I recently commented on the documentary Cool It, based on the book of the same name, written by Bjorn Lomborg. Few readers are likely to be familiar with the man, though he has been described as one of the 50 most influential people in the world. I thought I might read the book as well.
Lomborg's basic working premise is, that our fears of a global catastrophe, due to the rate as which we burn fossil fuels, i.e. climate change, is scientifically unfounded; and, that our attempts to limit CO2 emissions through Kyoto and Kyoto-like protocols are absurdly expensive, futile and misguided. He believes a fraction of that money could otherwise be used to address clean drinking water, healthy food, good housing, basic education and basic health care for all the world's people, with far more effective results.
For this he has been compared to Hitler. Some have called for Nuremberg-like tribunals for climate change deniers. His suggestion that climate catastrophe is not imminent or even likely has been compared to holocaust denial.
You can be sure, when a perspective has become so ingrained and orthodox that there are threats of violence against those who question it, it has lost its way.
That said, there are serious problems with Lomborg's outlook. First and foremost, he thinks like an economist. Most economists look at the world from a defunct Newtonian/Cartesian perspective, which is to say, he thinks of the Earth, the Universe, the great Market and humanity as if it were all a perfectly ordered, perfectly mechanical, perfectly predictable machine - a common delusion which is often exacerbated by an infatuation with technological progress.
The weakness of this attitude is on display in the one and only tangible option Lomborg offers to deal with rising temperatures: paint the cities white. His economist mind says, great! White reflects sunlight. The city will be less hot. Never mind the poverty of the imagination soon engendered, among the people in such a perfectly white city, or the damaged eyesight. Nor, that such a scheme would do nothing to reduce temperatures across the globe. His economist mind cannot conceive of, say, gardens on roofs, as a more attractive, more ecologically sound option.
The Earth nor the Market are machines, perfectly ordered. If that were the case, weather would be predictable. Bankers would not implode economies. There would be no housing bubbles. People are not machines. Contrary to the orthodoxy of economists, we rarely act - especially these days - in our truest best interest.
Secondly, his reliance on data leads him into the same trap that befalls most climate change models, which is, no model can come close to approximating a dynamic Earth in relationship with the Sun. He makes decisive statements meant to sound irrefutable, about what the temperature will be in the year 2100, when the fact is, no one knows what will happen if we burn most of the Earth's fossil fuel, which took a few hundred million years to create, in two centuries. The most we can know for certain, based on the rate at which we are killing the Earth and each other, it can't be good. Add in the uncertainty of solar output, and the reality that the Earth is perfectly capable of cooling itself, radically, in a period of a few years, it begins to seem like a very foolish path indeed.
Lomborg's data has the effect of making it seem there is no threat at all.
Which leads to the third flaw in Lomborg's perspective and his book, and that of most economists and books on economics, that he assumes fossil fuels are infinite. As if we will be using the same amount of fossil fuels, adjusted for economic growth, etc, in the year 2410 as we are using now. The Earth is going to reduce the rate at which we emit CO2 a lot more dramatically than any reduction scheme agreed to by Governments, in considerably less time, by the simple reality that demand will soon exceed supply, and that supply is declining.
The fear some have of Lomborg, is that his work will be an excuse for Governments to do effectively nothing about climate change. Governments are not likely to do anything about climate change, anyway. I agree with him, climate change policy as prescribed by Kyoto et al is fundamentally flawed. Not because it is "expensive", but because such policies do not really address the issue of consumption, or rather, the right of a few people to consume massive amounts of fossil fuels while an estimated 1.5 billion people live without access to any fossil fuels at all. Such protocols will not reduce the rate at which we are consuming fossil fuels, they would at best redistribute them, not to all people but among the richest countries, more evenly.
There is not any point in "fixing" climate change if there are a few more billion people without access to fresh water, clean housing, good food and basic education and health care, after you've "fixed" it. Which goes directly to the dirty little secret of the "developed", 'that the world's poor are poor because they choose to be, so they aren't really deserving of these things and if they had them, they would just make more babies, as mindlessly as they do now.'
This of course is uncharitable and mean, when we have the money and the technology to make it happen, and we have ample evidence that the more wealthy a people are, the less babies they have. True wealth being good water, food, housing, education, health care and companionship. Which leads to another dark secret of the West, and increasingly the East, that it is far easier to control and extract the resources of a nation that is poor, than the resources of a nation whose people are wealthy. The resources the most powerful nations require, to feed an ever greater affluence for a comparatively small number of people.
So really, Lomborg isn't totally wrong. His mind is simply suffering from an economic newtonian cartesianism (which may prove to be a more difficult thing to dispel than poverty.) And he's right, that we could be devoting ourselves to providing wealth for all. We would be a better people for it. The Earth would be healthier. To do that though, were going to have to dispel the notion that either the Market or Governments will do it for us. And we are going to have to address our own notions about wealth, here in America, which are peculiarly povertous.
I'll do what I can to help with that in the next several posts.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Thursday, December 9, 2010
A Few Thoughts on Revolutions
Julian Assange is incarcerated, by the English. Visa, Mastercard and Pay Pal have prevented us from donating to WikiLeaks. He is not really in jail because of the release of diplomatic cables, but for the sexual misconduct charges in Sweden. It is possible that Mr Assange has been corrupted by power, the power to influence Governments, knowing that both Governments and Corporations are afraid of him; he may have abused that power and hurt women. It is also very convenient, these charges. They don't have to be true. It is not about the truth necessarily. If it happens that three years from now he is exonerated, will justice be served?
Visa, Mastercard and Pay Pal don't give a damn about leaked American Diplomatic cables. No less than the Secretary of Defense Robert Gates doesn't think it's a problem. Many are saying it might be beneficial, showing us that American Diplomats are human, clear eyed and resolute. The attack on Julian Assange is not about diplomatic cables, it is about sensitive Bank of America documents, etc. I have written before about Bank of America's purchase of Merryl Lynch, how Bank of America defrauded America of 30 Billion, how the SEC fined BofA 125 million for this transgression. What will those documents say about that? What will they say about the Federal Reserve bailout? How many banks and corporations received a portion of the trillions of dollars that did not exist, money "conjured" out of the ether, and what do these institutions and the sky gods who control them really think about that?
Clearly, they do not want us to know. Hackers, unite. Bedevil them. Whistle blowers, take courage. America was betrayed and the truth must come out. This is a peaceful revolution - transparency and accountability are the objective; our purpose is to save the Republic from those sky gods who would destroy it.
****
I was listening to a program on public radio this morning, about the climate change summit in Cancun and the proposed green economy. What is striking to me about the American attitude is, there is an increasing awareness that a change is coming. I hear more and more talk about a green economy. The trouble is, the discussion invariable stands on an assumption that the end of fossil fuels will be nothing more than a blip in the progress of our great Nation. We tend to assume that whatever happens, our standard of living will not fundamentally change.
Make no mistake, the end of fossil fuels is nothing short of a fundamental, broad scale restructuring of the entire culture, of everything we have come to assume as the normal way of things. Take my home State as an example. We have perhaps a million houses in Minnesota, 99% of which were built according to a fossil fuel paradigm. If you do not heat those houses with natural gas, which is generally the case, you must use heating oil, wood or coal. If you don't have access to natural gas, you probably don't have access to heating oil. If we try to heat those homes with wood we will deforest the state in a few years. We could heat those houses with coal, but that will reduce the average lifespan, and radically ratchet-up climate change.
Then there is electricity generated by Nuclear. To heat homes for 300 million Americans? A devil's bargain.
We could rebuild those houses to take advantage of solar energy, and cut our fossil fuel inputs by half or greater. But where the Market is god, that is not going to happen. Our standard of living prevents it. It would cost too much.
That standard of living, by the way, is the most resource intensive standard of living of any culture in the story of the species, by a long shot - as if we can forever and always consume 35% of the worlds resources. Our economy is 70% consumer spending, which is by definition antithetical to the health of the Earth.
Is there a way out of this mess? It entirely depends on whether or not we remember why this Nation was created, whether or not we can restore in ourselves a reverence for the Earth, and a reverence for Life, and whether or not we can accept a less affluent standard of living with dignity and grace.
****
There was an officer of the law at my front door yesterday. For all the talk about the ugly reputation of the Minneapolis Police Department, I have yet to meet an officer I didn't like. This officer was at my door to inform me that someone had broken into my next-door neighbor's house. Whoever it was, they kicked in the back door at five in the afternoon. Brazen. There have been several burglaries in my neighborhood, which is not what you would consider a high-crime neighborhood. I probably should have run down that white dude who tried to steal my garden tools, last Fall.
I expect more of that. The richest country in the story of the species, under the sway of the Market inspired ethic of Every Man for Himself. What is happening to the Republic? Wealth is increasingly aggregated at the peak of the social hierarchy, which is to say, the richest are getting a whole lot richer. The way in which these men (mostly) sustain and increase their wealth does not necessarily entail the creation of jobs. They generate their wealth through opaque financial schemes that depend on individual and institutional debt. In 2008, there was a recession. In 2009, there were 58 new billionaires in America. In some ways, the more indebted the Republic becomes, the richer these men become.
"Republicans" genuflecting at their feet. Obama caving in. He is no strategist. He could have forced the "Republican" party to choose between protecting the middle class and these sky gods whose self-interest supersedes the health of the Republic. But then, self-interest superseding the health of the Earth and the health of the Republic is the American Way, these days. "Republicans" are saying we are all in this together. We are all Americans. Don't believe it. When you start hearing sky gods demanding to pay more in taxes, with the requirement that government spending is cut across the spectrum, so we can reduce the debt, then you can believe it. Expect it. Demand it. Americans.
I make a point of thanking every officer I meet for their service. But service is not a thing reserved for officers of the law, or the military. Service is a thing we all can aspire to. The health of a Republic depends upon it. The health of the Earth depends upon it. It will be fundamental to the viability of the species, in the face of increasing resource and energy constraints, if we hope not to destroy ourselves in the transition to a so-called "green" economy, which is to say, to an economy that is healthier for the Earth and for people.
We are in the midst of a revolution, whether we want to admit that or not. It doesn't have to be a violent one. It shouldn't be. But it will be, if we fight to maintain a standard of living that is so energy and resource intensive. If we choose that path, there will be no limit to the pain.
Visa, Mastercard and Pay Pal don't give a damn about leaked American Diplomatic cables. No less than the Secretary of Defense Robert Gates doesn't think it's a problem. Many are saying it might be beneficial, showing us that American Diplomats are human, clear eyed and resolute. The attack on Julian Assange is not about diplomatic cables, it is about sensitive Bank of America documents, etc. I have written before about Bank of America's purchase of Merryl Lynch, how Bank of America defrauded America of 30 Billion, how the SEC fined BofA 125 million for this transgression. What will those documents say about that? What will they say about the Federal Reserve bailout? How many banks and corporations received a portion of the trillions of dollars that did not exist, money "conjured" out of the ether, and what do these institutions and the sky gods who control them really think about that?
Clearly, they do not want us to know. Hackers, unite. Bedevil them. Whistle blowers, take courage. America was betrayed and the truth must come out. This is a peaceful revolution - transparency and accountability are the objective; our purpose is to save the Republic from those sky gods who would destroy it.
****
I was listening to a program on public radio this morning, about the climate change summit in Cancun and the proposed green economy. What is striking to me about the American attitude is, there is an increasing awareness that a change is coming. I hear more and more talk about a green economy. The trouble is, the discussion invariable stands on an assumption that the end of fossil fuels will be nothing more than a blip in the progress of our great Nation. We tend to assume that whatever happens, our standard of living will not fundamentally change.
Make no mistake, the end of fossil fuels is nothing short of a fundamental, broad scale restructuring of the entire culture, of everything we have come to assume as the normal way of things. Take my home State as an example. We have perhaps a million houses in Minnesota, 99% of which were built according to a fossil fuel paradigm. If you do not heat those houses with natural gas, which is generally the case, you must use heating oil, wood or coal. If you don't have access to natural gas, you probably don't have access to heating oil. If we try to heat those homes with wood we will deforest the state in a few years. We could heat those houses with coal, but that will reduce the average lifespan, and radically ratchet-up climate change.
Then there is electricity generated by Nuclear. To heat homes for 300 million Americans? A devil's bargain.
We could rebuild those houses to take advantage of solar energy, and cut our fossil fuel inputs by half or greater. But where the Market is god, that is not going to happen. Our standard of living prevents it. It would cost too much.
That standard of living, by the way, is the most resource intensive standard of living of any culture in the story of the species, by a long shot - as if we can forever and always consume 35% of the worlds resources. Our economy is 70% consumer spending, which is by definition antithetical to the health of the Earth.
Is there a way out of this mess? It entirely depends on whether or not we remember why this Nation was created, whether or not we can restore in ourselves a reverence for the Earth, and a reverence for Life, and whether or not we can accept a less affluent standard of living with dignity and grace.
****
There was an officer of the law at my front door yesterday. For all the talk about the ugly reputation of the Minneapolis Police Department, I have yet to meet an officer I didn't like. This officer was at my door to inform me that someone had broken into my next-door neighbor's house. Whoever it was, they kicked in the back door at five in the afternoon. Brazen. There have been several burglaries in my neighborhood, which is not what you would consider a high-crime neighborhood. I probably should have run down that white dude who tried to steal my garden tools, last Fall.
I expect more of that. The richest country in the story of the species, under the sway of the Market inspired ethic of Every Man for Himself. What is happening to the Republic? Wealth is increasingly aggregated at the peak of the social hierarchy, which is to say, the richest are getting a whole lot richer. The way in which these men (mostly) sustain and increase their wealth does not necessarily entail the creation of jobs. They generate their wealth through opaque financial schemes that depend on individual and institutional debt. In 2008, there was a recession. In 2009, there were 58 new billionaires in America. In some ways, the more indebted the Republic becomes, the richer these men become.
"Republicans" genuflecting at their feet. Obama caving in. He is no strategist. He could have forced the "Republican" party to choose between protecting the middle class and these sky gods whose self-interest supersedes the health of the Republic. But then, self-interest superseding the health of the Earth and the health of the Republic is the American Way, these days. "Republicans" are saying we are all in this together. We are all Americans. Don't believe it. When you start hearing sky gods demanding to pay more in taxes, with the requirement that government spending is cut across the spectrum, so we can reduce the debt, then you can believe it. Expect it. Demand it. Americans.
I make a point of thanking every officer I meet for their service. But service is not a thing reserved for officers of the law, or the military. Service is a thing we all can aspire to. The health of a Republic depends upon it. The health of the Earth depends upon it. It will be fundamental to the viability of the species, in the face of increasing resource and energy constraints, if we hope not to destroy ourselves in the transition to a so-called "green" economy, which is to say, to an economy that is healthier for the Earth and for people.
We are in the midst of a revolution, whether we want to admit that or not. It doesn't have to be a violent one. It shouldn't be. But it will be, if we fight to maintain a standard of living that is so energy and resource intensive. If we choose that path, there will be no limit to the pain.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Golden Shoes
I returned to Monster Halloween and the old Hollywood Video building one last time (maybe), to hang a sign for the building's owners, and to meet with Stephan, a sixty year old black man who owns a business on the North Side. He wanted our front desk, the former Hollywood Video front desk. We weren't required to move it, but he wanted it, so I agreed to a meeting.
The desk is a colossal thing, pressed laminate, designed not to be taken apart without destroying it. Which meant a considerable amount of unnecessary strain in moving it. (What gives a man the right to design such a thing? The Market, of course.) Stephan showed up with an SUV, which meant three trips to his North Side shop. I thought to go with him the first trip, but I didn't. Instead, I stayed in the cold and empty building and thought about the move The Road, based on the Cormac McCarthy book, dancing around the open floor, working with a broomstick, thinking about Great Difficulties and how such times exaggerate the qualities of men, good and bad.
I wasn't in a very good mood by the time Stephan returned 90 minutes later. A friend had borrowed me her car, which I told her I would return at 5:00. It was almost six, and there were two more loads.
He offered to return another day, but I wasn't interested in that. I decided to help him unload, so I hopped in the SUV and we were off to the North Side.
Stephan is a good looking man, with a neatly trimmed white beard and a former body builders body. He has an equally beautiful wife, a blessed spirit who preaches the Word, and teaches leadership to prospective nursing assistants. Stephan is often heard saying, "Praise Jesus", "Praise the Lord." It is less proselytizing, more like an incantation to ward off evil spirits. His wife, being the gentle, trusting spirit she is, is often taken advantage of. Stephan is a former hustler, who knows one when he sees one. Half her congregation disappeared when he showed up.
We got to talking about the black community. He has two kids, good people with abundant talents but insatiable desires; nothing is ever enough. He sees it all the time at his wife's classes, at her church. People wanting without the capacity to give. "Never any money, always a story about this or that. Me, I'm grateful for everything I get. They ain't grateful for nothin'. Always trying to take advantage. I see it, I call it out. But I'm the bad guy. I don't mean to hurt anybody, I just call it what it is. Jesus says turn the other cheek, but he didn't mean let people do you like that. He didn't mean you just let yourself be taken advantage of." He is his wife's protector. And a good one, I think.
He counters. "I hear all this talk like the North Side's such a bad place," he says, laughing. "Let me tell you, the North Side ain't nothin' like a lot of cities I been to. All this talk too, like they know what's best, like they're gonna fix the place." He laughs again. "It's the same stuff I been hearin' since the fifties. The same stuff and not much of anything ever gets done."
"And it's not ever going to get done, either," I reply. "The only thing that can heal the black community is the black community."
"That's right, he says,"You go around with darkness in your heart, takin' advantage of people and expecting to have whatever you want whenever you want it, ain't nothin' gonna change for the better. People acting like they can do whatever they want, without any regard for their fellow man.
"The White Man," he laughs. "Everybody complainin' about the White Man. White Man, nothin'. We're all people. We're all human. White folk ain't got it any better than black. Were all servin' the Man. We're all hurtin'. White people are sufferin' too."
He robbed a bank when he was 24, spent some time in Lewiston, bounced around various hard-ass Federal facilities. "I was a stupid kid, didn't know what I was doing or what it meant. Never knew my dad and my mom died when I was 21, didn't really know her either.
"You want to keep people out of jail. Tell you what, it costs $70,000-$100,000 every year to keep a man incarcerated. Give a brother a job and $70,000 a year and I guarantee a lot of brothers are gonna think twice about gettin' into trouble."
"But that's not the point," I tell him. "Like my good friend Snake says, If you have a choice between building a hotel that's half full most of the year, or a jail that's full all year, every year, year after year, what are you going to build?" Stephan's an old hustler. He laughed long and deep about that one.
"Right, he says, thinking. "Prison guards, food vendors, clothing vendors, linens..."
"What do you think drugs are illegal for, anyway?" I say. "A very lucrative business, keepin' people in a cage. Your investors and vendors aren't going to be happy if the jail isn't full."
He asked if I was a Christian. I said no. "Well, what are you then?" I told him a story about giving my life up in service to the Goddess; that I didn't know what it would mean but my life changed irrevocably for the better after that. That every day I repeat "My Goddess, my Goddess, my Goddess, my name is William Hunter Duncan, and I am in service to you." I had been pondering what he might think. "That's a beautiful testimony," he said. "That helps me, hearing you say that. That's a blessing for me.
"Whatever you call it, it's the same thing." This is a Christian I can relate to, I thought.
At his shop after the final load he kept telling me what a blessing this was, "the opportunity of a lifetime," he called it. He wanted to give me more money than the $53 he paid for the desk, but I wouldn't take it. He sells shoes. "What size do you wear?" He dug through a box and gifted me with a glittering (literally) pair of bronze and gold Nike's. "What the hell am I going to do with these?" I said. "Wear them, of course," he replied.
It didn't occur to me until later, the significance. I've been very ugly to myself lately. I haven't felt very worthy. I'm thinking of the bronze statue of Nike in our Shrine to the Goddess, at Monster Halloween. As for the corporation, I can take it or leave it. I generally don't advertise. As for the Goddess, I am very thankful. It is an honor to serve.
I've been very dark lately. Yet somehow, I am blessed. The meeting with Stephan; a job offer the first morning I felt free of Monster Halloween; and my childhood playmate has mysteriously appeared, living not much further away than we were growing up, which is to say, within easy biking distance. She is the peace pirate Miss Chiff. She has hair like a magical woodland sprite and a big Newfoundland/Labrador/Shepherd named after a king. I'm not sure where the name Miss Chiff comes from, but I'm curious to find out.
Thank you, Stephan. Blessings. We are brothers, indeed.
The desk is a colossal thing, pressed laminate, designed not to be taken apart without destroying it. Which meant a considerable amount of unnecessary strain in moving it. (What gives a man the right to design such a thing? The Market, of course.) Stephan showed up with an SUV, which meant three trips to his North Side shop. I thought to go with him the first trip, but I didn't. Instead, I stayed in the cold and empty building and thought about the move The Road, based on the Cormac McCarthy book, dancing around the open floor, working with a broomstick, thinking about Great Difficulties and how such times exaggerate the qualities of men, good and bad.
I wasn't in a very good mood by the time Stephan returned 90 minutes later. A friend had borrowed me her car, which I told her I would return at 5:00. It was almost six, and there were two more loads.
He offered to return another day, but I wasn't interested in that. I decided to help him unload, so I hopped in the SUV and we were off to the North Side.
Stephan is a good looking man, with a neatly trimmed white beard and a former body builders body. He has an equally beautiful wife, a blessed spirit who preaches the Word, and teaches leadership to prospective nursing assistants. Stephan is often heard saying, "Praise Jesus", "Praise the Lord." It is less proselytizing, more like an incantation to ward off evil spirits. His wife, being the gentle, trusting spirit she is, is often taken advantage of. Stephan is a former hustler, who knows one when he sees one. Half her congregation disappeared when he showed up.
We got to talking about the black community. He has two kids, good people with abundant talents but insatiable desires; nothing is ever enough. He sees it all the time at his wife's classes, at her church. People wanting without the capacity to give. "Never any money, always a story about this or that. Me, I'm grateful for everything I get. They ain't grateful for nothin'. Always trying to take advantage. I see it, I call it out. But I'm the bad guy. I don't mean to hurt anybody, I just call it what it is. Jesus says turn the other cheek, but he didn't mean let people do you like that. He didn't mean you just let yourself be taken advantage of." He is his wife's protector. And a good one, I think.
He counters. "I hear all this talk like the North Side's such a bad place," he says, laughing. "Let me tell you, the North Side ain't nothin' like a lot of cities I been to. All this talk too, like they know what's best, like they're gonna fix the place." He laughs again. "It's the same stuff I been hearin' since the fifties. The same stuff and not much of anything ever gets done."
"And it's not ever going to get done, either," I reply. "The only thing that can heal the black community is the black community."
"That's right, he says,"You go around with darkness in your heart, takin' advantage of people and expecting to have whatever you want whenever you want it, ain't nothin' gonna change for the better. People acting like they can do whatever they want, without any regard for their fellow man.
"The White Man," he laughs. "Everybody complainin' about the White Man. White Man, nothin'. We're all people. We're all human. White folk ain't got it any better than black. Were all servin' the Man. We're all hurtin'. White people are sufferin' too."
He robbed a bank when he was 24, spent some time in Lewiston, bounced around various hard-ass Federal facilities. "I was a stupid kid, didn't know what I was doing or what it meant. Never knew my dad and my mom died when I was 21, didn't really know her either.
"You want to keep people out of jail. Tell you what, it costs $70,000-$100,000 every year to keep a man incarcerated. Give a brother a job and $70,000 a year and I guarantee a lot of brothers are gonna think twice about gettin' into trouble."
"But that's not the point," I tell him. "Like my good friend Snake says, If you have a choice between building a hotel that's half full most of the year, or a jail that's full all year, every year, year after year, what are you going to build?" Stephan's an old hustler. He laughed long and deep about that one.
"Right, he says, thinking. "Prison guards, food vendors, clothing vendors, linens..."
"What do you think drugs are illegal for, anyway?" I say. "A very lucrative business, keepin' people in a cage. Your investors and vendors aren't going to be happy if the jail isn't full."
He asked if I was a Christian. I said no. "Well, what are you then?" I told him a story about giving my life up in service to the Goddess; that I didn't know what it would mean but my life changed irrevocably for the better after that. That every day I repeat "My Goddess, my Goddess, my Goddess, my name is William Hunter Duncan, and I am in service to you." I had been pondering what he might think. "That's a beautiful testimony," he said. "That helps me, hearing you say that. That's a blessing for me.
"Whatever you call it, it's the same thing." This is a Christian I can relate to, I thought.
At his shop after the final load he kept telling me what a blessing this was, "the opportunity of a lifetime," he called it. He wanted to give me more money than the $53 he paid for the desk, but I wouldn't take it. He sells shoes. "What size do you wear?" He dug through a box and gifted me with a glittering (literally) pair of bronze and gold Nike's. "What the hell am I going to do with these?" I said. "Wear them, of course," he replied.
It didn't occur to me until later, the significance. I've been very ugly to myself lately. I haven't felt very worthy. I'm thinking of the bronze statue of Nike in our Shrine to the Goddess, at Monster Halloween. As for the corporation, I can take it or leave it. I generally don't advertise. As for the Goddess, I am very thankful. It is an honor to serve.
I've been very dark lately. Yet somehow, I am blessed. The meeting with Stephan; a job offer the first morning I felt free of Monster Halloween; and my childhood playmate has mysteriously appeared, living not much further away than we were growing up, which is to say, within easy biking distance. She is the peace pirate Miss Chiff. She has hair like a magical woodland sprite and a big Newfoundland/Labrador/Shepherd named after a king. I'm not sure where the name Miss Chiff comes from, but I'm curious to find out.
Thank you, Stephan. Blessings. We are brothers, indeed.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Fire God
Biking through my neighborhood on a sunny morning. The sun feels good, though the air is very cold, about 10 degrees. I weave in and out the peaked shadows of houses, through shadowed webs of tree branches and telephone poles, contemplating mortality, the dragon, the fire god, and my species head long rush toward oblivion.
Any one man could bring down any one of the big banks from within, quite easily. Shut down all activity associated with the bank for days, maybe weeks, costing the economy tens, perhaps hundreds of billions of dollars. Of course, they would get the bank running again, and the hacker would spend the rest of his life in a cage while society debated the merits of his action, while the banks continued to centralize economic control. It would serve no purpose at all but statement. You aren't going to end the worship of the Market and the poisoning of the Earth by temporarily disabling a bank.
The sun, however, could wipe out banking worldwide, in a moment. We are heading into what is know as a solar maximum, the peak in the cyclical eleven year ebb and flow of sunspots. Sun spots are magnetic storms that periodically unleash Coronal Mass Ejections (CME), energetic solar wind which sometimes collides with the Earth. Our atmosphere generally channels this energy toward the poles, causing the northern lights, that energy then funneled into the Earth. Occasionally, the solar wind is so powerful it can disrupt communications, fry electrical stations, even knock satellites out of commission. We know the sun is capable of CME's that could wipe out satellites globally, even disable the electrical grid of whole continents. In the dark, in a moment, indefinitely.
It is also true the Earth has been hit by interstellar debris so large it initiated tectonic activity world-wide, dust and ash clouding the sky for years, causing mass specie extinction. The Earth alone is capable of such devastation - the Toba supervolcano eruption 75,000 years ago led to climate change so severe, some believe it was the near extinction of Homo sapien sapien. Yellowstone has that same potential.
The WikiLeaks dispersal of sensitive US diplomatic cables largely reveals that people act well, and people act badly, even among sky gods, and it is becoming increasingly difficult to navigate a political realm where increasing numbers of people are capable of initiating global, thermo-nuclear devastation. Thank you, Juilan Assange et al. I am so looking joyward to the release of sensitive Bank of America memos.
Sitting in my sun room, the sun on my face making vitamin D, my hair standing on end as I contemplate a nuclear Iran, with their Ayatollahs and their militant jihadist hatred of Israel and the West; Kim Jong-il and his prickly man/child successor son; rogue Islamist Talibanic nutjobs in the Pakistani military; end-times advocates in Israel. The world is increasingly volatile and the great global Market churns away blissfully oblivious to its affect, exacerbating the volatility - and I am so angry and so tired of being angry, the way we are courting this revenge of the fire god. The way we poison the Earth and ourselves and then wonder why the world is such a mess.
My friend Snake thinks we don't think enough about death. That's about right. If we think about death at all, we think about how to avoid it. Which may seem practical, but in fact it only exacerbates the probability of death on a grand, even epic scale. Seven billion Homo sapien sapien finding ever more creative ways to kill each other, in the name of staying alive, to take over the world. Or in the case of suicide bombers, giving up on the instinct to survive, entirely.
God and Goddess have nothing to do with it, except insofar as they are used, God in particular, to justify the use of violence, the act of destruction, the accumulation of vast resources and the power that is associated with such control.
Death? I am going to die. I have no desire to avoid it. But I can tell you, whether it be fire from the sky, fire from the sun, fire from the Earth, fire from Homo sapien sapien, I will endeavor to survive. I will help others survive. If I do not first destroy myself with my anger.
And why am I so angry? Because this Earth is a wonderful and blessed, beautiful garden, and my species is destroying it.
Any one man could bring down any one of the big banks from within, quite easily. Shut down all activity associated with the bank for days, maybe weeks, costing the economy tens, perhaps hundreds of billions of dollars. Of course, they would get the bank running again, and the hacker would spend the rest of his life in a cage while society debated the merits of his action, while the banks continued to centralize economic control. It would serve no purpose at all but statement. You aren't going to end the worship of the Market and the poisoning of the Earth by temporarily disabling a bank.
The sun, however, could wipe out banking worldwide, in a moment. We are heading into what is know as a solar maximum, the peak in the cyclical eleven year ebb and flow of sunspots. Sun spots are magnetic storms that periodically unleash Coronal Mass Ejections (CME), energetic solar wind which sometimes collides with the Earth. Our atmosphere generally channels this energy toward the poles, causing the northern lights, that energy then funneled into the Earth. Occasionally, the solar wind is so powerful it can disrupt communications, fry electrical stations, even knock satellites out of commission. We know the sun is capable of CME's that could wipe out satellites globally, even disable the electrical grid of whole continents. In the dark, in a moment, indefinitely.
It is also true the Earth has been hit by interstellar debris so large it initiated tectonic activity world-wide, dust and ash clouding the sky for years, causing mass specie extinction. The Earth alone is capable of such devastation - the Toba supervolcano eruption 75,000 years ago led to climate change so severe, some believe it was the near extinction of Homo sapien sapien. Yellowstone has that same potential.
The WikiLeaks dispersal of sensitive US diplomatic cables largely reveals that people act well, and people act badly, even among sky gods, and it is becoming increasingly difficult to navigate a political realm where increasing numbers of people are capable of initiating global, thermo-nuclear devastation. Thank you, Juilan Assange et al. I am so looking joyward to the release of sensitive Bank of America memos.
Sitting in my sun room, the sun on my face making vitamin D, my hair standing on end as I contemplate a nuclear Iran, with their Ayatollahs and their militant jihadist hatred of Israel and the West; Kim Jong-il and his prickly man/child successor son; rogue Islamist Talibanic nutjobs in the Pakistani military; end-times advocates in Israel. The world is increasingly volatile and the great global Market churns away blissfully oblivious to its affect, exacerbating the volatility - and I am so angry and so tired of being angry, the way we are courting this revenge of the fire god. The way we poison the Earth and ourselves and then wonder why the world is such a mess.
My friend Snake thinks we don't think enough about death. That's about right. If we think about death at all, we think about how to avoid it. Which may seem practical, but in fact it only exacerbates the probability of death on a grand, even epic scale. Seven billion Homo sapien sapien finding ever more creative ways to kill each other, in the name of staying alive, to take over the world. Or in the case of suicide bombers, giving up on the instinct to survive, entirely.
God and Goddess have nothing to do with it, except insofar as they are used, God in particular, to justify the use of violence, the act of destruction, the accumulation of vast resources and the power that is associated with such control.
Death? I am going to die. I have no desire to avoid it. But I can tell you, whether it be fire from the sky, fire from the sun, fire from the Earth, fire from Homo sapien sapien, I will endeavor to survive. I will help others survive. If I do not first destroy myself with my anger.
And why am I so angry? Because this Earth is a wonderful and blessed, beautiful garden, and my species is destroying it.
Sewer
I'm having breakfast with my friend Snake, tomorrow morning. My clothes are long overdue for a wash. I've been meaning to do it for a week or better, but the opportunity presented itself. Actually, I could have washed my clothes Thanksgiving night, at my sister's; but the truth is, I haven't really cared.
Snake won't mind if I show up smelly, but we'd both rather I smell strong, pleasantly. So, I thought I might try the laundry machine downstairs, though it hasn't run in more than two years. I think the drain is open enough.
A test run. No clothes, just detergent and water. And now there is an inch of water in places, on the floor. Fuck.
I send the sewer auger down the drain. I can feel it building, my anger, the farther the auger reaches toward the sewer. I'm cursing God again. Fuck you God. Fuck you, God. What did I ever do but try to be a good man, to protect the Earth, to treat people well? What the fuck, God?
And I know it's all childish and irrational because I know I've unplugged the sewer as far as this auger will reach and it's another thirty or forty feet to the sewer. I pull the auger out and curse, standing in water. Fuck you God. You know what? Fuck you too, Goddess. What the fuck? What the fuck do you got to say about it? Fuck you.
The whole world is a mess, increasingly ruled by despots, by men seeking to control, to control nations, to control the water, to control food. Fuck you, God. Fuck you, Goddess. What the fuck do you got to say about it? Nothing but silence. Almost nothing but what comes from men who rule, who support rulers.
I'm stomping through the house, cursing. I step outside into the cold, to the garage, to gather a rubber tub I used this summer to gather water under a downspout. I carry the tub downstairs, set it behind the washing machine and hang the washing machine drain from the edge. I fill the machine with clothes, turn it on and stomp upstairs. I sit down on the couch.
They are talking about adding 25,000 field staff at the FDA, pursuant the passing of s510, the Food Safety Modernization Act. I wouldn't mind 25,000 men and women of service, assuring Monsanto, Cargill, Archers/Daniels/Midland etc. don't succeed in taking over the food supply. That's what this bill really is, a response to the local foods movement. Sky gods are losing market share.
What we are likely to get instead is 25,000 attack dogs hounding farmers growing food responsibly and delivering it to their neighbors, eliminating the competition, ruining families. Both parties would squawk "how awful," as they let it happen. The continued centralization of power, the food supply potentially controlled by one man serving a few dozen corporate masters. If you call yourself a Republican and support that, you have lost your way. The Republic cannot stand, the more centralized power becomes, when people lose control of their food supply.
And that is water splashing on my basement floor. Fuck. I walk downstairs, laughing, water pouring over the side of the tub. I shut off the washing machine. Fuck you God. Fuck you Goddess! Waatch you got to say? What the fuck you have to say? And there I am, standing in a pool of water and the extension cord connected to the washing machine is in the water.
That's how Thomas Merton died. A faulty wire connected to a fan, on the floor, in a bathroom, in southeast Asia.
I don't give a fuck how Thomas Merton died! Fuck you, waatch you got? Fuck you! Fry Me! Fuck. Fuck you. Fuck!...you.
I sit down on the washing machine and think about it, my head bowed, my eyes wet, my face numb. You think I'm angry? Spend a week in the jungles of Congo or Columbia, a few days in Mogadishu, a tour in the Afghan/Pakistan borderlands, Hanukkah in the West Bank or Gaza. I'm a puppy dog by comparison.
I walk to the garage, gather another tub and a milk jug with part of the top cut out, return downstairs and transfer water from tub to tub, restart the wash and wait, thinking about those young men I wrote about recently, wondering about wearing my wooden swords and patrolling the park on Fudo Myo, my bike. I heard from a man who knows a man who was in the park that day, who came upon the assault just as it was ending. There were many people in the park that day, it turns out. Had any one of them followed those young men, would the other assaults have happened? I wonder if most Americans are like that, finding reasons not to help, not helping in any way they can if they think there is any kind of danger? For all our talk about freedom, I wonder if we will one day accept a full-on centralized tyranny if we think it will keep us safe?
The wash is done and I carry it upstairs, hang it from 12-2 electrical cord I've strung six ways from screws I tapped into the top of a window and the bathroom door. The irony is, I have pants in the closet I could have worn. I could have patched something together nicely, to make myself presentable, not having had to wash clothes and get water on the floor and add two more tubs of standing water including the bath sink and the rubber tub in the bathtub. But I'm glad to have the clean clothes.
No question, I need to unplug the sewer drain. I need to find an auger that will reach, and maybe make the full commitment and tear up the floor. I have an idea about sending pex water lines down the drain to the sewer, to see if I can generate some radiant heat to help heat the house. I met a man this summer who thinks it will work.
Just don't tell the city I'm trying it.
Snake won't mind if I show up smelly, but we'd both rather I smell strong, pleasantly. So, I thought I might try the laundry machine downstairs, though it hasn't run in more than two years. I think the drain is open enough.
A test run. No clothes, just detergent and water. And now there is an inch of water in places, on the floor. Fuck.
I send the sewer auger down the drain. I can feel it building, my anger, the farther the auger reaches toward the sewer. I'm cursing God again. Fuck you God. Fuck you, God. What did I ever do but try to be a good man, to protect the Earth, to treat people well? What the fuck, God?
And I know it's all childish and irrational because I know I've unplugged the sewer as far as this auger will reach and it's another thirty or forty feet to the sewer. I pull the auger out and curse, standing in water. Fuck you God. You know what? Fuck you too, Goddess. What the fuck? What the fuck do you got to say about it? Fuck you.
The whole world is a mess, increasingly ruled by despots, by men seeking to control, to control nations, to control the water, to control food. Fuck you, God. Fuck you, Goddess. What the fuck do you got to say about it? Nothing but silence. Almost nothing but what comes from men who rule, who support rulers.
I'm stomping through the house, cursing. I step outside into the cold, to the garage, to gather a rubber tub I used this summer to gather water under a downspout. I carry the tub downstairs, set it behind the washing machine and hang the washing machine drain from the edge. I fill the machine with clothes, turn it on and stomp upstairs. I sit down on the couch.
They are talking about adding 25,000 field staff at the FDA, pursuant the passing of s510, the Food Safety Modernization Act. I wouldn't mind 25,000 men and women of service, assuring Monsanto, Cargill, Archers/Daniels/Midland etc. don't succeed in taking over the food supply. That's what this bill really is, a response to the local foods movement. Sky gods are losing market share.
What we are likely to get instead is 25,000 attack dogs hounding farmers growing food responsibly and delivering it to their neighbors, eliminating the competition, ruining families. Both parties would squawk "how awful," as they let it happen. The continued centralization of power, the food supply potentially controlled by one man serving a few dozen corporate masters. If you call yourself a Republican and support that, you have lost your way. The Republic cannot stand, the more centralized power becomes, when people lose control of their food supply.
And that is water splashing on my basement floor. Fuck. I walk downstairs, laughing, water pouring over the side of the tub. I shut off the washing machine. Fuck you God. Fuck you Goddess! Waatch you got to say? What the fuck you have to say? And there I am, standing in a pool of water and the extension cord connected to the washing machine is in the water.
That's how Thomas Merton died. A faulty wire connected to a fan, on the floor, in a bathroom, in southeast Asia.
I don't give a fuck how Thomas Merton died! Fuck you, waatch you got? Fuck you! Fry Me! Fuck. Fuck you. Fuck!...you.
I sit down on the washing machine and think about it, my head bowed, my eyes wet, my face numb. You think I'm angry? Spend a week in the jungles of Congo or Columbia, a few days in Mogadishu, a tour in the Afghan/Pakistan borderlands, Hanukkah in the West Bank or Gaza. I'm a puppy dog by comparison.
I walk to the garage, gather another tub and a milk jug with part of the top cut out, return downstairs and transfer water from tub to tub, restart the wash and wait, thinking about those young men I wrote about recently, wondering about wearing my wooden swords and patrolling the park on Fudo Myo, my bike. I heard from a man who knows a man who was in the park that day, who came upon the assault just as it was ending. There were many people in the park that day, it turns out. Had any one of them followed those young men, would the other assaults have happened? I wonder if most Americans are like that, finding reasons not to help, not helping in any way they can if they think there is any kind of danger? For all our talk about freedom, I wonder if we will one day accept a full-on centralized tyranny if we think it will keep us safe?
The wash is done and I carry it upstairs, hang it from 12-2 electrical cord I've strung six ways from screws I tapped into the top of a window and the bathroom door. The irony is, I have pants in the closet I could have worn. I could have patched something together nicely, to make myself presentable, not having had to wash clothes and get water on the floor and add two more tubs of standing water including the bath sink and the rubber tub in the bathtub. But I'm glad to have the clean clothes.
No question, I need to unplug the sewer drain. I need to find an auger that will reach, and maybe make the full commitment and tear up the floor. I have an idea about sending pex water lines down the drain to the sewer, to see if I can generate some radiant heat to help heat the house. I met a man this summer who thinks it will work.
Just don't tell the city I'm trying it.
Monday, November 29, 2010
For Chad
As I have been a bit serious in my posts of late, I thought I might add a bit of levity. I found the following words scrawled on a post-it note tacked to a telephone pole, as I was riding my bike through the plainest of Minneapolis neighborhoods. The handwriting was so curious very few could ever hope to read it without regular exposure. I think the guy must be lonely, and maybe downright nuts. Eccentric, for sure. Anyway, here it is, verbatim.
Exceptionally intelligent, talented, gifted, attractive, sexy, skilled, impecunious, perpetually under-employed, ever-effacing, athletic, nearsighted, bald but hairy SWM, seeking F, of similar qualities except the baldness and impecuniousness (then again, who am I to judge), near or farsightedness not being a problem, nor hairiness, necessarily. Must like dirt. Or, at least, be tolerant of. Accepting of odd and far-fetched perspectives hardly anyone has ever thought to entertain, or would, or will, or could. Must be open to big dreams with lots of do, even if some of those dreams are so big all the do there is won't make them happen. An automobile is acceptable, as is a functioning shower. Better yet, a claw foot tub. Because if we hook up I'll be bathing mostly at your house. You can borrow my garden tools if you share your vegetables. I'll show you my root cellar if you show me yours. A preference for dark beer over light is requisite, though not really if it comes down to that. I'll buy you either if I think I'm going to score. Though don't worry; any women who scores with me, I'm holding on to (unless of course she wants me to let go.) If interested, write your number on this post-it. I keep a constant eye on it with my binoculars, and as soon as you are out of sight I'm going to take it down and call. That is, if you are pretty, to me. If I don't think you are pretty, I might not call, but that doesn't mean I don't think you are beautiful.
I wrote the contents down in my notebook and left my telephone number. He called before I'd gone two blocks. He was disappointed to learn I was a guy, so clearly he doesn't have very high expectations. Anyway, ladies, I'd tell you which telephone pole he tacks the note to, but I don't think his neighbors would be open to a stampede, and I worry he might run out of post-its. I can only tell you I found the note not far from Lake Nokomis. Best of luck. He sounded nice, but I can't vouch for his hygiene, or his appearance.
Exceptionally intelligent, talented, gifted, attractive, sexy, skilled, impecunious, perpetually under-employed, ever-effacing, athletic, nearsighted, bald but hairy SWM, seeking F, of similar qualities except the baldness and impecuniousness (then again, who am I to judge), near or farsightedness not being a problem, nor hairiness, necessarily. Must like dirt. Or, at least, be tolerant of. Accepting of odd and far-fetched perspectives hardly anyone has ever thought to entertain, or would, or will, or could. Must be open to big dreams with lots of do, even if some of those dreams are so big all the do there is won't make them happen. An automobile is acceptable, as is a functioning shower. Better yet, a claw foot tub. Because if we hook up I'll be bathing mostly at your house. You can borrow my garden tools if you share your vegetables. I'll show you my root cellar if you show me yours. A preference for dark beer over light is requisite, though not really if it comes down to that. I'll buy you either if I think I'm going to score. Though don't worry; any women who scores with me, I'm holding on to (unless of course she wants me to let go.) If interested, write your number on this post-it. I keep a constant eye on it with my binoculars, and as soon as you are out of sight I'm going to take it down and call. That is, if you are pretty, to me. If I don't think you are pretty, I might not call, but that doesn't mean I don't think you are beautiful.
I wrote the contents down in my notebook and left my telephone number. He called before I'd gone two blocks. He was disappointed to learn I was a guy, so clearly he doesn't have very high expectations. Anyway, ladies, I'd tell you which telephone pole he tacks the note to, but I don't think his neighbors would be open to a stampede, and I worry he might run out of post-its. I can only tell you I found the note not far from Lake Nokomis. Best of luck. He sounded nice, but I can't vouch for his hygiene, or his appearance.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Where are the Men?
This weekend, four young men between the age of 13-16 were found after sexually assaulting several women in south Minneapolis. I will spare the details. Our impulse is to blame the parents. They share some of the blame. But I believe the fault reverberates throughout the culture of America. Where were the men in that park, in that alley, at any point in the life of these young men? It will be said these young men fell through the cracks. What good is that to the women who were raped? Clearly these young men had little if any interaction with men able to model the Sacred Masculine.
Why do I call them young men? Because a boy at thirteen goes through the physical transformation by which he becomes a man. But our culture does not recognise adulthood until one reaches the age of 18, and even then there are rights not extended to us. Historically, the men of the culture would take the boy going through that transformation and put him through a set of trials, after which he would be recognised by the whole community as a man among men. The older, wiser men would be there to guide the young man throughout his life. He would be encouraged to model Sacred Masculine.
In our culture, young men are left to figure it out for themselves. Most of us get lost, whether we know we are lost of not. If we are taught anything at all, it's mostly about how to get in line, how to bow down, how to rule. Manhood in America is most often associated with violence and ownership. The individualist creed so prominent in our culture says, "Every Man for Himself." It is the fundamental basis of modern economics, and there is nothing more sacred in this culture than the Market. Women are thought to be less than. Community is virtually dead, and so the presence of the watchful, protective eyes of strong, grounded adults is not a reality in most neighborhoods.
That thirteen year old got his initiation, from older men in his community. And for it several women and the children of one of those women will be haunted much of their lives. And we can all go back to our televisions and our jobs and forget, though in each of us is a vaguely unsettled feeling that something is not right with the world. How helpless we feel.
Cheers to the officers who are said to have interrupted the young men as their went about their awful work. Thank you. As for what to do about these young men, I admit I have had visions of killing them. I would be content to be allowed into a dim room, all four boys tied and bound. I will paint myself green, attach horns to my head, carry my deer horns and dance and roar. I promise I won't kill them. At most, I would demand from each how they hope to redeem themselves, and maybe puncture a thigh of each with a horn.
What? Do you suppose the "Justice" system can do better? Regardless, they will be treated as adults now. By the courts. Thrown in with the rest of the rapists and murderers. While the culture, which is us, goes about creating more and more young men without the ability to feel. More young men who laugh at the pain of others.
So, men, what are you doing to restore the sense of Sacred Masculine in yourselves? How are you modeling that for the boys and young men in your life? Good men, rise up. You are models, whatever you do. It can't be helped. Look deep inside and find healing. The world is in desperate need of good men, protectors. It can't be left to the police alone.
Why do I call them young men? Because a boy at thirteen goes through the physical transformation by which he becomes a man. But our culture does not recognise adulthood until one reaches the age of 18, and even then there are rights not extended to us. Historically, the men of the culture would take the boy going through that transformation and put him through a set of trials, after which he would be recognised by the whole community as a man among men. The older, wiser men would be there to guide the young man throughout his life. He would be encouraged to model Sacred Masculine.
In our culture, young men are left to figure it out for themselves. Most of us get lost, whether we know we are lost of not. If we are taught anything at all, it's mostly about how to get in line, how to bow down, how to rule. Manhood in America is most often associated with violence and ownership. The individualist creed so prominent in our culture says, "Every Man for Himself." It is the fundamental basis of modern economics, and there is nothing more sacred in this culture than the Market. Women are thought to be less than. Community is virtually dead, and so the presence of the watchful, protective eyes of strong, grounded adults is not a reality in most neighborhoods.
That thirteen year old got his initiation, from older men in his community. And for it several women and the children of one of those women will be haunted much of their lives. And we can all go back to our televisions and our jobs and forget, though in each of us is a vaguely unsettled feeling that something is not right with the world. How helpless we feel.
Cheers to the officers who are said to have interrupted the young men as their went about their awful work. Thank you. As for what to do about these young men, I admit I have had visions of killing them. I would be content to be allowed into a dim room, all four boys tied and bound. I will paint myself green, attach horns to my head, carry my deer horns and dance and roar. I promise I won't kill them. At most, I would demand from each how they hope to redeem themselves, and maybe puncture a thigh of each with a horn.
What? Do you suppose the "Justice" system can do better? Regardless, they will be treated as adults now. By the courts. Thrown in with the rest of the rapists and murderers. While the culture, which is us, goes about creating more and more young men without the ability to feel. More young men who laugh at the pain of others.
So, men, what are you doing to restore the sense of Sacred Masculine in yourselves? How are you modeling that for the boys and young men in your life? Good men, rise up. You are models, whatever you do. It can't be helped. Look deep inside and find healing. The world is in desperate need of good men, protectors. It can't be left to the police alone.
Friday, November 26, 2010
A Turkey: Senate Bill s510
This Thanksgiving holiday, which is more than any other American holiday, about food, consider briefly the s510 Food Safety Modernization Act. Sponsored by Senator Durbin of Illinois, it is ostensibly an attempt by Congress to prevent food-borne illnesses, which, due to the industrialization of the food supply, have become a nationwide problem. It has become increasingly common, the recall of greens or meat contaminated with e-coli, salmonella, etc, recalls more often than not encompassing ten or twenty or thirty states.
The bill would empower the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) with far greater oversight of food production. This, if passed and funded, would result in the hiring of hundreds of thousands, to fill new FDA positions. In a time of 17-18 percent unemployment, that would seem like a win-win situation. Better oversight of food production, more jobs.
Of course, you can bet, the bulk of that oversight will be felt by small producers providing to a local community. Invasive and unnecessary inspections of smaller farms and distributors, and not of the massive facilities controlled by and affiliated with the likes of Cargill, Archers-Daniels-Midland and General Mills. These companies and others like them, which also happen to be the greatest beneficiaries of farm-bill subsidies, will get a free pass, by virtue of well placed political contributions.
This is the kind of well meaning obtuseness offered by the Democratic party these days. "The business sector is not creating jobs. Here, let us do it." A whole new cadre of government bureaucrats enforcing rules, regulations and code, blind to the health of the economy, the Earth or people. Oh, the joy.
Here's an idea. As there is no money to create these Government jobs anyway, and we have a trillion dollar deficit and a 15 trillion dollar debt, end all farm subsidies. It is a curious and unfortunate reality that Government policy and the industrialization of the food supply has made the least healthy food-product the cheapest and most readily available. For those of us who would like to be honest about it, this contributes to the ill-health of the populace, which is very, very lucrative for the Health Care Industry, which is 20% of the overall economy.
End all subsidies for the industrial production of Corn, Soybeans, Wheat, Pork, Beef and Poultry. This will immediately result in farm foreclosures everywhere. Which is fine, frankly, because these will be the farms and farmers most beholden to the industrial way of things, which is unhealthy for the land and people. The land will return to the banks. Here is the tricky part. Banks have ceased to have any concern for the state of the Union, except insofar as things remain stable enough for banks and bankers to continue the process of controlling a greater and greater percentage of the economy - a change from about 10-15% to 30-35% in the last three decades - out of pure self-aggrandizement.
Americans, take the land from the banks. Use a portion of the subsidies we once paid to Industrial producers, and find young families who will grow food, in a healthy way, for X number of people. Use a portion of the fossil fuels we would otherwise burn producing industrial product, to deliver the healthy product provided by these rural families to the city.
Plant the city with gardens and fruit and nut trees, everywhere possible. Let everyone know where their food comes from, so there is a relationship between the grower and the consumer. This will lessen the likelihood of food-borne illnesses considerably. People eating healthier food will be healthier. Health Care costs will go down radically, which will make basic health care more available for more people.
Now, sky gods and the defenders of ill-health will say such a project will result in food shortages. It might, particularly if we rush into it. We are not likely to rush into it. More likely, if we consider it at all, we will deliberate indefinitely, and nothing will happen except the maintaining of the status quo.
We forget, I think, that we are Americans. A nation by, for, and of the people. We have been abdicating our responsibility a long time, handing our power to the sky gods of Institutions, saying, here, take this responsibility, we don't want it. Well, at some point, we take back that responsibility, or we cease to be a Republic and the dream that was America is dead.
Of course, the greatest barrier to our taking responsibility for our food supply and making people and the land and the Union healthier than it is, is not sky gods, or institutions, it's our addiction to High Fructose Corn Syrup and the like. It's the unhealthy way in which we eat, the unhealthy way in which we live, and our demand that we should have whatever Health Care we need whenever we need it. There it is. All change begins with oneself.
Whatever happens, Senate Bill s510 is everything that is wrong with Government. Spending money we don't have to complicate peoples lives while trying to attack a symptom and failing, when saving money with a different approach would eliminate the fundamental problem.
I had Thanksgiving with my sister and her family. We had fun. After dinner my niece pulled out all her scarves and a technicolor wig, and made me look like a glam Jimi Hendrix, (who, by the way, was more a patriot than most sky gods.) I had offered to buy the turkey, but my sister went ahead and bought one anyway. One of those industrial birds that never once in his life saw natural light, a bird bred for bulk and abject stupidity, fed a mixture of processed corn, chemicals, and probably, animal by-product, and copious amounts of antibiotics to keep him from keeling over dead, which he no doubt would have otherwise, before he reached a girth necessary to meet Wall Street expectations. Which bird, due to Federal subsidies, was $0.48/lb, as opposed to the bird I would have purchased, at $2.39 - $7.99 a pound, a locally raised bird that had something resembling a bird's life, provided by a local family I could go and visit, if I were so inclined. Would I be allowed to visit a Jennie-O or Tyson facility?
My sister cooked the bird until it collapsed. She didn't over-cook it, it simply collapsed, at about the same time it was ready to eat. Which may be why the production company didn't bother to include one of those cheap pop-up thermometers; it maybe wasn't just a cost-cutting means to maintain investor confidence. She asked me why I thought it collapsed and I started to talk about the life of the bird but she cut me off. She's got a baby on the way and a seven year old and there isn't much money coming in. She didn't want to hear about the miserable life of the bird she was about to eat. I'm not insensitive; all I was going to say was, the bird had a weak bone structure, for obvious reasons.
I didn't much like the idea of making my flesh of the flesh of a bird whose bone structure was so categorically weak, but I gorged. I think I ate about 3 or 4 lbs. Because it was there, it was offered to me by my sister, and I abhor self-righteousness. If I wanted a better bird I could have ridden my bike the ten miles to the Seward Co-op and back, like I told myself I would. But it has been eff-in cold this week and I've been content to ride my bike no further than the closest coffee shop, to write vehement exhortations on the state of our food supply and the ill-health of this blessed, over-indulgent America.
The bill would empower the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) with far greater oversight of food production. This, if passed and funded, would result in the hiring of hundreds of thousands, to fill new FDA positions. In a time of 17-18 percent unemployment, that would seem like a win-win situation. Better oversight of food production, more jobs.
Of course, you can bet, the bulk of that oversight will be felt by small producers providing to a local community. Invasive and unnecessary inspections of smaller farms and distributors, and not of the massive facilities controlled by and affiliated with the likes of Cargill, Archers-Daniels-Midland and General Mills. These companies and others like them, which also happen to be the greatest beneficiaries of farm-bill subsidies, will get a free pass, by virtue of well placed political contributions.
This is the kind of well meaning obtuseness offered by the Democratic party these days. "The business sector is not creating jobs. Here, let us do it." A whole new cadre of government bureaucrats enforcing rules, regulations and code, blind to the health of the economy, the Earth or people. Oh, the joy.
Here's an idea. As there is no money to create these Government jobs anyway, and we have a trillion dollar deficit and a 15 trillion dollar debt, end all farm subsidies. It is a curious and unfortunate reality that Government policy and the industrialization of the food supply has made the least healthy food-product the cheapest and most readily available. For those of us who would like to be honest about it, this contributes to the ill-health of the populace, which is very, very lucrative for the Health Care Industry, which is 20% of the overall economy.
End all subsidies for the industrial production of Corn, Soybeans, Wheat, Pork, Beef and Poultry. This will immediately result in farm foreclosures everywhere. Which is fine, frankly, because these will be the farms and farmers most beholden to the industrial way of things, which is unhealthy for the land and people. The land will return to the banks. Here is the tricky part. Banks have ceased to have any concern for the state of the Union, except insofar as things remain stable enough for banks and bankers to continue the process of controlling a greater and greater percentage of the economy - a change from about 10-15% to 30-35% in the last three decades - out of pure self-aggrandizement.
Americans, take the land from the banks. Use a portion of the subsidies we once paid to Industrial producers, and find young families who will grow food, in a healthy way, for X number of people. Use a portion of the fossil fuels we would otherwise burn producing industrial product, to deliver the healthy product provided by these rural families to the city.
Plant the city with gardens and fruit and nut trees, everywhere possible. Let everyone know where their food comes from, so there is a relationship between the grower and the consumer. This will lessen the likelihood of food-borne illnesses considerably. People eating healthier food will be healthier. Health Care costs will go down radically, which will make basic health care more available for more people.
Now, sky gods and the defenders of ill-health will say such a project will result in food shortages. It might, particularly if we rush into it. We are not likely to rush into it. More likely, if we consider it at all, we will deliberate indefinitely, and nothing will happen except the maintaining of the status quo.
We forget, I think, that we are Americans. A nation by, for, and of the people. We have been abdicating our responsibility a long time, handing our power to the sky gods of Institutions, saying, here, take this responsibility, we don't want it. Well, at some point, we take back that responsibility, or we cease to be a Republic and the dream that was America is dead.
Of course, the greatest barrier to our taking responsibility for our food supply and making people and the land and the Union healthier than it is, is not sky gods, or institutions, it's our addiction to High Fructose Corn Syrup and the like. It's the unhealthy way in which we eat, the unhealthy way in which we live, and our demand that we should have whatever Health Care we need whenever we need it. There it is. All change begins with oneself.
Whatever happens, Senate Bill s510 is everything that is wrong with Government. Spending money we don't have to complicate peoples lives while trying to attack a symptom and failing, when saving money with a different approach would eliminate the fundamental problem.
I had Thanksgiving with my sister and her family. We had fun. After dinner my niece pulled out all her scarves and a technicolor wig, and made me look like a glam Jimi Hendrix, (who, by the way, was more a patriot than most sky gods.) I had offered to buy the turkey, but my sister went ahead and bought one anyway. One of those industrial birds that never once in his life saw natural light, a bird bred for bulk and abject stupidity, fed a mixture of processed corn, chemicals, and probably, animal by-product, and copious amounts of antibiotics to keep him from keeling over dead, which he no doubt would have otherwise, before he reached a girth necessary to meet Wall Street expectations. Which bird, due to Federal subsidies, was $0.48/lb, as opposed to the bird I would have purchased, at $2.39 - $7.99 a pound, a locally raised bird that had something resembling a bird's life, provided by a local family I could go and visit, if I were so inclined. Would I be allowed to visit a Jennie-O or Tyson facility?
My sister cooked the bird until it collapsed. She didn't over-cook it, it simply collapsed, at about the same time it was ready to eat. Which may be why the production company didn't bother to include one of those cheap pop-up thermometers; it maybe wasn't just a cost-cutting means to maintain investor confidence. She asked me why I thought it collapsed and I started to talk about the life of the bird but she cut me off. She's got a baby on the way and a seven year old and there isn't much money coming in. She didn't want to hear about the miserable life of the bird she was about to eat. I'm not insensitive; all I was going to say was, the bird had a weak bone structure, for obvious reasons.
I didn't much like the idea of making my flesh of the flesh of a bird whose bone structure was so categorically weak, but I gorged. I think I ate about 3 or 4 lbs. Because it was there, it was offered to me by my sister, and I abhor self-righteousness. If I wanted a better bird I could have ridden my bike the ten miles to the Seward Co-op and back, like I told myself I would. But it has been eff-in cold this week and I've been content to ride my bike no further than the closest coffee shop, to write vehement exhortations on the state of our food supply and the ill-health of this blessed, over-indulgent America.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Thanksgiving - Good Men
Recently, I posted a "jobs" add on Craigslist titled Good Men. I encouraged men with children to apply, though the only true requisites were a good attitude, a solid work ethic and an ability to lift a heavy load. I was looking for one man to help me transfer the contents of Monster Halloween to the rented storage facility. A one day job, $10/hr, a meal and maybe beer afterwards. Not much, but something.
Fifty-seven good men applied, in the four hours the add was open. Many of them with children, almost all out of work, many from the trades, many out of work for a long time. Had I had the work I would have hired most of them. I didn't have much time to consider. It came down to two men, Mark R who is out of work and has a wife and three girls, and Kenny T, a new father. I chose Kenny, because he was reasonably articulate in his reply, because another man I had already hired is about to be a new father, and - this was the clincher - his son shares my birthday, the 4th of July.
Kenny did great. He's Texan, here because his father is. He doesn't much like the winter, though I wouldn't expect him to. I gave him $100 though he didn't work a full ten hours. But then, he worked more than ten, if you consider the bus ride and the waiting, between Uptown Minneapolis and Columbia Heights.
The Government says about 9% unemployment, but that's bullshit. It's more like 17-18%, and more than that if you consider the under-employed. The nation's economy grew about 2.5% last quarter, GDP has recovered to pre-2008 recession levels, but where are the jobs? I was under the impression that the Market is infallible. So we have been told, repeatedly.
Do we have any kind of plan for these good men, or are we simply going to leave it up to sky gods to figure it out? They are howling for tax cuts, you know, those sky gods. But eliminate sky god taxes entirely and it won't mean jack if they have no sense of civic, social responsibility. This is a Republic, yes? Or have we become a Plutocracy, in which case, the only real concern is the maintaining of order, that sky gods may become more powerful, more rich?
The trades aren't likely to improve, anytime soon. So what is going to happen to these men? the re-training argument is mostly pandering to the Higher-Education Industry, putting off the problem, a high-cost we can't afford. And what exactly are we going to retrain them to do?
I can think of a few things, like getting a handle on invasive species like Buckthorn, planting native habitats and growing healthy food. How about sustainable, passive-solar design? Problem is, if we rely on Government to set this up, are we going to get healthier landscapes and healthier food, more energy efficient homes, or just a big fat bureaucracy reinforcing itself, feeding on the populace, accomplishing little?
Blessings to all good men and their families, this Thanksgiving, this Holiday season. Rejoice in your family, friends and community. Rejoice in the Earth. Remember to smile. Play, especially if you have children. And to those who applied to my add, I'm sorry I couldn't hire you. Best of luck. And like you, I am now unemployed. One of those our Government does not count, because, as a contractor, I can't apply for unemployment benefits. Don't really want such benefits anyway. I don't have a family of my own to provide for. And as far as our Government is concerned, I don't believe it has any sense of what is best for the nation. In fact, I believe it is reinforcing both the ill-health of the Earth and people. Because we, as Americans, don't really know what we want. And if we think we do, we don't really know what it will cost. We have lost our way, and so, our Government has gone wayward, and we are all on a path that can not be sustained.
Fifty-seven good men applied, in the four hours the add was open. Many of them with children, almost all out of work, many from the trades, many out of work for a long time. Had I had the work I would have hired most of them. I didn't have much time to consider. It came down to two men, Mark R who is out of work and has a wife and three girls, and Kenny T, a new father. I chose Kenny, because he was reasonably articulate in his reply, because another man I had already hired is about to be a new father, and - this was the clincher - his son shares my birthday, the 4th of July.
Kenny did great. He's Texan, here because his father is. He doesn't much like the winter, though I wouldn't expect him to. I gave him $100 though he didn't work a full ten hours. But then, he worked more than ten, if you consider the bus ride and the waiting, between Uptown Minneapolis and Columbia Heights.
The Government says about 9% unemployment, but that's bullshit. It's more like 17-18%, and more than that if you consider the under-employed. The nation's economy grew about 2.5% last quarter, GDP has recovered to pre-2008 recession levels, but where are the jobs? I was under the impression that the Market is infallible. So we have been told, repeatedly.
Do we have any kind of plan for these good men, or are we simply going to leave it up to sky gods to figure it out? They are howling for tax cuts, you know, those sky gods. But eliminate sky god taxes entirely and it won't mean jack if they have no sense of civic, social responsibility. This is a Republic, yes? Or have we become a Plutocracy, in which case, the only real concern is the maintaining of order, that sky gods may become more powerful, more rich?
The trades aren't likely to improve, anytime soon. So what is going to happen to these men? the re-training argument is mostly pandering to the Higher-Education Industry, putting off the problem, a high-cost we can't afford. And what exactly are we going to retrain them to do?
I can think of a few things, like getting a handle on invasive species like Buckthorn, planting native habitats and growing healthy food. How about sustainable, passive-solar design? Problem is, if we rely on Government to set this up, are we going to get healthier landscapes and healthier food, more energy efficient homes, or just a big fat bureaucracy reinforcing itself, feeding on the populace, accomplishing little?
Blessings to all good men and their families, this Thanksgiving, this Holiday season. Rejoice in your family, friends and community. Rejoice in the Earth. Remember to smile. Play, especially if you have children. And to those who applied to my add, I'm sorry I couldn't hire you. Best of luck. And like you, I am now unemployed. One of those our Government does not count, because, as a contractor, I can't apply for unemployment benefits. Don't really want such benefits anyway. I don't have a family of my own to provide for. And as far as our Government is concerned, I don't believe it has any sense of what is best for the nation. In fact, I believe it is reinforcing both the ill-health of the Earth and people. Because we, as Americans, don't really know what we want. And if we think we do, we don't really know what it will cost. We have lost our way, and so, our Government has gone wayward, and we are all on a path that can not be sustained.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Economic Systems and my Anger
A dear friend of mine, Mark Helpsmeet, just returned from Cuba. He is a Quaker, and an enthusiastic folk dancer. A good man, too, on a mission of peace. I asked him how it went. "We were treated like rock stars. Imagine that!" he said, as he laughed heartily. He and his companions were, at some performances, mobbed. This is not a behavior they are accustomed to, as a response to the presentation of their traditional dances, in America. As fun and joyous as those presentations may be.
On one such occasion, in Cuba, a government official gave an address, as is evidently a common occurrence, there being so many government officials. At the end of this, the party official, after a long denotation of the evil Empire America, acknowledging the peaceful mission of Mark and his acquaintances, shouted, "Viva los estados unidos." Long live the United States. Which no one had ever heard from any party official anywhere in Cuba, in fifty years. But then, the Embargo is the only thing keeping that party in power.
I asked how the food was. I imagine Hispaniola to be a potential Eden, where just about anything might grow. Mark repiled that he had enough to eat. It may be a potential Eden, but the Cuban people have ration cards, which entitles them to less than a person needs to survive - at the time, 3lbs of rice, 1lb of beans and 5 eggs, per person, per month. Whatever more they need, they grow themselves, or buy on the black market. Which, evidently, doesn't amount to much more than just about enough.
I told Mark the rock star treatment probably means he's on an FBI watch list, that our phone conversation was probably being recorded. After agreeing that the US trade embargo is nothing more than the maintaining of a boogey man, we were sure to remind those government officials listening in, of the complete inviability of the Communist system. As for the making of boogey men, aren't Mexican drug cartels, militant homicidal Islamic Jihadists, bottle-eyed North Korean nuclear ambitionists, and Chinese Communist/Capitalist/Imperialists enough? I was under the impression we are supposed to be a beacon of light for the world? Would anyone like to explain why we are not shining that light on Cuba, without offering some tired nonsense about preventing the spread of Communism?
The Transportation Safety Administration officials who met Mark on his return acted as if he had visited the jungles of Congo or Colombia: "You are lucky to be alive, it's so dangerous there." It's not, but somehow our Government thinks it important that we think Cuba is violent, a threat to the United States. If we ended the embargo the Communist government would collapse with the first real wiff of Consumerism the Cuban people got. But then our Government would have one less boogey man to make us afraid with.
The Communist system is without any doubt inviable. It is even more destructive than Capitalism, the inviability of which hasn't quite played out yet.
Leaving for this trip to Cuba, Mark and his wife Sandra arrived at the Eau Claire airport about 25 minutes before the flight. This is a small airport, more like a small office on the tarmac. They were not allowed to board. There was a later flight, but the United Airlines tickets went from $800 to $2800. Then, on their return, United Airlines had no ticket for them, from Toronto to Minneapolis, unless they wanted to buy a new ticket. They drove instead.
Mark is, like me, after balance, wholeness and healing. Earlier this year, Mark had to pay $2500 for the right to build a garage, in Eau Claire County Wisconsin, USA. The county said the lot line ran through his bedroom. That, and a variance might be required to build a new garage on the site of the old garage, because it was about fifty feet from the road and not the required 60ft. The lot line did not run through his bedroom, and the garage wasn't a threat to the road or the drivers on it, but it cost he and his wife Sandra $2500 to get the county to acknowledge it.
This week I received my latest property tax statement from Hennepin County. Taxes increased 16.2%, about $400. That's not as bad as previous years, one year at 19%, another at 23%, if I recall correctly. In addition, my father recently noticed the county has the house listed under a non-homestead status. As I recall, both my father and I were adamant about homestead status, when we purchased the house. I looked at the mortgage. Sure enough, section 24, "buyer waves all right of homestead exemption in the property," our initials an inch and a half away at the bottom of the page.
A non-homestead status means we can be taxed at a higher rate, liens can be placed against the property, and it's easier for the bank to foreclose. In other words, that is motive for malfeasance, for banks, the financial industry and Government. An opportunity for predation. An invitation to rapaciousness.
I can't recall if I agreed to this or not. If I did, I certainly didn't understand the ramifications of it, and the banker wasn't educating me. It would not have been difficult for this to be manipulated in the Bank's favor. That would be Wells Fargo, by the way, the bank that holds my mortgage. I have friends who work for Wells Fargo. Dear friends. Good people. I want not to have to accuse the bank they work for of malfeasance and rapaciousness.
But then, I hear the banks are cutting small business credit lines in half. Two years after Banks were handing out credit as if it were high fructose corn syrup, you can't get credit unless you've got the assets to back the loan in full. Clearly, the sky gods who control these banks are idiots, that they should set the means for the implosion of the economy, and then tighten up like assholes in a blizzard when it's really spring and time for growth.
There was a time when credit was extended in part according to the character of the man asking for it. But it takes character to be a judge of it, and even if you have character and you can recognize it in others, in this age of International Lending Institutions, a branch banker isn't empowered to loan money based on character. The branch banker is empowered to loan money to any man without character, even if that man is a monster, if that monster happens also to be exceptional at making money.
I've been very angry, the past few days. The other day, as I was attending to the most unpleasant task of unclogging my sewer drain, I shouted twice, "Fuck you, God." Where did that come from? It's not God who rules this world, but men who pursue wealth and power at the expense of everything but themselves. Though God provides a great excuse.
I picked up the Koran last night. I almost put it down after the first page. I would expect the Word of God to start with something about joy, beauty and wonder, not a speech about the terrible chastisements awaiting unbelievers. Such a tone as this could only be set by a man in pursuit of control and domination, which may be expected in a world where murder, rape and plunder are a constant threat. Having grown up in a culture where these are not an immediate threat, I don't want to hear about control and domination and the awful Other. I want to hear about Joy, Beauty, Wonder, Balance, Wholeness, Healing. I want that message to be open to and embracing of the great multiplicity that is the Homo sapien sapien experience.
Here in America, we've tried a balance between Business and Government. We have emphasized both without emphasizing character. Consequently, we've got a Government and and Economic elite almost wholly unaccountable, unresponsive and elevated to an untouchable state. But we the citizenry have more power than we think. Democracy is dependent on a populace with character. It will be dependant upon the character of Americans whether or not we have a system that is accountable, responsive and within reach.
What is my recommendation? I recommend a year long holiday. Not from work, but from taxes and credit. That would assuredly implode both America's and the World's economy. It would take a vibrant and healthy local economy to ride out that storm. At the end of which, I would hope, sky gods would be considerably humbled, and existential threats will have diminished considerably.
Meanwhile, I'm paying my dues to banks, corporations and Government. I will continue, even as I use what they provide less and less. And I will cease to pay when my fellow Americans are fed up with this rapacious, predatory, and disempowering system that is leading us toward a terrible crash and burn, and willing to do something meaningful about it.
On one such occasion, in Cuba, a government official gave an address, as is evidently a common occurrence, there being so many government officials. At the end of this, the party official, after a long denotation of the evil Empire America, acknowledging the peaceful mission of Mark and his acquaintances, shouted, "Viva los estados unidos." Long live the United States. Which no one had ever heard from any party official anywhere in Cuba, in fifty years. But then, the Embargo is the only thing keeping that party in power.
I asked how the food was. I imagine Hispaniola to be a potential Eden, where just about anything might grow. Mark repiled that he had enough to eat. It may be a potential Eden, but the Cuban people have ration cards, which entitles them to less than a person needs to survive - at the time, 3lbs of rice, 1lb of beans and 5 eggs, per person, per month. Whatever more they need, they grow themselves, or buy on the black market. Which, evidently, doesn't amount to much more than just about enough.
I told Mark the rock star treatment probably means he's on an FBI watch list, that our phone conversation was probably being recorded. After agreeing that the US trade embargo is nothing more than the maintaining of a boogey man, we were sure to remind those government officials listening in, of the complete inviability of the Communist system. As for the making of boogey men, aren't Mexican drug cartels, militant homicidal Islamic Jihadists, bottle-eyed North Korean nuclear ambitionists, and Chinese Communist/Capitalist/Imperialists enough? I was under the impression we are supposed to be a beacon of light for the world? Would anyone like to explain why we are not shining that light on Cuba, without offering some tired nonsense about preventing the spread of Communism?
The Transportation Safety Administration officials who met Mark on his return acted as if he had visited the jungles of Congo or Colombia: "You are lucky to be alive, it's so dangerous there." It's not, but somehow our Government thinks it important that we think Cuba is violent, a threat to the United States. If we ended the embargo the Communist government would collapse with the first real wiff of Consumerism the Cuban people got. But then our Government would have one less boogey man to make us afraid with.
The Communist system is without any doubt inviable. It is even more destructive than Capitalism, the inviability of which hasn't quite played out yet.
Leaving for this trip to Cuba, Mark and his wife Sandra arrived at the Eau Claire airport about 25 minutes before the flight. This is a small airport, more like a small office on the tarmac. They were not allowed to board. There was a later flight, but the United Airlines tickets went from $800 to $2800. Then, on their return, United Airlines had no ticket for them, from Toronto to Minneapolis, unless they wanted to buy a new ticket. They drove instead.
Mark is, like me, after balance, wholeness and healing. Earlier this year, Mark had to pay $2500 for the right to build a garage, in Eau Claire County Wisconsin, USA. The county said the lot line ran through his bedroom. That, and a variance might be required to build a new garage on the site of the old garage, because it was about fifty feet from the road and not the required 60ft. The lot line did not run through his bedroom, and the garage wasn't a threat to the road or the drivers on it, but it cost he and his wife Sandra $2500 to get the county to acknowledge it.
This week I received my latest property tax statement from Hennepin County. Taxes increased 16.2%, about $400. That's not as bad as previous years, one year at 19%, another at 23%, if I recall correctly. In addition, my father recently noticed the county has the house listed under a non-homestead status. As I recall, both my father and I were adamant about homestead status, when we purchased the house. I looked at the mortgage. Sure enough, section 24, "buyer waves all right of homestead exemption in the property," our initials an inch and a half away at the bottom of the page.
A non-homestead status means we can be taxed at a higher rate, liens can be placed against the property, and it's easier for the bank to foreclose. In other words, that is motive for malfeasance, for banks, the financial industry and Government. An opportunity for predation. An invitation to rapaciousness.
I can't recall if I agreed to this or not. If I did, I certainly didn't understand the ramifications of it, and the banker wasn't educating me. It would not have been difficult for this to be manipulated in the Bank's favor. That would be Wells Fargo, by the way, the bank that holds my mortgage. I have friends who work for Wells Fargo. Dear friends. Good people. I want not to have to accuse the bank they work for of malfeasance and rapaciousness.
But then, I hear the banks are cutting small business credit lines in half. Two years after Banks were handing out credit as if it were high fructose corn syrup, you can't get credit unless you've got the assets to back the loan in full. Clearly, the sky gods who control these banks are idiots, that they should set the means for the implosion of the economy, and then tighten up like assholes in a blizzard when it's really spring and time for growth.
There was a time when credit was extended in part according to the character of the man asking for it. But it takes character to be a judge of it, and even if you have character and you can recognize it in others, in this age of International Lending Institutions, a branch banker isn't empowered to loan money based on character. The branch banker is empowered to loan money to any man without character, even if that man is a monster, if that monster happens also to be exceptional at making money.
I've been very angry, the past few days. The other day, as I was attending to the most unpleasant task of unclogging my sewer drain, I shouted twice, "Fuck you, God." Where did that come from? It's not God who rules this world, but men who pursue wealth and power at the expense of everything but themselves. Though God provides a great excuse.
I picked up the Koran last night. I almost put it down after the first page. I would expect the Word of God to start with something about joy, beauty and wonder, not a speech about the terrible chastisements awaiting unbelievers. Such a tone as this could only be set by a man in pursuit of control and domination, which may be expected in a world where murder, rape and plunder are a constant threat. Having grown up in a culture where these are not an immediate threat, I don't want to hear about control and domination and the awful Other. I want to hear about Joy, Beauty, Wonder, Balance, Wholeness, Healing. I want that message to be open to and embracing of the great multiplicity that is the Homo sapien sapien experience.
Here in America, we've tried a balance between Business and Government. We have emphasized both without emphasizing character. Consequently, we've got a Government and and Economic elite almost wholly unaccountable, unresponsive and elevated to an untouchable state. But we the citizenry have more power than we think. Democracy is dependent on a populace with character. It will be dependant upon the character of Americans whether or not we have a system that is accountable, responsive and within reach.
What is my recommendation? I recommend a year long holiday. Not from work, but from taxes and credit. That would assuredly implode both America's and the World's economy. It would take a vibrant and healthy local economy to ride out that storm. At the end of which, I would hope, sky gods would be considerably humbled, and existential threats will have diminished considerably.
Meanwhile, I'm paying my dues to banks, corporations and Government. I will continue, even as I use what they provide less and less. And I will cease to pay when my fellow Americans are fed up with this rapacious, predatory, and disempowering system that is leading us toward a terrible crash and burn, and willing to do something meaningful about it.
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