Thursday, September 29, 2011
Thursday, September 22, 2011
At least
the Tea Partiers tell the truth. They want lower taxes and smaller government, and they'll tell you that, even if it makes them look cruel.
I want the Dems to tall the truth, too. I want them to stop saying that the super-rich "don't pay their fair share," and to start saying, "We want a lot of stuff. And we can't afford or are unwilling to pay for that stuff ourselves. So we're going to make you pay for it for us."
At least it'd be honest.
I want the Dems to tall the truth, too. I want them to stop saying that the super-rich "don't pay their fair share," and to start saying, "We want a lot of stuff. And we can't afford or are unwilling to pay for that stuff ourselves. So we're going to make you pay for it for us."
At least it'd be honest.
Just because . . .
I'll never be a top two-percenter doesn't entitle me to be disrespectful of those that are.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Motivation
So I'm having a tough time getting back to writing, which I suspect is an illness that lots of writers find themselves afflicted with from time to time. For me, it's not just that I'm not putting words on the page, it's that I'm breaking a commitment that I've made to myself that I'm going to see this project (actually, these projects) through to completion.
The problem is that nobody has really put me on a deadline, so in the evenings, when I do my best writing, it's all too easy to call up an episode of Columbo (did you know they last for almost two hours?) and open a frothy amber beverage instead of doing what I've told myself I'm going to do.
In the past, when I've reached the point where I ignore self-imposed deadlines, I've found it helpful to call in a neutral enforcer. And of those neutral enforcers, none has been more effective than a website organized by a couple of economists, stickk.com
The premise is simple: you go to stickk.com and register a commitment that you've made to yourself. They take your credit card number, and if you and a neutral third party fail to report that you've met your commitment, the website bills your credit card for an amount you predetermined, and transfers those funds to the charity of your choosing.
Of course, if you pick a charity you appreciate, it might be tough to keep your commitment. "Well, looks like I won't get this book chapter written, but at least the money I posted is saving starving children in Lower Volga." So Stickk.com gives you the option of choosing an anti-charity, a charity you despise, instead. "Damn, I'd better drop those last few pounds or the Humans For Clubbing Cute Baby Seals Society will get my $50 donation. We can't have that, can we?"
So today, I'm making a commitment to myself, with stickk.com as the enforcer: a major revision to the first chapter of my book, and a draft of another chapter, by the time the clock strikes midnight on the last day of September.
The problem is that nobody has really put me on a deadline, so in the evenings, when I do my best writing, it's all too easy to call up an episode of Columbo (did you know they last for almost two hours?) and open a frothy amber beverage instead of doing what I've told myself I'm going to do.
In the past, when I've reached the point where I ignore self-imposed deadlines, I've found it helpful to call in a neutral enforcer. And of those neutral enforcers, none has been more effective than a website organized by a couple of economists, stickk.com
The premise is simple: you go to stickk.com and register a commitment that you've made to yourself. They take your credit card number, and if you and a neutral third party fail to report that you've met your commitment, the website bills your credit card for an amount you predetermined, and transfers those funds to the charity of your choosing.
Of course, if you pick a charity you appreciate, it might be tough to keep your commitment. "Well, looks like I won't get this book chapter written, but at least the money I posted is saving starving children in Lower Volga." So Stickk.com gives you the option of choosing an anti-charity, a charity you despise, instead. "Damn, I'd better drop those last few pounds or the Humans For Clubbing Cute Baby Seals Society will get my $50 donation. We can't have that, can we?"
So today, I'm making a commitment to myself, with stickk.com as the enforcer: a major revision to the first chapter of my book, and a draft of another chapter, by the time the clock strikes midnight on the last day of September.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Can I get a second opinion?
This fall, I'm using a first draft of my book manuscript in my Economic Analysis of Social Issues course. I have asked my students to carefully proofread it for errors in spelling, grammar, and punctuation, and am rewarding them for finding mistakes.
The response has been overwhelming. They've found dozens of errors that I and several others have repeatedly overlooked. It's impressive, and humbling, and a bit embarrassing, and totally worth doing.
I will never again send anything out for publication without having a second set of eyes look over what I've written.
The response has been overwhelming. They've found dozens of errors that I and several others have repeatedly overlooked. It's impressive, and humbling, and a bit embarrassing, and totally worth doing.
I will never again send anything out for publication without having a second set of eyes look over what I've written.
Friday, August 26, 2011
The most reasonable argument for free trade I can muster: A parable.
Bob and Phil live in North Dakota just south of the Canadian border. Bob is a rancher, Phil is a farmer. They have been trading Bob's beef for Phil's corn for the last five decades. They trade high-quality products at an exchange rate that both find attractive.
One day, a government official comes calling with the news that 100 years ago, the US Geological Survey made an error in surveying the border, and that Phil actually lives in Canada.
Bob promptly stops trading with Phil and buys his corn from Neil, who lives in Nebraska. It costs more, and it's not as good, but at least he's buying American.
One day, a government official comes calling with the news that 100 years ago, the US Geological Survey made an error in surveying the border, and that Phil actually lives in Canada.
Bob promptly stops trading with Phil and buys his corn from Neil, who lives in Nebraska. It costs more, and it's not as good, but at least he's buying American.
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