Theme music:
This is from a response posted to an excellent comments thread over at the Urban Planning blog Greater Greater Washington.
Mark makes an excellent point when he writes about Peaks such as Peak Oil and Peak Traffic Miles.
Yet he doesn't take it to the next level, which I shall endeavor to do.
We've also reached Peak Population Growth Rate, and in fact the main drivers of US population growth -- Latin American nations -- are experiencing a massive decrease in fertility rates. For more information, please see:
Fertility Rates Plummet in Brazil (Forero, Juan, Washington Post, December 29, 2011)
At a candidate forum not so long ago in MoCo, I asked incumbent George Leventhal "why do all of you people insist on planning for endless growth based on the assumption that the population will forever increase?" And he came back with the (paraphrased) remark "well, the rest of the world is rapidly increasing, so we should do the same".
Of course I didn't get the opportunity to respond "but that's like saying that because our neighbors all have cancer, therefor we should all start smoking tobacco". His response was exactly that out-of-touch. Yet as the Post article shows, I might be as wrong as he was. To continue the allegory, the neighbors don't have cancer, so to speak, they are not only in remission but healthier than we are.
The US brought the native-born fertility rate down to zero population growth about a decade ago; and European populations are notably below replacement fertility. The Chinese have been aggressively enforcing "two parents one child" for at least one full generation, and it is having profound effects on both Chinese economy and society. Africa, at large, would still be experiencing truly massive population growth if it were not for the scourges of war and HIV synergizing mass casualties, but even as Africa begins to successfully deal with the AIDS plague, they are also urbanizing in many places and with that urbanization comes more education, more career options for women, and both better access to contraception and greater desire and ability to actually use it.
Global Peak Population will probably be reached by around 2040-2050 and thereafter will decline, with significant growth continuing in some hotspots and with significant decline occurring in others. In some cases that decline will be due to one or another calamity or set of calamities, but as the world globally enters the industrial/post-industrial age, we shall see significant drops in fertility rates.
Brazil, as in the article cited above, points the way to a new field of opportunity and hope. With the fertility rate below replacement rate (1.9 children/female) and with so much of the infrastructure of such recent construction (or remaining to be built), Brazil may present much greater opportunities for their declining future generation, in terms of employment. Who emigrates from a nation with a shrinking population and thus an expanding per-capita share of exploitable and mostly-untapped wealth?
The Post's graphic illustrates the whole Latin-American fertility-rate decrease quite handily on a per-nation basis, though curiously it provides no information regarding El Salvador, Guatemala, or Honduras:
Graphic: Fertility Rates Plunging Across Latin America (Washington Post, December 29, 2011.) (Source credited as UN Economic Commission for Latin America and the Caribbean)
The immediate conclusion is this: As the sole driver for population growth in the US since the 1990s has been immigration -- legal or otherwise -- as populations stabilize and per-capita wealth rises and modern infrastructures are put in place in the nations which historically contributed most to our population growth since 1990, we shall have far less immigration. Our national population will, at long last and thank goodness, begin to decline.
The summary conclusion (leaving the Greater Washington Metro out of the discussion as it is a special case) is that from now on, the Urban Planning Community must concern itself far less with Growth and far more with Refinement. There's no need to try to limit Growth where there isn't any Growth. There's no need to try to prevent Sprawl when there are no pressures toward it.
In a Zero Population Growth or even a Negative Population Growth scenario -- one which the data suggests is coming on us even now -- you don't make plans for Growth, one way or the other, you don't plan for any future other than to Rebuild the Present.
Stop thinking "if you build it, they will come", because, frankly, they are not coming. Increasingly, there won't be anyone to come; they'll be doing quite fine back home, thanks.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Alone In A Darkened Room...
Here, have some theme music to play while you read.
Contrary to any rumors that might be flying around, I am not sitting alone in a darkened room.
I'm actually basking in the glow of a new and rather expensive LED light rated as equivalent to a hundred-watt incandescent bulb. This is how I treat my Seasonal Affective Disorder. Fortunately for me, I know what the problem is, and as fortunately, I don't have a particularly bad case. For me, when the daytime is much less than 10 hours, I get pretty glum and mopey and don't have much tolerance for people, which considering that I am not gregarious means that I'd really rather not see much of anyone.
This can be rather problematic in an overcrowded society which has somehow got the idea that people who don't prefer crowds are somehow worrisome, properly the objects of suspicion, or even to be feared. Fear not, folks. Leaving out certain individuals best left unnamed, while I dislike crowds, I do not dislike people. I do in fact like certain individuals, but I generally don't want to spend all day every day in their company, nor perhaps even hours. If anyone were to characterize me as a timid woodland creature that likes to peek at the funny bipeds but not get too close, I'd say that's not too far off of the mark.
One of the things that the experienced outdoors-person will know is that one of the best ways to make the timid woodlands creatures scamper off is to stare at them. The hungry squirrels in my yard have no acorns this year, and so I have to feed them, pretty much by hand, to keep them from devouring the contents of the bird-feeder. If I don't look directly at the squirrels, they are less reluctant to approach the hand holding the peanuts. Most of them will even leave the bird-feeder if I stare at them hard enough. If I set a peanut down next to my foot, most of the squirrels will approach to take it. If I stare at them as they approach, they'll grab the peanut and run off at least a few yards. If I don't stare, most of them will pick up the peanut and eat it right there. As long as I behave in ways that don't worry them, even the timid woodland creatures don't mind hanging out with me. Then again, you never know what could set off a seemingly-unprovoked episode of Squirrely Wrath.
With a rather abrupt segue, I should pause to mention that you can get speedy service and a great selection of products at Next Day Blinds in Aspen Hill.
I live on one of the most busy intersections in Aspen Hill, and have a bus-stop right out front.
Aside from the occasional trash that gets left behind as people board the bus, I only have one real objection to the bus-stop. This is not even the fault of the bus-stop, its location, or the people who are always out there waiting for the bus.
My mom (who of course I miss greatly) spent most of her adult life working in government offices, with most of those offices being of the windowless sort, or the sort where the windows were small or far away. As a result, she compensated at home.
As with many of the homes in this neighborhood, this one has an immense picture window. It faces the bus-stop and the intersection beyond it. Further, mom made a decorating decision sometime back in the 1960s, which involved sheer gauze curtains as window dressing, along with nothing else other than some ornamental and artsy colored glassware. This let in quite a bit of natural daylight, but at night, half of any light in the room went right out the window. Not incidentally, anyone outside could easily see the interior of the living and dining rooms.
Perhaps mom just wanted to let every last passerby see and admire her tastefulness in interior decoration and her fine choices in lovely-yet-durable wood furnishings.
As for me, since the age of 12 or so, just knowing that you could not see out through that window at night, but every last passerby could see in, creeped me out totally to the point where I'd rather be in absolutely any other room in preference to that one.
Did I mention that Next Day Blinds has a fine selection of products, and speedy delivery?
I picked up some nice venetian blinds. I could have had them installed, but what's the point in owning power tools if you never use them?
Since my mom's passing I spend a lot more time upstairs, and for the last few weeks, while watching the evening news, I have watched busload after busload of people passing by, many if not most of them looking in my direction. After dark, the Ride-On 48 bus, with the illuminated interior, looks like nothing so much as a living room rolling past, and as well as I could see into it, the riders could see into my living room. Well, not anymore. I don't know what could be so fascinating about me sitting on the couch and eating dinner off of a tray while watching the evening news. Maybe it's just the fact that there was a window left unblinded that attracted all passing eyes, with the content of the interior mattering little. Well, they can stare all they want and I don't have to see it.
The room is much brighter, as well. Much of the light that was going right out the window now remains within, reflected back by the white of the venetian blinds.
This is so long overdue, in my opinion, that I spent most of yesterday evening walking around the room going "Yes... yes... YES!" Now I actually like a room in my house which for the last forty years I haven't been able to much stand. Bouncing a 100-watt-equivalent LED spotlight off of the blinds, long after the sun has set on these short days, the room is lit up like a Florida beach at high noon in July. Wave bye-bye, Seasonal Affective Disorder. Wave bye-bye, mopey glumness! I may actually get to be really quite happy! I might even smile a lot.
Too bad, I guess, that nobody will ever see it.
Contrary to any rumors that might be flying around, I am not sitting alone in a darkened room.
I'm actually basking in the glow of a new and rather expensive LED light rated as equivalent to a hundred-watt incandescent bulb. This is how I treat my Seasonal Affective Disorder. Fortunately for me, I know what the problem is, and as fortunately, I don't have a particularly bad case. For me, when the daytime is much less than 10 hours, I get pretty glum and mopey and don't have much tolerance for people, which considering that I am not gregarious means that I'd really rather not see much of anyone.
This can be rather problematic in an overcrowded society which has somehow got the idea that people who don't prefer crowds are somehow worrisome, properly the objects of suspicion, or even to be feared. Fear not, folks. Leaving out certain individuals best left unnamed, while I dislike crowds, I do not dislike people. I do in fact like certain individuals, but I generally don't want to spend all day every day in their company, nor perhaps even hours. If anyone were to characterize me as a timid woodland creature that likes to peek at the funny bipeds but not get too close, I'd say that's not too far off of the mark.
One of the things that the experienced outdoors-person will know is that one of the best ways to make the timid woodlands creatures scamper off is to stare at them. The hungry squirrels in my yard have no acorns this year, and so I have to feed them, pretty much by hand, to keep them from devouring the contents of the bird-feeder. If I don't look directly at the squirrels, they are less reluctant to approach the hand holding the peanuts. Most of them will even leave the bird-feeder if I stare at them hard enough. If I set a peanut down next to my foot, most of the squirrels will approach to take it. If I stare at them as they approach, they'll grab the peanut and run off at least a few yards. If I don't stare, most of them will pick up the peanut and eat it right there. As long as I behave in ways that don't worry them, even the timid woodland creatures don't mind hanging out with me. Then again, you never know what could set off a seemingly-unprovoked episode of Squirrely Wrath.
With a rather abrupt segue, I should pause to mention that you can get speedy service and a great selection of products at Next Day Blinds in Aspen Hill.
I live on one of the most busy intersections in Aspen Hill, and have a bus-stop right out front.
Aside from the occasional trash that gets left behind as people board the bus, I only have one real objection to the bus-stop. This is not even the fault of the bus-stop, its location, or the people who are always out there waiting for the bus.
My mom (who of course I miss greatly) spent most of her adult life working in government offices, with most of those offices being of the windowless sort, or the sort where the windows were small or far away. As a result, she compensated at home.
As with many of the homes in this neighborhood, this one has an immense picture window. It faces the bus-stop and the intersection beyond it. Further, mom made a decorating decision sometime back in the 1960s, which involved sheer gauze curtains as window dressing, along with nothing else other than some ornamental and artsy colored glassware. This let in quite a bit of natural daylight, but at night, half of any light in the room went right out the window. Not incidentally, anyone outside could easily see the interior of the living and dining rooms.
Perhaps mom just wanted to let every last passerby see and admire her tastefulness in interior decoration and her fine choices in lovely-yet-durable wood furnishings.
As for me, since the age of 12 or so, just knowing that you could not see out through that window at night, but every last passerby could see in, creeped me out totally to the point where I'd rather be in absolutely any other room in preference to that one.
Did I mention that Next Day Blinds has a fine selection of products, and speedy delivery?
I picked up some nice venetian blinds. I could have had them installed, but what's the point in owning power tools if you never use them?
Since my mom's passing I spend a lot more time upstairs, and for the last few weeks, while watching the evening news, I have watched busload after busload of people passing by, many if not most of them looking in my direction. After dark, the Ride-On 48 bus, with the illuminated interior, looks like nothing so much as a living room rolling past, and as well as I could see into it, the riders could see into my living room. Well, not anymore. I don't know what could be so fascinating about me sitting on the couch and eating dinner off of a tray while watching the evening news. Maybe it's just the fact that there was a window left unblinded that attracted all passing eyes, with the content of the interior mattering little. Well, they can stare all they want and I don't have to see it.
The room is much brighter, as well. Much of the light that was going right out the window now remains within, reflected back by the white of the venetian blinds.
This is so long overdue, in my opinion, that I spent most of yesterday evening walking around the room going "Yes... yes... YES!" Now I actually like a room in my house which for the last forty years I haven't been able to much stand. Bouncing a 100-watt-equivalent LED spotlight off of the blinds, long after the sun has set on these short days, the room is lit up like a Florida beach at high noon in July. Wave bye-bye, Seasonal Affective Disorder. Wave bye-bye, mopey glumness! I may actually get to be really quite happy! I might even smile a lot.
Too bad, I guess, that nobody will ever see it.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
[Review] Art...
Art was this guy I knew in high-school... and he was depressing, too.
Melancholia, directed by Lars von Trier, is one of those films about which the better sort of art critics rave, and if you're mostly interested in highest-quality cinematography, superlatively rich settings, and too close a focus on people wrecking each others lives while wrecking their own, this is the film of the year.
Kirsten Dunst -- who I simply cannot ever dissociate with "Bring It On" -- heads the all-star cast, as a talented woman succumbing to Major Depression in the middle of a major career advancement and wedding. Typical of the progression of the illness, at the moment of a storybook wedding to the man of her dreams who is not-incidentally the heir to the top-flight advertising agency where she is attaining the top of the career arc, she makes every bad decision imaginable and also some that one simply could not reasonably imagine, much less expect. One life thrown down the shithole, that you could imagine coming from anyone, but to screw it up this badly for several entire families and all of their friends and associates, you need to be genuinely insane. And that she becomes. And does.
Part II is about her "recovery", if you can call it that. As if all of the preceding wasn't enough, a rogue planet will cross paths with the orbit of our Earth, and it's all up in the air as to whether our protagonist will pull herself together to either survive a near encounter with something approximating grace, or die bravely should the rogue planet actually collide with us.
This might be considered a deep and extended set of nested allegories, with the first set not too hard to understand; "Justine" is a rogue planet careening through the lives assembled in one party for her marriage to "Michael". The second set might be a little more difficult to see, as in Part II we see her wrecked personage forced to rise to assume a position of responsibility and bravery to become an anchor of strength when her family needs her as the rogue planet draws nigh. If only she'd done that during the marriage sequence rather than herself being the rogue planet, that part of the drama might have worked out rather more happily. Yet of course this is all allegory, no matter how well-done and instant the drama of the first order, the allegory of course is the effects of Major Depression on those who are afflicted. A rogue planet indeed, which unstoppably crashes in to destroy worlds, lives, families, and relationships.
Walking out of the theater, I was thinking "what a raft of pretentious crap".
Writing up this review, I'm thinking quite the opposite.
Merry Christmas to all, I had Chinese and a movie and a bit of time with friends and family, I hope everyone else was at least as blessed.
Melancholia, directed by Lars von Trier, is one of those films about which the better sort of art critics rave, and if you're mostly interested in highest-quality cinematography, superlatively rich settings, and too close a focus on people wrecking each others lives while wrecking their own, this is the film of the year.
Kirsten Dunst -- who I simply cannot ever dissociate with "Bring It On" -- heads the all-star cast, as a talented woman succumbing to Major Depression in the middle of a major career advancement and wedding. Typical of the progression of the illness, at the moment of a storybook wedding to the man of her dreams who is not-incidentally the heir to the top-flight advertising agency where she is attaining the top of the career arc, she makes every bad decision imaginable and also some that one simply could not reasonably imagine, much less expect. One life thrown down the shithole, that you could imagine coming from anyone, but to screw it up this badly for several entire families and all of their friends and associates, you need to be genuinely insane. And that she becomes. And does.
Part II is about her "recovery", if you can call it that. As if all of the preceding wasn't enough, a rogue planet will cross paths with the orbit of our Earth, and it's all up in the air as to whether our protagonist will pull herself together to either survive a near encounter with something approximating grace, or die bravely should the rogue planet actually collide with us.
This might be considered a deep and extended set of nested allegories, with the first set not too hard to understand; "Justine" is a rogue planet careening through the lives assembled in one party for her marriage to "Michael". The second set might be a little more difficult to see, as in Part II we see her wrecked personage forced to rise to assume a position of responsibility and bravery to become an anchor of strength when her family needs her as the rogue planet draws nigh. If only she'd done that during the marriage sequence rather than herself being the rogue planet, that part of the drama might have worked out rather more happily. Yet of course this is all allegory, no matter how well-done and instant the drama of the first order, the allegory of course is the effects of Major Depression on those who are afflicted. A rogue planet indeed, which unstoppably crashes in to destroy worlds, lives, families, and relationships.
Walking out of the theater, I was thinking "what a raft of pretentious crap".
Writing up this review, I'm thinking quite the opposite.
Merry Christmas to all, I had Chinese and a movie and a bit of time with friends and family, I hope everyone else was at least as blessed.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Wishes and Memory, Exposition and Explanation
I have been notably absent from this blog, or at least I have been posting with deeply decreased frequency and at much shorter lengths than previously has been my custom.
There are reasons for this, and there are other reasons for other things as well, which I shall soon detail.
First, on September 15th, 2011, my mother passed from this life, at the age of 91. For the last several years, I was her live-in elder-care provider. Between myself, my sister who lives nearby, and many of mom's friends from the neighborhood and from church, we were able to practice "aging in place" to within months of my mom's final passage. Yet finally her longstanding health issues got to the point where she could no longer live here, and from here she went to hospital and from hospital to rehabilitation where she made insufficient progress. She lived for two months in hospice care at Asbury Methodist Village in Gaithersburg, in excellent conditions and with excellent hospice caretakers, with nearly constant visitation by the same friends and family who made it possible to live for so long at her home of 48 years. One day I came in at my accustomed time, and an unknown woman was waiting in my mom's room. Usually I would arrive at the same time on each of my visiting days, and mom would wake from her after-lunch nap, and we'd talk and I'd make sure she was getting good care and tend to any little needs such as water, and try to get her to finish her lunch, as she was so thin. Yet on this one day, I almost instantly knew that my mother wasn't waking up, not now, nor ever again. I had no warning, and this was something of a shock. Although one may reasonably long expect that the end is near, when it comes, expectation does little to ease the pain.
A memorial service held at St Matthews United Presbyterian Church, here in Aspen Hill, was very well-attended and the eulogy was glowing, and many others stood to remember to the others in attendance.
After cremation, part of her remains were settled in a memorial wall on the church grounds. In her lifetime, my mother was an avid gardener and we have always received many fine compliments on the condition of our lawn and gardens. Mom spent a lot of time in those gardens and the other part of her remains will be spending eternity there. Her scattered ashes even now nourish her plantings and the trees. From the earth we are raised, and to the earth return. Our lives are a blessing and my mother spent much of her life improving the conditions and existence of people around her, and even in faraway places. Her career in government ranged from the Public Health Service through the Environmental Protection Agency, with much of that career spent as administrative support in the study and regulation of sources of radiation. If you are well-protected against radiation in the home and workplace, my mom had a lot to do with the paperwork that makes it so.
The Astute Reader will understand that I may be reasonably expected to be a bit moody. Additionally, Christmas has always been a difficult time for me, as the shortened days and "cabin fever" combine to make me somewhat miserable. In any case, one could only by the most generous inclusion call me a Christian; I was raised as such but I don't have faith in some of the central tenets of the theology, however much I have internalized classical morality. Yet I do have a more than certain faith that after the Winter Solstice, the days will grow longer, and once they reach a certain length, my mood will improve... as much as grief and mourning will allow. I don't feel very festive and have not decorated for the holiday. Perhaps as the solstice grows closer I may put up some holly and ribbons but that's about the extent of it. There is little reason to put up a Christmas tree when you live all alone, and most of the relatives live far out of town.
Additional reasons exist for me being less of a contributor to this page.
One reason is that I am concerned about the audience. There are reasons for this which might seem apparent to the Astute Reader, or to those readers whom I have actually met in real life. Some of those real-life meetings have given me over to a sense of caution in what I post here, and elsewhere. The audience breaks down in a couple of fairly broad fields.
Not wishing to get too personal here, but one of the readers got a little too close for comfort. Generally speaking I am deeply on record, and of long standing, as being supportive of more and better public mental health-care, and more and better consideration by society of persons with even mere "issues".
Yet as much as I am willing to share my opinions online, I am quite the private individual in my personal affairs. I have had exceptionally bad experiences throughout my life which have made me extremely cautious about making new friends or ofttimes even maintaining much association with old ones. Retrospection -- looking backwards with deep reflection -- sometimes suggests that I picked friends unwisely, or simply fell into acquaintanceship and association with people who only later were discerned as being problematic.
Yet there's something to be said for the idea of get-togethers among the folks who have seen each other online for months or years, and back in the days before the internet, I certainly enjoyed "meets" with other people from the then-obscure online world of Bulletin Board Systems ("BBSes"). However, one doesn't always want to spend too much real-life time with them. I know a lot of the folks I met back in those days were surprised to discover that I was desperately poor and could usually afford a beer and some nachos whereas the rest of them could eat a steak dinner and wash it down with lots of the finest imported beer. We moved in different worlds and the intersection of those worlds was online, not in real life. Or not often in real-life.
Other issues could come up as well. Some of the folks turned out to also have very good reasons for spending so much time online, back before most people ever heard of "online". I had my own reasons, to be sure. Poverty was one such; once you had a computer and phone line, BBSing was effectively free and a great and entertaining time-waster. Some folks had... "issues". You didn't mind debating them online, especially as most of BBSing was done under aliases, or noms-de-plume as the French say. However, you might not want to hang out with so-and-so in real life because their parents were sketchy diplomatic types almost certainly skirting the dark and spooky swamps of international relations, and the last thing you'd want is to have the FBI camped on your doorstep asking you if you'd be so kind as to tell them everything you knew or could imagine about your online buddy's family business. You might not want to hang out with such-and-such in real life, because even though they seemed personable enough, their law-firm's staff and partners were widely known to make the most lurid TV soap-operas look tame and sane by comparison.
While on the subject of sanity... there are people you wouldn't want to hang out with in real life, because they're just nuts. I did say that I favor more and better mental healthcare and more tolerance of the mentally-ill among us, but it's just unwise to have any sort of relationship with the sort of person who calls you up at two in the morning to tell you that they're in the psych ward of DC jail because they parked their car on the lawn at the Capitol Building and went manic on the Secret Service uniforms who understandably expressed some concerns about their driving skills. Whatever reputation I may have, I don't need to add to that reputation that I'm close associates with someone sharing the same floor as John Hinckley, Jr. No thank you. Uh-uh. I said "no". Thus, the comments section here is closed to all because of one, and I am additionally rather cautious about revealing information about future locations. It's bad enough getting occasionally stalked at home, though thankfully with this one individual this has mostly stopped.
This brings me to another matter: That was simply the most egregious and blatant individual case of stalking.
I do Neighborhood Watch. This is known to the head of the local Neighborhood Watch, to whom I report and from whom I get bulletins, alerts, etc. This is known to the local police, who helped us organize the Neighborhood Watch under official guidance from the national-level organization.
Even before we officially organized Neighborhood Watch, I've spent years and years sort of keeping an eye on things. Remember, a combination of less than stellar economic conditions and a need to be near home in case my poor old mother needed me, meant that I couldn't have a regular job. I might as well do something productive with my time. I sat on the porch and played a lot of guitar; now and then I'd work with the Mid-County Initiative's "C-SAFE" liaison officer trying to clean up trouble spots here in Aspen Hill.
One aspect of Aspen Hill is this: in a society that may reasonably be viewed by many as having gone batshit crazy, Aspen Hill stands out. There's an immense demographic divide along multiple axes. Most of the caucasians were born in the USA... between 1920 and 1950. Probably most of the african-americans living in the single-family-detached (houses) side of the community started out as Africans and only recently became citizens or have not yet reached that stage. Probably most of the african-americans who were born in the USA live over in the subsidized-housing community where there's a lot of reported crime and school problems. The near-majority is foreign-born adults of child-raising age, primarily of central-american Spanish-speaking origins, although there are lots of other people of other origins. Each of these sub-communities has causes of stress particularly their own, and all of the sub-communities have some degree of friction with the other sub-communities.
In conditions of acute -- or chronic -- stress, people's nerves tend to get frayed, emotions can run high, and misperceptions either subtle or gross can feed into a general mis-comprehension, a sort of increasing disconnection from whatever could be said to be actual reality. It's possible that people -- individually or as groups -- can become so disconnected that in many ways, they are thinking about and reacting to a world which doesn't actually exist in the way they understand it. Ask any psychiatrist about such concepts as moral panic and they'll clarify the notion for you. Ask any policeman about the sort of unrest that can erupt on the basis of rumor.
While we are talking to professionals, let's also stop to talk to some lawyers about the possible results of an intentional defamation, or campaign of defamation. Hell, ask the local politicians if they've ever heard of this sort of thing.
In such conditions, of moral panic, or a campaign of defamation or disinformation, there is -- or should be -- a natural instinct to try to get the facts.
Part of the problem here is that most people aren't very well-schooled on getting the facts. They might simply accept rumors as truth, in which case they have allowed themselves to be deluded. They might hear rumors, and decide to observe for themselves whether or not there's any truth to the rumors. Unfortunately, they might see something which appears to support the rumors... but which has perhaps dozens of other interpretations.
One example: perhaps someone has heard some rumor (and perhaps someone else deliberately started it for fun, profit, revenge, or because they are a sociopath) that I am doing something mysterious in the shed in my back yard. The rumor continues that it might be a meth lab or it might be a bomb factory. Anyone who decided to keep an eye on me might report that rumor as confirmed, since I do fairly frequently go in and out of the shed and I don't visibly store or remove anything. Well, it's true that I do go in and out of that shed for no apparent reason. Frankly, I'm checking to see how well is working my do-it-yourself solar photovoltaic power system.
Another example, more to the point, if I'm standing around on the porch doing Neighborhood Watch in mid-afternoon, someone who has heard a rumor about sexual deviancy could believe that I'm up there spying out potential victims for some child molestation. Yet though there is no truth to the rumor, someone who leaps to conclusions (on the basis of ambiguously-attributable behavior) might report that the rumor is confirmed. Others might hear that confirmation as a certainty and take action. Yet this action would be based on a rumor "confirmed" by a complete idiot.
Neighborhood Watch is intended to bring additional sources of information to the Montgomery County Department of Police. It is not intended to become a gang, or a militia, or home-grown intelligence operation with a clandestine action arm. It's not intended to be used for settling old scores, or for purposes of suppressing political rivalries (real or imagined).
Neighborhood Watch is also intended to foster some sense of community. This is why, when I am out there, I try to engage anyone in conversation that I possibly can, to the extent and degree that seems mutually desirable or appropriate. Among other things, for the purposes of Neighborhood Watch, it's as useful for me to hear "all is well" or "I have no concerns to distract me from enjoying my life" as it is for me to hear "my car window was broken and someone stole my stereo and I want to participate in Neighborhood Watch". Aside from considerations pertinent to Neighborhood Watch, I can think of no activity which will better build "a sense of community" than trying to make friends with as many people in that community as possible.
Now, earlier in this post, I mentioned that I am a bit reticent about befriending anyone, and I imagine that others may feel quite the same. As the English say, mere propinquity is no sure cause for friendship, though one should reasonably expect civility, and offer it as you'd expect it. So I generally will say "hi" to anyone, and if they want to chat, that's fine. If they don't, that's fine. If they want to chat on any matters more profound than the topic of weather, that's fine. If they want to speak about concerns in the neighborhood, that's fine, if they want to talk politics, that's fine.
If, on the other hand, anytime you talk to them, someone else sneaks up behind you like you are intended as a victim and one person is just fronting you up while an assailant gets to your back, you have to wonder where that is coming from. Is this some self-appointed neighborhood vigilante acting out of rumor-fed delusion, seeking to make themselves some sort of hero? Or worse yet, is this a coordinated group activity? If that's the case, I should at this point mention the Maryland Anti-Gang Act of 2010. If this is something that the police and courts could see as violence or the threat of violence, or as witness intimidation, penalties are potentially severe. Maybe it's just distraction and maybe I should just not even try to chat with people, on the theory that the moment I'm known to be distracted by conversation, that's the time to do some crime where I am not looking in that direction.
Yet in any case where I am talking to someone and someone else is sneaking up behind me, except for the case of the self-appointed neighborhood vigilante operating from rumor-fed delusion, I'm dealing with a certain moral turpitude. In the other possible cases, it's hard for me to know whether it's criminal intent by a single actor using the uninvolved passerby as bait, or as a coordinated activity with the passerby intentionally assuming that role, or even organizing it all. In any of these cases, the message I am meant to get, as best I can tell, is that I should not come out of my house, and if I do, I should not try to talk to people. If that message is intentionally thus, and the result of some sort of group consensus, I would love to know some things: who is that group, how and why did they reach that decision, and more of an issue for more official agencies to decide, who gave them the idea that it was allowed for them to try to set traps to let them think they're justified to be judge, jury, and executioner.
So much uncertainty, and so much ambiguity. All I know is that I'm pretty tired of feeling death breathing down my neck not merely when I go shopping, but when I'm standing in my yard mere feet from my door. And it is my yard; my mother kindly left it to me in her uncontested will, along with enough money to hire some really good lawyers.
So perhaps it shouldn't surprise people much that other than this little bit of insight released to the online world, I am shutting down almost all of my online presence. I don't want idiots misinterpreting my writing as "confirmation" of their confabulated misconceptions... and operating from their self-inflicted delusions to form self-appointed vigilante crews looking to murder someone.
There are reasons for this, and there are other reasons for other things as well, which I shall soon detail.
First, on September 15th, 2011, my mother passed from this life, at the age of 91. For the last several years, I was her live-in elder-care provider. Between myself, my sister who lives nearby, and many of mom's friends from the neighborhood and from church, we were able to practice "aging in place" to within months of my mom's final passage. Yet finally her longstanding health issues got to the point where she could no longer live here, and from here she went to hospital and from hospital to rehabilitation where she made insufficient progress. She lived for two months in hospice care at Asbury Methodist Village in Gaithersburg, in excellent conditions and with excellent hospice caretakers, with nearly constant visitation by the same friends and family who made it possible to live for so long at her home of 48 years. One day I came in at my accustomed time, and an unknown woman was waiting in my mom's room. Usually I would arrive at the same time on each of my visiting days, and mom would wake from her after-lunch nap, and we'd talk and I'd make sure she was getting good care and tend to any little needs such as water, and try to get her to finish her lunch, as she was so thin. Yet on this one day, I almost instantly knew that my mother wasn't waking up, not now, nor ever again. I had no warning, and this was something of a shock. Although one may reasonably long expect that the end is near, when it comes, expectation does little to ease the pain.
A memorial service held at St Matthews United Presbyterian Church, here in Aspen Hill, was very well-attended and the eulogy was glowing, and many others stood to remember to the others in attendance.
After cremation, part of her remains were settled in a memorial wall on the church grounds. In her lifetime, my mother was an avid gardener and we have always received many fine compliments on the condition of our lawn and gardens. Mom spent a lot of time in those gardens and the other part of her remains will be spending eternity there. Her scattered ashes even now nourish her plantings and the trees. From the earth we are raised, and to the earth return. Our lives are a blessing and my mother spent much of her life improving the conditions and existence of people around her, and even in faraway places. Her career in government ranged from the Public Health Service through the Environmental Protection Agency, with much of that career spent as administrative support in the study and regulation of sources of radiation. If you are well-protected against radiation in the home and workplace, my mom had a lot to do with the paperwork that makes it so.
The Astute Reader will understand that I may be reasonably expected to be a bit moody. Additionally, Christmas has always been a difficult time for me, as the shortened days and "cabin fever" combine to make me somewhat miserable. In any case, one could only by the most generous inclusion call me a Christian; I was raised as such but I don't have faith in some of the central tenets of the theology, however much I have internalized classical morality. Yet I do have a more than certain faith that after the Winter Solstice, the days will grow longer, and once they reach a certain length, my mood will improve... as much as grief and mourning will allow. I don't feel very festive and have not decorated for the holiday. Perhaps as the solstice grows closer I may put up some holly and ribbons but that's about the extent of it. There is little reason to put up a Christmas tree when you live all alone, and most of the relatives live far out of town.
Additional reasons exist for me being less of a contributor to this page.
One reason is that I am concerned about the audience. There are reasons for this which might seem apparent to the Astute Reader, or to those readers whom I have actually met in real life. Some of those real-life meetings have given me over to a sense of caution in what I post here, and elsewhere. The audience breaks down in a couple of fairly broad fields.
Not wishing to get too personal here, but one of the readers got a little too close for comfort. Generally speaking I am deeply on record, and of long standing, as being supportive of more and better public mental health-care, and more and better consideration by society of persons with even mere "issues".
Yet as much as I am willing to share my opinions online, I am quite the private individual in my personal affairs. I have had exceptionally bad experiences throughout my life which have made me extremely cautious about making new friends or ofttimes even maintaining much association with old ones. Retrospection -- looking backwards with deep reflection -- sometimes suggests that I picked friends unwisely, or simply fell into acquaintanceship and association with people who only later were discerned as being problematic.
Yet there's something to be said for the idea of get-togethers among the folks who have seen each other online for months or years, and back in the days before the internet, I certainly enjoyed "meets" with other people from the then-obscure online world of Bulletin Board Systems ("BBSes"). However, one doesn't always want to spend too much real-life time with them. I know a lot of the folks I met back in those days were surprised to discover that I was desperately poor and could usually afford a beer and some nachos whereas the rest of them could eat a steak dinner and wash it down with lots of the finest imported beer. We moved in different worlds and the intersection of those worlds was online, not in real life. Or not often in real-life.
Other issues could come up as well. Some of the folks turned out to also have very good reasons for spending so much time online, back before most people ever heard of "online". I had my own reasons, to be sure. Poverty was one such; once you had a computer and phone line, BBSing was effectively free and a great and entertaining time-waster. Some folks had... "issues". You didn't mind debating them online, especially as most of BBSing was done under aliases, or noms-de-plume as the French say. However, you might not want to hang out with so-and-so in real life because their parents were sketchy diplomatic types almost certainly skirting the dark and spooky swamps of international relations, and the last thing you'd want is to have the FBI camped on your doorstep asking you if you'd be so kind as to tell them everything you knew or could imagine about your online buddy's family business. You might not want to hang out with such-and-such in real life, because even though they seemed personable enough, their law-firm's staff and partners were widely known to make the most lurid TV soap-operas look tame and sane by comparison.
While on the subject of sanity... there are people you wouldn't want to hang out with in real life, because they're just nuts. I did say that I favor more and better mental healthcare and more tolerance of the mentally-ill among us, but it's just unwise to have any sort of relationship with the sort of person who calls you up at two in the morning to tell you that they're in the psych ward of DC jail because they parked their car on the lawn at the Capitol Building and went manic on the Secret Service uniforms who understandably expressed some concerns about their driving skills. Whatever reputation I may have, I don't need to add to that reputation that I'm close associates with someone sharing the same floor as John Hinckley, Jr. No thank you. Uh-uh. I said "no". Thus, the comments section here is closed to all because of one, and I am additionally rather cautious about revealing information about future locations. It's bad enough getting occasionally stalked at home, though thankfully with this one individual this has mostly stopped.
This brings me to another matter: That was simply the most egregious and blatant individual case of stalking.
I do Neighborhood Watch. This is known to the head of the local Neighborhood Watch, to whom I report and from whom I get bulletins, alerts, etc. This is known to the local police, who helped us organize the Neighborhood Watch under official guidance from the national-level organization.
Even before we officially organized Neighborhood Watch, I've spent years and years sort of keeping an eye on things. Remember, a combination of less than stellar economic conditions and a need to be near home in case my poor old mother needed me, meant that I couldn't have a regular job. I might as well do something productive with my time. I sat on the porch and played a lot of guitar; now and then I'd work with the Mid-County Initiative's "C-SAFE" liaison officer trying to clean up trouble spots here in Aspen Hill.
One aspect of Aspen Hill is this: in a society that may reasonably be viewed by many as having gone batshit crazy, Aspen Hill stands out. There's an immense demographic divide along multiple axes. Most of the caucasians were born in the USA... between 1920 and 1950. Probably most of the african-americans living in the single-family-detached (houses) side of the community started out as Africans and only recently became citizens or have not yet reached that stage. Probably most of the african-americans who were born in the USA live over in the subsidized-housing community where there's a lot of reported crime and school problems. The near-majority is foreign-born adults of child-raising age, primarily of central-american Spanish-speaking origins, although there are lots of other people of other origins. Each of these sub-communities has causes of stress particularly their own, and all of the sub-communities have some degree of friction with the other sub-communities.
In conditions of acute -- or chronic -- stress, people's nerves tend to get frayed, emotions can run high, and misperceptions either subtle or gross can feed into a general mis-comprehension, a sort of increasing disconnection from whatever could be said to be actual reality. It's possible that people -- individually or as groups -- can become so disconnected that in many ways, they are thinking about and reacting to a world which doesn't actually exist in the way they understand it. Ask any psychiatrist about such concepts as moral panic and they'll clarify the notion for you. Ask any policeman about the sort of unrest that can erupt on the basis of rumor.
While we are talking to professionals, let's also stop to talk to some lawyers about the possible results of an intentional defamation, or campaign of defamation. Hell, ask the local politicians if they've ever heard of this sort of thing.
In such conditions, of moral panic, or a campaign of defamation or disinformation, there is -- or should be -- a natural instinct to try to get the facts.
Part of the problem here is that most people aren't very well-schooled on getting the facts. They might simply accept rumors as truth, in which case they have allowed themselves to be deluded. They might hear rumors, and decide to observe for themselves whether or not there's any truth to the rumors. Unfortunately, they might see something which appears to support the rumors... but which has perhaps dozens of other interpretations.
One example: perhaps someone has heard some rumor (and perhaps someone else deliberately started it for fun, profit, revenge, or because they are a sociopath) that I am doing something mysterious in the shed in my back yard. The rumor continues that it might be a meth lab or it might be a bomb factory. Anyone who decided to keep an eye on me might report that rumor as confirmed, since I do fairly frequently go in and out of the shed and I don't visibly store or remove anything. Well, it's true that I do go in and out of that shed for no apparent reason. Frankly, I'm checking to see how well is working my do-it-yourself solar photovoltaic power system.
Another example, more to the point, if I'm standing around on the porch doing Neighborhood Watch in mid-afternoon, someone who has heard a rumor about sexual deviancy could believe that I'm up there spying out potential victims for some child molestation. Yet though there is no truth to the rumor, someone who leaps to conclusions (on the basis of ambiguously-attributable behavior) might report that the rumor is confirmed. Others might hear that confirmation as a certainty and take action. Yet this action would be based on a rumor "confirmed" by a complete idiot.
Neighborhood Watch is intended to bring additional sources of information to the Montgomery County Department of Police. It is not intended to become a gang, or a militia, or home-grown intelligence operation with a clandestine action arm. It's not intended to be used for settling old scores, or for purposes of suppressing political rivalries (real or imagined).
Neighborhood Watch is also intended to foster some sense of community. This is why, when I am out there, I try to engage anyone in conversation that I possibly can, to the extent and degree that seems mutually desirable or appropriate. Among other things, for the purposes of Neighborhood Watch, it's as useful for me to hear "all is well" or "I have no concerns to distract me from enjoying my life" as it is for me to hear "my car window was broken and someone stole my stereo and I want to participate in Neighborhood Watch". Aside from considerations pertinent to Neighborhood Watch, I can think of no activity which will better build "a sense of community" than trying to make friends with as many people in that community as possible.
Now, earlier in this post, I mentioned that I am a bit reticent about befriending anyone, and I imagine that others may feel quite the same. As the English say, mere propinquity is no sure cause for friendship, though one should reasonably expect civility, and offer it as you'd expect it. So I generally will say "hi" to anyone, and if they want to chat, that's fine. If they don't, that's fine. If they want to chat on any matters more profound than the topic of weather, that's fine. If they want to speak about concerns in the neighborhood, that's fine, if they want to talk politics, that's fine.
If, on the other hand, anytime you talk to them, someone else sneaks up behind you like you are intended as a victim and one person is just fronting you up while an assailant gets to your back, you have to wonder where that is coming from. Is this some self-appointed neighborhood vigilante acting out of rumor-fed delusion, seeking to make themselves some sort of hero? Or worse yet, is this a coordinated group activity? If that's the case, I should at this point mention the Maryland Anti-Gang Act of 2010. If this is something that the police and courts could see as violence or the threat of violence, or as witness intimidation, penalties are potentially severe. Maybe it's just distraction and maybe I should just not even try to chat with people, on the theory that the moment I'm known to be distracted by conversation, that's the time to do some crime where I am not looking in that direction.
Yet in any case where I am talking to someone and someone else is sneaking up behind me, except for the case of the self-appointed neighborhood vigilante operating from rumor-fed delusion, I'm dealing with a certain moral turpitude. In the other possible cases, it's hard for me to know whether it's criminal intent by a single actor using the uninvolved passerby as bait, or as a coordinated activity with the passerby intentionally assuming that role, or even organizing it all. In any of these cases, the message I am meant to get, as best I can tell, is that I should not come out of my house, and if I do, I should not try to talk to people. If that message is intentionally thus, and the result of some sort of group consensus, I would love to know some things: who is that group, how and why did they reach that decision, and more of an issue for more official agencies to decide, who gave them the idea that it was allowed for them to try to set traps to let them think they're justified to be judge, jury, and executioner.
So much uncertainty, and so much ambiguity. All I know is that I'm pretty tired of feeling death breathing down my neck not merely when I go shopping, but when I'm standing in my yard mere feet from my door. And it is my yard; my mother kindly left it to me in her uncontested will, along with enough money to hire some really good lawyers.
So perhaps it shouldn't surprise people much that other than this little bit of insight released to the online world, I am shutting down almost all of my online presence. I don't want idiots misinterpreting my writing as "confirmation" of their confabulated misconceptions... and operating from their self-inflicted delusions to form self-appointed vigilante crews looking to murder someone.
Friday, December 2, 2011
Does History Repeat Itself?
I once quoted this anyplace I thought it could be relevant. Mostly I did so during the recent boom or bubble which lasted through much of the mid-2000s. The intent was to get people to look around them and notice that for all of the vast wealth which seemed to be flowing everywhere -- much of it borrowed through obscure financial instruments such as Credit Default Swaps and Commoditized Debt Obligations -- the Romans had once enjoyed such wealth, but did not bother to look beyond the surface to see the rot which lay within... the rot our economy has suffered for the last three or more years.
"It was scarcely possible that the eyes of contemporaries should discover in the public felicity the latent causes of decay and corruption. This long peace, and the uniform government of the Romans, introduced a slow and secret poison into the vitals of the empire. The minds of men were gradually reduced to the same level, the fire of genius was extinguished, and even the military spirit evaporated. The natives of Europe were brave and robust. Spain, Gaul, Britain, and Illyricum, supplied the legions with excellent soldiers, and constituted the real strength of the monarchy. Their personal valour remained, but they no longer possessed that public courage which is nourished by the love of independence, the sense of national honour, the presence of danger, and the habit of command. They received laws and governors from the will of their sovereign, and trusted for their defence to a mercenary army. The posterity of their boldest leaders was contented with the rank of citizens and subjects. The most aspiring spirits resorted to the court or standard of the emperors; and the deserted provinces, deprived of political strength or union, [without much notice] sunk into the languid indifference of private life."
We are a very strong nation with a vast diversity of people with all sorts of talents, skills, abilities, and concerns. Dare we sink into the languid indifference of private life? Where is that public courage? I see people playing this or that little game, within their cadres or between their little factions, but I see few people who are willing to make the necessary sacrifices or take the essential risk of standing up for what they believe, to speak truth to power and demand that power speak truth back to them. Where are our heroes? I guess they're all too busy trying to avoid foreclosure, hanging on to their job even if it's a cesspool of disappointment and abuse. That sort of emotional morass can only deepen in our dire straits, but don't despair, folks. Yet when times are better, will people come out and say "we're not kissing ass so our kids won't starve homeless, anymore"? Will they say "you've got to do something to make sure that never happens again"?
Or will we sink into patronage, into corruption, into public apathy to a political system which increasingly does not provide for or protect them and their decent common interests? That's what happened to the Romans, and it made the Emperors rich and the Army powerful and the citizens destituted and reduced to serfdom. It's the way to go, if you are the One Percent.
We are the 99 Percent. We need to Act Up.
Meanwhile, before the revolution (ideally at the ballot box, and I DO NOT blame Mr Obama), we're all acting like we're in some occupied country, sneaking around whispering and passing signs, and nobody seems to know where anyone else stands, and everyone seems to think that everyone else is either informing, crazy, or both, or ignorant, from the outside, from the opposition, or who-knows what.
Everyone knows I don't get out much, but this might be a good thing. Who is better off when society seems to be rapidly drifting off course, the people who are deeply immersed, or the people who stand back while the lemmings stampede off of their cliff?
Still, here's a clip from one of my favorite bands, and the sane among us will read between the lines.
"It was scarcely possible that the eyes of contemporaries should discover in the public felicity the latent causes of decay and corruption. This long peace, and the uniform government of the Romans, introduced a slow and secret poison into the vitals of the empire. The minds of men were gradually reduced to the same level, the fire of genius was extinguished, and even the military spirit evaporated. The natives of Europe were brave and robust. Spain, Gaul, Britain, and Illyricum, supplied the legions with excellent soldiers, and constituted the real strength of the monarchy. Their personal valour remained, but they no longer possessed that public courage which is nourished by the love of independence, the sense of national honour, the presence of danger, and the habit of command. They received laws and governors from the will of their sovereign, and trusted for their defence to a mercenary army. The posterity of their boldest leaders was contented with the rank of citizens and subjects. The most aspiring spirits resorted to the court or standard of the emperors; and the deserted provinces, deprived of political strength or union, [without much notice] sunk into the languid indifference of private life."
We are a very strong nation with a vast diversity of people with all sorts of talents, skills, abilities, and concerns. Dare we sink into the languid indifference of private life? Where is that public courage? I see people playing this or that little game, within their cadres or between their little factions, but I see few people who are willing to make the necessary sacrifices or take the essential risk of standing up for what they believe, to speak truth to power and demand that power speak truth back to them. Where are our heroes? I guess they're all too busy trying to avoid foreclosure, hanging on to their job even if it's a cesspool of disappointment and abuse. That sort of emotional morass can only deepen in our dire straits, but don't despair, folks. Yet when times are better, will people come out and say "we're not kissing ass so our kids won't starve homeless, anymore"? Will they say "you've got to do something to make sure that never happens again"?
Or will we sink into patronage, into corruption, into public apathy to a political system which increasingly does not provide for or protect them and their decent common interests? That's what happened to the Romans, and it made the Emperors rich and the Army powerful and the citizens destituted and reduced to serfdom. It's the way to go, if you are the One Percent.
We are the 99 Percent. We need to Act Up.
Meanwhile, before the revolution (ideally at the ballot box, and I DO NOT blame Mr Obama), we're all acting like we're in some occupied country, sneaking around whispering and passing signs, and nobody seems to know where anyone else stands, and everyone seems to think that everyone else is either informing, crazy, or both, or ignorant, from the outside, from the opposition, or who-knows what.
Everyone knows I don't get out much, but this might be a good thing. Who is better off when society seems to be rapidly drifting off course, the people who are deeply immersed, or the people who stand back while the lemmings stampede off of their cliff?
Still, here's a clip from one of my favorite bands, and the sane among us will read between the lines.
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