Insert pun here

Dead Soles? Of course I had to say something. Forget the rains of frogs and fish and corn and what-not: this is the best Fortean event, ever. No one knows where they came from. Apparently no one saw them fall? Who would load a truck up with used shoes, anyway? I wonder if they were in pairs. I wonder if any of them belong to any of those feet that keep washing up on the shores of British Columbia? Wrong ocean, I know, but when you're dealing with events like this, can you really rule anything out?

Yellowstone

Today is the Thirtieth of December. On this day in 1865, Rudyard Kipling was born.

In 1922, the USSR was formed.

In 1978, two large geese prevented customers from entering the Birdhouse Inn in Edinburgh. After they had chased away customers all morning, the manager was able to lure them into a van with cheese sandwiches.


It's probably nothing, but still- Yellowstone caldera is a real hot spot. When it goes up, as it will at some point-- it's going to be big.

Elephants in the room

Today is the Twenty-ninth of December. I can feel the days getting longer, already. On this day in 1852, Emma Snodgrass was arrested in Boston for wearing pants.

And in 1936, Mary Tyler Moore was born.

Interesting idea here. Not entirely sure I agree, but by the same token, I'm not entirely convinced that it couldn't (or won't) happen. After all, no one took seriously the possibility that the USSR could collapse, in 1988. The part I really don't agree with, is Panarin's assertion of foreign control over what's left. Cute, maybe even quaint, but Canada's history hardly suggests a future as a colonial power, and Mexican control of Texas is -well, at this point, laughable. Mexico can't even control Tijuana, not to mention Chihuahua, or Chiapas.

Still, how might this come to pass? Panarin offers some theories, but one thing he doesn't consider is the impending water crisis. The entire southwest quarter of the United States is problematic in this sense: it is a desert by any standard, populated relatively densely by people who are very fond of green lawns (which need a lot of water) and swimming pools. Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Phoenix... all of these major urban centers get their water from the Colorado River. At one time the largest river west of the Rockies, the Colorado River is now so diverted for agricultural, industrial and personal use that it no longer reaches the sea. In some sense, we have reached its limit -our limit. Any further growth in the region now is tentative and completely reliant on borrowed time. We're looking at a future water bubble, and the inevitable crash is not going to be strictly financial. There will be blood. Right here in river city.

But it's a big world, and we don't exist in a vacuum. What happens in Africa, Iceland, the Caucasus, the Carribbean, and the Hindu Kush, is going to have a big effect on what happens in the U.S. over the next couple of years. China is already heavily invested in Africa, and is increasing its presence in South- and Central America- oil and agriculture weigh heavy on Chinese minds these days as its population begins to exceed its ability to provide for itself (nascent colonialism). Canada is building multiple new naval bases on their Arctic coastline. An independent Greenland (with reserves of both petroleum and fresh water) would change the political dynamic of the Arctic, Europe, and NATO alike.

It may be a big world, but resources are limited. Populations are generally not inclined to limit themselves passively, and we all need the same things, so heightened conflict is coming. The only question is, when?

If it's possible to avert this scenario, it will be through slow and natural population reduction. Homosexuality is the answer: we don't make babies. And yes, I'm a recruiter. Sign up now!

Happy winter!

Today is the Twenty-eighth of December. On this day in 1832, Vice President John Calhoun resigned, due to difficulties with the President, Andrew Jackson.

In 1849, M. Jean Baptiste Jolly discovered dry-cleaning with a little help from his maid, when she spilled a mixture of turpentine and oil on his dirty clothes and he noticed a cleaning effect.

In 1869, William Semple filed the first patent application for chewing gum, though he didn't invent it.

In 1889, F.W. Murnau was born.

In 1895, the Lumiere brothers had their first paying audience for their motion pictures, at the Grand Café.

I may never fly again. Right before the storms hit here, I rode the train down to San Jose to see my friend John. He had offered to give me his old car if I could drive it home, so off I went. It was a great excuse to get away and see a good friend.

But as I said, I may never fly again. Riding on the train was a blast. From the very beginning it was nice: even the architecture of the train station was comforting somehow- details to take in everywhere, so unlike airport architecture (designed to keep you looking straight ahead and moving along like cattle in a slaughterhouse). I stood in line for about a minute until I reached the ticket counter, where the clerk printed my ticket and directed me to another queue. This one was a long one; I expected to be waiting there for an hour, but it moved quickly and within ten minutes I was crossing the tracks to my train, seat number in hand.

If you haven't ridden on an Amtrak train, they might surprise you. Seating is very roomy- I'm not sure I could have reached the seat in front of mine with my feet, while sitting down. Lots of room overhead. The bathrooms were spacious too. And unlike the Balkan Express, Amtrak trains have running, potable water on board. Not to mention a dining car AND a snack bar. With beer and wine!

Not enough room in your seat? Or maybe you don't like who you're sitting next to? Take a walk to to the lounge car- big huge windows, and even roomier seats -these facing out so you can take in the scenery without turning your head. It's like a moving coffee house (coffee available downstairs in the snack bar). One guy was just sitting there, sketching other passengers and giving them the sketches.

Never mind that it took 19 hours. It was 19 pleasant, effortless hours during which I didn't have to worry about airport security, getting bumped to another flight, missing my flight because my connecting flight was late or canceled, losing my luggage, losing my lunch due to turbulence, outrageous ticket prices, confusing airport design, being treated like livestock, not making it off the runway or tumbling out of the sky. Or even getting uncomfortable in my seat, because you can walk around the train all you want.

And it was only a little late getting in to San Jose.

John and I had a great time; it has been way too long since we got to really hang out. We drove in to San Francisco after he showed me their house. We had a little lunch in the Castro district, then explored a little more before we found the park where the hang-gliders play. We poked around there for a few minutes, met an older guy who answered some questions we had, before one guy strapped his glider on and walked up to the edge of the cliff. I guess the wind that day wasn't ideal, so he stood there for a few minutes gauging it, flexing his knees, and then he just started running toward the edge of the cliff. Step, step, step ...then he was flying, right there. I think it might have been the most beautiful thing I've ever seen a human do. To this day, I don't have the words to describe it. I'm not sure I could do it myself, but I'd love to watch again. Incredible.

We drove across the Golden Gate with the top down. It was a little chilly, but very sunny in the city, so that was great.

He even got me to play a video game, believe it or not. Yes, I played "rock band," and I have to admit, it was really fun. I did not know how social and interactive a video game could be; now I'm perhaps not quite so anti as I was. Don't get your panties in a bunch though- I'm not running out to buy a Wii or anything, and my (nearly antique) GameBoy Advance (or whatever it's called) is still packed away safely, and not going anywhere, haha.

I had to leave the next morning, ready or not. John had work to do (and a volunteer art-teaching gig at his daughters' school), and I had to get home in time to meet Jeremy at the Portland airport. Storms were hitting the Oregon-Washington coast as I left San Jose, so I knew that the trip home might be tricky. Reports from northern California/southern Oregon said lots of snow, so I ended up buying tire cables in some little town just south of the mountains in California.

I drove in to the mountains expecting the worst, though the weather in the valley was clear and relatively warm. Turns out, it stayed that way well into the mountains- clear skies, and though there was a lot of snow on the ground, there was almost none on the road. Until Oregon, anyway.

Almost as soon as I crossed the border, the weather turned, but it didn't get really bad until I passed Salem or so. After that, the roads started to get snowy and icy, but the main issue was traffic. I hadn't thought about it before, but I realized that I-5 is the only north-south corridor west of the Rockies and north of Sacramento, so everybody driving north in Oregon was on I-5 at the same time, and I think they were all rushing to get home to Portland. More than even the snowy mountain roads, that part of I-5 was the part that made me think I might not make it home.

But I thought about Phil, and Kava and Socrates and even Raoul; I imagined myself pulling up to the house and unlocking the front door, and soon enough, there I was. It might have been the happiest solstice ever.