Rings and roses

In 1923, Howard Carter unsealed the burial chamber of Tutankhamun.

In 1943, students belonging to the White Rose Society posted a sign in Munich reading “Out with Hitler! Long Live Freedom!” (They were caught two days later in the midst of another subversive act, and beheaded on the 22nd).

So... I was digging around this morning, looking up some Pope Gregory or other, because I had it in my notes that today was the anniversary of his commandment that his people say "God bless you," after a sneeze, to protect themselves and each other from the oncoming Black Plague.

Not so. We've apparently been blessing each other after sneezing, for longer than that.

But I found something more interesting as I read along. Apparently, everyone's favorite Plague-inspired nursery-rhyme, "Ring Around The Rosey," is not so, either. The Wikipedia entry I've linked to there is fascinating. Amaze your friends! Bore your co-workers!

In the news:
International law was undermined? Hell, if you ask me, the very Rule Of Law was raped, beaten, and left for dead like a -well, like nothing I can say politely. Many authorities believe that crimes were committed on a global scale by governments and private operators alike. It's time for investigation and prosecution.

In fact, we know crimes were committed, because they broadcast them on the news, bragged about them in press conferences, blabbed about them in OpEd columns and from the podiums in our halls of Congress.

The wheel turns

Last day of Lupercalia (ancient Rome).

In 1564, Galileo Galilei was born.

In 1571, Michael Praetorius was born.

In 1764, the city of St. Louis was established as a trading post where Pierre LaClede and his stepson Auguste Chouteau had notched a couple of trees to mark their landing on the bank of the Mississippi.

In 1898, the U.S.S. Maine was blown up in Havana Harbor, now widely believed to have been a false-flag operation intended to start a war with Spain.

In 1905, composer/songwriter Harold Arlen was born (“Paper Moon,” “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” “Stormy Weather,” among some 400 others).

In 1954, Matt Groening was born.

In 2002, over 300 corpses were found in buildings and woods on the property of Tri-State Crematory, in Georgia. Only four years later, Tri-State was implicated in the mis-handling of bodies recovered from Hurricane Katrina by Service Corporation International. The lawsuit accused SCI-owned funeral homes of sending bodies to the unlicensed, unregulated crematorium. Ahh, gotta love that unregulated capitalism, eh?

Happy Sts Cyril and Methodius day!

Today is the Fourteenth of February. Why do we spell 14 "fourteen," but 40 "forty"? It's not a joke, it's a legitimate question. Anyone want to offer an answer?

The number 4o is different from the number 4 in Russian, too, but even more so than in English: for 4, they say "ch-tir'-ee," while for 40 the word is simply "sor'-ok." No apparent semantic relationship: no roots in common, not even any letters in common. I don't speak any other languages- if you speak any aside from English, I'm interested in how they deal with 4 and 40. Ask your friends! Is this just a European thing? Is it just a Romance thing, which happened to somehow also get reflected in a Slavic language? I'm genuinely curious! Also, if you speak Russian and happen to have some insight into the 4/40 thing, I'd love to hear about it.

Support Senator Leahey's Bush Truth Commission! We need to at least air that dirty laundry.

I Hate Banks news: Microbusiness on the rise! This in particular is very exciting news for anyone who's ever disliked banks. Go, Zopa!

Bang the drum

Today is the Eleventh of February. On this day in 1355, the St. Scholastica’s Day Riot continued in Oxford, England, after a dispute between students and locals over a beer escalated into armed conflict. The riot raged for two days in all, leaving 63 scholars and as many as 30 locals dead. The dispute was settled in favour of the university with a special charter, according to which, on February 10, the town mayor and councillors had to march bareheaded through the streets and pay to the university a fine of one penny for every scholar killed. The penance ended in 1825 when the mayor refused to take part.

In 1858, Bernadette Soubirous saw the figure of a woman in white, whom she later identified as the virgin Mary, near Lourdes, France. The two girls who were with her, saw nothing.

Bang the drum-make some noise! It's good for you! ...I wonder if it matters if the rhythm isn't musical? I mean, does it count if you're just drumming your fingers on the steering wheel? Would it help as much if you were using a wooden spoon on a frying pan? How about a metal spoon on a cymbal? Don't laugh- this is someone's doctoral thesis waiting to happen! Alas, I'm only curious enough to generate the questions; nowhere near motivated enough to go through with the research. Music therapy isn't exactly my field.

Instead, I'm thinking about picking up my work on -yes, you guessed it-- Moche nose ornaments again. Actually, new findings re: the Nazca have given my old theory new life. Remember, Ted: don't get it right; get it written.

Feast of St. Carmen

Today is the Ninth of February. On this day in 1825, John Quincy Adams was elected President, in the first election to be decided by the U.S. House of Representatives.

In 1895, Wm. G. Morgan invented a game called Mintonette, for those who thought basketball would be too strenuous. This game involved hitting the basketball over a rope; it would later be known as Volleyball.

In 1909, Carmen Miranda was born.

In 1913, a group of three or four luminous bodies with tails moved across the sky with a 'peculiar majestic deliberation', according to the Journal of the Royal Astronomical Society of Canada. Another one followed, and another. There were 30 or 32 in all, according to one observer, in strict formation. Some compared them to a fleet of battleships in the air. They were seen in Canada, USA, Bermuda and from the sea. There was another procession over Toronto the next day, only this time there were seven or eight dark non-luminous bodies, which moved across the sky and back.

Sardines

Waitangi Day (New Zealand- marking the 1840 signing of a Maori-Britain treaty).

In 1564, Christopher Marlowe was (probably) born.

In 1895, George Herman “Babe” Ruth was born.

In 1945, Bob Marley was born.

In 1989, thousands of tiny dead sardines came down in a heavy rainstorm about lunchtime in Rosewood, near Ipswich in Queensland. 'It was quite frightening. We didn't know what was happening. All I heard was a noise I though was hail,' said Debra Degen. When her husband Harold called her to go out onto the veranda, she saw the fishy carpet stretching for 50 yards between the house and their mailbox. There were more coming down, some bouncing off Harold's head. They gathered a bowlful for their cat and to keep as a souvenir; the rest were 'gobbled by kookaburras.'


Sage advice from Paul Krugman.

The world of tomorrow

Got milk?

Today is the Fourth of February. Scott Palmer, 26, Californian author and golfer, hit a hole-in-one 18 times between June 1983 and the following January. Besides that, his drives hit the pin on 50 other occasions. He collected affidavits to this from 65 witnesses. Four of his holes-in-one came on consecutive days in October, seven were par-4 holes and the average length of all 18 was 209 yards. He hit all but one of his aces with the same ball - a Spalding Top Flite XL No. 2, for which he turned down a £7,000 offer. At the moment of his charmed strokes, he got the image of a faceless woman pouring a glass of milk.

Weird.

Buddy Holly-day

Today is the Third of February. On this day in 1943, four US Army chaplains aboard the then-sinking USAT Dorchester gave up their lifevests, and their lives, to save the lives of other soldiers and sailors aboard. In 1948, Congress recognized their heroism and designated today as Four Chaplains Day.

In 1809, Felix Mendelssohn was born.

In 1959, Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and J.P. “The Big Bopper” Richardson were killed in an airplane accident.

Endings

Today is the Thirtieth of January. Big day in history, though you might not know it: to begin with, in 1661, Oliver Cromwell was officially, formally executed. He had been dead for over two years. Just in case, ya know. He was a bit of a rascal.

In 1835, Richard Lawrence attempted to assassinate President Andrew Jackson, but both his pistols misfired. President Jackson instead beat him with his cane. This was the first known assassination attempt on a U.S. President.

In 1882, Franklin Delano Roosevelt was born.

In 1948, Mohandas K. (Mahatma) Gandhi was shot and killed.

In 1969, The Beatles performed together for the last time, in an impromptu concert on the roof of Apple Studios, London, at No. 3 Saville Row. It was broken up by police, because of the traffic problems it caused on the streets below (go figure!).

In more current news, the Danish Air Force has opened its UFO archives to the public.

And a UFO was documented by Germany's air traffic safety office.

And Israeli Prime Minister Olmert was taken to task at Davos by Prime Minister Erdogan of Turkey, before he left the building in disgust. (Good video).

Owls for breakfast, hippos for lunch

Today is the Twenty-eighth of January. On this day in 1887, snowflakes measuring 15” across x 8” thick fell on Fort Keough, Montana.

Someone's come up with a very interesting answer to the honeybee problem. I hereby promise to leave the hornets' nest in the eaves of my shop, alone. Pollinate away, little critters! Fly! Be free!

And here's an interesting answer to our energy troubles, at least to some degree. Go, Norway!

Alberto Gonzales is a worm. Watch him squirm. Disgusting.

Bring on the shackles, indeed: let's watch these guys squirm too. Jail is too good for the likes of these folks, 'cos I don't think there's much doubt about their guilt anymore.

Future pink

Today is the Twenty-seventh of January. On this day in 1757, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was born.

In 1832, Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (Lewis Carroll) was born.

In 1947, the Los Angeles Times (and later, Time magazine) reported that the crew of the oiler USS Caliente weighed anchor from nine fathoms and discovered that an overhand or lover's knot had been tied in the chain twenty feet from the anchor.

In 1984, filming for a Pepsi commercial went terribly awry when Michael Jackson’s hair product caught on fire.

Computers serve two basic purposes, in terms of economy: they create demand for more disposable goods (computers, programs, accessories), and they reduce the need for new employees by facilitating paperwork and book-keeping. More jobs are lost to computers, than created by building them or programming for them (and that's to say nothing of work lost to computer-controlled robots, eliminating jobs at twice that rate, or higher). Different kinds of work, to be sure, but employment all the same. The net effect is a loss of jobs. Computers just aren't helping.

Teaching kids to use computers in school is early job-training. Worse- it's free job training for industry, because business taxes rarely (if ever) go to schools. Ask yourself: why should you pay for your kid to be trained to do data entry? Even if they're learning to code: don't fool yourself- the days of madly-wealthy computer programmers are gone-daddy-gone. Ahh, the roaring dot-com Nineties! They're as gone as the roaring Twenties.

We should not give them computers in school- we should give them classes that teach them to use tools that make things and fix things: wood shop, metal shop, plastics, even electronics shop; cooking, accounting, home economics, sewing, design ferchrissake. They should be using their abundant imaginations to be making new things and developing skills that will be usable "across multiple platforms"- what we used to call being handy. It's a good thing to be, useful. Java, flash, and C++ are not usable across multiple platforms: they are skills related to a very, very limited range of jobs. They will not help your kid when the power goes out and he still needs to eat, or when the alternator goes out in her car when she's between jobs, or when the kitchen table, the toaster, or the TV goes down.

Bottom line: teaching kids to use computers will not help them do anything except find a job as a desk jockey or a 10-key operator. Is that really what you want for your children? A career as a Customer Service Specialist at a call center? That's what's coming, if we stay on this track. Mark my words.

This much is certain: there is no going back to our consumption-driven way of life. We simply have to change: economy will demand it. Businesses can not think of themselves first as profit-making machines- they must reconsider their places within their communities (of whatever size). A business is inseparable from its community, in the same way that your hand is inseparable from your body.

That's a better metaphor than you might think, actually. If the body represents a community, then the blood is its money, the brain its government, the heart its industry. Wait a sec, you might say- where is the service sector? We here in the US are all about service sector jobs, after all. In terms of the body, the service sector would be things like the immune system, the glandular organs, the skeletal system. In other words, a very significant -but very small (in terms of volume) segment.

Now, in terms of this metaphor, what the hell has happened with our economy? Think of it this way: growing population means a growing body. When the body grows but the blood supply doesn't match its growth, then blood becomes more precious (prices go up). The credit crisis? Something in the body (the banks; our veins and arteries I suppose) decided that the flow of blood wasn't fast enough (because, of course, population has grown while manufacturing capability has dwindled- the body grew but the skeleton hasn't produced the blood to fill it), so they demanded more than they were giving. Organs couldn't keep up with the demand- they can't pump more blood out than they get in, and they can't make it themselves-- so they atrophied as a result (homeowners defaulted on mortgages, businesses defaulted on payrolls, millions of jobs lost).

The problem is that money is pooling, not flowing. Blood clots in the brain and heart are threatening the health of our national community (execs are pulling in oversized salaries and not spending the money locally, ultimately leaving banks in the lurch). We need manufacturing jobs- jobs that produce real goods and real wealth. In a short time, this will stimulate spending and buying- and saving! --because there will be things worth buying, and people earning paychecks to buy the stuff with. Blood will fill our veins; savings rates will start to rise again, banks will be happy, and credit will loosen up again.

Now let's get back to the new economy -the one that will work for your kids and grandkids, the one we need to build. Disposability is simply no longer an option. Our landfills are -well, filled. Most of the stuff we use today can't even be safely disposed of in a landfill anyway, yet frankly was made to be thrown away. Raw materials are dwindling, and rising in cost. Disposability is not a sustainable way of life, and we're coming up against the final wall.

We need to demand reliable appliances, fixable appliances, and to settle for nothing less. Industry, instead of preparing to meet those demands, is running in the opposite direction: making goods that are cheaper to buy at first but more expensive in the long run because you're buying three disposable items for every one fixable item you might have bought instead. This amounts to a race to the bottom, as GE, Sony, Philips, etc, run themselves into the ground. In ten years, these industries will be hemmoraging, as consumers revolt by buying from more local, more accessible companies whose products are more reliable and ultimately repairable. Pink slips will flow by the thousands as these huge manufacturers of crappy 'goods' have to cut back. This is the economic crisis to come, and there's no stopping it: the only thing we can do is change course, now.

Bright new day

Today is the Twenty-first of January. It's National Hugging Day.

In 1824, Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson was born.

In 1924, Vladimir I. Lenin died. Almost immediately, Josef Stalin began to purge his rivals, to clear his way to Premiership.

On the home front, this is encouraging news from the Obama administration. I can't think of a better way to start. Realistically, anyway.

Don't stop: just keep running.

Today is the Nineteenth of January. On this day in 1808, Lysander Spooner was born.
In 1809, Edgar Allen Poe was born.
In 1839, Paul Cezanne was born.

In 1935, the first brief was displayed in a Marshal-Fields department store window in Chicago, during a blizzard. The display was ordered to be taken down because it was silly to show such skimpy underwear on such a cold day, but before the display could even be taken down, six hundred pairs were sold. Thirty thousand would be sold in the next three months. The world would never be the same.

In 1977, snow fell in Miami, Florida, and the Bahamas. First time ever.

You know, I am optimistic about Obama's presidency, but I'm no fool. In spite of my rhetoric here, I am realistic about the future.

I'm not expecting single-payer, universal coverage health care. No, the homeless and poor are still going to suffer and die of ultimately-curable illnesses.

I'm not expecting gay marriages. I'm not expecting a roll-back of Bush's abuses of the environment, or of the Endangered Species Act, or marked improvements in air quality, or water quality, or even gender equality in the workplace.

I'm not expecting him to handle Afghanistan any better either: he has, after all, promised to "win" there, whatever that means (hint to President Obama: ask Alexander the Great about central Asia).

I'm just excited because -for the first time ever-- we have a visible, tangible reason to believe that anyone can make it here.

When you hear the dogs behind you, just keep running.


That being said about my beliefs, I remain fascinated by, but agnostic about UFOs, especially in light of the recent flap of sightings. I'm so intrigued by them: if they are from space, then that's interesting in and of itself. And if they're not from space, then that's more interesting still: what the hell are they? If they're illusionary or hallucinations, then what is it in the human makeup that makes us see them? And then makes us interpret those visions as Visitors from Space? And if they're not hallucinations or visions or visitors from space, then what the hell are they? Honestly people, I can't see how anyone could not be interested.

Here's another.

"Playing into each other's noses" he said.

No, I can't keep my mouth shut: news happens, and I feel compelled to talk about it, even though I said I was ignoring it until Tuesday. First and foremost: North Korea is actively threatening South Korea. It's not a conflict I follow closely, but hey, nuclear weapons are everybody's business. We all need to know.

Today is the Eighteenth of January. On this day in 1671, Captain Morgan captured Panama from the Spanish.

In 1843, a report appeared in The Times (London) that two young girls were out picking leaves at Livet in France when stones of different colors showered down on them, slowly and harmlessly. They called their parents, and stones fell on them too. Respectable witnesses were called, priests, doctors, and all were gently and colorfully stoned (sic). It only happened in one spot, and only when the girls were there. After a few days it stopped.

In 1892, Oliver Hardy was born.
In 1904, Cary Grant was born.
In 1913, Danny Kaye was born.
In 1932, Robert Anton Wilson was born.

In 1943, Soviet officials announced that they had broken the Nazi-led siege of Leningrad (started Sept. 8, 1941- some 900 days!).

In 1964, “I Want to Hold Your Hand” entered the Billboard pop chart at #45, marking the entrance of The Beatles to the U.S. market. It would be at #1 by the end of the month.

A letter to Obama that I wish I could co-sign (a bit long, but worth it). I'm optimistic, but not foolish.

Just keep swimming

Today is the Sixteenth of January. On this day in 1547, Ivan Grozny ('the Terrible;' the IVth Ivan) proclaimed himself first Tsar of Russia.

In 1605, the first edition of Book One of Don Quixote was published.

It's been a long eight years. I still get apoplectic when I think about the 2000 selection, ferchrissake. It's been a long eight years, and that's all I'm going to say about it, right now.

I'll breathe more easily after the inauguration. I've felt like I was in limbo since the first of the month. Sure, you're thinking "whoaa, he's taking this all way too seriously," and maybe you're right, but I've just got a lot of (metaphorical) balls in the air right now (juggling balls -get your head out of the bed, sheesh), and I'm waiting to see which ones come down first. Of course I'm optimistic about the new administration and the new congress, but I'm also optimistic about the projects I've got going, and their prospects in the new year and the phoenix of our economy.

News is on hold.

Today is the Fifteenth of January. As far as I'm concerned, the news is on hold until some time next week. Citibank breaking up to better face the crumbling economy, you say? My retort, complete with my fingers in my ears:

"LA LA LA LA LA! I CAN'T HEAR YOU...."

I know that a new administration won't turn the economy around overnight. I know that a President Obama won't instantly restore bankers' faith in borrowers, and that even with a Democratic-controlled Congress, real legislative change will not be coming in a hurry...

but...

I do know that the mere presence of a good leader can do a lot for morale. And further, I know that morale is very closely related to faith, and to confidence. Faith (that cash will once again flow) and confidence (on the part of banks, regarding their clients' ability to pay them back in a timely manner, as well as confidence in our leadership) are at the core of our economic difficulties right now.

More importantly in the short term, though, is the sense of optimism and possibility that Obama seems to signify to so many. That hope and optimism will start to show, almost immediately. It will be the first sign of the Big Thaw.

It will start out subliminal: maybe a little more courtesy between strangers, a little more patience on the roads. Maybe tithing will go up. I suspect that bars, restaurants and grocery stores will feel it first, as the most-common-denominators of our culture. That money- a significant amount of it in the form of cash tips-- will spread out into the wider mercantile culture and stimulate other businesses. Bigger changes will have to be helped along from above: banks will need to free up credit for businesses so those businesses can expand their payrolls again, but that will happen as sales go up again. Good, healthy changes are on the way. I can feel it.

And- oh this is the best part-- the Rule of Law might just prevail again. I say "might," because I'm almost afraid to hope, for fear of disappointment. It is the government, after all.

And yeah, I know I said the news is on hold, but this caught my attention, and it seems like it could develop into something important. It always seems just a bit strange when a denial precedes the accusation.

Whatever else happens, we still have to cope with our national shame: a legacy of torture.


On this day in 1919, a "tidal wave" of two-and-a-half million gallons of molasses killed 21 people in Boston.


Recent British UFO flap, condensed version

Remarkably similar events reported in Indonesia and Argentina

V-shaped craft low flying over Chicago

Sit right back and you'll hear a tale...

Oh geez, it's already the Ninth of January. On this day in 1683, Charles II set aside the day for the ceremony of Touching for the King's Evil (a sort of scrofula, or suppurating tumour), so called from a notion prevailing from the reign of Edward the Confessor that it could be cured by the royal touch.

In 1905, some 200,000 Russians rallied behind Father Georgiy Gapon to present their grievances to Tsar Nikolas II. Troops on the scene panicked and fired into the crowd, igniting the 1905 revolution which broke the Tsar’s hold on power. He consented to the adoption of a constitution, and election of a Duma to advise him. (Julian calendar date).

In 1935, Bob Denver was born. I had a strange and unflagging fascination with Gilligan's Island as a kid. I had more than one dream in which I was Gilligan on the show. And I never dreamed about any other TV show. Can you say, "fixation"? Maybe the island setting reminded me of Montserrat (we didn't live in grass huts or sleep in hammocks though). Maybe it just appealed to my radical jungle hippie, back-to-nature, almost-anarcho-primitivist freaky style, I don't know. I still sing snippets of their "Hamlet," as set to "Carmen." To myself, of course. ...Neither a borrower nor a lender be/ Do not forget- stay out of debt...

Sign of the times?
More on it here, and a more prosaic explanation offered here. I notice there's no reportage on the condition of the blades; whether or not they show evidence of impact. Watch the video though, and tell me what you think. Also, my knowledge of geography of the UK is somewhat limited- but is this related?

...There's just one other thing/
You ought to do-/
To thine own self be true!

Distaff day

Today is 7 January (already!?). It's Distaff day: Get back to work, woman! Traditional day in many European cultures on which women get back to “women’s work” after the Yule festivities.

In 1598, Fyodor I of Russia died. Fyodor was the only surviving son of Ivan IV ('the Terrible'), and was -well-- an imbecile. It's an interesting date because Boris Godunov, who had been acting as Regent since Ivan's death, took this opportunity to fully assume the throne. Fyodor’s only son Dmitri had died under somewhat mysterious circumstances in 1591; when Fyodor himself died, Boris took the throne until his death in 1605. Godunov's 16-year old son then assumed the throne as Fyodor II, but was imprisoned and murdered six months later by representatives of someone who fashioned himself Dmitri Fyodorovich (son of Fyodor I). He lasted six months before the Boyars killed him too. Welcome to the Time of Troubles. Maybe the W years weren't so bad....

In 1899, Francis Poulenc was born.

In 1904, the distress signal “CQD” was established. Two years later, it would be replaced by “SOS.”

Put out the light.

Today is 6 January. Rastas celebrate Haille Sellasie’s birthday today, though it's not actually his birthday (reminds one a bit of Christmas, no?).

In 1883, Khalil Gibran was born.

In 1915, Alan Watts was born.

In 1919, Teddy Roosevelt died. His last words: “Put out the light.”

In more current news:
The truth about snowmen
The truth about pirates

White knot?

As my friend Kevin would say, it's a meaningless gesture, but hey- can't hurt, right?
Go ahead, tie one on.

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.

Thawing, melting

Today is the Twenty-sixth of December. Forget Boxing Day-- Wren Day sounds more fun, and Junkanoo might be even more fun than that.

In 1791, Charles Babbage was born.

In 1893, Mao Tse Tung was born.

In 1921, Steve Allen was born.

In 2004, a tsunami was caused by an earthquake off the coast of Sumatra. Over 200,000 people were killed.

Blood diamonds; blood gadgets. The cost of that convenience may turn out to be the existence of wild gorillas. Doesn't seem worth it, to me.