Where words end, music begins

In amongst the Inner Hebrides off the western coast of Scotland, Nature has placed one of her greatest marvels, namely Fingal’s Cave, its enormous entrance rising in barren grandeur from the ocean, lined with innumerable fluted columns. Within lies a kind of natural throne imposing enough to suggest the kingly seat of Neptune himself. When a storm is raging, the scene at Fingal's Cave is said to be sublime.

The prolific Scottish writer and poet, Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832), described it as "one of the most extraordinary places I ever beheld, baffling all description” and induced Felix Mendelssohn (1809-47) to make a storm-tossed visit there in 1829. The sight and sound of the sea swell tumbling into the Cave made a profound impression on the young 20 year old composer. The theme which he later developed into his ever-popular Hebrides Overture apparently occurred to him on this trip, immortalizing the mystical aura of this curious freak of nature.

The most striking aspect of the music is its otherworldly tone-painting quality. One can hear the haunting breaking of waves, almost see the basalt columns and strange colors, and overall, sense the overwhelming vastness of the cave:

Flynn who?

A widely held hypothesis is that people lose intelligence as they age, the so-called Flynn Effect, arrived at by comparing IQ tests of elderly people with today's young people. This flys in the face of comparisons of IQ scores of these same "elderly" people to their own era (a half a century before) where apparently IQ losses with age are minimal. One has to wonder about the IQ test makers themselves. Surely they've changed along with their various indeterminate intelligence "measuring" devices. Who knows? Where's Einstein when you need him?

"Great God! this is an awful place..."

This is a stunning picture of a man standing at the south pole a century ago after a grueling trek, man-hauling sleds some 800 miles, and now facing the same going back. Conditions were appalling: temperatures plummeting to minus 45 degrees F., nearly impassable terrain, blinding blizzards, or blinding sunshine. "Great God! this is an awful place..."* he wrote in his journal at the time in 1912, before long distance communications and airplanes. He and his four companions didn’t make it back, and their fate was unknown for almost a year after they had actually perished. A sense of the foreboding inevitableness of a doomed expedition is etched in the man’s anguished face.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aLeOl0yj0-A&feature=related

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*This remarkable iconic photo taken 17Jan12 (discovered in a tent a year later with their frozen bodies) shows British explorer Robert Scott [left] and his companions having just arrived at the South pole. It dramatically conveys in their unposed postures the dazed dismay and deep disappointment they feel at the crushing discovery that the Norwegians had beaten them to the pole just four weeks earlier. Scott's discouragement is painfully palpable in his journal entry for that day:

“Great God! this is an awful place and terrible enough for us to have laboured to it without the reward of priority. Well, it is something to have got here, and the wind may be our friend to-morrow. ... Now for the run home and a desperate struggle. I wonder if we can do it”.

Enjoyment of a single hour ...

The future has a way of arriving unannounced ... to make tomorrow a sole spring of action is a folly which deludes us all through life with endless expectation, and leaves us at death without the thorough enjoyment of a single hour ...

"And then when late in life, a man looks back over the path traversed, a cold wind sweeps over the fading landscape and he feels somehow that he has missed it all. For the reality of life, we learn too late, is in the living tissue of it from day to day, not in the expectation of better, nor in the fear of worse. These two things, to be always looking ahead and to worry over things that haven't yet happened and very likely won't happen -- those take the very essence out of life" ... Stephen Leacock (1869-1944), Canadian economist and humourist

Greeting each day

A great pianist once explained to an interviewer how he prepared himself for his celebrated afternoon Sunday concert performances at Carnegie Hall. He would rise in the late morning, and slowly and carefully wash. He would then meticulously select and lay out each item of clothing he would wear, organized in a sequential pattern on his buffet. He likened it to a meditative ritual executed with considerable care. In a trance-like manner, he would slowly don each item of clothing. Apparently the whole process took some time, even as much as an hour. It’s a habit I’ve adopted myself to greet most every day, albeit nowhere near an hour, and not usually in preparation for some kind of public performance. Even then, the results have been remarkable. It never fails to settle my mood and calm me.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q-F7UIun9Bk&feature=related

A China Play

Untethered communication is booming worldwide, not the least the strong wireless growth in China. CHINA TECHFAITH WIRE, providing mobile handset design services in the People’s Republic of China and internationally, is a new kid on the block. This is ground floor time folks!

Recommendation: China Techfaith Wire (CNTF). [Check marker: CNTF @ $14.60]

Stem Cells

The discovery, development, and commercialization of stem cell-based therapies to treat diseases and injuries (particularly of the nervous system) present an excellent investment opportunity. There’s lots of controversy stemming from so-called ethical concerns spooking investors. Politics versus Science always makes for strange and strained bedfellows, but the veritable avalanche of world-wide interest in stem cell research is unstoppable. It's worth a shot for prudent risk takers!

Recommendation: Stem Cells, Inc. (STEM). [Check marker: STEM @ $2.70]

Hot seat!

A seat on the New York Stock Exchange sold today at $4 million.

Winning

Win the girl, win the lottery, win the stock markets, win the corporate battle ... always there was something left over, a residue you did not count on or even imagine. Winning was never the only thing; often it wasn't anything.