The Dayshift

Ramblings on education (not very well organized or even thought out)

2010-07-11T16:03:00.004-05:00

I've been thinking about the profession of teaching lately. Not as an occupational choice, although I did consider that for awhile after grad school before I got my present Job at the state as an economist, but just the whole movement for performance pay and all that. I think its idiotic. There are progressive voices in the Minnesota Teachers Union who are getting behind the idea of performance pay. I think it will make public schools an even more undesireable and inhospitable place to send our kids. Stanley Fish wrote a series of articles on performance pay in the New York Times

http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/06/21/deep-in-the-heart-of-texas/?ref=opinion

http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/06/07/a-classical-education-back-to-the-future/

http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/06/28/student-evaluations-part-two/?ref=opinion

I think the articles are really good. But, I am and have been a stanley fish fan for awhile. Usually he writes on philosophy and law, but these two columns are on educastion and explain why the idea of merit or performance pay for teachers is abhorrent to me.

My dad, a teacher, always said that everyone has an opinion on education, but no one listens to the teachers. All I know is that with the way public education is going, as a parent, I would only reluctantly send my son to a public school. As long as we can afford it, he will get an education similar to what I gave myself, after public education. And, my public education of yesteryear was so much better than what "progressives" (in and out of the union) are offering in public education today.

Standardization is what the word says it is. Why would anyone want to standardize their child. Pay based on performance assumes students learn from teachers. Students learn from curricullum and the curricullum of Public education is all screwed up because of assessments and testing. Perhaps, in reality, only a small number of students can ever really get a "classical" education, but I don't believe that is true. I believe that the "progressive" trend in education is driven by the same trends that created public education in the past. Corporations, industrialists, and the military don't want a population of people with the ability to think critically. What they really want are pieces, automatons, that are standardized and that don't think, but instead take the words handed down to them from experts as absolute truths that are beyond questioning.

That is what public education is all about and the relationship between student and teacher . The teacher that hands out these truths to the students most efficiently will recieve his or her reward in the form of "performance pay." So, my opinion on education and teachers is that teachers are not that important. Really, the panacea where we have an education system filled with great teachers is not ever going to happen. But that does not mean we cannot have a good education system. Students, or kids, can learn, with or without the help of good teachers. They will even learn despite a bad teacher. Learning to read and do math is not that hard. We will learn it almost automatically with just a little prodding.

Public education should spend much more time emphasizing what it means to be a good citizen in America and less time worrying about where individuals fall in relation to their peers in terms of reading writing and arithmetic. That stuff will happen anyway and some students are going to better at it than their peers. But all students could use more prodding in order to learn to ask the right questions and about thinking what it means to live a good life in the community they are in. For education, curriculum and the institution are what matters and that is why we chose a Waldorf school over Public Education for our son and why we left MN Waldorf for City of Lakes Waldorf after the first grade. We left MN Waldorf for City of Lakes Waldorf, not because of either teacher we had, Mrs Cousins or Mr. Harris. We left MN Waldorf because of how MN Waldorf treated our son's teacher Ms. Cousins - they fired her. If an institution does not respect teachers, then it cannot value community.

I think the same of Public schools. Teachers need to be respected and thought of as part of the community. They should not be blamed for everything that is wrong in the community (Parents and the community blame teachers and schools and teachers blame parents and the community -- both are wrong! We are all in this together). That, in a nutshell (in my humble opinion) is what is wrong with Public education. And performance pay or merit pay will only increase the divide we have between schools and community that has become epidemic in public schools, in addition to creating a divide among teachers.

I am all for raising teacher pay and benefits, but it should be raised for all, not the few who we attempt to objectively measure performance with subpar methodologies that reveal little about teacher performance. You cannot come up with an objective measure of teacher performance, because the benefits from a good education are not revealed until many years after graduation.

Teachers have a hard job, no doubt about it. I really do respect what they do and the challenges they face. I know there are challenging students and I am not so niave to think that some families just don't provide a safe and secure home conducive to learning. I also know that some kids don't have a chance from the get go. Finally, I really don't think I have the answers. There are no answers. What I'm saying is that teachers blame parents, families and societies for the fact that some kids drag down the test scores or don't perform is school. Of course they are right in some ways. Teachers also blame other teachers. But teachers are human... And parents, society and the community, well they blame schools and teachers for the low performance. I think we are so far from solving the problem, partly because we are so focused on individual performance. Communities need to take ownership of schools.

Unions are not perfect, but they provide solidarity. Teachers need to stick together and they also have to back each other up. Sometimes that means sticking up for a crappy teacher. The problem we have in schools and society is that we are training kids to compete. We think if only we can get kids reading by age three, or meeting all these assessment goals, then these kids will be able to compete with some kid in India or China. We educate kids to send them off to NYC or Los Angelas, Moscow, Berlin or Shanghai. What we need is for communities to want the kids to grow up and stay right where they are. To become members of the community. We want schools to learn as much about the kid as the kid learns about the community and the world in school. Then, for that kid tha can't read in the fourth grade, who fits the special Education class, or the ten kids, twenty kids, whatever... The community takes ownership of them. They know them. They aren't just kids failing in school, because they are learning about how to be good citizens and community members. The community takes care of their own. A school needs to be judged as a whole not as a collection of individual parts.

The purpose of a public school (we should really call them community schools, public is or state is the wrong word) should be to raise people to live in the community the schooll resides in. A community finds a place for the good and the bad. Everyone fits in, misfits and all. All kids can learn. I really believe that. All kids don't have the same aptitudes, experience, or interests. All right, some kids have serious disabilities. The community has to figure out how to take care of those as well. But, special ed, or most kids in special ed, is not a disability. These kids are a challenge and public schools fail them everyday. Communities fail their families and then schools compound the problem with the kids. We drug them and put them in environments that are not conducive to learning and put some label upon them.

Again, I don't know anything. I'm just a guy with an opinion that sometimes talks like I know a lot. Gut feelings, you know: reading is not that hard; math is not that hard and all kids have a genius inside them somewhere waiting to get out. Some of it gets out in really devious ways because so many institutions and mentors in their lives have failed them -- including schools.

My opinion is that public schools succeed in what they are intended to do. What they are not intended to do is to bring out the diversity and random genius that all of us have for different gifts tot give back to the community. Schools actually are designed to destroy those gifts and make each of us the same -- automatons that don't know how to think about something like the BP oil spill or how facebook affects all of our lives in positive and negative ways, or where our food comes from and what it means to eat, or what is happening to habitat around the world or how to take care of those we live next to, etc. But, schools do produce standardized automatons that know how to take information from an expert and consider it as a truth. Standardized automatons that know answers, but not how to ask questions. Those that fail in schools or can't get the answers are the rejects and there is a place in prisons waiting for them.

I'm speaking about larger trends in education, schools and our society and not necessarily individual schools. Although, I think we are all impacted by these larger trends. Most public school teachers are the product of public school education. Teachers training at state and private colleges are geared toward the production of teachers that meet the criterea that we set for our schools. Not many (now, i'm going to sound a bit pompous and elitist although its not my intention) teachers have the capability of realizing how their own education shapes their view as educators and how that undermines, not only my view of what we need community, but how it supports the continuing production of automatons that are unable to think critically and ask questions. In other words, teachers, just like the rest of us, are automatons as well.

Its rare that a teacher comes a long that actually can teach how to formulate questions, instead of providing answers to problems in a book and on a test. But, don't get me wrong. This is not about teachers. THere are great teachers and these teachers are of immense value. I think there are probably more than I am giving credit for. But these teachers are mavericks and are usually in a lot of trouble with administrators and members of the community. They are not supported by the school in most cases. Like anyplace else in society, its the misfits that we can learn most from. At least that's what I think.

And, believe me, I don't say this as someone that is a misfit in my occupation. I am a cog in the machine like the majority of us, an automaton. Filling a role to keep the maching running, even with the knowledge that eventually it all collapses around us as we are constantly reminded by the small tragedies that keep popping up. God, I sound depressing, don't I.

All right. I will stop, because its still a great world. I hope my son can figure it out, what I could not. How to be a part of a community and keep that community strong and sustainable while living in peace with neighboring communities and the environment. Some sort of utopia, I guess... The articles by Fish were about college, but high school education is not that far behind.

I imagine, in the future, we will eventually get to some sort of internet public school education and people will purchase education for their children on broadband services in a home school environment with state testing to make sure parents, families and communities are meeting set standards. Teachers will paid by large corporations to provide lectures on UTUBE or some broadband service. These teachers will be highly paid actors. Union teachers will be a thing of the past although there will probably be a job market for tutors working at testing centers and preparations for testing. It will all happen seamlessly, I am afraid to say, but can't help but predict. Scary future, but that's where the information age is leading. Along side this movement will be something else building that rejects what is being presented to us on television, movies, media, the internet and in our schools. That something is still being defined. I'm not sure what that something will eventually look like or if it will be devoured by the maching. But, I think that something will probably be based around community and a downplaying of individual accomplishments. I think. But, what do I know?

The Eco-Nomics of Eco-Activism

2010-04-30T15:06:00.003-05:00

Have you ever noticed that the prefix, Eco, in Eco-Activism is the same as the prefix in Eco-Nomics. “Duh!”, you are probably saying, "but the Eco in Eco-Activism actually stands for Ecology. "

Well, economy and ecology are very similar words. The origins of the two words stem from the Greek words oikonomia for economy and from oikologia for ecology. The “nomia” in “oikonomia,” for economy, means management. The “logia” in “oikologia,” for ecology, means “the study of.”

The common Greek root word, or prefix, in both economy and ecology is “Oikos,” which means household or dwelling place. Thus, economy translates literally into “household management” and ecology translates literally into the study of houses, dwelling places or habitation. In Ecology we try and understand the household and in economics we attempt to manage it. However, the focuses of the two fields of study differ dramatically.

In Ecology, the dwelling place we are studying is the entire planet Earth. Ecology is a study of the whole system, called the biosphere, and attempts to study how different physical systems in the biosphere interact with each other. There are plant, animal, fungi and microbe kingdoms. These kingdoms exist in oceans, on land and in the soil, and in the atmosphere. Then there are various cycles that are studied in Ecology that track the movement of various Elements through the different kingdoms and systems in the process of living and breathing organism as they go through life from birth to death to decay. One such cycle is the carbon cycle that studies how carbon recycles through the entire system from plants to animals to soil and the atmosphere. Other important cycles studied by ecologists are the nitrogen and the sulfur cycles which study similar interactions between Earth systems including plants, animals, soil, oceans and atmospheres. All of these systems are contained in the biosphere that contains the entire cycle of life on our planet Earth and for the most part have been relatively stable over thousands of years.

Economics, which is the study of “household management,” has a much more narrow focus than ecology. Economics focuses on the human household and doesn’t account for how the human households interact with other life-forms on the planet.

Economics is split into two distinct fields, micro and macroeconomics. Microeconomics focuses on individual households and firms and their interactions in marketplaces. Microeconomics focuses on the choices households and firms make in markets. This is where we find the demand and supply curves describing different markets.

Macroeconomics studies our entire economy when all households and firms in the economy are added together. When looking at all the firms and households as they interact with each other in Markets, we can get snapshot views of the entire economy. This can tell us the size and the health of the economy through its size, which is measured by Gross Domestic Product (GDP). GDP can be measured in a number of different ways.
First, it can be measured by the total revenue of all firms. Firms produce goods and services to be sold in the market for which they receive Revenue. The total revenue all firms receive is equal to GDP. Second, GDP can be measured by total household spending. Household purchase the goods and services produced by firms by spending in the market for goods and service.. Total household spending is equal to total revenue received by firms and is also equal to GDP. In economics we always balance our accounts and total spending by households has to equal total Revenue of firms. Likewise, in the market for the factors of production. The Factors of production are Land, labor and Capital. Households supply land, labor and Capital to be sold in the market for the factors of production. Households receive Income from this market. And so we come to the third way to measure GDP which is that total household income also equals GDP. Firms purchase the land, labor and capital from the market for factors of production and pay wages, rent and interest for each of these factors. The fourth measure for GDP is through adding the total wages, rent and interest paid by firms in the market for factors of production which also must equal GDP. Total household income is comprised of all wages, rent and interest received from firms and thus the two measures must be equal.

This picture of the economy is self-contained. By balancing all the accounts it appears that it is sustainable and can go on forever as the flow of goods and services and the flow of dollars circulate between households and firms and the market for Goods and Services and the factors of production. The place for ecology in this snapshot view of the economy is off in the corner in the factors of production where it is represented by an endless supply of Land or resources.

The way economists manage the entire household represented by the entire human economy is by making it grow. All this is fine and dandy as long the economy remains small in comparison to the entire household or dwelling place for all of Earth’s inhabitants. But when the economy increases in scale or size, it eventually starts having an impact on the ecology, or the larger household called the planet. Eventually, the size of the human economy begins to have dramatic impacts on the systems studied in ecology, such as the carbon cycle, and on other plants and animals.

If we wish to grow the economy, we have to use more resources. We are presently in the midst of a recession. Unemployment hovers around 10% and most forecasts don’t predict significant improvements in the unemployment rate this year and perhaps not until beyond 2011.

To grow an economy we have to increase GDP. Increasing GDP means more jobs for people and greater incomes. Many things can increase GDP including cleaning up after an environmental disaster such as Chernobyl, Bhopal or Exxon Valdez oil spill. The ironic thing about keeping our economy healthy is that the current crisis that we are experiencing from the large oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico caused by the explosion of an off-shore British Petroleum drilling site, will actually increase the size of the GDP. Cleaning up environmental messes produces jobs and puts people to work.

To put more people to work, we have to create goods and services to trade in marketplaces and this is impossible to do without using more resources or factors of production. We will need more coal, minerals, food, fossil fuels, etc. And from the increased use of these resources, in addition to producing more goods and services, we will produce more pollution, or what we call negative externalities in economics. These pollutants include greenhouse gases such as CO2. Thus the economy has a significant effect on the carbon cycle in the biosphere. As our economy grows we also destroy more habitat contributing to the disturbing increase in extinction rates we are currently facing on the home or dwelling place we call Earth.

Eco-activism pits environmentalists against economists. The dilemma we face is the tradeoff we make as a society between protecting the environment and growing the economy. Our economy requires us to use resources as a factor of production, so we need to manage the use of these resources in a more sustainable way

Sometimes we hear economists and politicians refer to the “Green” economy as an alternative to the traditional economy. The hypothetical green economy will produce less negative externalities, or pollution, and proposes a solution for how can we grow our economy without producing more carbon that contributes to greenhouse gases causing climate change or global warming. The only means for doing this is to use less fossil fuel. One way is to make our economy more efficient. We need to produce more goods and services using less factors of production, specifically fossil fuels. We could have a fleet of vehicles with higher mpg, more mass transportation and less use of personal vehicles, better insulated houses, etc. However, Hybrid and electric vehicles come with batteries made with heavy metal pollutants such as lead and mercury and will need to be recharged on the electric grid requiring the use of more coal to power our electrical power plants. For our electrical power-plants we can find substitutes for coal or fossil fuels that don’t produce carbon such as nuclear, wind and solar. However, each of these substitutes comes with a new set of pollutants that, in some cases, such as nuclear, may be even more harmful than the production of CO2.

What this shows us is that even a “green” economy doesn’t necessarily remove us from the tradeoff between protecting the environment and growing the economy. One of the most perplexing problems we face in the world today is how do we continue with our present lifestyles while allowing more people to join the standards of livings that are common in affluent developed countries around the world, such as the United States, how we can do this while protecting our environment from more harm.

An honest economist would tell you that we cannot, that we need a new model for “household management.” There is a tradition of this in economics. Economics used to be referred to as the dismal science, because Thomas Malthus and David Ricardo proposed such concepts as the law of diminishing returns and studied population growth in relation to a fixed set of resources. Malthus and Ricardo were answering social utopians of their day who proposed that human society could live in harmony with each other without all the poverty that existed in the world at the time. What Malthus and Ricardo did not predict or understand was the ability of the economy to grow.

The question we need to ask now is how much further can the economy grow and how much impact can the biosphere take in regard to the various cycles affected by the growing human economy. I think most of us know intuitively that we are near the limits of this growth.

Most economists today, however, are not in the tradition of Malthus and Ricardo. Instead, they believe in the Utopian vision of modern economics represented by the self-contained and sustainable system found in economic theory that demonstrates a healthy economy. Unemployment? No problem, grow the economy. There is debate for how we should grow economy among economists (should we increase government spending, or cut taxes? print more money or raise interest rates?).

A requirement for Eco-Activism should be to understand not only Ecology or the study of our dwelling place planet Earth, but also economics and household management. But, this also means expanding economics narrow focus of the human economy into a wider focus of the human economy in relation to all other living systems in the biosphere.

The Last Nighmare

2010-04-23T10:51:00.004-05:00

He thought he was waking in the night. There was an eerie quietness surrounding him and he felt chilled as if he had kicked the blankets off of him sometime during the night. His entire body was strangely numb and he could not seem to move his arms to reach the blanket and pull it back up over him. It was as if his arms were asleep from being pinned beneath him as he slept. Not only were his arms asleep, but also his legs and the rest of his body as he realized he could not turn over.

When he opened his eyes his first thought was that he must still be sleeping and that he was dreaming for it was not night, but daytime instead. The sun shone through drifting dust and particles in the air and he thought it must be mid or late morning. He seemed to be lying on a floor in a room or a building that was in shambles. There were bits of glass laid on top of brown tile in front of him and what looked like torn sheetrock in various sizes scattered throughout the room. There was a boy’s face turned toward him not too far away. His pleading eyes were looking directly at him. He face was covered in blood and his throat seemed to be ripped wide open. He could not hear any noise but his mouth seemed to be straining to say something or scream. His arms and legs appeared to be flailing uncontrollably for a few short moments and then they stopped. The boys eyes stayed locked on his own eyes, but his mouth suddenly closed and his face went slack.

Beyond the boy, he could see more blood and body parts. He was sure he was dreaming, now, but if he was, this was the strangest and the most realistic nightmare he could remember ever having. He was acutely aware of the silence in the room and his inability to move as well as the numbness and cold that fell over his entire body. He could see movement not too far away and someone crawling through the rubble beyond. Her face reminded him of his bistro at the coffee shop he visited each morning. As she crawled he could see her entrails trailing behind her and her breasts dangling by bits of skin and tissue and dragging on the ground beneath her. Her whole chest appeared to be ripped open and organs and large amounts of blood fell out beneath her body as she continued her agonizing crawl. She appeared to be screaming, but still he heard nothing. When she collapsed on the ground her body was still and she moved no more.

With great determination he tried to lift his head so he could see more around him, but his body would not respond to his commands. His view of the room remained the same and he could only sense the movement going on around him. There was a large twisted metal beam stretched out on the floor in front of him and he could imagine from the direction that it lay that it must continue across his body and that explained why he could not move. He had the sudden fear that he was paralyzed and he began to scream for help, but he could hear nothing come from his mouth. He was fully engulfed in silence.

The sky seemed to be open above him as the sunshine continued to drift in and out of the dust and floating bits of paper around the room. He could see more body parts strewn throughout the brown tile, sheetrock and shards of glass in front of him. There were several limbs and what looked like the back of a head separated from its body. There was what appeared to be a woman’s foot with painted nails covered in dust and spots of blood lying on a round black waitress tray as if it were being presented for dessert to diners.

Two feet shuffled through the rubble just beyond the fallen bistro. Slowly two arms came down and turned over the bistro and then the arms rose again and the feet shuffled on toward the boy. The arms came down again and then knees and a woman’s body and face came into view. She turned the boys face away from him and toward her and then she screamed, but again he heard nothing. She collapsed on top of the boy and protruding out of her back was a large piece of metal that looked like a piece of a window frame. Blood spurted from the wound in her back straight up in the air, six inches or more, in rhythmic waves, but slowly subsided and eventually, her body also became still.

He felt relieved that the boy’s eyes were no longer looking at him and he waited for the nightmare to end. He wanted to wake up, but the images surrounding him had appeared too vivid to be a dream and would not go away. He could recall having other dreams in the past where he was fooled into believing they were real, because of a similar vibrant, though he was sure less horrifying, imagery. He focused on the hope that it was a dream and waited to awake and move once more. But, in all of his memory he could never recall a nightmare that was this disturbing and chilling in its impact and he wondered what the meaning of it could be in relation to his life. Was the dead boy a symbol for his own childhood and the woman laying on top of the boy his own mother? Or, were they a symbol for his present life with his three children and wife. He felt a sudden urgency to wake and reach out for his wife lying next to him in the bed.

He wanted to run from his room to his each of his children’s bedrooms to see them resting peacefully in their own beds. He shut his eyes tight and waited, then slowly opened them and surveyed the same gruesome scene over again.

The dust and particles continued to drift in the air and the sun continued to shine bright between them. Suddenly, something large came into view several yards away. It was falling and appeared to be part of a wall. It hit the floor silently, but he felt the vibration through his cheek resting on the cold floor. A large plume of dust rose in front of it and slowly settled as the wall came to rest on the floor in front of him burying the bistro and the woman and child. The plume of dust and particles came toward him and then the sunlight was blocked out and he closed his eyes to shield them from the dust.

Seconds later he opened them and the room appeared darker, and the brown tile that lay in front of him was now covered completely in an inch layer of dust and he struggled to take a breath. There was still no sound, though he could sense that he was choking on the dust and wondered if he was dying.

Slowly the room turned and he could make out more of the sky and ceiling above him and then there was a man’s face staring in revulsion at him. He appeared to be screaming also, but again he could hear nothing. There was blood splashing against his face and on his clothes as if someone were spraying him with a squirt bottle or a squirt gun. Then, he realized that this blood must be coming from his own body and panic overwhelmed him. He wished, once more, that he would wake up.

He shut his eyes and then opened them again, hoping to see his room and his wife lying next to him, but the scene remained the same. The man’s face continued to scream as blood sprayed upon his face in spurts, silence continued to engulf him as the cold numbness remained over his entire body and the destroyed room with body parts and rubble scattered everywhere lingered on as dust particles floated nonchalantly through the air. And, then, as quickly as it began, the nightmare ended and he was dead.

Save for Retirement? ahh shit

2010-04-09T13:04:00.002-05:00

I'm not that good with money. I can be impulsive even. Sometimes I might as well just throw it away. My relationship with money has never been one of reverence. What's a dollar. Spend it on pleasure or to avoid pain. Fuck! you get much deeper into thinking about it and you might as well just call it quits. Money, Money, Money... I won’t bore you with all the details and instead will concentrate on my portion of the household income. My wife works too. She makes a bit more than I do. We keep our finances separate, but share household expenses. Anyway…

I make approximately $50K per year. I have approximately $62,000 in total debt from student loans. I contribute $1,100 per month toward the mortgage payment and other household expenses. I put $400 per month into deferred compensation for retirement. I’m 45 years old. I don’t presently have a car payment and I don’t have any credit card debt.

I am required to make payments for approximately $450 per month toward my student loan debt. I have limited misc expenses; mostly gas, gardening, a clothing budget, dogfood, entertainment, and other expenses. Let’s say I spend approximately $250 toward such personal misc. expenses.

My net paycheck each month, after deductions including deferred compensation is approximately $2300 per month. Minus $1,100 mortgage/household leaves $1200. Minus $450 leaves $850. Minus $250 leaves $600. $250 for personal expenses is very conservative, but let’s stick with it. Now, I want to pay off my student loans faster. $450 per month will pay the loans off in 30 years, approximately (I think I have been paying for approximately 3-4 years, so actually its about 27 more years). I’d like to take all $600 and put it toward my student loan debt. This would pay off all my student loan debt in under 10 years. But, I need to put some money into savings for an emergency. Plus, I’ll need to get a car some day. Plus, my son goes to a private school and each August we have to pay tuition for approximately $10,000 dollars. Any savings I have helps towards this payment. Once I get my student loans paid off that’s an extra $450 dollars per month. If my salary keeps going up on schedule, in 15 years or so I should be making a bit more money and taking home an extra $500 or so a month.

I think about this a lot. I keep track of my budget. I have begun making extra payments toward my student loans. My goal is to pay off the entire amount before I am 55. Then I can really begin to save for retirement. But my son is 8. He’ll be 18 then and getting ready for college. More debt. Damn, what is this all about?

I keep thinking I’ll be able to not work someday and really begin to live. Put more time in the garden and take more vacations. Go camping and hiking in the woods. I’ll have so much fun once I get my shit together and by shit I mean once my finances are in order. Fuckin’ A, this is really all bs. Who the hell am I foolin? . What kind of life is this? Pleasure and suffering. There is no escape, man – just pleasure and suffering and getting absolutely no where. There are no special insights. There is no understanding. Age reveals little if you walk the path laid out to us by those who pave the way. None of it makes any sense. Work until you die. Your money means nothing. Pretty sure this means they own us. Pretty sure this is some form of slavery. Pretty sure nothing much has changed. Pretty sure happiness is not related to paying all the bills, because they will never all be paid and if they are, somehow this won’t lead to fulfillment either.

What is the choice? There is no choice but acceptance and there is no way to persevere but to endure.

We Don't Need Better Teachers

2010-04-09T12:58:00.002-05:00

There is a myth out there shared by almost everyone that what public education needs is better teachers. Either pay more money to attract better teachers or break the union to get rid of bad teachers. We don't need better teachers. We need a better public education system.

There was a recent announcement that Minnesota was not among the states chosen to receive Federal grants for education reform. Minnesota's application for the funding failed because of the state's lack of good policies supporting teachers, its inability to dump bad teachers, failure to place the best teachers where they're needed most, and the inability to find faster ways to get teachers into the classroom. They also cited the state's inability to narrow the achievement gap between white students and students of color, and questioned whether Minnesota has the political fortitude to implement changes.

The Governor of Minnesota said he will ask the Legislature to act on a bill that would make it easier for people to find "alternative pathways" into teaching, something he said would give the state "the ability to get the most highly effective teachers" in the classroom, while labeling Minnesota’s education system “a relic of the 1940s.”

If only it were so.

If you believe our world is screwed up, and if you ever wonder what the hell is matter with this country, then you need look no further than our education system. Our education system does not need reform. It certainly does not need better teachers. Our education system needs to be completely dismantled. Public education is not just broken, it is seriously diseased. It is a cancer that is affecting the minds of all of us.

What the hell am I saying, here?

Let me back up a bit. I am a product of public education. There is nothing inherently wrong with the idea of public education. But, we no longer have any idea of what public education is supposed to accomplish. There is not a unified vision for what Public Education should do and who it should benefit.

There is a belief out there, which many of us share, that Public Education is responsible for our Country’s successes, our innovations and our failures. We believe that when we fall behind other countries in certain economic indicators, we can make up this loss of ground by improving our education system and hiring better teachers. This belief is at the core of the repeated mantra by self-serving politicians, both democrats and republican, that we need to improve our public education so the US can compete with other developed and developing nations. We need to improve math and science scores so we can compete. Reading has to improve so we can compete. We need better technology introduced into the class room so we can compete. Our schools are failing to prepare our children to compete in the global marketplace. So, I ask, how did we get so screwed up? How did our priorities become so twisted?

Math and Science is fine. There has never been a shortage of individuals who are good at math and science. The same goes for reading, history, geography, spelling, auto mechanics, theatre, philosophy, chess playing, knitting, athletics, carpentry, farming, steel work, painting, sculpturing, musicianship, etc. Human beings come in a wide variety of aptitudes and skills.

Why are we so fixated on math and science? I love math and science. I was always good at math and science. I am neither an engineer, doctor, information systems tech, nor a physicist. Math and science have been good to me simply as a pursuit of interest. I know other people who love building things, or history or painting. Public education should not be an institution devoted to one skill over any other. Public education should be devoted to developing citizenship and for it to succeed it has to be developed locally and not through federal initiatives.

There might be a small component of Public Education that emphasizes the federal or national citizenry over the state or local components of education. US citizens share some thing in common that could be addressed through public education. For that matter, Global citizens also have things in common that should be addressed in public education, too. But, by far the greatest emphasis should be on the local community and providing education for students that helps sustain the community and doesn’t rip it apart. What are the economic opportunities within the immediate area of the Public School? What can a student do for work or a living, which will help sustain the community after he or she graduates? We should not be teaching self-interest in schools and focusing on where the student can go to earn the largest wage. Often this means providing the only means for making a living available to most students in the United States upon graduation from our public schools, and that is the through the participation in the US military. This does not sustain the community, but rather tears it apart as it attempts to mend the few who do return to the community, which suffer psychological scars inflicted through wars fought abroad.

This is the reason for the emphasis upon better teachers at the expense of better schools controlled by members of communities. Look, I’d like to be able to dump bad teachers too. But, what is a bad teacher? A teacher whose kids score poorly on math and reading tests? A teacher that falls asleep in front of the class while kids are doing homework? A teacher who is physically or verbally abusive to students? A bad teacher can be anyone of these things depending on the standards. My point is, in most respects, communities should set these standards. I don’t want state or federal governments stepping in and demanding a teacher be removed for failing to meet the state or federal standard if this teacher is considered by the community to be meeting its own standards. Community standards should come first.

If Public Education is going to work it needs to break the bonds of state control and return control to the local communities. Public Education does not need better teachers. It needs better citizens and examples. It does not need teachers who have received accreditations through Public institutions, but rather teachers that are valued members of the community to provide mentorship and examples of citizenship that give back to the community. Public Education does not need federal dollars as much as it needs community support.

People don’t want there tax dollars paying for Public education, because they don’t look at the occupants in the local schools as assets to the community. Rather, the students and teachers are thought of as liabilities. They are drains on the economy and the community would be better off without them. Public schools are thought less of than Public Correctional facilities, as far as their economic worth to local economy.

For this to change Public schools have to be returned to the community and local people have to see how young people and children can benefit the community now and in the future. There has to be a history of local graduates becoming valued members of the community for communities to embrace their Public schools. Public Schools cannot be tools for generating individuals who can compete in the global marketplace. Public Schools need to switch emphasis from developing individuals who can compete in the global market place to developing citizens who are responsible for sustaining their communities.

This is a simple concept that should be easily embraced by all, yet it is assured to be thought of as radical. Damn, it is freaking conservative to the core, and I’m a freaking liberal. But, it’s right. We do need a network of sustainable communities in this country. These communities need to work together. Communities do not need to be antagonistic to state or federal interests. But, the individual community should still come first; otherwise there is no need for the community school. We might as well send all of our children away to boarding school to be prepared to live outside the community, while we watch our neighborhoods, towns, cities, counties, etc. crumble around us.

I will be so pleased if I never hear the call for better teachers again. There is nothing wrong with the teachers. It’s the schools - the Public schools. Take them back. Tell Obama and anyone else that wants to throw their two cents in that the school is your school and you, the community, will decide how best to run it. Those kids in the school are your assets for the community, not someone else’s; least which cannon fodder for our nation’s militaries. Don’t let them take your kids away or brainwash them into believing they have no responsibilities to their families and communities.

An Old Girlfriend

2010-02-05T15:39:00.004-06:00

I met my old girlfreind for breakfast the other day. It was kind of a big deal. She is the only woman I have ever been in love with. Truly. But, I'll tell you, I learned a long time ago that being in love sucks.

I'm not in love with her anymore and meeting her did not bring back any of those old painful feelings cause that is what being in love is -- it fucking hurts.

No, it was good to see her and also to see she has a happy family and she is doing well.

I can could go on awhile about love. Someday I might go into more detail. Lets just say I love my wife and I have loved other women in the past, but I was in love only once. Being in love with someone is no fun for anybody.

I should probably qualify this a bit. I have fallen in love again. I am in love with my son. I cannot imagine how I could go on with my life without him. My own death would be easier to bear. That is what being in love is and placing that kind of thing on another person is not fair. The other person is not responsible for your being in love with them. My son did not ask that I fall in love with him, but in his case it can't be helped.

Our partners, lovers and spouses though, those people we should love and cherish, but never fall in love with. We need to realize that keeping these sustaining these relationships require work and is not something owed or bequeathed to us by some power known as love. Loving someone requires responsibility, being in love with someone is an affliction you best find a cure for.

Truthfully, when I met my old girlfriend I did feel love for her and a responsibility to let her know I cherished our time togerther a long time ago. My affliction for falling in love, though, was cured a long time ago.

My Name

2010-02-05T15:01:00.001-06:00

Its kind of funny. I don't mean to be paranoid, but the problem with all this Internet shit is that there is just not any privacy. What anyone is doing on Facebook is beyond me. It is just too risky. I don't need people knowing any more about me than I want them to and frankly, I really don't want certain people reading this blog to know it is me.

So, I don't use my real name. I used my real name in my very first post to my blog. And, in the past when you searched google for me using my name, way down the line you would get a link to my first thread for this blog. It would come up on the 10th page or so. Well, lately it comes up on the first page, which means a whole bunch of people searching for me found me and I don't know who you are. So, I edited out my name on my first post.

What can I say, I'm paranoid.

Garage Logic

2009-12-19T12:10:00.004-06:00

I probably shouldn't have done it. I actually like Joe Soucheray, and I do enjoy his show. I don't even mind that he is a talking head. While, I'm at it, let me just also admit that I used to enjoy listening to Rush Limbaugh. I know, I know, talking heads and Fox news hosts are, for the most part, right wing whackos. But, way back in 1991, I didn't know Fox news existed. I tuned into Rush and I thought what I was hearing was hilarious. I thought it was all schtick. Only after about a year of listening to him did I realize that his listeners, the diddo-heads, were actually taking everything he said seriously.

I still think, deep down, Rush is doing schtick and he knows his listeners and followers have a below average IQ. The same with Joe, although I am even more convinced that Joe is doing schtick. GLers are the same as diddo-heads, not the brightest bulbs on the tree. I think Joe plays to them and realizes that that's his money-ticket. But somedays, I'm not so convinced and the way he goes on about global warming makes me think, perhaps, hes not doing schtick and actually believes the majority of things he is saying. So, this week, I went and sent an email to his show.

Dear Joe,

I am a long-time casual listener to your afternoon show. By casual listener, I mean I have 1500 programmed into my radio on my afternoon ride home from work. When I get into my car, my radio is tuned to 1500 after listening to Patrick in the morning on my way into work. I have been a fan of Patrick and your radio talents since the long gone days of Monday Night Sports Talk. I enjoy your program because I think you are a good storyteller and I think your mythic creation of Garage Logic is (you are going to hate this) *cute.* But, I also have the local sports station and MPR programmed into my radio and sometimes there are certain topics discussed on your show that I know won’t hold my interest and these stations are waiting when I inevitably lose interest. One such topic is global warming.

First, let me begin by saying I do not believe in Global warming. I will tell you later what it is I do believe in, but first I want to say that I assume that I am like most people and I refuse to be forced to choose between either believing global warming is real or that global warming is a hoax perpetrated upon us by anti-capitalistic thugs. Only fanatics from either side would force us to choose one side or the other and you, I am afraid, are one of the fanatics. The reality is that none of us really know. We don’t know. We take certain things on faith. I cannot test the atmosphere, so I am forced to either believe scientific reports or dismiss them. There is nothing wrong with this conundrum. We are forced to do this everyday. Our brains can only handle so much information and we have limited time. I don’t have the expertise to analyze H1N1 with electron microscopes (if this is really how they analyze H1N1 viruses), so I have to either choose to believe scientists and get vaccinated or choose not to believe that H1N1 is really a dire threat that requires vaccination.

So, let me explain what is appealing about global warming theories and why the majority of people do not dismiss the scientists that warn us of the dangers, even as we readily dismiss the anti-capitalistic thugs gathered in Copenhagen who use global warming as a means to rant against capitalism and imperialism. See, Joe, you still have to account for the scientists. And, listen, I share your skepticism. I admire those people who choose not to believe everything told to them that are supported by the words, “consensus in the scientific community,” or other words to that effect. Science has a track record of being wrong as many times as it has been right. In fact, that is the essence of science. Science is a continual striving to come up with better and better theories and the theories of today will be replaced with new theories tomorrow. So, taking on faith, certain truths, just because there is scientific consensus, is foolish. We have to admit, sometimes, that, sometimes science is wrong and also that scientists are humans with self-interest goals just like all the rest of us. They want the glory of publications and they will protect their theories from attack by others leading to hiding emails, and slandering opponents, etc. There is a history of this amongst every field in science.

Now, what do the scientist tell us about global warming? What is it that is appealing about global warming that is appealing to the majority of us? What strikes me is that there are certain things we take on faith that no one disputes. I cannot measure the level of CO2 in the atmosphere. Nor, have I have made an analysis of the gases that result from burning fossil fuels. But, I haven’t heard anyone dispute that when you burn fossil fuel you use oxygen and create CO2. I also have not heard anyone dispute that CO2 levels have been increasing in the atmosphere over the past 50-100 years which coincides with increasing fossil fuel consumption around the world. The dispute seems to be around whether or not these increased levels of CO2 in the atmosphere have the ability to affect climate, which may in turn affect our way of life. I don’t know, but it seems plausible. Is it a certainty? Will it lead to disaster? Hell, if I know, but the underlying logic seems all right. And, yes, I still drive a car and live the typical American life with no remorse. I am just suggesting that the above logic seems sound.

What I believe is that there is a certain risk that man-made activities may eventually affect the climate on Earth enough that it may cause catastrophic effects in the future that could lead to the extinction of our species. I have no idea what that risk is. Nor, do I think this risk requires us to take immediate action. The risk might be incredibly small. Or it could be quite large. I have to take all of this information from both sides on faith, because I don’t know. Again, this is no different than knowing whether or not we should have made war in Iraq after 9/11 or whether we should increase the number of troops in Afghanistan today. There is a risk that terrorists are planning another attack on American soil, but I, personally, don’t know what that risk is. I don’t know whether immediate action was required back in 2003 in Iraq or if immediate action is required today in Afghanistan.

I know I don’t trust those who tell me to believe one way or another, because I know that those people do not know any better than I. Not George Bush, not Obama and not you. You all bore me. I am going to drive my slightly more ecologically friendly economy car, not because I want to save the world, but because it saves me money. I am going to be nice to everyone around me, whether a member of a Muslim, Christian, Jew or some other ethnic or religious community, because that is the only way I know to make peace in the world – by being nice to people around me. We are a “good” people as you said on your show yesterday. But, so are the Danish and the Iraqis and the Pakistanis and the Cubans and so on. These are all “good” people with brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, grandparents and children. Hugo Chavez does not speak for the majority of these good people, nor does anyone else in Copenhagen. Don’t give them more power than they deserve. I am not sure who the supposed “scientific community” is that believes in global warming, but I know they are not the people we see ranting against capitalism and imperialism in Copenhagen.

What I will say is that trading CO2 permits makes sense to me. It is a capitalistic idea and it will place limits on the growth of CO2 in the atmosphere. It can be balanced with economic growth and monitored in the coming years with climate and extinction rates, ocean levels and other things scientists like to study, make reports on and offer recommendations. Having CO2 permits available for trade will not drastically change our lifestyles in America if it will change it all. There is no more reason to believe it will than to believe that if we don’t do anything catastrophe will inevitably strike. Because, either way, WE JUST DON”T KNOW!

So, don’t tell me to take a side in the debate and don’t suggest I need psychological help if I don’t join you in claiming that global warming is a hoax. I don’t know and neither do you.

Andy

Set List

2009-11-20T15:31:00.002-06:00

I sold all my big amplifiers a long time ago. I really am not that big a fan of loud these days. I loved the power of loud when I was young and the way I could feel a chord with my whole body when my pick hit the strings of my guitar with a force that would break more than my fair share of strings. I thought, and I still believe, that that force is the defining power behind rock-n-roll, or if not rock-n-roll, punk rock.

But, these days, I like melodies and rhythms and structures of songs. I play an acoustic guitar, mostly and I can hear my voice clearly when I sing. I don’t play out, but think I might some day again. For now, I strum my guitar alone in the house with my family and occasionally for a select group of close friends (cronies).

If you happened to stop by, this is what you might hear. I don't play with a pick but with my fingers, my thumb plucking out a strong steady bass line. My fingers brush against the strings with the back of my fingernails on the down-stroke to drive the songs rhythm and pluck the song’s melody with my nails on the upstroke. The sound is full with the melody weaving in and out of the bass line with a steady constant rhythm going on. I do all of this without thinking after years of playing and listening. Without band members, I have learned to create as much of the full band sound as I can all by myself.

I will start with a random song that falls from my head to my fingers. If I can’t find a song, I might reach back for an old one-even all the way back to an old Floored song. Its funny how much melody those songs actually had, underneath all that noise. I can’t even guess at the number of times I have heard my wife say “that’s really pretty, whose song is that?” after I have played an old Floored, Hammerhead, Diddy-wah-Diddy, Loaded or even a Mess song on my acoustic guitar.

Eventually I will pull out a folder of songs I have with lyrics written down to play and sing with. I might start with Taj Mahal’s “Johnny too Bad” to see my sons face light up so he can sing along to “You gonna run to the rock for rescue and there will be no RoocccKKKKK.” Dragging the Rock out like he is an opera singer.

After that song, I might choose John Prines “The other side of Town,” just to see my wife’s look of disapproval. The first time I played it for her I said to her, “Every time I hear this song I think of you.” And she sat down to listen in anticipation until she began to understand the meaning of the song around the second verse with “You might think I’m listening to your grocery list, but I’m leaning on a juke box half…”

Perhaps, then you might hear me do Tom Wait’s “The House where nobody lives,” followed by Greg Brown’s “Like a Dog,” that always gets a hoot from my son at the end when I howl like a dog at the moon. I will work in Michael Frante’s “Nobody right, Nobody Wrong” or “Bomb the World” just to provide a little inspiration before breaking into Charlie Parr’s “Cheap Wine,” that I just can’t help singing with much more bitterness from the liquor store owner perspective than Charlie’s sweet singing of old ladies and bums.

You would surely hear me sing “The man in the bed” by Dave Alvin at some point, but might not notice that I have changed a verse to reflect the man in the bed as my father or noticed the tears behind my eye and the lump in my voice. I will quickly switch to “Home Grown Tomatoes,” by Guy Clarke to liven up the mood again and then do “Rex’s blues” by Townes Van Zandt just for the pretty melody despite the sadness in the song.

I will do “Cold War” by Fred Eaglesmith, because I remember the cold war, my daddy fixing small machines and him listening to Johnny Cash on the radio. There will probably be some other songs mixed in, but I will end with the last song I wrote. I used to hate doing other peoples songs. If you remember one of my old bands, you know we mostly did our own songs. Except, it seems, everyone remembers that Floored did a mean ass cover of “Age of Aquarius,” and if I am in the right mood and I am passed my fourth Summit beer, you might still hear me do “Age of Aquarius” all the way through to “Let the Sunshine in.”

The last song I will do is Wishbone, which I wrote a couple years ago for my son. My son will sing along with this song too. I wrote it after I introduced him to his first wishbone and asked him to take a pull. He was about 4 years old at the time. Its got one Chord (E Major) and a steady Blues beat and melody weaving in and out of that one chord. Here's the lyrics.

Wishbone

We plucked the chicken
Skinned it too
Put it in a pot
Then we made some soup

(Lookie here) Now I got a wishbone
Tell you what we’re gonna do
I’ll make a wish
You make one too

Chorus (Wishbone, wishbone, wishbone,
Wishbone, wishbone wishbone [repeat])

I’ll take one end
You take the other
We’ll both pull it tell it gives
And then we’ll see which end is longer

Don’t you worry
Don’t you fret
You still got a chance
Though I ain’t lost one yet

Chorus

Don’t you cry
Dry your eyes
Don’t you know
That the wishbone never lies

Hold your head up
I rigged this one for you
My only wish
Is all your wishes will come true

Chorus

Been 4 years now since I wrote my last song. Still waiting for the next one to come along.

The Science of Fasting

2009-11-20T15:22:00.002-06:00

Beginning at sundown every Friday I don’t eat for 24 hours. It is my own personal Sabbath, although I will work in the garden or back by the compost heap cutting up small sticks.
I can’t read the future and fate may hold other cards I’m not aware of, but I’ve always thought I would live a long life. I am 45 now and I feel my life is close to being halfway over. I don’t feel like the end of my life is approaching in the next decade or so. No, I am pretty sure I will see 2050 and my mind will be sharp when I do, even if I will often repeat myself.

I eat well and I fast a bit, and that will be my secret – that and I was lucky enough to make it through the highways and the terror of violence that is always at hand somewhere in the world. Some will say I died peacefully after a good long life, and I suppose they will be mostly correct. Life has been, is and will be satisfying although the way to the end, even with whatever trauma inevitably awaits me. I hope I will have grandchildren around me and a son I am so, So proud of, even if he has broken my heart several times with the inevitable turning away from the dreams I hold for him.

But, through all the good and bad luck, I will have eaten well and done my fasts, so I will live long, I suppose. I’m just wingin’ it. I don’t know any secrets and I don’t have any good science on my side, although I do think like a scientist. Eating fruits and vegetables is good for your health. Eating Kimchee and Yogurt is good for your digestion. You don’t need science to tell you this. Make these foods a significant part of your diet and you will start to feel better. But what about fasting.

First, anecdotally, humans have been fasting as part of our evolutionary history forever. Read any old text on ancient or nontraditional cultures and medicines and fasting will have played a part in religious and healing ceremonies. Second, there are Seventh Day Adventists. They fast once a week and they live longer and healthier lifestyles when compared to the general population. I read that somewhere. Look it up.

Finally, we come to my science. I read a New York Times article a few years back and a year or so later caught a 60 minutes episode on a new discovery. Both were a reporting of the discovery of a chemical compound found in wine that could extend the average human lifespan. This chemical apparently causes the human body to produce a chemical or hormone that switches our body chemistry and tells our cells to change emphasis from reproduction to longevity. In the New York Times article, just in passing, they mentioned that the Body is also induced to produce the chemical when we fast. But, hell, there is no money to be made in fasting and Americans love their pills. So, the race was on for patents to produce a product that can be sold as the fountain of youth to Americans and others wanting a long lush life. Eat McDonalds, take a pill, live a long life.

Well, I don’t think it works that way. There might be a chemical in red wine that induces the body to produce a chemical that changes our body chemistry. But, that is probably just happenstance. It is the fasting that the body is reacting to. Think about it. We go along millions of years, living as hunters and gatherers and having to face times and seasons where food is scarce. Evolutionary, we also strive to pass on our genes from one generation to another. So, when food is available, our bodies and cell structures put their energy into reproduction and the passing of our genes to our offspring. Men use their caloric intake for producing sperm and scheming for mates, while women prepare their body to carry a child to term. The child is born and then food becomes scarce, what do we do? We fast out of necessity and any scarce food goes to the children and the young whose bodies are also being prepared for reproduction.

When elders and parents fast, for the benefit of children and the passing on of genes, their bodies produce this chemical that induces cells to stop putting all this energy into reproduction. Evolution favors adults that produce this chemical, because once we have passed on our genes, longevity is more important than spreading more of our genes around. We need to live long for the sake of our offspring to teach and guide them in the world and to help them secure nutrition.

Enter the modern age where food, not nutritious food, but corn syrup and empty calories, is always available and we no longer fast. We get heart disease and cancer. Moreover, as our sex drives decrease we desire to recapture our health and take Viagra to feel young and sexual again.

Fasting may also kill those unhealthy cells that may lead to cancer or heart disease. And, fasting feels good. It makes you aware of your body and everything you put into it. You don’t eat for 24 hours and you will stop shitting for 24 hours. 24 hours after the Saturday night when you eat a salad and a meal, Sunday afternoon comes along and you have felt that salad and meal go all the way through you as you expel the remaining waste products.

So, I fast for 24 hours once a week. A few times a year I attempt to fast from 2 to 5 days. I’m wingin’ it, no doubt. Some people might think I’m doing it all wrong. People who eat regularly and are conscious of their health and diet cannot fathom the idea of going without a meal. They think their body has to maintain some homeostasis and their blood sugar levels need to be constant, or they will feel weak. But, I think they are wrong. I think all systems and parts of our bodies need rest and this includes the digestive system. Our cells also need to rest and need a trigger for the release of built up toxins from the constant metabolism stimulated by the constant caloric intake.

That is the purpose of the Sabbath. It’s not necessarily a testament to the creation and the rest required by the creator after a week of making the universe. Like every tale, the story of creation is a myth that provides us with a metaphor. We need to fast to allow our bodies to rest. Growing children need a constant supply of nutrition to meet their needs as their bodies grow, but adults should fast once in a while. That's my theory with the science to back it up.

Sex and Growing Old

2009-11-20T15:11:00.002-06:00

There are so many things to adjust to when growing old, but one aspect of it stands out above all others and is the source of great wisdom. Yes, there are the aches and pains, the creaking joints, and diminished physical abilities. There are decreasing tolerance for some things (crowds, loud music, obnoxious people) and increasing tolerance for others (cultures, political differences, religious differences, obnoxious people). There are the worries about health and, for men, the prostate, in particular, becomes worrisome as the urge to urinate become more frequent, the difficulty of starting a flow when the need arises becomes more difficult, and the urine stream becomes weaker when one’s bladder is finally able to empty itself.

The prostate is a very mysterious organ. My understanding of it is about as knowledgeable as my understanding of female reproductive organs. It always has served me well in the past when most needed, even if it often appeared to act all on its own. I believe it is a gland that either is also a muscle or somehow acts like a muscle to restrict the flow of blood out of the penis and cause an erection. It also cuts off the ability to urinate and is the impetus behind the power of ejaculation. But, the prostate grows over time as men age and as it grows it apparently causes urinary malfunctions or incontinence. I don’t believe this expansion of the prostate has any consequences in regard to impotence or the ability to achieve an erection, although relative to the aging process, I am still in the beginning stages of growing old and impotence remains far off in the future, although the anxiety that incontinence is the precursor to impotence grows in proportion to the enlargement of my prostate gland. Yes, prostate troubles are particularly worrisome for men as they age. However, this is not the most astonishing aging fact that we experience. The most remarkable and astonishing aspect of growing old is the diminishment of the sex drive.

Hell, maybe even that is caused by the prostate. Perhaps, the enlargement of the prostate over time is a result of the many past erections. I probably spent 21 out of 24 hours from the age of 17 until 23 with an erection and if the prostate is a muscle (fuck if I know, I am assuming, but likely my medical facts are completely wrong), then all that work, like exercise, has grown the prostate over time. Until the age of 40, I probably had, at a minimum, over 50 erections a day. But, now, I wake up with an erection and, although I still have some days where an erection is ever present, mostly, it seems, there are more days than not that my only erection is the one I wake up with to begin the day. And, going by my theory, if all these erections cause a prostate to grow over time, then maybe the downward quality of my life is being spared by all this lack of erection time, so I can at least have a good pee now and then. Yes, I am pleased to say, that a particularly remarkable and astonishing thing about a diminished sex drive is how many body functions are on par with sex or ejaculation as far as pure bliss and joy. Taking a shit, relieving oneself of a full bladder, flatulence and a sit-down meal of ribs, homegrown potatoes, vegetables and a salad all washed down with an ice cold local brew, are all looked forward too with as much or with more fondness than a good fuck, blowjob or cunnilingus.

Is that sad? I suppose in some ways it is. But in so many ways it is also reinvigorating. Don’t get me wrong, like all body urges noted above, the urge to ejaculate can still become all consuming just as the urge to eat well, shit and piss does. All bodily urges can be overpowering. In the case of ejaculation, this overpowering urge still possesses the capability to either lead one to bliss or drive one to do an incredibly stupid, embarrassing and unexplainable act despite our growing old and our diminished sex drive.

But the sex drive is also revealing of human nature, at least from my point of view as a man. There is nothing more annoying to me than male novelists, screenplay directors or other male artists who cast the elder male protagonist in a relationship with younger female counterparts. Woody Allen is an obvious example, but Philip Roth, Michael Ventura and many other male artists provide similar examples. The annoyance results from completely unrealistic portrayal of these relationships and I don’t mean because of the obvious revulsions most young females have for the aging male body. Despite the universal fact that as we age our physical attractiveness diminishes due to our bodies decaying and our odors becoming increasingly wrenching, I don’t think it is unrealistic to fathom that there might be a small minority of young woman out there who feel a need to be with an older man. A younger woman may feel the need to have a relationship with an older man and to live with him so she can be provided with a sense of security that an older man may arguably be more apt to provide than a younger one. No, what makes the older man/younger woman relationship untenable is not the attraction of younger women for elder men, but rather the inability of an elder man to stay interested in a younger woman once the sexual attraction wears off, which inevitably happens with all relationships, but happens more quickly as the sexual drive diminishes.

Hey, obviously, all men, when presented with the hypothetical lineup of women at a brothel, will choose the younger woman over an elder one. As men’s odors become more repellent when we age, so do women’s. As stomachs grow and various body parts sag, so do women’s asses grow and sag. That beauty is most revealing in the young is a universal fact no one can deny. But it is also a universal fact that there are very few people any of us can stand to live with. Once the sex is over and you are presented with the possibility of cohabitating with the person to raise the potential child that may result from the most recent copulation, it is not an unusual reaction to feel revulsion toward the person you only seconds before were intimate with. There is no better explanation for the oldest profession in the world than that, because when paying for sex a man is spared from even the contemplation of living with the outlet for his desires. For that matter, once you understand the level of detestation we can feel for the human and biological, you can understand why the history of war has always been accompanied by abhorrent acts against women and children.

Our inner and deepest natures are not our better natures. If forced to live with people we would happily bed down with in moments of overwhelming lust, the inevitable reaction will be violence.
The fact that we detest people we have to live with is not an aberration that only a few of us experience. We all experience it in one form or another many times in our lives. The challenge is to choose someone to live with that we will detest the least, not someone we will lust after the most. Once the sex is over, I could not imagine living with a person who has no memory of her Daddy listening to Ray Christiansen broadcasting Gopher football games on Saturday afternoons before turning the channel to a country station to sing along with Johnny Cash on the radio, no memory of the Cold war, and no opportunity to have seen the Replacements perform on Saturday Night Live. Once the sex is over, if there is no history to share between two people, how can there be any possibility to move beyond the detestation that will inevitably result when one human lives under the same roof as another?

And this is how our tolerance grows as our sex drive diminishes. Sex does not keep any relationship together where two people live together under the same roof. Infatuation will always wear off once exposed to another’s habits, ticks, and odiferous waste products. Infatuation can only continue if there is enough separation between two individuals that there is no opportunity to actually know one another. This wisdom is not available to those still caught in the threshold of multiple erections and infatuations. In fact, this wisdom is the first thing to leave us whenever we succumb to the urge for copulation, and it is always immediately recognizable upon the moment of ejaculation.

Our detestation for the person lying next to us and for ourselves is in inverse proportion to the amount of shared history we have for the person. And, of course, this is what makes the affair so devastating. Not to the other, but to ourselves. The more shared history, the deeper that devastation will be. For once we ejaculate with the stranger who has become the outlet for our sexual urges, our detestation for this stranger is on par with the detestation we feel for the person we live with. Without any shared history, we cannot overcome this detestation for the human and the biological that we all share. And the longer we live with a person the more shared history we accumulate. If that person is the mother of our children the history becomes even more impactful.

Of course, it is also true that sometimes the history becomes too painful to carry with us for any number of reasons, including affairs. In those cases it becomes necessary to find someone new to live with. But, even that someone new has to have something from her past that can be shared. A young woman cannot provide that to an older man.

The diminishment of the sex drive as we age is not astonishing because we cannot fathom life without sex. Sex is always an urge with the potentiality for being all-consuming for periods of time – even as we age. But, the diminished sex drive offers us a glimpse into what it means to be human and to be accompanied by all of our foibles and shortcomings for getting along with one another.

Darkness, Poetry and Marbles

2009-11-20T15:07:00.002-06:00

The darkness is moving in all around us. I awake in the dark and turn lights on as I move from room to room and ready myself for a day of work under the bank of fluorescent lights hovering over cubes within the suspended ceilings in the capital-city downtown office building. I can see the sunshine in my daily walks through the skyway system, and upon leaving work to pick my son up from his day in school. From there it is a rush against the turning of the Earth as the sun settles in the sky while we hurry home to throw a football in the yard, shoot basketballs in the neighbor’s driveway, or toss a baseball back and forth. By the time we are called in for dinner, the darkness has almost enveloped us for the night and our play will be reserved for indoor activities until an early call to peel off and go to bed.

The long days of summer are gone and the garden has been put to rest. The leaves are piled high in the compost heap and the raised beds are all covered in straw. A gopher, some rabbits and many field mice scurry amongst the beds digging holes and piling dirt and causing worry to the gardener that refuses to use poisons or chemicals in his dirt that grows so much food to sustain his family. But the garden paradise he has created that flourishes with lush green growth from May to October has also created a panacea for other critters to call home. The rabbits and the mice he can live with, but this gopher going around digging tunnels and leaving gigantic piles of excavated dirt around his garden is the source of new frustration and worry. Is it time to get a gun?

Fall and winter is the time for reflection and also a time to let the darkness settle in all around us. We can be overwhelmed with thoughts of doomsday, as the Christmas shopping season ramps up and the Salvation Army bell ringers take up positions in the skyways, outside on downtown street corners and at the entrances of big boxes everywhere. We are also given a gift of time as the summer activities end, the harvest is over, and we sit indoors with our families and ourselves driving each other crazy. It is a time to read, play guitar and to write down thoughts. Winter provides opportunity to be poetic and to appreciate our longing for summer, even as the beauty of a winter snowfall covers pine and spruce trees and leaves the bird feeders at the center of the winter ecological backyard community.

And so, my guitar has been liberated from its stand and its strings are tenderly being caressed awake by my fingers several times a week as they mindlessly pick tunes and melodies on it and search for a lost voice put away early last spring. My son plays marbles and listens, sometimes sings along, and sometimes asks me to stop to join in his marble game. From upstairs I hear my wife’s voice say, “that was pretty, whose song was that?” Usually I don’t answer, embarrassed and slightly annoyed that I have to tell her that the origin of the song is unknown and has simply come with the darkness of the season. But, I am thankful for the effortlessness of my fingers as they pluck out melodies and a rhythm while my thumb keeps pace with a steady bass line on the low strings. Somehow my mind has picked out the songs of the darkness for my fingers to translate and the rooms of the house fill with a new lightness.

As I play marbles with my son, my thoughts remain on the guitar and I hear my voice call from within. I want to go back and pick it up and sing songs I’ve learned as my fingers provide the accompaniment. But, that will have to wait as my fingers struggle with a newer skill and get thoroughly trounced by smaller and defter fingers shooting marbles along side of me.

Life, Death, Meaning and Meaninglessness

2009-04-04T10:19:00.003-05:00

The older one gets the more one thinks about death. When thinking about death one is going to obviously consider the meaning of one's life. When we hear the news of someone's death we often consider the life of that person and wonder what purpose the person served -- we wonder if their life had any meaning. More importantly, we wonder if that person believed their life had any meaning. When we hear of suicide, we might be even more intrigued by the person's life.

I had never heard of David Foster Wallace until his suicide made national news this past fall. He was found dead in his home in September of 2008 at the age of 46. I read his commencement speech given to the 2005 graduation class from Kenyon College and I was immediately intrigued. Here was an obviously very intelligent individual who had had some success as a writer and then decided to end his life because living was just too painful. From a very limited perspective, I have some empathy for his feelings. I have been lucky to have never suffered from depression in my life. However, DFW’s writings had an appeal to me because of his ability to describe the meaninglessness of everyday life in our society.

I went to the library and checked out a couple of his books. He railed against the ironic, and coplained that irony was making it very difficult to be a fiction writer in today’s world because television had surpassed the novel as the descriptor for modern life. DFW believed that television was the prime mover of irony in modern society. I’m not sure if his depression was a result of his inability to find true meaning in his life, but I have a feeling it must have played a part. DFW was smart. He was a lot smarter than I. As I read him, I could not help thinking in my mind as he made acute observations on the mundane world around us, that this person eventually killed himself and basically came to the conclusion that life was not really worth living -- for any of us.

I know depression is more than just an intellectual exercise. I also understand that some people who are clinically depressed are really not that intelligent to begin with. But, the inability to find meaning in our lives is a symptom of modern society and the rise of depression must have something to do with the ironies and meaninglessness that surround all of us.

Reinhold Niebuhr observed that “every universe of meaning is constantly under threat of meaninglessness,” or something to that effect. Niebuhr was a social critic and a theologian. He had an understanding of the ironic and was aware of both the comforts and the pitfalls that science and modernism has brought humanity. Materialism has brought television, automobiles, cell phones, and other conveniences. The modern age, along with science, has also demonstrated the folly of certain religious beliefs and makes individuals who attack scientific theories such as Darwin’s evolution seem foolish and intellectually dense. Niebuhr had no problem with recognizing the limitations of literal beliefs from the Bible. However, Niebuhr’s observation that the Bible and religious faith provide meaning within the meaninglessness of existence is worth heeding attention to and could have saved DFW the torment that eventually led him to take his life. I think it might be the only thing that saves any of us from following DFW's example.

DFW was cool. He made many references to popular culture. He was obviously well-read and could pontificate on many subjects including philosophy, mathematics and literature. But, he could also talk about television and the internet. He was not just an intellectual. He wrote for Rollingstone, Harpers and the Atlantic. DFW was fully immersed in modern society and popular culture. But, despite his talents and success, the meaning of his existence eluded him. Was he just too smart?

Charlie Walters died on January 17, 2009 at the age of 83. I had never heard of Charlie Walters until a few years ago when I began subscribing to an organic farming magazine called ACRES,USA. The magazine was very informative and contained a wealth of information on farming and gardening that arrived each month. Charlie was the editor and, I assumed he put together many of the articles that gave me many facts for becoming a better gardener by taking care of my soil and using different organic techniques. But, the real value of the magazine was Charlie’s editorials. Charlie was a genius. He was incredibly smart, like DFW a lot smarter than I.

Charlie understood how to find meaning in his life even though he was confronted daily with the same ironies and meaninglessness from modern society as DFW. No, being smart, or thinking about all the examples of the meaninglessness in our lives and jobs in not necessarily a sentence for depression and eventual suicide. There has to be meaning among the meaninglessness. We have to find it. Sometimes that takes a little faith, but even when we find meaning it has to be understood that this meaning will be under attack by meaninglessness as Niebuhr says. So where do you find meaning? I cannot answer that and I’m not sure that Charlie can answer it either. Faith can mean many things and it can also lead one to blindness, but in the end everything is built upon the faith in something and because of this meaninglessness is built into any metaphysical or religious thought. But we can’t address the mystery without some sort of metaphysics and beauty in the world is as unexplainable as the ugliness and the mundane.

Meaning in our lives is found wherever we can find beauty or maybe love. We can tear down all of this meaning with irony and, I suppose, that was why meaning could nosustain DFW. For Charlie Walters, equally aware of the ironies and meaninglessness of modern life, meaning was sustainable because he had faith in something beyond the meaninglessness, call it God, call it humanity, call it beauty or love. Charlie had faith in something and I don’t think DFW had faith in anything. I can understand why DFW didn’t either and that’s what scares me most.

Which brings me back to Niebuhr’s “every universe of meaning is under constant threat of meaninglessness,” or something like that (I don’t remember the exact quote, but it really was something either exactly like that or very close to it). It’s a tenuous hold on sanity for all of us. People like Charlie and Niebuhr shine a light on meaning and faith, while not asking any of us to be fanatics or to sacrifice our intelligence to fundamentalism. This faith or meaning is mysterious and our inability to describe it or defend it with reason is what makes it fallible. It is the same as saying there is not Truth or nothing we can point to that describes exactly the workings of the universe – or knowledge is not discovered, but made. Acknowledging this does not mean we are nihilists. We can still be pragmatists and still have a faith in a meaning of our lives whose outcome is not predetermined or known by a larger being or entity. The meaning can be in the process of living or even our acknowledgement of the beauty and order amongst the chaos or meaninglessness.

Perhas.

Ecological Economics

2009-04-04T10:07:00.003-05:00

Although there are other alternatives to neoclassical economic, it is hard not to talk about the economy without referring to this model in some form or another. Understanding neoclassical economics is important for gaining insight into our current financial crisis to understand how markets operate. Neoclassical economics offers a very simple and elegant model for understanding markets. As I've indicated before, the problemwith neoclassical economics is believing these models are natural systems or laws that provide us guidance into how our economic system must be run. I want to talk about neoclassical economics to give some insight into our economic system and why we are in a crisis and what restructuring has to take place if we are going to put ourselves on a sustainable path. But first I want to talk about some alternatives to neoclassical economics.

There have been many proposed alternatives to neoclassical economics. Critics of neoclassical economics often criticize from these alternative positions. Marxists are the most well-known example. My contention is that Marxists and neoclassical economists suffer from the same affliction. They are both based upon scientific thought and what economics needs more than anything is an ethic that goes beyond objective valuation – which is the key ingredient for and economics school of thought to be labeled scientific. One of the latest alternative schools of thought to neoclassical economics is ecological economics and two of its founders and leaders are Herman Daly and Robert Costanza.

According to Herman Daly, Ecological Economics “seeks to ground economic thinking in the dual realities and constraints of our biophysical and moral environments” while promoting “truly transdisciplinary research in which practitioners accept that disciplinary boundaries are academic constructs irrelevant outside of the university.” With Robert Costanza and others, Daly has launched this bold new discipline seeking to displace the standard economic theory known as neoclassical economics. Although well-intentioned, Daly and Costanza are only the latest in a long line of academics attempting to make economics a more exact science.

Costanza’s contention that economists versed in the natural sciences would have a greater appreciation of the biosphere is correct, but ecologists should be wary about versing themselves in the seductive jargon of neoclassical economics which treats the biosphere as a commodity. Costanza’s 1997 $33 trillion estimate of the values of environmental services is one example of the folly of linking ecology with economics.

In the history of economics there have been many attempts at creating a theory that is rational and objective emulating the standards set in the natural sciences. Philip Mirowski has thoroughly documented these attempts and trends in his two seminal works More Heat than Light and Machine Dreams: Economics Becomes a Cyborg Science. Mirowski describes three waves of immigrants from the natural sciences during the 200 year history of economics. The first wave occurred during the mechanistic era of physics from 1870 to the turn of the century. The second phase of immigrants occurred during the operation management era of the cold war. The final phase is happening right now and is characterized under the heading of inter- or trans-disciplinary studies. Mirowski says in Machine Dreams:

The ubiquitous contraction of physics and the continuing expansion of molecular
biology has not only caused sharp redirections in careers, but also redirection
of cultural images of what it means to be a successful science of epochal
import. In many ways, the rise of the cyborg sciences is yet another
manifestation of these mundane considerations of funding and support;
interdisciplinary research has become more akin to a necessary condition of
survival in our brave new world than merely the province of a few dilettantes or
renaissance men; and the transformations of economic concepts…is as much an
artifact of a newer generation of physicists, engineers, and other natural
scientists coming to terms with the traditions established by a previous
generation of scientific interlopers dating from the depression and World War
II, as it is an entirely new direction in intellectual discourse.”

Ecological economics is part of the latest interdisciplinary push that has united the natural sciences and economics within the confines and constructs of neoclassical economics. Daly demonstrates his devotion to the “scientific method” as the only means for reforming neoclassical economics by offering objective valuation criteria for our resources at the expense of all other intellectual pursuits with his admonishment to other thinkers using alternative methods to “keep silent.” He states in his Ecological Economics textbook:

“…many members of the intelligentsia deny either nondeterminism, nonnihilism, or
both, yet they engage in a policy dialogue. It is not just that we
disagree on exactly what our alternatives are in particular instances, or about
what our value criterion implies for a concrete case—that’s part of reasonable
dialogue. The point is that determinists who deny the effective existence
of alternatives, and nihilists or relativists who deny the existence of a value
criterion beyond the level of subjective personal tastes, have no logical basis
for engaging in policy dialogue—and yet they do! We cordially and
respectfully invite them to remember and reflect deeply upon their option to
remain silent—at least about policy.”

Even if you agree with Daly that we should do more to protect our resources and opt out of a consumerist and materialist culture, he wishes for you to remain silent if you are unable to adhere to a nondeterminist program for discovering real and objective valuation criteria. Daly, like most scientists, believes we cannot act until we frame our arguments within objective, scientific rhetoric. It is as if we cannot trust our senses and argue for the nonproliferation of nuclear armaments, the reduction of CO2 emissions and the preservation of our air, water and wilderness areas because we just think (or God help us, believe) that this is the best course for the future of humanity. If we cannot come up with a reasonable valuation criterion demonstrating irrefutably that clean water is better than a high GDP and job growth, we should remove ourselves from the discussion. If we cannot play the economist game then Daly wishes we would all just shut up—respectfully, of course.

The determinists and nihilists Daly is referring to are the poets, novelists, artists, philosophers, and others in our society creating a culture valuing aesthetic beauty, peace, clean air, wilderness, and solitude over a consumer and materialist culture. Many of these individuals value inter-subjective agreement over discovering an objective valuation measure existing in its own right.
Daly has a strong attachment to the theology of “universal truth” and feels economics is tainted by its devotion to determinist Darwinism, which believes that historical contingencies play a greater role in the evolution of human society than the ultimate design by some universal entity. He misplaces the faults in neoclassical thinking by noting that this leads one to believe that “the natural world is just a pile of instrumental accidental stuff to be used up in the arbitrary projects of a purposeless species.”

A belief in ultimate ends does not guarantee one will also hold a belief in the importance of the stewardship over our environmental resources. Perhaps believing in a creator of this Earth will help one develop an environmental ethic and perhaps not. Regardless, Daly’s diatribe against determinists and nihilists needlessly isolates allies in a liberal agenda for preserving our planet from the excesses of modern consumerist culture.

One can believe that there is no purpose to human existence and still advocate a future for protecting the environment over a future of material gain and a buying culture. Environmental destruction and an accelerated pace towards extinction for the human race is as likely a future as one promoting stewardship and solving the many large environmental catastrophes currently facing us. The only way to ensure the latter choice is by changing culture through persuasive argument and convincing the majority of humans on our planet that a culture promoting wanton destruction of our planet in order to support a materialistic culture for a minority of inhabitants will lead to misery for the rest of us. I believe a search for an “ultimate truth” revealing the “real value” of our environmental resources is a fruitless and ultimately wasteful endeavor.

The problem with Daly and most ecological economists is not that they don’t feel strongly about the need to change the direction of our economy through reforming how economists think about valuation. The problem is they think, like scientists about truth, that a valuation criterion still exists out there in the real world somewhere and the economist’s job is to discover what this objective measure is and where it is at. In addition, ecological economists follow the example of others in scientific circles believing truth is discovered and not made through inter-subjective agreement among humans. This is a problem because, instead of using all means of persuasion available for changing culture around the world from aims toward consumerism and rising GDPs to one promoting an ethic of stewardship, ecological economists wish to replace neoclassical economics as the only game in town by discovering the one and only ultimate end which they propose falls under the rubric called ecological economics.

We would be better served if we realized price is a human creation but value is unknowable. Value defies scientific thought and is impossible to model accurately no matter what economic system we create. We need to rely on ethics and morality as the means for valuing natural resources. Accounting for them in a national accounting system will never provide the protections we need for the world we live in. Such an accounting system may have some desirable effects, but it is bound to have flaws which can be exploited by savvy entrepreneurs in search of profits.

What we should be striving for is not an amalgamation of economics with ecology, but rather the reduction of the role economists play in policy making and a greater emphasis upon the role ecologists, artists, novelist, poets and communities make in policy decisions. Both ecologists and economists need to open up their ears to the opinions and arguments of all members of the human race, rather than beseeching some to “remain silent.”

My Green Thumb

2009-03-31T15:53:00.002-05:00

I have had my seedling started since the middle of February and now my tomato, pepper, herb and flowers have filled two large plant stands that fill the space in front of two large sliding glass patio doors in our home. Growing plants has become a passion in my life. I am not sure how it was nurtured, but it is something I seem to have a talent for and also something I enjoy very much.

I am not sure when I first got an interest in plants. I do know that I neglected this interest for several years of my life. I have always loved outdoor places and felt at home around plants and gardens. My parents tended a garden and I spent many hours observing my mother and father till, hoe, rake and harvest our little garden plot in out backyard. As an adult, however, I never tended a garden or even took care of plants until I was well into my thirties.

I lived with a girlfriend who kept a few houseplants and I always appreciated these plants, but I did not tend to them. She also kept a stock of cut flowers on display in the rooms of our apartment. We would attend the Farmer’s Market together and admire the fresh produce. When our relationship ended, and I moved out on my own, I immediately sensed the emptiness of my new apartment. I missed the plants.

I went to Frank’s Nursery and Craft and purchased several houseplants and cacti. I bought pots and potting soil. I tended to these plants and discovered a nurturing side of myself and a need to grow things. My plants flourished. They grew huge and became centerpieces of attraction for all who came to visit a bachelor pad I shared with two roommates. Our houseplants were the envy of many female visitors to our little pad.

I had a talent for growing things. I even experimented with some seeds I had found in a purchase I had made for recreational pleasures. Again, my plants grew large, strong and powerful. My friends and I harvested more than a years supply of buds that was shared between 5-10 thirty-something bachelors. My success in growing this item was not to be repeated.

Upon moving to New York State to attend graduate school, my girlfriend, and soon to be wife, rented a small cottage in Schenectady, NY. In the small backyard I started a compost pile and made a small garden plot of vegetables and flowers. In the Front yard, I created a spot to grow the three sisters (corn, beans and squash). Growing Sweet corn right along the sidewalk in an urban area is bound to become a neighborhood attraction and conversation piece.

When we moved back to MN into a suburban home I began a backyard conversion of lawn into a large garden. Over three years I planted strawberries, red raspberries, blue berries and concord grape vines. My garden area grew from a 10 by 10 foot plot to eventually cover nearly the entire backyard which now stands at 110 by 50 foot plot. We have an apple tree and a pear tree. I created a series of raised beds and trellis to grow my plants to the heavens and save room on the ground. I mulch heavily and have a rich compost that I prepare with neighborhood discarded leaves and grass clippings, our kitchen waste, discarded plants, and added soil amendments (Sea Salt and azomite).

I have set up rain barrels in front of the four downspouts that drain the water from our roof and have four more barrels that collect the overflow. I hand water everything, but my soil holds a lot of moisture, so I don’t have to water too often. I don’t use any chemical fertilizers or herbicides and pesticides. I plant clover in the aisles between the raised beds, but welcome an occasional weed if it is not interfering with my harvested plants. Otherwise I control weeds by mulching and pulling. All of this tending the garden is full time work when I am not working for pay at my day job. It is work that I do not abhor, in fact, it is work I love doing and work that makes me understand authors like Wendell Berry and his reflections upon work.

During the height of the harvest we have over 40 blooming tomato plants, 30 some pepper plants, potatoes, garlic, onions, bush beans, pole beans, peas, carrots, lettuce, kale, swiss chard, broccoli, cauliflower, brussels sprouts, herbs, squash, pumpkins, sweet corn and many other herb and flowers. Our freezer quickly fills with stored produce (fruits and veggies) and our cellar bins fill with garlic, potatoes, squash and apples. We can pickles and jellies and fill large jars with brines with other vegetables. We dry peppers, too and then settle into a long winter of preparing for the next season.

What amazes me is how easy it is to grow things, but how often I am approached by others for gardening advice. Many times I am told tales of woe about an inability to tend a garden or even to grow a plant. I have no secrets. I am perplexed by these inquires from others. I suppose I have what is called a green thumb. I care for my plants and they grow. It’s as simple as that. I don’t neglect them. I watch their growth from seed to bloom/fruit and grow right along side of them. I don’t miss a step along the way, because I am excited for their growth as they appear to be. As much as I nourish them, they nourish me. I suppose that’s the secret to a green thumb as much as anything.

Notes to My Son

2009-03-31T15:51:00.000-05:00

Beauty is a manifestation of God, the Great Mystery, Creation or whatever you want to call it. Worry is a manifestation of your own mind. If your mind is occupied with worry and anxiety, focus on what is beautiful in the world. If that is difficult to do at home or at work, schedule a trip where you will be surrounded by God’s creations. These places can be close by. Remember our hiking trips on the trails.

What is economics

2009-03-30T16:15:00.002-05:00

So far, my posts on economics have been fairly general if not lame. I have been trying to come up with an approach to talking about the economy that is unique or that would provide insight into its workings that are not available elsewhere. During the current economic crisis there are many cogent examples of intelligent analysis that one can turn to for insight. Paul Krugman, James K. Gailbraith, Amartya Sen, and Joseph Stiglitz are a few of many people I turn to for wisdom regarding the global financial system and the roots of the current crisis as well as proposed solutions. I agree with much of their analysis.

But, it is also true, that I disagree fundamentally with each of these economists in regard to their approach to their field. Economists are trained to do a particular analytical type of analysis that has a heavy reliance upon statistics and mathematics. There is nothing wrong with turning to statistics (or econometrics) or mathematics when doing economic analysis and looking for some insights into how economies function. However, over the last 60 years, as econometrics and neoclassical economics—with heavy reliance upon mathematical analysis and modeling—have increased in importance, economic analysis relying upon rhetoric and storytelling has been shunted aside and the field of economics has become increasingly hermetic and unintelligible to the average person.

My goal is to tell a story about economics that brings this trend toward mathematics into sharp focus, but does not veer away from the ultimate story about what the economy does and how it allows us to live in the world. To do this we have to start from the beginning and describe what economics is.

When I was a graduate student in economics, I taught an introductory level undergraduate course in economics. On the first day of class, I asked all my students to define what economics was. There were as many definitions as there were students. Most of the definitions said something about money. After going through my students answers I told them that Economics is the study of the economy, which begs the question, “what is the economy?”

Lets begin with the standard neoclassical definition of Economics. Lionel Robbins provides the modern definition of economics as “Economics is the science which studies human behavior as a relationship between given ends and scarce means which have alternative uses.” This differs markedly from Alfred Marshalls turn of the century definition that states economics as “a study of mankind in the ordinary business of life.” Marshalls definition is much more general and allows much more to fall under the rubric of economics and what it is that economists study. Marshal elaborates further to say that economics “examines that part of individual and social action which is most closely connected with the attainment and with the use of the material requisites of wellbeing. Thus it is on one side a study of wealth; and on the other, and more important side, a part of the study of man.”

What Marshall was one of the fathers of welfare economics and Robbins did not think economics should be concerned with concepts that were not measurable. Thus, Robbins became the father of a more rigorous economics that tried to study only what was measurable. The influence of Marshall and Robbins was enormous among modern economics known as neoclassical. However, in Marshalls time there were still economists, such as Thorstein Veblen, who relied upon rhetorical analysis and focused on the “more important side, a part of the study of man.” Robbins definition refined Marshalls Welfare analysis, which created supply and demand curves with the Lagrangian equations behind them, and cast aside all analysis from economics that could not be appropriately measured.

Robbins definition of economics as “the science which studies human behavior as a relationship between given ends and scarce means which have alternative uses,” restricts the study of human behavior to relationships. These relationships are all measured using price as the common metric. The given ends are what is produced for consumption and the means are the resources we use to produce them. The alternative uses refer to the choices we make for both production and consumption. All of this is captured inside of equations describing relationships between ends and means with price as the common metric tying them together. Price is the quantity of money, so we can see how the influence of money to the study of economics became the dominating focus of economics until it becomes difficult to think of the economy without thinking of money.

We compare products and make choices based upon price and the amount of money we have. When the price of a product goes up, we demand less of that product, ceteris paribus. When price goes up, producers also wish to produce more to that product, ceteris paribus. The result of all this economic analysis is the false impression that we can measure and predict our choices. No other social sciences come close to economics lofty ambitions for predicting human behavior, although many, such as psychology, are trying very high. Because of this, economics is often referred to as the queen of the social sciences and is said to be closer to a science than all other social sciences – even offering a yearly Nobel prize to economists for their contributions to the science.

I want to go back to describing the economy using rhetoric and focus more on the study of humanity by observation and not necessarily by measurement and relationships. Rhetoric is often called the art of persuasion and many people think it is inferior to science or mathematics because it does not reveal a truth or essence, but rather is capable of tricking or fooling someone into believing a false conclusion. Although it is true that some one may be able to lead a person to the wrong conclusion, rhetoric also requires one to make a compelling argument and allows the reader to come to their own conclusions based upon the evidence provided from the author.

In rhetorical economics, the author (me) is not trying to prove an economic insight or accurately predict the future. It the author could do either of these things he most assuredly would. However, the author believes that neoclassical economics with its overreliance upon mathematics and econometrics is also engaged in rhetoric. Neoclassical rhetoric operates under a false rubric that defines itself as science and claims to be offering proofs instead of evidence.
But, the main drawback of neoclassical economics is that it has become a field in which only a few are baptized and allowed the keys for understanding and then truths are revealed from the high priests above in which we all are supposed to accept without question. If Economics is a part of the study of humanity we should all be able to engage in this discussion.

The Greatest Rock - n - Roll Band Never Heard

2009-03-30T15:45:00.020-05:00

I don’t play in a band anymore. I have an acoustic guitar stored in the basement of my suburban house, but it rarely comes out of its case. I work for the State of Minnesota regulating utilities. This position makes use of a Masters in Economic that I received after giving up completely on a dream to be a professional musician.

In the spring of 1994, I was working in St. Paul, MN as a mail carrier for the United States Postal Service. I was wearing my headphones, listening to the radio for updates on Kurt Cobain who had gone missing for almost a week. I was not surprised when word came in that his body had been found with an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound to his head. Kurt Cobain had taken the deal I turned down earlier from the same mysterious dark man with steely dark eyes many would refer to as the devil. Cobain met him on a crossroad in rural Washington or, perhaps, an alley in the Seattle urban area. I met him at a crossroads on the outskirts of Fargo in the summer of 1988. Three years later I walked away from the same dark man as he cursed my name from the same crossroads outside Fargo.

As I listened to the reports of Cobain’s death coming in, I realized that the world would have surely be hearing of my similar tragic demise had it been I, instead of Kurt, who took the deal for rock-n-roll stardom. As it was, I was suffering through my own curses when the news of his death reached me. However, since I eventually walked away from the devil, my demons were much milder than Cobain’s. I turned down his offer, but it was not without consequences and it took many more years of battle of suffering the Devil’s curses that haunt me to this day.

It was August in1990 when I was making my second trip to the crossroads to seal the deal I had made a couple of years earlier with this mysterious dark man. I was walking along a gravel road with my guitar case concealing a Gibson Sonix 180 guitar and following in the footsteps of the great blues guitar playing legend Robert Johnson. It was a road outside of Fargo, North Dakota, and a long way from the Mississippi Delta. On this hot day in August outside of Fargo however, I assumed this flatland plain along the Red River of the North was an equally attractive place to meet the force from the dark side so I could seal the deal for my rock and roll future. It could not have been any less hospitable place for the tyrant of eternal hell fires than the flat plains of the Mississippi where Johnson made his deal more than 60 years earlier.

It was 5:00 in the morning and the air was thick with humidity as the temperature still hovered in the high 80’s. I had walked several miles after the bars closed, through the city streets of Fargo until I reached a dusty road south of the city past Interstate 94. I was still feeling the effects of several pitchers of beer served up to me and my band mates by Bob at Ralph’s Corner Bar in Moorhead just across the bridge from Fargo. As I walked my mind was on the band and the recent streak of bad luck we had experienced.

Floored was just starting to get attention in Fargo and soon the local colleges would fill the campuses with students during the days and the bars with young drinkers at night. We were playing well and our sound was bigger than anything you could find on the radio or even on records from bands that were playing in Minneapolis. Many bands, like the Geardaddies, Run Westy Run, Soul Asylum and Jonestown from Minneapolis, knew of us as a great little secret from backwards Fargo. However, our drummer, Rodney, had just been kicked out of his house in north Moorhead leaving us without a practice space. My girlfriend, Sweet Anne, was in Montana and I was feeling the pains of lost love. My former best friend and another band sidekick, Manny Breeze, had a fling with Sweet Anne before she left to Montana leaving a fistfight between best friends in her wake. This proved to be a blessing for Floored, since the band with Manny, Diddy Wah Diddy, was probably not as viable as Floored. But, I was depressed as I walked to the crossroad to offer the rest of my life to Rock-n-roll and seal a deal for Floored that would finally bring rock stardom to all of us.

I had learned of the crossroads from my friend Spooky. Spooky was a piano player—the best one in Fargo. He would play in the back room at Ralph’s for all of us. He had his own band called Spooky Chunks. Although he was only slightly older than all of us, we considered him the wise old sage musician and he was an inspiration to each of us. He would leave town periodically and come back at random intervals. When he was in town he stayed at Rodney’s house and joined us in after hours jams until early dawn when he’d finally announce he had “crickets in his ears.”

Spooky was the one who told me of the crossroads south of Fargo. I wasn’t sure of the exact spot, but after many late nights of wandering and days of driving I found what I assumed was the spot. That was the first time I met the Man with the dark soul, before I had been given the gift of guitar playing to go with my raw and nascent songwriting abilities. When I met the dark man at the crossroads the first time, he ordered me to come back later when I was ready. He gave me some inspiration and cursed me for a portion of my soul and put a retainer on the rest.

Now, I found myself wandering the same route to the crossroad on a hot sticky night outside Fargo to sell what was left of my already seriously compromised soul. I had a long walk to think about what I was going to do. A lot was on my mind-Sweet Anne, Manny, Betsy, Mary, Heather, Molesy, Thumpy, Rodney and, mostly, Spooky. The talk at Ralph’s that night was some recent news we had received from Minneapolis. Spooky was in the hospital.

He had been on the roof of a three-story apartment building dancing, naked under the light of a full moon. He was doing his patented spooky jig that ended up taking him over the edge of the building before he fell and landed on a stair railing in the middle of the night. Spooky would never walk or dance his jig again. He broke his spine completely through in two spots. Spooky was the best blues piano player ever in Fargo and might have been on his way to Blue immortality when the Devil came to collect his dues. Spooky had made the same walk I was making several years earlier and now he would never walk again.

I was contemplating my fate, weighing the pros and the cons of what lie ahead. I knew I was considering a shortened life for a brief period of fame and possibly putting myself in the same class as Dee-Dee Ramone, Keith Richard, Sid Viscious, Bob Stinson, Jimi Hendrix and others. We had already reached the height of a very good rock and roll band - maybe even great. From my perspective, based upon the raw power we could generate that transposrted each of us to the mysterious and unexplainable, we were equal to any band I had ever heard on record or seen live in a club. But, we were stuck in Fargo where the police broke up our parties quickly due to noise complaints and bar owners kicked us off the stage for being too loud.

This story should be accompanied by a soundtrack, but unfortunately the soundtrack does not exist. There would be Gremlin Stomp playing in the background as Molesy stumbled home on a snowy and drunken February evening, Blue Fields of Wheat playing during the adult exploits each of us partook with Betsy our local porn queen, Queen Geraldine whenever I held sweet Anne in my gaze, Guaranteed to Bleed as my fists drove into Manny’s face crushing his nose and cheekbones and I Can’t Get my Dick Up at the appropriate Rodney moment.

But, alas, the music meant to accompany this story has been lost to everyone but me. There are others who remember, particularly my band mates Thumpy and Rodney. My occasional recent conversations shared with them discussing those far away days reveal a shared nostalgia for the music we created almost twenty years ago in Fargo. However, even their memory is tempered when compared to my own. The memory of Floored in each of their minds is one of failure to rise to the level I thought we had reached. Rodney revealed to me he still has some recordings in his apartment in New York City and his descriptions of these recordings today does not support the memory I have of what came roaring from our amps and fingertips. But Thumpy and Rodney never made the trip to the crossroads. I was the only one to make that trip, although each of us paid a price for the curse the man with the steely eyes put upon me. Paul and Rodney’s pursuits for careers in music were similarly cut short by my breaking of the contract I had signed at the crossroads. For that, they were tantalized with limited success in a band called Hammerhead and the subsequent failures accompanying it.

I spent three years living in Fargo from 1988 to 1991 playing in three bands – Diddy wah Diddy, Hammerhead and Floored. I arrived as a twenty-two year old singer/songwriter with limited rhythm guitar playing abilities. I could strum a few chords and string together some songs. After my initial meeting with the devil, I became one of his potential minions capable of harnessing power and magic from my fingertips as they danced along the fret board of my cheap Gibson guitars before releasing it to anyone who dared stand in front of our amps to feel the full force of our songs. We played sparingly to only a few people who remain largely unknown. Later we learned we had actually built up a group of core fans that went on to make the “scene” in Fargo that became modestly famous along the same line as so many other local scenes around the country lasting months to years and producing a limited fame among national audiences.

From 1988 to 1991 however, there was nothing that could be described as a scene except for a small following that included some young and beautiful high school and college girls from nearby small towns willing to play the role of rock groupies for us. Those days from my early twenties created memories that would last a lifetime. In those three years, I did more living than the more than twenty years I have lived since. It seemed everything we touched turned to magic; it seemed that beauty was to be found in every direction we chose to perceive - it seemed I touched something I would never get a chance to touch again, for better or worse.

I have talked to a few others who witnessed some shows of Floored in Fargo. This small group of people is of varying opinions of what they witnessed on the stages of Kirby’s, the back room of Ralph’s, frat parties at North Dakota State University, gigs at area colleges and parties in the house where we practiced in North Moorhead. My memory of the music remains resolute even amongst those who remember a loud, drunk and obnoxious band. I know what we were. We were the greatest rock and roll band never heard.

Alone

2009-03-27T15:55:00.004-05:00

The older I get, the more solitary I become. I spend more time with my family, but even during this “quality time” I spend many a moment transfixed in my own thoughts. I am often startled back to attention by my wife’s words to my son, “Daddy isn’t listening honey, he’s thinking of something else again.” I’ll quickly try to cover for myself and reach back to the last words I can recall in the discussion, but usually she’s right. So, what am I thinking about and why? Usually, a lot about nothing.

We have been called social animals and it is true, we are. We are defined by our relationships and without them we would not exist. Our thoughts are meaningless without language to guide them and language is the tool that connects us with other humans. But, still, why do I feel so often that I am alone?

I am sitting in a coffee shop and I can feel my heart beating and I am reading of Adam Smith whose heart stopped beating almost a quarter of a millennium ago. As I look around observing everyone walking to and fro, some young, some old, I realize that in another quarter of a millennium all of our hearts will have also stopped beating a long long time ago.

What will that moment be like – when my heart stops beating? Will I know it at the time – that my heart will never make another beat. Will I know my last thought? Will I know when my body will no longer be seeking nourishment or eliminating its last bit of waste.

Of course, my genes will live on in another being whom I am aware of – love deeply – but it cannot be said I know his thoughts, nor will I live on in them. And, yet, I will – in his thoughts, but not my own which will have ceased at some point in the future.

Just as Adam Smith’s thoughts are still alive, my son will keep me alive in his thoughts as he goes through the rest of his life – stuck and immersed inside his own head monitoring his own heart beating. At least that is what I wish, should a catastrophe not fall and my son be taken from me before his time. His thoughts must live beyond my own, for my own sense of worth and being.

I see my father as he is in the last phase of his life. His brain still working, working well, but his thoughts not as cogent as they once were. He is part of me. He raised me. But, he does not have access to my thoughts. Nobody does. We are each alone even as we sit together and speak of baseball games and fishing trips.

My wife is social. She talks. She comes from a family of talkers. I mystify her. She mistakes my quietness for self-assuredness and wisdom. Many people do, but she is my wife. You would think she would know by now. Of course, in many ways she does, but she still thinks I am a thinker. I suppose I am smart. I mean I do think. I think a lot. But, I am not solving quadratic equations in my mind.

I read many other people’s thoughts, too. The ones they put down on paper. Some tell stories and we call them novels. They entertain me, but they also reveal to me the thoughts of the author. Brilliant men and woman, much smarter than I, thinking about what to put down on a paper for me to pick up to read, many of who’s hearts stopped beating a long time ago.

Other authors provide me with a different perspective on many problems in the world worth contemplating. Often when I decide to speak, I have this information readily at hand. People take this for me being smart – knowledgeable. Sometimes, when I contradict someone, they take me for a pompous fool. Indignant, they would say to themselves, if I could read their thoughts.

But, most of the time I cannot, because usually they don’t write them down. They walk away without saying anything and we both leave with only our own thoughts as we wonder what the other might be thinking. Judging each other as we rerun the conversation in our minds and continue it forward all inside our own minds, because our hearts are still beating and we can for as long as we can continue to nourish our bodies, breathing the air and taking in all of the creation.

We each may wonder about our souls, but our bodies and our brains are confined to this earth and one day our bodies will stop working and our thoughts will cease. Then we might find out about our souls, perhaps.

In some ways I am sure I am much larger than what is confined inside my body. What is it my dreams stand for otherwise? I am a part of the ecosystem that has its own metabolism and thoughts. Or is this just a delusion I use to deal with the loneliness of my existence and the knowledge that some day my thoughts will cease.

For that matter, is this why I write down my thoughts? Can I not bear the thought of the conversation ending? Do I delude myself into thinking that by having my thoughts written down others will keep them alive? Of course, this is a worthy goal. Who would not want to be part of the great conversations that live on with Aristotle, Dostoevsky, Nietzsche, Kierkegaard and others? But, even if we can get our thoughts down for the next generations to read this will not keep our own brains alive. For what I wrote twenty years ago does not keep the twenty year old young man alive. Some day my thoughts will cease and my heart will stop beating. I am confined inside this body. We can share thoughts in conversation as long as I am still alive. But, some day this possibility will end.

And when it ends, it will end as lonely as it was when it all began, but much more abruptly. I was not aware of my first thought, but I will be aware of my last even as I am incapable of remembering it. My last thought will not be in conversation with another. It will be alone and I will not be able to share it just as I have not really been able to share with you what it is like to sit here alone and listen to my own heart beat. But, you know that anyway. Perhaps we don’t need to share that. We are each alone even if we are social. We will always be alone in our thoughts.

Economics: Crisis

2009-03-27T15:53:00.000-05:00

First of all, I just want to say, I predicted this current financial crisis a long time ago. I have been saying it for years. Everyone who knows me personally as heard me say it is all a house of cards and one day it will all come down. I said it would inevitably happen, the only question was when. So, is this it?

Has the house of cards finally fell? Yes and no.

What I was saying was two things. On the one hand I said that the US could not continue to mount a debt and have other countries finance it. Eventually, those holding the debt would come calling. It was no secret that U.S. households as well as the U.S. government were living beyond its means. The only thing of value that the US exported to the rest of the world was its military might and why would countries continue to finance our bullying around the world.

So, I said that house of cards would fall soon and this is what appears to be underway right now. I thought it would come sooner, but with each passing year as the debt mounted and the cards stacked higher, I predicted the crisis would be that much greater. I was Chicken Little. I told those that listened that eventually our troops would be stranded in Iraq, because we would be too broke to bring them home. Hmm… I am certainly a nutjob at times. But, my point was still that we could not continue on the pace we were going at. What is troubling is that Obama’s plan to get us out of this mess is still too much of the same thing that got us into this mess. While the debt mounted, the wealth distribution in this country was increasingly being divided between the haves and have-nots. Under Obama’s plan this will continue. The consolidation of wealth and power has never been in so few hands and the ones in the Obama administration writing the plans to get us out of the present financial crisis are the ones who got us into trouble in the first place.

In a way it can’t be any other way. I always said that to get where he is, Obama had to shake hands with a lot of dirty players. The financial sector paid for Obama’s campaign by and large and the deal that was cut was that they would be in charge of certain operations, one of them being any bail-outs or regulations of the finance industry. What else do people make these large donations for, but to further their own interests? Obama’s hands are tied.

But, that does not mean he can’t or won’t do something to make life better for those who actually voted for him, if not the ones who paid his way. Its just that his options are limited.

But, there is another way that our economy was doomed that is much more fundamental and structural than the finance industry and the fact that there were risky investments made by large financial institutions with unregulated derivatives and hedge funds that would some day crash just as every other bubble has done before it. Even if we can get out from under this financial crash, we are still up against another wall or limit. The other crisis I was always warning of to anyone who would listen were limits to growth. Something here would eventually give as well. We could not grow our economy forever. Sooner or later we would come up to a limit that had nothing to do with wealth distributions and debtors/creditors. This limit was with out environment and ecology as well as our own technological limits. We would not be able to solve all our problems with technology, because each technological solution to an environmental problem creates a larger problem waiting down the road. In a way this is similar to the financial crisis where we have been offering temporary solutions time and time again over the last half century as we moved from one crisis to the next forestalling the next bigger crisis until we arrive at where we are today where the solution being offered is again only temporary.

With the ecological crisis (and I am not talking about climate change which is really a small and irrelevant problem compared to other environmental limits imo) we can grow no more without causing more hardship. There are no technological solutions. Human ingenuity has reached its environmental limits. The Earth just becomes too small to support our entire economy and we are forced to adjust through various measures including famine, death and disease until our present means of living and economy are long gone and we learn to once again live day to day with little surplus to carry over and barter with others. That day has not come, yet, but it still awaits us in the future. This present financial crisis says nothing about how close we are to the true economic crisis which will end our civilization as we know it. I’m not sure we can avoid it and if our reaction to this financial crisis is any indicator, we will almost certainly not. We will continue to march right up to our doom.

Notes to my Son

2009-03-27T15:52:00.001-05:00

It is hard not to find evidence for God in the world. There are so many unexplainable and mysterious examples of beauty and perfection around us. Accepting that there is a God is easy. Accepting that there is evil as well is difficult, despite the equal amount of unexplainable and mysterious examples of ugliness and imperfections around us. The universe is far from perfect and God cannot make it so, because there is an equally powerful force in the world to destroy us along with God’s creations. Beware of that force.

Introductory Economics: Foundations

2009-03-06T16:38:00.002-06:00

Before I get into simplifying the economy for clarification purposes by talking about households, I think I should address something I brought up in my previous post on economics. I said that the reason I studied economics was to answer certain questions I had about the world. What were these questions?

My first questions were not necessarily economic questions. The questions I had in my mind as a young and impressionable undergraduate were philosophical ones. What is the meaning of life? Why is there injustice in the world? Who has power? What is democracy? Why is there war and hate in the world? What should I do with my life? With my limited experience and understanding of the world, the best answers I could come up with any for any of these questions had to do with money, as in the instruction – follow the money. In other words, my intuition told me that if I could understand how the economy worked, I would be much closer to having answers to all the above philosophical questions that plague many a young and inquisitive mind.

My first college economic course was taught by a raving free market economic lunatic who would later host a conservative economic blog that brought him national prominence. He was a fascinating teacher and he instilled in me the economic notion that people operate according to what is in their best interest. This is a basic assumption in economics. Assumptions are important to economic thought and theory. Most of the underlying assumptions for economics, such as people make decisions based upon what is in their best interest, are not only conceivable, but are not overly objectionable. The assumptions that are taught in introductory economics are important because they form the mathematical foundations of a theory that is taught in upper level and graduate economic courses. I will go into these assumptions in greater detail in another post. Suffice it to say that the final outcome of this assumption of individuals making decisions according to what is in their best interests is homo-economicus or economic man.
Economic theory postulates a society populated by economic man; an entire population of identical actors making decisions that will maximize each of their happiness and the result of this is a society that is the most well off. The fin de siècle economist and social critic, Thorstein Veblen, described these economic actors called homo-economicus as “homogeneous globules of desire.”

Some of this may be familiar to those of you who have suffered through the introductory economics course while you were an undergraduate student. The mere mention of introductory economic classes to most individuals can bring a sense of insecurity. I have often heard statements such as, “the only course that I got a C in was Intro to Econ,” or “I don’t remember much from the class except how incomprehensible it was.”

Introductory Economics provides the first exposure to concepts such as supply and demand curves, general equilibrium, consumer and producer surplus, price elasticity, gains from trade, comparative advantage, prisoner dilemmas, externalities, perfect competition and other economic concepts that can be a trying and forgetful experiences. However, what often sticks in peoples minds from these courses are certain counter intuitive concepts that were apparently proved to the young student using the economic model introduced in these classes; i.e., minimum wage actually will end up hurting young and poor wage earners, restrictions on trade are detrimental to economy, or that taxes from the government will undoubtedly lower the overall welfare in society. The actual details of the proof are lost to most of us, but the enthusiasm of the instructor who introduced these concepts to many people remains and are vehemently trotted out as absolute proofs daily around the blogosphere today.

As we are bombarded with news reports about the falling stock market, unemployment figures and bank failures, I don’t think an understanding of economic theory is necessarily going to help us understand exactly why our economy has failed this time around, because there are no simple answers and economic theory is a simplification of a very complex process. However, there is a very important reason for getting a handle on exactly what the economic theory says and that is the fact that we should know enough to know when economists are basing their opinions on a theory that is a simplification and the conclusions drawn from these theories are not always applicable or helpful when dealing with real world problems. A famous economist from the past, Joan Robinson, once said, “the purpose of studying economics is not to acquire a set of ready-made answers to economic questions, but to learn how to avoid being deceived by economists.
Simplifying for the sake of understanding concepts is a very good thing, but we should also understand all the assumptions that underlie these models of simplification. The result of many people’s exposure to a limited set of neoclassical economic ideas is often fundamentalist maxims such as “government is awful and cannot do anything worthwhile,” “restrictions on trade are always bad for both importing nations and exporting nations,” and/or “raising the minimum wage will always lead to lowering the welfare of the least well off people in society.” People often believe they have discovered a Truth about the world after sitting through the introductory courses on economics and then want to go out and change the world to conform to the simple models they were introduced to in these classes often with the encouragement of professors or entire economic universities or think tanks espousing similar ideas at the expense of intellectual honesty.

Whenever you hear the cry from people or pundits that the we must have “free markets” or “lower taxes” or call any government program “socialist,” you can be sure that these people or pundits are informed by these simplified models in economics and are using them to their advantage. For there is one truth from economics that we can take away introductory economics that does provide light on individuals who describe themselves as “capitalists” and “free market activists” while calling those of us who criticize such fundamentalist beliefs “socialists.” These individuals are doing what we all do; they are operating according to what is in their own best interest because there is a hell of a lot of money at stake in the economy. I sometimes think we should all carry around certain moral assumptions when we are in possession of objective models that we are told provide us with scientific proof. Moral assumptions such as “power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely,” and that wealth is the surest means for obtaining power, because there is nothing objective about those who ask for the freedom to do whatever they wish to do with their wealth regardless of the negative effects this may cause society. These people want money and power and they will do what ever it takes to obtain it and to hold on to it. This is the meaning and motivation behind many large and historical events we witness in the world that we place the label “evil” upon.

It looks like I will have to wait for households and a simplified model of economics for another day. Don’t worry, we will get to it. I’m not sure if will be the next post or one further down the line. Actually, I have no idea what the structure of format for all these posts on economics will look like. But, we will get to the nitty-gritty sooner of later.

An Embodiment of Evil

2009-03-06T16:36:00.003-06:00

I might be prone to conspiracy theories. I’m cynical by nature and I rarely trust official versions of stories given to us. I don’t think I am alone in believing that it is entirely possible that there were more people involved in the assassination of John F. Kennedy than Lee Harvey Oswald. I am also open to the possibility that we will never know the true version of events that happened on that November afternoon in Dallas in 1963. I was also immediately suspicious when my senator’s plane crashed on October 25, 2003 killing him, his wife and daughter and all other passengers. Does being suspicious make me a conspiracy theorist? If so, then my doubts about the events of September 11, 2001 must also make me prone to outrageous allegations by crackpots, etc.

I am not going to join the listing of blogs our in the blogosphere calling for Truth about the events of 911. I don’t know what happened that day anymore than anyone else does. However, there are enough inconsistencies in the official version of what happened that day to make anyone who does believe what the government tells us happened on that day much more susceptible to “tin hat” theories and crackpots than those that question what happened.

I’m not an expert and I am as susceptible to flawed information as anyone else. However, David Ray Griffin has presented enough questions and evidence that contradict what the government and the 911 commission have told us happened that day. These questions have not been answered. I don’t want to argue those questions and put my opinion out there as another among many in the Truth 911 movement. If you want to know more, go read David Ray Griffin’s books and come to your own conclusions. Here is a small list of the unexplained phenomena that happened that fateful day.

1. Why didn’t US defenses scramble to intercept any of those three flights that day?

2. How did inexperienced pilots with a record of poor flying manage to fly these jets to their targets in three of the four cases?

3. How did 3 (not 2) skyscrapers collapse at a freefall speed into their own footprint due to fire and minimal structural damage on that day (the first time ever that any skyscraper anywhere in the world has collapsed because of a fire).

4. Recorded Phone calls made from passenger on the four planes on that day when technology in 2001 would not have allowed those phone calls to go through.

5. The Pentagon building damage was not consistent with damage of a plane hitting it

6. other inconsistencies in the pentagon “attack”

7. The reports of named highjackers still be alive.

8. inconsistencies in the report of flight 93 and the apparent crash after passengers rushed the cockpit.

There are more inconsistencies and much evidence that makes the official version of what happened on that day unconvincing. This is the problem that most people have with those that question the official version. If four planes were not highjacked on September 11, 2001 by operatives of Al Qaeda and flown in the twin towers, pentagon, and a field in Pennsylavnia, if this version of events is not true, then what other explanation is there. The only other possible explanation is that we were attacked by someone else with the involvement of many top level officials in our government, military and corporate institutions and this explanation seems more implausible than the official theory.

I don’t think this is true however, especially in light of what we now know about the administration at the time and all the lies and criminal acts they were involved in such as the selling of the Iraq war to the nation, torture, extraordinary renditions, US attorney general scandal, etc. I don’t doubt that there was the necessary evil consolidated in top level positions to pull off an attack by our own government against its own people to bring about a change in our government, make the case for war in the Middle East, and continue to privatize our military while making huge contracts available to a few corporate entities. It wouldn’t be the first time pure evil had found itself in a position of power and made decisions leading to catastrophic events and the deaths of thousands if not millions of people. I am not a religious man, but I do have a belief in good and evil and I can entertain the idea of a cosmological war being played out in front of us between God and the Devil. How else can you explain a historical anomaly like Hitler and the extermination of millions of Jews? Likewise, I think it is a perfectly plausible explanation that George W. Bush, Karl Rove, Dick Cheney, Donald Rumsfeld, Condoleezza Rice, and others in that administration were agents of the Devil set forth to bring evil and destruction to God’s creation on this Earth. For we should also not forget how the administration came into power with the dubious election of 2000 and the Supreme Court intervention in Florida as well as their dubious reelection in 2004 with all the election anomalies in Ohio and around the nation. Could there not have been some help from an evil powerful entity making all this possible?

Another, more human, explanation is that they were drunk with thoughts of wealth and power that accompanied the Presidency and a consolidation of powers and were eager to bring about a cultural change in America to benefit a small few while instituting a new neoconservative ideology into the largest superpower in the world. Regardless of whether evil is a human or metaphysical construct, I have no doubt that it is possible for certain events to arise that only the most heinous explanations will provide us a level of understanding for what happened on those days. And once we allow us the possibilities that are increasingly becoming actualities, such as that the administration condoned use of torture, the firing of US attorney Generals for not investigating dubious allegations of voter fraud, spying on US citizens with wiretaps, lying to get us into war, etc., it becomes more and more believable that nothing was out of the question for reaching the objectives set out for by this administration even before they came to power in 2000. Events such as the election night frauds in 2000 and 2004, the orchestrating of an attack killing thousands of US citizens on our own soil, and downing an aircraft of a sitting US Senator who was most oppositional (with a considerable level of influence) to the administrations wants become not only possible, but even likely if we are ready to accept that a certain amount of evil was in charge of our Democratic institutions for a period of time in the US. Perhaps this evil has always been there and is still there at some level. All I know is that it is possible.

Notes To My Son

2009-03-06T16:34:00.001-06:00

Periods of monotony and melancholy will, at times, seem endless and insurmountable in comparison to those brief moments of absolute joy and fulfillment in your life. These brief interludes of bliss interspersed amongst the long periods of repetitiveness and glum are what sustain us in life, however. You provided me with many of these sustaining moments of euphoria.

Introduction to Economics

2009-02-27T16:09:00.003-06:00

As the banks fail and our economy suffers, there are many who think the recession we now find ourselves in will be much worse than any previously for most of our previous histories. Most of us did not live through the Great Depression and this recession has a feel that is closer to a depression than any recession that we all have lived through. What happened?

In many ways it is not hard to explain. I have wondered for years when the house of cards would collapse. But, of course, the economy is much more complex than any simple explanation, but economists thrive upon simplifications. I was trained as an economist, so I will attempt to start with simple explanations.

First, I want to say that I hope to write a series of posts on the economy as an exercise for myself. I hope these posts can be of some benefit to others, but mostly I am trying to formulate thoughts that have been swimming around my mind since I was an undergrad trying to form into a coherent economic theory that I was convinced would explain much of what I experience in the world. I abandoned this pursuit while striving to complete a PhD in economics while in graduate school, partly because I had become disillusioned by the framework within which all PhD in economics are written. When it became obvious to me that my dissertation would not explain much about the anything I was experiencing in the world, I provoked a fight with my advisor that led eventually to me spending the last year of my grad school experience taking philosophy and mathematical courses while nixing economics as a field worthy of further investigation.

The framework in economics has been called the neoclassical theory of economics and usually demands statistical analysis of some segment in the economy with a large enough data set to make some sort of judgment on a particular sector or segment in the economy based upon the neoclassical theory. Although, some will argue that there are alternative theories to neoclassical economics that can be found in graduate programs under the heading of heterodox, these schools still have a neoclassical basis and are some variation of the neoclassical model. Even the behavioralists that have been getting much recent attention merely provoke minor criticisms of the rational actor called homo-economicus by study actual human behavior that demonstrate a more complex and varied human that underlies the assumptions of the neoclassical model. However, these variations in human behaviors have not produced a coherent of workable model for understanding the economy.

I never came up with a theory or model for economics that would have been a better alternative to the neoclassical model used in all university graduate programs in economics. If I could have developed an alternative theory to present for a dissertation it would have never been approved by a committee in my graduate university economics department nor would it have been accepted in any other economic department at any other university in the world. Because any alternative I could have come up with as an alternative to the neoclassical model would have been outside the scope of economics as it is studied in economic departments around the world today, although it may have begun to answer many of the economic questions I came to my graduate studies with.

This series of posts on the economy will be an attempt to work outside the boundaries of neoclassical theory and answer economic questions that I, and I hope others, have had for many years. It will stumble from topic to topic, but I hope, in the end, to have a coherent theory or explanation of our modern economic system and prescriptions for many of the ailments in our economy that have befallen us. And, if not, well…I suppose it will be still fun to try, although it may be painful for you to read. Also, bear in mind, that most of these posts will come unedited and will be the result of the free flow of thoughts as they leave my mind and make their way to my fingers upon the keyboard. The fruitful results, if any, may someday be formed into a more coherent whole. All right, lets begin.

Our economy collapsed or is in the process of collapsing, because we have become a nation of consumers purchasing from a very few select producers often referred to as the corporations. Wait, that is only part of the story (I warned you there were going to be some if not many simplifications). Actually, those suffering from the current collapse are consumers who no longer can afford to purchase from the producers and also large producers who can’t find consumers who will purchase what they produce. How did we get to this stage?

We have to begin by asking what an economy is and what we want an economy to do. An economy is a distribution mechanism. It distributes goods throughout society by some means. One of these means is a market where people come together to buy and sell these goods. Markets are efficient ways to distribute goods. Markets are also human inventions that operate according to rules written by humans. There is no such thing as a free market that operates outside of these written or agreed upon rules. Sometimes the rules are written to be favorable to some groups or individuals. Sometimes rules are written to exclude individuals from participating as either a consumer of producer in a market. Sometimes the reasons behind these types of rules are fair and sometimes they are not. The presence or absence of these rules has no bearing on whether a market is free or not, because, of course, there is no such thing as a free market. Markets would not exist unless they were invented by humans and these inventions require rules of participation and operations.

Sometimes individuals, groups or governments extract a price for participating in the market. There are an infinite variety of rules for the operation of a market and the market for some products requires a different set of rules than the market for other products. The first understanding or notion of an economy that we should begin with is the banishment of the idea that there exists anywhere in the world an entity that could be called a free market. Markets are not free, they are invented. And the people who invent them write the rules. Often the ones who have written these rules write them to benefit themselves. This is human nature and is at the core of understanding market economics. We are all motivated by self-interest, even those who have made the rules for the operation of certain markets.

Again, let’s begin with a simple example, the household. What does the household need from an economy? Lets save that for another post.

Luddite? More Like Sellout

2009-02-27T16:03:00.003-06:00

I have this account, now, on Facebook. You might think that’s funny for a confessed luddite. But, its really not that much different than having a blog, accept that Facebook is a bit more interactive (especially when compared to this blog). Although, I admit, I am still faced with the same dilemma with the Facebook account as I was with starting this blog (read the archives). Why? Jesus, I mean, it all seems so goddamn lonely (Don’t cha think?). I imagine all these people out there, sitting before a big screen downloading photographs and trying to create a persona that presents an image to others of who they are. They don’t do this by making connections or even having conversations, it is all about whom they know, or even how many people they know and also how good they can look on a screen (I say “they” and, of course, I mean “I” and “me” amongst “them”).

I feel like an old curmudgeon whenever I start having these thoughts about our modern ways of communication, but it all seems so terribly odd. First of all, I am not the most social person to begin with. I mean, I have some close friends (my cronies) and we have a deep connections to each other that is based on a deep, dare I say, love for one another. I also have a family consisting of my wife and son and a larger family of brothers, sister, mother, father, nieces, nephews, cousins, uncles and aunts (not to forget one remaining grandparent). All these relationships are based upon love and sustained through conversations and face to face meetings. Some of these relationships have some tensions and aren’t always on the best terms, but like most families and friendships you learn to either talk through or around these problems. But, social networking is not my strong point. I am not a good conversationalist at work or in social settings like bars or parties. I have very few close female friends (we can save that conversation for another day). I don’t like to talk about the weather or last nights game with people I don’t feel a connection with – what is the point, I wonder. Sometimes, after much work and exposure, I can find and then develop a relationship with someone who I am in frequent contact with and we will slowly form a friendship that could be considered lasting. The older I get, the harder it has to form these lasting relationships.

Electronic relationships are easier to form, but they are rarely lasting. I happen to have always had a gift for expressing myself on paper or on a screen. I have always found putting words together on paper or on the screen is fun. It’s something I think I am good at and also something that is necessary for my current daytime employment. So, I have developed many relationships over the internet with all types of individuals – male and female – participating in games or on blogs and through email. However, I could not call any of these relationships friendships and neither can I say that any of them have been lasting. Although, they have all been interesting and the best ones were formed within a community that was constantly in flux and changing. These communities were always interesting to watch form and to participate in, but all of these communities ended up either disintegrating or, at least, left to themselves after I became bored with them.

Facebook is different, because many of the “friends” are old and current acquaintances that I once had or am currently nurturing with face to face contact. There are also “friends” (a currently fast growing number) who are listed on my wall who I have only minimal recollection of – from some long distant past, like high school, many metamorphoses ago.

I have also tried to be “friends” with someone I was once close to in the past and striking up a conversation is often difficult and awkward. I have yet, to master the social skills of nurturing these “friendships” on Facebook and am really left with exasperation over whether it is even worth it in many cases. What do you say when someone confirms you as a “friend” or asks to be your “friend?” Do you write on their wall or do you send them a note in their inbox? I have tried both and, I’d like to believe it is not just me, more often then not, this reaching out to someone is met with silence and I am wondering why we both elected to be “friends” in the first place. The successful conversations I have struck up with “friends” on the wall or in the inbox are usually short-lived or abruptly ended because there is no cordial way to end a conversation in email with friends. It is all too business like and the answer to when the conversation is over in an email exchange is something that has and will always elude me, I am afraid.

But, there is still something fascinating about Facebook and I wonder why so many people seem to have placed so much importance upon it. I mean, for Christ’s sake, why? The short answer is that we are all voyeurs and we love to get a glimpse of others’ lives and Facebook not only allows us to do this, but it also allows us to create our own reality TV show on Facebook for others to view us in an image we create for ourselves. We start by finding flattering photos of ourselves and our families. Then we go out and acquire a list of friends. Having a large and eclectic list of friends is an immediate means for showing we are fun and happy with a large contingent of friends at our disposal whenever we need them or come calling. It is all an illusion, of course, and too similar to everything else we have seen on TV or the monitors in front of us.

I am also afraid there is a longer and more complex answer having to do with the loneliness that results from this increasingly electronic world. We witness on TV and Movies what “friends” are and then we go on Facebook and try and recreate what we’ve previously witnessed on the screen, but human relationships are more complex than that and require much more time and effort that can ever be given on a screen “communicating.” Friendships need love and touch and especially conversation with both sides listening. We all know this but yet I think many of us think that we can get this on Facebook. We can’t.

Facebook is not bad and there is a potential for great utility. There truly our many wonderful people from my past who I have forgotten about who I’ve recently reacquainted with on Facebook. I’ve gone out and met a couple of them for beers and really hope that I can keep alive these few reformed friendships by nurturing them with more outings in the future. But, there is still a great loneliness permeating from Facebook that I can not shake. It’s a loneliness at least partly fueled by my inability to get anything lasting out of so many of my so called “friend” listed on my wall. Who are they? I wonder of the majority of them and what do they do? It is also a loneliness that I see whenever I meet real peoples faces as I make my way through my day. A loneliness that I am sure many have tried to cover up with facebook pages they have created for themselves.

Right now I have a list of 47 “friends” on my facebook account and it is a list that is growing. But, my friends know who they are and I see them frequently and we talk. I have never had more than a dozen friends at a time that I would consider close outside of my family. When I die, there will less people at my funeral than listed on my facebook page and that is the way I want it to be, no offense meant to anyone who I may somehow have reached through electronic media.

Notes To My Son

2009-02-27T15:59:00.003-06:00

Know that you were, are and always will be loved. You do not ever have to go searching for it. Be brave and courageous in your pursuit to find meaning in your life and love will find you.

My First Guitar

2009-02-27T15:54:00.002-06:00

I was born in Little Falls, Minnesota and moved to a suburb outside of Minneapolis when I was two years old. While riding the bus to school in kindergarten, the school children often broke into song.

Marijuana, Marijuana
LSD, LSD
Mommy makes it
Daddy takes it
Why can’t we?
Why can’t we?

It was 1970, and drugs were not yet vilified by parents – by the parents of our parents? Perhaps, but I grew up during a permissive era in the white American suburbs. We wouldn’t hear about the dangers of drug use until middle school and, by then, we had already formed a fairly high opinion of them. There were teachers smoking in our classrooms in elementary school and our middle schools had a “back 40” reserved for students to smoke cigarettes, too. Before school, children gathered outside of the middle school smoking cigarettes and passing around joints received from older siblings. My first drawings in elementary schools were of hippies smoking joints and holding boxes labeled “LSD.” They were standing before banners saying make love not war and peace symbols were pasted in the background next to the sun. I was not peculiar, but was merely drawing what everyone else in class was drawing.

My parents were not hippies. Before kindergarten, my mom stayed at home. Her stack of albums included artists such as: “Peter, Paul and Mary,” “Simon and Garfunkel,” “John Denver,” “Glenn Campbell,” and “The Carpenters.” She would clean the house as these albums spun on the living room turntable. I learned to sing in perfect key to songs like “Puff the Magic Dragon,” “Feelin’ Groovy,” “Cecilia,” “Sunshine on my Shoulders,” “Rocky Mountain High,” “Like a Rhinestone Cowboy,” and “Sing a song,” just like they were nursery rhymes from Mother Goose. In grade school, I was always picked to sing the lead parts in our chorus performances.

I asked my mother and father for a guitar at a very young age, so I could learn to be like John Denver when I grew up. They did not buy me one right away. It may have been the money or perhaps they thought it was a stage I might grow out of. I remember sitting in the backseat of my fathers Pontiac when I was a young boy. My father was driving and my mother was in the passenger seat. I had recently learned from my music teacher in school that there were only 12 notes on a staff. I pleaded with my parents from the back seat that time was wasting and, if I did not get a guitar soon all the songs would be written before I learned how to play guitar and no more would be left. There were only 12 notes after all and almost every combination had to be used up by then. They chuckled from the front seat, but a guitar did not arrive.

When I was 8 years old, I opened a Christmas present and discovered a ukulele. My parents must have immediately sensed my disappointment. They began telling me that a guitar was too big for my hands and I had to learn how to play a Ukulele first. I could get a guitar after I learned how to play the ukulele. I held it in my hands and ran my fingers along the nylon strings. I sang “My dog has fleas” and turned the tuning pegs till they matched my voice. I went to my room and sat on my bed holding it and plucking at the strings. Then, I got up, opened my closet door, put the ukulele on the back shelf, and closed the door shut tightly.

A few months later, I saw Pete Townsend smashing a guitar on the television. It might have been on the news or perhaps it was a late night show. Or maybe, I just saw a picture of him in a magazine. I opened the closet door, went inside, grabbed the Ukulele and shut the door from the inside. Then, I raised the Ukulele high above my head and brought it crashing down to the floor, shattering the ukulele, sending pieces flying as a loud pinging noise went echoing throughout the house. My mother came running into my room and found me in the closet holding the ukulele in my hands as tears streamed down my face. She grabbed me by my hand and led me to my bed. My pants came down and she wore a wooden spoon out until the welts appeared upon my buttocks. My parents never bought me another instrument and I stopped singing in school and at home. Though my musical training was cut short at this early age, I was being groomed as a rock star from that day forward. I would not buy my first guitar for 10 more years, and punk rock was still a ways off in the future. I got a later start on guitar and, lucky for me, for the purposes of puck rock, that was a good thing. I also learned through my studies in mathematics about powers of 12 and through music listening about time signatures, choruses, verses, lyrics, harmonies, and bridges. In short, I came to realize that availabilities of notes may be limited but the possibilities for songs were infinite, while my oppositional nature and rebellious streak was slowly emerging as I entered my teenage years.

I have found my way back!

2009-02-27T15:47:00.004-06:00

I apologize for being away for a year. I took a new job. I am still a bureaucrat, but I no longer work for a municipality. I can no longer post while I am working (internet policy) so I bring you my thoughts via a county Library terminal on the weekend. I am still a luddite after all.

First, let me send a shout out to Richard, one of the rare visitors (can I call him a fan?) to this dilapidated blog who has been popping in periodically to see if I have got it up and running again. Let’s hope he has not completely given up on me and finds his way back.

I really don’t have much to report. I am writing more as a result of the winter duldrums than anything. Actually, this blog should probably be renamed as “The Nightshift,” since most of my posts will be late night creations when I am unable to sleep. You see, I actually think I am a fairly creative individual. Really, I believe we all are creative, but some of us don't find enough time to exercise our talents. As we get older, the we become lazier and lazier often until we eventually find ourselves sitting in front of a monitor or TV laughing at those who are much less talented than our own selves or so we deceive ourselves.

But, I hope to get some thoughts down for the rare visitor and also for my own inspiration to stoke the creative juices. Let’s hope I am able to make a more sustained run of blogposts this time.

I won’t be making daily observations like before from my workspace, but rather posts will come in bunches. Feel free to read them over a span of days rather than take them all in in one sitting. I will have continue with thoughts on my life, the economy, politics and everything else under the sun, including occasional excerpts from stories and more ambitious projects I am currently working on.

Glad to be back, or should I begin this as I once did when I first began “The Dayshift.”

WELCOME BACK!!

To myself, since I will be the only visitor for some time and some more time to come.

My Guitar Gently Screams

2008-01-02T11:27:00.000-06:00

I used to be in a band. It was one of the most memorable periods of my life. I have a book in my mind titled "The Greatest Band Never Heard." I lived 3 three years of my life in Fargo, North Dakota from 1988 to 1991 and crammed more memories and stories into those three short years than the following decade and a half. There were many girlfriends, wild sex, drugs, band practices, band fights, drinking, writing, and working odd jobs for little pay. It was a glorious time of youth and I think anyone who witnessed a show (and there weren't many who did) observed three young men with chips on their shoulders ready to take on the whole world. We took shit from no one. When they pulled the plug on us (and bar owners always pulled th plug on us in Fargo, when they forgot who we were) we stayed on stage staring out across the bar. "You gonna let us play or what?"... "Jesus fucking Christ, What's the matter with this town?"

"Turn it down and you can play," Kirby, the bar owner, would shout from the back.

The bass player and I would walk back to our amps and crank em all the way up. The electricity would turn back on and feedback would immediately wail from the amps and we'd launch back into the song at an even greater decibels until the electricity would be cut back off again and we'd launch into another profanity filled tirade. None of this won us any respect at the time. We'd carry out our amps, guitars, drums and equipment amidst threats from Kirby that we'd never play there again. Luckily he had a short memory. But, years later we'd hear from people who were there, or even weirder still, underage kids who used to sit outside the bar and listen through the doors, then watch us as we loaded up our equipment, cursing and drinking beer as our breaths emitted frost in the cold night air. They later went on to form bands of their own that eventually created a scene in Fargo that the bar owners tapped into.

Years later, I have a job. I am awaiting a promotion while waiting word from another agency on a job offer. My fellow band member from those many years ago has a job in the computer world making three figures while our drummer still toils away in NYC - reliving our dream/nightmare. We grow up and dreams die. Eventually we take shit quite readily and get laid a whole lot less. Not sure why, but it just happens. we get old and then we become embarrassing - like Shaq these days in Miami.

My friend in the computer business has gotten the bug again and an opportunity to play with another aging musician to go out on the road again. He wants something more in life that we can't get at our mundane jobs. He wants to recapture some of that feeling of rock stardom and ass-kicking take no shit from anybody. I went to their first show a couple of weeks ago. I knew they would be good, because their good musicians. But, there was a part of me that was nervous it would be a little embarrassing, like watching Mick at the Superbowl half-time show a coupel of years ago swing his 60 something year old hips like a 16 year old girl. But, they surprised me. They rocked. They kicked ass. They said Fuck You to the world much better than most 19 year old adolescents can say it, because they could say it with a whole lot more history and mean it. That was Punk rock. I almost quit my job the following morning when my boos said good morning to me. But, I soon fell back into my routine.

We age. We get safe. We grow bored and we cease following youthful dreams. Hey, my friend and his band know that it is inevitable - that eventually they will embarrass themselves. There is just nothing redeeming about saying "fuck you" right up until you step in your grave. Eventually you got to make peace. But, that doesn't mean you have to take any shit. Somewhere there has to be a middle ground. Its out there somewhere near some dreams.

Maybe I should dust off my old guitar...

The Future of Baseball on the Eve of 2008

2007-12-31T12:05:00.000-06:00

Its the last eve of 2007 and I have baseball on my mind. I'm a lifelong sports fan raised on Fran Tarkington, Alan Page, Tony Oliva, Rod Carew and Harmon Killebrew. Everyone knows there is something magical about the baseball field, but the latest Steroids scandal has me wondering. There are no shortage of writers who have reminded us of the mystical qualities of the game of Baseball. But, perhaps all this magic and spiritual observance of America's pastime is only a cliche. Maybe, some of these baseball blogs written by female sports fans are not testaments to the game but rather testaments to their fathers - who never really cared all that much for the game anyway, just one more remembrance that added unknown mystique to the game.

I mean, what can be mystical about watching baseball inside. As I young adult, I observed games in the HHH dome where I personally witnessed magical events such as a no-hitter, 3 players reach 3000 hits, a couple of Worlds Series championships and Kirby Puckett's last game (where the sound of bat meets baseball echoing through the stadium was replaced by the smack of the ball hitting Kirby's face). So, what is so magical about baseball that Carlos Silva commands a four-year $48 million contract?

I'll tell you what I find magical about watching baseball. Its not sharing my passion with 30,000 other people crammed into the Metrodome. I abhor crowds and I detest the fact that Baseball is so profitable that Carlos Silva (mind you, he's a nice enough man) not only has a job among the sports most elite players, but he also is signed to a ridiculously large contract that will probably appear small in a year or twos time from now. I like watching baseball on a weekday afternoon in a near empty stadium where you can hear Dennis Martinez's slider hit and break Kirby Puckett's cheekbone from the left field bleachers and then the murmur of a few season ticket holders behind homeplate as Tom Kelly's footsteps slap across the infield. What makes baseball magical is not something you can share with thousands of people and it isn't something that makes the select few so rich that they become celebrities far removed from their fans.

Carl Eller read children's stories to our elementary school and it wasn't a charitable event. I am sure our school forked out a much appreciated hundred dollars or so. I thought Carl Eller wasn't that much different than my dad or one of my grade school friend's dad. These guys were mythical, but no more so than our fathers. Now, sports heroes are celebrities and baseball titans are mere cheaters making millions. They are as far removed from their fan base as the billionaire beneficiaries of permanent tax-cuts are from your average working American. But that doesn't stop us from paying tribute to the magic of baseball anymore than it stops middle-aged white guys from voting republican.

So, thats why I still read the sports page and comb box scores everyday, whether its baseball or basketball. Its out of institutional habit more than a spiritual necessity. Bad habits are hard to break and I don't suppose my likelihood of breaking it is any greater than a lifetime smoker on the verge of lung cancer will quit smoking tomorrow. After a while, when our dreams long ago died, we come to terms with the fact that we all got to die someday, just like we realize that the American dream is no more mythical than America's pastime. We aren't willing to embrace the fact, so we just ride it into the sunset.

Eelpout guts and Iraqi brains.

2007-12-12T09:06:00.000-06:00

The Walleye is a revered fish in Minnesota and is also known to be finicky, especially in the winter. When watching the bobber go down below the ice, it often is taken slowly. If you set the hook too early the walleye will drop the minnow and you will have to take up all the line and check your bait, before dropping it down 20 feet or more to begin again.

Sometimes the bobber goes down fast when the walleye is hungry and you need to set the hook immediately as the walleye is running away with its dinner. If she is a "good one" it will feel like you are setting the hook into solid ground and there will be little give before the line starts to pull in short jerks away from you.

But, when the walleye isn't really feeding you have to let the bobber go for a while. Sometimes it will pop back up, but you can tell the walleye is still down there playing with its dinner by the movement of your bobber. Slowly it sinks and you need to give it some line. It will eventually stop taking line and this is where you have to be patient. The walleye still might be just playing with the minnow and getting ready to spit it out at the slightest provocation. Sometimes you have to wait for a minute or more. Then, the line will start to get taken again a little more forcefully. Hold the line tight till you feel the fish and then pull hard to set the hook. Again, if its a "good one" it will feel like you are setting the hook into solid rock.

There is only one problem with this approach. The dreaded eelpout. An eelpout is an introduced fish to Minnesota from Europe, I believe. I was told they were rough fish, like carp, as a kid and should be treated as such. Eelpout take the bait just like a walleye, but they usually are not playing around. While you are waiting they are swallowing the minnow and hook deep into their bellies. They also are taking the minnow and swimming in circles and, more often than not, tangling up the line in other nearby holes. One of the first clues that you may have an eelpout at the end of the line is that the other fishermen or women in your party will be kneeling before holes near you anticipating their own walleye as their bobbers disappear below the ice in succession one after the other. When setting the hook into an eelpout it will also feel like you have set it into solid rock. But then, there will be long steady pulls of the line against you instead of the short quick rapid burst from the tail flicks of the walleye. When other people ask you if you got a "good one?" the response of "nope, pout!" will immediately clear everyone away so they don't get drawn into the inevitable lengthy untangling of line, cutting of hooks and reattaching a new rig and minnow.

The eelpout is slimy like an eel and it is difficult to handle. Once it comes up through the hole it will immediately curl up into itself like a snake. Its mouth is clamped shut and it is necessary to step on its back or stomach to force it open. If you can't see the hook you will often just need to cut the line. No one keeps eelpout to eat, though there have always been rumors that they are good eating and healthy for you. Instead, they are tossed onto the ice in disgust and left to die on the frozen tundra. On a Minnesota lake, like Mille Lacs, in the winter near ice fishing houses the lake is often littered with eelpout carcasses.

As a boy, after an eel pout was caught by myself, my dad or other members of our fishing party, I would often put on my Sorrell boots and march out into the cold after them and proceed to stomp on the backs of the eelpout until all of the organs and entrails were forced out of its mouth. This desecration of the eelpout was made possible because this fish was hated and its life was considered worthless and a stain upon the revered walleye waters of Minnesota. I was a normal kid and the stomping I did was not done because I had a vicious streak inside me extending towards other animals and humans. It was done out of boredom and because it was fun and also because the life of an eelpout was considered worthless.

It is the way humans are. If we are taught that a life is worthless we will be conditioned to destroy it and kill it out of boredom and for entertainment. Thats what marines are trained to do with Iraqis. Kill. Its what we train our youth to do with video games. It is what we see in Colorado and Oklahoma. It is why we don't flinch at the idea of specious extinction due to climate change - not even our own. In our society we revere little life. Certainly the military portion of our society reveres none. What returns from Iraq and Afghanistan will be with us till the end and the end is coming nearer simply because we can no longer love. Marines congratulate each other because soldiers today are much more likely to fire their weapons in battle than soldiers of yesterday - like WWII. They are trained to kill and they do it efficiently without flinching. They think that is progress. Iraqi brains and blood on the desert streets in Baghdad or other Iraqi towns is no different than eelpout guts lying frozen on the ice covering Minnesota lakes. That is until years later, when we become haunted by our conditioning as we discover the last remnants of love and humanity residing inside each of us below the ever-present conditioning to hate we get from our society.

I don't see the blood lust of the modern marines as progress. I see it as a tragedy that, if it is not corrected, will eventually lead to the end of us all. As Scott Ritter once said. "Weapons of mass destruction? A platoon of marines with unlimited ammo - that is a weapon of mass destruction." or a kid with big boots in the case of an eelpout.

They ought to be in Jail

2007-12-11T11:18:00.000-06:00

I suppose some might say I'm a liberal. However, I've had plenty of liberals accuse me of being a wingnut. I'd say I'm liberal. But, I also think I have a streak of conservative in me. I believe in community. I support home-schooling and community supported schools and I am critical of Public schools. I think Roe vs. Wade is flawed in its argumentation, but I support abortion in 99.93% of the cases. Some liberals think I want to control a woman's body because of the 0.07%.

I'm a liberal who would have prosecuted Bill Clinton for War crimes and thinks his wife Hilary is not a good candidate for President. In fact, I'd rather see Mike Huckabee and I'm not a right wing Christain - although I believe in many of the teachings of Jesus Christ such as Blessed are the Peacemaker for they shal inherit the Earth. My preferred candidate is Dennis Kucinich, but I stopped preferring candidates after the last presidential campaign. I think Dick Cheney really did order the murder of Senator Paul Wellstone and I have zero evidence. I just think it fits his profile.

What I'm trying to say without sounding partisan and someone who is on a mission to reestablish a Democratic presidency further reducing the influence of the GOP in Washington is that current and past members of the present administration should be going to jail - forever. Throw away the key. How much more of this will we take. We can just forget about the Iraq war and torture and all that inexcusable bullshit. Lets just talk about the Kyoto protocol and the Nuclear non-proliferation agreement. I realize we are all guilty of contributing to the destruction of the natural world through our participation in this consumer culture in America, but this is what we have leaders for. And, as slow as politics are, there has been progress towards - at least - coming to terms with the impacts of CO2 and climate change. But, is there any excuse for the arrogance of withdrawing from all discussion with the other countries in the world. Likewise, the rollback of the goals towards a future without the proliferation of Nuclear weapons. There was means for discussion with the countries in the world and this administration has made the world a more dangerous place by its policy of preemptive strikes and the consideration of limited nuclear strikes against wayward countries.

We should be a participant in discussions of the major issues facing our planet in the future. It does not get anymore important the nuclear weapons and climate change. For this alone I would put them all in jail, without even considering the lack of a true discussion on Palestine, torture, domestic spying, the Iraq War, the budget deficit, permanent tax cuts, corruption, Blackwater, privatization, etc. They are not mere poor decision makers. They are criminals and we need to treat them as such.

Second interview.

2007-12-10T13:49:00.000-06:00

I got as call back from a first interview for another position within another large bureaucracy. Its a job working for an institution providing expert testimony on behalf of the Public's interest concerning rates charged before the Public Utilities Commission.

My current job is rather mindless, but it requires a sense of order I have managed to sustain for two years. I am capable as an accountant/auditor keeping records and such, but my tendency is still towards the creative and chaotic - at least in comparison to what you will normally find inside bureaucratic institutions. A Public Rates Analyst is not exactly a position filled by artists and poets, but it does require the application of theory and is much more stimulating than a position as a record-keeper that I currently am employed as.

I imagine my days will be much busier, but also more interesting. Essentially, I will be employed as an economist - which is what I trained as in graduate school. However, an economist that only studies one specific industry (telecommunications) recognizing trends and setting up the terms for just and fair markets. In my second interview I have to give a presentation on some subject that has yet to be revealed to me. I go in on a week from today.

I look forward to it as a break form my current schedule and routine consisting of mind-numbing monotony. However, age has tempered my penchant for assuming that a new job will finally bring me the sense of satisfaction I am looking for. A job is a job and my ultimate satisfaction can only be found away from employment. For now, however ( and likely till I am old and decrepit) employment is necessary and I am coming on three years in the same job. With some luck and a good performance, change may soon come.

Seen Your Video

2007-11-30T09:33:00.000-06:00

If you know the song, then you have some idea of what makes this whole blog thing so difficult to be motivated about.

The refrain keeps going through my head

We don't want to know
We don't want to know
We don't want to know

The question does not even need to be asked and perhaps it doesn't even matter. Does Paul Westerberg have a blog? Of course not, and it doesn't really matter either. See, blogs are like videos when every band wanted to be on MTV. Now everyone wants a myspace page or a weblog. But, really, its true for 99 % of them

We don't want to know.

Banned and a good book

2007-11-13T14:02:00.000-06:00

I haven't posted for a while. I suppose I could say I've been busy at work, and it is true. I've also been spending time on my resume as I look at other opportunities available out there in the world of bureaucracies.

Peaches was recently banned from Talkleft for his juvenile behavior of rating every comment of his nemesis a 1 (on a scale of 1 to 5) for the previous week. He sort of got sick of the dominant personalities on the blog. Internet communities are interesting and sometimes fascinating to watch develop. For Recluses and solitary personalities as myself, one can get drawn into them. Its fun when the discussions are irrelevant and meaningless. For instances, the first community I was involved in was part of free online game called Realmwars. I found a hosting site called Planetbang and over time became part of the community. I was in my late thirties and playing games and bullshitting with 12 to 21 year olds like they were my best friends. We actually stated caring about each other. There was Thaed, JPac, Borus, Adam, Bit, Bert, Redman, Deathchant, Evil, and a host of others. It was fun for awhile and a big waste of time. But, I was unemployed at the time and I actually came to depend on this community for a little self-esteem.

But, at TalkLeft, where the discussions get serious and you mostly conversed with men in their 40s and 50s, it is hard not to feel a kind of resentment towards yourself and others for actually thinking you are accomplishing something through discussing political and current events. The friendships formed were not like the ones formed amongst awkward teenagers with underdeveloped social skills. These are angry men instead acting out angst over their underdeveloped social skills as the teenagers they once were. I couldn't help but be repulsed by the majority of people who contributed at the blog and I took it out on one participant in particular - Edger.

But, now Peaches is gone on the internet. I am now myself rather than a pseudonym. So, I was looking to be banned at TL as Peaches so Peaches could be put to rest. It only took a week of rating Edger a 1.

But, on to more enlightening comment. I just finished one of the better books I have read in a long time. Its called The Last River Rat. I'v ealways been a fan of Thoreau, Aldo Leopold and Sigurd Olson as well as many other nature writers. But, Keeny Salway is my new hero. You have to read this book. It is fabulous.

Humor for a small audience

2007-10-19T08:04:00.000-05:00

I don't imagine many people under 30 years old would find the new blog of Dick Cavett at the New York Times page very funny, but to those of us older than 40 he is a refreshing new addition to the blogging era.

When I was young there was no internet and computers were something that had to do with punch cards and "Stop" and "Go To" commands. There was still a debate in Math classes about whether students could use calculators in class that had the limited capability of doing addition, subtraction, multiplication and division. Our minds, outside of school were still being polluted by television but we only had 4 or 5 channels to choose from. This did not stop us from vegetating in front of the TV sets for hours at a time however.

Of course, evenings consisted of scheduling around such sitcoms and Welcome Back Cotter, Happy Days, and The Dukes of Hazard. Before School, we'd watch Captain Kangaroo and Romper Room and after school we'd plop ourselves in front of the television for a couple of hours to watch reruns of Gilligan's Island, Underdog, The Dick Van Dyke Show and Scooby Doo. Sometimes we would stay up late with our Dad's and watch Johnny Carson on the Tonight Show and late at night Tomorrow with Tom Snyder. Often, while learning the artful skills of flipping that would soon serve us so well once cable TV arrived, we would stumble upon The Dick Cavett Show.

If memory serves me correctly, he was on PBS. PBS is what brought us Monty Python and The Benny Hill Show. As teenagers, much of his intellectual and sophisticated humor must have went over our heads, but there was something there that held our attention and we would sit and smile as we watched him question his guests in his most unique way. As we aged we started laughing harder at his quirks and were let in on his humor. His humor required that we know current events and the political discussions of the day.

I have not heard from Dick Cavett for many years. A search on Google shows he has continued to have shows up to the present on one network or another. But, the multitude of channels on the dish network and Cable have turned many of us away from the information overload accosting us from our television sets, so he has been lost to us and the world for a couple decades or more. What a refreshing and wondrous relief to discover his humor again while reading the New York Times online.

Memory of a Fishing Trip

2007-10-10T11:01:00.000-05:00

It was spring and the sun was coming up earlier and earlier. Daylight Savings time came later in the year back then and it seemed as it was light by the time I made my first delivery. I usually awoke about 4:30 am and left to the central garage with my two older brothers to stuff ads into the papers before beginning my route. We opened the garage door, grabbed our Schwinn Stingrays, affixed the delivery bag to our handlebars and drove in a line two blocks to the High Schooler's (Gerard) garage who was in charge of our area.

I did Saratoga Lane, and Trenton Avenue. My older brothers did the four streets in the line – Union, Vermont, Washington and Xerxes. We would ride up the driveway of each house, run the paper to the front or side door, then run back to our bikes and ride it to the next delivery. If we were quick we could be back by 5:30 am and during the spring it was already light out. On this particular morning, we had a quick bite to eat and then got ready to drive our bikes to a little pond, about 5 miles away, where we had been killing the bullheads for the past few weeks.

I went to sleep every night seeing bobbers in my head disappearing below the surface. We came home with stringers of 1 to 2 lb bullheads. We had a 2 x 6 board set up with a large nail poking through. We would slam the bullheads down, one at a time, onto the board so the nail stuck through the head. Then we’d make an incision behind the head and skin the bullheads with a plier. Then we would walk into the kitchen, while our parents were still asleep in the bed (perhaps my father was recently awakened and sitting at the kitchen table reading one of our extra papers), mix a bowl of flour, salt and pepper and in another bowl crack a few eggs. The frying pan with vegetable was heating up and each skinned bullhead would get dipped in egg, flour mixture, and then fried several minutes on all sides till the bullhead meat was white and flaky.

These delicious breakfasts were almost as good as catching the bullheads, despite having to remove the meat from a large skeletal framework. I was strapping my rod and real to my Stingray. The rod ran from the back frame for my banana seat and through my hotrod handlebars at the front of my bike. We looked like three knights on horses with our Jousts protruding outward as we road down a back country road to the small pond near a park reserve.

I fell behind as I became distracted by a muskrat type animal on the side of the road, as I watched him scurrying through the grass. I looked up and noticed my brothers a quarter mile or more ahead of me. I rose to a standing position and began to pump my legs to catch up. No sooner than reaching a standing position, my rod somehow came loose in back falling to hit the pavement. As it bounced up, the front came loose from between the handlebars and the tip somehow became tangled in my front spokes. With a loud snap my fishing rod was sliced in two and the morning fishing trip was over.

I stopped my bike and looked at the disaster before I began to sob uncontrollably. My brothers were disappearing out of sight as I turned my bike back around and walked it home as I held my fishing rod in my hands. I was nine years old.

Shultz, Meloncholy and the Weather

2007-10-08T09:15:00.000-05:00

I left the Twins cities at about 4 pm last Friday afternoon heading up to Jay Cooke State Park to meet a contingent of fools from Duluth to hike into one of the four (Silver Creek) remote backpack sites in the park along the St. Louis river. I was wearing a T-shirt when I left the muggy Twin Cities on the early October afternoon. When I stepped out of the car at the highway 210 exit to Jay Cooke to grab a burger with my co-rider Big Bill B., it was a balmy and chilly evening requiring a quick change into long underwear and several layers of clothing I wore through the remainder of the weekend camping trip with my cronies. I was still bundled up when I stepped out of my car on Sunday afternoon at my suburban sanctuary and was hit with a wave of heat and humidity from an unseasonably warm October afternoon.

On my ride into work this morning the Minnesota Public Radio weatherperson was stating that there is no normal, just variations of extremes. hmmm.

I was reading the paper this morning and stumbled across an article on the reaction of Charles Shultz's family to his latest biography portraying the Peanuts creator as a miserable and cantankerous man prone to fits of depression. The fact that Charles Shultz was prone to melancholy is not exactly a new insight into the famous cartoonist. He said as much on the 60 minutes interview I saw several years ago. Shultz used humor to assuage his melancholy and funny may make us laugh, but it is rarely happy. We laugh at absurdities and to overcome the hardships and suffering of life.

There is no normal, just variations of extremes. Look at the Colorado Rockies. They are far from the best team in baseball this year, but they are currently baseball's hottest team as they ride a streak of 17 wins out of the past 18 games. Despite the American league being the dominant league of the two, if the Rockies sweep the Diamondbacks the world series might be very competitive and exciting whether they play the favored Indians, Yankees or Red Socks. Hitters are usually either in a slump or on a tear and rarely are hitting their average over the season. Basketball players get hot or can't find their shot. Life isn't average or normal, it fluctuates between extremes.

When study statistics, the interesting pieces of data are always the anomalies. What lies within the Bell curve is never interesting. Our education system is all about getting more people to fall under that bell curve whether describing cognitive abilities, behavior, social interactions, or motor skills. Development must also fall into these trajectories based on statistical analysis and God forbid if someone finds themselves outside the range of their age group in any of the above categories. Early intervention is the catch phrase for prodding children back into the range of normal and keeping them from being in the extremes, at least on the lower end of the bell curve.

At the high range lies the gifted, and these become the prodigies who need their gifts nurtured, but often at the expense of the developments of their whole being. But, thats another story. My point here is the lower regions, because I am told my son is below the developmental average in fine motor skills and social interactions (recognition of boundaries, oppositional behavior, etc) for his age group. Obviously, I strive to be a good parent and I want what is best for my son. But, do we really know the optimum way for brains and humans to develop, and if we did, why would we assume that it would resemble anything close to normal or average. Ludwig Wittgenstein did not speak a word until he was four years old, according to his biographer Ray Monk. He would have been found to be developmentally delayed in cognitive functions by today's child psychologist, but without any outside intervention, he arguably developed into one of the greatest intellects western society has ever produced.

It all just makes me wonder what the hell is normal?

A New Kind of Power

2007-10-04T12:02:00.000-05:00

There is a comfort in capitalism and knowing the motives of its participants. Adam Smith is famous for his metaphor of the invisible hand. He argued that if we all acted in our own best interests, then society's greater interests would be served as well. In capitalism, self-interests are described by the profit motive as each of us seeks to achieve the greatest profit. We have learned since the days of Adam Smith that although the economy works this way, in real life humans are motivated by a wide variety of factors of which self-interests and the profit motive play a small part.

In politics we can see the economic incentives playing out as corporate interests hedge their bets between parties and candidates, so they can receive the greatest benefit. Even if they know a candidate does not fully support the issues that benefit the donor's interests the most, they may still contribute to the candidates campaign so they may benefit from the candidates success in an election. In a strange way, this incentive gives us comfort knowing that corporations can still support candidates with interests that favor the majority and not the market, because they realize the people who vote are not in full support of their profit-driven agenda. Thus, we see the corporations and large donors filling the campaign vaults of the democratic candidates for the 2008 election in full knowledge that after eight years of the Bush administration, there is little chance the American people will choose another term for a Republican administration.

Although far from perfect, in some ways it is better than the alternative. Many people like to point out that economics and capitalism fail to portray the more beneficial aspects of human behavior. Any human that was only motivated by their own self-interest and strictly made decisions based on the profit motive would be institutionalized as a sociopath. Corporations, which legally are treated as individuals, are described as psychologically unstable and a danger to society because of its single-minded devotion to profits over all other motivations. However, human nature also has even a darker side than the profit seeking individual oblivious to the greater interests of humanity. The profit seeking corporation can be seen as standing in the way of power to these darker forces.

During Eric Prince's testimony to Congress he described himself as not interested in finances and anyone who knew him well could testify to this. Aside from the fact that as a man who comes from big money he never had to worry about finances, we can see that this also reveals a man who represents the darker forces of humanity. Eric Prince has never hedged his bets. He is from a wealthy family tied to other families of wealth who only support radical right wing neoconservative and radical Christian objectives. As an observer of American politics, Prince is not satisfied with the slow shift to the right resulting from corporations hedging their bets while prefering candidates that will put money in their pockets at the expense of the peoples. Prince sees a danger of a populace that will feel disenfranchised and will never be fully immersed in the Radical Christian ideology that sees the world in terms of good and evil.

Under Princes views there can be no hedging. We are in a war with the dark forces of the world represented primarily by the Muslim ideology. Previously, it was a war with the communist forces of Satan, but no matter, Satan frequently shapeshifts and can reveal himself under new guises depending on the times. There is no time to hedge your bets under Princes ideology and we must be prepared to meet the darker forces and battle these forces in the name of Good and fundamentalist Christianity. A military that is at the mercy of congress is a military that will never be fully prepared for this battle. I joked about this being the plot of a great science fiction novel, previously. I am not one to make predictions and I am humble enough to know that random events are much more influential to the forces of history than any other conditions. However, this trend towards the privatization of the military that has created a private military capable of overflowing the majority of governments in the world and that continues to grow, has the necessary ingredients for disastrous results.

There is a realization that we cannot keep funding the Iraqi war or even our bloated military forever. There are rivalries between the branches of the military over the funding of new weapons systems as well as the role each branch will play in the future battlefields across the board. We have heard concerns over the growing influence of radical Christians at focal positions in the Air Force and the Army. As these rivalries grew, it became obvious to some that the military needed restructuring. This restructuring has be done by neocons over the past eight years and has left the military power in new private hands with an ideology that is not represented by the majority of Americans.

Some may want to point out the forces on the left that have contributed strictly to liberal and democratic candidates such as Unions or Moveon.org. I concede that these forces used to be a counter force to the forces on the right devoting their financial contributions strictly to right-wing and republican candidates. But, these powers on the right now have there own military that should bring cause for concern to all. Can you imagine if a similar force was funded and led by the left. What ff George Soros started his own security firm and began to get contracts under the next Clinton Administration? What would the right wing be saying and how long would it be before he was tied to terrorism and the war broke out between Blackwater and Soros firm [See, it is a great plot]? A more likely scenario will be a General on the battle field voicing the concern that Blackwater has made American soldiers larger targets for insurgents. This General might also feel slighted by his diminsished pay compared to Blackwater employees. A back alley war between Blackwater and American forces might result through the withholding of intelligence, funding of insurgents, negligence of duty, etc. Then it is only a matter of time before this war spreads home.

Obviously, my imagination is too active and this is likely to play out over a longer period of time for us to notice this drift toward Tyranny in America we are presently in. But, as unsettling as many of the impacts of the Bush administration has been on Democracy in the US, the privatization of military services is the most concerning and should be the red flag to us all that the empire will soon turn its violent hand against the citizens on the mainland as these armies increasingly come rushing to aide in disaster relief and urban unrest that is likely to increase over the coming years. I think I might prefer the profit-motive to these darker forces on the horizon.

Fall, Grief and Despair

2007-10-04T10:38:00.000-05:00

I still have potatoes, broccoli and kale left to harvest in the garden. Soon, I must begin applying compost and mulch to prepare the soil for next spring and plant the garden along with other fall plantings of flowers and herbs.

Fall always arrives in a rush and I, as usual, am unprepared for the wave of hopelessness that overcomes me. The tomatoes, peppers, beans, flowers, and the lush colors of the summer suddenly give way to browns and decay leaving one in a general state of despair. Luckily, this feeling is only temporary and can be assuaged through the hard work of preparing the garden in anticipation of the following spring when the plants will once again begin to sprout and grow to full bloom. There is also the work in the kitchen of preparing and storing the harvest from the summer and fall. It is a time to grow closer to family and community.

I, like many people living in suburban communities, feel a disconnect with my neighbors. I am treated as a sort of oddity by my neighbors. They arrive in amazement during the summer to witness the bounty I have managed to grow, but seem puzzled by my efforts and slightly taken aback in wonderment over my motivations. Am I a survivalist, hippie, malcontent, liberal, conservative? All these questions seem to be forming in the backs of their mind as they make comments on the amount of work and time my efforts must consume.

Fall is a time for reflection and with the wave of hopelessness that accompanies the end of the harvest, one can be overwhelmed with grief. I don’t see a need to run from this grief or feel a need to medicate it. Rather, I let it flow through my veins and contemplate the loss I am experiencing with the fall while being aware of loss and death in the world that surrounds me. Life and death go hand in hand and the experience of fall should prepare us for our own deaths and help us learn to live with our mortality.

As someone who follows and sometimes obsesses over political and global events, fall can amplify the hopelessness of our times. But, it is only by experiencing the despair and working through the misery that accompanies the life cycle that we can retain our sense of hope and put it to use to build a more sustainable world beginning with our own lives. But, we are a society that treats depression and grief as a disease rather than a perfectly natural response to our changing conditions. Rather than experience this grief we medicate and dull it so we can forget about it. But nothing we do can erase the fact that we are all mortal and our death stalks us every moment of our lives.

What many of us do not realize is that medicating and forgetting about our inevitable death may prolong our lives and keep the physical body alive, but it creates a spiritual emptiness. Most of us spend the majority of our waking moments in a trance that might as well be death for the experience it gives us. Our lives are not killing us, our lives are already dead. This is why we must experience grief, taste it and glorify it. That is what fall reminds me, anyway.

The Lump

2007-10-03T14:21:00.000-05:00

Doctor says its nothing.

Carry on.

Krugman, Economies and the Next Civil War

2007-10-03T10:18:00.000-05:00

When I was in graduate school pursuing a PhD in Economics, I was assigned to teach an Introductory Economics course for my assistantship requirements. I assigned my students twice-weekly readings of Paul Krugman's column in the New York Times editorial page. Of course, his column were political and I risked being accused of endorsing a Liberal agenda and swaying young minds, but Krugman was also an economist and his columns often gave a political perspective from an economic point of view. I was careful to focus in on the economic aspects of his columns and left the political portion open to discussion without criticizing or endorsing his opinions.

Upon leaving graduate school, the New York times began offering a paid service called Timeselect and Krugman's column was temporarily beyond my reach. I was ecstatic to learn the Timeselect was being cancelled a week ago and I could access Krugman's column and blog once more at the New York Times online page.

Krugman has a new book coming out with the same title as his blog "The Conscious of a Liberal." In the Introduction to his Blog, Krugman describes the growing inequities of income in the US. There is little doubt that the current disparities in income between the haves and the have-nots in our society - as well as around the globe - is troubling, to say the least. But Krugman appears to endorse a view that the recent trend, beginning with the Reagan administration, is a return to the previous days in America described as the Gilded age when robber barrens controlled the wealth of industry and had vast influence over political discourse in the US. Under this view, the depression era and post-war build-up of Government infrastructure supporting liberal agendas created an aberration in US history where wealth was distributed more equitably among the members of out society. This was the result of investment in public education, liberal legislation supporting unions and working families, and many other government programs and initiatives. Generally, I am in support of this view - but I also think it only tells part of the story leading to the solution of returning to more government run programs.

While income was distributed more evenly in American society during the great achievements of the post war liberal era, there was also a continuing migration from rural areas to urban and suburban areas as many Americans left income poor, yet self-reliant, households in rural America. This left vast rural areas in the control of large agricultural conglomerates with no ties to the people in these previously resilient communities.

These thriving rural communities may have been populated by households that were described as low income, but as my Grandma said of life on the farm, “We didn’t have no money, but we were never hungry.” The economies in these rural areas were kept aloft through the informal economy that could not be described with income. It can be better illuminated in the oownership records with many small farms owned by individuals with little income, still living pleasant and comfortable lives through their interconnected relationships and economic transactions with the community that were not pecuniary in nature. These transactions can be described as bartering, work-sharing, cooperatives, gifts and neighborliness. What makes the inequality in America today much more daunting than the inequality of the past is the reliance upon income over relationships amongst our neighbors.

In effect, although this postwar liberal era can be seen as a panacea through many lenses - the result of large government projects and initiatives - the liberal policies also contributed (and continue to contribute) to the loss of our rural communities and economies to the economic incentives of greater profits through the capture of economic transactions that previously were not part of the formal economy. Today we see the same trends in privatization in security, warfare, disaster relief and education. A closer look at Krugman's analysis might reveal a coup whereby liberal policies built up large government infrastructures through tax payer dollars enticing waves of Americans from rural areas to abandoned their communities and self-reliant lifestyles for the income supported lives of our modern era. Now the government (which is vastly subservient to corporate agendas) has began the process of selling (giving away) this infrastructure to the wealthy few - leaving in place a huge and much more chilling corporate/military infrastructure designed to serve the money interests while leaving citizens without income, property or the means to sustain themselves.

All of this leads to the current situation with the Eric Prince lead Blackwater along with other security firms. Imagine a future where the Generals are competing with CEO's for government funds. We may be witnessing the onset of the second civil war if congress begins the process of reducing these private mercenary companies. Eric Prince and his family have given vast sums of money to Republican campaigns with radical Christian and nonconservative agendas. He has given zero dollars to democrats. He is in control of the worlds largest private military and is being questioned by a democratic congress. It has the makings of a great Science fiction novel at the very least.

DDT and Twiddling

2007-10-02T10:00:00.000-05:00

The age of the fossil fuels brought out a host of new products and pollutants previously unseen before. As chemists manipulated the molecular structures of oil, new products have been introduced to the market with claimed attributes making our lives simpler, and easier according to the sellers of the products. However, usually over time we discover some externality associated with the product causing an environmental hazard leading to disease and/or destruction of the biosphere we depend on for survival.

One of the first products introduced was DDT as a pesticide and herbicide for agricultural products as well for control of Mosquitoes to combat malaria around the world. DDT was used extensively in rural communities in the 1940's and 1950's while my father was a growing up. My father was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease when he was 30 years old in 1970. As a young man he used to work for farmers and applied DDT in the fields without any protection getting covered from head to toe in the DDT dust. He is going to be 67 in December. He is a shell of the man I knew growing up. At 6'4" and 220 lbs, coming off of life on the farm, he was big, strong and skilled in a number of tasks such as carpentry, auto mechanics, fishing, hunting, plumbing, electricity, etc. Even when he was first diagnosed with the disease that would eventually cripple him, his medication slowed and controlled his digression enough that I still remember a man as a child who was infinitely stronger and capable as the adult man I grew up to be. The community my father grew up in is riddled with cancer and he has lost many friends to a variety of diseases. His younger brother died at the young age of 55 from a brain tumor.

My father was no sissy and I am sure he came off of the farms without the slightest fears of pesticides and herbicides such as DDT. I can imagine he moved into the suburbs around Minneapolis as a young man and brought home pesticides from the hardware store in town and applied it to his garden and lawn by the handful. I was born in 1964 and I would not doubt he would come in from outside and take me crying from my mother's hands in his huge DDT dust covered hands, and slowly rock me and comfort me to sleep. DDT was not banned until 1972.

I've been playing with my balls my whole life. The human body is mostly smooth and hard and the testicles encased in the elastic scrotum provide an interesting exploratory landscape for the fingers to investigate under the covers and away from the sight of everyone. I have observed my son sitting naked on the couch while discovering this pleasure himself and from my childhood I remember my father napping on the couch with his large hands tucked neatly into his pants. Obviously, this is an inherited trait or perhaps universal amongst all males. We are socially conditioned to play with our balls in the privacy of our homes away from the prying eyes of our neighbors. If not for this conditioning, I am sure men would be walking around with their hands stuffed neatly into our pants all day long as we twiddled to our heart's content. After 43 years of playing with my balls I mostly do it subconsciously now as I put myself to sleep. My hands pull and play with my scrotum and softly manipulate each testicle, one at a time, not to derive any sort of pleasure, but rather to just comfort myself. One week ago, when I first noticed the lump on my right testicle, I thought I should just ignore it. Immediately, I did think of testicular cancer and Lance Armstrong and all that, but I also thought even if it was cancer I should be able to heal myself with positive thoughts, a good diet and a healthy lifestyle.

I am not worried about universal health care. In many ways I distrust everything about the modern health industry. Everything is presented to us with scientific certainty derived from statistical analysis. I have had enough post-secondary education to understand that nothing is certain about statistics and what is certain one day from one specific study will be announced later as false due to a new study with slightly different parameters producing different results. So, my natural inclination is to push everything modern and scientific aside and try and live naturally and healthy through diet, exercise and as much distance from the modern world as one raised in it can muster in a week. I didn't want to believe I had cancer and I had told myself, that even if I do have it, I would not undergo putting radiation and chemical poisons in my body to counteract the growing cancer.

On Sunday I read of a recent scientific study showing a correlation between breast cancer and DDT exposure. I suddenly began to think of the possibility that no matter how healthy I lived the seeds of cancer may have been sown in my body as an infant. I thought of my son and my desire to see him grow up and my father crying at the realization that he can no longer play with his grandchildren in a meaningful way like he dreamed of as a young and healthy adult. I called my doctor yesterday and made an appointment by phone for tomorrow at 1:00 pm. I stayed up all night rehearsing what I will say to him.

"Doctor Clavine, I play with my balls a lot and recently I notice a lump on my right testicle. I'd like for you to play with them awhile and see what you think - if it is cancer."

Depending on what he thinks, I will take it from there. I suppose I can stand the thought of putting myself to sleep each night while playing with one less testicle if it came to that. I'll have to think about the chemotherapy and I am sure I will be given plenty of statistics to help me reach a decision.

What is it about me?

2007-10-01T09:18:00.000-05:00

Midway through my senior year track season, we had a meet against a couple of teams in our conference. Neither team had any good distance runners. I was scheduled to run the two-mile, a leg of the 4 x 800, and then the mile. It was my standard workload during my senior year and it usually left me with 3 blue ribbons. My coach called ma aside before the race. He told me he wanted to see me go out hard the first mile and then coast through the second mile. My teammates were accustomed to seeing me in the lead during these conference races and most invitationals. They were not aware of the instructions from my coach. When I went through the first mile at 4:31, they all started getting excited. I was still holding my pace as I came around the straight away on my 5th lap. My teammates were in a line forming a gauntlet and began chanting, "Andy!, Andy!, Andy!" I felt a sudden rash of embarrassment and shook my head, hoping my teammates would stop. I came through lap five in 5:37 and could still hear the chants of my teammates as I went around the first turn. I began to slow down on the back stretch and as I came around the far turn I saw my teammates formed in a line and the chanting was still going strong. I slowed to a jog and looked at them and told them to knocked it off. When I went went trough lap six the timers called out, " 7:06, 7:07, 7:08". My teammates dispersed and I began picking up my pace again midway down the backstretch when I could see they no longer formed their gauntlet and the chanting had died down, when the the gun went off as I went into my final lap, I could hear "8:29, 8:30, 8:31." My final lap was fast, but I didn't kick and I finished my race in 9:35 with my final mile slower than 5:00 minutes.

I don't know why, but I've never liked bringing attention to myself. I have always been competitive, but I'm always embarrassed by seeking approval from others. So, when I later went on to play in bands, my least favorite part was trying to sell the bands I was in. I could not stand telling people to pay attention to us, because we were good. I just wanted to play and let people form their own opinions as I had fun playing my guitar and singing my songs.

I think I feel the same about writing. It is not that I am humble or modest. I can actually come across as quite arrogant and I don't tolerate mediocrity very well. But, what I most hate are the self-promoters. I have always been sickened by the salesperson mentality and thats what you see in blogs the most. Especially, as time goes on and more and more people join the information age and chime in on any number of subjects while attracting donations and sponsors to their site. Its this that makes me queasy. Obviously, I am not in the market or doing this to attract visitors to my site. But, whenever anything is done these days it is impossible to judge the worth of how we spend our time without considering costs and potential revenues. Worth for anything that we do with our time is judged almost strictly in monetary terms even when we pursue our hobbies and interests, because "time is money" as they say.

That's why I haven't posted in over a month and explains my previous post. Let's see if this post gathers any momentum.

Blogs are dumb

2007-08-27T13:51:00.001-05:00

I just came to the conclusion.

Verse to a melody in my head, while walking to work

2007-08-15T12:08:00.000-05:00

I want to let go
But I’m scared
Don’t mind slippin’ away
But, to nowhere?

If I lose myself
I’ll lose my mind
Let go of my past
What will I find?

Change…
Change…
Change…

Blogging Journalism

2007-08-03T15:34:00.000-05:00

Journalists find witnesses and tell stories of events that people want to read about. In today's world of bloggers, the journalist and the witness are combined. The result is that there are many witnesses to events, but not many talented storytellers recounting the scenes. But, we get some good video.

As my contribution to blogging journalism, since I live in the Twin Cities and often take I35W to and from work, I just want to say that I drove home on Wednesday evening without incident and came home to watch the events unfold on TV like the rest of the nation. I know no one who was at the scene, nor anyone with any connection to the disaster. Life has gone on without much drama over the past few days and I expect it will continue this way for the foreseeable future.

Speaking of the future, I am leaving to the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness in Northern Minnesota without the accompanying canoe. I am joining my cronies there for a hike along the Pow Wow Trail for a week of camping, fishing and hiking withe canine companions. I won't be at work, so I will be free of the blog. Do with it as you please while I am away.

2007-08-01T16:17:00.000-05:00

Some people argue that humans are predisposed to violence - that making war is part of our genetic makeup. It has been discovered that one of our closest evolutionary relatives, the chimpanzee (whom we share 99 % DNA with), makes war amongst rival clans in neighboring territories. However, our other closest relative is the Bonobo whom does not make war with other Bonobos (whom we also share 99% of our DNA with) and uses peaceful and non-violent means to solve confrontations with each other.

War and violence are learned behaviors. They are behaviors that are rewarded in competitive societies. But peaceful mindsets can be rewarded as well. I am not sure that humans cannot live peacefully amongst each other. In fact, I think it is necessary that I believe we can. For without the hope that war and violence can be overcome in our increasingly smaller global culture, human suffering and cruelty will continue increase and our prospects for living meaningful and mindful lives will diminish.

We cannot respond to violence with violence nor can we respond to hate with hate.

Good God!

2007-07-31T10:10:00.000-05:00

The details remain unknown. He came back from Iraq with two sets of dog tags that were from young Iraqi men. He told a few people close to him they were innocent Iraqis he was ordered to shoot. Why or who ordered him to shoot them, we don't know. He said he kept the dog tags to honor the men. What we know is that he was haunted by these young Iraqi men upon returning home in 2004.

At first, he seemed normal although a little distant. Then he began drinking and a series of events led his parents to seek help from the VA. He was committed for a short while be released without being diagnosed with PTSD with the determination he was not a threat to others or himself. He slowly went downhill despite the love and support of his family. There was a car accident and more cases of drinking. His family hid away his knives and other items that they were afraid he would harm himself with. He spoke with his father one night about all that was troubling him.

Well, Monday night, when I got home, Jeffrey was in a total rage. He was pacing through the house. He was angry at the war, angry at everything. And I was trying to get him to calm down. And then he started talking of suicide. And he felt abandoned. He didn't know where to go.
At that point, I called the Vet Center, and I told them what was going on. And the Vet Center was tremendous. They spoke to me, got me to calm down, because we were all distraught by this time. And then they spoke to Jeff. And substantially Jeff was very calm after the phone call. They advised me to call the police, if necessary.
And what happened was that Jeff and I then started talking while I was doing some work. And then what happened with Jeff was -- it was about 11:30 at night, and everything was very -- I was exhausted, Jeff was exhausted, but he kept talking, and then finally he asked me if he would be able to sit in my lap. And so, forty-five minutes we rocked in silence. And the therapist told us after Jeff died that that was no doubt his last place of refuge, his last safe harbor that he felt that he could go to.
The next morning -- I stayed up ’til about 2:00 or 3:00 until Jeff went to bed, and he was calm. And then I got up, went to work. And then, of course, it was at 6:45 Tuesday evening that I came home.

Jeff is another casualty of war that won't be counted amongst the statistics. I don't want to make a political point about how we should get out of Iraq. I was out on the street protesting about our going there in the first place. I am sick of our support for war in general. This is how the father found his son - Jeff.

I was talking on the cell phone to Joyce, and I said, “Jeff, no doubt, is lying in front of the TV.” And so I told her I would call her back. So I went into the house, and I couldn't find Jeff. I went to his bedroom, and the one thing I noted was that his dog tags were laying on his bed. I then went out to the porch, to the deck. He wasn't there.

And so, then I went through the addition, and I saw the cellar door open. I could see a light on, and I caught some pictures that were laying on the floor, and in the center was his platoon picture. And I could see other pictures. So I went downstairs. My focus was on the pictures, because I couldn't understand why they were there. When I went up to the pictures, the platoon picture had blood on it. The picture of each of his sisters were on each side of the platoon picture, and then there was pictures of the family in a half-circle.

Then I saw Jeff, and Jeff was, I thought, standing at first, until I saw the hose double-looped around his neck. I went running over there, and I pushed Jeff up with my knees. And that was the last time he ever sat in my lap. I took the hose from around his neck, and I laid him down onto the floor, trying to make him comfortable. And at that point, I tried to rub his chest, because I thought I felt some warmth there. Otherwise he was very cold. So then I went upstairs and called the police.

We have to do more than end this war. We need to renounce war altogether. War! What is it good for? Absolutely nothing! Say it again.

More

Sell out.

2007-07-30T14:02:00.000-05:00

There was a term we used for bands that had gained commercial appeal by sacrificing their integrity. It was something we all realized was necessary to some degree, but some bands managed to pull it off more gracefully than others. For a local scene, if a band made the transition to a more national audience, there was no greater scorn than for a band that sold out.

What exactly does it mean to sell out?

In our society today, everything is measured by price. The only recognized value is price. Even our time has a price on it - time is money. Some people's time is worth more than others. My time is not worth quite as much as my bosses, but more than our office secretary. Yet, intuitively, we all know that some things in life our priceless. We sell our time to pursue some things that cannot be valued in a marketplace. Eight hours a day, five days a week buys us a few precious hours a week for such pursuits if we can make all of our payments necessary to maintain our lifestyles. Sometimes we dream about combining our priceless pursuits with our work. We think about making our hobbies into profit-making adventures. What would it take to profit off of our hobbies?

Selling out, of course.

This is the dilemma. As many jobs I have had, I have also had hobbies, dreams or goals. Each time my hobby has run up against the market, it has evaporated into a fine mist and blown away with the wind. For anything to have integrity and value that is long lasting it has to be motivated by something close to the heart and not by what can be obtained in the market.

This does not mean that anything that has sold for a price in the market is automatically crap and of no value. There are many examples of successful artists who have made a good living off of their art. However, their chosen craft would still be the same whether they made money or not off of it - for they are motivated by something that comes from within.

Right now I garden when I am not working. Someday I would like to farm, but this notion of value and markets has me worried. I can see what happens to farmers and the economics of agriculture. There is an incentive to get into organic farming because right now there is a large demand for organic products. Walmart, Target, Sam's club and many other retail stores are devoting several aisles to organic products. However, farmers should never forget that these outlets and buyers of their production are forever in search of selling at the lowest price to their consumers and generating profits for their shareholders. When agricultural products are in large supply, the market place will lower the price. Eventually, the market for organic products will bottom out and farmers will get lower and lower prices for their ever-increasing yields.

The temptation to produce one crop on a farm is huge. Even local organic farms selling their produce at Farmers Markets are in search of products that will sell. If a farmer just follows the seasons and sells only what is in season, they will always have competition from other area farms and the price for their products will be driven down. Everyone loves tomato season, but it is the farmer that brings the first tomatoes to market that gets the highest prices. Tomatoes in the fall are going to sell for much less. So, one farmer begins growing tomatoes in January in a greenhouse, so they have ripe tomatoes in May or June. Soon everyone has a greenhouse and is selling tomatoes in June. This is wonderful for tomato lovers, but works contrary to what the farmer seeks - high prices.

This is where farming for the love of farming comes in. The first priority of the gifted farmer is producing good food to eat, while taking care of the soil and land. The wonderful thing about farming and gardening is that cornucopias amounts of produce are generated during the season. It is an awesome task to put all the tomatoes, green beans, lettuce, carrots, potatoes, garlic, onions, etc. to good use before it spoils and must be returned to the compost heap. The kitchen is filled with activity this time of the year - cooking, canning, freezing and fermenting. The same goes for dairy, meat and poultry production. What throws all this out of balance is when the farm is devoted to the market and yields of selected crops are emphasized over more diversified production using holistic practices. Of course, farms require land and land costs money that often necessitates debt owed to banks that only care about the profits of the farm. What this means for me is that I can't think of farming as a livelihood, but must instead devote my energies to a garden that produces vegetables and fruits for seasonal consumption of my family and friends. An expanding garden can never come at the expense of "selling out," or the next in my line of hobbies will dissipate into thin air.

2007-07-27T15:19:00.000-05:00

A listing of jobs I've had in my life

occupation Company Age
paperboy Mpls Star and Trib 12-14
Sodbuster Smith Landscaping 14-17
Workstudy South Dakota At University 19
Landscaper Mickbrothers Landscaping 19-20
Gas Station attn. Sinclair 20
Maid and Houseman Ironblossom Resort Snowbird 20
Stock Lumber Knox Lumber 20-21
cafeteria worker St Cloud St University 22-24
Convenience Store Clerk Tom Thumb Stores 21-22
Stock Clerk Kmart 22-23
Landscaper Hollands Landscaping 23-26
Bellman Snowbird Ski Resort 24
Taxi Driver Handicabs 27
Mail Carrier USPS 27-34
Teacher/Grad Asst Rensselaer Poly Inst 35-38
Teacher Cordon Blue-Browns Inst 39
Bus Driver Rheiben Transpor 40-41
Correction Officer Henn CO. Jv Det Center 41
City Bureaucrat 41-43

Thats a pretty good list.

What's the point?

2007-07-26T16:08:00.000-05:00

I've talked about goals in a previous thread. I have had more jobs than I can count and someday I will list than all in a future thread. I've had many dreams and desires that I have pursued at various times and this question - What is the Point - usually ends up being the end of the pursuit. Yesterday I had that thought as I contemplated a new post for this blog.

It comes without warning usually and is usually accompanied by a wave of sadness. I am not prone to what our society refers to as depression. I don't believe in taking medication for chemical imbalances in the brain. For a number of reasons I don't find the rationale that depression is caused by some dysfunction of our brains convincing. I actually like getting sad. It makes me feel alive. It starts my brain searching and questioning. When I am sad, I blame it on my surroundings and I seek to change what I am doing. This is what leads me to asking the question that can never be answered - What is the point? The answer I come up with is always liberating - there is no point.

Tour De France

2007-07-25T16:07:00.001-05:00

What the Hell?

Another rider has tested positive for testosterone and another team has pulled out of the race. I can't believe this. It really makes one wonder after the fiasco from last year with Landis. I was as much of a fan of the Tour during the Armstrong years as anyone. I would make time to catch races as they were happening for important stages. But, his domination of it for seven years. You really have to wonder. Was he that good? or was he doping, too.

Sheezus, why would riders continue to try and beat the system and will they always continue to do so? Some current riders must know that Armstrong could get away with it, so they can, too.

Blueberries and Family

2007-07-24T15:29:00.000-05:00

My wife, son and I woke up Saturday morning and drove to a farm in Western Wisconsin to pick Blueberries. We were there for two hours and picked 15 lbs (and probably ate a lb or two more). If you haven't had this experience as a family, I suggest you set aside some time soon to go berry picking. My son had a wonderful time and was chattering away about all the berries he was finding and eating. He was so proud of his harvest he was gathering and was in no hurry to leave when we had our fill.

More Irony

2007-07-24T15:13:00.000-05:00

I walked through a downtown park on the way to the Mississippi River to lay down for an lunch-time nap in the near the waters flowing from Lake Itasca through the Gulf of Mexico. On my way I was accosted by another homeless person (like any modern metropolis, St Paul is filled with homeless individuals whom the city is currently considering options to make invisible for the upcoming 2008 Republican Convention). He was holding a package of cards with hand drawn art upon them. An Eagle was depicted with the saying "Proud to be an American." written above it.

"Sir, Sir, Sir - Would you like to purchase a drawing? A card?, " he said as I strained my eyes to read the printing he held out to me.

"Sorry," I said, "No, thanks," as I walked on by and he moved on to the next lunch taker walking through the park.

I usually do purchase and hand out what is in my wallet to those who ask of me. Today, I walked by though as I was offended by the card. If he had drawn an Eagle casting a glance downward and written simply "Shame" above it, I would have reached for my wallet.

Haiti and Our Shame

2007-07-24T12:23:00.000-05:00

He was the democratically elected leader of a nation. He was popular in his home country. On February 29, 2004, members of the American military and other officials broke into his home and kidnapped him then transported him to Central African Republic and held him in captivity until his release was negotiated by Randall Robinson and others. Amy Goodman interviewed Robinson on Democracy Now, yesterday.

Despite his popularity, Jean-Bertrand Aristide, has still not been allowed to return to Haiti. Haiti has a long history of being abused and exploited by Western Nations. It was originally a slave colony of France where the slaves revolted and won in 1804, thus establishing the first democracy where everyone was a participant and free it the world. (The US had slavery).

Rather than embrace this new young democracy as allies, The US worked to undermine the nation by joining with France to embargo the nation. The US was afraid of what would become of its slaves if the successes of the slave revolution were made known to slaves in America. France also charged Haiti with a debt for the freed slaves that Haiti didn't pay off entirely until 150 years later. Aristide was gathering international support in an effort to get France to make reparations for these debt payments that crippled Haiti's economy that continues to struggle today. Despite Frances vocal opposition to the US invasion of Iraq in 2003, France willingly went along with the coup to oust Aristide in 2004. All of this is available via Robinson and his new book, An Unbroken Agony: Haiti, From Revolution to the Kidnapping of a President.

When reading such accounts of our past and current imperialistic adventures around the world, it makes one cynical about our democracy in America where nothing is beyond the realm of possibilities when considering various ideas and theories that commonly fall under the heading of conspiracy. I don't dismiss any allegation anymore of the potential corruption of those representing the money interests in America. Obviously, to embrace such theories as absolute truth is foolhardy. But to dismiss such theories out-of-hand as preposterous is equally foolish.

I have read many of Robinson's previous works and find him a compelling and honest writer. The fact that he makes me look at our culture under a scrutinizing lens and ask hard questions about our history I think is enlightening. It makes me really believe the old adage that none of us are truly free when their are others suffering under tyranny somewhere else in the world. We should be ashamed of our actions in Haiti, even more so than our invasion of Iraq. We have had a long history of abuse in our relations with this democratic island nation that is led and populated by descendants of former slaves. America will never be truly free until it comes to terms with its past as imperialist, slaveholders and conquerors/exterminators of entire tribes and nations of people. Most of this past helped consolidate power in our nation today and contributes to our corrupt ways as can be seen by our actions in Iraq, Afghanistan, Guantanamo and, now, the Island nation of Haiti.

Speaking of Faith

2007-07-23T15:34:00.000-05:00

I had a long and fulfilling day in the Garden yesterday. There were weeds to be pulled, composts to be turned, fruits and vegetables to be harvested, second round of plants to be planted, and organic fertilizer to be applied. I woke of this morning sore, but completely refreshed.

Sundays are a great day for gardening. I don't belong to an organized church, so my spiritual time could not be better spent than working with soil and plants. Often, I will set up the radio and turn it to a baseball game - the Minnesota Twins - since Sundays usually mean a day game. Yesterday the Twins lost to the California Angels, 7 -2, but not even this could spoil my mood.

After the game I turned the radio to NPR and tuned into Barbara Kingsolver being interviewed on Speaking of Faith. The segment was called The Ethics of Eating. Kingsolver and her family went one year with trying to raise all the food necessary for their living on their own property. THey supplemented what they could raise with trips to the local Farmers Markets and, if they had to, purchases of organic food from the grocery store. What they were attempting to accomplish was to live off of food that was raised in or near their locality and not support our international corporate food supply. She made several interesting points about questions people don't ask about where our food comes from.

Of course, all of this is just confirmation of my own views and was perfectly accommodating to my afternoon spent in the garden. I share similar goals to Kingsolver and have to echo her statement that purchasing your food locality and tending a garden has benefits that go beyond financial and is not that hard to do. It is a choice available to us all that has many spiritual and ethical benefits.

There went Friday

2007-07-20T16:34:00.000-05:00

And here comes the weekend.

See you all Monday, but I have a question if anyone can provide an answer.

Why isn't there a U after the Q in Al Qeada? I was told that Q always comes with a U. No wonder they are terrorists.

Tough SOB's

2007-07-19T13:48:00.001-05:00

I always admired the artists who seemed like tough motherF@#*ers. My first rock-n-roll hero was Kieth Richard, but his fame and acclaim has kind of eroded my view of him over the years. Now when I think of tough I think of the guys from punk bands who made it to the top of their scene, but are now kind of floundering around as their audience grew up and many of the musicians they traveled amongst died. Mike Watt, Bob Mould, and Curt Kirkwook. I can't tell you how much it warms my heart to learn that Curt has recently reunited with his brother Chris.

Brothers Meat, you come through Minneapolis soon and I'm there like I was before.

Delicious Irony

2007-07-19T13:44:00.000-05:00

Over lunch hour I am walking through the park and I overhear this little snippet of a conversation between two middle-aged homeless men sitting on a park Bench.

"Its a long lonely road to the top."

"Uh-huh."

A poorly written plot, and we believe this stuff?

2007-07-19T10:40:00.000-05:00

I want to make a confession – I am a political junkie. I enjoy politics. My favorite blogs to read are political and sports blogs. Although, I contemplated starting a blog that was political, so I could push an agenda and challenge the power-structure in our nation, I had a fleeting moment of good judgment and decided not to. My favorite blog of all time was Billmon’s Whiskey Bar. I was just a reader, but he had insight and wit. The problem with political blogs is simple as the old adage – opinions are like assholes, everyone has them.

Most political blogs are discussing the Iraq war and how we are going to end it. Everyone claims to know what will happen under different scenarios. Some go as far as explaining the logistics of withdrawal, the escalation of violence and the political fallout that will result when we withdraw our troops. If I were to opine in on this discussion, I would be as dishonest as everyone else, because the only thing that we really know is that people are dying now and people will die in the future while the human drama continues.

I find it ridiculous that people sit in front of terminals all over the world and read about events happening and different opinions on events and then jump into the discussions with convictions that are solidified on nothing more than rumors and propaganda.

What I could comment on though is the propaganda. As the debate in congress and the media heats up on troop withdrawal, the news we read in the papers begins to contain stories that are predictable and unoriginal. First, there was a vote in November putting the Democrats in control of the congress strictly on the beliefs of the citizens that we need to extricate ourselves from the quagmire in Iraq. This was followed by a certain humility in the administration and the Rumsfeld stepping down. Shortly after that we bagan debating a surge, as if this was a legitimate option. Then, we heard about Iran’s nuclear intentions. But, as the surge began taking place we started hearing more about Al Qaeda. The Iraqi Insurgents killed during the first wave of the Surge were suddenly Al Qaeda. As US troops began dying in increasing frequency, we were told that Al Qaeda strongholds in Iraq were being destroyed. However, other reports from Iraq showed that the stability of the region were still in question and the benchmarks for the new Iraqi government were not being reached.

Congress again begins to debate and Democrats are encouraged to take a stand and suddenly an National Intelligence report is issued on the rise of the influence in Al Qaeda in the World and the strong ties between the leadership in Pakistan and the Al Qaeda leaders in Iraq. Supposedly we had killed the main leader of Al Qeada in Iraq many months ago in Al- Zarqawi, whom had worn out his welcome amongst the Iraqi population. But, if we are going to have wars we need a real enemy and the focus groups must say that Iran doesn’t have the same evil face that Al-Qeada does. So, now we have someone whom we have captured in Iraq who was actually responsible for the connection between the Al-Qeada leadership in Pakistan and the Al-Qeada groups in Iraq. But, we don’t know where the leadership is in Pakistan (Gee, did anyone think to ask the guy that?) but we have the central front on the war on terror and Iraq cannot be a safe haven for terrorists. So, our troops have to keep fighting Al Qeada in Iraq (which is separate from Al Qeada Core, but is really the same as Al Qeada Core in Pakistan though operating out of Iraq).

And, we believe this stuff? Or, at least enough of us are distracted by it to forget for a moment about the War that has continued to be supported by lies. Through this all, there is this background threat of Iraq, which has little to do with Al Qeada. Al-Qeada is Sunni and Iran is Shia. The Iraqi government is dominated by Shia and enjoys the support of the majority Shia population in Iraq that was previously ruled by Saddam who was Sunni and had a great resentment towards Al Qeada. History tells us that all sorts of conditions can create allies amongst previous enemies. What is happening in Iraq is definitely complex, and I don’t know what is going on any more than you do. However, all this talk of Al-Qeada might as well have been written by Orwell.

We are being played like an out of tune piano and the sound coming out is screechy and eerie. It sounds so bad, I have a difficult time believing they are playing this tune for us. But, we’ve been played similar tunes from this bad opera before and the ending does not appear to be any where in sight.

So, What's the deal with Peaches?

2007-07-18T14:30:00.000-05:00

It started as a joke. My friend decided he was going to annoy me and started calling me Peaches. This was a long time ago when we were goofing around in our twenties. It didn’t really take hold. It was a balancing act. My friend was persistent and he knew how to push my buttons. If I protested too loudly, the nickname was going to stick like bugs to sap. My girlfriend at the time loved it, so she picked it up. I just kind of ignored it and rolled my eyes ever so slightly when I heard it, as if to suggest I was surrounded by children.

Overtime, my friend was really the only one who kept calling me Peaches. He’s a very good friend and we have spent a lot of time around each other so I just let him call me that and explained to others that my friend was a juvenile and I was unsure why I put up with him.

One day I bought a CD by Nina Simone and listened to a song called four women. It is a great song telling the story of four black women in America. The last woman is pissed and in the last line of the last stanza Nina screams “THEY CALL ME PEACHES!!!!” I played it for my friend and from then on I embraced the nickname. Today, all my cronies (best friends in the world) call me Peaches.

I first started using it online while playing an internet game called RealmWars. It was hosted by a guy named Bit who site was called PlanetBang. I was there too much playing an addictive game and avoiding life’s responsibilities. It was fun though and very interesting watching this online community come together and evolve. I was one of the older players and, at first, Peaches took a lot of crap. But, people soon learned that Peaches was a good ally and could whip ass on you in the game. Peaches took his share of ass-whooping, too. When I was asked about my name (at first, people always assumed I was a chick, and thought it was cool I was playing this war game), I’d started explaining about the 6’3” tattooed 350lb Hell’s Angel Member everyone called “Tiny.” That’s who Peaches was. It was a little exaggeration, but it fit for Realm Wars.

Eventually, I had to stop playing this game or be locked into the virtual world without friends and family forever. So, I unhooked the internet from my house and stopped playing. Then, I began posting on a political blog called Talkleft.com as Peaches and a new personality was born. Peaches is basically me. Most of his ideas are my own. However, Peaches goes off half-cocked a lot, although he attempts to be fair. For the most part, Peaches is a lot smarter than I. I mean, he surprises me. He is all over the place at Talkleft and sometimes I find his ideas difficult to pin down. Sometimes he sounds like a conservative and sometimes a liberal, but he insists on identifying only as a liberal. Well, again, this sounds like me. But, I tell you, in all honesty, Peaches is a hell of a lot smarter than I am.

The Goal - what is it?

2007-07-17T15:33:00.000-05:00

It was in summer basketball camp that the high school coach told us that none of us would ever be playing NBA basketball. I was defiant. I could not even start for my junior high team, but I was convinced through hard work I could be a professional basketball player. My more immediate goal was to play for the High School Varsity team – the Osseo Orioles. I attended every home game as a youngster. I would cheer on the Orange and black team and knew all the starting players. It seemed an honor to be able to wear those flashy warm-ups and all I desired was to one day be able to play on that team.

I shot baskets over and over again in our driveway and developed a potent outside shot. But, I was small and not very strong. I had not grown since I was in the fourth grade and by my ninth grade year I was an undersized and skinny guard. Going into to my sophomore year, it seemed like I would probably get cut once tryouts for the basketball team commenced. Suddenly, I began to grow but not upward. My feet and hands grew. I was 5’7” with a size 13 basketball shoe and I could not run down the court without falling down. I think I made the team, strictly because the coaches knew my father (he was 6’4”) and the looked at my feet and knew I had to grow into them eventually. My junior year I was 5’10” and going into my senior year I was 6’3” although still skinny weighing barely 135 lbs. I made the team and I could shoot and handle the ball decently. I was wearing the uniform, but I stopped having fun. Suddenly basketball was not very fun.

I started running distances my senior year. In my phy. ed. class my junior year, I ran a 4:57 mile in high-top basket ball shoes. I was skinny and all legs. I could run forever without tiring. My phy ed teacher was also the Cross-country coach. He told me if I trained all summer I would be the State Champion in the fall. I didn’t train over the summer, but since I was assured of a place on the roster for the varsity basketball team in the winter, I decided I might as well go out for the cross-country team as well and I had a blast. I wasn’t the state champ but I was all state, all conference, all regional and our team went to the state meet. I ran a 4:20 mile and a 9:26 2-mile in the spring and suddenly I my goal went from the NBA to the Olympics.

I ran cross-country in college and track, but I never really trained during the summers. I slowly put on weight and eventually my frame filled out with muscle that was not conducive to being carried over long distances. Besides, I started playing the guitar and decided I was going to be a rock star. Then, I was going to be a politician, then get my PhD.

Goals? What is the goal in life? One of the things I realized about sports and competition is that there is no ultimate goal. We strive to be a champion and, in the majority of cases, most of us will never get there. But, even the champions have to defend their title and eventually will be dethroned. So, we end all competitive pursuits with failure. That is our last memory. And, I knew I wanted more in life than failure. But, what is success?

Is there a goal in life? Raise a family, is that it? I really don’t know what it is. It might be to live the good life, but to live the good life we first have to decide what the good life is. I suppose that is the spot I am at right now. I am trying to define what the good life is, so I can make a goal worth striving for. In the meantime, it is just one day at a time, or on a more cynical note - as Celine says - Death on the Installment Plan.

The drive with my Grandma

2007-07-16T11:13:00.000-05:00

“You wouldn’t even believe it, Andy. The wind, it was blowing. Where there were fences was a mound of dirt and the pigs and cows would walk right over the fences. People were starving in the cities. We had food. We always had food. But, Dad worked so hard. He would have to go to the county and pick up feed for the cows. Just a little handful a day – enough to keep them alive, and then in the winter he had to repay them for the feed by working all day putting gravel down on the roads. He found a trucker to take the horses to a field near Granite Falls, because they had some rain, see? And, then we heard that one of the horses had sleeping sickness. So, they sent him home and he died. Dad worked so hard.

He had two brothers in California, Uncle Ervin and Uncle Elmore, who owned lumber yards and they wanted him to move there because they knew he was getting old. So he decided to go and Martin and I were just married and Grandpa wanted to go with him. So, we all went, but the work for the lumber yards was even harder. They drove trucks and they didn’t know where they were going. Sometimes they had to go to LA and deliver to the Negroes there. They worked all day. Dad wanted to go back and Martin wanted to farm. So, we moved back and bought the grocery store and Dad retired soon after.

It was hard during the depression, you would never believe it – how it was. But, we had so many pets and we were happy. The cats would line up on that board every morning and wait with their mouths open for Dad to squirt the milk into their mouths right from the cows. I had to help Dad with the chores too, cause I was the oldest, so I was the hired hand. I did the man’s work. I drove since I was twelve to deliver Dad his lunch every day in the field or wherever he was. And we had a garden, Mom kept a big garden. We’d can tomatoes. And an Apple Orchard in the back, a couple cherry trees. Oh, we had fun. WE were never hungry, Mom only had to buy sugar and flour, otherwise we had everything. One Christmas all we got was we each got a new outfit for our dolls – that was it. We didn’t have money, but we were happy.

Oh, I’ve been talking your ear off.”

“No, Grandma. Tell me more.”

And she did. Farming is a hard life, there is no doubt. No one should ever think it isn’t. But, once my grandpa and great-grandpa left for California – left their homesteads – they spent the rest of their days pining over the old days on the farm.

See you Monday

2007-07-13T16:34:00.000-05:00

Time to go, have a great weekend.

This has been a crazy week at work. Busier than normal. But, not really that bad. I'm going to spend the weekend listening to the Minnesota Twins play on the radio while working in the garden. I am also picking up my Grandma from her assisted living home in southern Minnesota for Sunday dinner. Shes 86 and little lonesome since my grandpa died this winter. It'll be good to see her.

Berries and breakfast

2007-07-13T16:15:00.000-05:00

Every morning I pick a few raspberries for my morning breakfast out of two bushes I planted last year. I planted 5 more red raspberry and 5 black raspberry bushes this year which should start producing well next year. I also have a fairly large strawberry patch and I plan on making space in the garden for a row of blueberry bushes also. I purchase frozen berries for my breakfast all year round. I would love to produce enough berries in my garden during the summer berry season to supply my berry fix for the entire year.

Here is my mornign breakfast.

handful of frozen organic blueberries
handful of frozen Org raspberries
handful of frozen Org strawberries
one banana sliced
2 heaping teaspoons of Wheat germ
2 heaping teaspoons of ground flax seed
1 teaspoon of bee pollen
covered with 1/2 to 1 cup of Muesli (Bobs Red Mill usually)
pour plain Organic vanilla Yogurt over and mix all ingerdients in large ceral bowl

Add a little soy milk and let sit while I drink cup of coffee and read paper, then shit(this high grain breakfast keeps me very regular), shave and shower (Usually about 45 minutes to an hour). Mix again and eat.

This is a filling and very nutritiousway to start the day providing an energy boost for almost the entire work day. I usually drink tea at work, have a light sandwich at lunch and come home to a large salad (out of the garden fro 6-8 months a year) and hearty dinner.

My goal is to be self-sufficient on the berries within a year or two.

Music

2007-07-13T11:51:00.000-05:00

There was a time I wanted to be a rock star. I played in a band for a few years in the late 1980’s and early nineties. It started in Fargo North Dakota while I was in College. We had a little following there. One of the bands I helped found went on to some small national fame after I stopped playing with them and moved to Mpls when I graduated – Hammerhead.

Those were some great times in my life. I loved creating music and when you are in your twenties with a lot of time on your hands, you can really blossom under a heavy dose of delusion and obsession. My memory holds some notions that we actually were the greatest rock-n-roll band for those fleeting moments in a basement of a small home overlooking the wheat and sugar beet fields of the Red River Valley.

I started a couple of bands when I moved to Minneapolis, and although I became more technically proficient on the guitar, the inspiration for creating music was gone. Slowly, as I have grown older, music has become more and more trivial to me.

I still love to hear a good song and I pick up my guitar once in a blue moon to strum a couple of chords. I even have some recording software and I have put some songs together with all the parts. I am very thankful for those delusional and obsessive days of my youth, because although genius is no longer within my grasp on the guitar or in writing songs, playing music is a lot like riding a bike in that you never forget the mechanics of it. I can pick up the guitar and play a song that I have formed in my head, even if my guitar has laid untouched for a month or more.

But, music is too technical and the obsession is long gone. First I discarded all my albums (<500)i>

Maybe it is just that I am getting older, I don’t know. But, there is something that is lost when everything is just available to you. We get bogged down in choice until we become paralyzed. I long for the days when all I had to decide was whether I should listen to Exile on Main Street one more time or the Kinks Arthur.

I remember the excitement I felt when I began listening to music from Jamaica and then Africa. I also used to love to hear what they were doing in Seattle or Athens. Now, that music really is global there is no connection of music to a place. It is all just digitalized notes downloaded into cyberspace. But the music I loved grew out of the South in some dire conditions for downtrodden people. It was fused with the land these cultures identified with. And out of that land, music was formed that traveled full circle around the world. Blues, Jazz, Country Western, Rock, Soul, R&B, etc, all came from a place and wherever it landed it took on the forms and cultures of the place it arrived at. Music now never arrives at a place and it doesn’t sound like music anymore to my ears. I’d rather listen to songbirds in my garden and the winds whipping through the trees – even the hum of the freeway in the distance and airplanes overhead – than the music that comes to us from cyberspace.

I hate war

2007-07-12T16:25:00.000-05:00

I am really getting tired of all this. What the hell? We get a surge for our efforts last November. Somehow I am not surprised, but I am getting more and more cynical.

Read this from The Nation. All of this was so predictable. War means innocents die and we have been doing this too long.

I see the only plausible long-term solution to be one of secession. Bye Bye American Empire. I think it is time to give up on everything American except its original ideals and hopes. The Empire is out of control. Its been this way for far too long. But, it is getting much much worse lately.

Harry Potter

2007-07-12T16:23:00.000-05:00

I was reading in my daily scribe, which isn’t much of a daily scribe anymore with the takeovers by Wall Street investment groups and profit speculators and the sell-offs and the layoffs, about what makes Harry Potter a success. It seems there is a formula for the hero that the series follows that has proven effective. I didn’t read it closely, but I was struck by the observation that Harry was orphaned and raised in a school without parents – apparently a common theme for the protagonist of successful tales.

I hate when I have these ideas about family values that make me think the adage about being a liberal when you are twenty and having a soul, while being a conservative when your 40 and having a brain seem true, because I still identify as a liberal. I am not talking about family values though. I am an independent person who is not particularly close to my parents. I appreciate my parents for their role in raising me and bringing me into the world. I just wonder if there is something deeply and inherently wrong with our culture and if there is, since I am a part of this culture, then I can discover it by looking deeply at myself.

My Grandfather left the small town and moved to California during the depression. His family stayed home on the farm. He was part of the first major exodus from small towns to urban areas. Eventually, he returned to the community, but not as a farmer. He ran a small grocery store. My father left the small town and raised our family in the suburbs of Minneapolis. He was part of the last exodus that doomed small towns for good. But, as a child, I made many trips to visit my grandparents grocery store in the small town. It was a four hour drive and I have many cherished memories of time spent with my grandparents and small town living in an agricultural community – albeit a dying one at that. These trips required a 4 hour drive one-way, but still we made frequent weekend drives.

I live less than 30 minutes from my parent’s townhome. My son visits my mother and father about 3-4 times a year at their home. This is much less than I spent with my grandparents. His other grandparents operate the beautiful hay and alfalfa farm near us as well. My son cannot get enough of spending time with my father-in-law and his tractors.

Part of the appeal is the land, I am sure. But, I wonder how long this will last. Eventually, the farm will be associated with work for my son and without a love for work and the time spent with loved ones working together this love for the farm will dissipate as it has over and over again amongst rural families.

My friend is a sixth-grade teacher and he tells me that he tells his students on the first day of class every year that he is going to be spending more time with them than their parents. Public schools have taken over the role of raising our children. Who needs parents anymore? Public schools in rural communities educate the children to be productive members of our economy. This has nothing to do with preserving the community these schools are in. Graduates like my father left the community to work in the cities rather than toil away on the farms in the area.

Myths like Harry Potter only add to this message that parents and families are not needed for the development and maturation of our children. All we need to do is send them to school. I have recently come to believe that sustainable economies can only be found in small rural communities where wealth is produced from taking care of the land and community and not by speculative ventures where profits are made through buying and selling commodities. This wealth has not been appreciated in our present economy, but it will eventually be necessary to return to our rural roots if we wish to live in harmony with our environment and in a sustainable manner.

For this to happen we are going to need new ways of educating our youth and alternatives to Harry Potter for myths to raise our children on.

I'll be there

2007-07-11T15:46:00.000-05:00

Its time to make my peace with Barry Bonds and I think I did last night. I was watching his at bat against Beckett and I actually jumped off the coach in anticipation of the homerun, ready to give him a huge cheer - a loud YES, BARRY! BARRY, BARRY.

I had to check myself to see what just happened. I’ve been one of those baseball purists over the last couple of years who is convinced Barry used Steroids and I remain convinced that his steroid use is a strong possibility. But, I also always suspected Lance Armstrong must have used Steroids and that never stopped me from watching the stages in the Tour-de-France and his domination of it. I would be in favor of them taking all of Lances championship trophies away from him for his violations, if proved, but still nothing can take away from that moment in the 2000 Tour, I think it was, when Lance was going up some mountain, leading Ulrich (another alleged steroid user) and glancing back at him as if to say, “you hurting Jan, well, lets just pick if up a little then,” and then raced away opening up a large lead.

There is something about a dominant sports athletic performance that is spectacular to watch. I’d rather know that these dominant performances were not steroid produced, but what if everyone is doing them? You still have to admire the feat. No one in baseball has been even close to as dominant as Barry Bonds over the second half of his career. He hit balls out of the park like popcorn popping. I don’t know what I think about him being in the Hall of Fame, but I decided I’m going on barry-watch and I’m not going to miss his breaking of Henry Aaron’s record. I watched Henry break Ruth’s record and, dammit, I’m not going to miss this historical moment in Baseball, just as I never missed Armstrong’s run of tours or Clemon’s 350 victory or Mcguire’s historic run at Maris’s single season record.

Barry is one hell of a Baseball player, even if you factor in that he’s a cheater.

Dang,

2007-07-09T16:44:00.000-05:00

I had a nice weekend and a screwed up Monday. Way too many things to do in the office. I hate that. I was thinking all weekend about some of the things I wanted to write about, Now it's already time to go home. Oh well, I hope tomorrow goes a little smoother and I can get ahead of the wave a bit.

Yay!, It's already the weekend -that was a short week

2007-07-06T16:22:00.000-05:00

The previous post comes across a little self-righteous. You should always keep in mind when reading anything I write, that I really am just flying by the seat of my pants. I am not judging anyone on the way they live their lives. I just think each of us should take more care in our lives. Our lives might be more meaningful if we were producers for an economy in addition to being consumers and selling our labor. When producing goods for people to buy in our local communities we will take care in these products and how they are produced. That is something missing from today’s global economy.

I took out the comments feature for most of my threads a few weeks back. I just decided it wasn’t necessary and I hated to judge the quality of my posts by the number of comments I received. I will usually place a thread with the comments feature on at the end of the week so you can comment on the previous week’s posts, or anything else you like until your heart’s content over the weekend in this space.

I'm going to pick up a four-pack of 16oz cans of my new favorite micro brew available in Mpls/St Paul area -- Surleys Furious and one 4-pk of the Cynic too. See you on Monday the 9^th.

Why I am a Luddite?

2007-07-06T11:50:00.001-05:00

I promised to answer this question in a post last month. Well, Wendell Berry offers a pretty good explanation.

I rely on technology to navigate in this world. I am fully indoctrinated into American culture with a Masters degree in Economics. I can find my way around the computer quite well without being information systems technician. I know just enough to stay employed in this pecuniary economy.

It is my belief that most of the people I encounter everyday are not happy in their roles each one plays in this same economy. We each feel something is missing or we should be doing something else. Out connection to each other via electronic media, cell phones and text messaging leaves all of us feeling incomplete. I believe the primary component missing in our lives is a connection to place and community - culture. Contrary to the diversity specialists and multi-cultural advocates, culture is not tied to self-esteem or an individual's identity. Culture is attached to place and when we can buy culture through the mail and identify with images we see on television or on our computer, we lose a connection to our community and history. This loss is much greater than most people realize, for without this history we cannot function as citizens. We are no longer responsible for a place and neighborhood, but are rather concerned only with ourselves and our families. To be successful is to be mobile and if the community surrounds us is in danger of collapse, the successful ones will move their families to a new community. This lack of responsibility to a place is what is driving America to forget its glorious past and focus instead on its perilous future and each of our escapes.

All of this is driven by our new technologies and the only way to salvage our past is to begin taking care of a piece of land, however small at the expense of a pension, insurance, mobility, pecuniary gain. All wealth derives from material resources. The pecuniary wealth holders among the professional classes hold on the wealth is precarious at best as our collapsing housing market currently foreshadows. Buying and holding property cannot bring a return on an investment that is subject to exponential laws, unless it becomes speculative. However, these returns do not increase the real value of the land. Only stewardship and community building can raise the real return on the land.

The real return comes with a sense of place that is received from becoming part of a social network that depends on this place for its survival. We no longer have many places left in the US that are locally dependent as we rely more and more upon foreign imports of inferior products. These products are not inferior because they are produced by an inferior foreign people, but rather because they are not produced with care. They are produced with only one goal in mind -- profit. A local producer cares about what happens to the products he or she sells within the community because these products reflect on his or her reputation in the community. Multi-national global corporations have no such cares, outside of how they effect their bottm-lines. All this brings me back to the only permanent solution to the disease that infects our global culture, for lack of a better term describing our current condition.

We must place an emphasis on community and our local environments over technological advancements. Any technology that breaks apart a local community or harms a local habitat, should be restricted if not banned. Without such restrictions, we will continue down the path of individual pursuits of financial rewards at the expense of everything that is necessary for the pursuit of human freedoms and dignity in each of our lives.

My Niece Olivia

2007-07-06T10:00:00.000-05:00

taking a stroll through my garden last year. I don't have any recent photos for my garden this year, yet.

Fourth of July

2007-07-05T13:40:00.001-05:00

I'm probably not the first person to notice, but sometimes I wonder...

Yesterday, on the Fourth of July, I was on a bike ride with my son shortly before the sun was ready to set in the west. My son is five years old and really has not had any experience with fireworks in his conscious memory. I'm not much of a fan of watching explosions with the accompanying colorful patterns spilling across the night sky. It just never appealed that greatly to me, even as a child.

We pulled into our driveway on our bikes just as our neighbors began to set up their fireworks display on our road. My son wanted to watch, so we sat down in the grass and I watched colorful sparks, bright lights, amongst intermittent explosions as the smell of smoke permeated the air. We were treated to this display by our neighbors son, Eric and his friends. Eric is a 22 year old male, who floundered around after high school and couldn't find a job after failing several tests to become a union employee for heating and air conditioning installation and maintenance. He joined the armed services a year ago and is waiting to be shipped to Iraq this September. He seemed unusually poised, mature and calm as he answered my sons questions before lighting the next display. I am sure he spent a few hundred on this 25 minute fireworks performance that gave him only minimal pleasure as judged by his reaction to it.

Perhaps, I am reading too much into his temperament as he readies himself to go to Iraq where explosions will be commonplace and the "rockets red glare and the bombs bursting in air," will give proof to nothing more than horrible maiming, killing and destroying of his comrades and the Iraqi population.

For a nation that constantly trumpets calls for peace in the world and holds a self-image as a civilized country where democracy rules, it is strange that we have such a fascination and a glorification of that beastly human construct called war. From our national anthem to the annual fireworks display that are supposed to remind of us of our independence, we hardly place freedom, democracy, peace and humanity on the same pedestal we place war and the destruction that accompanies it.

My son watched with fascination as the display continued while my dog huddled shaking in his kennel from fright. When my son was two, I was coaxed to attend a fireworks performance on the fourth at a small town in Minnesota by family and friends. As the performance began my son ran quivering into my arms and buried his face in my chest as he cried inconsolably. Last night, at five, he was visibly excited to watch this much smaller display. I could not help but wonder what he was being conditioned to as Eric bent over to quietly light the next firework with his cigarette, knowing this won't be the last, and assuredly not the most spectacular, display - but it might be his last fourth of July.

Long weekend

2007-06-29T12:35:00.000-05:00

I have Monday through Wednesday off, so I won't be here 'till the fifth of July. I'm going camping with my son. It should be fun.

Happy Fourth of July.

The Hayloft

2007-06-29T09:48:00.001-05:00

My father-in-law asked me to meet him after work at a horse farm to help unload two wagons of hay. I arrived at a small farm and was met by a distinguished older lady who showed me to the stables to change from my office clothes to my work clothes. My father-in-law showed up 20 minutes later with a wagon of hay which we promptly unloaded.

The woman’s daughter arrived while we were unloading the hay and was the owner/operator of the small horse stable. She was about 35 years old, had long dark hair, and was attractive with a nice figure. I am a married man and I have been out of the game of playing the field for several years. Still, it is nice to look at women from time to time and wonder about alternative lives imagining different scenarios for partnership. These thoughts have never gone beyond my imagination since I’ve been married and I don’t suspect they ever will.

We finished unloading the hay from the wagon, tossing it on the ground in front of the stable. My father-in-law drove away to pick up the other wagon and would be gone for an hour. Lisa, the daughter, gave me instructions on where to stack the hay in the stable. I worked on stacking the hay in one spot as she loaded up a small trailer attached to an all-terrain vehicle with bales to stack in another stable a short distance away. I finished stacking all the bales I could fit in the stable she showed me and went to lend her a hand.

I could handle loading, throwing and stacking the bales easier than Lisa. As I was helping Lisa made comments to her mom. “Oh, look at how he can lift them so easily up high.” And “He is soooo tall and strong.” I kept working, feeling proud and manly, and made quick work of stacking the bales in both spots.

It was an innocent line. I don’t think anything was meant from it, other than the practical aspect of showing me the next area to stack bales in. “Why don’t we go up in the hayloft?” Well, I’ve never been invited up into the hayloft by an attractive woman and as I followed her up the stairs, with my eye staring at those long legs tucked into tight jeans, my mind raced from one fantasy to the next as I considered the possibilities of what could happen in a hayloft.

Nothing happened in the hayloft and I kept my composure as we reached the top and she explained to me where we would stack the bales from the next wagon. When my father-in-law finally arrived, I worked up a sweat high in the loft with Lisa watching and commenting about how hot it was and what a good thing it is to have a man’s help around.

I left when we finished and said goodbye. When I came home, I had a beer to quench my thirst. I laid down to bed and my head was stilled filled with thoughts of pretty women and haylofts. I was unable to relieve myself of those thoughts and fantasies until I awoke in the morning and took a shower. Thank God, we have imaginations because they are wonderful. I’ll take it over a porn-site any day.

Notes to myself

2007-06-28T09:54:00.000-05:00

I have attempted several times to keep a running journal since my teen years. Most have been abandoned after a month or two of daily writing. I’ve written songs, poems, and stories that have never been published and probably shouldn’t ever be. I have had thoughts that being a journalist or writer might be my dream occupation. However, I lack the discipline to write down my thoughts and ideas regularly.

Blogspot used to be banned at my place of employment. I now am able to access it. So, I thought I would attempt to write my thoughts down once again. Right now, I am comforted to know I have had minimal visitors here. I am keeping an open diary because I’d like to develop a discipline for writing and hone some skills that might be advantageous in the future, if I can ever break away from the necessity for a full-time job moving someone else’s pyramid stones around.

That is the purpose of this blog, in case you were wondering. It is not meant to entertain you, if you have stumbled across it. Sorry. I am simply making notes to myself.

The Thread

2007-06-27T16:07:00.000-05:00

I am reading two books right now. One Dharma by Joseph Goldstein and The Revolt of the Elites by Chritopher Lasch.

I started this blog upon stumbling upon a friends blog called Pirsig Affliction. Its a long story, but I have come to be a fan of Matt's writing there on Philosophy and I missed not reading him for a couple of years after I stopped being subscribed to the MOQ.ORG mailing list. Anyway, he had a lot of posts and archives to go through, so I began printing off his threads at work and reading him at home as I became reacquainted with Richard Rorty and pragmatist philosopy. I don't know much about Philosophy but everything I have read from Matt seems to make a lot of sense to someone like myself with a bent toward the practical.

Well, funny thing is, no sooner than I finish catching up with Matt's thoughts, I begin the introduction to these two books which are completely dissimilar as far as topics. Let me quote from each beginning with One Dharma first.

A new mantra began emerging in my practice, and it was a very truthful response that had been plaguing me: "Who knows?" ..."Don't know mind," a phrase often used by Zen master Seung Sahn, enabled me to embrace a variety of perspectives, seeing the different views and methods as skillful means for liberation, rather than as the statements of absolute truths I was taking them to be. ..."Skillful means"is a phrase often found in Buddhist literature referring to the particular methods and practices used to help people free themselves from the bonds of ignorance. As skillful means we employ whatever is useful, whatever is truly helpful.

And from Revolt of the Elites:

The quest for certainty, which became an obsessive theme in modern thought when Descartes tried to ground philosophyin indubitable ppropositions, was misguided to begin with. As John Dewey pointed out, it distracted attention from the real business of philosophy, the attempt to arrive at "concrete judgments ...about ends and means in the regulation of practical behavior." In their pursuit of the absolute and immutable, philosophers took a disparaging view of the time-bound and contingent. In the world view of Western Phiosphy, knowing came to be split off from doing, theory from practice, the mind from body. ...The trouble in academia...derives not from the absence of secure foundations but the belief (shared it must be repeated by both parties of the debate) that in their absence the only possible outcome is a skepticism so deep that it becomes indistinguishable from nihilism. That this is not, in fact, the only possible outcome would have been abundantly clear to Dewey, and the revival of pragmatism as an object of historical and philosophical study--one of the few bright spots in an otherwise dismal picture--holds out some hope of a way out of the academic impasse.

I have always found that there is a thread weaving from the works of authors I read that resides somewhere in the pages - a truth revealed but remaining still unattainable. From Kundert to Goldstein to Lasch the thread remains as resolute as ever even as the subjects vary disparately.

Banks are okay, I guess

2007-06-27T09:11:00.001-05:00

I got a letter from TCF bank recently apologizing for their mistakes and asking that I reconsider my threat to never have anything to do with TCF in the future. They refunded me all service fees for overdraft charges - $297.00.

Wow,

All it takes is writing a letter, I suppose.

Opinions over Facts

2007-06-25T16:19:00.000-05:00

I have to admit to being slightly uncertain of my convictions. For the most part I am not sure of much. What gets my ire is when anyone proclaims something that they are certain of or dismisses something because it is preposterous and violates some notion they have about the ways of the world they are certain of.

In other words, the only thing I am certain of is that nothing is certain. Of course, that statement contradicts itself and the weight of certainty can be lifted from one’s shoulder simply by shrugging and saying, “Who the hell knows?”

I don’t want the polar ice caps to melt, but do I really know if man is causing global warming? Who the hell knows? I am in favor of some regulations reducing the amount of CO2 being put into the atmosphere because I don’t like the idea of burning fossil fuels and lowering the Earths storage of energy versus using the annual supply of solar energy and renewable resources. I read Buckminster Fuller as a youth in the 1970’s and he always made sense to me.

Here is where we are all confused and lost in this conundrum in my opinion, though. We expect someone else to solve the big problem facing our increasingly global economy. Science tells us that the Earth is warming and CO2 is the likely cause. There is a consensus. I don’t have the equipment or the know-how to verify if this is true or not, so I am just supposed to trust the experts. Fine, in this case I do. However, the experts in science have been wrong on the consensus view in the past. How do I know that this is not one of those cases?

In today’s world we are beholden to the experts. Our education does not teach us to verify the results of scientists, but rather to trust the experts and the work they produce. We are fed these results in the media and by journalists, whom we are supposed to trust can verify the results of the scientists. We are left with an elite group of experts making our decisions for us and arguments or debate usually is just one side spouting facts from one side at the opposing side. We leave for the experts to reach a consensus, then we scream at our opponent, “Science says!” How is this different than appealing to the Priests and the religious icons in the past to settle debate?

I think we often come at debate wrong. Many people think it is ignorant to begin with an opinion as opposed to having facts on hand. I disagree. I think one should begin first with an opinion that is based on ones experience and socially formed morality. For instance, I start most political arguments with a few basic opinions that reflect my morality.

We should have concern and compassion for our fellow human beings.
War is bad and should always be avoided in almost all instances.
We should preserve local resources and strive for a sustainable economy.
We share the Earth with other species and we should have some reverence for all species on Earth.
We should not take ourselves too seriously.
Love is universal and is the closest thing to an absolute humans can experience

There are others, but I begin with these opinions that are not backed up with scientific fact or religious ideology. However, when I meet my interlocutor, I must attempt to understand the opinions that inform his or her views. Once the point is reached where we each understand the others viewpoint, then we can reach for facts on hand supporting out views and work toward common understanding.

I once had a conservative friend in college. We used to go round and round on many issues. Over time we came an understanding. He believed that each person was only responsible for his or herself and his or her family. If everyone would just take care of his or herself, the world would take care of itself just fine. This view contradicted one of my fundamental starting points that we should have compassion and concern for the well-beings of others (#1). He believed that my views often led to people being worse off. For example, the welfare argument that giving a helping hand to someone promotes laziness. Well, we differed in our fundamental beliefs, but we had a starting point for a discussion. Neither of us was going to change the others view, but I did have to take into account the possibility that my compassion could lead to dire outcomes. I had to ask the question “What if I am wrong?” This is what leads to healthy discussions. If all we have is facts at our disposal when we go into a discussion and repeat the thoughts and ideas of experts with the facts they have provided us, we may be well-informed but we cannot have a discussion on important issues that will lead to productive results.

So, I think we should value opinions over facts. That’s my opinion at least

Lots of work today,

2007-06-22T09:44:00.000-05:00

The taxman has to send out the bills. I wanted to write a post on why I am a Luddite, but that will have to wait for another time. See you on Monday at 9:00

Have a great Weekend

Making Hay

2007-06-21T10:16:00.000-05:00

My wife called me at work yesterday. My father-in-law needed help putting up the hay. My voice betrayed my disappointment. I had some work to do in the garden I was planning for the evening. Everything was planted in my raised beds, but I was hoeing up the rows and planting in clover between the beds. I am a perfectionist in my garden, and I strive to make it look as pleasing as it is productive. Fresh Dutch White clover in the rows between the beds, not only adds nitrogen in the soil, but also adds more greenery and is a soft footing to tread upon.

But, I only tend a garden. My father-in-law is a farmer and when the hay has to be put up, he transforms from a good-natured and laid-back farmer into a crazed and hyper man transfixed upon finishing a job before the rain inevitably moves in to spoil the cut. So, when my father-in-law calls, I do my best to help. My garden can wait – the hay cannot.

I got off of work at 4:30 pm and drove out of downtown St. Paul. It is about an hours drive to Marine on St. Croix, where my in-laws have 240 acres of beautiful real estate that they use to grow alfalfa to sell to area horse and dairy farms. It was 92 degree out when I hopped in my car and I was not looking forward to the back-breaking work in the heat until sundown on the second longest day of the year (about 10:00 pm in these Northern latitudes). I turned on the radio and heard the weather report. A massive storm was moving in from St. Cloud and would be in the Twin Cities sometime this evening. The closer I got to Marine, the darker the clouds became looming on the horizon.

After stopping for gas and an ice cream cone (it was hot and I was hungry), I arrived at the farm about 6:00 pm (traffic was heavy). My father-in-law was on the tractor with my five-year-old son sitting proudly on the fender next to him. He was expectantly and noticeably in a panic as I stepped out of the car and he pulled up and asked me if I needed to change. I was still in my work clothes and I guiltily nodded yes. He said, “We’ll go rake a couple of rows and meet you at the wagons on the alfalfa field across the road.” I said, “Okay,” and waved hello to my son as he returned a big grin.

I put on my jeans, sun hat, t-shirt, boots and gloves and then walked to the wagons. I watched as they finished raking and then left to the building to unhook the rake before coming back to switch tractors to the one with the baler. My father-in-laws hurried panic gave me concern for my son’s safety, since usually he was very cautious and attending with him while doing work on the farm. With the dark clouds rolling in, I could see my father-in-law had greater concerns at the moment. However, my son was soaking and basking in his grandpas focused work on the tractor and was attending his every move on the tractor. I could see from his inspired face that he was deeply involved in a learning moment, so I said nothing.

They stopped and got off the tractor and my son ran to me and told me we had to stack the bales in the wagon before it rained. He hopped on the wagon and I guided my father-in-law back to the hitch and then hooked the wagon to the baler and then hopped in back with my son. I don’t look forward to the heavy work of stacking square bales on a wagon as they are thrown back from the baler and breathing in mouthfuls of hay dust. But as we drove away to the field and I looked across the farm at the beautiful fields surrounded by stands of hardwoods and pine with the dark clouds looming on the horizon and lightening stretching across the sky, I could not help but notice the beauty and feel the calm in the wake of my father-in-laws hurried work in front of us. My occasional glimpse of my father-in-laws eyes revealed that he also noticed this and, really, this is what kept him farming at his 70 years of age. He had put up four wagons himself, before I arrived. There was still a calmness in his eyes behind his exhaustion from the hurried work.

We circled the field and the bales flew back. I stacked them as my son heaved against the large bales to little effect. But, he nimbly moved around me and out of the way of flying bales as we bounced along through the field. My father-in-law had the tractor in a higher gear than he normally bales in, due to the limited time-frame we were working in. As the wagon filled, the sky grew darker and lightening strikes became closer with the thunder heard over the hum of the tractor. I adjusted to the rhythm of the baler and my son grew more excited as we climbed higher and higher upon the stacked rows of bales below us. There were five rows circling the field when we began that we had to put up and this would approximately fill the wagon with 150 bales. I could feel the first drops of rain as we rounded the last turn in the field and the sky grew almost as dark as night.

A couple claps of thunder and I noticed the concern in my father-in-laws eyes. My wife came running out warning of a tornado in a neighboring county and my father-in-law said my son should probably get off the wagon for the last go around. The disappointment in his eyes was noticeable, but he climbed down and ran to my wife’s arms and buried his face in her hips as he began to cry uncontrollably. We circled round and finished the last row and then I unhooked the wagon as my son came up with tears in his eyes. My father-in-law called him to the tractor and told him to get on quick before the rain comes. His sadness soon dissipated to pride once again as they drove away to the building and I started up the other tractor and backed it up to the filled wagon.

I made the short drive to the building and backed it in with my son, my wife and father-in-law watching. The rain came down hard just as I got off of the tractor and we stood in the doorway of the building together, covered in hay dust, and watched it coming down. It ended up being a shorter evening than I expected, but I was exhausted and exhilarated standing with my family and taking in the rain and work we had just completed. My father-in-law limped on his bad knee and laughed as my wife chided him over his putting up four wagons by himself earlier in the day. “What is a farmer to do,” he asked? Then he put his arm around my son and patted him on the head. “Right, Ian," he said, as a grin came across my son’s face that lit up all the rest of our faces. We laughed and waited for the rain to subside before running to the farmhouse to eat warmed-up pork chops and muskmelon, chased down with spritzers and beer. It was a grand way to spend an evening after work.

What is Wealth?

2007-06-20T15:25:00.000-05:00

The three basic needs of humanity are food, clothing and shelter. If these basic needs are met, then what constitutes wealth? Is it anything over and above these needs? In addition to these needs we might also include security. Most humans want some assurance that their basic needs will be met not only right now, but also in the future. Thus, humans store a surplus to make sure they have food, clothing and shelter in the future. If that is all wealth is, what are we all these shenanigans, or those things we call jobs, we are presently doing?

Credit cards, debts, savings accounts, investments and retirement. We buy things we want and accumulate debt and then start worrying about retirement. Our parents used to approach debt much more cautiously and began saving as soon as they had an income. We are much more comfortable with debt and many of us will have a negative savings until the day we retire – even with the uncertain knowledge that social security will be there when we do.

Economic theory divides people between producers and consumers. In the past almost all humans were producers and households only consumed what they produced. If an individual was a skilled craftsperson, he or she could trade whatever he or she produced for the goods and services he or she needed for the survival of the household.

I do not mean to glorify life in the past or ignore the hardship inherent in producing for the survival of the household. However, modern individuals and households have given up something in the transition from strictly producers to strictly consumers as the age of agriculture gave way to industry and now, finally, information.

Wealth is now strictly a number, in financial terms, and the larger the number the more influence one has over the events in the world. Take back ownership of the land that is the ultimate producer of wealth if you wish to redistribute wealth in this country and the world from the primary holders of pecuniary wealth to the masses or majority. It is a fools errand to get distracted by obtaining money. Money merely represents wealth in our society, but it does not create wealth.

Here is an interesting link on something called the L-curve. Check it out.

Economics-Neoclassical vs. the Heterodox

2007-06-19T11:57:00.000-05:00

Recently I was sent an article in The Nation Magazine called Hip Heterodoxy. It was an interesting read for someone who was once on track to earn a PhD in economics and join the world of the academics. The article makes the distinction between Ortodox and Heterodox economics in this way.

The term "heterodox"--like, say, "infidel"--is necessarily imprecise; it categorizes people by what they don't believe rather than what they do. In the case of heterodox economists, what they don't believe is the neoclassical model that anchors the economics profession.

I was in a department that was considered Heterodox,. In fact, my adviser is quoted in this article. It is strange to be defined by what you don't believe. I suppose heterodox are sort of like atheists - in their belief in the Truth of Not believing they suddenly sound exactly like the people that don't believe in.

The common definition of Neoclassical economics taken from Lionel Robbins is the science which describes human behaviour as a relationship between (given) ends and scarce means which have alternative uses. What Neoclassical Economics proposes is that we are all Utility Maximizers and Rational-decision makers with access to Perfect information. Behind these definitions are, what is called, Consumption and Production Functions that make up Supply and Demand Curves that determine something else called General Equilibrium. Neoclassical Economics proposes that markets tend toward Equilibrium, except in the case of market failure. There are many agreed upon instances of Market Failure, such as Monopoly power, Externalities, Public goods and Common resources, but for most markets, this model accurately describes how markets work and price is determined.

Graduate school in economics involves coursework that revolves around the mathematical equations that produce these terms in real values. Thus Price is Value and is a Real term represented by a number we can compare to other numbers or value. All of this reveals economics to be different from all the other social sciences because it has Mathematical validity and equations that support its theory and is thus considered by most economists and many others to be a Science. There is an elegance behind these equations that reveal Truth or Value in such real terms. It is very easy to be enamored by them. Heterodox economists are no less enamored by them than Orthodox economists.

There are many assumptions underlying the Neoclassical model and Utility Maximizer and Rational Decision makers with Perfect information are among the ones that Heterodox economist focus upon. What if humans are not Utility Maximizers (We're not)? What if we are not Rational Decision makers (We aren't)? And what if we do not have access to Perfect information (We don't)? Heterodox economists focus on these questions and spend their time doing empirical studies revealing that these assumptions and others are false.

They then tweak the model and attempt to write equations that more closely resemble how humans make decisions and come up with alternative equations for consumption and production functions so they can still determine General Equilibrium and their work will still be considered Science by their peers in economics and fit under the ever increasing rubric called Neoclassical Economics. The problem with their work is that the equations get increasingly complex and the heterodox economist loses the elegance that was the main attraction to Orthodox economics in the first place.

Milton Friedman, the orthodox economists figurehead, long ago admitted that many of the assumptions underlying neoclassical economics were false. In his essay The Methodology of Positive Economics, he argued that it was not important that humans were rational, but rather that they behaved as if they were rational in the aggregate and that the model should not be judged on the accuracy of its assumptions but rather on how well its performs. The problem with heterodox economists is that none of their models perform as well as the orthodox model.

So what is the problem with economics? Economics by itself is not the problem. Neoclassical economists proposed a model that is dominant within the field and now, to do economics, one must be adept at mathematics. Alfred Marshall, who first coined the term neoclassical economics, defined economics as a study of mankind in the ordinary business of life. This definition is much less specific and accurately describes how economists approached their discipline around the fin de siecle. Economists were located in philosophy departments and their papers were filled with rhetoric instead of equations as they tried to determine how humans attained happiness in life and the role that markets and money played in this pursuit.

The problem with orthodox and heterodox economists is their treatment of economics as a science, instead of a discpline that is searching for the answers to some fundamental questions such as "What are humans for?" and whether or not our quest for profits at the expense of our physical and mental healths is really in our best interests. Economics should have rhetorical arguments on the nature of our modern existence and whether or not we are really achieving any success in terms of freedom and happiness, as we go about our ordinary business in life. Neither Heterodox or orthodox economists are asking the right questions as they focus on how we make decisions by describing agents in abstract models taking their influence and formulation directly from the physical sciences, instead of what decisions we should be making that best preserve and benefit humanity and its future here or anywhere on the planet.

Getting Smaller

2007-06-18T14:47:00.000-05:00

I used to be a habitual reader of Paul Krugman in the New York Times. As a graduate student I taught an introductory Economics course to undergraduates and required the students under my tutelage to read and write their comments on Krugman's two columns a week. Now, that the New York Times Websites charges to read his column online, I no longer am able to read each one of his columns. This weekend my local daily ran a Krugman column in its editorial section. I learned that Americans are getting smaller.

Apparently a new study is out revealing that Americans are now on average three inches shorter than their European counterparts. We are also the shortest among the 18 top industrial countries despite having the largest per capital GDP. Thirty years earlier we were the tallest and three inches taller than our European counterparts. That is quite a switch.

Things do not look good for America. We are a dying nation. Everywhere we look around us we can see doom. Even our myths (television, games, Internet, etc.) are all about death and destruction. 9-11 was just a foreshadowing of our eventual collapse.

Krugman, ever the economist, explains our declining height on socioeconomics. Although partially right, he only alludes to the specific problems. Our bodies are made of the earth. We are destroying the earth that we are living upon. As the quality of our environment deteriorates, our bodies follow suit.

We have been consuming oil, coal and chemicals for so long we have forgotten we are nourished by the soil. We flush our soil away to the oceans and our bodies are a reflection of the meager shape of the topsoil we grow our food upon and the modified foods we pump into our bodies without the slightest notion or reverence for the Earth that provides for us.

Over time we slowly wilt away as cancers and disease consume our weakened flesh. For this to be happening physically before our eyes without our conscious acknowledgment can only be explained by minds that have become increasing numbed and slowed as a collective Alzheimer's disease slowly eats away a memory of our more glorious past while we operate under the continual disillusionment that we are an all-powerful and giant people, even as we verifiably shrink from existence.

Why Write a Blog, revisited

2007-06-18T08:48:00.000-05:00

What I am finding is how silly it is to blog. It is sort of like keeping a diary. I have made several aborted attempts at keeping a journal/Diary in the past and I suspect that one day I will abort this mission of keeping a blog online to write down random thoughts.

It is nice knowing that very few people have frequented this blog since I began it a little over a week ago. I actually went and got one of those tracking codes that tells me how many people have been visiting. It has been less and less everyday. I keep this blog out of boredom, as I have mentioned before. In the past I have visited several other blogs on the Internet and engaged in dialogue with other commenter's. After awhile you form an online personality. One of these personalities I maintain is at Talkleft.com and his name is Peaches. Peaches ideas are not much differet than my own, but the conversation has grown stifling as he has developed friendships and enemies over the three years he's been there. What has happened is everybody understands where Peaches comes from now and the discussions don't go very far since he is usually met with, "Well, That's great Peaches. Btw, how is the Garden?"

I am not going to attract a large flow of traffic here, because basically, writing out of the need to relieve boredom is, well, boring. As Charles Bukowski was fond of saying, "Only the boring get bored."

I prefer to think that not many readers are reading my random thoughts. But, the question I keep asking myself is why should I even attempt to keep a blog? What purpose could it practically serve? I am dumbfounded.

I suppose this has always been my limiting question for pursuits in the arts. What purpose would it serve? What do I have to offer? What thoughts could come out of my mind that would even be remotely interesting? And, listen, I don't have these questions because I have some self-esteem problem. Actually, I think pretty highly of myself - perhaps, too high. I'm just painfully aware that genius is a rare quality in America where our lives as automatons at work and our thoughts have been so carefully crafted through public education and the electronic media until we all are unimaginative drones repeating the same thoughts and ideas over and over to each other.

So, I suppose, somewhere within me I hold an unconscious impulse that says there is an ounce of originality inside me if I can just give it some nourishment. This blog might be that voice or it could be the echo of a the same voice we all hear telling us we are doing something unique and different. It is not the desire to do something unique and different that inspires me to write, but the desire to silence the voice coming from outside so I can hear the voice from within.

How To Blog?

2007-06-15T14:26:00.000-05:00

A while back a friend of mine had a blog who I hadn't kept in contact for awhile. I was excited to see he started a blog. Since I had known him he had become very savvy with the computer. I was not that good. I tried to start my own blog around that time, 2003 or so, and I couldn't figure it out. I was using Blogspot and they charged my credit card, but it was all foreign to me. I couldn't seem to get anything to work. But it was harder back then. But that is another story. My friend kept his blog going for three years and then made a post about how his new boss read his blog. Needless to say, shortly after he gave up his blog.

So, I have to wonder if this blogging deal is a very smart idea. Isn't there a risk involved. Then you read about how potential employers now check on the internet as part of a background check. It makes me wonder if keeping a blog is a smart thing to do? Hmmmmm. Stay tuned, I'll keep you informed.

I Hate Banks

2007-06-15T10:19:00.000-05:00

I Think it was 1987 when I saw Mojo Nixon and Skid Roper at Kirby's Bar in Moorhead, Minnesota. He was jumping all over the place playing his guitar and singing rants such as "I Hate Banks" and "I Ain't Gonna Piss in no Cup." He had so much energy, he was practically jumping off the walls on the stage as he banged on his guitar or a large empty 5 gallon drinking water container. I was awestruck. That night at Kirby's he played for me and about 100 other college student aged music lovers. The next week I drove to Winnipeg for the annual folk festival they have up there and to my chagrin, they had Mojo in the lineup and he was scheduled to play the main stage the first night. This time he was playing for aging hippies who were sitting on their blankets with their young families and enjoying acts such as Bonnie Raitte, and David Lindsley. Mojo got up there and did his thing and soon had several thousand people in the palm of his hand.
The Chorus for "I ain't gonna pis in no cup," is

I Ain't gonna Piss in no cup
Unless Nancy Reagan licks it up

Well he got to the last chorus and then started prancing around stage as Skid thumped out a rhythm on his washtub one string Bass and ranting about Nancy and Ronnie to the melody of the Chorus. Then in an impromptu moment he started a chant and had the whole audience repeating after him

Nancy Reagan Sucks the Devil's Dick

Maybe, you had to be there, because it seems kind of childish. However, seeing those middle aged families jumping up and down next to their infants, toddlers and teenagers, and chanting enthusiastically about Nancy Reagan gave me a new appreciation for liberals from the 60's generation. I was thrilled.

I am thinking about Mojo, though, because I really do hate Banks. Or at least I have a contempt for them. I hate how we live in fear of a soiled credit rating as if we all live for being in debt and beholden to the lenders of funds. My contempt for banks has gotten me in trouble.

When I was an undergrad and as I neared graduation, I suddenly was receiving in the mail all these applications for credit cards. I filled a couple out and then received them in the mail and maxed them out on beer at Kirby's and Ralphs for all my friendw with absolutely no intention of paying them back. "Oh, your credit rating," I would constantly hear. "You will never own a house." Well, I've always been stubborn. I thought it would be a good experiment, so I waited out several years of harassing phone calls and letters and relatives who chided me for my irresponsibility. What I discovered was soon all was forgotten and the Banks eventually determined that I was not a credit risk any longer and happily loned me money again without my having to pay back about $3000. 00 in credit card bills.

I never got in trouble with debt again, but I still have contempt for banks that still leads toward trouble. When I went back to graduate school I rang up new debt in student loans. Then, it took me sometime to get a job after I left the PhD program with only a Masters in tow. I have slowly been paying back credit card debt that I built up over that time and recently have been making a strong push to pay them all off so I can pay off my student loans. I had a checking Account with a bank called Twin Cities Federal (TCF). Well, in my enthusiasm to pay off my debt, and because I never balance my checkbook and prefer to keep an approximate running balance in my head, I suddenly started to get an occasional overdraft letter from TCF with a service charge for $33.00. I called TCF and explained my situation and they waived the fee. Nice. It happened three times like that with TCF waiving the fee, but I realized I was playing with fate, so I went into my local branch and asked for overdraft protection so I would not get anymore fees and I would not have to make anymore calls.

I filled out the application and TCF told me that I should be approved in a few days. Two weeks later I knew that my account was getting close to zero, because I made some purchases online for some spring gardening needs. I had money in another savings account to cover it, but I don't like to touch this money. I would have but it had been two weeks and I thought my overdraft protection application would have been approved. On a Saturday, I suddenly received four overdraft statements in the mail. I called the customer service line and they told me that They could not waive any of the fees, even after I explained what happened. On Monday Morning I went through the drive through at my local branch and deposited $500.00 to bring my account out of the negative and learned that three more overdrafts and service fees also went through. I called my local branch from work and learned that my application had been just sitting there the whole time and no one looked at it. I was told that my service fees should get waived for this oversight, but I would have to check with the checking account manager. I went in on Tuesday after work and talked to some kid and he told me "Sorry, we cannot waive the fees, none of them." I immediately closed my account. The next day I called my student loans and told them my account was closed and that electronic payments could now be taken out of a new checking account at a credit Union.

Several days later I get a new overdraft statement from TCF becaue my student loas company took money out of my closed account in addition to a payment taken out of my new checking account. Another $33.00 service charge. That's eight of them so, far. Shortly after, I get another overdarft (9) card over a backorder on some seeds ($3.00 for a seed packet, $33.00 more for a service charge from a closed account). I start getting calls on my answering machine telling me to call TCF over suspicious activity on my account and letters in my mail threatening to close my account (I already closed it you dolts).

Okay, I'm irresponsible. I recognize that. I cold have avoided all of this. TCF is not at fault. So, what? I can't stand how banks operate. They prey off of customer irresponsibility and mistakes. I ended up paying 7 service charges for a total of $231.00. That is not that much.My closed checking account is two service fees ($66.00) plus a student loan payment ($255.00) in the Red. And Guess what? I am not going to pay it. I have several years ahead of me of harassing phone calls as TCF sells my delinquent account once they realize that $321.00 is not worth the effort. I don't care. TCF loses me as a customer forever and I have to deal with some jerks on the phone. It is not that big of a deal. I don't really care. This is not about $321.00. I just hate banks.

My Cronies

2007-06-14T11:52:00.000-05:00

I think I am an example of a person that is mentally healthy. Oh, I get depressed sometimes. And, sometimes I get angry. And, sometimes, I am just plain bored (like here at work - I'd rather be home in my garden). But, I take care of myself.

I think a lot of the mental health issues that we suffer from in our country are caused by our lifestyles and environments. Most of us do not lead productive lives. Our jobs are the source of despair for a lot of us. It takes away from the time we should be spending developing relationships with people who are close to us and also working on our souls.

So, how do I do it? I have to work and my job is as spiritually meaningless as any other job out there.

1. First off, I value my time away from work highly and I don't spend it chasing mindless entertainment such as is shown on TV. I will watch an occasional sporting event (I love baseball, basketball and high levels of competition in many other sporting events), but I never schedule time around a television show.

2. I don't spend anytime on the computer, except at work. I was hooked up to the Internet at home in the past, but I found myself on endless searches for information and engaged in endless dialogue with people I have never met. I am too embarrassed to mention my time wasted playing games, nor the day my wife discovered the filthy names of the adult websites during history search on my computer. Needless to say, removing the computer from my house has been a blessing.

3. I don't own a cell phone. I don't have call waiting. I would toss away the answering machine if my wife would let me. There are times when people should not be able to get a hold of you.

4. I eat nutritious and healthy food. Some day I will do a post on my diet. I am sure you will be thrilled.

5. I have very time consuming hobbies that are spiritually rewarding and nuture that part of me that many refer to as my soul: gardening, writing, playing guitar.

6. My cronies.

My cronies are extremely important to me. I probably should not be one to write a self-help book because many of the things my cronies and I do are not considered good for building positive mental health. Actually, some of the things we do are considered harmful to it. I am involved with a group of friend whom I have known for many years. We get together several times a year to either do a hiking/camping trip or just crash at one or the others floor/couch. We refer to ourselves as The Fools which is short for Drummingfools, the official name of our little tribe of 8-12 friends depending on the time we get together.

Our trips usually consist of hiking long distances carrying drums and other percussion insturments, alcohol, camping gear, clothes and food on our backs with 3 - 7 canine companions. We usually have several nights of drunken drum jams deep in the woods and days of smoking cannibus and relaxing in natural pools and waterfalls in the many rivers along the North Shore of Lake Superior in Northern Minnesota. Give me a a weekend of such activities and I can promise you, I and my foolish brethren will all be spiritually refreshed and ready to face the work-world. A week long hike is like a vision quest and a true awakening of the senses.

That is how I stay mentally, emotionally and spiritually on top of my game. Not with prescribed anti-depressants, but just a short time of excessive drinking a few tokes of the fareye and the comradarie of my cronies is all that is needed to do the trick.

Open Thread

2007-06-14T11:47:00.000-05:00

I'm kind of busy today, so talk amongst yourselves.

Water Pistol Man

2007-06-13T10:54:00.000-05:00

Water pistol man full of ammunition,
Putting out fires on a world wide mission,
Did you ever stop to squirt the flowers in your own backyard?
--Michael Franti

I used to care. I mean I thought a lot about politics and what I should do personally to make the world a better place. I was far from perfect -- I'm American and I love my conveniences, and I rely upon fossil fuels, and I don't do enough to stop wars around the world that we support with our money and our lifestyles. I see an unjust world and I've felt wrong about it and my part in it for a long time.

I suppose that is what made me a liberal. I would listen to talk radio and get angry. So many people calling in on their cellphones while driving in their SUVs or big trucks to complain about liberals for caring about the state of the world and raising their taxes. As angry as I was, I could never match their contempt for those they called liberals. And there I was, a bleeding heart liberal who cared about people dying around the world in our name and about the environmental havoc we were wreaking on our world.

Now, we are in a war in Iraq. The Democrats are in control in congress and we were suppose to be making progress in bringing our troops home. There was a lot of hope in the air in November 2006. What we have instead is an increase in the number of troops and a further escalation of the War. What should be obvious to us is that we have no intention of leaving Iraq and letting Iraqis decide what should be done with their oil. The number one benchmark is that the Iraqi Parliament must pass the oil law allowing foreign ownership of their oil. We are doing the multinationals biddings in this war. As usual, it is all about profit and these profits put our congresspeople into their positions and promise to keep them there as long as they continue to do the bidding of the primary wealth holders of the world. So, we are not leaving Iraq anytime soon. We will have a presence there until the oil is gone. We might not call it an occupation at some point in the future, but the Iraqi people will suffer under our influence and for our lifestyles for many years to come. So, Why am I not part of the Netroots working the channels for change, naively campaigning for the democrats to defund the war, or marching on Washington all by my lonesome intent upon attaining change.

Because I no longer care. I cannot keep caring for the lives of others around the world. I only have a water pistol and I cannot put out all the fires - let alone one of them. So, now, I grow a garden and I don't own a cellphone and I'm not hooked up to cable and I drive a Toyota Echo. I know, I am still, plenty plugged into the system. I have my job to pay back debt through student loans. I still use gasoline and buy it cheap when you consider the lives lost to get that oil to America. I have way more stuff than any one person needs. But, slowly I am unplugging myself from the pecuniary economy. I am not going to rely upon experts to tell me how to feel or how to vote for different initiatives around the world. I only see a small part of the world and I know how I can make that small part a better place for me, my family and the surrounding community which remains small in comparison to the global world we think about today that has not gotten one bit smaller despite the technological innovations we have today. I can grow my garden and reduce the amount of fuel for the transportation of food around the world. I don't use chemical fertilizers or pesticides. I don't watch the news anymore and I read the papers with the eyes of a skeptic.

Some experts accuse my withdrawal from the political realms of the antiwar voices as a sign of apathy that ends up contributing to the war effort. And other experts accuse the antiwar voices as giving hope to the enemies in Iraq and endangering the lives of our soldiers. I am tired of listening to either side. I don't want to be a part of it anymore. I am going to reduce my footprint on the world and stop supporting the corporations and the financial wealth holders who profit off of the killing. I am not going to listen to the opinions of experts informing of conditions at locations on the planet that are far removed from my community. The world will be a better place when we trust that local communities around the world know how best to use their local resources for the benefit of their local community. I became interested in economics because I believed that money would explain a lot about the forces that guide policy in America. I still believe that and any advice that suggests following the money is good advice.

But Real wealth is not money. Wealth is influence and the control over resources. Wealth is synonymous with power. And we allow a few people to have power over us by giving them influence and letting the idea of money and our financial security be the prime motivator for our lives. Somehow we have to take back that power. If I can (or if you can) take back the control over the food you put into your body, I and anyone else, takes the first step toward redistributing wealth in this country. Redistributing wealth through Democratic initiatives won't solve the underlying problems in our society. Instead, we have to take back the land from the corporations and grow our own food in ways that are environmentally and ecologically sound. We can do this by taking care of a piece of land we own that is under our care. A garden is the first step.

The Garden

2007-06-12T10:21:00.000-05:00

I remember a campaign as a kid that was put out by the FDA and the nutritional requirements we were suppose to be getting. The marketing line was You Are What You Eat. As a smart-ass kid, this line was utterly meaningless to me. I was an apple, a burger, carrots? What the hell?

I used to eat everything. As a youth, I could not put on weight and I was always hungry. I graduated from high school weighing 135 lbs carried on a 6' 2" frame. I was skinny. I am still tall and lean, but carry a modest 195 lbs on this lean frame today. My eating habits were not the greatest as a youth, but I supplemented all the soda pops, ice cream and junk foods with nutritious food as well. I also ate my share of fast food.

I didn't begin growing my garden as a health kick. I just wanted to tend a little plot of earth. I started going to Farmer's markets and I took an interest in agriculture and our agricultural and food system in the US. Slowly, I started to realize that I was made up of what I put into my body and I became much more conscious of what I ate. I now grow a lot of vegetables, berries and flowers in a garden that is about 120 ft x 80 ft. I don't use chemicals and I have great success and yields from meticulous composting, weeding, soil-building and mulching. I have raised beds that I place plants close together and grow all my vining plants upwards (tomatoes, cucumbers, melons and squash). I grow clover in the paths between the beds and come July and August, my garden becomes transformed into an oasis where I go to sit amongst plants, flowers and greenery with a cold beer and the radio tuned to a Minnesota Twins baseball game or Garrison Keillor's Prairie Home Companion.

Now, I only eat food that I have some idea of where it comes from and how it has been raised or grown. I feel healthy and strong. My plan is to work at my job for as long as it takes to take my hobby of gardening and transforming it into a business as a small farm or Community Supported Agriculture. I am in the process of looking for land to start my organic farm and business around the Minneapolis/St. Paul area. I want to raise chickens, beef cattle, dairy cattle, hogs, goats, and sheep and grow every variety of vegetables you can imagine. That is my goal. I want to be a farmer. But, for now, I am happy in my garden. Soon, I will post some pictures of my garden paradise and the fruits of my labors.

Information or education

2007-06-11T13:51:00.000-05:00

Most of my friends and acquaintances are white, middle-class with post graduate degrees. They are also mostly liberals. We agree on a lot of issues and in many ways, I think my friends and associates consider me to have more radical views than they hold. I tend to think this makes me even more liberal, but often, upon reflection, I think my views are actually more conservative.

One of these areas is education. Most of my friends believe that a proper education can prevent the right-ward tilt of the population. They think if people had the right information and enough of it, they would choose to be more liberal and vote in their self-interest. All that is needed is more information. I beg to differ.

In my mind, I think more information solves nothing. We are all bombarded with information everyday from numerous sources. The right or proper information is not only unknowable, it is also not guaranteed to overwhelm other wrong or distracting information. This leaves our education system in a quandary. What is it we want to place in the heads of our little ones, so they can be informed citizens making informed choices?

I think the emphasis on informed is misplaced and we should instead seek to educate children to be morale citizens. Many will argue that morality is subjective to cultures and cannot be given foundations that we can turn to justify choices that we make. My arguments against what is called informed can be quickly turned against me by those who treat morals as subjective. Although morality has no foundations, it is not relative. Rather, we know what is the right way to live in the world and our culture is suppose to support this morality through an education system that reinforces our intuitions for love and respect for all creatures on Earth. Our education system is designed to break down these intuitions through massive doses of information that create confusion by design.

As an example, I offer my own education. My common sense, intuition, and/or morality told me that our economic system was not sustainable. I had an undergraduate degree in economics and I wanted to be an expert who could prove our economic system could not be sustained and then influence policy that would benefit all of humanity. Lofty ambitions, I know, but it felt like a calling. So, I went to graduate school to pursue a PhD in economics and enrolled in an ecological Economics PhD program at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute in Troy, NY.

What I discovered was that by pursuing more information and learning techniques and models to prove my position, the best I could do was create more ambiguity that proved nothing. By manipulating the data and changing the assumptions in a model or theory, we are able to prove anything as long as we stay within the parameters of the model. When we went to the real world or the real economy, everything changes and most economic analysis is descriptive and not predictive and even its descriptive role constrained to the parameters of the model. All I wanted to do was confirm my conviction that our economy was depleting valuable resources and polluting our atmosphere and if we kept this up, eventually there would be problems -- if we were not experiencing these problems already. However, graduate school and more information provided me with very little useful tools to tackle this problem.

The problem is the model of education. We have an intuition and we are educated to go through the education system to become an expert, so we can have an influence on policy. However, more information and knowledge often leads us to conclusions that are contrary to our beliefs we started out with. This would properly be an education if our conclusions were right. But, what if our conclusions go are wrong and by wrong I mean morally wrong? If we know that killing is wrong or we know that destroying our environment is wrong, but our models feed us ambiguity by informing us that if we do not secure th oil in the MidEast through warfare or we do not knock off a mountaintop to mine the coal inside, then our economy will suffer and millions of more people will starve. That is the science. The morality, which I argue should take precedence, tells us only that killing is wrong and harming the environment long-term cannot be justified under any circumstances.

It takes only a day or two to teach a human infant or toddler morality and it takes years of programming to undermine this morality through information.

Work

2007-06-11T11:40:00.000-05:00

Most of us have jobs. I envy the ones who don't.

Jobs fall into three categories.

Jobs we love
Jobs we hate
Jobs we tolerate

My job falls into the third category. Most of us have jobs we tolerate and eventually these jobs we start to hate for stealing our souls. Once we begin to hate them, we should quit. Actually, if you want to have a soul you HAVE to quit.

I can tolerate my job, because I can still pursue outside interests and I relieve the monotony by writing this blog. What do I do? I am a bureaucrat working for a municipality. I talk to citizens all day and I stare at a computer screen as I manipulate data. I attend meetings and give powerpoint demonstrations and hand out excel spreadsheets. Then, I return to my cubicle and take a look at the river 10 stories below and try to regain my sanity, before turning around and staring some more at my screen.

What amazes me is the amount of people out there who appear to be doing the exact same thing.

The Goal

2007-06-11T11:23:00.000-05:00

Okay, this is the last post about blogging in general for awhile.

So, far, I do not have an audience. In time I hope to have a few dedicated readers. But, that is not necessarily the goal.

When I was a musician playing in a band, I hated the business part. I could not stand the schmoozing required to get gigs. I felt like I was going around saying, "Come see us! Come see us! we need your attention." Truthfully, I just loved the feeling of playing in a band and making music. It was a thrilling experience. I enjoyed practicing as much as playing before an audience. Needless to say, this attitude did not help build an audience and all the bands I were in were great bands, but lost in obscurity. To tell you the truth, I felt contempt for the audience.

Successful bloggers get hits and traffic grows on their blogs. This means they are part of the blogosphere. I read some of these blogs out there and find some entertaining. I think to be a successful blogger you have to be entertaining, informative, provocative or have a specific focus. I suppose I could be any of these, but an even greater requirement is to post on other blogs and build an audience that will eventually come visit your blog. This is the marketing end and it is the part I detest, again because I feel like a prostitute going around and saying "look at me! Look at me! I have something important to say."

What does all of this mean? Well, I will never be a successful blogger just like I was never in a successful band. If there is ever a large audience coming here, I will detest the majority of them, not because I don't like people, but because I abhor the crowd. If you are here and have read up to this point, you are not part of the crowd. I like you.

Changed my Domain

2007-06-11T10:04:00.000-05:00

I am now located at http://thedayshift.blogspot.com

I don't know how confusing this is going to be for my one visitor - Matt, so far, but I sure hate to lose him.

Name Change

2007-06-11T08:25:00.001-05:00

After a weekend of camping with my five year old son, I gave some thought to this newfound project of mine that we call a blog. I came up with some ideas.

1. Andy B***'s Blog was not a good name for a blog. I changed it. It is now called The Dayshift. I only have access to the internet at my workplace and since I am such a dedicated and trusted employee who is productive beyond all expectations, I use some of my downtime to read and write on the internet. This is done to relieve the monotony of the workday.

2. I also gave thought over the purpose of my blog. Should it be a diary that I use to stoke the creative juices and pass the time at work. Or should I strive to attract as many visitors as possible, or some combination of the above. I am still mulling this over. I guess this is a follow up of my previous post on writing and vanity. Writing is a solitary activity. All writers aspire to have readers, but most writers would write whether or not there was an audience or not. I read somewhere once, perhaps in the New York Times about a poll that gave a high percentage for the number of individuals who believed that a novel or story was incubating somewhere inside of them - upwards of 80% or so. I found this discouraging, but this was before the days of blogs and the proliferation of individuals writing on the internet confirms this poll. I used to believe that the main purpose of writing was to achieve immortality thorough the preservation of our thoughts through time. This is another symptom of vanity in my opinion. I think I will just let this blog be what it is - a temporary relief from the boredom of a monotonous day at work.

And hello to my one visitor so far - Matt.