This last Sunday, my pastor used as part of his message the phrase (who knows where it originated "The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing".
Most of us of a certain age chuckle, of course, as this is the sort of thing that coaches, business leaders, and teachers have been saying for years on end. It is a simple truth, one so foundational that we probably all take it for granted, of course.
But oddly enough, let us take a moment to consider such a statement being made at a church: "The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing".
What is the main thing the church is supposed to be doing? Going into the world and preaching the gospel of Christ and making disciples. Pretty straightforward. And what is the gospel of Christ? That everyone has fallen short of the glory of God through our sin but that Christ died to forgive our sin and that believing in Him, we may have eternal life.
Seems pretty straightforward, right? "The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing".
But what is the main thing for so many churches? The gospel - plus. The gospel plus political activism, the gospel plus social activism, the gospel plus this or that wrong that must be righted.
Any time something becomes "The Gospel with..." it is not the gospel. Or at least the gospel alone. It is tying something to the gospel such that one cannot be discussed (in the context of those propagating it) without the other. In other words, the main thing is not keeping the main thing the main thing, but rather the sort of main thing with a series of very important provisos and riders.
No wonder it feels like for so many churches that they are failing. They failed to keep the main thing the main thing. And without that driving factor, you will neither succeed in business nor win championships - nor actually do the will of God.
Wednesday, July 31, 2019
Tuesday, July 30, 2019
Loss of Reality
We are losing the ability to view and discuss things realistically.
The natural world, of course, runs on realism. We refer that sort of realism as natural laws, or gravity, or the water cycle. A spark hits dry grass, a wildfire is created. If a rock is dropped, it falls. Predators hunt and eat prey. And there are fifty thousands ways for us to die when we mistake reality for the way I want things to be e.g. I cannot fly or breathe underwater no matter how hard I try.
But when it comes to everything else - social interactions, society, finances, political interactions - reality has been driven from the room.
There are any number of ways to define it - political correctness, social consciousness, just plain shutting people down - but the end result is that conversations and dialogues are being forced into narrow, pre-planned channels where debate and discussion are neither welcomed nor tolerated.
Take forest management - a thing close to my heart as it is a constant threat where my parents live. Well managed forests and land - like The Ranch my father has managed for 20 years and that was managed by him and my great uncle for years before that - has some risk of fire (always, of course) but not as high a risk because underbrush has been removed, dead trees thinned out, and the the forest is healthy. But some, any sort of intervention in the forest - a single tree cut, a single underbrush removed - is evil because man destroying the environment (mind you, the forest fire does not just destroy the environment, it completely devastates it.). Also, mind you, the Maidu that were there before anyone also set forest fires to clear parts of the forest for planting. Typically such wisdom would be honored, but in this case it is carefully ignored.
Take what I have just related to any aspect or issue facing us today and, more than likely, you can walk out a similar scenario in your own mind.
Where does this all end up? Two places, really. The first is internal to those societies, where it (eventually) stifles any sort of free thought or free speech or action. Want to see what a society that does not tolerate dissent looks like? Look to the history of the Soviet Union or Communist Eastern Europe, or to the now of Communist China. Eventually the society becomes stagnant because no-one is willing to risk being shouted down (or worse).
The other place it ends up is for those societies that do see things realistically and act accordingly. For them, they do as we do with the law of gravity or hydrology cycle: they take the confines of the rules and work within them to advance their goals and objectives.
Which, unfortunately, usually involves rolling over everyone else that refused to see things realistically.
We can deny gravity exists. But ultimately we cannot escape it.
The natural world, of course, runs on realism. We refer that sort of realism as natural laws, or gravity, or the water cycle. A spark hits dry grass, a wildfire is created. If a rock is dropped, it falls. Predators hunt and eat prey. And there are fifty thousands ways for us to die when we mistake reality for the way I want things to be e.g. I cannot fly or breathe underwater no matter how hard I try.
But when it comes to everything else - social interactions, society, finances, political interactions - reality has been driven from the room.
There are any number of ways to define it - political correctness, social consciousness, just plain shutting people down - but the end result is that conversations and dialogues are being forced into narrow, pre-planned channels where debate and discussion are neither welcomed nor tolerated.
Take forest management - a thing close to my heart as it is a constant threat where my parents live. Well managed forests and land - like The Ranch my father has managed for 20 years and that was managed by him and my great uncle for years before that - has some risk of fire (always, of course) but not as high a risk because underbrush has been removed, dead trees thinned out, and the the forest is healthy. But some, any sort of intervention in the forest - a single tree cut, a single underbrush removed - is evil because man destroying the environment (mind you, the forest fire does not just destroy the environment, it completely devastates it.). Also, mind you, the Maidu that were there before anyone also set forest fires to clear parts of the forest for planting. Typically such wisdom would be honored, but in this case it is carefully ignored.
Take what I have just related to any aspect or issue facing us today and, more than likely, you can walk out a similar scenario in your own mind.
Where does this all end up? Two places, really. The first is internal to those societies, where it (eventually) stifles any sort of free thought or free speech or action. Want to see what a society that does not tolerate dissent looks like? Look to the history of the Soviet Union or Communist Eastern Europe, or to the now of Communist China. Eventually the society becomes stagnant because no-one is willing to risk being shouted down (or worse).
The other place it ends up is for those societies that do see things realistically and act accordingly. For them, they do as we do with the law of gravity or hydrology cycle: they take the confines of the rules and work within them to advance their goals and objectives.
Which, unfortunately, usually involves rolling over everyone else that refused to see things realistically.
We can deny gravity exists. But ultimately we cannot escape it.
Monday, July 29, 2019
10 Years Of Iai
Approximately 10 years ago this week (or as near as I can figure), I walked into my first Iaijustu training. I had only two semesters of martial arts under my belt some 20 years earlier and a single semester of European fencing.
I cannot honestly remember how I found my way to that website now - I had moved about a month earlier and was looking for something to get involved in. I reached out to my-now Sensei and watched a class. I enrolled the next week.
With the exception of very few things (this blog, for example) it is one of the longest activities I have ever kept up with.
What started me, of course, was fulfilling a life-long interest of learning to use a Japanese sword as it was meant to be used (or rather a bokuto, a wooden training sword -we do not use actual live blades) with the fullness of drawing and sheathing (unlike European fencing, which while involving great dexterity always felt slightly contrived to me). But that is only a beginning, and if that is all one looks for, one will leave within a year or two.
What Iai has taught me in the intervening years is a great deal more.
It has taught me about dedication, about practicing something consistently day in and day out, sometimes with no sense of actually moving forward. It has taught me that swordmanship is really just timing and distance - and that everything else in life is also just timing and distance. It has made me study more, instilling in me the lifelong learning I have always enjoyed: kata, kanji, even the powers of observation and thinking on my feet. It has also enabled me to go to Japan two times so far, something I did twice once long ago but now view as an annual goal.
Iai changed my life.
Iai is not done with me yet, nor I with it. I still have much to learn and much to perfect - after all, there is never mastery, only improvement. But comforts me greatly to know that I can invest 10 years into an activity and that it ends up making a meaningful difference in my life.
Here is to 10 more.
I cannot honestly remember how I found my way to that website now - I had moved about a month earlier and was looking for something to get involved in. I reached out to my-now Sensei and watched a class. I enrolled the next week.
With the exception of very few things (this blog, for example) it is one of the longest activities I have ever kept up with.
What started me, of course, was fulfilling a life-long interest of learning to use a Japanese sword as it was meant to be used (or rather a bokuto, a wooden training sword -we do not use actual live blades) with the fullness of drawing and sheathing (unlike European fencing, which while involving great dexterity always felt slightly contrived to me). But that is only a beginning, and if that is all one looks for, one will leave within a year or two.
What Iai has taught me in the intervening years is a great deal more.
It has taught me about dedication, about practicing something consistently day in and day out, sometimes with no sense of actually moving forward. It has taught me that swordmanship is really just timing and distance - and that everything else in life is also just timing and distance. It has made me study more, instilling in me the lifelong learning I have always enjoyed: kata, kanji, even the powers of observation and thinking on my feet. It has also enabled me to go to Japan two times so far, something I did twice once long ago but now view as an annual goal.
Iai changed my life.
Iai is not done with me yet, nor I with it. I still have much to learn and much to perfect - after all, there is never mastery, only improvement. But comforts me greatly to know that I can invest 10 years into an activity and that it ends up making a meaningful difference in my life.
Here is to 10 more.
Sunday, July 28, 2019
Saturday, July 27, 2019
A Few Words From...Hank Williams Jr.
The preacher man says it's the end of time
And the Mississippi River she's a-goin' dry
The interest is up and the Stock Market's down
And you only get mugged if you go downtown
I live back in the woods, you see
My woman and the kids, and the dogs, and me
I got a shotgun, a rifle, and a 4-wheel drive
And a country boy can survive
Country folks can survive
I can plow a field all day long
I can catch catfish from dusk 'til dawn
We make our own whiskey and our own smoke, too
Ain't too many things these old boys can't do
We grow good old tomatoes and homemade wine
And a country boy can survive
Country folks can survive
Because you can't starve us out
And you can't make us run
'Cause we're them old boys raised on shotgun
And we say "grace" and we say "Ma'am"
And if you ain't into that we don't give a damn
We came from the West Virginia coal mines
And the Rocky Mountains and the western skies
And we can skin a buck; we can run a trotline
And a country boy can survive
Country folks can survive
I had a good friend in New York City
He never called me by my name, just hillbilly
My grandpa taught me how to live off the land
And his taught him to be a businessman
He used to send me pictures of the Broadway nights
And I'd send him some homemade wine
But he was killed by a man with a switchblade knife
For 43 dollars my friend lost his life
I'd love to spit some beech nut in that dude's eyes
And shoot him with my old .45
'Cause a country boy can survive
Country folks can survive
'Cause you can't starve us out and you can't make us run
'Cause we're them old boys raised on shotgun
And we say "grace" and we say "Ma'am"
And if you ain't into that we don't give a damn
We're from North California and South Alabama
And little towns all around this land
And we can skin a buck; we can run a trotline
And a country boy can survive
Country folks can survive
Country boy can survive
Country folks can survive
And the Mississippi River she's a-goin' dry
The interest is up and the Stock Market's down
And you only get mugged if you go downtown
I live back in the woods, you see
My woman and the kids, and the dogs, and me
I got a shotgun, a rifle, and a 4-wheel drive
And a country boy can survive
Country folks can survive
I can plow a field all day long
I can catch catfish from dusk 'til dawn
We make our own whiskey and our own smoke, too
Ain't too many things these old boys can't do
We grow good old tomatoes and homemade wine
And a country boy can survive
Country folks can survive
Because you can't starve us out
And you can't make us run
'Cause we're them old boys raised on shotgun
And we say "grace" and we say "Ma'am"
And if you ain't into that we don't give a damn
We came from the West Virginia coal mines
And the Rocky Mountains and the western skies
And we can skin a buck; we can run a trotline
And a country boy can survive
Country folks can survive
I had a good friend in New York City
He never called me by my name, just hillbilly
My grandpa taught me how to live off the land
And his taught him to be a businessman
He used to send me pictures of the Broadway nights
And I'd send him some homemade wine
But he was killed by a man with a switchblade knife
For 43 dollars my friend lost his life
I'd love to spit some beech nut in that dude's eyes
And shoot him with my old .45
'Cause a country boy can survive
Country folks can survive
'Cause you can't starve us out and you can't make us run
'Cause we're them old boys raised on shotgun
And we say "grace" and we say "Ma'am"
And if you ain't into that we don't give a damn
We're from North California and South Alabama
And little towns all around this land
And we can skin a buck; we can run a trotline
And a country boy can survive
Country folks can survive
Country boy can survive
Country folks can survive
Friday, July 26, 2019
Thursday, July 25, 2019
The Collapse Letter XXV: Failing Commerce
17 August 20XX
My
Dear Lucilius:
Our
traffic has dwindled to almost nothing in the two weeks or so since
my last shopping trip – in the past week, I have maybe seen six
cars drive along the road that passes in front of my house.
Our
little town, that had virtually no business in it, has almost none
now. The RV park/bar is still open, but with no fuel and dwindling
alcohol supplies there is little enough left to attract folk. Most
of the RVs have left by now in search of fuel in towns farther away
and I suspect the few remaining will follow – I have been counting
them as I make my daily stroll around town to get out and stretch my
legs. The campground I did my laundry at is still open as well,
although even his supplies are dwindling as well.
Our
post office/gas station has essentially become the post office and
nothing else – the RVs leaving took the last of the fuel and it is
unknown when, or even if, a replacement delivery will be made. The
town gathers once a week now for mail delivery every Wednesday to
parcel out the packages and letters that have been stored up
(interestingly, junk mail still seems to make its way through. Good
for kindling if nothing else).
By
the end of the month, if not sooner, I suspect commerce will have
completely died out here if nothing else changes.
The
InterWeb suggests that the towns north and south of us still have
supplies and are in business, but I suspect that everyone is holding
out because of the risk of having no additional fuel – a round trip
is not less than 50 miles to the nearest town of size and the need
has to be balanced against the risk of wasting the fuel. I have been
constructing a list of things that I think I will need to secure on
one last trip; I keep trying to decide when I have reached the
maximum amount of benefit of the trip versus the risk that things
will start becoming depleted.
The
quiet is amazing.
Without the traffic, the surrounding hills and even the town are almost dead quiet. One can hear the occasional shouts of children or the barking of dogs, or even the sound of cattle farther out. But really nothing else – human voices are kept low or inside and if people are playing music or the news, I surely cannot hear it.
I
have lived through the time that men touched the stars; it seems that
I will now live through the time that men scarcely hear or know their
neighbors.
Your Obedient Servant, Seneca
Wednesday, July 24, 2019
Changing Diet And Lifestyle
My fellow curmudgeon Glen Filthie has reported that his doctor has stated that he is overweight, pre-diabetic, and possibly pre-cancerous.
Welcome to your 50's.
I have to admit that I have been having my own struggles with being post-50. My knee is giving me some problems, which seem tied to my thigh muscle. Actually, both of my knees are grumping at me now for some reason. And there is this lovely twinge in my back that has never been there before.
And yes, I feel overweight and certainly have diabetes in my family. Thanks for the reminder, friend Glen (Do try the bebimbop. You will love it).
It is a good reminder that I need to start changing things and how I do them.
My knees, I truly believe, are in large part due to an increase in my weight - I have put on about 10 lbs and some amount of it is muscle, but some is fat is well, or at least I have not lost the side handles that are attached. No idea on the back, but who knows? Maybe related as well.
So like Glen, I am going to have to change my diet and my lifestyle.
No clear ideas yet, just a sense that I need to do it. After all, with care and management I still have probably 30 good years left in me (or like my great grandmother, another 47). Time to get busy.
Welcome to your 50's.
I have to admit that I have been having my own struggles with being post-50. My knee is giving me some problems, which seem tied to my thigh muscle. Actually, both of my knees are grumping at me now for some reason. And there is this lovely twinge in my back that has never been there before.
And yes, I feel overweight and certainly have diabetes in my family. Thanks for the reminder, friend Glen (Do try the bebimbop. You will love it).
It is a good reminder that I need to start changing things and how I do them.
My knees, I truly believe, are in large part due to an increase in my weight - I have put on about 10 lbs and some amount of it is muscle, but some is fat is well, or at least I have not lost the side handles that are attached. No idea on the back, but who knows? Maybe related as well.
So like Glen, I am going to have to change my diet and my lifestyle.
No clear ideas yet, just a sense that I need to do it. After all, with care and management I still have probably 30 good years left in me (or like my great grandmother, another 47). Time to get busy.
Tuesday, July 23, 2019
Trying To Disappear
I have to confess to you that the longer this year has gone on, the more and more I have been overcome by a desire and need to simply disappear from visibility.
It is not as if I have some amazing reason like my security has been compromised or I have been called out by someone or wrongfully accused or anything like that. It is just that it feels more and more like the world is pushing into my business.
Between my cell phone, my e-mail at work, and various and sundry cameras spread all over, my presence is pretty much known. Even now, Blogger can tell you precisely when I logged on to type this and when I uploaded it. My every financial decision which is not cash based is known and even those which could be cashed based but for which the payment is in a computer system is known.
My house, thankfully, is relatively free of this oppressive observation - except, of course, for all the cell phones herein, the streaming services which know what is being watched, and the utilities which records how much electricity is being expended to keep our summer heated house cool.
In other words, even my retreat is effectively being watched.
I am working on small and minor ways to disappear, of course - every social media account I do not open, every cash purchase I make - all of these are very small acts of resistance against a seemingly all-encompassing foe. But it is not really enough.
Freedom - true freedom, defined as freedom of privacy, the freedom to do something and have no-one know what was done, has almost disappeared in the world as we know it. We are left with the few small crumbs we can eke out, the wattle barriers we throw up in hopes that the Roman juggernaut will enmesh its spears in them and so be unable to attack.
I have added this to my list of goals over the next four years - I may not get there, but at least I can work to find ways to put space between me and the observation system. Any thin layer of padding I can add, any mist I can conjur up, anything that pulls one stake out of my hide, is worth doing.
Free men and women value their privacy. It is only those that value complete control that think they need to know everything about everyone.
It is not as if I have some amazing reason like my security has been compromised or I have been called out by someone or wrongfully accused or anything like that. It is just that it feels more and more like the world is pushing into my business.
Between my cell phone, my e-mail at work, and various and sundry cameras spread all over, my presence is pretty much known. Even now, Blogger can tell you precisely when I logged on to type this and when I uploaded it. My every financial decision which is not cash based is known and even those which could be cashed based but for which the payment is in a computer system is known.
My house, thankfully, is relatively free of this oppressive observation - except, of course, for all the cell phones herein, the streaming services which know what is being watched, and the utilities which records how much electricity is being expended to keep our summer heated house cool.
In other words, even my retreat is effectively being watched.
I am working on small and minor ways to disappear, of course - every social media account I do not open, every cash purchase I make - all of these are very small acts of resistance against a seemingly all-encompassing foe. But it is not really enough.
Freedom - true freedom, defined as freedom of privacy, the freedom to do something and have no-one know what was done, has almost disappeared in the world as we know it. We are left with the few small crumbs we can eke out, the wattle barriers we throw up in hopes that the Roman juggernaut will enmesh its spears in them and so be unable to attack.
I have added this to my list of goals over the next four years - I may not get there, but at least I can work to find ways to put space between me and the observation system. Any thin layer of padding I can add, any mist I can conjur up, anything that pulls one stake out of my hide, is worth doing.
Free men and women value their privacy. It is only those that value complete control that think they need to know everything about everyone.
Monday, July 22, 2019
Parts Are Parts
This weekend, I finally sorted out my parts tool box.
Anyone that has ever owned a home has one of these. It is a collection of the various pieces and parts that either are needed to do a specific task or come with something as an assembly item or you have to buy a quantity of to get the part that you want.
Digging through it was a walk through history. Here were the slides I needed to extract my radio in 1996 and "upgrade" to CD that I never needed again along with the wire connectors in the handy 500 pack. Here also was The Tomb of The IKEA Parts, the ones that are extra but you never really are sure you should get rid of just in case you need them. Nails in the gross and wood screws of various sizes from various projects, from 1/4" nails to roofing nails and many different lengths of screws for the times you "thought" you had the right length but did not. Light bulbs and fuses for cars long sold. The radiator tightener you bought as a stop gap for the car you ended up having the radiator replaced on. Locks with keys and locks with no keys and a combination lock from your wife's high school days that no-one remembers the combination of.
Parts and pieces; pieces and parts.
I sorted through them, trying my best to take a stern "Are you really going to use that? Really?" approach - at which I only gave mediocre performance as I know only too well how six months from now I will need that one screw length and I do not want to risk throwing it away in the event I do need it and then have to buy a gross (to be clear, I have very many of those indeed. No danger of running out). I ended up throwing away a few things and re-organizing the rest.
The tool box, at least, now closes.
As with my parts box, so my life. Too many bits and pieces held on to in the event I might someday "need" them for some undefined purpose. I reorganize and reorganize but, like my parts, eventually I just have to start getting rid of something.
After all, my life, like my tool box, should have the lid be able to completely close.
Anyone that has ever owned a home has one of these. It is a collection of the various pieces and parts that either are needed to do a specific task or come with something as an assembly item or you have to buy a quantity of to get the part that you want.
Digging through it was a walk through history. Here were the slides I needed to extract my radio in 1996 and "upgrade" to CD that I never needed again along with the wire connectors in the handy 500 pack. Here also was The Tomb of The IKEA Parts, the ones that are extra but you never really are sure you should get rid of just in case you need them. Nails in the gross and wood screws of various sizes from various projects, from 1/4" nails to roofing nails and many different lengths of screws for the times you "thought" you had the right length but did not. Light bulbs and fuses for cars long sold. The radiator tightener you bought as a stop gap for the car you ended up having the radiator replaced on. Locks with keys and locks with no keys and a combination lock from your wife's high school days that no-one remembers the combination of.
Parts and pieces; pieces and parts.
I sorted through them, trying my best to take a stern "Are you really going to use that? Really?" approach - at which I only gave mediocre performance as I know only too well how six months from now I will need that one screw length and I do not want to risk throwing it away in the event I do need it and then have to buy a gross (to be clear, I have very many of those indeed. No danger of running out). I ended up throwing away a few things and re-organizing the rest.
The tool box, at least, now closes.
As with my parts box, so my life. Too many bits and pieces held on to in the event I might someday "need" them for some undefined purpose. I reorganize and reorganize but, like my parts, eventually I just have to start getting rid of something.
After all, my life, like my tool box, should have the lid be able to completely close.
Sunday, July 21, 2019
Saturday, July 20, 2019
A Few Words From...John Calvin
“For until men
recognize that they owe everything to God, that they are nourished by
His fatherly care, that He is the Author of their every good, that
they should seek nothing beyond Him – they will never yield Him
willing service. Nay, unless they establish their complete happiness
in Him, they will never give themselves truly and sincerely to Him.”
(HT: Survivalblog.com)
Friday, July 19, 2019
Thursday, July 18, 2019
The Collapse XXIV: Books
14 August 20XX
My Dear Lucilius:
The strangest
thought hit me this afternoon: I may never buy another book again.
Do not
misunderstand. It is not that I will never read another book again:
my rather large library (and some of my wife's) made its way here
with me and now happily lines the walls of my home. In a real sense,
I do not have a library but live in one.
But if things are
trending as they seem to be, I may never buy another one. Because
who will make and sell them? And even if they were made and sold,
where would I buy them?
I remember the
transition over my life, from ordering books from book sales to small
local bookstores to larger chains to national chain and then online
and finally used bookstores. And now the circle may be completing.
But I am at least
fortunate in that I collect books. We are but a hair's breath away
from losing almost all art and culture of the last 3000 years.
Extreme, you say?
Think, my friend: we have spent the last 30 plus years putting
everything into the digital realm. Books? For many, they now live
only on small consoles or their computers which must have power.
Movies? I have a few in physical form that I can see from where I
write you, but for the most part these too are now all electronic or
“streamed”. They need a player as well. Music? My previous
comments holds true there as well: many have some CDs or maybe their
predecessors, but for most their music is totally found on the
InterWeb.
But the last 30
years is troubling in another way too: we have been making our
culture completely electronically and on-line. We have been making
it to be interacted with and viewed online. What happens when there
is not more online?
I write “we” - in point of fact, I have made nothing on-line for entertainment. And rather happily, I can entertain myself (as I know you can as well). So for those such as ourselves, the inability to access anything simply means one less thing to take away from the time we have to do so many other things.
But for millions –
billions, if you count the rest of the world – their ability to
entertain themselves, to learn, to express themselves is tied up in a
media which may very well disappear in the blink of an eye. What
will there be of their entertainment and creative impulses then? How
will they amuse themselves then? Suddenly discover modes and methods
of entertainment effectively banished from their worlds for years, or
maybe forever?
It saddens me,
Lucilius, that with our great technological achievements and all we
have done, that the works of the civilizations of the Greeks and
Romans, Egyptians and Aztecs, will outstrip us yet.
Your Obedient
Servant, Seneca
Wednesday, July 17, 2019
Flying and Driving
I have to admit to you that the thought of flying to go anywhere becomes less and less attractive.
For international travel (and thus, my trips to Japan as long as I can manage them), there is no substitute, of course. But for domestic travel (which I care to do less and less anyway), I have to admit that I am almost of the opinion that I would rather drive.
Sure, some of it is the airport experience: anymore they are crowded, expensive, and awkward to get into. If you are lucky, you can have someone drop you off; if you are less lucky, you are left to your own devices to park far away, thus ensuring you will add another 30 minutes to your time to get home.
To be fair, driving takes more time. It is, on the whole, probably more expensive (as one has to stay overnight along the way). More time, more money - something many of us do not have a great deal of.
But going along with the idea of "Being Where You Are", driving seems to me to be the more complete experience.
When I have driven through a region, I have seen it - perhaps even only once, but I have a picture in my head. I can still see the places that we drove when I was growing up when we went on vacation; I can see clearly the places I drove to in Iceland.
For airplanes, we see very little. We hop from airport to airport and then (mostly) from metropolis to metropolis, with no sense at all of any of the land in between except for what we saw from the plane window. Like our entertainment, like our food, like almost everything now, we have come associate anything that does not immediate meet the need or get us to the point as something which is wasteful in nature.
To some extent (until they ban it), I am sure that I will always have to take planes to get places. But I sure as heck am going to try out driving more where I can. It may not be faster, but it will sure be more enjoyable.
For international travel (and thus, my trips to Japan as long as I can manage them), there is no substitute, of course. But for domestic travel (which I care to do less and less anyway), I have to admit that I am almost of the opinion that I would rather drive.
Sure, some of it is the airport experience: anymore they are crowded, expensive, and awkward to get into. If you are lucky, you can have someone drop you off; if you are less lucky, you are left to your own devices to park far away, thus ensuring you will add another 30 minutes to your time to get home.
To be fair, driving takes more time. It is, on the whole, probably more expensive (as one has to stay overnight along the way). More time, more money - something many of us do not have a great deal of.
But going along with the idea of "Being Where You Are", driving seems to me to be the more complete experience.
When I have driven through a region, I have seen it - perhaps even only once, but I have a picture in my head. I can still see the places that we drove when I was growing up when we went on vacation; I can see clearly the places I drove to in Iceland.
For airplanes, we see very little. We hop from airport to airport and then (mostly) from metropolis to metropolis, with no sense at all of any of the land in between except for what we saw from the plane window. Like our entertainment, like our food, like almost everything now, we have come associate anything that does not immediate meet the need or get us to the point as something which is wasteful in nature.
To some extent (until they ban it), I am sure that I will always have to take planes to get places. But I sure as heck am going to try out driving more where I can. It may not be faster, but it will sure be more enjoyable.
Tuesday, July 16, 2019
39 Again
So The Ravishing Mrs. TB turned 39 this weekend (for the 12th time).
She is off with Na Clann on another adventure (alas, after my last absence from work I am very reluctant to take some more time off so soon) - it is what she wanted as part of her birthday and (frankly) missing hordes of people in the hot Florida sun is something that I can happily do without.
It strikes me as odd, if I think about it. We passed our 26th wedding anniversary this year. I have known her for 27 years. At this point, that is longer than all but my family and a handful of friends. i do not suppose you ever know how certain relationships will work out, unless you try them.
We are reaching that point in our marriage where our responsibilities are slightly dropping off: the oldest will be off soon for her 3rd year college, the middle for her 1st, and the youngest to start high school. It is not quite the empty nest syndrome, but it certainly a predecessor to it for both of us. In a (mere) four years, we will pretty much be on our own.
I am not sure how ready we are for that.
But for now, we do not have to be. All we have to do is celebrate 39 (again).
She is off with Na Clann on another adventure (alas, after my last absence from work I am very reluctant to take some more time off so soon) - it is what she wanted as part of her birthday and (frankly) missing hordes of people in the hot Florida sun is something that I can happily do without.
It strikes me as odd, if I think about it. We passed our 26th wedding anniversary this year. I have known her for 27 years. At this point, that is longer than all but my family and a handful of friends. i do not suppose you ever know how certain relationships will work out, unless you try them.
We are reaching that point in our marriage where our responsibilities are slightly dropping off: the oldest will be off soon for her 3rd year college, the middle for her 1st, and the youngest to start high school. It is not quite the empty nest syndrome, but it certainly a predecessor to it for both of us. In a (mere) four years, we will pretty much be on our own.
I am not sure how ready we are for that.
But for now, we do not have to be. All we have to do is celebrate 39 (again).
Monday, July 15, 2019
The Movie Tangerines
If you have Netflix, I might recommend a movie to you:
It is called Tangerines, a 2013 Estonian-Georgian film. Set in 1992-1993 Abkhazia War, it focuses on a carpenter, Ivo, and his farmer friend, Margus, Estonians who have stayed behind after most of their friends and family have fled back to Estonia. Margus has stayed in hopes of harvesting his tangerine crop, and Ivo is building the crates to hold them.
During the movie, two more characters are introduced: Ahmed, a Chechen mercenary who is wounded and helped by Ivo, and Nika, a Georgian who is wounded in the same incident and rescued by Ivo. Both men are cared for in separate rooms in the same home and both hold a passionate hatred for each other.
The movie becomes an interaction between the crops (Will they get harvested? Will Margus and Ivo be able to leave) and the hostility of Ahmed and Nika.
I cannot tell more without revealing the movie; that said, I would strongly recommend you see it if you have the chance. It asks questions about culture and land and war and reconciliation, but to my mind asks the most poignant and real of all: what do you do as an "outsider" that has lived somewhere for multiple generations to the point that this place feels like home and then war breaks out - how does one abandon a life one has known literally their whole life?
Sunday, July 14, 2019
Praise
May the three springs praise you,
Two higher than the wind and one above the earth,
May darkness and life praise you,
May the cedar and sweet fruit-trees praise you...
May the birds and the bees praise you,
May the stubble and grass praise you,
Aaron and Moses praised you,
May male and female praise you,
May the seven days and stars praise you,
May the lower and upper air praise you,
May the books and letters praise you.
- 10th-11th Century Middle Welsh Prayer, Celtic Devotions, Calvin Miller
Saturday, July 13, 2019
Thursday, July 11, 2019
The Collapse XXIII: High Dudgeon Summer
10
August 20XX
My
Dear Lucilius:
We
are in the high dudgeon days of summer now: heat punctuated by
thunderstorms. My garden is grateful for the rain of course, but it
does make it a bit dicey to go out and do anything during a given
day.
Not
that I let this halt my activities, of course. I have re-organized
everything to the point that I have nothing to re-organize. I have
pulled everything off of its shelf and dusted it. When I have had a
clear afternoon, I have examined the bee hives and thoroughly weeded
the garden.
The
items that I ordered on the InterWeb – at least some of the first
batch – have started to arrive. They, too, are being carefully
filed away. I think perhaps two more week cycles of mail and there
will be nothing else coming.
And
still, I have time left over.
I
have spent more of it lately perusing the InterWeb – not so much
for more things to order, as I have reached my current limit in the
event that this is only a test drive for the real emergency and I
have to continue to exist in the modern economy, as to review what
people are saying out there in the great big world.
In
short, people are uncertain and afraid.
The
government is not helping this, of course. Their press releases are
as vague and reassuring as you would expect any government's to be:
they are “closely monitoring” the situation and urge people to
remain calm. To the contrary, people are not: rumors of shortages
and bank holidays are almost minute by minute occurrences in the chat
rooms and mail lists of the InterWeb where the government does not
seem to reach.
I do
find it somewhat eerie that a great deal of what I can see of
international news reflects the experience here: were I in France or
Russia or Australia, I see much of the same fear and government
response/non-response. People are afraid. They hear rumors of
famine and peril and the inability to feed themselves and the
governments of the world do little – if anything – to resolve
that fear. As if they simply wish it to go away by ignoring it.
Not
surprisingly, the “Survivalist/Economic Ruin” groups on line are
oscillating between a “This is it!” mentality and patting
themselves on the back for having seen this coming. I am not sure of
whether or not “this” is it; what is saddening and (frankly)
deeply disturbing is to see the number of people taking what I can
only interpret as glee in the current mental anguish and potential
actual anguish of their fellow citizens.
It
is one thing to be prepared for any eventuality. It is another to
take pleasure in the actual suffering of others. As Nieztche said,
“Whoever fights monsters should see to it in the process that one
does not become a monster.”
Your
Obedient Servant, Seneca
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