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Sunday, December 20, 2015

Meritocracy Christmas!

We at the Hil-Gle Wonderblog value longterm professional relationships with our team members. This is about personal courage, sound nerves, and stark beauty. Because we are a meritocracy people are promoted without having to spend a minimum amount of time in their role. This should give the “person” who has been cleaning our toilets for the past ten years cause for pause. Leave behind the vicissitudes of social media. Hil-Gle Wonderblog’s extraordinary history—and current hold on the public imagination—both epitomizes the American dream and sullies it. At the very least, we promise a few more postings in the upcoming months.

Like most resolutions, mission statements and other self-reverential noise making ours has the validity of being cobbled together from other things which sounded good when we read them the first time. I am still a tad unclear as to what a meritocracy is supposed to be—which is the best reason ever for starting one of my own.

My own life is chock full of elements which do not need to compete on the basis of merit. In that spirit, I think I will opt to keep  all of my family members and friends for the coming year. Ditto most of my utility companies and the forces of nature. Magnanimous of me, I know, but a true meritocracy requires a baseline by which all things can be measured. I suppose this is my way of putting the cable company and centrifugal force on notice. In the spirit of Christmas, such notice will be officially executed on January 3rd, also known as Sacking Day. Or Sacking Day Two, for those nouns (persons/places/things) which merited being officially noticed right before Thanksgiving.

Unlike two years ago, our world has not been transmuted into a total frozen hell on or about Halloween. In fact, it has been downright mellow in these Chicagoland parts. ‘Chicagoland’ itself was a creation of the publisher of the Chicago Tribune to describe the range of his media holdings. At one time, it went from the Quad Cities to South Bend, from Rockford to Indianapolis. Today it and the media empire it once defined are considerably smaller. But at least those smaller parts are warmer this year.

The term ‘Chicagoland’ was always an insufferable imposition. Places such as Moline and Geneva have always had their own identities and little need to sublimate them. That said, Chicagoland sounds a lot better than Chiraq. This Chi-raq is not, however, a big part of Chicagoland or even Chicago. It is a few square miles of the west and south sides of Chicago—places where 99% of the population of Chicagoland never travel. Moreover it is not a place where even most people in Chicago ever travel—because there is nothing attractive in substandard housing and liquor stores. (There are some nice restaurants in Chi-raq.) One could argue that the denizens of Chi-raq have somehow flunked out of the meritocracy. This, large writ small, has been the argument of the Republican party through two election cycles. I’m not sure where that leaves us. Do we yelp “Let them die!” like the old lady from Arizona. Or do we set aside the concept of measuring folks by their economic utility and come to some understanding that everyone should be entitled to not having their neighborhoods overrun with lawlessness.

Or we could send in the drones. Isn’t that the answer to everything?

I honestly thought that Dickens had done in the Utilitarians.  The determinists, conservatives and libertarians continue on as if a refutation of winner take all has never occurred. Gecko’s boast of “Greed is good” was a fiction, uttered for effect. Conceal Carry Social Darwinism is the path to Mad Max, not prosperity for all. Given that prosperity itself is not a problem, perhaps a shift to the “for all” portion of the equation is in order. And we have enough water, too—if we moved it around.  

This year found my own identity stolen—not once, not twice, but three times. Each theft of personal information was the result of a massive breach on the part of a trusted institution. Previously, I’ve been encroached on about once a year for the past five years. I hope whomever took me is happy with me and will buy me something nice.

As a result of these breaches I now have three services guarding my empty barn’s door. These were given to me, free of charge, by the very entities who failed to protect my information in the first place. So I am to trust in their abilities to shop? None of these are the name brand in the field, which itself was just sued for hundreds of millions of dollars—largely for not being able to do any of the things it said it could. Thankfully I am being protected by three different also ran firms who have successfully lowest bid pitched entities with a demonstrable incompetence in the field of information security. They might as well have signed me up for Stanley Steamer. At least my furniture would be clean.

So now I have three sets of passwords to write down and three different websites to learn to navigate. Indeed, the joy of life is measured in such things! Plus emails. (Including a really weird sex offender alert. For a time there I was worried that fake me was having a more involved social life than real me would ever dare. But no. It was just an alert about my neighborhood. Ha ha. What fun!) I really would have preferred an option to “opt out” of these services, since their only value is to add heaps of more precious stress to my life.

I have also been an awardee in two class action  suits. In both cases, not a dime was passed on to me. Instead, I received a coupon. I must say that they were nice coupons, for things I might conceive of buying and not for kitty litter. (Long story there.) All of this got me thinking. When I screw someone over, as might happen from time to time, it is incumbent on me to apologize and, if possible, make the wronged party whole. And if I should fail to do so, the law will thump me. Why does this not apply to people who have scattered my personal demographics to the four winds? I am sure that there is some logic in offering me onerous services which don’t function, but I do take cash. Or money orders. Or coupons for not kitty litter.

***
Our much touted (3 years) publisher biography of  William Cotton will be running soon.






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