely grateful to have found the article shown in the photograph, which I wrote for The Chapel Hill Herald in 1997.
    See, the method still works!

Shakespeare a vegetarian?

From the striking opening with its, I guess, Ninji-style attack on Duke Senior's court, set in 19th century Japan, to the witty epilogue delivered by Bryce Dallas Howard on her way back to her trailer from the set, Kenneth Branagh's production of Shakespeare's As You Like It is quite as you might like it.
    It was how my wife and I liked it, and how New York Times movie critic Virginia Heffernan liked it five years ago. She concluded her August 21, 2007 review ("Enough Already, Rosalind, Let the Kools Talk") with the statement: "This is As You Like It as we like it." Let her speak for all of us.

As You Like It (2006: Kenneth Branagh) [Rosalind (Bryce Dallas Howard), the daughter of Duke Senior (Brian Blessed, the banished duke), is raised at the court of Duke Frederick (Brian Blessed, who is younger brother to Duke Senior and took over his dukedom), with her cousin Celia (Romola Garai, daughter to Duke Frederick). She falls in love with a young man named Orlando (David Oyelowo), but before she can even think twice about it, she is banished by Duke Frederick, who threatens death if she comes near the court again. Celia, being Rosalind's best friend, goes with Rosalind (who is disguised as a boy, Ganymede) and Touchstone (Alfred Molina), the court's fool, to the forest of Arden. Upon their arrival in the forest, they happen upon Orlando and his manservant, who are fleeing the wrath of Orlando's eldest brother (Adrian Lester). What follows is an elaborate scheme devised by the cross-dressing Rosalind to find out the verity of Orlando's supposed passion for her, and to further capture his heart, through the witty and mischievous façade of Ganymede.] [E] 6-22-2012

    We were delighted to see Bryce Dallas Howard (daughter of American director Ron Howard) in the role of Rosalind. She played Hilly Holbrook in The Help, of which I have made much metaphorical use in telling the story of my retirement from the University of North Carolina General Administration (see Features page "To the three white ladies, I was a colored maid").

Preferring as I do, for ethical reasons, not to eat animal flesh, I was touched by the way Kenneth Branagh handled Act II, Scene I of Shakespeare's play. The scene features the character Jacques (Kevin Kline's) aversion to killing (for eating?) the animals in the Forest of Arden. In Shakespeare (as you can see at the bottom of this post, where I've included the text of the scene in its entirety), Jacques is not present, and his words and actions are reported to Duke Senior by others.
    But in Branagh's movie, when Duke Senior says, "Come, shall we go and kill us venison?," Jacques is present and Brian Blessed beautifully plays some embarrassment at speaking in Jacques's presence. And Kevin Kline delicately acts sadness at the thought.
    I don't remember having noticed before Shakespeare's sensitive portrayal here of an aversion to eating animals. Could Shakespeare have been a vegetarian?
    According to the Natural Healing Center, he was, but it would be in their interest to say so, true or not.
    YourDailyShakespeare.com quotes Act I, Scene 3 of Twelfth Night:

...but I am a great eater of beef, and I believe that does harm my wit.

    Wiki.answers.com doubts it:

It was uncommon then to be a vegetarian. Most of the food that he will have eaten would be meat, so no, I don't think William Shakespeare was a vegetarian.

    I've emailed my college classmate Stephen Greenblatt at Harvard and asked him whether his Shakespeare studies have led him to any conclusion whether Shakespeare was a vegetarian.
_______________
Note: As You Like It is currently being performed in New York; see "Central Park, a Forest of Ardor" in the June 21 New York Times.

From the complete text of Shakespeare's As You Like It

ACT II
SCENE I
The Forest of Arden.

Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, and two or three Lords, like forester

DUKE SENIOR
Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile,
Hath not old custom made this life more sweet
Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods
More free from peril than the envious court?
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,
The seasons' difference, as the icy fang
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind,
Which, when it bites and blows upon my body,
Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say
'This is no flattery: these are counsellors
That feelingly persuade me what I am.'
Sweet are the uses of adversity,
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;
And this our life exempt from public haunt
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones and good in every thing.
I would not change it.

AMIENS
Happy is your grace,
That can translate the stubbornness of fortune
Into so quiet and so sweet a style.

DUKE SENIOR
Come, shall we go and kill us venison?
And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools,
Being native burghers of this desert city,
Should in their own confines with forked heads
Have their round haunches gored.

First Lord
Indeed, my lord,
The melancholy Jaques grieves at that,
And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp
Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you.
To-day my Lord of Amiens and myself
Did steal behind him as he lay along
Under an oak whose antique root peeps out
Upon the brook that brawls along this wood:
To the which place a poor sequester'd stag,
That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt,
Did come to languish, and indeed, my lord,
The wretched animal heaved forth such groans
That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat
Almost to bursting, and the big round tears
Coursed one another down his innocent nose
In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,
Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook,
Augmenting it with tears.

DUKE SENIOR
But what said Jaques?
Did he not moralize this spectacle?

First Lord
O, yes, into a thousand similes.
First, for his weeping into the needless stream;
'Poor deer,' quoth he, 'thou makest a testament
As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more
To that which had too much:' then, being there alone,
Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends,
''Tis right:' quoth he; 'thus misery doth part
The flux of company:' anon a careless herd,
Full of the pasture, jumps along by him
And never stays to greet him; 'Ay' quoth Jaques,
'Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens;
'Tis just the fashion: wherefore do you look
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?'
Thus most invectively he pierceth through
The body of the country, city, court,
Yea, and of this our life, swearing that we
Are mere usurpers, tyrants and what's worse,
To fright the animals and to kill them up
In their assign'd and native dwelling-place.

DUKE SENIOR
And did you leave him in this contemplation?

Second Lord
We did, my lord, weeping and commenting
Upon the sobbing deer.

No confusion

Do you remember when you first heard of Google?
    I do. I had only been working at UNC General Administration for a few months, so it was probably early in 1998. The staff there mostly used Macintoshes in those days, which might have been why I required some IT assistance (thirty years at IBM hadn't prepared me to use a Mac).
    The IT guy came and helped me and was about to leave when he thought to show me something. "Go here," he said, and pointed. He seemed excited, and I wondered why.
    "Enter 'google.'"
    That was my first act of googling.
    I intentionally don't capitalize the verb, to emphasize that Google has as solidly established its common-wordhood as Kleenex and Xerox ever did.
    It's google this and google that, and Google all galore.

Anyway, that glad remembrance is one of the reasons for my delight yesterday to receive a Facebook friend request from the very IT guy, with whom I had had no contact since he himself left General Administration—oh, twelve years ago?
    Naturally he asked, "Are you still at GA? Tell me what you've been up to."
    And I said:

The particulars of my retirement might be the first thing to tell you about. If you don't mind, I'll refer you to a feature page on my blog: "To the three white ladies, I was a colored maid." Can we go from there?

    And he said (obviously having read the page):

It sounds like your boss and the HR person had colluded in finding a lever to oust you. Your blog did not say how long you had been operating at a 7.5 + .5 hour day [about three years], but I suspect they needed a way to get you out that was consistent with their view of a bad-case scenario: you fought their decision. It also sounded like your boss had not talked with you prior to the meeting with HR about her concerns. [emphasis mine] Bringing in the HR person so early in this dialog suggests they feared what you could do.^*

    I hadn't thought much about the fact that my boss of exactly two weeks had never mentioned to me personally the 0.5 hours I worked at home each day because of my three-year commuting arrangement. In fact, my friend's comment prompted me to remember that I had replied to her email notifying me of the meeting along the lines of "And what time do you and I meet to talk before [the HR person] joins us?"
    To which I received no reply. I realize now that it wouldn't be open for discussion, I was going to be hit with a fait accompli.

I told my friend, "I think that, if there had remained any doubt, the point you make cements the conclusion that there had indeed been collusion. Hmm, conclusion and collusion are too good not to use in a limerick...."
     I wrote it this morning:

All the facts of the case seem to argue for collusion:
The white ladies met to conspire my preclusion.
    We'll hit him with an ultimatum—
    And we'll mouth our words verbatim—
"Either drive to work, or be retirement your conclusion."

* As for what they might have feared I could do, I have no idea what that might have been.
    All I have done is tell what happened.

Good Friday in mind

[Click to enlarge]

I knew it was there, the editor had told me Wednesday it would appear today. I didn't even look at it before leaving the paper on the dining table for my wife.
    In fact, an hour before I read it, I saw on my Droid that I had an email from the editor, subject line "Possible Opinion Column?"
    Gosh, it's a good Friday, I thought—or, more accurately, felt.
    Let me savor this.
    While the water was heating for coffee and I sliced the fruit (strawberries and kiwi fruit this morning, with some of the best-tasting blueberries either of us could remember) I thought about a remark I'd made the day before about my blog's being "near the center of my universe." Curious concept that. I'm not sure what "my universe" means. If I have one, then doesn't everybody? And how could all those "universes" co-exist?

Corporate personhood

Someone on Facebook objected Tuesday to my assertion there (in connection with Friday's post, "Calling all voters") that "donating money for election campaigns is unnecessary; most American voters can read and have the ability to obtain reliable information about the candidates and the issues. They don't need to watch or read political advertisements."
    I was later grateful that, in objecting, Mr. Tom Lowe directed my attention to the Frank Rich article in the June 16 issue of New York Magazine ("Nuke 'Em: Why negative advertisements are powerful, essential, and sometimes (see “Daisy”) even artistic"), for I based yesterday's post about political attack ads on it.
    But the first part of Tom's comment was:

Problem with that stance is—according to the recent studies I've seen—most people get their information from TV these days. So acting on this reasonable principle means ceding the advantage to Fox News and the Koch brothers.

    To which I at the time flippantly replied:

Technically, [the post's] second suggestion ("Ignore the campaigns, don't watch advertising") covers this, seeing as how Fox News is essentially political advertising.

    Then yesterday I saw Jeremy W. Peters's article, "Enemies and Allies for ‘Friends’, in The New York Times, critical for the usual reasons of Fox News and, in particular, of its show "Fox & Friends":

"You can huff and puff about how outrageous [Fox News] is," Mr. Weiner [the former New York congressman who was one of the few members of his party regularly to accept Fox News invitations] said. "But they have millions and millions of people watching them. And you have to proceed under the assumption that at least some of those people are persuadable."
    Despite all the outrageousness there is a keen self-awareness inside the network about "Fox & Friends." "We reflect who the audience is," said Mr. Shine, offering a recent example. "We didn’t spend a lot of time discussing who won the Tony Awards."
    He added, "Our audience knows us, and we know them."

Incestuous clan that, Fox News and its audience.

I took advantage of Mr. Peters's publishing immediately on the heels of my remark about Fox News's being "political advertising" to bolster my flippant reply by posting a link to his article on Facebook, commenting that,

As I said to Tom Lowe recently in a comment on Facebook, Fox News is essentially political advertising, watched by folks who don't (and apparently can't) think for themselves and want (and possibly need) to be told what to believe (so long as it suits their existing prejudices).

    Flippant indeed. Why single out Fox News?
    Joe Story, a political observer in Kansas City, Missouri, pointed out that

The same could be said about MSNBC. Fox News is not the only channel in the political advertising, brain washing business. I don't watch either show.

    And the reliably well-informed Mr. Lowe, who is a close student of history and an astute social commentator out in Berkeley, California (the city of my birth), made a more general point, one particularly pointed in the context of attack ads designed to nuke Mitt Romney:

Just as ABC was known in the Reagan era as the "Administration Broadcasting Company," CBS provided press credentials to CIA operatives in the 1950s and 60s, and NBC ran pro nuclear energy stories on their news shows when owned by General Electric. No clean hands to be found anywhere when corporate interests are involved. [emphasis mine]

Whose context?
    Right.
    His who said: "Corporations are people."

Mission not impossible

Images from
LBJ's "Daisy"
ad attacking
Goldwater

Your assignment: Describe an attack ad that the Democrats could use to "nuke" the Republicans in the coming political election.

In his current column in New York Magazine, "Nuke 'Em: Why negative advertisements are powerful, essential, and sometimes (see “Daisy”) even artistic," June 16, Frank Rich describes Chrysler's halftime ad for Super Bowl 2012 as arguably "the best political ad of 2012 so far."

...Narrated by Clint Eastwood, [it] was so arresting, and, intentionally or not, so supportive of the auto-industry bailout, that [Karl] Rove hailed it as an "extremely well-done ad" even as he said he was "offended" by its seeming Obama partisanship.

    Rich fails to point out that Eastwood's final line could be the anthem for Obama's re-election campaign: "Yeah, it's halftime, America, and our second half is about to begin."
    President Obama's first half taught him one of the lessons that America had been depending on him to learn: Trying to work with ideologically rigid Republicans in a bipartisan spirit doesn't work. In his second half, which begins with winning re-election, the President must hit the Republicans hard and drive them back to their own goal line.
    I predict that he will take effective steps to do just that, and the momentum he establishes by winning re-election will result in his achieving some more of the things in his second term that we'd hoped to see in his first.

Moristotle readers can help. You may already have thought of an idea that could be developed into a highly effective attack ad.
    If not, I suggest that you go read "Nuke 'Em." Rich provides links to about ten political ads that you can watch for stimulation, including the "Daisy" ad referred to in his column's subtitle, which the Johnson administration used devastatingly against Senator Barry Goldwater, who lost to Johnson in a landslide.

The Johnson team had a number of promising lines of attack to work with in going after Goldwater: his opposition to civil-rights legislation, his desire to make Social Security "voluntary," his fellow-traveling with John Birchers and other loons of the far right. But the campaign settled on Goldwater’s sloppy bluster about nuclear weapons because the prospect of an atomic Armageddon transcended ideological or policy differences and cut to the emotional quick of the electorate's existential fears.
    The content dictated the bold form. Goldwater’s propensity for flip rhetorical bellicosity was so well known that any replay of his actual words in the ad would be a gratuitous distraction and could be dispensed with. Better still, from the Democrats' point of view, it was Goldwater's own vanquished GOP rivals for the nomination—Nelson Rockefeller and William Scranton—who had led the way in publicizing his loose talk and portraying him as a risky warmonger. (The then-governor of Michigan, George Romney, was another helpful Goldwater basher.) The Republicans had done such a good job of advance hatchet work that voters taking in David and Bathsheba [the movie on TV during which the ad was aired] could let their own imaginations run wild while filling in the ad's blanks. As any student of horror movies knows, what isn't seen or stated is far scarier than any literal enactment onscreen. It's hard for a Hitchcock fan to look at "Daisy" and not see it as a cinematic stepchild of Psycho (1960), in which the brutal shower scene is all the more terrifying because the audience never actually sees the knife violate Janet Leigh's body.

Study Rich's paragraph that describes Mitt Romney’s résumé as "a preposterously target-rich environment for attack ads."

...his lackluster record as Massachusetts governor...his career at Bain...Potentially abortion [would] be criminalized [if Romney were elected]. Women [would] be denied contraceptive services. He’s far right on immigration. He supports efforts to amend the Constitution to ban gay marriage.
    ...There’s also the flip-flopping Mr. Etch A Sketch...countless tone-deaf attempts to feel the pain of the 99 percent...his effort to deny that his Massachusetts health-care law was the precursor of Obama’s Affordable Care Act...his truculence in foreign policy...[his] "Let Detroit Go Bankrupt"...the money stashed in the Cayman Islands and Switzerland...his endorsement of the Paul Ryan budget, which would mutilate the social safety net, including benefits for seniors...his endorsement of Arizona immigration policy as a national "model"...his call for illegal immigrants to submit to "self-deportation"...the radical party he is attempting to mask with a moderate image....

When you've finished shaping your best idea for an attack ad against Romney and the Republicans, submit it to Moristotle for publication. Moristotle's readers will vote to determine the best attack ad idea submitted, and Moristotle will send the winning idea on to the Obama re-election campaign for consideration.
    Multiple submissions are allowed. If you submit two or more winning ideas, you might have a future in political attack advertising!

Not vote? You can't if you care

Say the November election is very close in your state. One million citizens vote for Mitt Romney, and 999,999 vote for Barack Obama.
    But you and your friend, disappointed and angry that President Obama's first term didn't live up to your hopes and expectations, don't vote. You stay home, you get drunk, whatever.

Are you sure you didn't vote? Romney got one more vote than Obama. You and your friend gave him that margin.
    If you care about the outcome of an election, you can't, logically, not vote.
    Caring includes taking care of your vote.
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[Follow-up]