Wednesday, November 30, 2016

Here we go redux

It started with this tweet:

Some schlub writer tweeted at an eccentric tech millionaire and it worked.

Areas of West Virginia like McDowell County (featured in this article: ) were the vanguard of what came to be known as the F.U. Environmentalism movement. Crowdfunding for crowds.

The conversation, according to rumor, went essentially like this:

"Huh, but that's not close to the most efficient place a project like that could be situated."

"Are you going to profit from it? Because by my estimate, you're going to profit from it almost immediately and continue to do so for years to come. And you'd disrupt major energy producers. And save small towns all across the United States."

"I don't like the United States."

"Actually you do. But, even if you didn't like the United States, this is the fastest way to advance your company's mission statement."

At the end of 

Saturday, November 26, 2016

Two Very Dark Years (Dos años oscuros)

"I'll go to bed and everything will be better in the morning." --Me November 8th.

Me at 4:30am, November 9, 2016: 
. . . 

I mean, and I say this lightly: Jesus fucking christ, you people. How can approximately 62,418,792 people think it is okay for the people who must represent us internationally to be so blindly privileged that racism, sexism, bigotry, and a general character trait set based off the "Player" principle of "Negging"  is acceptable? How?

I want to move to another country.

I want to stay and fight.

I want to do so many things that even if I just typed them would get me blacklisted and sheesh, who knows what else, but and (or) the weird thing is that the current president elect has threatened worse toward his opponent, who is actually the most supremely capable person ever to apply for the position of POTUS. FFS Clinton has BEEN IN THE WHITE HOUSE BEFORE. She has SEEN WHAT IT DOES TO A PERSON AND STILL WANTS TO DO IT. It is ridiculous that we didn't hand this to her in a landslide. 

. . . There are far too many echo chambers and there are far too many barriers to voting in this country, as it stands, and there are FAR FAR FUCKING TOO FEW Regulations on the way this country runs its elections. It is to a point where foreign countries, opposed to negotiations with the current POTUS have admitted to influencing this election cycle in favor of the president elect.


. . . There is always another narrative that can be followed. "Fight or flight response" is outdated. There is another way.

Violence, regardless of its cathartic flood, is not the solution. It . . . I don't know what it is, but I wouldn't want it inflicted on me, so I won't inflict it on others.

What I do want is someone to tell me when I'm wrong and to reach me, convince me my actions are bad, when my actions are bad. I want people to call me out on my misbehavior, on my micro-aggressions. I want to hear when I'm damaging society, and more importantly I want that put to me in such a way that I change my behavior for the better. And so I will show people when they are wrong, and I will suggest ways they can better themselves.


Saturday, November 12, 2016

2017 part 1

After the president elect approved the Middle Eastern Registration Act, I did what every red blooded, CIS white male Should do. I registered as a muslim. Myself and, literally, twenty other friends showed up two hours early and stood in the sweltering heat at the elementary school. We tried to joke, but the oppression stifled it. Instead we looked around us. We didn't understand what it really meant. We were, mostly, white citizens of the United (haha) States of America. We were raised here. We had never been oppressed or, again for the most part, had never been shot at.

My wife and I stepped into the air conditioning and I got goosebumps. Somewhere around a corner, a woman wailed. Someone, loud, midwestern accent shouted: Ma'am, please calm down or I'm going to have to arrest you.

I laughed. I had to laugh: I didn't know what else to do. I stood in line and shuffled forward with everyone else --all colors of people, none of them talking, many staring at their mobile. Many with tight jaws in the beige halls. Around the corner, carefully stapled to a tack board was a picture of a class. The wailing escalated, it was coming from the gym The class had thirty students, all colors of smiling children and a handsome black teacher. I teared up, then. Swallowed it and checked my phone, too. Two fat, white police officers wrestled a woman in a hijab through the doors --she writhed like a cat in a lake and

and here we go. Are you ready? (I wasn't)

One of the police officers tried to wrap her in a headlock and as he did her niqāb slid up and as she tried to push out of the choke hold, the niqāb slid to the side and she sank her teeth into the cop, who yelped and let go, pushed her away; the woman sprawled on the floor with the cop jumping toward her, a boot heel raised aimed and I kicked his raised foot, stomped through the air, toes out and pushed him and shouted, "Serve and protect man! Serve and protect!" My voice cracked and I pissed myself and fell convulsing to the floor with my spine on fire. Tasered. Twitching I curled fetal and covered up, ribs and neck. I shouted "serve and protect!" --it came out as drool. Someone kicked me square and hard on the tailbone and I started choking on laughter, on spit.

I stuttered, my teeth chattered; I grit them. "Shit on you." I snarled and that is the last thing I remember.

Thursday, November 3, 2016

He asked, "So then, shall we walk?"

Getting through a fear of success means breaking everything down into love.

Love is the single indivisible thing that we as a species have, and so, once the love is found in something, that is the size of it.

Take a step? Do it out of love. Figure out what the love in something is, and that is the core from which to start.

Lots of things get dressed up as something other than love, but eventually, and the process of getting down to the necessary depth may be brutal, but somewhere in there is some kernel, some iota, of love through which to change the world.

Figure out what you love about something, then figure out how to act on that love, and go from there.

A series of truths

I am terrified of success. Long term success, short term success. They both scare me equally.

I have buried this fear, but like lead or radioactive waste it is poisoning my groundwater.
I think this may be a collective unconscious issue my species has. We are obsessed with poisoning our groundwater and ignoring that fact.

The states of Michigan and North Dakota, Louisana, and probably a majority of the others, we have buried poison in containers, expecting them not to leak out.

I would like, regardless of my fears, to exhume those buried monsters and sacrifice them on the altar of the future, for the betterment of my species.

* * *

In November, in south-east Michigan in 2016, the high temperature during the day was 67° Fahrenheit. The leaves were mostly yellow or brown and many were fallen, but many more were on the trees. There were Ladybugs everywhere. There would be none in spring and something would wake starving, then starve.

Sunset was 17:21. The crowds, the families with young children began to lope home like a parade of November bears; Like so many migrating geese and as they left we sidled into the park on our thick and quiet electric motorcycles.

Friday, October 7, 2016


The next major societal challenge will be knowing who knows what and communicating (or not) that information clearly.

The first steps are learning what and to who we share information.