Mecano, "Hijo de la Luna"
So, we rise from the rubble...
Tuesday, October 15, 2024
"A Look to the Heavens"
"These cosmic clouds have blossomed 1,300 light-years away, in the fertile starfields of the constellation Cepheus. Called the Iris Nebula, NGC 7023 is not the only nebula to evoke the imagery of flowers. Still, this deep telescopic image shows off the Iris Nebula's range of colors and symmetries, embedded in surrounding fields of interstellar dust.
Within the Iris itself, dusty nebular material surrounds a hot, young star. The dominant color of the brighter reflection nebula is blue, characteristic of dust grains reflecting starlight. Central filaments of the reflection nebula glow with a faint reddish photoluminesence as some dust grains effectively convert the star's invisible ultraviolet radiation to visible red light. Infrared observations indicate that this nebula contains complex carbon molecules known as PAHs. The dusty blue petals of the Iris Nebula span about six light-years."
Chet Raymo, “Very, Very, Very, Very, Very...”
“Very, Very, Very, Very, Very...”
by Chet Raymo
"In a short story that was published posthumously in the New Yorker, the inestimable Primo Levi meditated on the limits of language. The story was called “The Tranquil Star.” He writes "The star was very big and very hot, and its weight was enormous," and realizes immediately that the adjectives have failed him: “For a discussion of stars our language is inadequate and seems laughable, as if someone were trying to plow with a feather. It's a language that was born with us, suitable for describing objects more or less as large and long-lasting as we are; it has our dimensions, it's human. It doesn't go beyond what our senses tell us.
Until fairly recently in human history, there was nothing smaller than a scabies mite, writes Levi, and therefore no adjective to describe it. Nothing bigger than the sea or sky. Nothing hotter than fire. We can add modifiers: very big, very small, very hot. Or use adjectives of dubious superlativeness: enormous, colossal, extraordinary. But, really, these feeble stretchings of language don't take us very far in grasping the very, very, very extraordinarily diminutive or spectacularly colossal dimensions of atomic matter or cosmic space and time. We can overcome the limitations of language, Levi say, "only with a violent effort of the imagination."
I spent more than forty years trying to find ways to violently stretch the imaginations of my students (and myself) to accommodate the dimensions of the universe revealed by science. I would project onto a huge screen a photograph of a firestorm on the Sun, then superimpose a scale-sized Earth, which fit comfortably inside a loop of solar fire. I would take the class into the College Quad here near Boston, where I had set up a basketball to represent the Sun, then gathered 100 feet away with a pinhead Earth; we walked together with our pin in the great annual journey of the Earth, and looked through a telescope at the marble-sized Jupiter than I had previously installed at the other end of the long Quad (the next closest star system would have been a couple of basketballs in Hawaii). We walked geologic timelines that took us from one end of the campus to the other.
In one of my Globe essays I used this analogy: “Imagine the human DNA as a strand of sewing thread. On this scale, the DNA in the 23 pairs of chromosomes in a typical human cell would be about 150 miles long, with about 600 nucleotide pairs per inch. That is, the DNA in a single cell is equivalent to 1000 spools of sewing thread, representing two copies of the genetic code. Take all that thread - the 1000 spools worth - and crumple it into 46 wads (the chromosomes). Stuff the wads into a shoe box (the cell nucleus) along with - oh, say enough chicken soup to fill the box. Toss the shoe box into a steamer trunk (the cell), and fill the rest of the trunk with more soup. Take the steamer trunk with its contents and shrink it down to an invisibly small object, smaller than the point of a pin. Multiply that tiny object by a trillion and you have the trillion cells of the human body, each with its full complement of DNA.”
Or this description from 'Waking Zero': “The track of the Prime Meridian across England from Peace Haven in the south to the mouth of the River Humber in the north is nearly 200 miles. If that distance is taken to represent the 13.7 billion year history of the universe, as we understand it today, then all of recorded human history is less than a single step. The entire story I have told in this book, from the Alexandrian astronomers and geographers to the present-day astronomers who launch telescopes into space, would fit neatly into a single footprint. If the 200 miles of the meridian track is taken to represent the distance to the most distant objects we observe with our telescopes, then a couple of steps would take us across the Milky Way Galaxy. A mote of dust from my shoe is large enough to contain not only our own solar system but many neighboring stars.”
But as hard as one tries, the scale of these things escape us. If one could truly comprehend what we are seeing when we look, say, at the Hubble Ultra Deep Field Photo above, which I have done my best to convey to myself and others in a dozen ways, it would surely shake to the core some of our most cherished beliefs. Just as our language is contrived on a human scale, so too are our gods.”
"I'm Sure..."
"I'm sure the universe is full of intelligent life.
It's just been too intelligent to come here."
"Two possibilities exist: Either we are alone in the
Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying."
- Arthur C. Clarke
"Once Upon a Time, The End"
"Once Upon a Time, The End"
by Martin Zamyatin
"Those that can make you believe absurdities
can make you commit atrocities."
- Voltaire
"The small group of devoted followers gathered around Chicago housewife Dorothy Martin sat in stunned silence as the clock on her suburban living room wall struck midnight on the twentieth of December, 1954…and nothing happened. Many had left jobs and spouses and given away all their money and possessions in order to await the arrival of alien beings from the planet Clarion, who Martin had assured them would descend at that appointed hour, carrying the faithful few off in their flying saucers just before huge floods engulfed the planet Earth. Finally, four hours after their scheduled departure time, Martin broke her silence.
As the group readjusted their bras, belts, and zippers - having been instructed to discard any metal objects which might interfere with the aliens’ telepathic radio transmissions - their tearful host revealed the reason why their intergalactic rescuers had failed to appear: Apparently it had all been only an elaborate test of faith, and the group’s advanced state of enlightenment had saved the entire planet from a watery destruction!
Surprisingly, only one or two of Martin’s followers were unconvinced by this perfectly rational explanation. Among them, however, was social psychologist Leon Festinger, who had secretly infiltrated the group. Festinger would later write about Martin - using the pseudonym of Marian Keech - in his groundbreaking 1958 book, "When Prophecy Fails." (Not surprisingly, Festinger is credited with coining the psychological term ‘cognitive dissonance.’)
Following publication of Festinger’s book, the group predictably collapsed under the weight of public ridicule. Martin fled to Peru to warn the clueless natives about the imminent re-emergence of Atlantis, before later resurfacing in Arizona, where she joined crackpot L. Ron Hubbard’s nascent pseudoscientific movement, Scientology.
It seems that for as long as people have inhabited the world, they have anticipated its imminent demise. (In fact, the oldest known apocalyptic prediction is depicted on Assyrian tablets from 2800 BC.) In what may be the earliest example in European folklore, a Frankish villager wandered off into the forest in 591, only to be accosted by a swarm of ravenous flies. Overwhelmed, the poor fellow completely lost his mind and returned to his village clothed in animal pelts, claiming he was Jesus Christ, sent to gather his flock before the coming Rapture. (Perhaps resenting the competition, a local bishop hired a gang of thugs to capture the Lord of the Flies, who they rapturously hacked into little bits.)
The failure of one apocalyptic prophecy not only failed to deter its devoted followers but in fact spawned several entirely new religions. When the world failed to end as predicted in the ‘Great Disappointment’ of 1843-44, Massachusetts preacher William Miller’s tens of thousands of followers splintered off to found the Seventh Day Adventists, as well as the obnoxious doorknockers known as Jehovah’s Witnesses. When the next fateful year of 1874 passed without the desired fireworks, the latter’s charismatic founder, Charles Taze Russell, explained that Jesus had indeed returned, but was invisible to all except the truly devout. (Predictably, few dared admit to being lacking in the requisite level of faith.)
The founder of Mormonism, Joseph Smith, had declared way back in 1832 that 1890 would be the year of Jesus’s long awaited return engagement. (Later jailed for fraud, Smith somehow failed to predict his own deliverance by an angry mob at age 39.) Russell revised the fateful year to 1881…then 1914…and finally, 1918. (The latter dates spanned World War I and the Spanish Flu epidemic, events that while apocalyptic for many, fell short of being world ending.)
Our own time has seen the horrors of the Peoples Temple - in which 914 adults and children committed suicide in the jungles of Guyana in 1978; the Branch Davidians, an offshoot of the Seventh Day Adventists - 75 of whom died in the FBI standoff at Waco in 1993; Aum Shinri Kyo - whose poison gas attacks on the Tokyo subway in 1994-95 left 19 innocent people dead; and - neither least nor unfortunately, last - Heaven’s Gate, 39 of whose members committed suicide in 1996, fully expecting (like Dorothy Martin) their spirits to be carried away by aliens hiding in the wake of an approaching comet.
It was probably no coincidence that all of these cults were acting in anticipation of an impending Bible-inspired Day ofJudgement. One is tempted to blame these kinds of incidents on the delusions of a small minority of misguided religious fanatics, except that millions of people alive today are expecting an imminent Biblical apocalypse. In a 2012 global poll, fully one out of 7 people said they thought the world would end during their lifetime - and rather ominously, Americans topped the list of doomsayers at 22%. Since their government has the means to fulfill their death wish many times over, one can only hope their gloomy prediction won’t one day become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Just call it a bedtime story for humanity."
The Poet: John Jefferson, “Wounded But Not Slain”
“Wounded But Not Slain”
“I am wounded but I am not slain.
I’m bruised and faint they say…
I shall lay me down and bleed a while,
then I shall rise and fight again.
Just let me lie and bleed awhile;
I’ll not be long this way.
My Spirit’s low and my eyes flow.
My heart is sad and sore;
But when my pen’ent tears are gone,
I’ll stand and fight some more.
I’ll bind these wounds; I’ll dry these tears;
I’ll close this bleeding vein;
I’ll not lie here and weep and die:
I’ll rise and fight again.
‘Twas yesterday I bowed so low,
Was weak from tears and pain;
Today I’m strong; my fears are gone;
Today I fight again.”
- John Jefferson
o
“You cannot kill me here. Bring your soldiers, your death, your disease, your collapsed economy because it doesn’t matter, I have nothing left to lose and you cannot kill me here. Bring the tears of orphans and the wails of a mother’s loss, bring your God damn air force and Jesus on a cross, bring your hate and bitterness and long working hours, bring your empty wallets and love long since gone but you cannot kill me here. Bring your sneers, your snide remarks and friendships never felt, your letters never sent, your kisses never kissed, cigarettes smoked to the bone and cancer killing fears but you cannot kill me here. For I may fall and I may fail but I will stand again each time and you will find no satisfaction. Because you cannot kill me here.”
- Iain S. Thomas
o
“So, how do you beat the odds when it’s one against a billion? You’re just outnumbered. You stand strong, keep pushing yourself against all rational limits, and never give up. But the truth of the matter is despite how hard you try and fight to stay in control, when it’s all said and done, sometimes you’re just outnumbered.”
- "Meredith", "Gray's Anatomy"
"That's When..."
"It does not count if you believe in yourself when it's easy to believe in yourself. It counts when it's hard to believe in yourself, when it looks like the world's going to end and you've still got a long way to go. That's when it counts."
- Iain Thomas
o
Don Williams, "I Believe In You"
"Middle East Geopolitics, 10/15/24"
Dialogue Works, 10/15/24
"Col. Larry Wilkerson: Israel Crumbles – Next Up:
Total Defeat by Iran & Hezbollah?"
Comments here:
o
Judge Napolitano - Judging Freedom, 10/15/24
"Atrocity Inc: How Israel Sells The Destruction Of Gaza"
Comments here:
o
Scott Ritter, 10/15/24
"Iran’s New Secret Weapon Sends Shock Waves In Israel;
Fear Grips US and Arab Nations!"
Comments here:
"The Most Dangerous Man to Any Government"
"The Most Dangerous Man to Any Government"
by Brian Maher
“The most dangerous man to any government,” argued Henry Louis Mencken, “is the man who is able to think things out… without regard to the prevailing superstitions and taboos.” “Almost inevitably,” continued Baltimore’s sage…“He comes to the conclusion that the government he lives under is dishonest, insane, intolerable… Every decent man is ashamed of the government he lives under.”
It appears these United States are rolling out increasing numbers of dangerous and decent men. That is, of men able to think things out, without regard to the prevailing superstitions and taboos… Men who have come to the conclusion that the government they live under is dishonest, insane, intolerable… men ashamed of the government they live under.
They are not ashamed of their country, mind you - though some may be. They are merely ashamed of the government that crowns it. For instance:
They are ashamed of the government that wrecked their lives and livelihoods and jailed them in over a manageable virus.
They are ashamed of the government that would mandate them to take aboard an experimental vaccine without adequate testing - a vaccine that has proven destructive to many - and fatal to some.
They are ashamed of the government that spawned a horrific inflation and branded it “transitory.”
They are ashamed of the government that cynically labels a $700 billion spending bill the “Inflation Reduction Act.”
They are ashamed of the government that trumpets social values often alien to their own.
They are ashamed of the government that censors them and tapes their mouths shut when they dissent.
They are ashamed of the government that tells them their national borders are “secure,” while millions jump them illegally.
They are ashamed of the government that elevates foreign and corporate interests above their own.
Here we name but some sources of ashamement. Many others exist - be assured. Are these torts accurate in every detail? Perhaps not always and in every case.
A man convinced of government treachery anywhere will tend to see it everywhere. Yet the fact is: Millions of Americans believe they are being bossed and gooned by an overbearing, abusive and rampaging government. They further believe they are languishing at the base of the economic pyramid… while the pyramid’s tip lives grandly - nearly royally - at their expense. And they are hot to change it.
The “people” give the orders in democracy, say the civics books. Yet millions and millions of Americans have come to believe that unelected and unaccountable judges, bureaucrats, pettifoggers, understrappers and jacks-in-office do the primary bossing. Thus they are prepared to heave their civics book into the hellbox.
“This is a representative republic,” some may shout, “not a democracy. We elect officials to whom we entrust these decisions. If we disagree with them, we get to vote the bums out next time. That’s how it works.” Just so. Yet when one bum goes out, another generally comes in. Not always - not always - but often enough.
And if a good man somehow makes it in? He must acquire an extravagant taste for boot polish. He must go along… else he will not get along. He will find himself in a sort of political no-man’s land, obscure and futureless. In most instances he succumbs.
Meantime, elites sob about this or that threat to “our democracy.” Yet deeper examination reveals their commitment to democracy is highly… conditional. They do not trust “the people” to do the “right thing.” The Bible-thumpers will ban abortion if you let them vote on it, say the pro-choicers. The isolationists will pull up the overseas stakes, cry the American exceptionalists… and withdraw from the world.
The gold bugs and the cryptocurrency kooks will topple the monetary system, lament our monetary mandarins. Anti-democratic hellcats will fan misinformation and disinformation among the red-necked and stump-toothed, yell the censors.
Yet the entire lot of them sing hosannas to “democracy.” In reality, they believe no more in democracy than they believe in honesty. They believe merely in their own higher vision - and the power to enforce it.
Are we too harsh? Your editor is a man of remarkable equanimity and serenity - if he can say it for himself. Yet here he is insufficiently harsh in all likelihood. Somehow the business seems beyond all human agency, beyond all control. ‘What can I do?’ a fellow wonders, defeated. He may cluck-cluck his opposition to it all - but he is largely a man resigned. His only resort is the voting booth. Will it yield the change he seeks?
It is unlikely. It will instead represent the supreme triumph of hope over experience…Below, we show you why anyone seeking high office should be feared - but also pitied. Read on to learn about the strange, sad life of a politician..."
"The Sad and Strange Life of a Politician"
By Brian Maher
"A man hunting high office is a man to be watched. And the higher the office he seeks, the closer he must be watched. For this is an ambitious man. And as one fellow who raged with ambition - Napoleon Bonaparte - stated: "Those endowed with (great ambition) may perform very good or very bad acts. All depends on the principles which direct them."
We generally place our money on “very bad acts.” That is because we have canvassed the history books. Yet a man after high office - in a democracy specifically -- is also a man to be pitied. Why pitied?
All dignity, all honor, all pride, he must sacrifice in exchange for power. That is because he must face election. Consider the roles that must combine in him: He must be a magician pulling rabbits from top hats. He must be a seller of pre-owned - that is, of used automobiles. He must likewise be a street beggar. He must beg for the franchise of those whom he considers his lessers. After all… if they were not his lessers they would not require his leadership.
And so you have the aspirant of high office - by turns showman, confidence man and beggar. Thus this man is a preposterous formula - a man to be both feared and pitied at once. Is this the description of a respectable man? Of a normal man? It is not. Yet it is the description of a man seeking high office. It is the description of a man who believes he is a big deal in this world. It is the description of a man who believes he should lead you. And that you should follow him. But who respects a follower? Not his leader.
What Politicians and Salesmen Really Think of You: A political candidate and a salesman are brothers. The one solicits your trade, the other your vote. Each pitches his whim-whim at you until he fetches his game. Assume you end up in the bag. He is thrilled to have your sale, to have your vote. But he merely regards you as a means to a rewarding end. He disesteems you inwardly. Behind his flashlight smile he disdains you. You have been duped by his razmataz.
He regards you as an all-day sucker. Who then does he respect? He respects the man who refuses the sale, the man who yawned in his face or who voted against him. That is, he respects the man who sizes him accurately. This man he will look straight in the eye... and extend a firm handshake of respect.
An Intoxicating yet Horrifying Power: Picture our office-seeker in his natural habitat. He stands upon a podium gazing out upon a rustling crowd. What does he see? He does not see individuals. He sees rather a vast, undifferentiated mass. That is, he sees a forest - but no trees. Or to switch metaphors: He is addressing a wheat field. His whoops and shouts raise a mighty breeze. The entire field sways in the wind, this way then that way, back then forth... on his command. He is at once intoxicated by the power he wields over the great human mass, yet horrified that it can be so easily throttled up. It is fearsome to behold.
Pressing the Flesh: Our candidate must also appear directly among smaller chunks of this human mass. He considers them his inferiors, yet pretends to be their equals. Their equals? No - their servant! He must visit factories and feign interest in their goings-on. Though he despises others’ children he must plant kisses on infant foreheads. He must attend local eateries, munch bad food and battle bellyaches while shaking countless hands and jabbering with idiots. Invariably, a man takes him by the ear and will not let go. He babbles about his family, his job, his bowling trophy. All the while he longs to be loafing on his sofa in his underwear, looking at the television.
The sufferings he must endure in pursuit of power! Enduring his terrific breakfast, he is tortured further by the realization that he must repeat the act at lunch in Columbus and dinner in Wilkes-Barre. Then there is tomorrow in Ocala, Macon and Raleigh. It is dreadful business.
The Price to Pay for Power: In his private moments, in the silent watches of the night, he wonders if it is all worth it. He decides - begrudgingly - that it is. Such is his lust for office. It simply overwhelms and envelops him. He assures himself it will all be a distant memory once he is secure in office. He will then be free to renege on all the promises he had made to those half-wits and quarter-wits on the campaign trail...
“Don’t these people realize that they’re being used as political pawns? Do they think that eating pancakes with me and telling me about their mother is going to somehow influence me?” Let us assume our seeker of high office has pulled enough wool over enough eyes… and wins the election.
The Money Is Great: He is relieved that he can proceed straight to the business of governing. That is, to the business of picking pockets, trading horses, scratching backs, greasing palms, cracking skulls... and breaking promises. But his reprise is brief. In two years or four years or six years, he will seek reelection. And the entire process must begin anew. Only next time his cynicism has doubled - no, tripled. The political process has worn the very soul out of him.
Yet he is consoled and soothed by this one central fact: He has grown extremely wealthy being a humble servant of the American people. As we indict this morally bankrupt fellow, we must nonetheless turn and face a mirror. “Every nation gets the government it deserves,” said 18th-century French philosopher Joseph de Maistre. We must conclude that we deserve the scoundrel above described - and others like him. The admission brings pain, yet truth often does.
Is there a way out? Inaction! Another long-deceased Frenchman - Monsieur Étienne de La Boétie - holds out one potential escape, for those in search of one: Inaction. Inaction breaks the politician’s spell. That is, action is not required - merely inaction: "You can deliver yourselves if you try, not by taking action, but merely by willing to be free. Resolve to serve no more, and you are at once freed. I do not ask that you place hands upon the tyrant to topple him over, but simply that you support him no longer; then you will behold him, like a great Colossus whose pedestal has been pulled away, fall of his own weight and break into pieces."
Perhaps the time has come to abandon the ramparts, lay down the muskets… and twiddle the thumbs…To reclaim our power, perhaps it is time for inaction."
"How Political Parties Took Over The United States"
"How Political Parties Took Over The United States"
by Paul Rosenberg
"Millions of decent and hard-working people are presently coming to grips with what has been happening to them. What we'll cover in this post is a crucial and very little-known piece of puzzle. Here we go.
Notwithstanding its “We the people” opening, it was the states who created the US constitution. It was their representatives that produced it and it was they who ratified it. This was clearly understood at the time and long after. And, very importantly, the states retained their power under the constitution. I could throw a number of quotes at you to support this, but I’ll give you just one, leading into our main point. It comes from James Madison, the primary author of the constitution, in the Federalist Papers (#39, to be specific). This is Madison explaining the power of the states over the Senate in the new arrangements:
"The Senate, on the other hand, will derive its powers from the States, as political and coequal societies..." Notice that Senate got its powers directly and only from the states. Senators, under the original constitution, were appointed by state governments, not elected by the people. This was a crucial part of the arrangement. In fact...this was the original separation of powers. Under this arrangement, the states kept the Senate, with its very broad powers, on a leash.
Again I could throw out quotes on the importance of breaking up power to the framers of the US constitution, but I’ll leave that job to you. I will, however, summarize this point: The states weren’t given the power to appoint senators so people would be deprived a voice; it was to prevent the consolidation of power in Washington, D.C. This was a crucial arrangement, and it held until the ratification of the seventeenth amendment in 1913. The arguments for that amendment played upon ignorance and gullibility.
The first argument was that there was corruption involved in appointing senators. It implied that corruption would simply cease once that changed, and that the players in Washington were as pure as the wind-driven snow. The second argument was that some states hadn't always appointed senators promptly. It implied that this was a deathly horror.
Nonetheless, people were seduced by the promise of more power in their own hands, and so the amendment was ratified. And so the states were stripped of power over Washington, D.C. But to whom was that power given? Voters naively thought the power formerly held by the states would be handed to them, but it was the political class who snatched it up. In fact, they usurped control of the Senate.
People could still vote, of course, but their choice was from then on limited to two carefully chosen alternatives... to carefully curated candidates. Candidates with independent streaks might slip through from time to time, but not nearly enough to threaten the power of the parties. And to buttress this last point, consider that over the 125 years between the constitution and the 17th Amendment, there had been, minimally, seven major parties in the United States. Over the 110+ years since, there have been only two major parties. Those two have reigned over Washington D.C. for well over a century, and continue to reign.
And, by the way, the framers of the constitution despised the very idea of political parties and made no allowances for them. This is one of the unspoken facts that lies at the center of US political power. It's something Americans should be aware of."
Gregory Mannarino, "Inflated To Death... The Economy Is Dead"
Gregory Mannarino, AM 10/15/24
"Inflated To Death... The Economy Is Dead"
Comments here:
Bill Bonner, "Ode to Baltimore"
The deconsecrated Methodist Church on Mount Vernon.
"Ode to Baltimore"
The Mount Vernon neighborhood was once one of the richest in America.
It was built from wealth that was earned in manufacturing, trade, and transportation.
by Bill Bonner
Baltimore, Maryland - "Commercial property in the city is suffering a catastrophic collapse. The Baltimore Banner: "One Charles Center sold for $4.5 million at auction. The two-day auction for One Charles Center ended Thursday afternoon with a $4.5 million purchase price, less than the $6 million the late Baltimore Orioles owner Peter Angelos paid for it in 1996. The buyer was undisclosed. The 23-story modernist office tower, designed by famed architect Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, was built at a cost of $10.4 million in 1962 after years of downtown deterioration. The purchase price put the value of the landmark building at $11 a square foot.
Real estate never goes down? By our estimates, Baltimore property prices have been in decline for nearly 100 years. Old photos show the city bustling with life. Wagons, carriages... and later, cars and trucks, filled the streets. People filled the sidewalks. Smoke filled the air.
The Mount Vernon neighborhood was once one of the richest in America. It was built from wealth that was earned in manufacturing, trade, and transportation. Railroad barons built their Gilded Age mansions here, at the railhead for the Baltimore & Ohio line... leading from the coast to the hinterlands of the continent.
Across from us is a grand place built by Robert Garrett and his wife, Mary Frick Garrett. They spent prodigiously... bought art in Europe... and brought in craftsmen who could make fabulous fireplaces and curved staircases. And they hired America’s number one architect at the time, Stanford White. It is a spectacular house, now serving as the Engineers’ Club.
Up St. Paul Street, meanwhile, is the Winans mansion, another masterpiece by Stanford White and also financed by railroad money. It was built by Ross Winans, whose father had made his fortune by building railroads in Russia!
We had our own office in the building for many years, with our desk placed in front of a huge, beautifully painted safe, meant to warehouse the Winans’ fortune. Money was real back then; Winans needed a big safe to keep it. It was said that there was a secret tunnel that linked the house to the nearby Pennsylvania Station, so that Mr. Winans could make a quick retreat if necessary. We searched the basement; we never found it.
But in Baltimore today, there is little trace of that upward striving energy and dynamism that built the city. The urban streets seem almost derelict... shabby... and, well, funky. The area enjoyed a bit of defibrillation last week. It was the 200th anniversary of Lafayette’s triumphal 1824 tour of America. The young Frenchman had famously helped the revolutionaries during their war with England. He brought money... soldiers... and ships to aid the cause of liberty and helped them win the decisive battle of Yorktown, Virginia. “There were actually more Frenchmen fighting the British at Yorktown than there were Americans,” explained the French colonel who had been sent by the embassy for the event.
In 1776, most Americans were either indifferent to the ‘Revolutionary War’ or opposed to it. Only a third supported it. But when a war is won, ‘patriots’ multiply like maggots, feeding on the dead flesh of victory. And by 1924, Baltimore had erected a marvelous statue of Gilbert de Motier, the marquis de Lafayette. This year, their pride expanded even further as they noted that Lafayette was taught English by an ‘African-American woman!’
A crowd gathered at the monument. Bands played the Marseillaise and the National Anthem... a man dressed as Lafayette had his photo taken with our grandchildren... and then our group adjourned to a local club for strong drink and weak speeches. Then, on Sunday, we took a walk ... surveying the many architectural treasures... almost all relics of the 19th or early 20th centuries. The handsome houses had cornices, porticos, hanging bay windows, curved glass and columns.
In a coffee shop, two Black women stood at the counter, placing an order. One had long blue tresses in her hair... the other had ones of gold. On a bench nearby, a young man talked to himself. He did not seem angry... but animated, as if deep in an intense discussion with someone who is not there. It was a Sunday morning in Baltimore. ‘Rainbow’ flags hang from some windows. Black Lives Matter flags are out too. A woman with a blue mohawk passed, walking her dog. Two chunky women in work overalls... both with short hair... strolled on the other side of the street holding hands.
Charles street runs north to south, right through the heart of the city. It was once the most elegant street in an elegant and prosperous city. But on Sunday, you could have taken a nap in the middle of the street without much risk of injury. The occasional motorist would have taken you for another of the many drug addicts and drunks who, on Sunday morning, sleep it off on the sidewalks and in entryways... one was on the steps of the grand Methodist church, now de-consecrated and empty, on Mt. Vernon Place.
Two large-ish young women... in small-ish, tight dresses, suddenly came tumbling out of a night club... holding onto each other... giggling. A big, black station wagon picked them up. A huge man with a huge beard sat in a huge pick-up truck. ‘Bay State Pipelines’ it said. He was drinking coffee, before going back to tearing up the street.
The city has gone to the dogs. Literally. A fat 20-something woman walked through the park... with a tiny dog on a leash. A thin young man tugged on a pit-bull in a choke collar. There are small dogs. And big dogs. Collies. Terriers. Sheep dogs. And spindly greyhounds. Everyone seems to have a dog. Even the homeless and shiftless have dogs. They appear to use them as props, friends, or maybe just pets.
On the sidewalk, a middle-aged Black woman with dyed yellow hair sat with her dog... and a caddy full of her belongings. A ‘bag lady,’ she had a cup in front of her for donations. She smiled into space, but said nothing.
The only businesses that are open on Sunday are the cafes. Each seems to have its own brand... and own clientele. One is the hangout for gays, bis, polyamorous, thrupples…or whatever. The staff are tattooed and pierced. The customers too. Many have dogs with them that are sometimes tied to railings outside.
The servers all seem to have an attitude. They are not meant to be working there, they seem to be saying. They are artists, musicians, activists and revolutionaries – all manques. In their spare time they are composing soundless music. In their drawers they have unpublished novels. But they need a ‘day job’ to support themselves. And this is it. But don’t get the wrong idea; they are not there to ‘serve’ the customer... but just to go through the motions until quitting time.
‘Normal’ people — retired tourists... or students from one of the nearby schools — might be put off by the gay joint. Down the street, another coffee shop puts them at ease. It is run more professionally by a Lebanese fellow. At least, we think he is Lebanese. We don’t know. But his ship is tight... and his cabin crew are not just privileged White dropouts, but Hispanics and Blacks who actually seem to take their jobs seriously. They are polite. And they know how to make a good cup of coffee.
But among the customers there are still quite a few people who look like they might have been extras in a John Waters movie. Old people shuffle in, struggling to stay on the right side of dementia. And there are young people — often students at the nearby ‘arts’ school — who are wondering if they should switch majors, switch schools, or switch sexes.
Two other coffee shops are worth a mention. One of them seems to have gotten the young professional crowd. It is new, hip, cool... with all the oat-milk and gluten-free pastries you could want. You go in... and you see dozens of people with their laptops open. Some are probably students at the medical school. Some might be students at the law school. And some are perhaps already employed... on-line and on-the-job in the relative camaraderie of a well-lit coffee shop rather than at home, where they pay the electric bills themselves.
The final coffee shop in our small area is our least favorite. Its servers are supercilious, rule-following, self-absorbed numbskulls. Here’s what happened. When we finally returned from Argentina, at the tail end of the lockdown in 2020, we stopped there for a coffee. The front door was closed. “No entry during pandemic,” it said... or something like that. Instead, it had a window open to the street, “Place order here” said the sign. So, we did as instructed.
“I’d like a cappuccino,” we said to a pimply post-teen, with straight dark hair, shaved on both sides of his head but let to grow long on top. “You have to place your order online,” was the monotone reply. “Well, I don’t have my phone with me.” “Sorry, you have to place the order online.” “Uh... I’m standing right here. I’m your only customer. Why don’t I just give you $4... and you give me a cup of coffee? It’ll be our little secret.” “You have to place your order online,” came the robot-like answer. We haven’t been back."
o
And as America's cities and society
degenerate into chaos and anarchy...
Full screen recommended.
Cash Jordan, 10/15/24
"Migrant Gangs Leave NYC… To Destroy New Jersey"
"Recent reports indicate that gang related crime is up in 8 states, one of which is New Jersey, which just so happens to be next door to America's largest sanctuary city, New York. Over the last year NYC has seen high numbers of asylum seekers arrive, however not all of those who claim to be seeking asylum actually are... instead a small number of people have come here looking for something else."
Comments here:
But of course you hear the brain dead sheeple shout,
"Oh! That could never happen here!"
Guess again...
Dan, I Allegedly, "Is Your Time Your Own? No Contact After Hours"
Full screen recommended.
Dan, I Allegedly, AM 10/15/24
"Is Your Time Your Own? No Contact After Hours"
"Today, we dive into the madness surrounding the "Controversial Right to Disconnect." Is it a necessity or pure chaos? With countries like Australia, Spain, and Belgium adopting this, Mr. Wonderful, Kevin O'Leary, is raising eyebrows. He argues against the insanity of cutting off after-hours communication, especially when emergencies arise. Do we risk business efficiency or gain personal freedom? Get ready for a rollercoaster of insights as I share tales from my event planning days, where after-hours calls were the norm. Plus, we'll explore why kindness, even in stressful work environments, always wins. Have you ever had a boss who didn't respect your off-hours? Let's chat about it in the comments!"
Comments here:
Monday, October 14, 2024
"Columbus Day"
“A lot of the nonsense was the innocent result of playfulness on the part of the founding fathers of the nation of Dwayne Hoover and Kilgore Trout. The founders were aristocrats, and they wished to show off their useless eduction, which consisted of the study of hocus-pocus from ancient times. They were bum poets as well.
But some of the nonsense was evil, since it concealed great crime. For example, teachers of children in the United States of America wrote this date on blackboards again and again, and asked the children to memorize it with pride and joy:
1492
The teachers told the children that this was when their continent was discovered by human beings. Actually, millions of human beings were already living full and imaginative lives on the continent in 1492. That was simply the year in which sea pirates began to cheat and rob and kill them.
Here was another piece of nonsense which children were taught: that the sea pirates eventually created a government which became a beacon of freedom of human beings everywhere else. Actually, the sea pirates who had the most to do with the creation of the new government owned human slaves. They used human beings for machinery, and, even after slavery was eliminated, because it was so embarrassing, they and their descendants continued to think of ordinary human beings as machines.
The sea pirates were white. The people who were already on the continent when the pirates arrived were copper-colored. When slavery was introduced onto the continent, the slaves were black.
Color was everything.
Here is how the pirates were able to take whatever they wanted from anybody else: they had the best boats in the world, and they were meaner than anybody else, and they had gunpowder, which is a mixture of potassium nitrate, charcoal, and sulphur. They touched the seemingly listless powder with fire, and it turned violently into gas. This gas blew projectiles out of metal tubes at terrific velocities. The projectiles cut through meat and bone very easily; so the pirates could wreck the wiring or the bellows or the plumbing of a stubborn human being, even when he was far, far away.
The chief weapon of the sea pirates, however, was their capacity to astonish. Nobody else could believe, until it was much too late, how heartless and greedy they were.”
- Kurt Vonnegut, "Breakfast of Champions"
Canadian Prepper, "Alert: Israel's Apocalyptic War Begins Before Election, USA THAAD Deployed (Explicit Language)"
Canadian Prepper, 10/14/24
"Alert: Israel's Apocalyptic War Begins Before Election,
USA THAAD Deployed (Explicit Language)"
Comments here:
Adventures with Danno, "I Don't Know How To Discuss This Nicely, This Is Unreal"
Adventures with Danno, PM 10/14/24
"I Don't Know How To Discuss This Nicely,
This Is Unreal"
Comments here:
Jeremiah Babe, "The Most Dangerous Point In U.S. History Is Right Now; 1,000 Bank Branches To Close This Year"
Jeremiah Babe, 10/14/24
"The Most Dangerous Point In U.S. History Is Right Now;
1,000 Bank Branches To Close This Year"
Comments here:
"A Look to the Heavens"
“This pretty, open cluster of stars, M34, is about the size of the Full Moon on the sky. Easy to appreciate in small telescopes, it lies some 1,800 light-years away in the constellation Perseus. At that distance, M34 physically spans about 15 light-years. Formed at the same time from the same cloud of dust and gas, all the stars of M34 are about 200 million years young.
But like any open star cluster orbiting in the plane of our galaxy, M34 will eventually disperse as it experiences gravitational tides and encounters with the Milky Way's interstellar clouds and other stars. Over four billion years ago, our own Sun was likely formed in a similar open star cluster.”
- http://apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap100211.html
"To Really Ask..."
“Very few beings really seek knowledge in this world – few really ask. On the contrary, they try to wring from the unknown the answers they have already shaped in their own minds – justifications, confirmations, forms of consolation without which they can’t go on. To really ask is to open the door to a whirlwind. The answer may annihilate the question and the questioner.”
- Anne Rice, “The Vampire Lestat”
"We May Know..."
“We may know that the work we continue to put off doing will be bad. Worse, however, is the work we never do. A work that’s finished is at least finished. It may be poor, but it exists, like the miserable plant in the lone flowerpot of my neighbor who’s crippled. That plant is her happiness, and sometimes it’s even mine. What I write, bad as it is, may provide some hurt or sad soul a few moments of distraction from something worse. That’s enough for me, or it isn’t enough, but it serves some purpose, and so it is with all of life.”
- Fernando Pessoa
"We Have The Power..."
“Every day, I saw more evidence about the evils humankind will inflict on their fellow humans to gain or maintain power. What is more, those who choose not to empathize may enable real monsters. For without ever committing an act of outright evil ourselves, we collude with it through our own apathy. If you choose to use your status and influence to raise your voice on behalf of those who have no voice; if you choose to identify not only with the powerful, but with the powerless; if you retain the ability to imagine yourself into the lives of those who do not have your advantages, then it will not only be your proud families who celebrate your existence, but thousands and millions of people whose reality you have helped transform for the better. We do not need magic to change the world, we carry all the power we need inside ourselves already: we have the power to imagine better.”
– J. K. Rowling, Harvard Commencement, June 5, 2008
“Of Time, Turnings, Stars & Wars”
“Of Time, Turnings, Stars & Wars”
by Doug "Uncola" Lynn
"Like nature, history is full of processes that cannot happen in reverse. Just as the laws of entropy do not allow a bird to fly backward, or droplets to regroup at the top of a waterfall, history has no rewind button. Like the seasons of nature, it moves only forward."
- Strauss and Howe: “The Fourth Turning”
"Contemplating the concept of time can be quite confounding, to say the least. In the extreme, considering the paradoxical nature of time’s passage will stretch the mind causing thoughts to invert like taffy in a rolling machine or light yielding to the gravity of an Event Horizon before the edge of a Black Hole in deep space.
Knowing Einstein was right means time stops at the speed of light. Surely then, waves of thought must generate their own specific gravity to capture both light and sound, together. Our eyes and ears record each moment and translate events into high definition digital memories which we can recall upon demand and view as celluloid film stock in a dark room.
However, in this dimension, there is another aspect at play that comes attached to time. Space: The final frontier. These conflagrate together and then separate at any given moment never to coalesce again in quite the same way. Time can be recalled like a ghost, or a spectral hologram, on the mind’s screen, but the space will have changed and dissipated entropically like dust digested in the amorphous bellies of Stephen King’s Langoliers.
To put it another way, time changes everything. A couple of years ago one of my offspring had a milestone birthday so we went to a morning movie matinee followed by an expensive late lunch at a fine dining venue. It was there where I chewed my food and contemplated the confounding conceptual continuations of space and time.
The movie was the Star Wars flick, "Rogue One" and the state-of-the-art theater featured stadium seating and a massive UltraScreen Deluxe® with Dolby® Atmospheric Surround-sound which, according to the advertisements, offered the “ultimate moviegoing experience”. As I watched the story unfold in REAL D 3D® with my 3D glasses in place while eating my popcorn and nestled comfortably in the red leather DreamLoungerTM recliner, I thought to myself how I really am in the future. In the lobby after the movie, I checked Drudge on my smartphone and learned Carrie Fisher had died in Los Angeles.
This made me remember way back to my past when I was a preteen and first saw the original Star Wars. I watched it with several friends in an ornately vintage, and solitary, theater in my small town. Through the patina of time and the opaque looking glass of my mind’s eye, I remember hoping no one would tell my parents, or my orthodontist, that I was eating popcorn and lemon drops with new braces on my teeth. Although I was an avid reader back then with a keen appreciation for science fiction, I had not seen a film before that captivated me like the first Star Wars. The excellent storyline, superior special effects, and the characters in the film really made an impression on me.
If my current self could go back to that day, I would meet the geeky, metal-mouthed kid after the movie and tell him some things. I would also mention how, in 43 years, he will celebrate his progeny’s birthday who, at that time, will be several years older than he is now and how he will be seeing another Star Wars movie on the very same day that Princess Leia died in real life.
The ironic confluence of time and space, indeed.
I am sure the mini-me at that time would have pegged me as a brain-damaged old fool and, in turn, would have attempted to persuade me into buying him and his friends a six-pack of beer, a fifth of peppermint Schnapps, a Playboy and a can of chew. After all, according to "The Fourth Turning," by Strauss and Howe, the year 1977 was two and a half “Turnings” ago. Back then, the future wasn’t set. Or was it?
“We perceive our civic challenge as some vast, insoluble Rubik’s Cube. Behind each problem lies another problem that must be solved first, and behind that lies yet another, and another, ad infinitum. To fix crime we have to fix the family, but before we do that we have to fix welfare, and that means fixing our budget, and that means fixing our civic spirit, but we can’t do that without fixing moral standards, and that means fixing schools and churches, and that means fixing the inner cities, and that’s impossible unless we fix crime. There’s no fulcrum on which to rest a policy lever. People of all ages sense that something huge will have to sweep across America before the gloom can be lifted – but that’s an awareness we suppress. As a nation, we’re in deep denial.”
- Strauss and Howe, “The Fourth Turning”
Written by the historians William Strauss and Neil Howe, “The Fourth Turning” was published in 1997 and was, at that time, boldly proclaimed by the authors to be an “American Prophecy”. The book is fascinating in that it very thoroughly documents recorded cycles of history across multiple cultures and eras in order to predict the timing of “America’s next rendezvous with destiny”.
Processing almost like a Cliff’s Notes summary, the book identifies the timelines of historical events and matches them to specific life cycles of people in the form of generational archetypes. What is also interesting is how Strauss and Howe quantify and compare the recordings of history of multiple authors throughout the millennia to find uncanny comparisons in both historical and generational cycles. Ironically, the comparisons stand up not only to the test of time regarding recorded events in history, but the generational turnings and archetypes also translate to ancient literature and other writings as well, ranging from Homer’s Iliad to the Holy Bible.
The concept of time is discussed in the context of both circular and linear perspectives as Strauss and Howe describe what is called the “saeculum”. The saeculum represents a “long human life”, or approximately 80 to 90 years comprising of four turnings each lasting about 20 to 22 years.
Just as there are four seasons consisting of spring, summer, fall and winter, there are also four phases of a human life represented in childhood, young adulthood, middle age and old age, or elderhood. As each phase of human life represents approximately 20 years, so is each generational archetype identified within historical cycles, or turnings, as follows:
Click image for larger size.
The generational archetypes experience the historical turnings according their life stage, or age. Amazingly, history shows a consistent pattern in how the generations both cause and affect historical events. The patterns develop based upon how each generation interacts with the other and this also has documented consistencies that are delineated by the authors.
At any given “turning” during the saeculum, the set order of the generations on the age ladder is called a “constellation”. For example, during the Fourth Turning Crisis of 1929 through 1945, America experienced a financial crash, a great depression and a world war. During this period, the Prophet generation was entering Elderhood, the Nomad generation were middle-aged and the Hero generation fought WW II as young adults while the Artist generation were children during that time.
When the Crisis (Winter) era of financial hardship and war was over, the Spring of another First Turning began as the Hero generation led America into a season of unparalleled prosperity from 1946 through President John F. Kennedy’s assassination in 1963. It was then the baby boomer, Prophet, generation began. As young adults, the boomers began to rock the nation with new age flower-power, feminism, guitars and free love. Thus began the Awakening that lasted through Ronald Reagan’s first term that ended in 1984. It was then the Third Turning of the Unraveling began.
In 1997, when the Fourth Turning was published, Strauss and Howe used their generational model to predict with remarkable accuracy, the start of the next Crisis in 2005: “By the middle Oh-Ohs, institutions will reach a point of maximum weakness, individualism of maximum strength, and even the simplest public task will feel beyond the ability of government. As niche walls rise ever higher, people will complain endlessly how bad all of the niches are. Wide chasms will separate rich from poor, whites from blacks, immigrants from native borns, seculars from born agains, technophiles from technophobes. America will feel more tribal. Indeed, many will be asking whether fifty states and so many dozens of ethic cultures make sense any more as a nation – and, if they do, whether that nation has a future.”
- Strauss and Howe: “The Fourth Turning”
In 1997 there was no way to foresee the sequencing of 911, the Patriot Act, Edward Snowden, government incompetence after Hurricane Katrina, the financial crisis of 2007 – 2008, the subsequent TARP bailouts or the election of a mysterious, biracial pied piper to the presidency of the United States.
There is no way anyone could have predicted the ensuing eight years of Obama, the nationalization of healthcare, the orgy of greed hosted by Wall Street at the expense of Main Street, endless wars, unchecked immigration, the TSA, NSA, Homeland Security, the CIA versus the FBI, smart phones, drones, religious discriminations, Occupy Wall Street, the Tea Party, the Alt-right, Black Lives Matter and fake news.
Given the accuracy and timing of Strauss and Howe’s predictions, perhaps there is real validity behind their generational theory after all. And, given this, then we are now within the Winter of a Fourth Turning Crisis.
Can you feel it in the air? High powers in dark places are gathering and sides are being chosen as potential treachery and intrigue lurk around every corner. A global empire stands prepared to battle with populist movements and sovereign nations across the globe while rumors of a neo American civil war abound here at home.
Captured corporate media propaganda outlets and deep state government agencies relentlessly shill for a global empire and stoke the fires of war against a free alternative media while simultaneously provoking a nuclear armed Russia.
Half of the nation’s electorate, on the brink of a financial abyss, would rather kneel before an evil empire than to support the outcome of a free election. Of course, there is no unity in America today. Those days are long gone.
“People young and old will puzzle over what it felt like for their parents and grandparents, in a distantly remembered era, to have lived in a society that felt like one national community. They will yearn to recreate this, to put America back together again. But no one will know how.”
- Strauss and Howe, “The Fourth Turning”
Winter is here. War is coming. Battles will be waged and conflicts will rage. There will be no escape for what is coming and no guarantee as to any outcome, save one: After this Fourth Turning, there will remain only liberty or tyranny. One, but not the other. For this will be a fight unto the death.
Even so, do many Nomads now entering middle-age, and their Hero generation progeniture, actually understand what is about to befall them? Do they even care? And, for those who do understand and do care; do they know how to fight?
Truly, there are many variables to this historical cycle that were absent in the all of the previous Fourth Turnings throughout history. A few examples would include pervasive and devastating technology with the capabilities of either enslaving, or killing, entire generations of people; a global corporatocracy in control of government agencies, mass flows of information, food and resources; entirely misinformed and apathetic populations with no moral bearing, belief system, or willingness to accept truth in order to stand strong against the dark powers now encroaching; and, finally, there are so many who have been trained to embrace the utopian lie of one world under tyranny. Sadly, many of these may be the new Stormtroopers in waiting.
In the end, we must choose. And not choosing, by default, is a choice. Can a rag tag federation of freedom fighters with truth, liberty and history on their side under a flag of 13 stripes and 50 stars, with idea-fueled keyboards, a compromised internet, and semi-automatic weapons prevail against a galactic empire in control of a technocracy more powerful than any fictional Death Star?
We’re about to find out. Everything that has ever happened before has delivered us to where we are now. Hold on to that. Even more importantly, don’t forget to fasten your seatbelts and place your trays in the upright and locked position.The warp drive is about to be engaged. A new journey has begun."
"May the Force be with you."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)