There are numerous instances in American history where a president, faced with a hostile Supreme Court and an inconvenient ruling said "Fuck you. I'm the po-lice. Enforce that." Not only did the country survive, in some instances it was made a better place by it.
On a more practical note, it would be completely reasonable to say "Ok, the Voting Rights Act as a whole is a matter of national security, interstate commerce and federal election law. Congress must treat this as an injunction to change the basis by which "a history of prejudicial voting laws" is defined, but until it does, I am obliged by national security interests to maintain the existing map."
Everyone gets what they claim to want.
Racist shits trying to undo fifty years on a technicality, through a stacked Supreme Court, still get to go fuck themselves.
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
A Small Comment on Bay Area Fashion
The problem with having two teams in the East Bay that wear 'gold' is that it translates itself into casual and even formal fashion, and, sadly, yellow is just a hideous color for clothing.
Friday, June 14, 2013
The Saddest Part
So I was having a conversation with my mother and siblings the other day. My sister has just gotten comfortable in the first relationship she's ever been in that seems at least as likely as not to end in marriage, and my mother asked her, as people in relationships are prone to doing of other people who are not actually dating anymore, about what dating was like in the Bay Area.
I wasn't really listening to what she said about what women think of men in general, which, come to think of it, is really the more important testimonial, given that she's a woman, but she said something about men thinking of women as generally too shy, to which I interjected that I probably don't represent what most men think of women around here, but that if shy is the word that would occur to the average guy, I think it would be somewhat inaccurate and I reminded them both of what Ana told us about meeting her new boyfriend.
I had been there for the occasion, and it could not have been more obvious when Jerreau (sp?), a friend of our cousin Sarah who met us for burritos one day, asked her if she wanted to go for a bike ride some time, that he was asking her out romantically. For whatever reason, however, Ana was slow on the uptake. A week later she asked my dad if the meeting had likely been a date, and, of course, with no more information than you the reader have, he assured her that it had been.
A month later, when she was clearly in the relationship, she said, in retelling the story over dinner for those who hadn't seen her in a while, that, because she hadn't been sure it was a date or not, she'd probably been far nicer to him that she would have been if she'd known.
Now, she said this in all seriousness, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
On another block or a different walk from the dating conversation with Mom and Ana, we were back on the subject, this time with my brother in my sister's place and Ana walking ahead with my Dad.
I think I reopened the issue with a comment I've had on tap for a while now and felt, even at the time I spoke it, like it might have been only half relevant, that "If women understood, on a deep and collective level, that men are exactly what they are expected to be in order to get laid, and if rarely more, certainly never less, a lot of women I know would be treated better by their men, or rather, they'd be treated better by better men."
My mother latched on to the comment, saying that if all that men are interested in at first encounter with a woman is sex, a woman is justified in being a little defensive.
And here is the saddest thing.
The saddest thing about our now-mainstream 'feminist' upbringing is that treating men as if they were soulless, cynical, insatiable, unrepentant 'playas,' on permanent fuck patrol doesn't simply give them an open invitation to be, it demands that they conform to this absolutely pathetic, bullshit notion (and it gives them as false and even more destructive an image of the male as the more famous media image of the female).
Two facts to keep in mind. A.) The male reproductive system reverts, after a certain period of inactivity, usually about the six month range, to a state of hyper-sensitivity that some refer to as "born-again-virginity" due to the increased likelihood of premature ejaculation in these circumstances. This means that, if a man does not get laid regularly, at least twice a year, his chances of satisfying a partner and therefore of retaining a partner, and therefore of getting laid in the first place in the second six months after a failed first six, are drastically reduced. Human males are not just rewarded by evolution if they get laid, they're punished by evolution if they do not have physical sex regularly, masturbation only extends the six-month period marginally.
B.) The human brain, even the MALE one, is perfectly capable of holding two thoughts in it at once.
(and a third, a BTW one, that easily more than three quarters of guys want nothing more in life than a rewarding, monogamous relationship, children and a white picket fence. YES. If this is really news to you, I'm very, very sorry)
Hell, its capable of holding three thoughts, four motivations and seven different, conflicting emotions at once, I think it's capable of saying to itself, without breaking stride, "Wow, I wanna fuck that woman and see if she's intelligent enough to carry my babies."
This phrase "all that guys are interested in is sex" was composed by a pathetic loser, not a feminist. A proper, anthropologically and sociologically supported statement, as true feminism has always been rooted in science, not the emotionality (which solid science shows women are more likely to base decisions on than men, go fuck yourselves) of a lonely, resentful spinster, would be "guys are always interested in sex."
This is why my father and I both knew, without second thought, that "a bike ride in the Sunset district" was of course, always a date, no matter how delicately or skillfully her boyfriend danced around the idea to keep her disarmed. But its also why I like Jerreau, or rather, why I don't dislike him enough to have given him a chance to make me like him, which he did. Because I accept that he wants to fuck my sister, but he was also willing to do that bullshit dance just to go out with her, who is so hook, line and sinker a third-wave feminist, no matter how hard I've tried to push her past third-wave mentalities. Now whether that's a testament to how amazing he thought my sister was, or if it's just the basic learned behavior of a long-term, single-male resident of the region I don't really care, you adapt to your surroundings, even if your surrounding are stupid. The point is that he was willing to do it, completely, no reservations, for her, and that as far as I can tell he dances with one woman if he's made a promise.
The ladies of the San Francisco Bay Area will have to forgive me if I don't feel much like learning this dance. I've certainly not met one yet who was worth my becoming a lying asshole just to prove that I'm not a lying asshole.
I also have this thing for Cheap Trick.
I mean to say I want women who are willing to own it that they want me, I'm REALLY fucking turned off by third-class treatment just because I'm not willing to LIE that I'm not trying to fuck you. Even bigger a turn-off? The idea that any relationship I would have with you WOULD HAVE STARTED WITH A FUCKING LIE!!! Are you fucking kidding me? HOW is this desirable!?! "Prove to me that you're honestly interested in a relationship with me by lying to me convincingly about what you are and are not interested in." No. I'm sorry. I know I've already left a few women up here butt-hurt because I wouldn't just PLAY them, but game is for fucking CHILDREN, and I'm genuinely not fucking interested, I will not fucking hesitate to pass up a sure thing to fuck you if it means I'd have to play you, even slightly, to do it. I JUST DON'T WANT A LIAR FOR A LOVER, sorry.
I wasn't really listening to what she said about what women think of men in general, which, come to think of it, is really the more important testimonial, given that she's a woman, but she said something about men thinking of women as generally too shy, to which I interjected that I probably don't represent what most men think of women around here, but that if shy is the word that would occur to the average guy, I think it would be somewhat inaccurate and I reminded them both of what Ana told us about meeting her new boyfriend.
I had been there for the occasion, and it could not have been more obvious when Jerreau (sp?), a friend of our cousin Sarah who met us for burritos one day, asked her if she wanted to go for a bike ride some time, that he was asking her out romantically. For whatever reason, however, Ana was slow on the uptake. A week later she asked my dad if the meeting had likely been a date, and, of course, with no more information than you the reader have, he assured her that it had been.
A month later, when she was clearly in the relationship, she said, in retelling the story over dinner for those who hadn't seen her in a while, that, because she hadn't been sure it was a date or not, she'd probably been far nicer to him that she would have been if she'd known.
Now, she said this in all seriousness, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
On another block or a different walk from the dating conversation with Mom and Ana, we were back on the subject, this time with my brother in my sister's place and Ana walking ahead with my Dad.
I think I reopened the issue with a comment I've had on tap for a while now and felt, even at the time I spoke it, like it might have been only half relevant, that "If women understood, on a deep and collective level, that men are exactly what they are expected to be in order to get laid, and if rarely more, certainly never less, a lot of women I know would be treated better by their men, or rather, they'd be treated better by better men."
My mother latched on to the comment, saying that if all that men are interested in at first encounter with a woman is sex, a woman is justified in being a little defensive.
And here is the saddest thing.
The saddest thing about our now-mainstream 'feminist' upbringing is that treating men as if they were soulless, cynical, insatiable, unrepentant 'playas,' on permanent fuck patrol doesn't simply give them an open invitation to be, it demands that they conform to this absolutely pathetic, bullshit notion (and it gives them as false and even more destructive an image of the male as the more famous media image of the female).
Two facts to keep in mind. A.) The male reproductive system reverts, after a certain period of inactivity, usually about the six month range, to a state of hyper-sensitivity that some refer to as "born-again-virginity" due to the increased likelihood of premature ejaculation in these circumstances. This means that, if a man does not get laid regularly, at least twice a year, his chances of satisfying a partner and therefore of retaining a partner, and therefore of getting laid in the first place in the second six months after a failed first six, are drastically reduced. Human males are not just rewarded by evolution if they get laid, they're punished by evolution if they do not have physical sex regularly, masturbation only extends the six-month period marginally.
B.) The human brain, even the MALE one, is perfectly capable of holding two thoughts in it at once.
(and a third, a BTW one, that easily more than three quarters of guys want nothing more in life than a rewarding, monogamous relationship, children and a white picket fence. YES. If this is really news to you, I'm very, very sorry)
Hell, its capable of holding three thoughts, four motivations and seven different, conflicting emotions at once, I think it's capable of saying to itself, without breaking stride, "Wow, I wanna fuck that woman and see if she's intelligent enough to carry my babies."
This phrase "all that guys are interested in is sex" was composed by a pathetic loser, not a feminist. A proper, anthropologically and sociologically supported statement, as true feminism has always been rooted in science, not the emotionality (which solid science shows women are more likely to base decisions on than men, go fuck yourselves) of a lonely, resentful spinster, would be "guys are always interested in sex."
This is why my father and I both knew, without second thought, that "a bike ride in the Sunset district" was of course, always a date, no matter how delicately or skillfully her boyfriend danced around the idea to keep her disarmed. But its also why I like Jerreau, or rather, why I don't dislike him enough to have given him a chance to make me like him, which he did. Because I accept that he wants to fuck my sister, but he was also willing to do that bullshit dance just to go out with her, who is so hook, line and sinker a third-wave feminist, no matter how hard I've tried to push her past third-wave mentalities. Now whether that's a testament to how amazing he thought my sister was, or if it's just the basic learned behavior of a long-term, single-male resident of the region I don't really care, you adapt to your surroundings, even if your surrounding are stupid. The point is that he was willing to do it, completely, no reservations, for her, and that as far as I can tell he dances with one woman if he's made a promise.
The ladies of the San Francisco Bay Area will have to forgive me if I don't feel much like learning this dance. I've certainly not met one yet who was worth my becoming a lying asshole just to prove that I'm not a lying asshole.
I also have this thing for Cheap Trick.
I mean to say I want women who are willing to own it that they want me, I'm REALLY fucking turned off by third-class treatment just because I'm not willing to LIE that I'm not trying to fuck you. Even bigger a turn-off? The idea that any relationship I would have with you WOULD HAVE STARTED WITH A FUCKING LIE!!! Are you fucking kidding me? HOW is this desirable!?! "Prove to me that you're honestly interested in a relationship with me by lying to me convincingly about what you are and are not interested in." No. I'm sorry. I know I've already left a few women up here butt-hurt because I wouldn't just PLAY them, but game is for fucking CHILDREN, and I'm genuinely not fucking interested, I will not fucking hesitate to pass up a sure thing to fuck you if it means I'd have to play you, even slightly, to do it. I JUST DON'T WANT A LIAR FOR A LOVER, sorry.
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
A Recent Personal Realization
I probably shouldn't post this, as it will be a bit revelatory and I'm still looking for a job.
But I'm not exactly the type to let that stop me from exploring myself, now am I? I suppose I'll just have to be sure to keep posting regularly for a while, and hope to bury this little 'vulnerability' episode deep enough in the archived posts that no prospective employer takes the time to get to it.
Of course, I'll need to change the title...
Eh.
So I've realized recently that I've always been a lot like that kid in The Emperor's New Clothes, or at least I've always relished that role whenever it came my way.
That's not much of a realization, in and of itself, obviously--"hey, I look like my mom!"--no, the thing I thought was worth writing about on it is the further realization that, while that kid is brilliant, and honest, and sees keenly, and just has that thing, that indescribable way of doing things that doesn't even reflect in an IQ test, and all of that, that kid is also just a little fucking annoying.
Not least to the Emperor, who, let's not forget, is something of a non-conformist, (fashion-, at least) forward-thinking radical himself.
And here's the thing, often as not, its that kid that gets run out of town, not the emperor, or at the very least, the kid has to go too, because he reminds the people of their embarrassment, whether he talks about it or not.
Socrates (another reflection-of-self I've seen lately) dies, in the end, let's not forget. Sure, he's remembered forever, and his lesson about pure democracy led to the (slightly) more robust Latin republic, etc., etc., etc. But Socrates is fucking DEAD, man, he's seeing none of it.
So the little boy has to grow up, he's got to learn to pick his poisons (had to), learn to ask questions instead of just knowing the answer, but most of all, I think, he's got to be more vulnerable, oddly. This is because when your biggest risk is the crowd, its best to give its members a little blood in advance, one at a time, to satisfy them you can be wrong about something smaller than the epic things your dreamy, sea-monster brain (rising out of nowhere, lashing out inexplicably here or there, overpowering all local forces before dissipating into an harmless-looking, invertebrate blob, floating on the horizon) is usually concerned with.
In other words, when you seem untouchable, people inevitably start to think about how to take you down.
Wait. I'm not going to delete the previous five lines, because there's something in there, too, but I've had another thought.
That kid, in some ways, is the real tyrant. The people, don't forget, are happy. They like their emperor, even if they can see his balls flopping about under those invisible clothes he wears. Hell, they may even have started having mainstream fashion conversations about scrotal piercings and other cosmetic opportunities now available under the new clothes.
Yes, he represents a tyranny of the mind, of the real, that the people don't want to hear. That they might need to hear it, before they all spend their money on fabric no one will buy in any other town, doesn't change the fact that they are unwilling thinkers.
So maybe blood sacrifice isn't the answer, huh? How does the metaphor translate if the solution is bloodsport?
How do you make it fun to face the illusions you've built up in your mind because they seemed easier than dealing with the truth (which I suppose, metaphorically, must have been a shortage of fabric)?
I suppose this is easy, right? Methods that have been tested time and again, to the point that even ethical distinctions are well understood.
Start by isolating one of the crowd. Quickly and effectively otherize them. Mock them about what the entire crowd is doing stupidly. Never acknowledge that the rest of the crowd is doing the same thing.
"Hey, look everybody! The village idiot thinks the Emperor's really wearing invisible clothes! He doesn't understand that he's just naked, pretending to wear clothes! What an idiot, right?!?"
For ethical application, attempt to choose someone with the moral strength to laugh at themselves, otherize them with something endearing rather than embarrassing, and perhaps include self in the otherization, to the continuing exclusion of the crowd. If ethical application seems impossible, at least try to choose someone who deserves it.
"Oh my god, everybody, I need your help! You know senile old granny, she's 'round the bend again, thinks that the Emperor's really wearing invisible clothes! Help me explain to her. Oh granny, you're so silly, I almost thought you were right for a second, I could have sworn I saw the light shimmer off it as he danced, but then I realized they all been having a joke on us, he's just naked and they're pretending he's wearing beautiful clothes. Granny, granny, granny, they almost had us, didn't they?"
But I'm not exactly the type to let that stop me from exploring myself, now am I? I suppose I'll just have to be sure to keep posting regularly for a while, and hope to bury this little 'vulnerability' episode deep enough in the archived posts that no prospective employer takes the time to get to it.
Of course, I'll need to change the title...
Eh.
So I've realized recently that I've always been a lot like that kid in The Emperor's New Clothes, or at least I've always relished that role whenever it came my way.
That's not much of a realization, in and of itself, obviously--"hey, I look like my mom!"--no, the thing I thought was worth writing about on it is the further realization that, while that kid is brilliant, and honest, and sees keenly, and just has that thing, that indescribable way of doing things that doesn't even reflect in an IQ test, and all of that, that kid is also just a little fucking annoying.
Not least to the Emperor, who, let's not forget, is something of a non-conformist, (fashion-, at least) forward-thinking radical himself.
And here's the thing, often as not, its that kid that gets run out of town, not the emperor, or at the very least, the kid has to go too, because he reminds the people of their embarrassment, whether he talks about it or not.
Socrates (another reflection-of-self I've seen lately) dies, in the end, let's not forget. Sure, he's remembered forever, and his lesson about pure democracy led to the (slightly) more robust Latin republic, etc., etc., etc. But Socrates is fucking DEAD, man, he's seeing none of it.
So the little boy has to grow up, he's got to learn to pick his poisons (had to), learn to ask questions instead of just knowing the answer, but most of all, I think, he's got to be more vulnerable, oddly. This is because when your biggest risk is the crowd, its best to give its members a little blood in advance, one at a time, to satisfy them you can be wrong about something smaller than the epic things your dreamy, sea-monster brain (rising out of nowhere, lashing out inexplicably here or there, overpowering all local forces before dissipating into an harmless-looking, invertebrate blob, floating on the horizon) is usually concerned with.
In other words, when you seem untouchable, people inevitably start to think about how to take you down.
Wait. I'm not going to delete the previous five lines, because there's something in there, too, but I've had another thought.
That kid, in some ways, is the real tyrant. The people, don't forget, are happy. They like their emperor, even if they can see his balls flopping about under those invisible clothes he wears. Hell, they may even have started having mainstream fashion conversations about scrotal piercings and other cosmetic opportunities now available under the new clothes.
Yes, he represents a tyranny of the mind, of the real, that the people don't want to hear. That they might need to hear it, before they all spend their money on fabric no one will buy in any other town, doesn't change the fact that they are unwilling thinkers.
So maybe blood sacrifice isn't the answer, huh? How does the metaphor translate if the solution is bloodsport?
How do you make it fun to face the illusions you've built up in your mind because they seemed easier than dealing with the truth (which I suppose, metaphorically, must have been a shortage of fabric)?
I suppose this is easy, right? Methods that have been tested time and again, to the point that even ethical distinctions are well understood.
Start by isolating one of the crowd. Quickly and effectively otherize them. Mock them about what the entire crowd is doing stupidly. Never acknowledge that the rest of the crowd is doing the same thing.
"Hey, look everybody! The village idiot thinks the Emperor's really wearing invisible clothes! He doesn't understand that he's just naked, pretending to wear clothes! What an idiot, right?!?"
For ethical application, attempt to choose someone with the moral strength to laugh at themselves, otherize them with something endearing rather than embarrassing, and perhaps include self in the otherization, to the continuing exclusion of the crowd. If ethical application seems impossible, at least try to choose someone who deserves it.
"Oh my god, everybody, I need your help! You know senile old granny, she's 'round the bend again, thinks that the Emperor's really wearing invisible clothes! Help me explain to her. Oh granny, you're so silly, I almost thought you were right for a second, I could have sworn I saw the light shimmer off it as he danced, but then I realized they all been having a joke on us, he's just naked and they're pretending he's wearing beautiful clothes. Granny, granny, granny, they almost had us, didn't they?"
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
An Open Letter to Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, Prime Minister of Turkey:
Mr. Erdoğan:
I wish to express my admiration for you, above all, as a champion of justice and of freedom of world historical significance. As an admirer, I would like to lend you my words for a public statement you have been literally dying (whether you're willing to admit it) to find the words and the personal courage to publish. I am sure a good Turkish translator will have no trouble preserving the spirit of what I say, its all pretty universal:
I, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, a sailor's son, a child of Turkey and of Asia, born in the most beautiful city in Europe, etc. etc., you can tell it better than I, have been blessed by God to be esteemed a leader by my own people. The great heroes of freedom, of whom I am truly blessed of God to have yet a hope of joining, if we, as a Turkish nation, can find a place for compassion in our hearts during this, the first civil crisis of a new Turkey, have set a precedent of humility that their aspirant successors abrogate at their immortal peril.
The eyes of God and of men cannot look down on me if I decide to seek the Presidency of my nation, for I have played the game skillfully, and by the rules. If my partisans are, in all humility, more securely in power, within the law, than the law is really meant to give to any single organization, and if I, therefore, have more power than the leader of a free country is meant to possess within his own borders, then it falls to me, in the sight of God, as a leader of free men, to assure my countrymen that I remember my people, that I will not abridge their freedom, and that I will not resist legitimate attempts to unseat my government at the ballot box.
For my people's future, for the future of the political movement I do not wish to die with me, and for my own immortal reputation, I will not serve concurrently as the leader of my political party and the president of my nation. To some this will seem an insufficient, insignificant gesture, political theater, meant to appease just enough people to survive this crisis, and to them I say, ORGANIZE!!! Use these moments in the streets together, misbehaving in the name of justice, taunting your countrymen in uniform with hurled insults and hurled stones, use this time to glorify your people, in the name of justice, and of righteousness, and in the glory of God.
Challenge me. Challenge my AK Party to be better, to serve you better, to lead you better. Because you are right: I have, in some sense, too much power, even if I still feel infuriatingly powerless in times like these, and you, the younger generation, the rising heart of a growing Turkish Nation do not see yourselves in the laws of my party. But this is not because I am right, or wrong, or a dictator or a democrat. It is because I am in power in a still-young democracy and because you, Turkey, you must find yourself in this crisis, for my party is what you, its members, make of it, what you challenge it to be.
This is not about a park, although I have ordered a review of the development plan to evaluate if there are ways that the community which felt slighted in the planning process can be accommodated. This development, however, must go forward, ultimately. Turkey must go forward, and although this neighborhood and many beautiful Turkish places across the nation will be forever changed in this process, together, as a nation, we will build a future that has as much to give us pride in being Turkish as the past we have, with reverence, and respect, build anew.
At least, that's what I would say, and do, if I were in your position. You are not the foolish Mr. Putin, to watch the reputation and the nation you have carefully nurtured crumble around you because you do not feel personally ready to stop working. At a certain point, the same work that was righteous yesterday becomes tyranny tomorrow, and you, sir, do not get to choose when that is.
Respectfully,
George Levin
I wish to express my admiration for you, above all, as a champion of justice and of freedom of world historical significance. As an admirer, I would like to lend you my words for a public statement you have been literally dying (whether you're willing to admit it) to find the words and the personal courage to publish. I am sure a good Turkish translator will have no trouble preserving the spirit of what I say, its all pretty universal:
I, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, a sailor's son, a child of Turkey and of Asia, born in the most beautiful city in Europe, etc. etc., you can tell it better than I, have been blessed by God to be esteemed a leader by my own people. The great heroes of freedom, of whom I am truly blessed of God to have yet a hope of joining, if we, as a Turkish nation, can find a place for compassion in our hearts during this, the first civil crisis of a new Turkey, have set a precedent of humility that their aspirant successors abrogate at their immortal peril.
The eyes of God and of men cannot look down on me if I decide to seek the Presidency of my nation, for I have played the game skillfully, and by the rules. If my partisans are, in all humility, more securely in power, within the law, than the law is really meant to give to any single organization, and if I, therefore, have more power than the leader of a free country is meant to possess within his own borders, then it falls to me, in the sight of God, as a leader of free men, to assure my countrymen that I remember my people, that I will not abridge their freedom, and that I will not resist legitimate attempts to unseat my government at the ballot box.
For my people's future, for the future of the political movement I do not wish to die with me, and for my own immortal reputation, I will not serve concurrently as the leader of my political party and the president of my nation. To some this will seem an insufficient, insignificant gesture, political theater, meant to appease just enough people to survive this crisis, and to them I say, ORGANIZE!!! Use these moments in the streets together, misbehaving in the name of justice, taunting your countrymen in uniform with hurled insults and hurled stones, use this time to glorify your people, in the name of justice, and of righteousness, and in the glory of God.
Challenge me. Challenge my AK Party to be better, to serve you better, to lead you better. Because you are right: I have, in some sense, too much power, even if I still feel infuriatingly powerless in times like these, and you, the younger generation, the rising heart of a growing Turkish Nation do not see yourselves in the laws of my party. But this is not because I am right, or wrong, or a dictator or a democrat. It is because I am in power in a still-young democracy and because you, Turkey, you must find yourself in this crisis, for my party is what you, its members, make of it, what you challenge it to be.
This is not about a park, although I have ordered a review of the development plan to evaluate if there are ways that the community which felt slighted in the planning process can be accommodated. This development, however, must go forward, ultimately. Turkey must go forward, and although this neighborhood and many beautiful Turkish places across the nation will be forever changed in this process, together, as a nation, we will build a future that has as much to give us pride in being Turkish as the past we have, with reverence, and respect, build anew.
At least, that's what I would say, and do, if I were in your position. You are not the foolish Mr. Putin, to watch the reputation and the nation you have carefully nurtured crumble around you because you do not feel personally ready to stop working. At a certain point, the same work that was righteous yesterday becomes tyranny tomorrow, and you, sir, do not get to choose when that is.
Respectfully,
George Levin
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