January brings too much ICE

I have a technical issue for your consideration this week. It has to do with equipment for Constitutional Observers. (If you missed the news, Minnesota is now the base for almost 2,500 ICE and Border Patrol enforcers.) To be most useful, Observer digital recordings should identify both the location where and the date and time when recorded. As far as I know, my iPhone captures both items automatically. My non-phone digital cameras record the date and time but not the location. Cautionary guidance suggests leaving cell phones at home if at a protest so the federal government can't track you to your home or work place. So the question becomes, how to best incorporate accurate locational information into digital videos or photos? I don't have a good answer at the moment. Please feel free to offer suggestions in the comments.

January brings snow jobs and ICE coverups

Photo by J. Harrington

Please, if you haven't already, mark your calendar for the Free America Walkout on January 20, a week from this coming Tuesday. According to the 50501 web site:

A walkout is a form of nonviolent noncooperation. That sounds academic, but the idea is that modern power depends on people showing up, complying, producing, and buying as if everything is fine. Noncooperation is what it looks like when people stop doing that together, on purpose, without violence.

 Because the Better Half and I are aware that our adult son is deeply concerned about what's been going on, and going wrong, in the world and this country, and not just because several of the regime's attacks may affect and reduce the supports he relies on as a person with disabilities, I started to look for ways he might be able to participate in the Walkout from his wheelchair. In the process of poking around the internet, I came across a book that may be relevant to him. Here's a link to the Kirkus review of Disability Visibility, Alice Wong, editor. It may be relevant to some of you in these troubled times since "The editor notes that, according to the most recent U.S. census, 20% of citizens in the country live with a disability."

Our troubled times are making me think about the history I learned in school about the capitalists siccing their hired guns (Pinkertons) on union organizers, much like ICE attacks on the persons in Minnesota and the rest of US. That made me think of today's "poem," the lyrics of a song by Pete Seeger, who's been known to speak truth to power a number of times.

Which Side Are You On 

[Verse 1]
Come all of you good workers
Good news to you I'll tell
Of how the good ol' union
Has come in here to dwell

[Chorus]
Which side are you on?
Which side are you on?

[Verse 2]
My daddy was a miner
And I'm a miner's son
And I'll stick with the union
'Til every battle's won

[Chorus]
Which side are you on?
Which side are you on?

[Verse 3]
They say in Harlan County
There are no neutrals there
You'll either be a union man
Or a thug for J. H. Blair

See upcoming rock shows

Get tickets for your favorite artists

[Chorus]
Which side are you on?
Which side are you on?

[Verse 4]
Oh, workers can you stand it?
Oh, tell me how you can
Will you be a lousy scab
Or will you be a man?

[Chorus]
Which side are you on?
Which side are you on?

[Verse 5]
Don't scab for the bosses
Don't listen to their lies
Us poor folks haven't got a chance
Unless we organize

[Chorus]
Which side are you on?
Which side are you on?
Which side are you on?
Which side are you on?

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United we stand, despite our differences?

There are 50 days until Election Day. The amount of trashy attack adds in increasing. The adds may diminish after the election but will the attacks? Early voting starts in four days. Are you ready to decide? Some are planning to vote a straight  party ticket, regardless of candidate qualifications. Those voters make me concerned about the emphasis placed on our “right to vote.” Aren’t rights supposed to be accompanied by responsibilities? Shouldn’t voters be responsible for knowing whether the candidates for whom they’re casting a vote are capable and qualified to fulfill the office?

For example, according to “Article II, Section 1, Clause 5:

No Person except a natural born Citizen, or a Citizen of the United States, at the time of the Adoption of this Constitution, shall be eligible to the Office of President; neither shall any Person be eligible to that Office who shall not have attained to the Age of thirty five Years, and been fourteen Years a Resident within the United States.” 

Those are pretty sparse qualifications for such a significant position. Look at some of the consequences that’s brought about. People with memories so short or faulty they don’t even remember, or didn’t know, the Constitution they swore to uphold got to be chief executive of one of the most powerful countries to ever exist.

should farmers only grow corn and soybeans?

Photo by J. Harrington

We’re facing comparable problems in Minnesota with statewide positions and many of the Legislative and Congressional races. There are more and more folks who no longer support separation of church and state. There are those who fail to understand that “might makes right” is antithetical to living under a government of laws, not men. They seem to forget that pendulums swing in both directions, right and left. Intolerance for others tends toward monoculture. Increasing numbers of studies demonstrate that loss of diversity weakens an ecosystem. Isn’t it likely something similar is true of a country, state, or community? Would you want to eat vanilla ice cream, three times a day, forever?

Trail of Tears: Our Removal

By Linda Hogan

With lines unseen the land was broken.

When surveyors came, we knew

what the prophet had said was true,

this land with unseen lines would be taken.

So, you who live there now,

don't forget to love it, thank it

the place that was once our forest,

our ponds, our mosses,

the swamplands with birds and more lowly creatures.

As for us, we walked into the military strength of hunger

and war for that land we still dream.

As the ferry crossed the distance,

or as the walkers left behind their loved ones,

think how we took with us our cats and kittens,

the puppies we loved. We were innocent of what we faced,

along the trail. We took clothing, dishes,

thinking there would be something to start a new life,

believing justice lived in the world,

and the horses, so many,

one by one stolen, taken by the many thieves

So have compassion for that land at least.

Every step we took was one away from the songs,

old dances, memories, some of us dark and not speaking English,

some of us white, or married to the dark, or children of translators

the half-white, all of us watched by America, all of us

longing for trees for shade, homing, rooting,

even more for food along the hunger way.

You would think those of us born later

would fight for justice, for peace,

for the new land, its trees being taken.

You would think

the struggle would be over

between the two worlds in this place

that is now our knowledge,

our new belonging, our being,

and we'd never again care for the notion of maps

or American wars, or the god of their sky,

thinking of those things we were forced to leave behind,

living country, stolen home,

the world measured inch by inch, mile by mile,

hectares, all measurements, even the trail of our tears.

With all the new fierce light, heat, drought

the missing water, you'd think

in another red century, the old wisdom

might exist if we considered enough

that even before the new beliefs

we were once whole,

but now our bodies and minds remain

the measured geography.

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Resources for Independence Day

Yesterday afternoon, three hen wild turkeys used some bare spots in our back yard as dust baths. Meanwhile, another handful of birds were pecking away at the top of the hill. No signs of poults yet.

This morning we enjoyed a brief visit by a whitetail doe and her twin fawns. Yesterday, two does, unaccompanied by fawns, stopped by. Unfortunately, the dominant wildlife this month remains biting insects like mosquitos and deer flies.

whitetail with older fawns, late July

Photo by J. Harrington

There are at least two male red-winged blackbirds coming to the seed feeder. The male Baltimore orioles are showing up more frequently, and a female oriole had a great time in the bird bath a day or so ago.

Tonight we’re trying something new for dinner, red rice. The Better Half used the recipe from the Gullah Geechee Home Cooking book. I know some folks don’t see it this way, but I believe we’d be a better, stronger, more fun country if we would learn to enjoy our differences instead of allowing others to turn our country into a boring, monotonous, unresilient, theocracy.

One of the psychologists I read when I was in college was Fritz Perls. I think I found him, and humanistic psychology, through Paul [and Percival] Goodman’s writings. The state of the world these days seems to me to beg for broader application of the thinking and praxis of those kinds of folks. One particularly inspirational quote of Perls suggests how we could be better served than we are by our current politicians and two-party system:

“I do my thing and you do your thing.
I am not in this world to live up to your expectations,
And you are not in this world to live up to mine.
You are you, and I am I, and if by chance we find each other, it’s beautiful.
If not, it can’t be helped.“

-Fritz Perls-

I've not previously thought about it this way, but isn’t that the way much of the universe works, especially the natural world of which we are a part and have become too much apart.

I’ve no idea if a kid named Zimmerman from Hibbing Minnesota ever read the Goodman’s or Perls or those who thought like them, but several of his songs resonate with the repeated absurdity of American life. Check especially the last stanza.

Maggie’s Farm

Written by: Bob Dylan 

I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more
No, I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more
Well, I wake in the morning
Fold my hands and pray for rain
I got a head full of ideas
That are drivin’ me insane
It’s a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor
I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more

I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s brother no more
No, I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s brother no more
Well, he hands you a nickel
He hands you a dime
He asks you with a grin
If you’re havin’ a good time
Then he fines you every time you slam the door
I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s brother no more

I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s pa no more
No, I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s pa no more
Well, he puts his cigar
Out in your face just for kicks
His bedroom window
It is made out of bricks
The National Guard stands around his door
Ah, I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s pa no more

I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s ma no more
No, I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s ma no more
Well, she talks to all the servants
About man and God and law
Everybody says
She’s the brains behind pa
She’s sixty-eight, but she says she’s twenty-four
I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s ma no more

I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more
No, I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more
Well, I try my best
To be just like I am
But everybody wants you
To be just like them
They sing while you slave and I just get bored
I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more

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Time to end our domestic wars

According to today's edition of The Writer's Almanac:

It was on this day in 1865 that the Civil War came to a formal end. Confederate General Edmund Kirby Smith, commander of Confederate forces west of the Mississippi, surrendered, and the last Confederate army ceased to exist. The war that cost 620,000 American lives was over.

How appropriate would it be if, on this anniversary, we brought to an end our own current civil war, before it gets worse? Watching riot-equipped (how apt) militarized police, joined by national guard troops, with the recent threat from The Dark Side in the White House to use US military against US civilians, brings us frighteningly close to a rekindling of hostilities that were declared ended more than 150 years ago. We know the embers of that conflict have smoldered and occasionally been fanned back into flames from time to time but we hope this will not become one of those times. Remember, as William Stafford tells us "Every war has two losers." In that volume he also asks:

“Those who champion democracy, but make a fetish of never accepting anything they don't agree with -- what advantage do they see in democracy?”

do we need more veterans of our domestic wars?

Photo by J. Harrington

It was 50 years ago this year that national guard troops shot and killed four unarmed students at Kent State and wounded nine others. Charges against the 8 guardsmen were eventually dismissed. Even had justice been served, lives lost could not be restored nor wounds inflicted healed without scars. Is that really what we as a society seek? Do we insist that our version of "democracy" be enforced by military action? Doesn't that turn democracy into a charade? Isn't gerrymandering another form of corrupting democracy? Our current deep and dramatic fall from world leadership seems warranted if a nominal "leader of the free world(?)" maintains authority over us at the point gun barrels held by our fellow citizens. Vlad must be absolutely gleeful at the way we're attacking each other, instead of repairing the climate we've broken. Soon there will be so little of real value left that there will be nothing left worth protecting. Our sense of priorities is short-sighted and counter-productive.

No, I do not believe either arsonists nor those who, in the name of "restoring peace," perpetrate excessive and unwarranted force against civilians should be allowed to "get away with it." I was born and raised in Boston, within sight of the harbor where the tea was thrown at the one and only legitimate Tea Party. I have, many times, walked the Freedom Trail. I once was proud to call myself an American. Not so much these days. We have had many opportunities to create a more just and equitable society during my lifetime. Our efforts have been insufficient and have failed. It is past time to restructure the systems on which we depend for "law and order" and for governance. Rebuilding what we have had won't lessen the frictions that keep the embers of our civil conflicts smoldering.

I will again make obvious my advancing age and liberal leanings by recommending that many of those who think they are winning, or will win, the current conflicts spend time listening, on a repeating loop, to this Stones classic from their album "Let It Bleed." Then, perhaps, we can all visit and celebrate

At the Un-National Monument along the Canadian Border

By William E. Stafford

This is the field where the battle did not happen,

where the unknown soldier did not die.

This is the field where grass joined hands,

where no monument stands,

and the only heroic thing is the sky.

Birds fly here without any sound,

unfolding their wings across the open.

No people killed—or were killed—on this ground

hallowed by neglect and an air so tame

that people celebrate it by forgetting its name.

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#PollinatorWeek is This Week!

According to the Pollinator Partnership web site,

Birds, bats, bees, butterflies, beetles, and other small mammals that pollinate plants are responsible for bringing us one out of every three bites of food. They also sustain our ecosystems and produce our natural resources by helping plants reproduce.

monarch butterflies on Northern Plains  Blazing-star

Photo by J. Harrington

We've a number of wild flowers (and some tame ones) on our property. We sometimes see a butterfly or a bee, but not very often. Years ago we hung a bat house, and when that finally came down in a storm, we relplaced it in a different location. Bats used the first house, but, as far as we can tell, none have moved into the second house during the past several years. We've not had any better luck with the "solitary bee house" we built from a kit a couple of years ago. No one moved in the first year and so we moved it to where it gets better morning sunlight. Still, it appears that we have no takers.

Our Better Half recently gave us a handful of New England aster seeds as a gift. The instructions call for planting the seeds in "well-drained moist soil." It is no doubt due to our lack of soils education, but we're having problems wrapping our head around "well-drained moist." Those seem to us to be mutually exclusive adjectives that we will need to reconcile to enjoy germination success and please ourselves by providing late Summer sustenance to migrating butterflies.

bee hives behind electric fence

Photo by J. Harrington

One of the continuing challenges we face in making our property more pollinator friendly is that many of the flowers we plant to attract pollinators are also considered tasty by the local whitetails. We think that's where our annual plantings of this perennial disappear to. On the other hand, we've avoided the potentially escalating issues of having a few bee hives, which would then need to be protected from the local bear(s) by installing electric fencing, such as the arrangement we saw several years ago near the Audubon Society's North Woods Center near Sandstone.

Butterflies

By Samuel Green

Some days her main job seems to be

to welcome back the Red Admiral

as it lights on a leaf of the yellow

forsythia. It is her duty to stop & lean

over to take in how it folds & opens

its wings. Then, too, there is the common

Tiger Swallowtail, which seems to her

entirely uncommon in how it moves

about the boundaries of this clearing

we made so many years ago. If she leaves

the compost bucket unwashed to rescue

a single tattered wing from under the winter

jasmine or the blue flowers of the periwinkle

& then spends a whole afternoon at our round

oak table surrounded by field guides

& tea until she is sure—yes—that it belongs to

a Lorquin's Admiral, or that singular

mark is one of the great cat's eyes

of a Milbert's Tortoiseshell, then she is

simply practicing her true vocation

learning the story behind the blue beads

of the Mourning Cloak, the silver commas

of the Satyr Anglewing, the complex shades

of the Spring Azure, moving through this life

letting her sweet, light attention land

on one luminous thing after another.

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Why artisan bread is best

We spent the morning with the Daughter Person at a Marine Mills Folk School class on sourdough baking. The fact that we are in the midst of a period of "April (rain) showers" meant we weren't torn between the class and being outside enjoying a rare burst of pleasant weather. We learned a few things but mostly got an opportunity to practice working with a slightly different kind of dough and finally see someone actually use the dough-shaping techniques we've only seen thus far in still pictures.

how can we tell if this loaf of artisan bread is better
than the other one on this page?

Photo by J. Harrington

The loaves of bread we baked this morning have different flavors than the ones we've been creating over the past few years. Not necessarily better, but different. That's often a difficult concept for us to wrap our head around. Different can be different without being better or worse. That can be a slippery slope. The next thing you know, we may be discovering that, just because something isn't to our taste, doesn't make it bad or worthless or useless. Have you noticed that, as we've become less civil to each other we've become less tolerant of each other? Or, is it the other way around?

This Spring is different than any other Spring that's ever been. We've never been this age. The weather has never been exactly as it is now. Buds have burst earlier or later. Flowers have bloomed sooner or later. Migrations have occurred earlier or later. It is only we humans that seem determined to do something like celebrate the Fourth of July every July fourth or every Christmas every December 25. But, other humans in other countries celebrate independence on dates other than July fourth and Christmas hasn't always been celebrated on December 25. Does that make those variations better, or worse, or wrong? We think not.

how can we tell if this loaf of artisan bread is better
than the other one on this page?

Photo by J. Harrington

So, do we need to figure out how to bring back tolerance to increase civility, bring back civility to increase tolerance, or does it have to be concurrent for both?

The preceding has been brought to you by our continuing efforts to live in a "Yes, and" or "Both, and" mode instead of the binary mode of simple right and wrong we've been indoctrinated into for most of our lives. If you have trouble understanding and agreeing with us about this, it may be because you truly believe that either vanilla or chocolate ice cream is right, while the other is wrong. Really?

from The People, Yes

By Carl Sandburg

Lincoln? 

He was a mystery in smoke and flags 

Saying yes to the smoke, yes to the flags, 

Yes to the paradoxes of democracy, 

Yes to the hopes of government 

Of the people by the people for the people, 

No to debauchery of the public mind, 

No to personal malice nursed and fed, 

Yes to the Constitution when a help, 

No to the Constitution when a hindrance 

Yes to man as a struggler amid illusions, 

Each man fated to answer for himself: 

Which of the faiths and illusions of mankind 

Must I choose for my own sustaining light 

To bring me beyond the present wilderness? 

       Lincoln? Was he a poet? 

       And did he write verses? 

“I have not willingly planted a thorn 

       in any man’s bosom.” 

I shall do nothing through malice: what 

       I deal with is too vast for malice.” 

Death was in the air. 

So was birth.

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Celebrating release by Our Native Daughters

We have been a fan of Rhiannon Giddens for quite some time now and were mightily impressed when we saw her in person at the O'Shaughnessy a year and a half ago. Now she's recorded a new album with a different group, Our Native Daughters, which also features Amythyst Kiah, Allison Russell and Leyla McCalla. We suspect that it's not a coincidence that the album is scheduled for release in about a week, on February 22, near the midst of Black History Month. But, perhaps that's just a coincidence, if you believe in coincidence. [The first link in this paragraph will take you to npr's write up on the album, including the ability to listen to the full album or any of the individual tracks. We're listening as we write this.]

the calm before the concert

Photo by J. Harrington

There's been a growing number of folks trying to make the case that "we're better than this" as more and more xenophobic, racist, hateful crap pours out of the White House these days. All we can say to that is those folks need to go back and do a better job studying American History 101. The "we" some of us claim we're better than are also citizens and/or residents of a country founded by adventuring religious dissidents who built a nation on the backs of those suffering from land appropriation, slavery and/or genocide, at a minimum. It looks unfortunately clear to us that the struggle for civil rights and equality is far from over. In fact, we behave like we're presently backsliding from the values and principles hashed out in many of our country's founding documents. [No, we're not including the 3/5 of a person provision. Maybe, though, we should apply that concept to corporate persons.]

Please don't misinterpret what we're claiming here. We CAN BE BETTER than the way too many of us are behaving these days but, to accomplish that, we have to change our ways and work at being better. It don't just come naturally. We've developed excessive hubris and and an overweening sense of entitlement. There is insufficient truth to the claim that "It can't happen here." Read about the Trail of Tears. Study the Dred Scott decision. Think about Citizens United and how we've fared since that SCOTUS decision. We continue to wonder why, if corporations really are to be considered "persons," they aren't subject to any form of the death penalty.

We could go on, and undoubtedly will some day soon. For today, we're gleeful that we live in a society that has a culture varied enough to include Our Native Daughters, Buffy Sainte-Marie, Robert Zimmerman, and Richie Valens. Perhaps we can be better than we've been if we let our native music's charms help soothe our savage breast, soften our hardened hearts, and bend our notted minds. Those who study them note that "Ecosystems with a lot of biodiversity are generally stronger and more resistant to disaster than those with fewer species." To that we would add that they're also more fun.

I, Too

By Langston Hughes

I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.

They send me to eat in the kitchen

When company comes,

But I laugh,

And eat well,

And grow strong.

Tomorrow,

I’ll be at the table

When company comes.

Nobody’ll dare

Say to me,

“Eat in the kitchen,”

Then.

Besides,

They’ll see how beautiful I am

And be ashamed—

I, too, am America.

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Rising to an occasion

February is Black History Month. If, like me, you wonder how February was selected for this honor, you can check Wikipedia and learn that only the US and Canada honor the African diaspora in February. The UK, Netherlands, and the Republic of Ireland celebrate it in October.

still a February moon rises

Photo by J. Harrington

Today, the day on which a SOTUS will be delivered by a POTUS many consider to be a racist, seems a particularly appropriate time to remind ourselves that slavery has been an ignominious part of America's history; that not all immigrants have come here voluntarily; and that racism must be extinguished. Humans are all the same species. MPR News this "month is featuring black Minnesotans who are making history right now across the state."

still a February sun rises

Photo by J. Harrington

The current occupant of the West Wing of the White House may, in tonight's speech, continue to bemoan his perceived need for an expensive and stupid wall across the border our country shares with Mexico. Those of us with any humanity and common sense realize that what this country needs to see rise more than a wall are thousands, no, millions of Americans like Maya Angelou. People like her will always make us much safer than those who would build walls instead of longer tables.

Still I Rise

Maya Angelou, 1928- 2014

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

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#OneMinnesota, One Earth, One Human Race

Today is the day we celebrate the birthday of Martin Luther King, Jr. His actual birthday is on January 15th. Since we celebrate that, and his accomplishments, today, it seems like an opportune time to explore and learn about the Walz-Flanagan administration's One Minnesota theme.

OneMinnesota needs dairy farms and wind farms

Photo by J. Harrington

According to the Star Tribune newspaper, at his inauguration, Governor Walz noted

“We find ourselves at a time when economic, social, racial, and geographic division feels rampant. I will not normalize behavior that seeks to deepen or exploit these divides,” said Walz, a Democrat from Mankato. “I will not normalize policies that are not normal — ones that undermine our decency and respect. If Washington won’t lead, Minnesota will.”

As we picked our way through the dust bins of the internet, looking for more insights into what Walz and Flanagan have in mind, we made an interesting discovery. Apparently, for some years now, there's been an organization named OneMN.org. Until today, we don't believe we've encountered OneMN.org, despite our having worked for the City of Minneapolis and in the affordable housing/green building sector. We would have expected to have at least heard about this organization:

Over the years this multi ethnic coalition has created a space within Minnesota for a nonpartisan engagement around policy issues. This space has been effectively utilized to achieve significant benefits to Minnesota, as can be seen below, both to aggregate ALANA communities’ voices over issues that impact one or more communities (example, Hmong hunters, racial profiling or undocumented workers) as well as collective issues such as business contracts. It also provided a nonpartisan space for policy dialogue and engagement with different political institutions in Minnesota.  OneMN.org has evolved over the years to its present identity.

As it stands today, OneMn.org is slated to sunset on December 31, 2022. We think it would be unfortunate for Minnesota if the sunset provision occurs without a capable successor to pick up and carry the torch. Perhaps the Governor and Lieutenant Governor can work on the merger of their particular theme with the work accomplished by OneMn.org (perhaps they already have and we're just coming late to this party).

"green" affordable housing on Minnesota's Iron Range

Photo by J. Harrington

We believe, as much as we believe anything, that a sustainable future for humans must be based on reduced inequalities as well as better care for our natural environment. We think that Doctor King would agree. We look forward to seeing how Minnesota will lead over the next year and posting a report of exemplary progress on MLK Day next year.

Let America Be America Again

By Langston Hughes

Let America be America again.

Let it be the dream it used to be.

Let it be the pioneer on the plain

Seeking a home where he himself is free.

(America never was America to me.)

Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed—

Let it be that great strong land of love

Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme

That any man be crushed by one above.

(It never was America to me.)

O, let my land be a land where Liberty

Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,

But opportunity is real, and life is free,

Equality is in the air we breathe.

(There's never been equality for me,

Nor freedom in this "homeland of the free.")

Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?

And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?

I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,

I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars.

I am the red man driven from the land,

I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek—

And finding only the same old stupid plan

Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

I am the young man, full of strength and hope,

Tangled in that ancient endless chain

Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!

Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!

Of work the men! Of take the pay!

Of owning everything for one's own greed!

I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.

I am the worker sold to the machine.

I am the Negro, servant to you all.

I am the people, humble, hungry, mean—

Hungry yet today despite the dream.

Beaten yet today—O, Pioneers!

I am the man who never got ahead,

The poorest worker bartered through the years.

Yet I'm the one who dreamt our basic dream

In the Old World while still a serf of kings,

Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,

That even yet its mighty daring sings

In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned

That's made America the land it has become.

O, I'm the man who sailed those early seas

In search of what I meant to be my home—

For I'm the one who left dark Ireland's shore,

And Poland's plain, and England's grassy lea,

And torn from Black Africa's strand I came

To build a "homeland of the free."

The free?

Who said the free?  Not me?

Surely not me?  The millions on relief today?

The millions shot down when we strike?

The millions who have nothing for our pay?

For all the dreams we've dreamed

And all the songs we've sung

And all the hopes we've held

And all the flags we've hung,

The millions who have nothing for our pay—

Except the dream that's almost dead today.

O, let America be America again—

The land that never has been yet—

And yet must be—the land where everyman is free.

The land that's mine—the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME—

Who made America,

Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,

Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,

Must bring back our mighty dream again.

Sure, call me any ugly name you choose—

The steel of freedom does not stain.

From those who live like leeches on the people's lives,

We must take back our land again,

America!

O, yes,

I say it plain,

America never was America to me,

And yet I swear this oath—

America will be!

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,

The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,

We, the people, must redeem

The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.

The mountains and the endless plain—

All, all the stretch of these great green states—

And make America again!

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Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.

A festival of lights

First, to those who celebrate Hanukkah, may you be blessed with gifts of love, peace, and happiness this Hanukkah.

At the risk of jinxing ourselves, we got just slightly more than a dusting of snow last night, maybe half an inch or so? It's made the Christmas lights outside the front door look especially seasonal.

festive, seasonal lights

Photo by J. Harrington

The picture below shows the "nesting" material some critter, we suspect red squirrel, has been stuffing into the space under the South edge of the deck joist. This is the second time this Autumn we've pulled a nest out of that location. We're probably not acting very much like the spirit of Christmas, but we don't remember any mention of squirrels in the stable.

squirrel nest in the joist?

Photo by J. Harrington

In a bit we're off to the airport to pick up the Better Half on her return from Paris. Yes, Paris, France. She assures us she stayed out of the riots and had lots of fun and good food. We do remember from the Viet Nam war protest days that at least some urban riots (Cambridge, MA) tended to stay localized. It is worrisome, though.

Unrelated to any of the above, but another chapter in our continuing battle with crappy technology and corporations, the Weather Underground app on our iPhone seems to have gone defunct. We found reports of others having this problem ever since IBM bought the "Weather Underground" company. Meanwhile, we've downloaded LibreOffice and will soon be installing it and learning how to use it since we're tired of Microsoft informing us that our version of MS Office for OS X is no long supported and may cease to function soon. Repeat after us: Too big to fail is too big. Neoliberal capitalist globalism (global capitalism?) sucks. Is it time to bring back "Power to the People?"

Light the Festive Candles

By Aileen Lucia Fisher(FOR HANUKKAH)

Light the first of eight tonight—

the farthest candle to the right.

Light the first and second, too,

when tomorrow's day is through.

Then light three, and then light four—

every dusk one candle more

Till all eight burn bright and high,

honoring a day gone by

When the Temple was restored,

rescued from the Syrian lord,

And an eight-day feast proclaimed—

The Festival of Lights—well named

To celebrate the joyous day

when we regained the right to pray

to our one God in our own way.

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Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.

Too perfect?

A few evenings ago a pair of whitetail does were feeding under the pear tree. A day or two before that, there were four of them. A couple of times in between, we've seen one or three wandering through the field behind the house. They don't arrive consistently enough so that we can count on seeing them, but neither are sightings so infrequent that we never bother too look.

whitetail does under the pear tree

Photo by J. Harrington

We seem to recall, vaguely, that this inconsistent pattern was promoted by B.F. Skinner under the heading of "operant conditioning using intermittent variable rewards." Thinking about Mother Nature and her patterns, and our ability to observe them, she must be the mistress of operant conditioning. We remember when we were trap or skeet shooting, a not totally unrealistic goal was to break 25 straight clay targets. Mostly we shot in the high teens or low twenties, but the possibility of a perfect round was usually there, until the first miss. Hunting grouse or ducks, the idea of hitting two or three in a row never occurred to us, perfectionists though we are. In fact, we still remember going through several boxes of shells (50+) to bring home a couple of teal. At no point did we consider giving up hunting due to poor shooting.

ducks in flight

Photo by J. Harrington

We think, based on the preceding, that the intermittent rewards of hunting and fishing derive from the opportunities earned or presented, more than from the fish and game "reduced to possession." If a loaf of bread turned out to be edible as infrequently as we catch fish these days, we'd probably give up baking. It's not entirely clear to us what creates these distinctions. On the other hand, we are beginning to suspect that exhibiting perfectionistic tendencies might well be counterproductive to living a rewarding life.

As we look at the leaves out our window, there is a large amount of monotonous green that was a delight to see last Spring. Now, however, it's the patches of russet and scarlet and lemon and gold that bring pleasure, even though they foretell the approach of Winter, a season we consider to be significantly less than perfect, but with its own rewards that appear occasionally. We're not sure, but we think we're in the process of circling around to a wonderful lyric by Joni Mitchell, from her song "Big Yellow Taxi." Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got, 'til it's gone? Enjoy the moment and what you have. It'll change soon enough.

How to Be Perfect

By Ron Padgett

                                                  Everything is perfect, dear friend.
                                                  —KEROUAC

Get some sleep.

Don't give advice.

Take care of your teeth and gums.

Don't be afraid of anything beyond your control. Don't be afraid, for

instance, that the building will collapse as you sleep, or that someone

you love will suddenly drop dead.

Eat an orange every morning.

Be friendly. It will help make you happy.

Raise your pulse rate to 120 beats per minute for 20 straight minutes

four or five times a week doing anything you enjoy.

Hope for everything. Expect nothing.

Take care of things close to home first. Straighten up your room

before you save the world. Then save the world.

Know that the desire to be perfect is probably the veiled expression

of another desire—to be loved, perhaps, or not to die.

Make eye contact with a tree.

Be skeptical about all opinions, but try to see some value in each of

them.

Dress in a way that pleases both you and those around you.

Do not speak quickly.

Learn something every day. (Dzien dobre!)

Be nice to people before they have a chance to behave badly.

Don't stay angry about anything for more than a week, but don't

forget what made you angry. Hold your anger out at arm's length

and look at it, as if it were a glass ball. Then add it to your glass ball

collection.

Be loyal.

Wear comfortable shoes.

Design your activities so that they show a pleasing balance

and variety.

Be kind to old people, even when they are obnoxious. When you

become old, be kind to young people. Do not throw your cane at

them when they call you Grandpa. They are your grandchildren!

Live with an animal.

Do not spend too much time with large groups of people.

If you need help, ask for it.

Cultivate good posture until it becomes natural.

If someone murders your child, get a shotgun and blow his head off.

Plan your day so you never have to rush.

Show your appreciation to people who do things for you, even if you

have paid them, even if they do favors you don't want.

Do not waste money you could be giving to those who need it.

Expect society to be defective. Then weep when you find that it is far

more defective than you imagined.

When you borrow something, return it in an even better condition.

As much as possible, use wooden objects instead of plastic or metal

ones.

Look at that bird over there.

After dinner, wash the dishes.

Calm down.

Visit foreign countries, except those whose inhabitants have

expressed a desire to kill you.

Don't expect your children to love you, so they can, if they want to.

Meditate on the spiritual. Then go a little further, if you feel like it.

What is out (in) there?

Sing, every once in a while.

Be on time, but if you are late do not give a detailed and lengthy

excuse.

Don't be too self-critical or too self-congratulatory.

Don't think that progress exists. It doesn't.

Walk upstairs.

Do not practice cannibalism.

Imagine what you would like to see happen, and then don't do

anything to make it impossible.

Take your phone off the hook at least twice a week.

Keep your windows clean.

Extirpate all traces of personal ambitiousness.

Don't use the word extirpatetoo often.

Forgive your country every once in a while. If that is not possible, go

to another one.

If you feel tired, rest.

Grow something.

Do not wander through train stations muttering, "We're all going to

die!"

Count among your true friends people of various stations of life.

Appreciate simple pleasures, such as the pleasure of chewing, the

pleasure of warm water running down your back, the pleasure of a

cool breeze, the pleasure of falling asleep.

Do not exclaim, "Isn't technology wonderful!"

Learn how to stretch your muscles. Stretch them every day.

Don't be depressed about growing older. It will make you feel even

older. Which is depressing.

Do one thing at a time.

If you burn your finger, put it in cold water immediately. If you bang

your finger with a hammer, hold your hand in the air for twenty

minutes. You will be surprised by the curative powers of coldness and

gravity.

Learn how to whistle at earsplitting volume.

Be calm in a crisis. The more critical the situation, the calmer you

should be.

Enjoy sex, but don't become obsessed with it. Except for brief periods

in your adolescence, youth, middle age, and old age.

Contemplate everything's opposite.

If you're struck with the fear that you've swum out too far in the

ocean, turn around and go back to the lifeboat.

Keep your childish self alive.

Answer letters promptly. Use attractive stamps, like the one with a

tornado on it.

Cry every once in a while, but only when alone. Then appreciate

how much better you feel. Don't be embarrassed about feeling better.

Do not inhale smoke.

Take a deep breath.

Do not smart off to a policeman.

Do not step off the curb until you can walk all the way across the

street. From the curb you can study the pedestrians who are trapped

in the middle of the crazed and roaring traffic.

Be good.

Walk down different streets.

Backwards.

Remember beauty, which exists, and truth, which does not. Notice

that the idea of truth is just as powerful as the idea of beauty.

Stay out of jail.

In later life, become a mystic.

Use Colgate toothpaste in the new Tartar Control formula.

Visit friends and acquaintances in the hospital. When you feel it is

time to leave, do so.

Be honest with yourself, diplomatic with others.

Do not go crazy a lot. It's a waste of time.

Read and reread great books.

Dig a hole with a shovel.

In winter, before you go to bed, humidify your bedroom.

Know that the only perfect things are a 300 game in bowling and a

27-batter, 27-out game in baseball.

Drink plenty of water. When asked what you would like to drink,

say, "Water, please."

Ask "Where is the loo?" but not "Where can I urinate?"

Be kind to physical objects.

Beginning at age forty, get a complete "physical" every few years

from a doctor you trust and feel comfortable with.

Don't read the newspaper more than once a year.

Learn how to say "hello," "thank you," and "chopsticks"

in Mandarin.

Belch and fart, but quietly.

Be especially cordial to foreigners.

See shadow puppet plays and imagine that you are one of the

characters. Or all of them.

Take out the trash.

Love life.

Use exact change.

When there's shooting in the street, don't go near the window.

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Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.