When a revised lifetime of six months grows twelve-fold into six years, it’s tempting to declare a miracle of modern medicine. However, I think it’s more illustrative of some failures of our society. I don’t want to be overtly political, but let me run some numbers by you. On September 11, 2001 nearly 3,000 people were killed in the terrorist attacks on the United States. As result of those attacks, our government chose to go to war with Iraq (to be clear, the two events were connected only by fetid Federal fear mongering and not by fact). That war has cost us approximately $500 billion or $2 billion per week.

Meanwhile, cancer kills over 1,370 Americans every day, 500,000 every year, or 3,500,000 Americans since September 11, 2001. This doesn’t include the countless other cancer victims bravely suffering through their treatment. And so, what is our government’s reaction to nature’s attack on Americans? A paltry (and shrinking) $4.7 billion annual budget for the National Cancer Institute. WTF? Every three weeks, our government spends more treasure fighting in Iraq, than it spends in 52 weeks of fighting cancer. Predictably Irrational, one might say. Looking at these numbers it’s easy to imagine a world where, if our choices were different, a “six months to live” diagnosis could instead mean “cure.” We can do better.

No death occurs without shades of existentialism. And if we can do better, we should start by doing so in our daily lives. Remembering to wholly love those who are close to us and to tell them so. Exulting in both the joy and challenges of our lives. Being thankful for every day. Six months or six years is too short to live. A single day is too long to live with regret.

This weekend, I began reading George David Roberts beautiful book, Shantaram. Today, its opening paragraph has found special residence in my heart. Shantaram begins:

It took me a long time and most of the world to learn what I know about love and fate and the choices we make, but the heart of it came to me in an instant, while I was chained to a wall and being tortured. I realised, somehow, through the screaming in my mind, that even in that shackled, bloody helplessness, I was still free: free to hate the men who were torturing me, or to forgive them. It doesn’t sound like much, I know. But in the bite of the chain, when it’s all you’ve got, that freedom is a universe of possibility. And the choice you make, between hating and forgiving, can become the story of your life.

Best learned with a full lifetime ahead.

You can donate to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society here.

Was anyone else disappointed by Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez?

At times the writing was lyrical. There is some nice symbolism and interplay between notions of modernity and romantic idealism. But the characters… What’s the point of a romance if you feel nothing but indifference for the protagonists? I found them to be too flawed, too delusional, and too (self) deceptive. Perhaps that is the point. A deep, abiding love can be experienced by anyone. Or perhaps, the need for love can corrupt one’s character without corrupting the love itself.

Either way, I just didn’t feel it.

Thirty-two years of precedence have disappeared in a flash. It is both a lost opportunity to embrace a long-term perspective on the health of our planet. And it is another sad display of the utter lack of transparency of the Bush-Cheney administration on issues related to our national energy policy. But it also provides a wonderous view into the contortions of US politics.

The state of California had asked the EPA for a waiver on emissions standards for new cars and, for the first time since 1975, was denied by the federal government. The waiver would have allowed California to enforce more strict emissions controls on new cars than had been mandated by the EPA. Seventeen other states representing 45% of the US car-buying population had voluntarily agreed to uphold the same standards if the waiver had passed.

I’ll leave the discussion of the environmental impact (to me one of the depressing parts) to other folks. I’ll also let other folks discuss the lack of transparency (the other depressing part), except to point out that as reported in the Washington Post, the the EPA “decision documents” have yet to be released. So what’s left to discuss? A lot of political intrigue and machinations. Here’s a list:

1. The Timing. The EPA denial came on the same day the Bush administration signed a new energy bill. With the signing they tried to paint themselves as being environmentally responsible.
2. The Forces Against. Michigan and the auto industry tend to vote strongly democratic. Here we see an alliance between Michigan politicians and a Republican administration.
3. The Forces For. A Republican governor (Arnold Schwarzenegger), a liberal Attorney General (Jerry Brown).
4. Support for States’ Rights. Typically a cause very close to the heart of the Republican party, here we had a Republican president rationalizing this decision through the need for a Federal standard, and a Democratic Congressional contingent pushing for the right for states to be able to determine their own policies and regulations independent of the national government.

Not confused yet? Now think of another policy (maybe family planning?), and imagine how the politics and rhetoric would shift. Fascinating.

I just finished reading the de rigeur book of the summer, The Black Swan: The Impact of the Highly Improbable, by Nassim Nicholas Taleb. Here’s a step by step guide on how to best enjoy it:

• Step One: Cut a hole in a box (joke)
• Step Two: Read the jacket
• Step Three (Optional): If Step Two proved difficult, have a friend who read the book explain the central thesis
• Step Four: Read Chaos by James Gleick

The Black Swan is one of those books that I enjoyed much more before I actually read it. To put it in the authors own terms, it looked great in my “antilibrary.” Despite my violent agreement with the central premise, it has shocked me back into blogging (after a 4 month layoff) and encouraged me to get back to reading fiction (which I generally find manipulative).

I violently agree with the central thesis that large unforseen events have tremendous impact on our world and it is impossible for any model to accurately predict these events or capture all of the variables which lead to their occurrence. Viewed from an investment perspective, these events provide the opportunity for outsize economic creation or destruction. And because chance plays a central factor in their development a perception of the world the daily reading of the newspaper may actually limits a person’s ability to imagine these rare, non-normal “Black Swan” events.

But the book is too long. Despite my initial eager agreement I found myself becoming more resistant to the author’s ideas as the book progressed. You can only be bludgeoned with the same idea for so many pages without wanting to challenge it. The author often recounts some of his debates with a few scholarly types (including some Nobel prize winners). But all challenger are to be scoffed at as the author seems to think they suffer from the anti-Lake Wobegon Effect – all below average morons.

The book also suffers in that a key supporting idea of the author’s is that empirical evidence and anecdotes do not provide enough data in order to predict the future. We must instead begin to look to the absence of evidence to better understand the dynamics shaping our world. But then Taleb uses anecdotes (including a fictional one – wtf?!?) and a few selected events to explain his ideas.

Beyond that, The Black Swan introduces the reader to the author’s global lifestyle of sweet cocktail parties and intellectual walks with his brilliant friends. I still don’t know what this has to do with “the impact of the highly improbable.” Let me know if you figure it out.