Alone in the Dark
Jan 25th
There is no comparing the satisfaction of munching Lifesavers Wintogreen mints, and watching the little green sparks jump in your friends mouth. Doing it in a cave brings the experience to a new level, since the green flints are the brightest (and only) thing in sight.
But then, being in a cave, swallowed by the complete absence of light, alters most any experience. Four of us took a trip to the unincorporated village of Burksville this weekend, out somewhere in God’s country (south of Waterloo) to Illinois Caverns.
To get started, we carefully descended the steep slippery stairs, heading towards the warm, dark air. In less than a minute, you’re in a cave – a veritable cave, not some tourist trap with lights, concrete and a gift shop. The air is so heavy with moisture that you can see it floating in the air, like a fine mist.
Most of the going is fairly easy; alot of walking and treading on slick stones, some wading, and the occasional climb. The hardest part is resisting the temptation to reach out and grab a bat- the little critters are adorable, like a pet mouse with wings and a snout. I managed not to grab one, but I could easily observe it from about half a foot away. We also saw a few tiny crustaceans squirming around on a rock- they may have been an endangered species that inhabits only the caves around southern Illinois (according to Wikipedia), or they might have been totally unremarkable- I prefer to think the former is true.
What was most enjoyable for me was the moment when the four of us turned off our flashlights, and listened to the sound of another world. The darkness is tangible- when you can’t see anything at all, and there’s no wind or perceivable temperature, darkness becomes the way to define your surroundings. Even though I knew there were four of us, I felt totally alone. What’s more, not being able to see anything immediately heightens your awareness of the noises of the cave- running water. It’s as if you turn instantly into a bat- unable to see, but with sharp ears and a sense of peacefulness within the cave.
Some people are afraid of this sensation- the absence of human life, the crushing environment of being underground in an alien world. All I can say is that I found it very tranquil- the thought occurred to me that my distant ancestors, and my future progeny would see nearly the same cave as I have, even thousands of years into the future. Even the tiniest passages that dotted the walkable parts of the cavern took millennia to open up, and the walkable portions themselves were far older than those little passages.
Being in the cave also gives you a taste of the inexorable force behind its creation- water. Though the rocks might not know it, that water was effin’ cold, and during the last part of our trek, I was in up to my waist (which meant that April was in above her belly button).
It’s a lesson in humility, one that I think might never get old.
Up and Atom
Jan 12th
I can’t remember right now what got me interested in atomic weapons in the Second World War; most likely, Wikipedia led me to it by degrees. It got me reading the discourse about the usage of the atomic bombs in Japan- a debate that can have no conclusive outcome, but still attracts alot of attention and thought.
The two opposing theories I learned about years before in school were fairly
Hiroshima before the bombing.
Hiroshima after the bombing.
simple. From the pro-atomic perspective, it was necessary to end the war. A ground invasion of Japan would have, by some estimates, cost millions of lives, both Japanese and American (this requires you to set aside any scepticism about how accurate such projections were). Certainly, the Japanese Empire showed no interest in surrender, in spite of their worsening situation, so the U.S. had no choice but to make use of a weapon that would deal immense physical and psychological damage. This would, ultimately, result in fewer lives lost in comparison to an invasion. So goes the pro-atomic reasoning.
In the opposing corner, the anti-atomic faction insists that under no circumstances was it necessary or prudent to use the atomic bomb. They maintain that the total annihilation of a city, with all its men, women, and children, is a war crime, and that Japan would have surrendered without the use of the Bomb.
Both of these arguments have a healthy mix of ethical considerations and some practical, albeit speculative elements. I don’t have any desire to debate the morality of the choice, since morality is too easy to judge 60 years removed, and even then, human moral standards are like snowflakes- no two are alike.
One thing in favor of the anti-atomic viewpoint is that history has since given them ample opportunity to find fault with the outcome of the war. The argument goes that had the U.S. not dropped the Bomb, there never have been a nuclear arms race that would bring us to the brink of cataclysm on several occasions. An interesting observation, but I’d like to jump in a suggest the opposite- that if the Bomb hadn’t been dropped twice by the U.S. in 1945, it would have inevitably been used by us or someone else, with potentially more destructive results. To put it another way, I suggest that Hiroshima and Nagasaki taught humanity a lesson, one that has not yet been forgotten, and the destruction of two cities and their inhabitants has kept us from an even worse fate.
Like the other arguments I’ve heard, it’s just silly speculation, but it gives me something to think about while my toes freeze in the middle of winter.
Smell you later, 2009
Dec 31st
What a lousy year! My basement was flooded more often than not, state funding was cut for my employer, and there were two mediocre Ubuntu releases.
Overall though, the decade has been successful- I finished school, met April, and got a motorcycle. What dramas and adventures will unfurl in 2010? I’ll let you know when the hangover from New Year’s wears off…
Das Auto
Dec 29th
It’s been almost 4 months since April and I sold both of our cars and bought one car. When I reveal that we have one car in conversation, most people ask how we do it. It’s not a mystery, but when I explain how we do it, the explanation is dismissed as impractical. I’ll present it here- try not to label it impractical without reading the whole thing.
It wasn’t so long ago that 1 car per family was sufficient, well within memory of most folks over 60. How did people survive such a barbaric arrangement?
The explanation remains the same for those people as it does for me; it’s the structure of communities that has changed, as well as people who compose a community. Why can’t a typical family get by on one car? The answer is stretched out all around us- everything is too far away.
Urban sprawl is the name given to the concept of everything being too far away. By too far away, I mean not being able to easily walk,bicycle, or ride mass transit to your destination. All of these modes of transportation are community-centric. If you can’t fulfill your basic needs (like groceries, getting to work, buying beer) through one of the above methods of transportation, you’re a victim of urban sprawl.
At this point in my explanation, people are bursting at the seams to tell me that they can’t get a job in their own community, so they have to make a 45 minute commute (alone of course- carpooling is too much work!). This argument is bullshit for two reasons:
1. There are probably jobs available in your community; if not, start your own business.
2. If the first answer doesn’t satisfy you, move to the community where the job you want is.
Of course, there are a million reasons why they shouldn’t move to another community:
I just have to live in (place) because of its good (noun)!
And that, my friends, is why one car per family doesn’t work for a typical family. Not because it can’t be done (it most certainly can!), but because people don’t want to do it. This is the case for almost every problem in human history 
Now that you’ve heard the whole spiel, I’ll take a moment to say that having two cars isn’t a crime. All I’m saying is that the expectations that necessitate one car per person are flimsy, and if people thought about it, they may just decide that one car per family could work for them.
As for Ape and I, owning one car really only balances out our retired neighbours, who own 3 cars (for 2 retired people). Ugh…
Walkin
Dec 7th
I’ve been walkin to work alot lately, which, it turns out, is a fantastic way to get to work. You get exercise, spend $0 on your commute, and get to smirk at people stuck in traffic along the way.
The concept of walking as a mode of transportation seems to have gone the way of the dodo in my town. When I tell people I walk to to work, they assume it’s because I can’t afford a car, or I have a DUI. I get perplexed looks when I tell people I walked *gasp* a whole mile to get a sandwich for lunch, or that I walked to the grocery store last night and saw six feral cats and a lot of litter on the way (litter as in garbage).
At what point did people stop thinking of their legs as a real mode of transportation, instead of just a way to get in and out of buildings? Recreational walking is probably more popular than ever- Ape and I take walks at night to get out of the house, seniors will drive 20 miles to walk around a shopping mall, and then there’s the go-nowhere treadmill.
I don’t see very many other walkers, and those that I do see have the look of determination that only comes with walking for exercise. It seems strange to me, living in the middle of a very safe town as I do, that so few people walk. I’d expect as much from the suburbanites, who frankly have nowhere to walk to, but urban dwellers should seize their opportunity.
Maybe I can blame this on the perception of time versus value – it’s understandable that people may not be able to fit a 20 minute walk to work on their crowded daily agenda. Why not make the 5 minute commute instead? It’s a fair question, but if folks really stopped and thought about the value of their time, the stress of driving, and the relaxation and clarity that a walk affords, there probably wouldn’t be as many cars stuck in traffic for me to smirk at.
And if those people really don’t want to walk, there’s always the bicycle.
Germania
Nov 30th
It occurs to me that I never exploited the opportunity to talk about my trip to Germany this past summer. Like Tacitus before me, Germany and its inhabitants made quite an impression on me.
To recount the trip chronologically would be to discount the really amazing experiences; as humans we have no choice but to experience life chronologically, but our minds recollect the highs and lows of an experience, and tend to cut out the tedious passage of time. In that spirit, I’ll try to cut out the tedious parts.
The lasting impression I have of that trip is the sense of belonging. Totally contrary to the fact that my family left Germany over a hundred years ago, and little mention is made of it among my family, I felt as if I had grown up there, and I was as much a part of Germany as it was of me.
Of course, there are the more ephemeral day to day experiences that I can only now recall through photos. Even if it’s only a snapshot of Charlemagne’s chapel, all of my senses remember the moment I took this picture.
The glittering mosaic inside, the musty air, my fingers tracing the 1300 year old stones, worn smooth by 13 centuries of curious visitors just like me. It’s not just the place that looms large; it’s the feeling of closeness to an ancient European monarch whose accomplishments shaped the modern world in ways I never thought possible.
Maybe that’s why I feel a closeness with Germany- 5 years of studying German language and literature grants me a more profound understanding of Germany than my own country. My studies began with Germania, a text by the Roman historian Tacitus (mentioned above). His goal was to understand the Germanic tribes, while his contemporary Romans wanted to conquer them. Both Tacitus and Roman generals found the Germans to be worthy enemies, and to this day the score still stands Germanic Tribes 1, Roman Empire 0.
Next, the Oaths of Strasbourg, a document from 842 whose historical importance can’t be overstated. The oaths taken were between the grandsons of Charlemagne, specifically two jerkwads who happened to rule what is modern day France and Germany respectively. They agreed that they should kick the crap out of Lothair, who ruled the territory between France and Germany, now called Alsace-Lorraine. Brotherly feuds aside, the Oaths are the earliest written example of three distinct European languages: Early French, Early German, and Latin. The two conspiratorial brothers vowed in each other’s language to protect one another and gang up on Lothair using exactly the same vow, which had the result of three different languages presented alongside one another for future linguists to drool over.
Fast forward to the Middle Ages, a period of great literary development, despite the undeserved moniker of the ‘Dark Ages’ (their age being no less dark than our own). German folk tales and cautionary stories are at once witty and gruesome, my favorite example being Till Eulenspiegel, noted for farting, stealing shoes, and skinning dogs alive to trade their fur to the blind owner of an inn. Of course, he always got his just desserts, usually in the form of some public humiliation.
A couple hundred years later, the Reformation happened. Reformationist literature is extremely interesting, not only for its strong arguments against the Catholic church, but particularly for being wildly anti-semitic (looking at you, Martin Luther).
Then, the nationalist period began to pervade the literature of the 18th and 19th centuries. A little known fact about Germany is that it didn’t officially become a country until 1871, almost 100 years after the American colonies declared their independence from Great Britain. Up until that time, it was a loose coalition of kingdoms, fiefdoms, and other sorts of doms. Thus, there was a pervasive feeling of inferiority; neighbouring lands like France, England, Spain, and even Russia had been unified for hundreds of years; Germany was a day late and a dollar short. Unfortunately, this led to a super-charged nationalism that would start two World Wars and drastically alter the course of human civilisation.
The literature of 20th century Germany is immensely depressing. It reanimates the suffering and grief of those who lived and died during both World Wars, and the uncertainty between them, with chilling clarity. I think anyone who reads and comprehends the stories of this time would be a lifelong pacifist. In many ways, reading from this time period is like a hallucinogenic drug- a little is safe, and can conjure up thoughts and emotions beyond your own experience. Too much, however, can be poison and alter your reality permanently. A favorite of mine is Der Gute Mensch von Sezuan, by Bertolt Brecht.
Covering 13 centuries of German literature is only a beginning to understanding Germany- it took me five years, and I’ve only dipped my toe in. If you’d like to learn more about German Lit, consult your local librarian!
The Black Friday Extra
Nov 29th
Of the many fruits of capitalism, the sweetest might be Black Friday. I wasn’t sure what to expect from this year’s festivities: amidst the perfect storm of a weakened dollar, high unemployment, and most importantly, the lack of a really killer toy, I didn’t have high expectations. This fear was confirmed by seeing a single lonely shopper camped out in front of Best Buy on Thanksgiving Day. Still, April was at the door of Kohl’s at 3am among a throng of shoppers, which makes me glad that the day wasn’t a total wash.
Even I couldn’t resist the thrill of spending on Black Friday- I bought some magnets from Radio Shack, and some industrial-strength Velcro from Home Depot. With that disclosure, I’ll add that greed is not my sin.
This is merely the sale-studded beginning to the month-long orgy that climaxes in Christmas. For my own part, it marks the beginning of a month-long binge, though with different set of indulgences: sugar and booze, which would likely be considered the sin of gluttony.
It’s remarkably similar to the Saturnalia of yesteryear; a month of parties and liquor-fueled cheer, from the lowliest bourbon ball to the bottle of Absinthe waiting under the tree. It’s a much more tangible problem than the vague notion of ‘holiday stress’ which seems to mainly afflict the perpetually stressed, and I have to wonder how my liver will handle it this year.
Frankly, I think that sugar is greater enemy. My wiry physique usually keeps me from getting too drunk, simply because it only takes a few drinks to make my head feel lighter. With sugar, however, my appetite outstrips my self-control. The variety of textures and tastes on display at the dessert table usually leads me to some quick, ill-conceived rationalizations about the rarity of getting to eat some favorite treats, as well as the enticing prospect of finding new favorites.
Thus, I slowly and carefully stuff myself with sweet treats. Stomach pain usually follows pretty quickly, accompanied by self-loathing.
This perennial routine is very familiar to me, but I still haven’t devised how to circumvent it, or at least minimize the negative side-effects. Until I figure it out or get Diabetes, I’ll probably remain a glutton.
The Poetry of Google Voice
Oct 28th
This is the result of a voicemail transcribed by Google Voice. Try not to get too freaked out by its digital prose:
Wanted to email us at the Global voice thing that’s weird. Anyway, she says houses andlet’s see. It’s all but the fire department is going to come over after I get off work andso I might be a little bit late picking you up if you can end up being a ride, because I’mgonna happen fast and see if you have a common monoxide bleak. I was just time. Ican’t ever breathe exhausted because I’m outta shape, and I a bad things. I’m hopingthat’s the truth. But anyway, hope you having a good day.
Review: Uglies and Pretties
Oct 20th
One of my favorite memories snuck into the present this weekend- the memory of being so absorbed in a book that I barely notice outside stimuli. I read the 2nd book in the Scott Westerfeld Uglies series (which is in fact titled Pretties). Westerfeld panders to all my literary indulgences: post-apacolyptic visions, the inhumanity of humans in danger, speedy plot and character development, and a tender (but not overbearing) romantic plot filled with betrayal. Most of all, reflection on what brought about the collapse of civilization as we know it.
The latter is a tricky thing- it can only be hinted at, never fully grasped in order to be satisfying. Too much science fiction ends up reading like a history book- a long string of events leading to an inevitable end. I lust for mystery, not history – the less details, the better. That said, it still has to be plausible; plausible enough for me to think about how my personal actions would contribute to the downfall. Uglies exceeds my expectations on almost every mark, and was so satisfying that I regretted having finished it so quickly. Then I bought the 2nd book, Pretties, and finished in on a single sunny Monday, mostly while lying in the grass on the University of Illinois quad. So much for making it last longer.
Getting ahold of that first book was mostly serendipitous- April’s taking a master’s course in Young Adult literature, and I just picked it up one night on a whim. Just like that, my faith in modern science fiction began to return.
There are only two books left in the series, and I hope it takes me longer to finish them.