Who are these people??

If you’re watching television in a linear fashion, using the clicker to bounce from station to station in real time…

You must be a baby boomer. Everybody else got the memo, that visual entertainment is an on demand medium. Something to be called up when you so desire. To the point that a lot of the detritus that flies by on the airwaves is unknown to most people. Like the talking heads on NBC’s year in review show.

How did I know it was NBC?

Because it was their talent and their talent only. I don’t get up early enough to watch the “Today Show,” but I am aware of the Savannah Guthrie/Matt Lauer shenanigans, and when I saw Al Roker too, I knew this was a branding exercise. Kinda sad if you think about it, kinda like the old football team getting back together and believing they’re still relevant, giving it one more college try before time passes them by.

But at least I knew who those people were. The rest of the commentators?

They looked like nothing so much as those people living in their parents’ basements bloviating for VH1. Remember when it was a badge of honor to appear on television? I do, but most of the younger generation does not. Used to be appearing on TV was for the chosen few, like a record deal, now there are so many outlets that everybody gets a chance, and almost nobody breaks through. America is about sales. And everybody on television is selling fame. Can’t anybody say no?

Equally as laughable were the countdown shows. The aforementioned NBC decided to go with a special edition of Seth Meyers’ late night program, the one with anemic ratings that almost no one watches. Howard Stern is the king of late night TV, and he’s on in the morning! But his show repeats all day long so those who care can catch up and in this bizarre media world it’s those who go on after eleven who get the ink, this is the same media that told us Hillary was gonna win, can we stop covering the irrelevant Jimmys?

And the hottest actress of today revealed herself to be an idiot. Never forget, actors read lines, at best they have chameleon-like abilities, assuming they’ve got any talent at all. But as bad as Jennifer Lawrence was, Seth Meyers’ interviewing skills were even worse. He was uptight. Conversation is a skill. Which the late night hosts seem to have forgotten, ever since David Letterman skewed these shows towards comedy. And Meyers’ opening news bits were funny, but a younger Seth Meyers would be poking fun at himself for doing the same SNL shtick more than a decade on.

So we flipped the channel to see Ryan Seacrest, he without personality, hosting an affair with fake enthusiasm featuring talent most of us had never heard of.

I live in a bubble. I watch almost no television. But when I get into a room with a bunch of people and even the young ‘uns don’t know the hit songs, I’m convinced the model is broken. Even the biggest musical acts are niche. We think we’re still living in the MTV era, when if you’re on that channel everybody knows your name, but today no one knows most of the names, but if you admit this you’re castigated as an out-of-it pariah, who made these people the hipster police? Wear your alienated personality, fly your oblivious freak flag high, you’ll find you’re with the masses, that media keeps shoveling this crap as if anybody cares when the truth is…

These shows were not made for you. Come on, if you can drive, if you’re of college age or above, and you’re home watching these countdown shows the joke is on you. They skew young, kids who are locked inside with no options are the audience. But having been taken prisoner last night…

The recognizable were not so. I kept arguing that couldn’t be Jenny McCarthy, until someone on screen mentioned her name. I kinda get the boob implants which kickstarted her career. I wish it weren’t so, but media is run by old geezers impressed by hooters so it got her a leg up. But what has she done to herself now? Was it the lip implants? The cheek implants? Trying to look beautiful, she became anonymous, kinda like those plastic surgery freaks Jennifer Grey and Leeza Gibbons before her. Own what you’ve got, you’re unique, it’s your identity. And if this is the game you’re playing, to fit the looks and mores of television, you’ve lost the plot.

And Kathie Lee… I couldn’t tell it was her either!

But back to Ryan Seacrest. At least Dick Clark built that edifice, he had a right to host it. But Ryan’s like a record exec who never owned his own label, who never had his own money at risk. We give you a pass in the U.S. if you sit atop something you created. But caretakers? No way! As for Carson Daly… He’s too old. Yes, I might be ageist, but it would be one thing if Carson had any talent to begin with, and he doesn’t!

And speaking of talent…

One act after another came out and lip-synched and looked small.

But they could not turn down the opportunity, the exposure.

I don’t know what comes first, a clarification of who is really a star or a willingness of performers to say no. I enjoyed Mike Posner, but his heartfelt song “I Took A Pill In Ibiza” went by in a blur leaving no one but me satisfied. Thomas Rhett did three songs, ably, but he looked like a two-dimensional cartoon character trying to sell us breakfast cereal.

I give props to Alicia Keys, for her anti-makeup stance. But a young woman in attendance said Alicia was very brave. Which got me to thinking, if you were not beautiful could you take this risk? But one thing’s for sure, Ms. Keys is the purveyor of second-rate material, another vaunted star who doesn’t shine so bright but is anointed by the media so we are supposed to believe.

At least Fifth Harmony makes no bones about appealing to the still-developing youngsters. As for Panic! At The Disco…where’s the panic? Another B level act trying to stay in the game.

Which brings us to Mariah Carey. The evening’s designated train-wreck.

She delivered, that’s what you can count on her for. She’s long surrendered the crown of talent, that famous voice and range. Too many times she’s sung poorly live or not at all, tracks being her friend and last night…

Was a new low.

This is where we are folks. When you drop the mic, not caring that the fakery is being revealed. This is Ashlee Simpson on steroids. Now the media-industrial complex just thinks we at home are brain dead and if you see the face and hear the record that is enough. Then again, these are the same networks that sell us singing shows that don’t mint stars. But all the contestants want to be Mariah Carey, and the woman herself…is a complete joke!

How much further down this path can we go?  Where pretty faces who can’t sing front songs about nothing? Music has abdicated its power. Who amongst today’s purveyors could be nominated for a Nobel decades hence? Damned if I know.

So…

The mainstream has become a sideshow.

That’s the story of 2016. How the puffed-up media that thought it ruled did not.

Fox News couldn’t kill Trump. It capitulated. And then its head, Roger Ailes, was ousted.

The “New York Times” assured us Hillary Clinton was gonna win, and then she didn’t.

And Viacom, the keeper of the TV hipster flame, continued to go down the tubes, most people believe it cannot be saved, Les Moonves didn’t want to merge it with CBS and be taken down the drain.

And “Rolling Stone” is now a pamphlet.

We are seeing a passing of the torch. From old media to new.

And the old media doesn’t like it.

The old media keeps excoriating Mark Zuckerberg, as if Americans were nincompoops who could not tell false from true and Facebook is more influential than any outlet with perceived gravitas. First and foremost, fake news did not sway the election, it just reinforced beliefs already extant. But I will say…people find Facebook more entertaining than television. It’s personalized, it’s about real people. I mean what would you even say to Jenny McCarthy? You got tons of people not to vaccinate their kids and now you’ve sliced and diced your face in a vain attempt to hold on to a smidge of stardom? And Ryan Seacrest is just a vessel, with no thoughts of his own. He’ll be anything you want him to be, just like the rest of today’s perceived “stars,” who care about fame more than art.

And what was up with those gloves? I kept hearing how cold it was in NYC but my Dark Sky app said it was 41, positively balmy for a New Year’s Eve. If you can’t even get the temperature right, why should I believe you on the real issues?

But the truth is no one’s home. No one’s in control. Not only are we not paying attention, those in charge don’t realize this. Advertisers keep pouring dollars into television because they don’t trust the online metrics yet the “Wall Street Journal” rates the commercials and I’ve seen almost none of them!

But if you’re pissed off about the above…

You’ve got the wrong perspective. We won. We killed the mainstream media. We stopped paying attention. We go online for our news and we want it immediately.  We don’t want to be teased about what’s coming up, just give us the facts.

And the fact is next year there’s no way I’m staying home on New Year’s Eve.

I’m going out for dinner with friends and if the action fades I’ll turn the lights out, long before the ball drops.

Because I know and you know it can be New Year’s Eve any night of the year. We toppled Black Friday, everybody got the memo that Amazon is not only cheap every day, oftentimes it’s cheaper than the day after Thanksgiving!

We’ve become unmoored from convention. We have it our way every damn day.

And that’s great.

Now we’ve just got to clear some of the dead wood out of the way. It’ll happen. There will come a time when there will be no more of these shows.

And I can’t wait.

The Last Night Of The World – Spotify

Bruce Cockburn – Last Night Of The World

If this were the last night of the world
What would I do
What would I do that was different

Eat waffles.

I’m not supposed to eat carbs. Not the veggie kind, you know, the good-tasting kind.

And I don’t. I find that I feel so much better the following day. My nutritionist says I’m insulin-resistant, which means… The sugar has a hard time getting into the cells and when it does the cells want more and I get high and then I crash and if you’re laughing you’re probably under thirty, maybe fifty, you survive on a diet of burgers and fries and don’t think twice. But then you get old and everything everybody told you starts to come true. You don’t want to die. Instead of a glowing report from your physical your doctor calls you with concerns, assuming you go to the doctor at all, you’d be surprised who doesn’t, especially men. But then they get the really bad news. The heart attack, the stroke… My doctor says if I do what he says I’ll never die of a heart attack, I’m counting on that. Then again, I go to see him every year. You should see yours too.

And untreated, my cholesterol is sky high. Past 350. I was cruising along just fine until my mid-forties and then my genetics kicked in and I denied it but then I started on the statins, I’m on Crestor now, I think it affects my memory, but when I went for this scan two years back the ultrasound tech said one neck artery was completely clear and then she let me listen in on the second one and she said “There goes some plaque!”, it’s funny, you think you’re invulnerable and then you find out you’re not, no one here gets out alive.

And it’s been a particularly gruesome December. A good friend of mine in London had a heart attack, and he’s in his forties. I got e-mail from a friend in L.A. whose wife is struggling with cancer, with little energy after a bone marrow transplant, and he had a stroke. And then not even a month later he was rushed back to the hospital to find out he was lucky to just have a seizure. And another friend had two knees replaced as a result of an old football injury and that begs the question whether we should play football at all, the injuries catch up with you, as does the smoking and so much else you did to rebel way back when only to find out today that no one is paying attention, no one cares.

So yesterday we went for BBQ. That’s my go-to place in Vail. There’s a smokehouse at the top of the mountain. I’ve decided the brisket is the best thing on the menu and it satisfied.

But today Felice wanted to go to the waffle house.

Now they used to serve burgers there too. But no longer. I told myself I’d get chicken and waffles, like at Roscoe’s, and throw away the carbs.

I didn’t do this.

The chicken came with gravy, including sausage. We didn’t have this white sauce growing up in the northeast, nor did we have chicken fried steak, but once you venture from your domicile you find out everybody’s different, yet the same. It’s a conundrum. We’re united, but divided. We share so much, yet diverge.

And I was stunned that the chicken hit the spot.

And then I was confronted with the waffles.

They did not skimp. The waffles themselves were tiny, but there were three or four of them, more than any rational person would partake of. And since they were included, I had them loaded up. With chocolate sauce, maple syrup and peanut butter, and whipped cream, of course.

And I was just tasting when…

Bruce Cockburn’s “Last Night Of The World” started playing in my head.

Funny thing about music. It rides shotgun. Used to be we all had the same tunes in our head, we couldn’t drive up PCH without humming “Boys Of Summer,” but these days despite there being a chart what runs through our brains is oftentimes so different.

I’m sipping Flor De Cana and lime juice, it’s three a.m.

I’ve lived that life. In search of greatness. If it had alcohol in it, I’d consume it, have a few and start to rage.

Blow a fruit fly off the rim of my glass

I prefer the dirty places. The exotic places. A bit askew. Where no one told the bugs they could not cohabitate.

The radio’s playing Superchunk and the Friends of Dean Martinez

Back when those were outsider bands, before just about everything became an outsider band.

I’ve seen the flame of hope among the hopeless

That’s the story of today’s America, that’s why Trump got elected, because there’s no hope, primarily for the youth, burdened by college debt, and if they didn’t go to college at all, good luck. The youth led the sixties rebellion, they led the nineties/twenty first century tech rebellion, and now we’ve stolen their future, what are you gonna do?

When I grew up the rich were bluebloods. People who inherited their wealth yet wore chinos and Topsiders, drove old Fords and didn’t spend. Today the money is made and the people believe they’re entitled to it. After all, they killed themselves to get into Harvard, got good grades to work all night at the bank and if anybody’s gonna question their bona fides they’re gonna get an earful.

That was the straw that broke me open

The election of Donald Trump. I could have handled it if the press hadn’t called it so wrong, for eighteen months straight. Forget fake news, who you gonna believe in anymore? The elites keep trumpeting the power and veritas of the “New York Times” and I read it cover to cover but I no longer respect it the same way, because I feel it’s become unmoored, it’s unconscious of the true America, whether it be reviewing records no one cares about or being oblivious to the plight of the disadvantaged.

And the right wing bugs me, because of the attitude. Which is an in-your-face bullying, with no ground given, Fox News is a scorched-earth operation based on no reporting.

And both the left and right laud Megyn Kelly as if she were Stephen Hawking. You’re pretty and you read the news, SO WHAT?

If this were the last night of the world

Let’s hope it’s not. But it is the last night of a very bad year. Classic rock fell off a cliff, its proponents passed and eighties heroes bit the dust too.

Our nation can no longer agree on the facts, never mind what to do about them.

What would I do that was different

I decided to eat the waffles.

And I’d like to tell you they were bad. But they were strangely satisfying. Sweet and crunchy, I couldn’t stop. And I was pissed-off at myself for breaking my no-carb streak, knowing that once I fall off the wagon I have a hard time getting back on, and knowing that tomorrow when I wake up I’ll feel like crap, but for one moment, for the better part of ten minutes, in a year full of b.s., I felt good.

If this were the last night of the world
What would I do
What would I do that was different
Unless it was champagne with you

We are in this together. Some of you agree with me, some of you don’t. Some say this isn’t what you came for but everybody’s in the same situation, everybody’s got more questions than answers, if someone’s sure know that they’re a bloviating idiot. And we’ve been shocked by a world that lets us connect but leaves us without a job, noticing that our future’s been sold out.

Yet a good conversation, a few waffles, they’re enough to get us through.

So tomorrow it’ll be a brand new year. The slate will be wiped clean. We will start all over.

Educate yourself. Have an opinion. Fight for the outcome of your desire and know…

I’m no better than you, and you’re no better than me.

And the power of the individual cannot be overstated, one person can make a difference.

But it’s the little things that get us through.

 

Me eating waffles: pic.twitter.com/8UPmFQXKo6

— Bob Lefsetz (@Lefsetz) January 1, 2017

 

The thing about life is it can always get worse.

We like to believe God doesn’t give us more than we can handle, but do we even believe in God?

We believe there’s a master plan, that it all makes sense…

But it doesn’t.

This is what they don’t tell you growing up, after they say that anyone can become President. That life is an endless series of losses and the key is to keep putting one foot in front of another. Not so much to be optimistic, because bad stuff is gonna happen, but to try and jump from rock to rock, because although you might slip into the river and get wet every once in a while, even float downriver to a wholly different, unforeseen rock, even though some might never find another rock at all, they were right there next to you laughing and now they’re gone, when you do get to the next rock not only do you breathe a sigh of relief, you gain a sense of wonderment, you’ve got a whole new perspective.

And that’s what makes life worth living.

First of all, there’s touch. And sex. After all, we’re animals. Try and hug someone every day, not in a perfunctory way, but in a style more conscious, like life is hard but at least you have each other. My parents never touched me growing up, could be a fifties thing, I don’t know, and I struggle with flesh on flesh, but I do know when done right touch roots me, and you.

Second, there’s art. And let’s put nature in that same category. I was out in a miserable snowstorm the other day and I never felt so alive. Like it was just me, the trees and the sky. It’s when you’re most alone that you feel most at peace, assuming you can forgo the anxiety of being disconnected forever.

And in art there’s books and movies and music and painting and sculpture and when they’re done right, they make us feel so not alone, they reflect our humanity back upon us. And it’s hard to do this. Not only in terms of skill, but to let go of precepts and create via your inner tuning fork, what we feel inside. Too much of what is called “art” today is pandering pabulum. And we know the difference. It’s like “Pulp Fiction” versus the latest “Star Wars.” As in how did Tarantino come up with that? Kinda like “Sgt. Pepper”… What were they smoking, where were they at that the Beatles decided to cut a concept album with no singles. Can you imagine that today? Katy Perry or Taylor Swift? I’m gonna drop an album with no anchors, with no obvious radio tracks, because I believe it will resonate with my audience. Won’t be done. And when you fall down the rabbit hole of your favorite book… Mine this year was “The Nix,” which was heavily hyped but got on no best lists I’ve seen. Yet, from the protagonist playing World of Warcraft to navigating a world of protest and family…I not only went along for the ride, it illuminated part of my own life, woke up memories of the sixties, and proved that alienation is universal, so often I feel so alone but when I reveal what I feel others resonate. And speaking of being alone and resonating, my favorite album of the year was Emitt Rhodes’s “Rainbow Ends.” While all his contemporaries are getting plastic surgery to look younger than their audience, while studio trickery makes them sound like they’re twenty five, Mr. Rhodes appeared warts and all telling his truth, looking every bit his age, overweight with a somewhat ruined voice. If that’s not a beacon for truth…try listening to the lyrics, which reflect adult concepts, is anybody in the arts willing to be an adult? And to hear melodic changes in a world of beats is a revelation.

Third, there’s children. I ain’t got none, but their sense of amazement always tickles me. I don’t envy the youth, I was young once and I hated it, you recover from injuries so much faster but you’ve got no clue as to what is going on, you’re constantly going down blind alleys. But when I see a kid experience something for the first time, it makes me smile more than them.

Fourth… You never know how it’s going to turn out. Kinda like Trump getting elected. Everybody missed it. You want to live to see what happens. And it’s all not bad, but it’s all not good. But experiencing it is a thrill. And, if you can, get involved, because there’s great satisfaction in midwifing an event, being part of a team.

Yes, you see, there’s plenty to live for.

Meanwhile, you’re gonna get cancer. Or be in a car accident. So much bad stuff is gonna happen it might overwhelm you. Do you drive with a football helmet on? Do you refuse to navigate in bad weather? You can try and beat the odds, but chances are you’re gonna slip in the bathroom and break something. And never forget most car accidents happen close to home, where you drive most, so wear your seatbelt. I know, I know, we live in the land of the free. But please make an effort to preserve your health. Please stop smoking. Please eat sugar in moderation. Then again, the corporate industrial complex is doing its best to kill us. Whether it be the corn growers or Purdue Pharma with OxyContin…

The truth is all of us are going to die.

But believe me, you’d rather it be later than sooner.

I don’t know what happened with Princess Leia. She had a long history of drug abuse. Was she high on the plane, mixing too much stuff? Or was her time just up. It happens. But dead is dead, and she’s gone now, and leaves a daughter, siblings and…

Her mother.

She just couldn’t take it.

Of course that might not be true. I’m not a doctor, and the stunning thing is how little medical doctors do know (although more than you scoring at home, believing western medicine is crap, believing every alternative fairytale that comes down the pike, believe me, you’ll want to go to the hospital when you have a heart attack, but I get it, you feel powerless in today’s society and you want to believe you have control over something so… But please don’t be one of those selfish non-vaccinators. Because they put the rest of us at risk. And now I’ve managed to piss at least some of you off. But that’s life, it’s astounding we get along at all. We’re each uniquely different, with our own opinions. Feel free to express yours. But don’t force me to agree. And vice versa. Dismiss anything I have to say, it’s okay with me, I’m thrilled that you’re reading this at all.)

So, her daughter dies before her and…

That’s something you don’t want to have happen. You don’t want to outlive your children.

And Debbie Reynolds has a stroke and dies. Causing more heartache amongst her descendants.

Like I said. Life sucks.

But the comedians have it right. When bad things happen, even death, you’ve got to crack jokes. You’ve got to laugh at the human condition. You’ve got to keep your attitude, your mood, from bottoming out. Because you want to be here when it gets better.

2016 has been a horrible year. Too many of our heroes have died.

And we’re next, sorry to say. It’s coming sooner than you think. So while you’re still here…

Know that despite never getting rich, never marrying a famous actor, never winning the Nobel Prize, chances are you’re just as happy as those who did, maybe even more so. Money eases one’s pathway in life, especially compared to not having enough. But the world runs on people. Conversation. Intimacy. Touch.

So, I’m with you on this. Too much death. The holidays are supposed to be upbeat, but it’s been an endless downer.

And who knows what January 20th will bring.

But you’ve got a front row seat for the greatest movie ever made. It’s called life. And it’s participatory. And when you play, you risk losing. But to be in the game…

It’s kind of like baseball. The best are out two-thirds of the time.

But when you hit it over the fence, when you score the winning run…

It’s the greatest feeling in the world.

1. Play the long game.

If you need to succeed immediately, if you can’t live in flux, if you can’t handle anxiety, you’re not going to achieve your goals. First, of course, you must have a goal. But then you must stick to it. Keep it in your vision. Revisit it at night, while you’re lying in bed. Stay focused. Eyes on the prize.

But that does not mean you can be lax along the way. The Republicans had a decades-long plan to take over the judiciary system, called the Federalist Society, no one even knew what it was for most of its existence, never mind be concerned with it. Peter Thiel was pissed at Gawker and took years to execute his plan of destruction. I’m not saying you can’t forgive, that you can’t forget, but if you want something badly enough, chances are you want it more than your opponent, and when you stay the course, line up your ducks, you can topple your enemy when they least expect it, when their defenses are down, when they’ve got no other options.

2. You’re in control of your own behavior.

You get to decide how much intensity you want to employ. He who just runs on instinct loses in the end. Sometimes it pays to raise your voice, sometimes it pays to be nice and civil. Experiment, learn what works, then you can employ the ammunition in your arsenal to the greatest effect.

3. Intimidation can work.

Some people are wimps. If you stand up to them, they’ll fold. If you’re barking all the time, always mouthing off at 10, you’re gonna be labeled a hothead and be ignored, funny how one’s reputation spreads. But if you’ve got a silver bullet, wherein you get on your high horse and employ a scorched-earth policy, you’ll be stunned how effective it can be. Especially after you’ve played nice.

4. Don’t be afraid to get intense and raise your voice.

People sense weakness. If you’re not willing to hang it all out, you won’t win in the end.

5. Lull your suspect into thinking nothing’s wrong.

This is one of the most effective games to play. Along the lines of keeping your enemies even closer than your friends. When people let their guard down they reveal weaknesses that can be used against them.

6. Or keep him on high alert.

You can push someone over the edge with anxiety, with paranoia, if they think you’re out to get them, oftentimes you don’t have to do anything at all and they’ll blow themselves up, they’ll fold.

7. Vary pressure.

The mark of an amateur is someone who has to win all the time, who only has one note and plays it again and again and again. Most of the greatest business people can be extremely charming. They can have a good time. They can be the straw that stirs the drink. But never forget this is business and you’re not their friend. As you move up the power totem pole the players have fewer and fewer confidantes. They’re playing so many games that the only people they can confide in and trust are their spouse and a trusted lieutenant or two, and like in a crime novel, they know all about attorney/client privilege and how and when to utilize it.

8. Know how to lose.

He who wins all the time is a target. You can’t survive if everybody gangs up on you. So be willing to concede now and again, especially on the small stuff.

9. Don’t ask for too much.

Your goals must be realistic. He who wants the sun and the moon will find they get a reputation and others will try and take them down for sport.

10. Be a student of the game.

We’re all just people. And we’re the most fascinating thing on this planet. People are vain and insecure, they need to tell secrets. Just ask questions, it’s amazing what people will tell you (which you may be able to use against them at a later date). Analyze the weaknesses of your opponents. Sure, this can pertain to their business, but more often it pertains to their personality. Life is high school. We’re all in it together. The cheerleaders get fat and the football captain ends up a grease monkey. No one forgets where you came from and no one forgets who you are. Shine too brightly and you’ll incite contempt, which is why winners are always self-deprecating. Be solid and have allies. You’ll be surprised how many people will aid you in your quest by virtue of their antagonism towards your opponent. Chances are what bugs you in a person bugs someone else too. Unless you’re the defective one, the person who is propping up their image with no self-knowledge whatsoever. Then you’re the mark, then you’re ready to be brought down.

CONCLUSION

You can work for the man or you can be the man. It’s your choice. And in today’s world, it can be a woman or a man. I’ll argue females can play the game even better than males. Their culture is different, it’s about being a member of the group, whereas men are always fighting for their place in the pecking order. A man has a hard time quashing his feelings, a woman can hide her feelings in furtherance of her goal. Men are just putty in women’s hands. Women can be nice and then…

Not that winning is only about business. The key is if you’re pissed, if you’re angry, if you desire a certain conclusion, there’s a good chance you can achieve it, just as long as you don’t go home and lie in bed and cry woe is me and instead get down to strategizing.

This is not about formal education. And sure, business yields experience, as does an MBA, but not as much as living your life every day. You are extremely powerful, if you just play the game, if you stay the course.

And the game never changes. So as you get older, you become wiser, you can achieve more. The young might have their youth, but you’ve got the smarts.

If you’re determined to employ them.