While learning to breathe again

The sticky went smooth

The close went cool

And just like that, I was free

The weather fell from a cliff

And my dreams jumped after it

 

While time looked for me,

Sleep drifted past like redwoods

On my back, beneath dusty curtains

Courting the breeze with care

There I stayed, as day finished

Balancing on that lick of peace

Until night had enough of me

 

Winter has smoky hair, shy of black

The ember eyes, skin like cream

With even more taste of sweat

Under all the wool and leather

Yet she argues like an icepick

 

Fall? Broken by hurry and doubt

Looking away, down, never forward

I wish she'd find our times were good

Instead of imperfect, too short

But she's trapped, even I see it

 

Summer is so intent, so perfect

Trust me, her fury is immaculate

A gaze that withers, even in memory

For some, her beauty bests all of this

But not enough for me, not now

 

Spring has the arms I'd die in

No bouncing, no seething, but a touch

Bowing skin hairs like wheat stalks

Closing in at night, spinning 'round by day

Greeting my waking eyes forever

 

The downside, if you could call it that, is less disquiet. I'm not a great blogger nor otherwise an accomplished writer, but having my finger on the "send" button of my mobile as much as I have saps some will to create. Before this behavior (all those days ago), I clearly recall spending a week or so building up a head of steam on a few topics, weeding out the least-clever of them, then regurgitating a blog entry or windy email when it was ripe. Then again, before I blogged I mainly scowled a lot, occasionally hijacking discussions with friends or my SO to get whatever troubled me out of the way.

 

So...the good old days of silent contemplation? Well, more like griping, and not terribly silent in the scheme of things. Ok, so way back when I wasn't consciously, forcibly light-hearted to draw and keep a following behind 140-character posts. The odd part is this silliness does keep me mellow. It's like being on a school bus with friends on a field trip, where everyone's looking forward to something, the discussion ebbs and flows randomly, and it's ok to dive in or just take a break and watch the world go by under the cover of road noise. A nice, unthreatening interlude between jolts of real life, but not at all memorable.

 

That said, reviewing my ever-growing to-do lists (in my phone, no less) is more agitating than before. These words here and any professional works are all that will remain beyond the circle of my family after I die, yet I seem headed towards an increasingly unexceptional, stream-of-consciousness existence. More reactive, less thoughtful, less...hungry? With the explosion in personalized, diversified media sources, in fact, we have few common points of reference in news, culture, politics, and even less desire to craft any. Debate loses steam, differences seem written off as we sink into respective, hidden spheres of influence.

 

I don't think intertwining my life with others in these ways is bad, however, but it isn't life itself. Further, what I believe makes us great (as a species) is our capacity for dissatisfaction and the will to act upon it. We make war because of it, but also everything that's worth fighting for. This gift can't thrive without a quiet mind, nor spread without passion, hopefully tossing out the 140-character limit.

 

 

I feel like we've been honest, at least with ourselves, and since we're still making payments and feeding the kids we have nothing to be ashamed of. Well, nothing yet -- I can't replace tires on the car, fix anything on the house if it breaks, get new clothes, or pay down medical bills until next month, but maybe then. If the SO's CNA comes through and she finds work, and we manage to split the childcare, and I don't go nuts while she works nights and weekends, and...and...

 

She and I are still going back and forth on the virtues of going forward with her nursing work to finance the remodel downstairs, then getting a renter -- it's permitted, we've done the plumbing, scavenged cabinets, a fridge, and a dishwasher, but the electrical estimates are way too much. Even if we pull this off, it seems like we're on a road to 20yrs of hard labor to feed this beast, and that wasn't in either of our plans (poor, poor us, I know).

 

I also can't say if in so much as a couple of years, however, either of us would be working in this town. I see this "economic crisis" cascading through different levels of global economy -- guest worker remittances drying up in far-flung countries that have nothing to do with mortgages, oil, or car companies, class violence in places where there used to be work nobody even wanted, etc. I can't imagine things will snap back to zero, ever, with American home-driven spending gone for good, so why bet the farm on having dual incomes?
 

Surrendering the house seems, on the one hand, the most flexible solution. On the other, my SO is wise to suggest we're better off energizing rather than fleeing -- doing what we have to in order to rent out the downstairs, work, work, work, and just bank on the economy stabilizing and our neighborhood not becoming a war zone. Be ready for better, rather than open to the worst. These are at least partly self-fulfilling prophecies, besides, aren't they? 

 

Hope breeds hope, panic breeds panic. Nobody remembers either, on the other hand, if they don't turn out to be justified.

 

Our married life's pattern, so far, has been reaction and easy boredom. We've broken and run from unfulfilling lifestyles twice, for example, but at least now I can be honest about these habits and what they've cost us. If we'd stayed in DC, for example, we'd be six years shy of owning our first home, free and clear. Complete with its wet basement and mosquitoes, true, but in the bag. If I'd kept my last new car or my first new motorcycle, for that matter (guess how long ago?), it's embarrassing to consider how much more we would've saved.

 

I'd wager this glimpse of awareness is worth more than eyefuls of abundance, however. Think small, reach close, finish what I start. Rinse, repeat, and we ought to end up someplace good. This adventure might've been worth it, after all.

 

 

I think speculative fiction triumphs on strong characters and exotic stories well suited for those characters. An interesting world portrayed consistently helps a lot, yet only a Vulcan would find an exhaustive walkthrough of weird technologies and cultures watchable in of itself. This is exactly how my two most formative sci-fi franchises (Star Wars and Star Trek) lost their respective ways, but they thankfully seem to be recovering.

 

Star Trek, The Original Series (TOS) became so significant because of just such an ensemble of strong, enigmatic personalities and good-fitting stories, while its vision of the future (including its hemlines) gave it legs, seeding the imaginations of millions. The franchise has suffered over time, however, unable to solidify or discard this formula because (I suspect) it was unintentional in the first place.

See, Star Trek wasn't so much about a cerebral, glorious future but one resembling a sordid past, where the "frontier" of space is arbitrary and fearsome, demanding stubbornness and cruelty. Maybe some...er..."awkward" acting made it click, I'm not sure, but subsequent shows and most of the movies either didn't perceive or couldn't recapture this essence, resorting instead to fanservice and tedious, otherworldly dramas or (worse) shooting for bygone charm by hamming things up.

Somebody -- maybe J.J. Abrams -- figured this out. This sneaky person went even further, however, somehow isolating defining aspects of the principal characters (as opposed to original performances) well enough for this new cast to recreate the same exciting, tense mix found in the first series. As if that wasn't enough, specific character backstories were modified by time travel shenanigans in this plot to better support these qualities...and it works well. Not shabby.

 

What of Star Wars? It's worthwhile to compare the ebb and flow of both franchises in this light. Star Wars worked, originally, because of a solid, basic story and Lucas' talent for stretching resources and technology, forcing him (in the end) to cook everything longer. Either with age or the advanced expressive tools at his disposal, he didn't make many compromises with the prequels and it shows. Their stories are half-baked, characters thin as paper, and generally aren't fun to watch.

 

I really dug the Clone Wars movie and series, however, and hope the mainstream material in Star Wars continues towards some of the better Extended Universe canon, since there are some fun, gripping stories on its fringes.

 

Aaaaanyway...all the applicable stars and thumbs, Star Trek is a good movie. Go see it, and -- yeah -- it's got some twists and turns so stay away from spoilers if it's doable. If there's a sequel or series, they oughta be good, also.

 

Mothers' Day is upon us this Sunday (...or, hadn't you noticed?) so -- naturally -- I'd like to relate some of my grandfather's recollections, since he did most of my raising.

 

My grandfather harbored nothing but scorn for Fathers' Day, firstly, because it came to popularity in his lifetime and, in his eyes, seemed wholly manufactured. As it turns out, however, there was gravity in the movements behind both parents' holidays. For example, each was created to honor those in dire circumstances -- single fathers making good on the one hand, mothers made destitute by the loss of husbands and sons on the other. Both also have significant, anti-war underpinnings since fathers and sons tend to die in them, with mothers generally left to cope in their absence.

 

In my grandfather's youth, in fact, Mothers' Day had a tangible, historical basis. As he described it, folks in his community first gifted or did work for mothers other than their own, specifically elderly women left to fend for themselves after losing husbands, children, and probably livelihoods in the Civil War. Because of his telling of things, in fact, I confused this with Decoration Day for the longest time because the notions seemed so (gruesomely) similar.

 

Many Civil War mothers didn't settle for this sort of charity, however, instead gathering publicly for mutual support and to advocate for lasting peace (the extinction of their own movement, in a way). After some years of this, what we understand as Mothers' Day was established to commemorate their lives and fortitude. Of course, in recent decades these tragic, activist connotations have slipped in favor of celebrating positive mothering, in general.

 

This modern focus rightly benefits women in our own families, but I can't help feeling it draws attention away from exactly the people the holiday was created for -- those who've struggled to raise a families only to lose out, now often on their own. That seems...typical of this age, I suppose: A once-evocative and meaningful commemoration made cute and sentimental. As in, "If I give the SO breakfast in bed, (maybe) flowers, and time to read I ought to be good to go, right?"
 

Ah, well. Here's a poem from one of the founders of the Mothers' Day movement in the US, just to capture some of the flavor of those times. Happy Mothers' Day, one and all.

 

by Julia Ward Howe

 

After a couple of years in SL roleplay I've spent quality time in a few Gorean-themed sims and with a couple of the John Norman books and thought it useful to pass along an observation or two. Gor is bad for you. Ok, that's a bit limited, so let me specific. Gor is very draining in a way -- particularly in the dominant role -- to the point it's hard to enjoy other things to their fullest. My primary support is Norman's books themselves, in the endless descriptions of the degrading existences of his characters. Plenty of type has been expended on the female roles, so I'd like to spend some time on the hapless masters.

 

One my earliest, most important insights into BDSM was its underlying, backwards truth. A dominant serves the submissive. In exchange for trust and devotion a top (should) take responsibility for the bottom's fulfillment. Not "comfort" or "happiness", since the physics of many of these relationships are violent, but...completion. They feed a part of the submissive's psyche they can't (or choose not to) any other way. In most arrangements it doesn't work forever, but that's fine. Hopefully there were good times, and no lasting harm. This is BDSM -- an abbreviation which suggests power, control, and pain but is really about need, understanding, and care.

 

So, what do we have in Gor? Within some cadres of its society, admittedly those most commonly modeled in roleplay, this is almost like what I've described -- there's a master and one or more slaves (usually female, but the boys have some fun, also), and occasionally a free woman in the picture. The problem comes with the rest of this world. The constant job of keeping order and the pall of mortal conflict surrounding Gorean civilization places the master squarely in a detached, cruel role all the time. This is immensely polarizing and, additionally, offers no relief for anyone. 

 

The Gorean master is a grim-jawed, muscle-bound hero, and heroes have sucky lives -- that's why so few, likeable people earn this title in real life. At the lower levels of Gorean society (mostly in the books), this takes on the sinister qualities these situations adopt in real life. The struggle for survival, the hustle of business, turns the working class Gorean into a true slave driver and the Kajira/Kajiri into meat. Even this level of objectification might be fun, however...but only once or twice.

The essential pleasure of being a conventional dominant is totally absent from this picture -- a job well done, a happy, slobbery sub, with personal enjoyment for the top as carefully-staged gravy. Do that long enough -- even in roleplay -- and life (first or second) gets less enjoyable overall. Worse yet, Gorean culture demands so much time and intensity to sustain its muscular image the initiate must alienate themselves from other pursuits (almost cult-like) to fit in.

 

There are good aspects, don't get me wrong. The detailed mythology of Gor offers other, entirely more enjoyable subcultures and even the primary meme can be good fun. I've been strung up as a slave, stalked the countryside as a Panther, and even snuck around as a tansgendered Free Woman, filling the occasional harem and back room with giggles and moans. But living the life? Blecch to you, John Norman. Lastly, it appears the larger Gorean culture looks at the books and their seedier undertones the way Star Wars devotees do the original Lucas material -- inspired, but limited.

Thank goodness even Goreans have a sense of humor.

 

 

My strongest responses troubled me -- anger, annoyance. I expect better of myself, and it took a while to put this together even though suicide is well established in our family history.

 

At the heart of the matter, I struggle with hope and don't need this sort of help. I sometimes have trouble seeing how the lengths we go to will lead to a better future (yet). I hurt, my leg is half-knotted and numb. We have next to no health insurance and a cabinet full of prescriptions. I have no paid days off, ever. There will be no advancement at this job. Why do I need more evidence getting out of bed could be pointless?

 

I'm ashamed to realize I also found this very rude. When the officer I mentioned described other incidents he'd seen and responded to I could feel us sharing the same sort of irritation. This woman's life might've been horrid or only seemed so from that corner of her mind in charge yesterday, but we'll never know. Whatever her gifts or strengths, she never shared them with us on the grass below -- only her mess. 

 

This morning rain fell on the spot where she finished like some kind of regret, with yesterday's brilliant sky all gone as if giving up. I stood next to the mashed grass for a few minutes and reflected on my own, nervous atheism. Could this be a sin, without Hell and God to account? Since life and free will are nature's only true gifts, destroying even your own might be that bad. It's painfully immoral, even without scripture to swing judgment from.

 

If there's a sin without God, however, then I'll have to do the forgiving, so I'll get to it. I wish it wasn't so, just the same.

 

My son warned me not to, calmy pointing out I would likely kill myself as we contrived some speeders for his LEGO  stormtroopers. The best response I could manage was that pride needs both obligation and excess to endure, and I suspect pride is what gives us the desire to be better than animals.

 

Or motorcycles. Motorcycles help lots, also.

 Yessssss...! I'm *bitchy*! Here we go:

 

*Sigh*. Better. Much better. iTunes is done sync'ing, and find/cpio has finally moved the podcasts it misplaced yesterday back to where they belong. Off to work!

 

 

I could say this brings back memories, but honestly it's mostly better than other circus-related experiences I've had. The Ringling Bros' extravaganza was an annual fixture in DC growing up (the only outside-the-house, kid fun my grandparents could think of) but always seemed exhausting and bittersweet. A genuine, three-ring circus is a wonder to behold, but that's precisely the problem -- even thirty years later I remember being unable to focus on anything because of the madness of it all, usually bitching about the noise and wanting to leave early. 

 

(...Then there was the year my grandmother was half-carried there with a just-broken hip and my grandfather stepped off the end of a bleacher, some 10ft up, landing on the Armory concrete and a hospital bed for a few weeks...wait...ok, so, I was limping to the show today...er, never mind...).

 

Anyway, a much happier, more memorable example was The Big Apple Circus, when it toured to DC maybe two decades ago. By that point going to the show was the grudging attempt of a teenager to humor his now-ancient, widowed grandfather (or perhaps to avoid another night of anecdotes...). But...it was awesome. The low, encircling bleachers, the single ring, the acts right in front, above, all around us were pretty magical, even for that non-kid. It made me...happy, and I remember Granddad looking over at me and knowing he'd done right, and me understanding how good that was.

 

Today I marked that same moment with my son and daughter, and I hope it stays with me forever. What can I say? Some things change, others stay the same, but a few, excellent things are both, maybe neither -- they thankfully just are.

 

 

I used to think these technologies purified debate, bringing people together, informing, and enabling in satisfying, new ways. Now I suspect they mostly stoke and front-load people's opinions with honed, degrading language, isolating more than anything. I can see why both when traversing interwoven online discussions or dealing (in person) with people immersed in these cultures -- it's about power or, rather, the lack of it.
 

The modern worker is isolated in many ways -- smaller families, greater (often mandatory) mobility to follow opportunities, more members of the family working outside the home and at an earlier age, etc. These circumstances deprive folks of validation, so such settings help them grow it back. I say "grow" because you get to practice in these communities. You start out without cred, learn the insider language, post a few solid topics, down a few unwary opponents, and you're on your way. 

 

Respect rolls in, over time, even if you're the fanboy, the nutjob, or the wuss. Even these labels wear well, because they're yours, a solid identity among peers, far more meaningful than a cube number, interstate exit, or a cul-de-sac devoid of people outside well-lit homes. More eager newbs, more validation. More unfaithful, more conquests. I've been immersed in this lifestyle for half my life, but now the rest of the world is wired, able to use a web browser, and buzzing with opinions this smells like it should: Judgmental, drama-hungry, and rude.

 

The only all-digital social medium I find genuinely useful is instant messaging (text, voice, or video), especially in hosted realities (MMO's and SecondLife) because they add non-verbal cues. In these settings one has to think on their feet, be respectful, and are rewarded for brief, to-the-point statements in a flow of conversation they can't monopolize. Anybody can spend hours pounding out their next, A-bomb-like missive on their favorite discussion forum, in contrast, derailing topics and exhausting good will.

 

The good news, however, is that I did find all the things I was looking for. The Internet has grown beyond data, even knowledge -- it has become the fabric of society in the developed world. This bodes well for our competitive needs -- to communicate, find what we need, and keep up with the wider world. We won't be more culturally mature, however, as long as our frameworks of discourse remain literate, literal playgrounds, dominated by bullies and princesses rather than ideas.

 

 

There are edge cases, however. I know a few, and I've been this kind of person. Troubled by the possibility they're more of the problem than solution in situations, yet not ambitious (or bitter) enough to change. Given time, they make choices which serve to isolate them, in preparation for who-knows-what anonymous end. This sounds like depression, social anxiety, or other terms for "grumpy" and "shy", but perhaps it's more an odd pact of nature and the mind.

 

Consider this: It's amazing what folks accomplish when they think they're worth something. If one is lonely and can't talk themselves into being outgoing, they reek of it and remain so because of how that affects others they encounter. If they place themselves in social situations and don't set the stakes too high, that stink wears off and -- voila -- they're not lonely after a while. It's an easy recipe, yet many act as if such challenges are diseases and can't bring themselves around.

 

Diseased elements of many species self-select for personal extinction, for the benefit of the whole. Collectives (herds of ungulates, schools of fish) take this further by maintaining a tight, mobile core population that physically abandons the feeble and injured. Therefore, what are people doing when they accept socially significant failings as beyond control? I think...I fear, in the case of some I love...they're trying to decide if they belong alive on a subtle, animal level.

 

A coherent belief, supported by observation, yet triggering a response as old as evolution itself. How wrong, yet right it is.

 

Dear Mr. President,

 

Please pay off our mortgages. I hear tell the net cost for all of the bailout and economic stimulus stuff in the pipeline right now is around US$10 trillion, the value of almost all of the home mortgages out there, so I figure why not cut to the chase? Sound a little nuts? I get that, but hear me out.

 

I bought a house here in Seattle and I think I paid too much, but I've been making the payments. Thing is, that was two years ago and the company I was working for has since closed down. I make a lot less now because that's how things are going -- lots of folks are looking for work, and there aren't many employers for them. I'm pretty sure my next job will pay less than the one I have now, as well, if there's a "next" job when my current employer goes out of business, downsizes, or whatever. 

 

That's the thing, isn't it? Our standard of living is going down, not may be but is. The US doesn't produce anything the rest of the world wants and consumer spending (alone) can't do the trick, so here we are. What's left of the middle class is toast unless something big changes, and in the case of homeowners the number one noose around our necks is our mortgages. We can't spend nor invest or plan for the future in any way if we're throwing our declining wages at these.

 

So I had an idea. Rather than fork over this money to banks with all the bloodshed over oversight, executive pay, etc., try this:

 

I understand property values are almost always less than mortgages, but that's what the banks should get (I suspect, more than they deserve). What about home equity loans and such? Eh...I'm not sure, but they should probably stick around. 

 

I like this because the banks get a bunch of cash related to the real value of their assets and consumers get to keep those assets and regain the power to purchase, save, and invest. I see how ridiculous this sounds on one level -- a massive giveaway and seizure of bank assets, but...c'mon. Those assets are worth a lot less than they used to be and already piling up at auction while major, now-insolvent banks aren't about to explode with credit for businesses and consumers.

 

A lot of people got mortgages they couldn't afford, I realize that. There ought to be some means testing, sensible limitations, and folks in bankruptcy should have to finish that process before being eligible for this (if at all). There are a few, not-so-hard-working people who will get away with murder this way, but consider one more thing: Those trillions of dollars are on the way shore up banks and investment firms because they chose to make those boneheaded loans. They may not have known what would happen, but they also didn't care.

 

Anyway, when I put it all together, if that kind of money is needed to save this country from disaster -- mass unemployment, starvation, social breakdown, etc. -- where should it go? To banks and investment firms, with their current track record, or the average homeowner, already committed to their families and future by signing up for a piece of the American dream (their homes)? I think I'm done with banks and investment firms for now, and I hope you are also, Mr. President.

 

Thanks so much, and please let me know if I may provide any additional information.

 

As with all neat ideas, I'm at least a decade late (over three, in this case) -- Bicameralism, first suggested by Julian Jaynes in the 1976 book The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind. The author cast a wide, multidisciplinary net to explore why humanity jumped from small, scattered communities and written accounts of people devoid of introspection and self-consciousness (e.g., the oldest books of the Bible, the Epic of Gilgamesh, the events of the Illiad) to what we have today. 

 

Anyway, here goes. When considering technology as it's applied in real conflicts among civilizations, a few things stand out:

 

There is another sweetener I have in mind, as well. When encountering an alien civilization for the first time a seasoned space-farer may make useful observations about their capabilities and technological focus, but these won't be perfect. Even if sensor technology is uber, similarly-worldly civilizations will likely take steps to obscure strengths and weaknesses. Additionally, some civilizations will just be (for lack of a better phrase) weird. Incompatible, in other words -- where the parties involved may not perceive each other as sentient, if at all.

 

It stands to reason, therefore, a player can only compare their technology with another's through alliance or repeated contact. An approachable way to depict this might be a capability estimate summary -- metrics alongside a player's own, accented with confidence values/colors, perhaps accompanied with research times ahead/behind. If I could make it fair, I'd go even further to create tiers (spheres?) of civilizations to determine which players may contact each other directly at all, suggesting a cultural geometry.

 

As I said, however, I'm probably not up to this sort of game (if that's even the word for it), but it's fun to talk about this stuff.
 

 

Most RTS-style games I've played use tech trees which creatively impact one's strategy due to time and other inputs, which is probably good. This disagrees with me in the same way instant battlefield communication does, however, because both phenomena equalize players in unrealistic ways -- well understood, precise progressions of technology have never been the norm. People seldom can anticipate what to develop beyond immediate concerns because the environment defining utility and need is also in flux.

 

Tech trees generally also define their elements in terms of metrics common to all players -- destructive power, speed, endurance, modes of attack, etc. Special/unique units and capabilities are also a staple but these seldom transform gameplay or they would be considered unfair. This isn't a bad thing by itself, but the shared perception of it is. If everybody knows the landscape of unit tiers and upgrades then "technology" is reduced to a race for particular, routinely employed goals for veterans and a source of misery for newbs.

(EDIT: An associate put this last concern more succinctly (as usual): "The problem with tech trees are they are the same for every game played past the first. Later version of Civ put some work into fixing that by scrambling the order of things and putting fog-of-war on the tech tree.")

• Make it really huge, as in WoW or EvE. This encourages players to diversify and replay, both to explore individually and experiment with party dynamics (in strategy simulations this should manifest as unit diversity).
• Hide and/or fiddle with the tech tree dynamically, as we see in later Civilization titles and probably a few others.

What draws me more, particularly in the sci-fi genre, is how players respond when facing opponents they can't quantify. An unfortunate, real life example are the first encounters between (mounted, armored) Conquistadors and Native Americans, where each was otherworldly to the other. The technological/cultural mismatch was so profound none (leastwise on the receiving end) could have forseen it. Science fiction is often trying to pull off this eye-widening experience, and I'm positive humanity's first extraterrestrial relations won't disappoint in this sense.

 

Yeah,so...I've got an issue with tech trees. What else could there be, I ask? That would be part two...