Notes From Nowhere

Running a blog on open source software (in my case: WordPress) can sometimes feel like flying an airplane through a moonless night, without instruments: you cannot help but think that, maybe, in the next second, you’ll hit a mountain. Not good. And whatever happens, your host most likely will not be of any help.

Perhaps the most common “hitting-a-mountain”-equivalent in blogging is a corrupt database. Now, the latest WordPress-update requires a database upgrade. That means that, among other things, you have to create a backup of your old database, then create a new, empty database, and import your old database into it. While seemingly a standard procedure, even such a simple upgrade, as I now know, is not without pitfalls. However, Don Campbell wrote a rather foolproof description of how to do it, here.

While things will work perfectly if you follow what the link tells you, I think there are better ways than backing up your database manually. The manual backups are tedious, and inevitably you’ll do them less often than you should. I find it easier to use Austin Matzko’s plugin for that, here. The plugin also produces cleaner code compared to the manual export – you can import your backup into your new database as is, which is nice.

Dear Dr. Hare,

thanks so much for your reply. I just noted that you did not send me a season’s greetings card, and that you actually never do that. I still get cards from people I met in the distant past, before I decided to do only things I like, with people I like. That was in 1999. Some of the cards from before that time depress me – they remind me of how terrible “the human condition” can be. This year some cards were so bad that I dropped the idea of doing any such stuff myself. I considered posting a ‘worst of’- vs. a ‘best of’-collection on NFN, but I guess that would not be fair. Perhaps I should just post the attempt at poetry from my bank?

Very much looking forward to seeing you in your office between holidays.

J.

Dear Jens,

people who send “Happy Holidays” cards can be a bit tiresome, I know. They want to show you that, by now, they have five children who wear expensive clothes, will grow up to be important, and have another five kids of their own. Or they want to make clear that, economic crisis or not, they are doing great. Or they are sentimental, because their lives are full of nonsense, and for ten minutes a year, when they carry home their Christmas tree, they get to reflect on it, and then they sob and wonder whether they still have friends.

But I always think that some of the card-writers are just plain lonely, and hope that some other lost soul will respond. You need to be gracious.

We shall get over these days, as always. And I’ll see you next week.

Dr. Hare

Dear Dr. Hare,

it strikes me that Americans have raised competition to an art form. I don’t mean that Americans are more competitive than other people. It’s more about the idea of winning, and an interesting readiness to accept a complete lack of skill (I’m thinking of a TV show about people climbing Mount Everest – the idea that one should be a skilled climber doesn’t seem to figure in their motivations, it’s all about “personal achievement,” “winning a battle,” and so forth).

But what really interests me is the culture of competition here, the rituals, and the social codes, especially before and after the actual confrontation. For example in the political arena: People can beat the snot out of each other for months, but when that’s done that’s done – the winner is generous and humble, the loser is professional and displays some humor, and you move on. Then, when the time comes, you go another round. In comparison, political battles in European democracies seem quite awkward and clumsy. Too much resentment, too much dead-seriousness. And perhaps most fundamentally: no manners! There’s a game-like aspect to the culture here that I think I’m coming to like. It makes it easier for people not to be enemies. Or does it?

I hope this makes sense to you. I’m really interested how you, as a psychotherapist, see this.

Oh, and I got home safely from the last session, across the park through this crazy blizzard. I’m still embarrassed about how I showed up in your office, all cold and wet, like a mountain man.

Jens

Dear Jens,

it was interesting to get a sense of your mountain persona the other day, to see you covered in snow and quite liking it. I know what you mean about American adventure tourism. It’s not about skill, no. It’s more like a substitute for therapy: fighting your “inner demons,” that’s how people tend to describe it. When it is about the beauty of nature, and the healing powers of solitude, I’m a little more hopeful about it. But why do I even mention this – for you, as I am well aware, I shall never be able to compete with the mountains.

About your other point. Bad losers, well, that’s a difficult topic. I’m not a coach, and I resist the temptation to sell the kind of support that’s geared toward winning. But what does all this have to do with you? I think I see you as two persons here. I recall that you were a rather ambitious athlete at some point, and I sense that you might have the sportsman’s attitude to competition, and having a beer afterward. But there’s also this other side to you. I would have suspected that you find quite a few things not worth competing for. Why are you thinking about this? And why didn’t you mention it when we spoke at my office? I felt that you didn’t really talk about the things that were on your mind. I’m a bit puzzled and uneasy. You should come in soon again. Don’t miss next week’s appointment. In part, I had you in mind when I decided to be working between Christmas and New Years.

Yours,
Dr. Hare